#i'm going to the archives tomorrow and the day after also

[aq2003]

Are you living it up in the Stratford archives rn?

YESSIR on top of watching a couple archive recordings i got to look at a prompt book (which is the script + a bunch of stage directions) which was really cool

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

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-> Lee Know's <-

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I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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[gemini-atz]

Seonghwa as your Boyfriend₊˚⊹♡

('Realistic Imagines' + Astrology Based)

Background/Disclaimer: !!This is all my own interpretation based on my personal astrology knowledge and research. I consider myself an amateur!!

✩Gemini Notes✩ IDK what happened but I ended up getting really into writing the NSFW part of this and it got long so I'm making a part 2 for it which I'll post tomorrow night! I'll create a link at the end of this post and in my Astrology Series Pinned post. If you'd like a tag please comment!

SEONGHWA SUN Aries MOON Cancer MERCURY Aries VENUS Aquarius MARS Aries

Dating Seonghwa is pretty much like being with your best friend. He's such a caretaker and protector in your life almost from the moment he enters it. You guys probably had a base of friendship for a bit before you started dating, and it would have probably (definitely) been you crushing on Seonghwa hard first before he even notices his own feelings for you.

Aquarius Venus and really anyone with their Venus in an Air sign tend to seek intellectual or stimulating connections with people before falling romantically. For Seonghwa his partner should be someone he also considers a close friend. He'd be like the guy you'd meet in your second year of college in class because you were put in a group for an assignment and of COURSE you two turned out to be the only two that even gave a shit and tried. Showing a sincere interest in his hobbies or likes would really endear him to you, and he would try to return the favor by getting into yours. For Seonghwa, a comfortable kind of friends to lovers thing is ideal. He loves spending quality time with you but his idea of quality time is very much giving parallel play, where you both do your own thing in the same room, maybe listening to a playlist you made together. With his three Aries placements, he has the potential to have a really explosive temper. It's a little diminished by his Moon in Cancer but he's probably the type of guy who holds in all his annoyances until he can just get them out at the end of the day either through his hobbies or physical activity. Basically, he likes to keep his mind focused and his hands busy. Air Venus signs can come off as aloof occasionally to other passionate signs who literally want to be with you all the time. He's the kind of boyfriend that will give you some space if you need it, because he'll need it too. You'll be soooo tempted to go an interrupt him when he's focused on his Legos because he's just so beautiful and cute when he's focusing but the thing he loves about you is how much understanding you always give him; its all you can do to just kiss his forehead and go to read a book while laying on the couch. Eventually he'd come over to you, bouncy and energized and flop onto the couch, wiggling up to rest his face into your chest and wrapping warm, solid arms around you. "Can I show you the set I just built?" He'd ask, and of course you say yes! His eyes get so sparkly while he shows it off to you, smiling so proudly at your reactions. If you're a person who loves being spontaneous or adventurous with your plans, having Seonghwa as your boyfriend means you two will genuinely have a lot of fun together. He's the boyfriend that wants genuinely does want to go to art museums and fashion archive exhibits with you, and you guys can chat excitably about your opinions of different works, be it games, anime, fashion or music. As a couple, you are always ready to try something new and probably always have weekend plans.

As a Cancer Moon Seonghwa might gravitate toward the caretaker role in your relationship and tends to anticipate your own needs before you do, just doing little actions to look after you, like preparing your coffee or tea in the morning while you rush around getting ready for work. He isn't super big on PDA, maybe holding hands in public is as much as he's comfortable with but once you're alone....he's your personal giant teddy bear. So many hugs, so many cuddle sessions where you both play on your Switches and pause occasionally to show each other something cool or cute in your game.

You'll end up thinking its funny that some people have the impression your boyfriend is quiet or shy; If he's not saying anything, he just might not be interested in the conversation. Once you get him talking about his interests he's a certified YAPPER. And, surprisingly one of the most stubborn people you have ever met. Like, good luck feeling like you can ever "win" an argument. With both a Sun and Mars in Aries, Seonghwa feels like he can give you energy just from being near him. Aries men tend to have a lot of physical stamina and can push themselves pretty far in that aspect.

Which brings me to my next point......

NSFW

I see Seonghwa as someone who eventually gets into orgasm denial on his partner because of just how long he can go for. That Aries stamina feels like he's the type who can cum and be ready to go again faster than you were expecting.

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[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

[salamander-spark]

My first fanfic! I'm proud of it even if it's a little rushed. I barely managed to get it out within the day. Tomorrow's prompt might just be a drawing.

Day 1:

Hug/Cabin 7/Shapeshifter

Fic below:

TW: very brief depiction of a panic attack, description of nightmare.

It had been a month since Vee's mom and sister came back from the boiling isles.

The stress Vee felt the few days it took for the return was immeasurable. A worry for her family took root in the back of her mind, it made sleep nearly impossible, and gave her nightmares.

Waiting for months, no contact, no words, no way of knowing if they are alive. No magic. She'd be found out, spreding herself too thin with Camila and Luz's responsibilities, inevitably slipping up. People from the town gazing upon her demonic form. The eyes of Belos's monsterous form looming behind everyone. her family, Luz's friends all dead they couldn't stop him THEY COULDN'T COME HOME THEY WERE DEAD HE KILLED THE —

In the present, Vee shook her head to dispel the images her imagination made. She remembers the dreams vividly, still occasionally seeing them in her sleep.

The week following their return, she found the pamphet Masha handed her. Blushing (But NOT because she remembers making a fool of herself in front of them), she decided it was time to take up their offer. 

And it turned out AMAZING, Masha's gradoise flair really fitting the tour guide gig. It was just like back at Cabin seven when They waxed poeticly about the many pagen dieties and what they did. 

Vee kept up with Masha's narration, interjecting questions when she thought of them, keeping the conversation flowing. Vee told Masha about herself, and Masha shared stories about their friends. An aching Vee didn’t realize she had in her heart began to fade talking to her friend after so long, but only slightly.

Masha didn't know that she knew them. For all they knew, they were talking to a complete stranger. The person they talked to couldn't possibly be the shy, anxious girl they shared a cabin with. She couldn't be the friend they helped bring out of her shell, who looked at all things mundane with innocent wonder. She wasn't Luz Noceda.

The insecurity persisted, became even bigger after Masha invited Vee to hang out with their friends. Diego, the tall, relaxed boy who let his hair fall onto his face and probably had a million zits on his forhead. Samantha; or rather Sam, who had a love for video games and anime, and rambled about them to the captivated audience of her friends. 

Neither of them knew her as Vee either. It was awkward, but managable, getting to know them a second time. She noticed that they were each more comfortable in conversation than when they were back at camp. They were all less reluctant to share the information about themselves that took them weeks to share at camp. Vee supposed she was also more confident, staying in a cabin with each other must have been to thank for that.

She didn't know how long she could keep lying to them, for her own sanity.

"Say," Masha began, "What about those kids you were hanging out with? They're your other friends, right?" 

Vee, lying belly down looked up from the Cosmic frontier book she was reading. "Huh? She got so invested in the plot it took her brain a while to process Masha's question. 

"Y'know, at the historical society, right before Halloween," Masha clarified. "You guys asked me about that rebus remember? That one kid was going on like, 'Grahh chop off my ear' or something," Masha giggled. 

Oh. Luz's friends. Vee knew the witches also considered her part of the group, but it was easier thinking of them as her sister's friend group.

Wait... They didn't have a proper cover story! Vee was terrible at lying on the fly, but she needed to start talking now!

"O- OH YEAH, that was Gus. H-hes pretty fun. Then theres uhhh, Amity with the pink hair, Willow had glasses, and... oh yeah Hunter too but he was at our home that day." Vee needed to stall so she could come up with something.

"Is he The Blond cosmic frontier fan?" Masha asked, which confused Vee.

"When did you see him? I don't remember him going to your job after we left."

"No, I actually saw them at the haunted hayride! oh, I guess I only told you two-" Masha points two fingers at Sam and Diego respectively "-about that since you weren't hanging out with us back then. Whoops~"

Suddenly, Diego piped up. "Wait, you said 'Our' Home. So they like, live at your place or something"  

CRAP!

"Uhhhh well... you see." Think of something Vee, just spit it out. "Foreign excange students?" she thought out loud. "-From out of state not another country!" she amended in a panic.

"O–kay?" Sam raised her eyebrow "I've never seen them at school before, and you know I watch people like a hawk." It was true, back at camp, Sam compiled a list of the campers from other cabins activities in order to know who to watch out for. 

It wasn't a skill she thought would be used agsinst her.

"Well, There are other schools in the area you know? I think they went to, yknow..." She didn't know the names of any other high schools. "...Not Gravesfield high?" She finished with a shrug. And also, they went back to their own rea-" DONT SAY REALM "TOWN like, right after Halloween, so yeah, that's why you've never seen 'em" She finished with a shrug and a manic chuckle.

How did she keep this up for thee months straight? She must've lost her touch. Then again, she considered not having to lie as a good thing.

"Sure, I'll accept that." Sam relented.

"Hold up, am I missing something, or does that like. Not make sense." Diego once again came in with his terribly timed questions. "Cause like, you said they lived in your house, why wouldn't they go to the same school?" How is he so perceptive!? It must be because he doesn't devote much energy into responding so he can listen better.

Masha put a hand on her shoulder "Hey, sorry about him Vee, if theres something you don't want to tell us, you don't have to." assured Masha. "We didn't mean to push so far." Masha turns toward the offender, "Diego." They enunciate.

Vee didn't her most of what Masha said. Where Masha tried to reassure her, Vee only heard an accusation. 'something you don't want to tell us' sounded more like 'You're hiding something, aren't you Vee.' And what did that last part mean? Could they tell she was panicking? WHY DID THEY SOUND ANGRY?

They'reGoingToForce AnswersOutOfmeNobodyTrustsMe-

Everything turned blurry, she was hyper aware of all the sounds of the room closing in on her. Her heartbeat was in her ears, everyones voices blended into a cocophony She needed to get away She's clammy and very sweaty-

It's queit, what changed, is there still danger?

She heard breathing, not her own, someone elses, not her own, and it makes her realize how quick she's breathing. She tries to slow down, matching the pace of the other person. 

When she finally steadied herself (it felt like several minutes but also less than one) She opened her eyes (They were closed?) and sees Masha sitting on her knees on the bed in front of her (She doesn't remember getting into this corner). They continued to demonstrate the breathing exercise, which they also did with their hands.

Vee thinks she remembers something like this happening at camp, but isn't sure right now. Masha gestured their hands out wide, clearly asking if it was okay if they could give a hug. 

You don't deserve one, her brain tells her. No, she shakes her hehead.

Masha sits with her, and they both breath. Such a simple act, filled with so much understanding. You doesn't deserve Masha. 

She's now aware enough to know how mean she's being to herself. She spots her other friends sitting in the middle of the room, Dego on the floor while Samantha sits in the desk chair. She gives a meek wave and they wave back without keeping eye contact. They look ashamed, Masha must've given them a talking to.

"Hi guys, sorry you had to see that," she knew she shouldn't be apologizing, but this whole situation never would've happened if she was truthful from the beginning. 

"No Vee, this wasn't your fault." Says Masha

Sam adds in "We're sorry. Diego said he should've realised before he asked that. And I'm sorry for getting so uptight about answers." Sam makes eye contact at the end, though it almost looks like she's scrutinizing Vee's face-

-She spins to look at the mirror and sees a splotchy mess of skin on her face. One could confuse it for vitiligo -a skin condition she learned some humans have- if not for the fact her face was previously a single solid shade of brown. 

Her hair is now completely blue, and a bit shorter, exposing her ears in their full glory. They must've been flapping like crazy during her panic attack.

Her sclera was blue, and took on the glossy sheen of an amphibious creature. 

None of those are human traits.

Her head snaps back towards Masha, cringing while waiting for a reaction.

"So..." They began. "I um. I like your ears?" They clerly want to say more, but refrains to be polite. "Once again, I don't wanna force you to answer. I've just got a lotta theories in my noggin right now and I would like to know the truth. But again, no pressure. Whetever the truth is, I'll try not to react badly." They finished by putting their hands up and smiling. 

Both looked at their friends who nodded. "Hey I'm cool with you being a shape-changing spirit, or some cryptid, or whatever you are. Again, I'm sorry." Sam smiles.

Diego nods and says "Ditto, what she said."

"And if you're not ready right now, we trust you. We just want you to be comfortable with us. You can talk later

Now was the time to come clean to her friends. It wasn't because she was backed into a corner. They let her keep her secrets if she really needed too.

Her eyes tear up, and the tears wetted her cheek. They trust her.

Hopefully they stayed true to their words. Here goes nothing.

"Um, Let me tell you about a place called the Boiling Isles"

She shapeshifts into her true skin for the first time in their presence.

Sam fellbackwards off her chair while Diego simply said "woah." After squeaking in a high pitch, Masha just stared, taking in the details of her true for  from her tail to her hair.

She could’ve eased the group in better, could've given them a better idea of what to expect. But flowery speeches were Luz’s deal, and Vee wanted to rip off the bandaid.

She hoped they  would share Mom and Luz's opinions on how non-threatening she looked. Masha looked far from disgusted at least, but she had no idea what was on Diego's mind.

Sam lifted her chair to defend herself, before realizing how it looked and set it down. Vee only now remembered Sam has a fear of snakes, Ophidiophobia if she's correct. 

She considered apologizing, but decided against it, given this whole thing was mostly Sam's fault. She could be petty, she deserves it. She's definitely getting around to it later though.

they let her explain herself in full, with no interruptions. She told them about the titan, demon and witches. She wasn't quite ready to tell them how she was born, but she told them she pretended to be Luz for the summer.

Everyone's eyes grew wide at the admission, and it looked like they had something to say. Then they looked in her eyes and she gave a look that said she never wanted to hurt them.

She didn't expect them to start joking around so quickly after several earth shattering revelations, but she could tell that they wanted to lighten the mood before discussing them.

They were also being super frustrating about the cute comments.

“I'm not cute. Luz calls everything cute, like. Possums, for one.” She scrunches her face, “and she didn't even bat an eye at a bunch of talking rats!” 

“Your face looks like a cat,” says Diego, his mouth curved in an uncharacteristicly mischievous grin. “But like, a bald cat that fell in a can of green paint.” He teases. 

"Hey, you up for that hug yet, Vee?" Masha smiled that pretty gap toothed smile, and Vee felt her resolve shatter. 

"Y'know what? yeah. I could use one." Vee agreed.

"Want to make it four?" They asked, to which Vee nodded.

Vee tightly hugged Masha, and they embraced. With Vees hace in the crook of their neck, she wrapped her tail around Diego who had moved behind her. "Sweet" he simply remarked.

Masha looked at where Sam sat crisscrosed, hand hovering over Vee's tail hesitsntly. "Hey, you know she's not slimy, right?" Masha indignantly asked. "She's also warmer than I expected, she barely even feels like a snake. More like what I imagine a dragon would be like." Masha blinked "Can you turn into a dragon?" Masha almost shouted.

Vee shrugged, Sam insisted "But do I have to?"

"Yeah, get over here dummy!" Vee wrapps the end of her tail around Sam's midsection. Vee thinks she looks a bit pale.

"Geez it must be 'everybody bully Sam hour' today! Really, I'm still sorry," Sam defends. 

"You were a jerk, you owe me something expensive!"

Diego and Masha laughed at Sams expression, Vee leans deeper into Masha's hug. 

"You okay Vee-Vee?" masha softly asks.

"Yeah," Vee looks around at her friends. getting an idea.

"Cabin seven!"

"HOO HAA HAA!" chorused four voices

"I love you guys." whispered the shapeshifter amongst her closest friends.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Greedflation, but for prisoners

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW (Apr 21) in TORINO, then Marin County (Apr 27), Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

Today in "Capitalists Hate Capitalism" news: The Appeal has published the first-ever survey of national prison commissary prices, revealing just how badly the prison profiteer system gouges American's all-time, world-record-beating prison population:

https://theappeal.org/locked-in-priced-out-how-much-prison-commissary-prices/

Like every aspect of the prison contracting system, prison commissaries – the stores where prisoners are able to buy food, sundries, toiletries and other items – are dominated by private equity funds that have bought out all the smaller players. Private equity deals always involve gigantic amounts of debt (typically, the first thing PE companies do after acquiring a company is to borrow heavily against it and then pay themselves a hefty dividend).

The need to service this debt drives PE companies to cut quality, squeeze suppliers, and raise prices. That's why PE loves to buy up the kinds of businesses you must spend your money at: dialysis clinics, long-term care facilities, funeral homes, and prison services.

Prisoners, after all, are a literal captive market. Unlike capitalist ventures, which involve the risk that a customer will take their business elsewhere, prison commissary providers have the most airtight of monopolies over prisoners' shopping.

Not that prisoners have a lot of money to spend. The 13th Amendment specifically allows for the enslavement of convicted criminals, and so even though many prisoners are subject to forced labor, they aren't necessarily paid for it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

Six states ban paying prisoners anything. North Carolina caps prisoners' pay at one dollar per day. Nationally, prisoners earn $0.52/hour, while producing $11b/year in goods and services:

https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html

So there's a double cruelty to prison commissary price-gouging. Prisoners earn far less than any other kind of worker, and they pay vastly inflated prices for the necessities of life. There's also a triple cruelty: prisoners' families – deprived of an incarcerated breadwinner's earnings – are called upon to make up the difference for jacked up commissary prices out of their own strained finances.

So what does prison profiteering look like, in dollars and sense? Here's the first-of-its-kind database tracking the costs of food, hygiene items and religious items in 46 states:

https://theappeal.org/commissary-database/

Prisoners rely heavily on commissaries for food. Prisons serve spoiled, inedible food, and often there isn't enough to go around – prisoners who rely on the food provided by their institutions literally starve. This is worst in prisons where private equity funds have taken over the cafeteria, which is inevitable accompanied by swingeing cuts to food quality and portions:

https://theappeal.org/prison-food-virginia-fluvanna-correctional-center/

So you have one private equity fund starving prisoners, and another that's gouging them on food. Or sometimes it's the same company. Keefe Group, owned by HIG Capital, provides commissaries to prisons whose cafeterias are managed by other HIG Capital portfolio companies like Trinity Services Group. HIG also owns the prison health-care company Wellpath – so if they give you food poisoning, they get paid twice.

Wellpath delivers "grossly inadequate healthcare":

https://theappeal.org/massachusetts-prisons-wellpath-dentures-teeth/

And Trinity serves "meager portions of inedible food":

https://theappeal.org/clayton-county-jail-sheriff-election/

When prison commissaries gouge on food, no part of the inventory is spared, even the cheapest items. In Florida, a packet of ramen costs $1.06, 300% more inside the prison than it does at the Target down the street:

https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/24444312-fl_doc_combined_commissary_lists#document/p6/a2444049

America's prisoners aren't just hungry, they're also hot. The climate emergency is sending temperatures in America's largely un-air-conditioned prisons soaring to dangerous levels. Commissaries capitalize on this, too: an 8" fan costs $40 in Delaware's Sussex Correctional Institution. In Georgia, that fan goes for $32 (but prisoners are not paid for their labor in Georgia pens). And in scorching Texas, the commissary raised the price of water by 50% last summer:

https://www.tpr.org/criminal-justice/2023-07-20/texas-charges-prisoners-50-more-for-water-for-as-heat-wave-continues

Toiletries are also sold at prices that would make an airport gift-shop blush. Need denture adhesive? That's $12.28 in an Idaho pen, triple the retail price. 15% of America's prisoners are over 55. The Keefe Group – sister company to the "grossly inadequate" healthcare company Wellpath – operates that commissary. In Oregon, the commissary charges a 200% markup on hearing-aid batteries. Vermont charges a 500% markup on reading glasses. Imagine spending decades in prison: toothless, blind, and deaf.

Then there's the religious items. Bibles and Christmas cards are surprisingly reasonable, but a Qaran will run you $26 in Vermont, where a Bible is a mere $4.55. Kufi caps – which cost $3 or less in the free world – go for $12 in Indiana prisons. A Virginia prisoner needs to work for 8 hours to earn enough to buy a commissary Ramadan card (you can buy a Christmas card after three hours' labor).

Prison price-gougers are finally facing a comeuppance. California's new BASIC Act caps prison commissary markups at 35% (California commissaries used to charge 63-200% markups):

https://theappeal.org/price-gouging-in-california-prisons-newsom-signature/

Last year, Nevada banned any markup on hygiene items:

https://www.leg.state.nv.us/App/NELIS/REL/82nd2023/Bill/10425/Overview

And prison tech monopolist Securus has been driven to the brink of bankruptcy, thanks to the activism of Worth Rises and its coalition partners:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/08/money-talks/

When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time. Prisons show us how businesses would treat us if they could get away with it.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/20/captive-market/#locked-in

[which-item-poll-archive]

Archiving Which-Item-Poll

Trigger tag list - at the moment outlines NSFW tags but will cover other tags soonish

Tag directory - A key to the tags I use as well as ways to browse by category or the month the poll was originally posted.

Please follow @pick-an-item-poll as they're continuing to post polls where you choose an item

If you want to follow the original blog's new poll blog, it's @hear-me-out-poll

What is this blog?

Basically I'm trying to (manually) reblog everything from their blog to this blog to create a more permanent archive once which-item-poll deactivates the original blog. I'm doing this because tumblr's search functions are notoriously useless for finding specific posts and many posts get entirely lost without a blog's archive page. Additionally, this preserves the tags that contain the information about the items, most notably the websites where they can/could be found.

Once the archive is complete and posted, we'll see where this goes from there.

@which-item-poll if you want me to delete a specific post or a couple that I re-blogged from you please ask me and I will. (Even after you've deleted the blog, since I know your main)

About the Archivist

You can call me Arc (not my name, but it works for now), I'm non-binary and my pronouns are she/they! I'm not the original owner of which-item-poll. I'm typically slow to respond to messages, but will take any suggestions into consideration even if I haven't responded to you yet.

Archive progress

Currently in the queue:

July, August, September, October, November and December 2024

Completed Months:

*January, *February, *March, *April, *May and *June 2024

(* these months still need their category tags reviewed and possibly edited)

Needs to be queued/drafted:

Anything posted by OP between now (30/12/2024, 8:20pm EST) and when they decide to deactivate the blog.

Updates

Everything is now in the queue!

I found my draft about opening submissions :) Now I just need to edit it so it's coherent.

The tag directory is completed! It can be found at the top of this post! Since it was a majority vote to not change it, I'm going to leave it as is for now. I'll run another survey on if it's too long once I've pretty much completed it.

02/01/25 EST - Days left until completed archive: 17 days at 50 posts a day.

I've finished queuing and drafting existing posts and are now waiting to archive any future posts between now and when the blog is deactivated.

Previous updates under the cut

Update: My autotagger wasn't working, which I found out about 1200 posts into this. Currently working on restoring tags to the posts already reblogged. I've managed to fix my autotagger but I had to clear the queue and drafts. (I didn't want to do it... but must to preserve my sanity.... and more importantly my wrist) Once I've got the tags back on the January posts (manually) I'll be able to fill the queue and drafts back up with the original tags intact.

Update: Everything that was posted had the tags added back on. Resuming queuing posts (and I've confirmed that the autotagger is copying the tags). Starting the queue again since there's enough in there to run while I sleep.

Update: I have been misspelling February in all of my tags. I will fix this and continue to fix this as they get posted from the queue.

Update: All the miss-spelt tags have been corrected

Update: I made the pinned post nicer to read! I also added some information.

Update 15/12/24 EST: If I run the queue at 50 posts a day, it will take 45 days to post everything from the original blog to this blog.

19/12/24 7pm EST - Taking a very short break from working on the archive as I have my final assignment due for a university course due tonight. (in about 10 hours in my local time). I should be back to doing stuff with it tomorrow. :)

Update 21/12/24: I'm back to it and working on adding tags to posts before making a directory again. For now, All current archival posts and ones that are in the queue now have the tag #which-item-poll-archive

Update: I have lost my draft about new submissions somewhere :(

Since it was a majority yes vote on the survey about new polls, I'm currently considering how I'd go about doing that.

NSFW items are on their way to the top of the queue. Here's a post about the tags to block if you don't wanna see them! :)

The tag directory is completed! It can be found at the top of this post! There's also a new survey about it. Is it too long?

I'm also going to try and post some things manually to get that time down, but can't guarantee that I can do this a lot due to things happening IRL.

Needs to be queued/drafted:

Any posts remaining in which-item-poll's queue or any other post made between time of update (4:47am on the 15th of December EST) and when OP decides to deactivate the blog.

Pretty close to queuing everything now. Going to include some of the repeat posts from the month of December that were meant to let people know the blog was deactivating ect. But I'm not going to include every single reblog of them. Just for the sake of slightly smoother browsing whilst still backing up the posts.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

A great article and a fairly quick read.

By Sadhbh O'Sullivan

Nathalie MacDermott, a paediatric infectious diseases doctor, she says: 'If we had another pandemic tomorrow, I think we would make the same mistakes again'

Nathalie MacDermott is a paediatric infectious diseases doctor and clinical lecturer at King’s College London. While working on a Covid ward at Great Ormond Street in May 2020, she contracted Covid, leading to a spinal injury that impairs her ability to work until this day. She is part of Long Covid Doctors for Action, an advocacy group that is filing a class action lawsuit with the NHS for not adequately protecting healthcare workers from the risks of infection.

Here, she explains to i why she’s part of the movement to sue the NHS.

I do a mixture of research and clinical work, and in March 2020 I went to work at Great Ormond Street during the Covid pandemic. I was initially looking after children with infectious diseases and immunological conditions, and got Covid for the first time at the end of March, likely through a shared office.

At the time, we weren’t permitted to wear surgical face masks or PPE in offices, just on the wards, I think due to concern over the availability of PPE – it was prioritised for use on wards. But because we couldn’t socially distance in offices, people were understandably concerned. By the time I recovered and returned to work, they’d introduced a mask policy in offices due to pressure from the staff.

After I recovered, I went back to work on the Covid ward for children with multisystem inflammatory syndrome, a condition associated with acute Covid. It was not an intensive care ward where staff were allowed to wear full PPE, but a standard ward where the level of PPE was lower.

I was very concerned about the level of PPE that we were provided with at the time, and raised my concerns repeatedly over five weeks, trying to get to the people who would actually listen. But they just kept saying they were following the guidance from the NHS, and we didn’t really know where that guidance was coming from at that time. We were just given surgical face masks, small aprons to cover the torso, and a pair of gloves.

The reason given was that they were prioritising PPE for people exposed to what they consider aerosol generating procedures [medical procedures that lead to aerosols or air being released from a person’s respiratory tract] like being on a ventilator. The crazy thing is that the concept of aerosol generating procedures is a fairly nebulous one: at the time they were saying resuscitation (where you’re pushing on someone’s chest) wasn’t AGP, but someone on a filtered, closed circuit ventilator was. We now have fairly solid data that shows coughing is probably the biggest generator of aerosols, above and beyond other procedures.

I think there was a denial at the time [from the NHS as a whole, not the individual NHS trusts] that Covid was airborne. Plus, there wasn’t adequate ventilation on the ward because it was a repurposed building that didn’t have the air filtered at appropriate intervals; we couldn’t open the windows because there was dust everywhere from building works going on, and it was cold.

I worked at the forefront of the Ebola epidemic in Liberia and my PhD investigated the community spread of Ebola in Sierra Leone. It meant I was even more aware that there were risks of after effects with a viral infection. We know that just because you survive something like Ebola or glandular fever it doesn’t mean you won’t have ongoing symptoms for a long time afterward. I think it meant I was more willing to fight for better PPE and was very familiar with infection prevention, control procedures and personal protective equipment. Despite that, people still didn’t want to listen to what I had to say.

It was incredibly frustrating, not so much for myself but because I was very concerned about my colleagues. Around the time I was on that ward in 2020 we’d just lost one of the most senior nurses in my department to Covid. And even that wasn’t enough to convince people that we should have a better grade of PPE.

I continued to challenge the PPE guidance until I got Covid again in May 2020. After my initial acute Covid symptoms settled, I noticed I was still getting a lot of nerve pain in my feet, which then developed into limiting my ability to walk. It’s thought that Covid somehow damaged my spinal cord, but it’s not entirely clear how or what exactly happened.

I now struggle to lift my legs off the ground, so I can only walk very short distances on my own, and a bit longer on crutches. I also suffer from fatigue and get tired easily, I have bladder and bowel impairment, I have issues with dry eyes and mouth. Are they Covid related? Who knows, but that’s when they started for me. Either way, these symptoms haven’t changed in the last three and a half years.

The impact has limited me. I’m able to work nowadays, when many of my colleagues aren’t, but I largely work from home and do research. A full-time clinical job is physically too demanding for me. I did have a mobility scooter to help me get around wards, but even that was quite exhausting. Even going up a flight of stairs some days is a real challenge.

My passion has always been doing disaster and epidemic response with a non-governmental organisation, and obviously it’s quite difficult to send a doctor who’s disabled out to a war zone or epidemic situation. This has cost me my career in some respects, as I won’t be able to be the paediatric infectious diseases consultant I was hoping to be.

The whole purpose of our class action lawsuit is to prevent this situation happening again and we encourage any healthcare worker who has been affected to join the action.

We now understand that the NHS guidance on PPE had been issued by the Infection Prevention and Control cell that was part of the NHS pandemic strategy. Unfortunately, the IPC cell remains somewhat shrouded in mystery because its membership and minutes have never been made public. We have no idea about the decision making.

Despite the fact we now know that there is clearly aerosol spread of Covid, the PPE guidance still hasn’t changed. They’re recommending that full PPE should only be worn for aerosol generating procedures, even now when there are no more concerns about shortages.

There’s a study that was conducted at Cambridge University Hospitals that showed once they introduced full PPE (high grade masks) on their Covid wards, they went from having a relatively high incidence of infection in healthcare workers to having almost no infection. There’s good evidence now to suggest it certainly would have protected us on the ward.

But if we had another pandemic tomorrow, I think we would make the same mistakes again.

We’re bringing this action because we want doctors and all healthcare workers to feel represented. We want the NHS to recognise that it had a duty of care and still does have a duty of care to its staff, and that means providing the absolute best it can for its staff, not a halfway measure.

We want long Covid to be recognised as an industrial disease by the industrial injuries advisory council, meaning it’s eligible for an industrial payout through a government scheme. As yet it’s not being recognised as it’s very difficult to define what long Covid actually is.

For me, this isn’t about money – it’s about holding people accountable and ensuring we don’t make the same mistakes again in the future. For some of my colleagues, though, who have lost their livelihoods and their jobs and have been unable to work for many years, and are unemployed and applying for universal credit, and using food banks, then I think a pay out is justified and of significant benefit to them because of the struggles they have at the moment financially.

[suppose-i-was-worm]

I Put A Spell On You

Fake Dating (Part 1)

**I know, it's not the one that I started writing and was really funny, I'm having a lot of trouble with that one. Enjoy this one instead!**

“I need your help.”

Damian frowned, stashing away the knife he’d hidden beneath his pillow. Danny was crouched on the sill of the window he’d come in through, looking at him with wide blue eyes.

“Tt. What do you need? It is well past midnight.”

“I need you to fake date me.”

“What?”

Danny flinched, and Damian realized how sharp his question had been.

“My apologies. Please explain to me what is going on so that I can best assist you.”

Coming fully into the room, Danny started to explain.

“So, you know my parents and holidays, right? They- they’ve started hounding me about bringing home a significant other since Jazz got married.”

Damian nodded- he was familiar with Danny’s parents’ personality, even having never met them.

“Anyways, for Thanksgiving, they’re threatening to invite Paulina over and make me sit next to her. Paulina, Dames! I wouldn’t survive. So I told them I had a boyfriend who lived here in Gotham, and now they’re insisting on coming here to visit. If they find out I lied, I’ll be dead! My grades are too good for an early death.”

“So you came to me.”

“You’re the only person I know well enough to pull this off, Damian.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit picked up from his father.

“And you did not think to tell them about-“

Cutting him off, Danny grabbed Damian’s face and looked directly into his eyes, a serious look on his face.

“Damian, I assure you it would be a fate worse than death if they found out how we met.”

Damian pulled himself away from Danny, glad for the dim light of his bedroom hiding the blush heating up his cheeks. The other man had never been that close to his face, and Damian would probably say that Danny’s eyes were more dangerous for him than the entire League of Assassins.

“Please, Dames? It’s Paulina we’re talking about.”

Closing his eyes, Damian thought things through. Fake dating Danny would be- a blessing and a curse at the same time. A blessing, as it would require him to be close to the other man for extended periods. A curse, because he knew it would end as soon as Danny’s parents left Gotham. For Damian, who had been struck by Danny’s beauty from the first moment he’d seen the other, the brief benefits might just outweigh the pain of them ending. At least he’d have the memory of being close to Danny.

When he opened his eyes, Danny was holding his hands in a mock praying position, looking up at Damian through his lashes.

“Tt. Fine.”

Danny lit up, literally, and then darted forward, planting a kiss on Damian’s cheek.

“You’re the best! They’re coming in to town tomorrow- drop by mine when you can!”

The other man slid back out of the window and flew off before Damian recovered from the kiss enough to protest the short notice.

~~~

The next day found Damian waiting outside Danny’s apartment, flowers in hand. He had done some investigation as to what he ought to bring with him to meet a significant other’s parents, so he was also armed with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates.

The door opened soon enough after his knock, revealing an older woman he had never seen before. He could see where Danny got his frame, though, as well as his delicate features.

“You must be Damian! Come in! Danny’s elbow deep in the microwave with Jack. I’m Maddie- we’ve heard so much about you!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He stepped inside the apartment, handing Maddie the wine and chocolates after she closed the door.

“Oh, you’re a charmer, aren’t you? Danny!”

Danny poked his head out of the kitchen, and Damian almost swooned at the look Danny gave him.

“Hey Dames! Glad you could make it!”

He emerged, wiping what looked like grease off his hands, and took the flowers that Damian handed him.

“For you, Beloved.”

More importantly, he also took the short kiss Damian gave him over the bouquet.

When Damian pulled away, he was delighted to see that Danny was flushed.

“Uh- thank you! They’re beautiful.”

“Oh, you two are so cute! How long have you been dating?”

“Three years.”

“Not long.”

Danny and Damian spoke at the same time, and then Damian smiled smoothly, determined to fix his mistake.

“Perhaps I feel like our time together until now has been too short. Every time I see you, you are as beautiful as the day we met.”

He was rewarded with Danny flushing an even brighter red.

Maddie turned to her son, hands on her hips.

“You’ve been dating this polite young man for so long and hadn’t told us?”

Danny shuffled his feet, looking bashful.

“I didn’t want to scare him away. I really like him, mom.”

A large man came out of the kitchen, laughing a booming laugh.

“We can tell, Danno. It’s not like you haven’t been talking about him for the last few years.”

Damian looked over at Danny, doing his best not to let his expression show. Danny had been talking about him to his parents? For years?

Danny laughed nervously and then herded everyone into the dining room.

If he were being honest, Damian had pulled out all of his acting skills to charm the Drs. Fenton throughout the evening. He did not need acting skills for his interactions with Danny. He kept close to the other, wrapping an arm around his shoulder when he could and dropping light kisses into the shorter man’s hair when the opportunity presented itself.

It was heaven.

Danny walked him out to his car after dinner, and didn’t let go of Damian’s hand the entire way.

“Thank you for tonight, Dames.”

Damian smiled down at the love of his life.

“Of course, Beloved. Anything for my husband.”

With a scoff, Danny let go of Damian’s hand and stepped back.

“Sure, Damian. Drive safe.”

~~~

Danny Fenton knew when he was screwed. His parents had been in Gotham for a week, and Damian was still dropping by to see him on a semi regular basis. He’d even been touchy, and Danny knew that of all people, Damian Wayne wasn’t ever physically affectionate.

It partly gave him hope, and partly made him think this gambit was hopeless. He was aware of Damian’s extra-curriculars, after all, and knew the entire family were good actors.

And yet-

Damian’s parting kiss to him had been long and clinging the evening before his parents left, and he seemed reluctant to leave Danny standing in his own doorway. His hand lingered on Danny’s wrist, and his eyes were the last to tear away.

So, yeah. Danny was fifty percent sure that Damian might possibly reciprocate his feelings, but he didn’t have the courage to ask outright.

He hadn’t had the courage to ask much of Damian since they met, even though he’d been half in love with the other man the moment they laid eyes on each other.

It had been a routine summoning- He’d tasted the blood in his mouth, and while it did not necessarily taste like the blood of an innocent (he always went to bat for the victim in those cases), it piqued his curiosity enough to check things out.

He rose from the summoning circle, crown of fire wreathing his head as he showed off his less human appearance.

The cultists fell away from him, scrambling to bow and prostrate themselves in front of him.

“Oh great Ghost King! Please accept this sacrifice in order to take your rightful place as the lord of all worlds!”

Danny looked down to see a handsome young man in a well fitted suit glaring up at him, blood drying from a wound on his head.

When their eyes met, something changed. The summoning circle flared from Danny’s own ice blue to a sharp neon green, and something lit up under the chair the ‘sacrifice’ was tied to.

With noises of surprise, the cultists started to rise to investigate, but Danny snapped his fingers and caught them all in ice.

Landing, Danny inspected both the runes in the summoning circle and the one beneath the sacrifice, and then floated out of the circle to find the book the cultists had been using to summon him.

When he found it, he had the urge to finish these idiots off himself. They had somehow botched the ritual so much that they had turned it into something of a wedding, and now he was ghost married to a human civilian.

Turning back to said human civilian, he found the other on his feet on the opposite side of the room, holding an improvised weapon.

“Oh cool, you got free. Good news, you’re not going to die.”

The civilian stiffened even more, arching an eyebrow.

“Tt. What is the bad news?”

Danny shrugged.

“Oh, not much. We’re just kinda… Married now? I’ll find a way to dissolve it, or something, and you’re not obligated to have anything to do with me, but… Yeah. Supernaturally married. Is a thing. That we are.”

Civilian’s shoulders slumped, and he stalked out of the warehouse (why was it always warehouses?). Danny followed behind.

“Oh, hey, we’re in Gotham!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Close to my apartment.”

The man turned to him incredulously.

“The ghost king has an apartment in Gotham?”

Danny let his transformation wash over him.

“Well, Danny Fenton does, and I’m him most of the time.”

“Damian Wayne. A pleasure.”

Damian held out his hand, and Danny shook it carefully.

“Totally! I’m gonna- go. I guess. And look into the ghost married thing.”

“No rush. It might be advantageous to be married to an interdimensional king.”

With a laugh, Danny lifted into the air.

“Sure. I’m cool with being friends, if you want. Maybe we can work together.”

“I can do friends.”

[evanesdust]

"Did you seriously just quote Monty Python while you're lying here bleeding?"

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Alan Deaton Additional Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Mates, Hurt/Comfort, Pack Alpha Derek Hale, Injured Stiles Stilinski, Monster of the Week, Blood and Injury, POV Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Fandom Trumps Hate 2024

Summary:

[excerpt] The sudden shift sent a prickle of unease running down Stiles's spine as he followed Derek's gaze, scanning the parking lot. The peaceful atmosphere had shifted. They were no longer alone. "What do you—" See, he wanted to ask, but Derek cut him off with a warning growl, pushing Stiles back. Stiles rolled his eyes. While he loved Derek's protectiveness, he also hated when Derek got all overprotective. It reminded him of the pool incident when they faced the Kanima, and Derek shoved him back, trying to keep him out of harm's way. But he could handle himself, dammit! He'd more than proved that over the years; however, before he could argue, a figure emerged from the shadows, stalking toward them, revealing an eerie mirror image of Derek. What the actual fuck? Stiles's mind reeled in disbelief at the sight of the doppelganger, struggling to comprehend what was happening. "Uh…please tell me you have a secret twin I didn't know about."

The sky was dark when they left the diner, the moon blocked by heavy clouds. A chill hung in the air, and Stiles smiled when a hand pressed on the small of his back, guiding him toward the parking lot. Even though they'd been together for ten years now, it was something he always did—like Derek needed that connection, no matter how small. The warmth of Derek's palm sent a tingle through Stiles's body, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"Did you want to head straight home?" Derek asked, his hand leaving Stiles's back to intertwine their fingers.

Stiles gave Derek's hand a gentle squeeze, savoring the familiar touch. "Yeah. I'm ready to crash after today."

It'd been a long day at the Sheriff's Department. A typical day included patrolling and responding to calls, but today had been busier than usual with four bank robberies. Four! What made it worse was that Stiles knew something supernatural was at play. Each bank claimed the person robbing them was an employee, but every suspect had an airtight alibi, including one who had been in the hospital for a planned surgery.

Stiles sighed, ready to go home and curl up on the couch with Derek. Unwind. He'd get a good night's sleep and start fresh tomorrow, researching to try and figure out what was happening. Derek would help, of course. He always did, no matter how strange or difficult the supernatural problem they faced. It was the life they chose when they decided to stay in Beacon Hills, with a Nemeton drawing in whatever monster of the week that caused mayhem and chaos in their little town.

But Stiles wouldn't trade it for anything. This was his home, and Derek (and the pack) was his family. Together, they would face whatever came their way, just as they always had.

With a content sigh, he leaned into Derek's side. The soft glow of the streetlamps cast a warm light over the path, and the gentle rustling of leaves was soothing.

So, naturally, that was when everything went to shit.

Derek tensed beside him, squeezing his hand as he pulled Stiles to a stop. His nostrils flared, as if he scented something in the air, and his eyes burned alpha red.

The sudden shift sent a prickle of unease running down Stiles's spine as he followed Derek's gaze, scanning the parking lot. The peaceful atmosphere had shifted. They were no longer alone.

"What do you—"

See, he wanted to ask, but Derek cut him off with a warning growl, pushing Stiles back.

Stiles rolled his eyes. While he loved Derek's protectiveness, he also hated when Derek got all overprotective. It reminded him of the pool incident when they faced the Kanima, and Derek shoved him back, trying to keep him out of harm's way. But he could handle himself, dammit! He'd more than proved that over the years; however, before he could argue, a figure emerged from the shadows, stalking toward them, revealing an eerie mirror image of Derek.

What the actual fuck? Stiles's mind reeled in disbelief at the sight of the doppelganger, struggling to comprehend what was happening.

"Uh…please tell me you have a secret twin I didn't know about." Honestly, it wouldn't surprise Stiles if that were the case. Hell, he didn't know about Cora until she'd shown up in Beacon Hills, so Stiles wouldn't put it past Derek to have a secret twin. But the feral growl rumbling from Derek's chest told him this was no long-lost sibling. This was a threat, and Derek was ready to protect him at all costs.

The figure stalked closer, its movements predatory and unnatural. Stiles's heart raced as he recognized the same intense alpha glow in the doppelganger's eyes. He could only hope that was where their similarities ended—that whatever this shapeshifting creature was, it didn't somehow possess the same strength, speed, and abilities as Derek.

Stiles swallowed hard, his mind racing for a way to help Derek. But before he could voice his plan, the doppelganger lunged forward, claws outstretched. Derek roared, shifting into his beta form as he met the creature's attack head-on—fangs bared, claws extended, eyes blazing with rage. The sound of their clashing filled the empty parking lot, and Stiles was determined to find a way to help Derek before one of them was seriously injured.

He sprinted toward Derek's Camaro, hand outstretched to open the trunk, where his trusty bat was stashed. But before he could reach it, a sharp pain shot through his side as the doppelganger's claws raked across his flesh. Stiles cried out, his urgency mounting as he stumbled and clutched the wound.

"Fuck!" Blood streamed through Stiles's fingers as he fell to his knees.

Derek's fury was palpable as he shifted into his full alpha form, fur rippling across his body, his clothes falling to tatters on the ground. He lunged at the doppelganger, now a hulking black wolf, and sank his teeth into its shoulder. It was like a scene straight out of a horror movie as the creature howled in pain, thrashing and clawing at Derek, but his grip was unyielding.

Of course, it was. The minute it had attacked Stiles, there was no way Derek would hold back—unleashing the full force of his alpha power. The creature didn't stand a chance.

Stiles watched in awe as Derek tore into the doppelganger until the creature's struggles grew weakerweakerweaker. Its bones cracked and popped, the sound sharp, until it finally went limp in Derek's hands. Its body morphed, claws falling away, hair receding from its face as it shifted back to what Stiles could only assume was its original form—a pale, sinewy alien-like creature with limbs just a bit too long, spindly fingers, sunken eyes, and sharp fangs.

Derek released it, chest heaving as he shifted back to his human form and rushed to Stiles, kneeling beside him. He gently examined Stiles's wound, his brow furrowed in worry, despite his own face and torso being streaked with blood. "Shit, this looks bad."

He pressed his hands against the deep gash on Stiles's side, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Tis but a scratch," Stiles said, the grimace on his face betraying the bravado in his voice. No one would blame him, considering the sharp and throbbing pain in his side. It distracted him enough that he couldn't even admire all the tan skin and muscles on display as he checked Derek over for injuries. But, naturally, all his wounds were already healing thanks to his supernatural abilities.

"Did you seriously just quote Monty Python while you're lying here bleeding?" Derek's eyes narrowed, his expression both concerned and exasperated, clearly not amused by Stiles's attempt at humor. "We need to get you to Deaton, now."

He scooped Stiles into his arms as if he weighed nothing—something that both irked and turned Stiles on. It reminded Stiles of the FBI raid from so long ago when he'd been injured and Derek had carried him to safety. It had been the catalyst for their relationship.

Usually, Stiles would put up a mild protest, which was more fond than anything, but not this time. Not when the movement jostled his side, making him wince. The adrenaline from the encounter was wearing off, leaving him drained. Or maybe that was the blood loss.

Either way, he leaned into Derek's embrace.

"Home. I wanna go home," Stiles murmured. All he wanted was their bed. To be surrounded by the comforts of home.

"But—" Derek started, but Stiles cut him off.

"Please, Derek. I just want to go home." Stiles's voice was soft, laced with exhaustion. He knew Deaton needed to check his wound, but the idea of their bed and the safety of their home was all he could focus on.

Derek hesitated for a moment, then sighed. As much as Stiles wanted to make a quip about having Derek wrapped around his little finger, it probably wasn't the best time, so he stayed silent.

"Fine," Derek said, shifting Stiles in his arms and hurrying toward the Camaro, "but I'm calling Deaton to meet us there."

Stiles sighed in relief, resting his head against Derek's chest until they reached the car. Derek gently placed him in the passenger seat, ensuring he was secure before rushing around the hood to the driver's side. The engine roared to life as Derek called Deaton, and he sped toward the preserve—toward home—his grip on the steering wheel tight with worry.

"I'm alright, big guy," Stiles promised. This wasn't the first time he'd been injured, and considering their lives, it definitely wouldn't be the last. But he knew that didn't make it any easier, not for Derek.

When they pulled into the driveway, Deaton wasn't there yet. Derek carefully helped Stiles out of the car and carried him to the house. Once inside, he left the front door unlocked and took Stiles to the living room, lying him down on the couch without a care in the world for the mess they would leave behind.

Derek carefully ripped Stiles' shirt off with his claws. His brows were pulled down in a frown as he examined Stiles's wound, his touch feather-light. Stiles winced slightly but knew Derek was doing his best to be gentle.

"We need to call my dad and the pack." That…thing…was still out there, and they couldn't just leave it for some unsuspecting person to find, dead or not. The people in town weren't stupid; they knew Beacon Hills was special, that there were things that went bump in the night. But as the saying went, ignorance was bliss.

"I'll let them know," Derek said, phone already in his hand.

His voice was a low murmur, and his eyes never left Stiles's face as he spoke with the Sheriff, filling him in on what had happened and assuring him that Stiles was okay.

Stiles reached up, taking Derek's hand and gently squeezing it in reassurance. He hated seeing him so distressed. His life had already been hard enough—a veritable shit show of trauma and loss. Stiles knew Derek blamed himself for every injury Stiles or the pack sustained, even when it wasn't his fault. He wished he could take away Derek's guilt—ease the burden on his mate's shoulders.

"Yeah, here he is." Derek handed Stiles the phone and mouthed, 'I'll be right back,' before heading into the kitchen.

Stiles managed to suppress a groan as he put the phone on speaker, already anticipating his father's worried lecture.

"I'm okay," he said before his father could launch into a tirade.

A familiar sigh came through the line, one that spoke of years of worry and frustration, and Stiles could picture his dad pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "You're always 'okay,' kid. But Derek said you were injured. Bleeding. That doesn't sound so 'okay.'"

"He's exaggerating, Dad. You know how Derek is. I get a papercut and he freaks out," Stiles said, trying to downplay the severity of his injury. "It's just a scratch, really. I'm fine. Derek's just being overprotective, as usual."

Stiles winced as he shifted on the couch, the pain in his side flaring up. "Okay, maybe it's a little more than a scratch, but Deaton'll get me all patched up and I'll be good as new."

"Stop moving," Derek chided, stepping out of the kitchen with a washcloth and a large bowl filled with water. He kneeled beside the couch and began gently cleaning Stiles's wound. It was a gnarly-looking gash, but Derek's touch was gentle and soothing. Black tendrils snaked up Derek's arm as he took Stiles's pain, leaving Stiles a little woozy.

He leaned into Derek's touch, relishing the comfort it provided. His father's worried voice continued on the line, but Stiles barely heard it, focused instead on Derek's gentle ministrations.

"Hey, Sheriff?" Derek interrupted. "Deaton just pulled up. I'll call you later, okay?"

Derek ended the call and turned his attention back to Stiles.

"Wait," Stiles's voice came out sluggish, a side effect of Derek's werewolf mojo. "First, you should put some pants on." Because Derek was still naked, and Stiles could be a possessive bastard. He didn't want anyone but him to see his mate's bare skin. "Also, I forgot to tell Dad that the thing, whatever it was—" he took a deep breath, then let it out in a gust "—was the thing. The…thing…the banks."

Because that made total sense. God, Derek taking his pain was better than any painkiller Stiles had ever taken—a magic morphine that fogged his brain.

"You think the shapeshifter was behind the bank robberies," Derek stated. Either because he knew Stiles well enough to follow his line of thinking or because Derek had a bad habit of avoiding inflection when asking questions.

"Yeah, that." Stiles made an appreciative sound as Derek walked over to the laundry basket sitting in the corner and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.

"I'll let your dad know. Right now, I just want to make sure you're taken care of." Derek kissed his forehead as Deaton walked in the front door.

"How's my favorite patient?" Deaton asked, setting his bag on the coffee table.

"Don't lie. Your favorite patients are puppies and kittens," Stiles replied, wincing slightly as Deaton examined his wound. "Derek's taking good care of me."

Deaton chuckled, his skilled fingers probing the injury. "I bet he is, Mr. Stilinski. This looks like it needs a few stitches, but it's not too deep. You're a lucky one."

Derek hovered anxiously, watching Deaton's every move. "What do you know about other kinds of shapeshifters?"

"Was that what did this?" Deaton asked, a brow raised.

Stiles nodded. Despite his best efforts, a sharp hiss of air escaped his lips when Deaton began stitching the wound. "Yeah, but not like one I've ever seen or heard of before."

Stiles hissed again, then sighed as Derek's hand found his, the pain easing. "It looked alien, but it could shift into people. It looked like Derek. And I'm pretty sure it's been impersonating people all over town."

Deaton nodded, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked. "I've heard of such creatures, though they are quite rare. And dangerous, considering they can mimic any person they encounter. As you discovered."

"Will he turn?" Derek asked, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.

That wasn't something Stiles had even considered, but now all he could think about were the different ways someone could be turned into a werewolf. One of which was being scratched. Not that Stiles had anything against being a werewolf, but he'd prefer it to be on his own terms.

Thankfully, Deaton shook his head. "No. For one, it's not deep enough. But even if it were, while the creature could transform and take a werewolf's beta form with claws and fangs, it's not an actual werewolf. The injury it inflicted will heal normally and without any supernatural effects."

Derek visibly relaxed at Deaton's reassurance.

Deaton finished stitching up the wound and applied a bandage. "There, all done. No showers or baths for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I'd suggest a careful sponge bath if needed. Just take it easy for the next few days and let that heal."

"I'll make sure he rests," Derek said, his hand gently squeezing Stiles's. He turned to Deaton, his expression serious. "The Sheriff will be bringing the body to your clinic so you can examine it."

"Excellent. I'll take a look as soon as it arrives," Deaton replied, gathering his supplies. Once he was packed, he headed for the door. "Call me if you have any other concerns."

With a final nod, he left the house, leaving Derek and Stiles alone once more.

Derek turned his attention back to Stiles, his gaze filled with concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Stiles's forehead.

Stiles leaned into the touch, closing his eyes as he savored the comfort it provided. "Better. I told you I was okay, though."

"Yeah, well, your version of okay is different than mine."

"Your version would have me wrapped in bubble wrap and kept in a padded room," Stiles teased, cracking one eye open to look at Derek. "But I appreciate your concern. I know you worry, especially after everything that's happened. Anyway, are you okay?"

Tonight wasn't the first time Derek had killed someone, but Stiles knew that taking a life, even in self-defense, weighed heavily on Derek.

"I'm alright. And I'm not that bad." Derek trailed his fingertips across Stiles's brow, down his nose, and over his cupid's bow. The delicate touch sent tingles down Stiles's spine. "I love you, Stiles. You mean everything to me, and I just want to keep you safe."

And what could Stiles say to that except, "I love you, too."

Derek cupped his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks tenderly, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Stiles's lips, conveying the depth of his affection. "Don't fall asleep yet. Let's get you changed and into bed first."

"Think we can get the blood out?" Stiles asked, glancing at the couch as Derek helped him stand.

They probably could, but Stiles didn't really want to think about all that right now. He'd rather curl up beside Derek and sleep.

"I'll take care of it," Derek assured him, sweeping Stiles into his arms.

Now, Derek's strong arms cradled him as he carried Stiles to their bedroom and then into the ensuite bathroom, where he carefully undressed Stiles and cleaned him of any traces of blood with a washcloth. All Stiles had to do was stand there as Derek helped him into a soft T-shirt and sweatpants before guiding him to their bed.

"I'm going to clean myself up real quick," Derek whispered against his temple, taking a moment to inhale deeply, like he was breathing in Stiles's scent—something he always did. "Be right back."

Stiles sighed contentedly as Derek pulled the covers over him.

Derek was always so attentive and caring, definitely a change from the gruff and hardened exterior he used to project. A man who had once been a loner, now surrounded by a pack and a mate who loved him unconditionally.

Stiles snuggled deeper into the covers, the sheets soft and cool because Derek bought ridiculously expensive one hundred percent mulberry silk sheets with a momme weight of nineteen. He still wasn't sure what that meant.

His eyes drifted shut. "M'kay. I'll stay right here."

"You do that," Derek said with a chuckle, the sound fading as he walked into their ensuite bathroom. In the distance, the shower sputtered to life, and the soothing sound lulled Stiles into a light doze. But he woke when Derek returned, sliding into bed behind him and carefully pulling Stiles into his arms.

Stiles melted against Derek's warm, solid frame, feeling safe and content. He made a pleased sound and snuggled closer when Derek gently kissed the back of his head before breathing him in. "I love you."

The pain from his injury faded as Derek's warmth enveloped him, and Stiles smiled.

"And I love you," he breathed, letting the steady rhythm of Derek's heartbeat lull him into a peaceful sleep.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Day 19, body worship with Tim and a GN reader because I love soft Tim.

I'm also adding a lil note because I only have one more Kinktober written after this one (might go up on Friday, or I might write a request instead) but after that it's gonna be on a when I'm available basis. I fully still intend to finish Kinktober, and I wanted to write another one today but I'm not in the headspace and I won't have time to write anything at all tomorrow as it’s my anniversary. Just wanted to keep you guys that are reading these updated on it, but I'll do my best to get all 31 finished

[smileandlove21]

Green is not your color

It has been five months since the battle with Wen Zongyu concluded. The emperor has disbanded the Chongwu camp and let the Demon Hunting Bureau take over the concerns with demons. The city of Tiandu is once again at peace. The only person who is not in peace is Zhuo Yichen.

"Pacing back and forth will not resolve your problem, Xiao Zhuo. You have been restless since Zhao Yuanzhou left with Li Lun," Wen Xiao said, not taking her eyes off the book she is reading.

The great demon Zhao Yuanzhou left Tiandu to go back to the Wilderness with Li Lun. He informed Zhuo Yichen that they just need to fix something, and then he will come back. That was five months ago, and Zhuo Yichen can't help but worry. He knows that Yuanzhou can defend himself, but he does not trust Li Lun.

"I don't trust that demon at all! All of a sudden he wanted to help after trying many times to kill Zhao Yuanzhou. Are you not worried at all?" Zhuo Yichen asks the Baize goddess. Wen Xiao exhaled deeply and looked at Yichen.

"Zhao Yuanzhou can take on Li Lun. Besides, didn't he promise you that he will come back? Don't you trust him?"

"I trust him, but when will he come back? 500 years from now?" Yichen sighed deeply and took a seat on the table near Wen Xiao.

Wen Xiao understood Zhuo Yichen's dilemma. He is scared to lose Zhao Yuanzhou. He may not verbally say it, but his actions say it all. She doesn't quite understand why her childhood friend refuses to admit his feelings to the great demon. It is evident that their feelings are mutual.

"You can go to the wilderness if you want, Xiao Zhuo. You know where Li Lun also resides. I'm sure they are just around there."

"He can stay wherever he is right now if he does not come back this month. I will personally make sure he cannot enter the building." Zhuo Yichen walks away from the Archives and leaves a chuckling Wen Xiao behind.

Another month passed and still no signs of the great demon. Zhuo Yichen already informed every guard to never let Zhao Yuanzhou enter the building. He even asked Ying Lei for a spell to barricade the Demon Hunting Bureau. Wen Xiao and Pei Sijing just laugh at their commander's actions.

Unbeknownst to Zhuo Yichen, Wen Xiao keeps tabs with the great demon through Li Lun. Li Lun sends messages using his pagoda leaf to the Baize goddess. Zhao Yuanzhou knew what was happening in the Demon Hunting Bureau, especially concerning Zhuo Yichen.

"Don't you think it's wise to let him know that you are in touch with Zhao Yuanzhou? He is going crazy. I don't think he will hesitate now to kill that demon." Wen Xiao laughs at Pei Sijing's comment. The goddess shakes her head.

"Zhao Yuanzhou will come back tomorrow. Let us see what will happen then."

Before the sun even rises the next day, Zhuo Yichen is already prepared for the day. His anxiousness for the comeback of the ape demon is going nowhere. He has decided to personally drag the demon back himself. Zhuo Yichen is also a demon, and he can fight Li Lun if he ever decides to stop him.

"Xiao Zhuo daren, the carriage is waiting outside." Yichen nodded at the attendant and walked his way to the huge doors of the bureau. Unaware that the demon he wishes to drag is already outside the barrier of the building.

"He really did it," Zhao Yuanzhou said while Li Lun crossed his arms on his chest as they looked at the barrier that surrounds the Demon Hunting Bureau.

"Why did you like that man again?" Li Lun asked, which earned a glare from the ape demon.

"Xiao Zhuo does not make such decisions unless I piss him off big time," Zhao Yuanzhou exhaled deeply. He is now nervous to see the demon hunter turned demon.

"Be ready for a sword in your chest then," Li Lun remarked while he worked on breaking the barrier. In an instant, the barrier opened, which alarmed the rest of the Demon Hunting Bureau members, including Zhuo Yichen.

All the members, including the main group, run towards the doors of the building; they await for the intruders to enter as they prepare for the counterattack. Zhuo Yichen, who was in the middle of the form, unsheathes his Cloud Light sword.

The two great demons enter the building casually while the Demon Hunting Bureau stands down. They all exhaled in relief, knowing it was just Zhao Yuanzhou and Li Lun. What happened next shocked them all.

Zhuo Yichen saw the two demons enter the building, which already made his blood boil in anger. He runs towards the two demons, specifically Zhao Yuanzhou, and attacks him. Good thing the ape demon already expected this attack and defended himself by twisting Yichen's arm around his back.

"Let me explain, Xiao Zhuo," Yuanzhou whispered in Yichen's ear, which angered the latter more. Zhuo Yichen attacks are sloppy, which Zhao Yuanzhou noticed. He is too driven by his emotions to think clearly of his next moves. What he cares about is to pierce the great demon with his sword.

"Listen to me, Zhuo Yichen!" Zhao Yuanzhou sternly said, but Yichen keeps on attacking him.

The fight, or rather Yichen's tantrum, lasted for another few minutes before Yuanzhou pierced himself with the Cloud Light sword. Zhuo Yichen looks at him with tears brimming in his eyes. Yuanzhou's heart breaks seeing him shed tears for him yet again.

"Can we now talk?"

Zhuo Yichen pulls the sword from Yuanzhou's chest and walks away. His tears streaming down his face as he headed back to his quarters. His heart aches seeing them together while he suffers being away from the great demon. He wanted to hurt him so badly, which is why he attacked him.

"That was intense, I must say," Li Lun commented, showing up from the corner. Zhao Yuanzhou checked his surroundings and saw them empty.

"The goddess asked them to leave. They also left so you two can talk," Li Lun added.

"Now, I have to tame one furious baby dragon."

Zhao Yuanzhou knows Zhuo Yichen went back to his quarters. One attendant informed him that the commander asked for tea to be delivered in his room. Before he can fully enter, Zhuo Yichen throws a cup of tea at him, which Yuanzhou was able to dodge.

"Leave."

"You already thrown quite a tantrum back there, Xiao Zhuo. Don't you think I deserve to be heard now? I promised I would come back, and I did," Zhao Yuanzhou calmly said as he sat in front of Zhuo Yichen. He pours himself a cup of tea as well while Yichen looks the other way.

"I had to help Li Lun with his cultivation since he almost died battling Wen Zongyu. His cultivation was disrupted when he joined the fight."

Zhao Yuanzhou started to explain, but Zhuo Yichen already hates what he is hearing. His mind is going haywire thinking about the possible ways to help a demon cultivate. What the two had done to help Li Lun speed up the cultivation. His hold on the cup tightens, which shatters it in a minute. Blood started oozing out of his hand because of the cut, but Yichen was not bothered by it. His jealousy is getting the best of him right now.

Zhao Yuanzhou immediately takes his hand to heal it, but Yichen pulls away. Zhuo Yichen heals himself and pours himself another cup of tea. Yuanzhou finally realizes what his Xiao Zhuo might be thinking.

"We did not do anything if that is what you are thinking. I swear on my life that I simply help him or rather teach him ways to cultivate faster. You are the only person I would dual cultivate with. No one else."

Zhuo Yichen finally looks at Zhao Yuanzhou. The great demon can see the redness of Yichen's ear, which made him smile. Yuanzhou stands up and sits behind Zhuo Yichen, then pulls the young demon to lean on his chest. Yichen is now sitting on Yuanzhou's lap.

"Green does not suit you, Yichen. I like the color blue more." Yuanzhou teases his jealous baby dragon. Yichen slaps his hand on his waist as a response.

"You have been with Li Lun for months. Don't blame me for thinking that you... whatever that is. You were friends before we did. You know each other so much that you even used it against each other before." Zhuo Yichen hates to admit that he is jealous every time he sees them together. He knew that the two demons knew each other well. He cannot compete with Li Lun on how much he knows of Zhao Yuanzhou.

"Li Lun will always be a friend. Only friends, nothing more. You, on the other hand, are my beloved baby dragon." Yichen slapped his hand again, causing Yuanzhou to chuckle. 

"I promised to not leave your side for the rest of our lives, Zhuo Yichen. If I can stick myself to you then I would. I just hope you will not get tired of this handsome face." Yichen sits up and turns around to face Zhao Yuanzhou. His hands caress the great demon's face.

"Never. You are stuck with me whether you like it or not." Zhao Yuanzhou smiled as he leans in to kiss Zhuo Yichen. Yichen gladly responds as he wraps his arms around Yuanzhou's neck.

The innocent kiss turns into a passionate and heated one. Words are no longer important between them. They would rather share a passionate night, pleasuring one another to feel each other's love. A love they would share for the rest of their lives. 

[milkbreadtoast]

Cookie Run Webtoon EN TL

NEED TO SHARE THIS HERE... A few days ago Korean cookie run fandom was buzzing because 3 chs of an official cookie run webtoon had been uploaded... the pages have since been taken down (there's speculation that they might've been released too early by mistake??) BUT someone archived them so they can still be read!! And I did a (rough) english translation of all 3 chapters!!! (it was fun🥺 pls enjoy)

(Link to Ch 1) (Link to Ch 2) (Link to Ch 3)

CH 1:

note: Roguefort cookie's name in Korean(괴도맛 쿠키) is literally Phantom Thief(mysterious thief) flavor Cookie, and this 괴도 is the same thing Kaito Kid from Detective Conan is called (괴도 키드)

--

huhuhu...

(clink/jangle)

🌶:Yep, I really am a genius.

🌶: uhaha! instead of robbing a bank, it's much faster and easier to just rob bank-robbers, ya know~!

🌶:With this, my bounty will go up another level...

(chattering)

🌶: what, what's going on? (suddenly)

Reporter: As for Roguefort cookie's previously announced target, a 60 carat Yellow Diamond:

This jewel has been passed down from the Golden Cheese Kingdom for generations, and is said to be a symbol of good fortune, bringing(lit: wishing for) prosperity and longevity to the nation.

🌶: (Hmm, that's a puny gem.)

The jewel's owner adds that they will compensate the cookie who captures Roguefort Cookie, a payment of 1,000,000 coins as a reward to whoever captures this phantom thief...

(jolt)🌶: (A million coins?!)

🌶: (Then Roguefort cookie's bounty is higher than mine, isn't it!!) (1000000 vs 700000)

🌶: (THAT'S UNACCEPTABLE!!)

🌶: (I'll have the pride of a thief and steal it first!!)

(Title:) Who is the best thief?

Ep 1: Who is the best thief?

-That night

(footsteps)

🌶: WAIT, YOU THERE! (suddenly)

🌶: I heard the yellow diamond was at this mansion. Know where it is?

butler: (EEP) ch, chili pepper cookie?!

butler: This is a very tightly guarded place, How in the world did you get in?

🌶: Psh, this is mere child's play to me. (lit: chewing gum)

butler: I'm calling the guards/security.

🌶: ......

🌶: What are you doing? Roguefort Cookie. (pause)

Roguefort🧀: A sloppy disguise, I suppose.

Roguefort🧀: ...How did you know?

🌶: A thief's intuition?

🧀: Haha... how interesting.

To think you'd see through my disguise. (riiip)

🧀: Then I guess you're also aware that I have the jewel with me.

🌶: WHAT?!

🌶: HAND IT OVER RIGHT NOW!

GHH! (whish) (whish)

🧀: I wonder if you can catch me?

I am the best phantom thief who has never been caught to this day, after all~ ^^

🌶: Don't make me laugh, I'M the best!!

🧀: (heh) If so...

🧀: How about we admit that the cookie who steals this jewel is the best thief? (sparkle)

🌶: Heh, think I won't be able to snatch it from ya?

🌶: You'll end up regretting this.

🧀: We shall see.

WAIT!

!!! (pause)

(🌶) You?! Cheesecake Cookie?!

🌶: This place is your mansion too?;; (Just how many mansions do you have?!)

🧀: How did you know we were here?

Cheesecake🧀🍰: With all this terrible noise you've been making, wouldn't it be weirder to not know~?

Cheesecake🧀🍰: Apparently, it seems like you want to distinguish who is the best thief between you, but...

🧀🍰: Haven't you two already stolen all the decent treasures anyway?

Try stealing something a bit more difficult~

🌶&🧀: more difficult?

(grin) 🧀🍰That's right. If you're a real thief...

🧀🍰: How about trying to steal someone's heart?

🌶&🧀: !!!

(end of ch1)

-----

LINK TO CH 2:

CH2:

cheesecake🧀🍰: How about trying to steal someone's heart?

🌶: someone's... whuh?

RF🧀: Heart. someone's heart.

🌶: What's so great about stealing someone's heart?

🧀🍰: Stealing something tangible is too easy~

Why, don't think you can do it?

(frantically/fiercely) 🌶: WHADDYA MEAN!!

🧀🍰: And you, Roguefort?^^

RF🧀: (Heh) ...Seems like it'll be interesting. Though stealing someone's heart is also too easy for me...

🧀🍰: huhu~ Good, good!

🧀🍰: Then make sure both of you come back here at the same time again tomorrow!

I'll explain the details then~

(slide)

🌶: ...an invitation to a ball?

(creak/screech/squeal)

(footsteps)

🌶: (Where's Cheesecake?)

🧀🍰: Oh my~ Welcome, Chili!

🌶: What about Roguefort?

🧀🍰: Roguefort already arrived first and got started~ (hoho~)

🌶: WHAT?!

🌶: They beat me to it?! I gotta start quickly too, who's my target!?

🧀🍰: Wait, before that- (snap)

🧀🍰: Let's get you changed first!

🌶: GUH? (grab)

🧀🍰: Take her to the dressing room~ (what is that state you're in?)

🌶: WHAT THE, LET ME GO-!!

(thump, crash)

UWAAAGH!!!

(title: Who is the best thief?)

🌶:Ugh...!

🌶: What the hell is this!

🌶: guaah!! This dress is too stuffy/suffocating!! (creak creak)

🧀🍰: Oh my, is that so?

🧀🍰: Hold on-- Now where would my new Chocolaté Collection be... (toss toss)

🌶: ...By the way

What are you two doing here?

🥛: A part time job!

🥛: I have to buy Dark Choco-nim's goods, you see~ (hehe!)

💪: They released new protein, so I need money! (flex)

🌶: Ah...

🧀🍰: Chili! Try this on~

🌶: Phew, I think I can live now~!

🧀🍰: It suits you well~

🧀🍰: Here, take this.

🌶: What's this? ??

🌶: A mask?

🧀🍰: Tonight is a masquerade ball, you see.

🧀🍰: Your target is wearing a cat mask.

Between the two of you, the cookie who wins their favor first will win.

🌶: How would we prove that we won their favor?

🧀🍰: You just have to receive and bring back one of their things as proof/indication of winning. (You musn't steal it!)

🧀🍰: I already told Roguefort the same thing, so you should probably get going right away?

🌶: (WHAT?!) YOU SHOULD'VE SAID THAT EARLIER!

🌶: (A cat mask she said... where in the world are you?)

🍮iii: Can't I hold that for a sec?

🧙: No.

🍮iii: just once~!

🧙: No-!!!

🌶: Excuse me...

🌶: By any chance, have you seen a cookie wearing a cat mask around here?

🍓: ! (gasp)

🍓: Huh? Uh...

I, I... (th, that...)

🍓: I-I saw someone that way... (blush~) (note: speaking formally)

🌶: (whish) Ah, thanks!

🍓: 😳.....

🍮iii: trade with meee~!

🧙: I said no!!

🌶: ! (Over there!!!)

(loud footsteps)

RF🧀: ...So as I was saying...

🌶: Hi! Nice to meet you! (whack!) (shove)

🌶: For you to play dirty and go first...

(bzzzt)

(LET'S SEE WHO EMERGES THE WINNER!!!)

🐱:?

(/ch 2 end)

------

LINK TO CH 3:

CH3:

🌶: ghh...

🌶: (I butted in all confidently but...)

(awkward) 🌶: (what the heck should I say?)

🧀: The moon is flying unusually high tonight... It must be because she is jealous of your beauty.

🐱: Oh my! 🌶(dripping down)

🌶: (Are they crazy?) (I can't say something cringey like that!!)

🍮: 'scuse me!

🌶: Huh?

🍮: She said she's got something to say to you!

🍓: U-um, well...

🍓: I-if it's okay with you... May I have this dance? (lit: will you dance 1 song with me?) (note: speaking very formally)

🌶: No, I...

🐱: My, you musn't refuse an invitation to dance, you know.

Please go on ahead! (lit: go and come back)

(zoned out)

🌶: (Dammit, I can't just leave Roguefort alone like this though-!!)

🌶: At this rate, I'm gonna lose..!

🍓: U-um, excuse me, by any chance...

🍓: Could it be that you didn't want to dance, but reluctantly agreed and forced yourself to for my sake...? (lit: ...pointlessly because of me, reluctantly came out)

🌶: Ah, it's not like that

🌶: To be honest, I don't really know how to dance. Today is my first ball, ya see.

🍓: I-is that so?!

🍓: Wh-what should we do, It's my first too tho...

🍓: I'm so sorry for making things troublesome for you...! (dashing off)

🌶: W-WAIT!

🌶: Are balls such a big deal? We just have to move to the beat, right?

🍓: B-but...

🌶: Look! Those guys are all enjoying themselves dancing, aren't they!

(🍮: You really can't dance!! (stomp stomp) )

🍓: Ah...

🌶: Let's just enjoy ourselves as well!

🍓: ...Okay!

(Wheee~) (/giggle)

🐱: ......

🧀: Pardon me,

🧀: The lobby is rather chaotic, so it seems like dancing might be difficult... shall we move to a quieter place?

🐱: Yes, sounds good. (footsteps)

🍓: Whew~

🍓: I had fun, thank you so much!

🌶: Me too! (hahaha)

🌶: (Gasp) (This isn't the time for that!)

🌶: I totally forgot I was in the middle of a bet. I have to quickly go back to stealing hearts... (whish whish) Where the heck did they go?

🌶: Hey, have you guys seen Roguefort Cookie?

🥂: Roguefort Cookie..?

🥛: Ah, I have!

🥛: I saw them go out to the garden a little while ago.

🌶: The garden?

(dashing footsteps)

🥂: Roguefort Cookie came to tonight's ball? They're not trying to steal something, by any chance...? (That was Chili Pepper Cookie just now, right?)

🥛: Ah, I heard they're doing a bet with Chili Pepper Cookie.

🥛: I encountered them while I was changing clothes... they really did disguise themself perfectly!

🥂: Aha~

🌶: What garden is this wide? (Seriously.)

🌶: Ah, there they are.

!!!!!

(/ch 3 end)

[aihoshiino]

Da Vinci Magazine Jan. 2024: A Q&A with Ai of B-Komachi!

In the January 2024 issue of Da Vinci magazine, there was an in-character interview with Ai as written by Aka Akasaka that you can read a translation of here! What I forgot to mention on that initial post is that there was also a little lightning round Q&A the original anon didn't translate at the time. Thankfully, they did post it and I just... completely forgot it existed until now. ;9 Shout out to past me who remembered to save it and kept me from having to dig thru the 4chan archives for it...

Unlike the original interview, this is my translation! So any goofs and gaffes are entirely on me lol. This is also totally spoiler safe, so you can read both this Q&A and the original interview no matter what point you are in the series.

Get to Know Ai Better! Q&A Session

Q. What motto do you live by?

A. I really like "Tomorrow is a new day." I'm one of those people who forgets all their worries after a good nights' sleep. (laughs)

Q. Tell us how you refresh yourself!

A. I like taking naps on my days off. I was saying earlier that I forget my worries once I've gotten some sleep but with this job, it can be hard to find the time to actually do it. Not just that, but lately I've been waking up in the night to take care of this and that, so when I do have the time to sleep, I really conk out.

Q. What is your routine on days off?

A. I wake up, prep some milk… oh, um - I like cornflakes so I always need milk for breakfast. Then I go for a nap (laughs). I know some of the other B-Komachi members like going to beauty salons or nail salons, but I don't do nails and I let my hair grow out so I'm usually just at home (laughs). I even cut my own bangs! I've been doing it for years so I'm pretty good at it. I've even cut other peoples' hair once or twice, though not anyone in B-Komachi.

Q. Your 20th birthday's coming up soon. What are you looking forward to doing once it arrives?

A. I want to try drinking alcohol. The president of my agency keeps saying, "I can't wait to have a drink with you!" He makes it sound like a lot of fun, so I'm curious to know what getting tipsy's like.

Q. What book left the biggest impression on you this year?

A. It's a manga, but I was moved to tears by "I'll Go With Sweet Today". The heroine is a girl who distrusts people and develops anorexia, becoming terrified of eating… I have a bit of that in me too, though not quite to the same extent she does, so I could really relate to her and her journey to recovery really moved me. If there's ever a live-action version, I'd love to play her!

Q: What would you like to do after the Dome concert?

A: I'd like to go on a trip or something. Where would be nice... Oh, I've heard of 'Mito Natto' before, so maybe Mito!

Q: What's something a fan said that made you happy?

A. You know, I didn't used to read any fan letters at all. But there was a time I was getting tired of being an idol and I was planning to quit, so the president made me sit down and read all the letters I'd gotten. That was the first time I'd ever realized just how much support I was getting and it made me go "in that case, I'll give them all my love and support in return!". I even wrote a song about it. So now I treasure all the letters and words I get from my fans. I actually got a gift from a fan recently, some 'star sand'. It was really beautiful and my real name "star" in it, it made me really happy. I've still got it displayed in my room.

Q: What is "true love" to you?

A. I guess if I had to sum it up, I'd say true love is being a genius who doesn't lie. I think maybe people lie to avoid lying. I'm not sure if that's a good answer and even I don't know if it makes sense, but it's just something I feel.

Q: Do you think you're a liar?

A: Hmm~~? That's a se~cret! (laughs)

[hellverse]

wrote a little thing (emphasis on little) about dean trying to provoke cas and cas being, well, a little slow about it. check it out on ao3 or below the cut if you wanna, xo

Dean was bored. So. Very. Bored. He was convinced that if there was anything left to learn, they would have learnt it by now. Sam had already clocked himself out about an hour or so ago, which in his mind, served as a pretty good sign that they could be done for the night. They could just continue this tomorrow. Or later. Or simply at any other time but now. Because right now, Dean just wanted to drag Cas to their bedroom, and certainly not for sleeping purposes. It wasn't like he was touch starved, the two of them spent plenty of time passing up on some good night sleeps, trading them for early morning coffees and midday naps. But sometimes, Cas would get into one of those stubborn, help-the-world moods, where nothing else seemed to register. One could call it dedication, Dean, however, liked to think of it as the evil reverse viagra he had to defeat. 

And of course, as Dean’s luck would have it, they had been stuck in a bit of a loop recently. Although he was pretty sure Sam could handle it on his own, if he wanted, or passed it on to someone else, he and Cas were insistent on helping. At the end of the day, Dean knew he would’ve made the same decision, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He felt somewhat normal for the first time in, well, a while, and wanted to stay in their little bubble just a little longer. Sue him. But...duty calls. 

Dean was sitting with his legs stretched, crossed at the ankles, staring at the ceiling, when he turned his head to take a peek at Cas. The angel was burning holes into some book, concentrating at such a level he almost looked like a statue - an immortalised bookworm. Cute. Hot, even. There was something about the way his face looked, how serious he was, how his brows were just a little furrowed, and how the line between them was starting to show itself. It certainly reminded me of Dean of something. 

“Cas," no answer, "Cas!” 

The angel lifted his head in Dean’s direction, keeping his eyes on the book for five seconds longer before eventually looking at him. Cas smiled, something small and sweet dancing at the corners of his mouth. It was making Dean even more antsy, just thinking about how different his smile could be if he were to just- 

“Did you want something?” Cas interrupted before he could even finish his thought. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I did. Um, are you gonna be, uh, done soon?” 

"You can go to bed if you're tired, Dean, I don't mind staying here on my own," he said almost matter-of-factly. 

If only that were the issue , Dean thought to himself. Admittedly, he could just tell Cas what he wants, it's not like the angel couldn't return to this later, after all, he's not the one who needs sleep. The issue, however, would be that Dean wouldn’t want him to leave. He never does. And although they haven’t ever discussed it, he has a feeling that Cas doesn’t like it either. Call it a hunch. 

As much as Dean couldn’t focus on the research, he also knew, believed really, that he had enough brain power left in him to come up with a plan. Okay, maybe less plan, more technique of how to turn Cas away from reading and more to, well, him. 

While the wheels were turning in his head, he must've been staring at Cas pretty intensely, as his blue eyes suddenly left the page again, locking with Dean's own. He could see the other glance down for just a second, where his thumb was resting on his lower lip, before speaking. 

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm wonderful," Dean quickly answered, smiling, purposefully dragging the thumb across his lip. 

Cas stared at him for a second, wheels of his own probably spinning in that pretty head of his. Eventually, however, much to Dean's dislike, he turned back to the book. 

The thing about Cas was that he could be a little...unaware sometimes. Especially when his mind was focused on something else. And what is there for Dean to do, if not have a little fun with it? He wasn't opposed to some light teasing, provoking, especially when he could watch Cas slowly get the point of what Dean was suggesting, watch the little light bulb go off behind his eyes. 

Even with the anticipation buzzing all the way down to his fingertips, Dean wanted to make sure he would see this through. It was already past midnight, but he was sure coffee could only do some good, considering the plans he had. And besides, Cas could have some too. Not that he needed it, of course, but it had become something of a habit for the angel. 

"I'm gonna go fetch some coffee, do you want some, sweetheart?" Dean let his voice go sweet, putting a certain weight behind the pet name. They weren't exactly big on those, but when the moment calls...

Cas stared at him again, head slightly titled. Dean couldn't quite tell if he was getting suspicious or just a little ticked off by all the interruptions. 

"Sure, I'll take some if you're going."

Dean beamed at him, as he got up from his chair. Before going to the kitchen, however, he decided to see exactly what Cas was reading. And by 'see', he really meant lean down and pretend like he had a reason as to why he's gone over to Cas' side of the table before getting the coffee. Dean positioned himself on the left of the angel, resting the palm of his hand on the table, and putting the other hand on Cas' back, lightly drawing circles on the skin with his middle finger, right above where his shirt that Cas was wearing began. 

"Which book is this?" Dean asked, slightly turning his head in Cas' direction, but not looking at him. 

"The, um, it's about-"

"No," he chuckled, "I mean the number, how many have you read?" 

"Oh," Cas smiled, "I think this must be my fifth if I'm remembering correctly."

"Ah, well, haven't you just been such a hard worker today?" he placed a quick kiss on Cas' temple, before finally making his way to the kitchen. 

"Such hard work should be followed by a good reward," Dean whispered to himself. 

When he returned with the two coffees, Cas was still in the same position. Figures. He shuffled towards him, placing both of the mugs closer to the middle of the table, so as not to disturb the books placed in a half circle around the angel. 

"Hey," Dean muttered quietly, letting Cas know he was back, just in case he was too focused and didn't hear him come back. 

"Hi, Dean, thank you," he smiled.

It was moments like these, where it was just the two of them, the world quiet and calm like a field covered in snow, no wind and no footsteps, that convinced Dean he would never not feel the way he does now. Even before the confessions and first kisses, there was something about the way Cas would smile at him. It always went hand in hand with a pinch between his ribs, somewhat painful and warm. He kind of expected it to change, now that he knew the other felt the same, now that he had stopped telling himself it would never happen, now that the two of them were different. And yet it hadn't, not really. It knocks something in him loose every time, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't glad. 

Cas put his book down, interrupting Dean's thoughts once again, presumably to take a sip of his coffee, and Dean simply couldn't pass up that chance. He leant down, gently placing his hands on either side of the angel's face, and kissed him. The immediate jolt at the base of his spine served as a great reminder of what he was after. Cas kissed him back with no hesitation, something lazy and content in the way his lips were moving against Dean's own. That alone was enough for him to rethink his ways, thoughts of just grabbing Cas by the hand and dragging him to their bedroom flooding his mind. But again, where was the fun in that? More than anything, he was craving to see that light bulb moment, when Cas' eyes turned a darker shade of blue, knowing that the buzz in their stomachs and fingers matched each others. 

Dean decided to stay set in his ways, but that didn't mean his self-control was intact. He deepened the kiss, urgency colouring his own quiet sounds, tongue brushing against Cas' lower lip. He could feel one of the angel's hands, the one resting on his waist, softly grabbing at his shirt. 

He ended the kiss with a sharp inhale, eyes closed for a second longer, til the ground beneath his feet felt solid again. 

"Dean.." the rasp in Cas' voice almost made Dean lose his footing again. A beat of silence covered the room, letting Dean focus on the pulsating feeling in his cheeks. 

"What was that for?" Cas looked serious but only in a confused, have-I-missed-something kind of way. It took Dean everything he had not to jump him again. Instead, he just flashed a quick grin at Cas and winked. 

"Nothin', blue eyes, 's just because," he said, giving Cas one last peck on the lips.

He could feel Cas' eyes follow him, as he walked back to his side of the table, right across from Cas. When he looked up, he could see the slight twitch in the angel's eyebrow. For a celestial being, especially one that has seen a lot of what the world has to offer, he really couldn't be any more oblivious sometimes. 

Dean sat back in his chair, the warm coffee cup in his hands matching the warmth in the pit of his stomach. Cas was back to reading again, though Dean could tell he was a little more fidgety than before. He smiled to himself, as he lifted the cup to his lips. He could pretend he was reading, but even that seemed like too much work. After all, he was more than happy to just watch Cas. With the angel already slightly on edge, it was only a matter of time before he was glancing up at Dean every few minutes. 

"Dean...," Cas finally broke after about 30 minutes.

"What?" Dean answered, playing it up just a little bit to sound offended. 

"Why are you staring?"

"Can I not look at my very handsome boyfriend?" he smiled. If there was a gun to his head, he'd have to admit he even fluttered his eyelashes a little.  

The term 'boyfriend', similar to pet names, wasn't something that the pair used very often, but sometimes, well, there was just no way getting past it. Dean didn't necessarily mind the word, just needed some time to get used to it, he thought. 

He could see the slight blush forming in Cas' cheeks. The angel lowered his head, about to return to his task, before looking back up at Dean through his eyebrows for a split second. A look nearly bordering on 'knock it off', but not quite. 

The glances continued, almost like Cas was trying to catch him in the act, like something he did would give away whatever it was that he was thinking. Dean, of course, only saw that as an opportunity to continue his little show. 

By this point he had already finished his coffee, the ring finger of his right hand sliding in circles around the rim of the cup. It wasn't exactly a conscious action, not until he saw Cas glance at his hand. After that, he made it a point to look Cas up and down the next time his eyes wandered back to Dean. The angel only squinted at him.

He had noticed Cas finish off his own coffee not too long ago, so after a few minutes of pretend daydreaming, he got up, hand under his shirt, the palm of his hand resting on his ribs. This time around it wasn't so unintentional, his shirt pulling up slightly, exposing the skin. If Cas could burn holes in him, he was sure he'd be all burnt up by now. But who was he to complain? 

He slowly made his way to the kitchen for a second time, washing up the cups, and sorting out a few other things while he was there. It was nearing 4 am, and as entertaining as it had been, Dean was ready to actually get things going. 

He walked back into the library with a purpose, heading straight to Cas. The angel didn't even have time to blink before Dean was already in front of him, arm stretched out as if he was asking him to dance. Cas put his hand in Dean's, suspicion in his eyes almost completely masked by the gentle amusement. 

Dean barely waited for him to get on his feet before grabbing Cas by the waist with one hand and dragging him closer. Cas just smiled, head tilted to the left ever so slightly.  Good , Dean thought,  better access . 

"I think you should be done now," Dean muttered before scattering light kisses on Cas' neck. 

"Oh, should I?" the angel said, amusement now clear in his voice, Dean humming against his neck.

Dean lifted his head only to give Cas a look that in his head couldn't have looked anything short of hungry. That must've finally filled the missing gap in the angel's mind, as Cas' face finally mirrored the expression that Dean had been thinking about for hours now. The split second of surprise bled into understanding, and his eyes darkened. Maybe it wasn't so much a light bulb going off, as it was a light bulb exploding.

"Oh," Cas whispered.

"Oh," Dean echoed, teasing, whilst it was still his turn. 

"I think you might be right," Cas said, as he stepped forward, hand resting on Dean's chest, softly pushing him back, "I've done enough work for today."

Dean let the angel guide him until he felt his back hit the pillar, the coldness of it seeping through his shirt, a nice distraction from the heat of his own body. Though that didn't last long, as Cas pressed against him, hands sneaking under his shirt, much like Dean himself had done earlier. Cas slid his hand up and down Dean's sides, his fingertips occasionally sinking into Dean's skin. 

He launched forward, only to have Cas swiftly pull back like he was already expecting it. As soon as Dean let his head fall back, resting against the pillar, Cas leaned closer to him again, lips almost touching and whispered:

"I understand you've had your fun, but what about me?" voice sweet, smiling, moving further back and then closer again in waves. 

"Cas..." Dean breathed just as quietly, his throat dry, "Cas, once we get to the bedroom you can have all the fun you want."

"Oh," Cas immediately pulled back, "well, if you say so, Dean." 

As soon as the sentence left Cas' lips, Dean knew. He knew that Cas wouldn't let up until Dean was bordering on incoherent, and, oh, he just couldn't wait. 

[cleolinda]

In which we try to do something with the Patreon

I'm gonna try something tomorrow: the first of the month is when the Patreon billing cycle starts, so on Sunday (October 1st), I'll open a $5 level. (Right now I just have a $1 level with tumbleweed rolling by as a tip jar sort of thing.) There, you'll be able to see Effort Posts, you know, the essay-length things about vampires or perfume or music, or anything else that strikes me, early. At least 24 hours early, in a handy PDF file, and also, I can see if people like the piece before I post it here on Tumblr. Some personal pieces may stay Patreon-only, depending on the topic (do I want Tumblr at large commenting on my genealogical research? Probably not!), so there's also that. Similar things I've already posted are the Varney recaps, Donna Summer and Disco Demolition Night, Sparking Joy (Jean Patou, 1930), or my retelling of Tiny Moist Hand, so that's the kind of thing you'd see early.

That up there, in screenshot preview format, is a two-part (true) story called "I Grew Up in a Haunted House and I Didn't Notice"; it's about 5300 words all told. (Question: would you rather have the pdf in the larger font size, which I found easier to read on mobile, or the standard 12 pt, both shown above?)

After a day or so, I'll put the story here as two normal tumblr posts. So you will be able to see them here, but if you want to know how tf I could have been haunted and not known it and then my sister said I had it all wrong anyway, you can see it tomorrow on Patreon Dot Com Slash Cleolinda.

What I would also like to do is start posting weekend links as free/public posts on Sundays--kind of like a newsletter you can get whether you chip anything in or not. I'm more concerned with people knowing where I am while all these social media platforms crumble into the sea, honestly. I'll also archive some older posts as PDFs as well, although that might take a minute, so there'll be a back catalogue to browse.

As we go along, I'd like to see if I can either record some readings or just do short (under five minutes) voice posts, but I would also want to type up transcripts for those, so I need to get a feel for how much time that takes. I miss doing podcasts, although I deeply need to get a new headset. And some Throat Coat. I'm already looking over the two short Halloween stories from Livejournal that people mentioned, the ones I read aloud years ago; I'll repost those as we get further into October, and I have some posts about scary movies in the works. And you'd get those delivered to your inbox rather than them be solely awash on the waves of Tumblr.

Anyway, I'll reblog this tomorrow once the $5 level goes live, but I thought I'd get some feedback a bit in advance.