#inject this insight into my veins

[earlgodwin]

“I had an amazing personal journey to go on with that character and hopefully I presented it with a sense and reality and hopefully you will feel a bit sorry for the guy. I don’t think he’s useless. Everyone says he’s a useless coward. He’s just placed in some shit situations. I mean he would have won Forli. He would have kicked ass at Forli if his character had let him know the other Sforza was coming to cut him down from the rear...I mean what’s [Cesare’s] beef? He makes me lose a war, then he blames it all on me and then he kills me, but I’m not entirely sure why he kills me...I think out of jealousy sometimes.Huge jealousy. I also believe if Lucrezia hadn’t come over in the first season during the first war, he would have led all his troops into death. He’s not afraid of dying in that sense, he’s afraid of not being liked or loved and being left by his family. If Jeremy (Rodrigo) disowned him he would have done it. I don’t think he’s a coward in that sense. I don’t even think he’s that much a coward. It’s just his entire family, whether they know it or not, has been ganging up on him from the very beginning of the first season. What’s the problem with him? I think he’s lovely. I think he’s really kind and compassionate and cuddly.” (x)

[chronurgy]

Okay since it looks like we're really actually genuinely going to (probably) get a new dragon age game soon, here's some (specifically story) stuff I'm hoping to see:

Kal Sharok - either a companion from there or a chance to go there, please please please I HAVE to learn what their deal is

Anderfels companion, especially a warden one - I'd love to get into messy warden politics in the country they rule but don't technically rule

Minrathous - I've needed this city injected into my veins ever since I saw that neon lit, floating building concept art and learned they host laser light shows there it looks sick as hell and I can't wait to see them contrast the barbaric south with the enlightened north and the horrible bloodshed that sustains it 🖤

Par vollen or any sort of permanent qunari settlement - more information about everyday life under the qun please! It's obviously hard to do that when the qunari don't make alliances as a rule and also they're actively at war with the imperium and the rest of thedas, but still

A religious schism within the qun - the qun is all about things following their proper nature, but who decides what the proper nature of things is? People, of course! And people will always disagree. It'd be interesting to meet an offshoot who claim that they're the ones following the "true" qun and it's actually the rest of qunari society that has failed to follow the correct path (I know this will never happen, no one else in the world would actually want to play religious schism simulator 4)

A foreign born mage who came to tevinter to avoid or escape the circle could be fascinating - I think there's a lot of conflict embedded in that character that could be used to great effect. What's their social class in tevinter? How do they justify the things they see? Do they even try?

Sick fucked up red lyrium magic - lyrium potions restore mana, what do red lyrium potions do? Hopefully let you do horrible and fucked up magic. Red lyrium was so cool in da2 and I'd be ecstatic if they'd return to those roots for it

Antiva - a plutocracy with a haunted marsh? Sign me the fuck up

The half destroyed ruins of a city decimated during a past blight - make the blight scary! Remind us of all that has been lost, and let us see some of that history firsthand

Just ANY followup on the lore from the descent dlc - can we get more about the titans please???

A diversity of opinions on Solas and his plan among the dalish - please let them be people with conflicting beliefs and desires and not just one monolithic group I'm begging

Related to the point above - a dalish companion would be excellent, especially if they could help bring that insight to the party

I wanted to get this out before we see the trailer and gameplay so I'm definitely forgetting some stuff. This is also just my personal list of things I'd like to see. I'll probably do another one focusing on more gameplay and mechanical things.

[pjisskullourful]

🆄🆂🅴 🅼🅴

🚬Ethan × reader

part 6/??? [parts1-5]

NSFW🚨 literally unsafe nastiness ° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert ✨ cameo by: Damiano David ° a vacation brings out a very different side of your boyfriend [based july 2023] wordcount:::  9,318 ° 🎧USE ME playlist to add to your reading experience ° as superbly prompted by @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic: a little scene where ethan and reader are hanging out [...] it's warm out and ethan isn't wearing a shirt. and the reader is just. is absolutely [...] thirsting over ethan's arms and chest (ethan is well aware of this, because he's purposefully making her hot and bothered all day) 💋 & commissioned by the legit badass that is my girl kat (@mistressofthecats-blog) 💋 [commissions are back! secure the 7th spot in my cue here!!]

° [ITA:] facile: simple - cazzo: fuck

You had no idea what time it was when you rolled over in the hotel bed, hesitantly cracking your eyes open. Your boyfriend was gone from the bed and the world of Ibiza was drenched in sunshine.

You were surprised that you didn’t feel worse - you had been expecting the wrath of all of those martinis and cocktails you’d consumed at the nightclub. But you were pleased to find yourself nausea-free. You were feeling fatigued and a little fuzzy in your head, but with enough coffee you would be able to make something of this day, the first day of your vacation.

You eased yourself out of the bed and started to look for Ethan. It didn’t take long for you to locate him, he hadn’t left the suite, taking up a seat on the attached balcony. Wrapped in a white bathrobe, he was taking his time to smoke a cigarette. You collected a pair of sunglasses from your handbag before even considering joining him.

He turned his head at the sound of the door sliding open and acknowledged you with a smile. “Hey, party girl.” You approached where he was seated. “I thought I would have to inject the espresso directly into your veins to get you out of bed.”

“What can I say? I like to be unpredictable.” You said as you draped your arms around him from where you stood beside his chair. You slipped your hands over the soft material covering his chest as you leaned down. You kissed him on top of the head and made to take the cigarette from between his fingers. He took evasive movements, preventing your theft. “How long have you been awake?”

“A bit under an hour.” He said after a quick look at the screen of his mobile phone.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope, should I get the room service menu?”

“Please.” You responded, prompting him to get up.

While he was inside, you took up the seat on the opposite side of the table. You plucked a cigarette out of the open packet and lit up. Then you tried to restore some order to your hair, using your fingers to comb through the strands that had been left loose all night. You were well on your way to feeling like a human again, dodging that zombie-state a hangover could bring out.

Picking from the menu, you each ordered breakfast. There was something in the way that he was looking at you that gave you pause. It was making you feel like you were being assessed, with him looking at you more seriously than the situation called for.

“You’re in a better mood this morning, hm?” He said, giving you a small insight into what he was thinking.

But it only served to confuse you. You cocked your head to one side as you had a drag of your cigarette. What was he comparing this mood to?

Because you had only been having fun on this trip so far. Last night had been an absolute blast, it had felt like the perfect way to kick off this vacation - to you, at least. Everyone had been all smiles as you toasted in the craziness of the active club.

Not all of your memories were crystal clear, but everything that you could recall was positive. You remembered Thomas’ dance moves dominating the dancefloor. You could remember Victoria invading the DJ booth, energetically bouncing as she played as many Lady Gaga tracks as you asked for.

You had been feeling victorious over how things were blooming between her and Tatianna. You and Ethan had included your friend on the group trip to fix her up with Victoria. And you had been thrilled to see sparks flying between the two women at the airport. Things had progressed and you had seen them sharing more than one kiss before the end of the night at the club. You had been immediately happy for them, and proud of your matchmaking skills, so that couldn’t be the source of the bad mood he was alluding to.

You had video evidence of him enjoying himself, without a single thing to worry him. At one point, you had spotted him and Damiano showing off some Vogue-style hand and arm choreography for one another. This unserious dance-off had been too cute for you to resist capturing it with your phone’s camera. The old friends had reminded you of two kids on the playground, laughing and play-swatting at each other.

Your picture of the night was one of no issues for either of you. You couldn’t understand where his perspective had come from at all.

“It’s good, I’m glad you’re leaving the brat in last night.” He said.

You leaned forward. “Brat?”

“Oh, come on, you remember. You weren’t that drunk when we got back here.” He said.

Before he could add any more details to this surprising account, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. He left his cigarette burning in the ashtray as he got up to answer it.

He had succeeded in shocking you. The end of the night had been so insignificant to you that you were genuinely stunned over him remembering it at all. There had been making out in the taxi and you had been feeling that it would lead to more when you got to the privacy of your room.

But that had gotten derailed once you were settling into your room. You had realised just how tired you were, how much the travel and clubbing had drained you. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to give him your best and you had told him as much, with more than a few sassy comments colouring your delivery. He hadn’t helped you out of your dress and when you had fallen asleep, it had been on your own side of the bed.

You were staring at him, slack-jawed as he wheeled the food cart out to the balcony. You didn’t pay any attention to the dishes and drinks.

“I can’t believe you just called me a brat.” You said.

He shrugged as he set your waffles down in front of you. “Well, don’t act like one and I won’t call you one. Facile.”

He returned to his seat, his bowl of yogurt and cup of coffee set up before him. He appeared entirely unbothered by the conversation. You could tell that he thought he had made a winning argument and this incensed you. You picked up a piece of strawberry from your plate and tossed it across the table, aiming for his face.

Instead it bounced off of his shoulder and he looked at you, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t want that one?”

“I am not a brat.” You said, determined to defend yourself.

“I don’t know how you think I should be reacting here, baby.” He said, folding his arms on the table instead of picking up the spoon. He was staring you down, potentially just as determined as you. “We got back to the room, I told you how ready I was to fool around, you turned around to get the lube, then all of a sudden you were having a hissy fit.

“You threw things- they’re still on the ground, by the way. You swore at everything.” He said and you clenched your jaw as you listened to his vivid recollection of what had been a non-event to you. “And what was it about? Face cream, fucking face cream. ‘Cause you forgot to pack the whole set, so you only have nine, instead of ten.

“And when I offered to help you look, you told me to go and fuck myself with something hard and sandpaper-y.” He said.

You had to bow your head in an effort to conceal the chuckles you felt rising up. You were a drama queen when drunk, but you were also really funny. You had a way with words, clearly having enough impact to stick in his mind.

“‘Cause that was the only way I was gonna get a fuck ‘cause you didn’t feel like it anymore, and-... are you- are you literally laughing right now?”

You raised your head, no longer trying to hide it. “It’s funny. It’s a funny thing to say, it’s poetic in its way. Obviously I wasn’t being serious. Aren’t you used to my bullshit by now? I blow off steam and I blow it off in a big, crazy, loud, swearing, stupid way. But then once it’s out of my system, it’s all over, all gone, the demon is exorcised and I move on. In the case of last night, I moved straight into sleep.”

“Yeah, without even cuddling me.” He pointed out.

“You could have spooned me if you were so desperate for cuddles.”

He picked up his coffee, but held off from having a sip. “Did you even put the fucking cream on your face before you went to sleep?”

This set you off laughing again, louder than before as you slumped back in your chair. “No. I was too out of it. I didn’t even take my makeup off, I just passed out.”

He shook his head, but you could see the beginnings of a smile on his face. “You’re hopeless. You know that, right? Absolutely hopeless.”

“Yeah, I’m an idiot.”

Now he was smirking. “And a brat.”

You picked up more pieces of strawberry to throw at him. “Stop calling me that. I had one bad moment. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry that it ruined your night, or whatever. But I’m only human, Ethan. I was fucking exhausted, drunk as Hell and frustrated, so I snapped.” You found a blueberry amongst the fruit that had come with your breakfast and you chucked this at him, managing to hit his forehead. “Are you gonna punish me all day over this?”

“Not at all. If you’re happy today, then so am I.” He said, the picture of serenity.

“Great. ‘Cause I wanna get back to enjoying my vacation.” You said. You picked up your fork and stabbed into some of the berries that remained on your plate. “I’ll clean up the mess that I made on my own and then we can just move on.”

“Sounds perfect to me.” He said. “I’m amazed that you’ve gone this long without checking your phone.” You looked up from your waffles, wondering what he was trying to start now. “I was thinking that you would be dying for updates from Tati.”

You shrugged as you chewed your food. “I’ll check it later.”

“Really? Wow. Last night all that you cared about was playing Cupid.” He said.

You showed him a wide smile. “‘Cause I’m so good at it.”

You were ready to get back to focusing on the positives. And it seemed that he was, too. Because there was no more name-calling and the two of you started to discuss how you would fit in with the group’s plan for the day. The rest of the fruit went into your mouth, instead of going hurtling through the air.

*** *** ***

You were by the side of the pool, set up on one of the lounge chairs. You had just finished up your conversation with Tatianna, getting all of the details (and then some) of how things had progressed with Victoria.

You had barely had enough time to take a sip of your iced coffee before you were being approached again. This time it was your boyfriend. Ethan had ditched his bathrobe, walking around in just his speedo. This was enough to get your eyes off of your friend and her new fling.

He came over to stand at your side. “You’re not busy, are you baby?”

A sarcastic quip popped into your head immediately, you didn’t even have to go looking for it. But you thought better of it before opening your mouth. Judging by everything he had said this morning, he’d had more than his fair share of your sarcasm and sassy comments.

So you pushed the thought away, showing him a smile instead. “I’ve got an abundance of time for you.”

“Cool. Can you help me apply this?” He asked, holding up a bottle of sunblock for you to see. “I know you hate the greasy feeling on your hands, but…”

“You need my help?” You asked as you registered this unexpected request.

“Please.” He said. “I did my face, but- it’s such a sunny day and there aren’t as many shade cloths around the pool as I thought there would be. I really don’t wanna get a burn.”

“Of course, sit down then.”

He handed the product over and sat down towards the end of the lounge, his back to you. You brushed the few strands of hair that had escaped his bun off the back of his neck and got to work applying the sunscreen.

You worked it across his muscular shoulders, then moved down his back. Concentrating on the task at hand, your eyes looked over the area your fingers were exploring, leading you to notice the complete lack of scratches on his back. It was a shame, like you were looking at an unfinished painting. Maybe if you’d had the stamina for sex last night, there could be fresh claw marks all over him.

You cleared your throat and tried to give yourself a distraction before your thoughts could go too far down the wrong paths. “Do you want the tea?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you. “I thought you got a coffee.”

“No, the tea on Tati.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“They did.” You said of your friends’ sexual rendezvous.

“Nice. Good for them.” He said, making you laugh.

“Turn around.” You instructed.

He readjusted, now facing you for further application. “But seriously, good for Vic, I think they’re gonna be good for each other. Obviously Tati is great, a million times better than the last chick Vic was with.” He rolled his eyes just at the thought. “The definition of stuck up.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you were trying to behave - but rubbing the sunscreen into his pectorals presented too many temptations. You didn’t even check to see if anyone was looking, you just grabbed his nipples. Between each thumb and forefinger, you pinched them, a smile forming on your lips.

He gave a full-body flinch, leaning back and pushing you away at the same time. He furrowed his brow as you started to giggle. “What was that for?”

You pulled your sunglasses down a little, meeting his eye. “You don’t have to go in the pool if you wanna get wet.”

“Baby…” He said quietly. “If you’re feeling that way- you should have said something before we left the room.”

“I didn’t want to be antisocial. It’s a group trip, after all.”

“So, what’s different now?” He asked, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was about to catch you in this conversation.

“How about we get social with just each other?”

He got to his feet, putting some distance between you. “I should have known this would happen when I asked you for help.”

“Oh, are you disappointed in me now? Was this not your intention all along?” You asked. You were surprised when he didn’t immediately deny it, even more surprised when you saw the hints of a smile tugging at the side of his mouth. “Ethan?”

“No.” He said, but there was something off about his tone of voice. “As if.” You narrowed your eyes as you watched him, trying to figure out what he was playing at. “Don’t worry about the rest, really. I’ll do the rest of my tummy and my legs, since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

You watched his progress, all the while attempting to determine what he was up to. You were certain that something was afoot, but you were on the outside. What was he trying to accomplish, was there a point to getting you worked up over his body?

He finished applying the sunscreen to his exposed skin. “I would ask you to check if I missed any spots, but you would probably enjoy that an inappropriate amount.” He discarded the bottle onto the lounge next to yours, where his robe was already lying.

“You’ve sure got me all figured out, babe.” You said, unable to keep yourself from getting a little sarcastic with your delivery.

He blew you a kiss before turning away. Seconds later he was slipping into the crystal clear water. You pushed your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose and had a sip of your iced coffee, biting down on the straw a little.

You reclined back in the chair, but you weren’t feeling very relaxed. You rubbed your hands on your legs, trying to get rid of the unpleasant residue left by the sunscreen.

All the while, you were watching Ethan. Thanks to the side of the pool, you couldn’t see much of him, just his head that bobbed with the flow of the water. He appeared innocent enough as he chatted with Thomas and his girlfriend.

Sooner or later, you would get to the bottom of whatever your boyfriend was plotting.

You moved your attention to your phone, replying to a message from Nico. You looked through the group chat that was made up of your co-workers, but you didn’t find anything worth responding to. Then you started scrolling through social media.

When that got old, you pulled a magazine out of your handbag. You flicked it open, but you felt no motivation to start reading. Nothing in Kerrang could drag your attention away from Ethan.

For whatever reason, your boyfriend wanted you to take notice of him and you couldn’t help doing just that.

One thing that you took notice of was that he seemed to be spending only a small amount of time actually in the pool. While still talking to Thomas and his girlfriend, Ethan had boosted himself out, sitting on the lip of the pool. He had looked back, checking up on you.

When the couple split off, he had seemed like he was going to swim properly, pushing off from the wall, but only after glancing at you again. But he only swam to the other side of the pool, using his arms to lift himself out. He seemed to move in slow-motion. This action wasn’t complete without another glance in your direction.

Then he was just wandering around the area that surrounded the pool, stopping to talk to so many of the friends that had come to Ibiza - never leaving your line of sight. He was doing a lot of unnecessary stretching. You would read one sentence of your article, then look up to spot him flexing one muscle or another.

Was he on the verge of running a marathon, what was the point of him getting so limber? And why couldn’t you stop watching?

He was clearly teasing you. Was he getting you wound up simply because he could? Was it all just for his amusement? You hadn’t planned on spending the day getting hot and bothered over him, but he knew that it didn’t take much to get you into such a headspace. You only hoped that his plan included some kind of pay-off for you.

Or else you would have to come up with a plan of your own.

Also in your line of sight were Thomas and his girlfriend, treading water very close together. They were sharing a lot of kisses and even when you weren’t watching, you could hear her flirtatious laughter as they got lost in their own world.

Elsewhere, Tatianna and Victoria were looking very cosy together. In the shade, they were sharing a love seat. Tatianna had her head rested in Victoria’s lap as Victoria slowly ran her fingers through her new companion’s hair. They were doing a lot of laughing as well.

At present, you weren’t feeling much happiness towards your friend and the connection she was exploring. Instead you were hung up on your own jealousy. You were bitter over not having your person to be similarly horny with - Hell, you would have settled for just being cute with Ethan at this point.

You were glad for the distraction of Damiano headed your way. He was very late in joining the group and he didn’t instantly strive to be the centre of attention, just quietly taking up the seat beside yours.

“How are you the last one to arrive when you literally had no booze last night?” You asked teasingly.

He smiled sheepishly. “I got lost in the gift shop.”

“Oh, cazzo…”

“No, no, it’s totally not that bad. There’s still gifts left in that shop, on God.” He said. “I had to go in to get my grandma a souvenir magnet.”

“Okay, that’s adorable.”

As you were trying to give him all of your attention, Ethan wandered back into your field of vision. You didn’t even have to turn your head, still facing Damiano even though you couldn’t help watching Ethan. He seemed to have found the perfect spot and he sat down, ass on the tiles as he dangled his legs into the water. He leaned back, bracing himself with his hands on the ground behind him as the sun’s rays beat down on his bare chest.

“Yeah, it’s like a little family tradition. If you go somewhere new, you’ve gotta buy a magnet with the name of the place on it for grandma.” Damiano was saying and you dragged your eyes back over to him. “Because she had this huge collection from all the places she’s been, back when she was travelling all the time, before grandpa got sick.”

“You are so damn wholesome.” You said.

“And I got some bits and pieces for other people, as well.” He said. “And then I had to find the right place for dinner tonight.”

He explained to you that this was no easy feat - not with a group of this size. He had to find something within a reasonable distance of the hotel, someplace that could meet everyone’s dietary requirements. The restaurant’s menu needed to have at least one dish that could meet the standards of the group’s fussiest eater, which was Victoria.

On his mobile phone, he showed you the menu. But these dishes held very little significance for you. This was the same case with the words he was saying.

You knew that it was rude. You were also aware that a large quantity of women would do literally anything to get to share a conversation with him.

But you couldn’t help yourself, your eyes were back on your boyfriend. Your mind was wandering, looking at all that was so purposefully on display was inspiring memories to pop into your head. They were rushing at you, and soon you were imagining what it would be like to go further than you had in those past experiences. These thoughts had a temperature to them and your mouth rested open.

Damiano cleared his throat. “Look, I’m trying to not take this personally, ‘cause I get that you’re probably hungover. But are you listening to a single word that I’m saying?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am. The restaurant looks great.” You tried your best to recover, training your eyes back on him. “So, did you have fun last night?”

It didn’t take long for your attention to be captured by Ethan once again. Movement caught your eye, alerting you to the fact that he was retying his hair.

Something so mundane, you had seen him complete this action thousands of times. But right now it was utterly fascinating to you, too fascinating for you to do anything but watch.

With his arms raised and his hands in motion, you tracked how all of those toned muscles worked together. You noticed every single flex and got hungry for him to let you feel his power. Having him use his strength against you felt like the most worthwhile way to be spending your time currently.

Behind your sunglasses, your eyes moved down to his nipples and you thought about pinching them again. But you wouldn’t be giggling this time around. This time would be for real, you wanted to know how he would respond. You wondered how the expression on his face would alter.

It was the thought about what he would do to you in retaliation that got your heart beating faster.

And this was probably exactly what he wanted, which was a frustrating outcome. As he finished fixing the hair elastic into place around his bun, he looked directly at you.

And there was a smile on his face - it was small, but it was there, a departure from his typical ‘resting business-meeting face’ that earned him such teasing. With no one else closeby, it was quite clear what he was smiling about. He was smug, most likely congratulating himself on getting you all hot and bothered.

“Ethan should be in jail.” You blurted it out carelessly.

You saw Damiano visibly flinch at your exaggerated statement. “Fucking Hell. What kind of feral shit were you two freaks doing to each other last night?”

You shook your head, dismissing the misinterpretation. “No, nothing like that. But just look at him- don’t you agree that he’s a menace to society?”

“I mean, I guess.” Damiano didn’t sound very convinced. He didn’t see it the same as you, he hadn’t been victim to Ethan’s obnoxious flaunting before.

It was a while later when Ethan approached you, putting an end to your solitude. Your eyes moved up-and-down his body, because your mind was still full of depraved thoughts.

“Hey creep, is your magazine a good read?” He asked.

You readjusted in your chair and took a cursory glance at the pages you were currently open to. “Uh-huh, very interesting.”

“Awesome.” He sat down on the chair next to yours. “I’m guessing that Damiano told you about the dinner plans for tonight.” You nodded your head and plucked up your handbag, shoving your mobile phone inside. “And he told you what time the reservation is for…” You returned your magazine to the bag, then turned yourself around to place your feet on the ground. “So you’ll know when you have to be ready.”

You stood up. “Yeah, Damiano made sure I knew all that. But it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?” He repeated, his brow furrowed as you took your first step. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not going to dinner.” You said, starting to walk in the direction of the pool area’s exit.

He quickly followed along. “How come? Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” You said, pleased with yourself in this moment. “I’m just gonna be too busy to go.”

“Busy, with what exactly?”

You made sure there was a wall between you and everyone at the pool before you stopped walking. “Fucking my boyfriend.”

He stood opposite you, rolling his eyes as he scoffed. “Fucking… because that’s your…”

While he was still talking, you put your hands to the hem of your blouse. You lifted the material and his words were halted by you exposing your bare breasts to him. Instantly his wide eyes were taking in this sight and you were feeling like you had beat him - whatever game he had been playing was now over.

You let the shirt fall back down so that you could grab his hand with yours, he was still silent, but you weren’t.

“Let’s go.” You said, beginning to lead him back up to your suite.

*** *** ***

You acted upon your eagerness before you were back to the privacy of your suite. These impulses had been gaining power for hours and you were done with holding back.

Once you were alone in the elevator, you launched yourself at him. As you shared breathless kisses, your hands had grabbed for his hair, your fingers seeking to get rid of the hair-tie. Once it was free, you wrapped the long hair around your fingers and he was holding you to his body.

You barely heard the elevator’s automated ding to signal that you had reached your level. He grabbed your hand and led the way to your door. You were grinning as you kept up with him, ecstatic that the two of you were finally on the same page.

But when the door of your suite was shut, his demeanour changed. You moved to stand in front of him (intending to secure more kisses) and found a different look on his face. His eyes were no longer wide and now he wore an expression of annoyance - not unlike how he had looked when ranting at you at the start of the day. It shifted the atmosphere and you were stopped in your tracks from getting another kiss.

“Get on your knees.” He said it without any kindness, far too firm for it to be mistaken as a request.

But you were too surprised to be able to do anything at first, so startled that you could have laughed. “What are-?”

Your words were halted when he placed both of his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t have to tell you what he was talking about when he could so easily just show you. He pushed down and you went with this movement, bending your knees. You lowered yourself to the carpeted floor, tilting your head back so that you could keep your eyes on his serious face.

“I guess you don’t feel like saying please.” You said as his stony exterior stirred something inside of you.

“I guess I don’t feel like dealing with anymore fuckin’ attitude out of you.” He said, prompting you to open your mouth because you were ready with your reply. You were ready to defend yourself, and argue if you had to. You were going to remind him of the outcome of this morning’s discussion - that he was going to be happy if you were. And you hadn’t done anything worthy of being called a brat today.

But before you could breathe a single syllable, he was snapping his fingers, surprising you again. Your mouth hung open as you stared at him.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson about how sometimes you go too far with your attitude and it’s not the kind of thing that I’m just gonna let fly.” He said.

You found that any argumentative things to say were floating out of your head. Instead you were taking in his position of authority. You weren’t accustomed to carrying yourself like a submissive, but the way he was acting impressed upon you that it would be correct to behave as such.

Everything that you had anticipated for this afternoon was swiftly flying out the window.

But you had no motivation to resist this altered dynamic. You didn’t dislike how small you felt in this moment, positioned at his feet. You were granted a view of his body that differed from the typical, and the curves of his muscles were more defined - inviting you to stare more. It prompted more admiration, encouraging you to feel small in comparison. You registered the fact that he had all of the power, and you had none.

“Are you ready to learn your lesson?” He asked of you.

There was no fight or sass in you, all that you wanted to do was consent. “Yes.”

“Then you can stand up.”

You were already feeling a little shaky as you got to your feet, ready to be blown away by him.

His hands returned to your body, grabbing you by the biceps. You saw his jaw clench, that displeased look remaining. He pushed you backwards and you were trying to not lose your balance as he started walking forward, moving you in his momentum. Until your back reached the wall. You were pressed into the wall with him leaning in, filling your personal space. And you welcomed it, licking your lips as you tilted your head in anticipation of getting a kiss.

Before this could happen, you were being spun around. He moved too quickly for you to keep up and before you knew what was going on, your front was being shoved to the wall. Your heart was pounding, this was more than you could have imagined and your thighs were twitching.

“You want me to kiss you, is that what you want, baby?” He asked, and there was something about hearing him taunt that made you want to melt. “Because if that’s how you want it, just say. And we can kiss and have all of the eye-contact and I’ll give you everything you want.” Another shove got your face closer to the wall. “But I could have sworn that you said you were ready to learn your lesson.”

“I am ready.” You said.

“You’re definitely not ready.”

Before you could even start asserting your willingness to do all of this, he interrupted your thoughts by grabbing for the fly of your denim shorts. He unbuttoned them, swiftly pulling the zipper down. With them loosened he could tug them down, yanking until they were tumbling, falling down to the ground.

Then his hands went to your panties and he grabbed two fistfuls of the thin material (which was no longer dry). You expected these to be pulled down too. Instead he moved his fists in opposite directions, stretching the material to its absolute limit. Until you were hearing the lingerie rip, falling limp onto your skin. You gasped and it felt like there was fire coursing through your veins.

Slap. The sound of his open hand striking your bare butt seemed to echo in the otherwise-silent room.

You felt the stinging follow-up to this strike so much deeper than the surface. It rattled through you, the powerful action demanding a powerful response. Your heart skipped over a few beats as you settled into the fact that you had no idea what was going to happen next.

You were yanked away from the wall, feeling as weightless as a ragdoll when he swept you up into his arms. With the side of your body pressed to him, your feet were taken from the ground.

“You can say stop at any time, okay?” He told you, the harsh edge taken out of his tone briefly.

“Okay.” You repeated without any real intention of interrupting him with that mood-killer of a word.

Aside from showing you this small mercy, he wasn’t done with laying down the law and you soon found yourself being tossed onto the unmade bed. You landed on your chest and didn’t instantly roll over to look at him, or seek a more comfortable position. Instead, with your thoughts racing, you waited for his guidance on what came next.

This came in the form of him climbing onto the bed alongside you. He wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, applying enough pressure to keep you from raising your head.

You could get yourself free if you truly wanted to. It wouldn’t take all of your strength and you could execute it in about three moves.

But that didn’t interest you at all. You were savouring how it felt to be at his mercy. It was so arousing to know how little he was holding back. You wanted to know all of the desires that had prompted this change in him, you wanted to experience them all.

His free hand was used to smack one of your ass cheeks. Your breath got caught in your throat because this was the hardest he had ever spanked you. Immediately it set the tone, another sign of how he wasn’t holding back. This wasn’t going to be like any past spankings, it wasn’t part of a seduction or to tease you into getting hornier. There was no playfulness in how he wanted to make his point.

Your other cheek was treated to its own equally hard smack. You squeezed your eyes shut and your heart was beating harder with each passing second.

You were still feeling the effects of the second spank when the third landed upon your butt. Blood was rushing to this area, his hands leaving behind pink marks, which were only going to get brighter.

You couldn’t hold back the moan that came in response to the fourth spank. The intensity was so much, building up a pressure that dominated your thoughts, demanding that nothing else be thought of.

He took his hand off of your neck, using it to grab a section of your hair. He tugged, prompting you to lift your head from the sheets. “Did you say something, babe?”

“Nope.” You quickly responded.

“Good, because I-” He struck your ass. “-am not-” You experienced another slap. “-done.”

He released your hair and shoved you back down to the mattress. You arched your back, showing your willingness by presenting your butt to him. You were soon feeling the seventh spank. You audibly gasped, your toes curling a little.

“I’m a fan of these noises you’re making.” He said, during the fragile calm between spanks. “You wanna make some more for me?”

You turned your head, resting your cheek on the covers. “Yes.”

From your current viewpoint you couldn’t look at him properly. Mostly you could see the arm that was keeping you held down, the muscles tensed as he exerted his control. You wondered if he was erect by now, or was it just you getting all worked up?

You smiled when you felt the next spank, letting out a loud whimper as more of your body responded to this. You licked your lips, you had decided that the way your skin was stinging felt good. You were starting to hope for him to hit you hard enough to make you feel it each time you sat down tomorrow.

Your pussy was throbbing as he landed a sharp slap onto each cheek. You whined loudly for him. Feeling the absence of any shame, you were prepared to get even louder for him. He had moved you into the mindset that you would do whatever it took.

“Does that hurt?” He asked as you were waiting for the next spank to come.

“I can take it.” You said, giving your sore ass a quick wiggle.

“Still so confident.”

You continued to wait for the thrill of another spank, unwilling to catch your breath. Instead you felt him moving around the bed and his hand left the back of your neck.

From his new position, he reached a hand under your body. You hadn’t been given any kind of guidance to move, so you were still as you observed what he was doing. The palm of his hand faced upwards as he slid his hand down to your crotch.

Your heart leapt when his finger moved between your labia majora, making contact with your clitoral hood. You were already so turned on that you were instantly sensitive to the touch.

“Oh.” He said and you were biting into your bottom lip. “I can’t even pretend to be surprised that you’re this wet.”

You hummed in response, delighted by the way he had started to rub you. You shut your eyes and sank into this treatment, not bothering to question his motives.

Remaining face-down, you felt the potential of melting at his touch. He worked his finger in little circles over the hood with the perfect amount of pressure. You whimpered again, hoping this was to his liking as you indulged in this wonderful stimulation.

But before he could take you up to that next, blissful level he was taking his hand away. You froze, too caught off-guard to know what to do.

Your mouth hung open as you waited, absolutely yearning for more. He didn’t provide it, pulling his hand out from underneath you, then you were feeling the mattress shift as he got up. You were too stunned to give him any attitude about this, silently turning your head so you could watch him. He was calmly walking across the floor, going over to shut the curtains (which you hadn’t noticed until this moment).

The suite got darker, but you could still see him as he slid his swimwear off. You saw how his erect cock pointed out directly in front of him, now that it was freed. You couldn’t help squirming a little as he came back over to the mattress.

Instead of progressing and climbing on top of you, he resumed his spot sitting next to you. You grabbed for handfuls of the bedsheets as you anticipated what he would do next. You knew exactly what you wanted (the picture was so clear in your head), but you also knew that you were in no position to lay out any kind of demands of him.

He slid his hand under your body, touching your clitoris again. It pulsed against his finger as he gave you more of that Heavenly pressure. There was so much heat pooling in your cunt, which started to spread as he stroked the moist bud up-and-down. It didn’t take long for you to start making more noises for him.

These excited moans and whines were muffled when his available hand went to the back of your head, turning it, then pushing your face back into the mattress. You didn’t object, you just concentrated on how good his consistent stroking felt.

You quivered against the mattress as you giddily explored more of this pleasure. You weren’t thinking about your sore ass as your fists shook around the sheets, getting taken away from every other part of your experience.

This moment seemed to stretch out and you weren’t sure how much time was passing as he went on manipulating your clitoral hood. Even though you were hungering for more than this, you kept your greediness to yourself. Because the way that his finger worked over the slicked peak did feel really good - it was turning your legs to jelly and it was better than getting nothing from him. It was best to not push your luck with him right now.

It felt like he was settling into a promising rhythm when he stopped, pulling away a second time. Your fists continued to shake as you tried to catch your breath.

You gave your feet a little kick as the frustration rushed into you. You had to fight for it to not get the better of you, because all that you wanted to do was swear (maybe raise your voice a little). But that was the opposite of the behaviour he was currently seeking, and you had dedicated yourself to doing whatever it took. And what it took was putting up with this teasing.

He got up for a second time, but you didn’t watch what he was doing beyond the bed. You heard movements but you were concentrating on taking deep breaths, trying to find a way to tap back into your patience.

You caught your first whiff of cigarette smoke, then a second later, the mattress was shifting under his weight when he returned.

He started to slide his hand under you, resuming that spot at your pussy. Your breath came in quicker at the feel of his touch on your clitoral hood.

“Do you like that?” He asked, working his finger in circles. “Is this the attention you’ve been dying for all day?”

You squirmed with a whimper. “Fuck yes.”

You sank into the pleasure even more, obsessed with every masterful swirl of his finger. Your eyes were shut as you stopped caring about trying to predict when he would stop next, just focused on the heat that this treatment sent pumping through your body. You fell for the teasing, fell for it unashamedly.

The pressure from his finger increased, sparking more excitement from you. You put the energy buzzing inside of you to use, starting to work your hips in the interest of more pressure. You rocked your hips, trying to match his tempo as the possibility of him stopping floated out of your head. Instead you were letting the sensations build, anticipating how they could ruin you.

The smell of cigarette smoke was coming in stronger as all of your senses feasted on this moment. He was still stroking you to perfection and you made sure to keep moaning for him.

You weren’t close - more so on the path to getting close. But the disappointment was present all the same when he stopped yet again. You lamented the loss of this momentum with a whine.

“Don’t worry babe, I am going to fuck you.” He said, drawing his hand out from underneath you. “But first you’ve gotta clean your horny mess off of my hand.”

“Okay.” You said, turning your head.

He shoved his hand into your face and obediently you opened your mouth - even though there was something else you would rather be sucking on. He placed two of his fingers between your lips and you began rubbing your tongue against them, collecting the accumulated moisture. You felt somewhat dazed as you looked at him, it seemed like it had been hours since you had properly looked at him. As he exhaled a cloud of smoke, you thought that he appeared slightly bored.

He pulled his hand back, a string of saliva falling from your lip. In a flash, he was moving again. He sprang up onto his knees and moved into the space behind you. Before you had the time to glance back at him, he was prompting movement from you as well, his hands going to your hips. He pulled them up and you walked your knees forward, lifting your ass into the air.

Your head remained resting on the mattress while you braced yourself with your knees set up beneath you. He got himself lined up with you, his knees close to yours. He stayed upright as he got even closer. You arched your back, incredibly keen for him to finally do away with the dreadful distance between the two of you.

“Put your hands behind your back.” He ordered.

There were tremors in your hands as you lifted them up, crossing one wrist over the other at the small of your back. Instantly he grabbed for this, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. It was just another way for him to exert his power over you, and you gave into it, you were more than ready to lose control.

He began to lean into you, his hips meeting your butt before you felt his dick at your pussy. Instead of delving inside of you, he pushed forward, his shaft rubbing against your labia majora. His dick was smeared with your wetness as he stroked himself back-and-forth in this area. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back the urge to complain over how you definitely didn’t need any further warming up.

You were still waiting for penetration when he startled you with a spank to your raised ass. You could have screamed.

But you were swiftly forgetting about the pain, distracted by the sensation of him starting to bury himself inside of your pussy. Your gut tightened and for a second you forgot to breathe. He was seemingly done with making you wait, pushing his hips forward to fill as much of you as quickly as he could. You welcomed it, feeling a glimmer of relief.

You were given a moment to adjust as he leisurely took a drag from his cigarette. You heard him exhale deeply while your own breathing remained shallow.

Your body was already overly-sensitive when he started to work his hips at a quick pace. It was instantly exciting, at the threshold of what you could take. It was an effort for you to get yourself meeting his thrusts, trying to catch up with him.

You greeted almost every powerful thrust with a whimper. These vocalisations got louder when he pulled your face out of the covers, grabbing and tugging on your hair. Your desperate noises accompanied the consistent slapping of skin-on-skin as his pacing persisted, unfailing.

Your hands uselessly curled into fists and you wished you had the sheets to grip onto. At the same time, your walls were clenching around him, greedy in a way that you had no power over. You could feel yourself getting closer.

His hand pulled at your hair, bringing your head further back. Then he released the strands and repositioned to grab your throat, holding it securely. A new wave of pleasure rushed you as your ability to breathe became a little restricted.

And he wasn’t letting go, his fingers holding steady as you felt the slight pressure on your windpipe. Your mouth opened as he kept pounding you, so intent on destroying you. Your tongue slithered down, seeking out where his thumb was resting against your face.

“Oh, my God…” You rasped before you wrapped your lips around the tip of his thumb.

When his next jerk into you brought him deeper, colliding with your sweet spot, your eyes rolled up. Your breathing halted and your long-bullied composure was facing a very powerful threat. It wanted to shatter, poised to burst inside of you as the pleasure kept rising.

But would he allow that? You weren’t confident that you had enough strength left to do what it took to be obedient.

“I need to…” Your words came out in a choked sob.

His fingers loosened on your neck. “Sorry, you need to breathe?”

“No.” You said and if your hands were free, you would have pushed him back to choking you. “Need to come, fuckin’ Hell, baby.”

His concern disappeared just as fast as it had presented itself and he was back to working you over at full-force. His hand resumed its squeeze on your neck, the other still locked around your wrists. “Should I let you? Hm, do I need to let you come?”

“Oh, Ethan…” You whimpered pathetically. “Please.”

“Yes, beg me just like that.”

“Please. Pleasepleaseplease, please, please.” You rushed to say them all, stopping when you ran out of breath. You inhaled and pleaded more, your voice wanting to fail you as your effort went to keeping your body in motion with his. “Please Ethan…”

You were quaking as your body lingered at that intimidating edge. You squirmed into his jackhammering, the pleasure and the tension were an incomprehensible force inside of you. You sputtered out more pleas, existing only in this state of desperation.

It was past the point of too much and you screamed when he let go of your wrists so that he could slap you on the ass. Your body seized, unable to figure out what to do with the surprise.

“Come then, you brat.” He instructed.

You let the relief burst into you, thoroughly falling apart at the next collision of his tip at your sweet spot. Spasming, your pussy gushed out all of the pent-up desire and you forgot yourself.

The overdue climax made you go limp, your body slightly lowering towards the mattress. You cupped your burning hot face in your hands and your mind felt like a plate of scrambled eggs. You fell out of his reckless pacing.

You flinched, screaming a little when his hand fell to your ass for more spanking. In a whole new way, you were ridiculously weak compared to him.

“Don’t quit on me yet.” He growled.

You had absolutely no response to this as you were close to being overwhelmed by the friction created by his continuous fucking. You felt like you were going to melt into a puddle, so far past the point of coming as his dick throbbed inside of you.

But your state wasn’t the priority. Your job was to make it easy for him to use you. Your knees were wobbly but you kept them planted on the bed, conscious of keeping your butt raised for him. You wanted to crumple, but you didn’t, you put your effort into receiving each of his impassioned pumps.

Until it was enough, until the squeezing of your pussy milked his release out of him. Moving unpredictably, he started to unload into you, moaning as he filled your cunt with a new heat.

His hands relaxed on you as he lazily grinded into you to finish himself off. You bowed your head down to the bed, shutting your eyes as you were ready to drift off to the sound of him gasping your name, amongst other curse words.

You were grateful to finally get to lie down, moving your head to the pillow as you started to catch your breath. The scent of his cigarette swarmed into your nostrils.

He landed onto the mattress next to you, the harshness taken out of his words when he spoke. “You okay, creep?”

You opened your eyes a little, finding him lying on his back beside you. You smiled, still feeling the giddy affects of your afterglow. “I’m great. I’d be even better with a cigarette in hand, but I’ll survive.”

He lifted himself up so that he could kiss you before he got out of the bed. You rolled onto your side, planning to fall asleep before bothering to get up like him. Your eyes drifted over to the drawn curtains and you noticed that there wasn’t the same glare of sunlight pushing in around the edges, apparently the sun had begun to set.

He wandered back into your line of sight, an unlit cigarette and one of your lighters in hand. He joined you on the bed, handing these items to you.

You placed the fresh cigarette between your lips, surveying him as you ignited the lighter. “So you got all of that out of your system, eh?”

He smiled. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t particularly mad about the whole thing. Your tantrum was annoying, a really shitty note to end the night on- but mostly, I wanted to get back at you for all of that attitude.”

You raised your head from the pillow, you were feeling some of your energy come back. “You weren’t that mad, are you seri-...? I’d hate to get you actually mad, then you might reach all new levels of obnoxiousness.”

He feigned surprise, wide-eyed. “Obnoxious? I would never.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a drag of your cigarette. “Oh yes you would. You were being the most teasing son of a bitch that’s ever existed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much unnecessary titty-flexing in my whole life.”

“Well you’re the idiot that fell for the world’s most teasing son of a bitch.” He said, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

“Yep, that was a big-time idiot move.” You said in response to the smug look on his face.

He ran his fingers tenderly up-and-down the side of your neck. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nope, not at all. I really liked it.”

“Yeah, I could feel how much you were enjoying that part.” He said, securing another kiss. “Maybe I should do that more…” He kissed you deeply and you draped an arm around his neck as your body naturally turned towards his.

You lightly sucked on his lower lip before allowing the kiss to be broken. “When are you gonna ask if my ass is hurting?”

“Right now.” He said, trailing his fingertips down your spine. “Did I hurt that fine ass?”

“A little, you gonna kiss it better?” You teased.

“Dream on, creep.” He said. “I love you.”

You tightened your arm around him, wanting him closer. “I love you too.” You hesitated before kissing him, your mouths inches apart. “Obnoxious son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, but I’m your obnoxious son of a bitch.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

🍑  taglist: @bethanysnow - @chocolatepizzatyrant - @gr8rainbowpunk  -  @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa -  @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch -  @icarodamiano -  @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry -  @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis [join here!]

[holybatgirlz]

I've just been rereading your Or what? series and couldn't help wondering if you had any tidbit insights to share, whether it's anything to do with how Benedict and Sophie's relationship develops, how Phillip and Eloise met, how Anthony's proposal played out; literally anything you might like to share about it I'd love to hear 🧡

Right now I had Ben and Sophie’s relationship developing peaceful in the background of my philoise fic for this universe (which I’m currently stuck on), with a planned scene where after Eloise gets into an argument with Phillip after she sees his scars she shows up at Ben’s apartment ranting about it to him (while Ben and Sophie were in the middle of a date) and Sophie ends up hearing everything she says, much to Eloise's embarrassment, but she advises Eloise how to fix everything with him. 

But I can give you the first part of that fic, which starts with how Eloise and Phillip met.

***

Someone was sitting at her table.

Her table. 

Eloise blinked. She couldn’t believe it. 

Almost five years of going to Wollstone-cafe, ever since she’d started at university, when her discovery of the small coffee shop led to it becoming an integral part of her daily routine, this had never happened. In the years she’d been going there, no one had ever sat at her table, the big one by the window. And she would know, she used to come here religiously, seven days a week, until her mother had forced her to limit her caffeine intake and she’d had to reduce it down to four days instead of the whole week. 

Every time she came in, like clockwork, she got her usual order, iced caramel latte with three extra shots of espresso and a blueberry muffin. She’d tried to be a black coffee girl like her older brother Anthony, thinking it impressive to be able to down hot, dark, bitter liquid every morning, but frankly the bitter taste was too much for her to stomach. Frankly, if she could just inject the caffeinated beverages directly into her veins that would be far easier for her. And would make studying and researching so much easier. 

But back to the point. After she would put her order in, she would always always take a seat at her table, which was off to the side in the cafe and right by the big windows. Perfectly located in the shop, it always got just enough sunlight to be bright but not blinding. It was the best place to work on her research.

And someone was currently sitting there.

And, of course, it was a man.

The gall. The absolute gall of it all.

Eloise took a deep breath and counted to ten in her head, as her mother had repeatedly reminded her to do whenever she got upset, while she headed towards the counter. It was fine. This was all fine. Maybe he was about to leave. It was almost ten AM and the man had only his laptop and a notebook on the table, next to an empty cup. He could be just about to leave, and she’d have at least five, maybe even ten, minutes to put her order in and wait for them to make it. That was just enough time for him to leave her seat. 

And never come back!

“Morning, Eloise,” Claire, the barista, smiled cheerfully at her. “Your usual?”

“Yes,” Eloise nodded, trying to remain calm and not let her anger leak out into her voice. Her eyes were stuck glaring daggers into the back of the man’s head as she watched him, waiting patiently for him to get up as she paid for her drink. 

However, once Claire handed over change, and then prepared both her coffee and slid it across the counter with a small plate that had her muffin sitting on it, Sasquatch (the name Eloise had decided to give him), was still sitting at her table, peacefully typing away. 

And the coffee shop was pretty crowded right now, leaving Eloise with the option of either sitting across from Sasquatch (which she refused–refused!–to do) or taking one of the high tops that looked out onto the sidewalk in front of the shop. Sasquatch had taken not only her table, but also her preferred chair at said table, and she needed that table not just for the view, but for the space it had. All her books, laptop, and notebook fit perfectly on it. 

And he was sitting at it!

Another count to ten in her head and Eloise came to the decision to take the high top for today. Anyway, she couldn’t spend the day here since she’d promised to have lunch with her mum before her afternoon classes, so she could just deal with the bar stool table for now. This was probably just a one off.

She’d get her table tomorrow.

He was sitting there the next day.

So, Eloise was forced to sit on the plush sofa by the counter.

And the next day, after her morning classes, she had to sit back at the bar chairs again because he was once again sitting at her table.

The day after that it was the uncomfortable plush cushion once again, only at the front of the cafe this time, which only has a tiny coffee table for her to use and made her have to type with her laptop on her lap instead of on the table in front of her. All while Sasquatch got to sit at her table, with the space he never used. He just had his laptop and a small notebook, along with an already drunk coffee every time she saw him. And he always stayed as long as she did, leaving at two PM every day, when she had to get back to campus for her evening class. 

By the end of the week, when she found herself sitting by the bathroom, Eloise was fuming over the matter. 

After three weeks of changing her schedule, shifting the days of the week she came and even coming earlier then normal before he classes, Sasquatch was still sitting at her fucking table. 

For a few seconds, she stood outside the cafe, frozen in place. Eloise had caught him through the window as she was walking past towards the door, stopping in her tracks as she realized that once again her table had been taken before she arrived. 

And it was 5:45am. Right before Wollsten-cafe opened at six. The sign hadn’t even been changed from ‘closed’ to ‘open’ and he was sitting at the table. Her table.

“Son of a-” she began. She couldn’t believe it. 

That was it. She was putting her foot down.

While Eloise was left waiting roughly ten minutes outside the cafe, with the brisk, cold morning air making her shiver, before the barista Claire noticed her and unlocked the door early, she spent those ten minutes figuring out how she could storm the establishment known as Wollsten-cafe. Claire was surprised to see her there so early in the morning, but more than willing to let her in since she was one of their regulars, and asked if she wanted her usual.

“Yes,” Eloise replied, through gritted teeth and a forced smile. “I’ll be at the counter in just a sec.”

“I’ll get started on it,” Claire replied cheerfully, before heading back to the counter.

Meanwhile, Eloise bee-lined straight for Sasquatch.

“You,” she hissed, as she stopped right on the other side of the table, slapping her hands down on the top and glaring down at him.

Sasquatch barely even flinched. Slowly, he glanced up from his laptop, barely moving his head to look up at her over the dark rimmed spectacles resting on the bridge of his sharp nose. Eloise was surprised to realize his eyes weren’t brown like she’d initially thought but actually a very nice blue color, like aquamarines or a clear blue ocean seen in advertisements for island resorts. 

Kind too. His eyes looked kind.

“Can I help you?” he asked slowly. 

“You’re sitting at my table,” she told him, snappishly, not allowing herself to be distracted by his pretty eyes.

Dark bushy brows popped up, before Eloise watched as Sasquatch glanced around the table, then the cafe. Even shifting the top panel of his laptop down to look over it.

“I don’t see a name anywhere,” he replied. 

“This isn’t a joke,” she told him.

“I wasn’t joking,” he returned, a small smile ghosting over his lips.

“For three weeks,” Eloise held up her fingers to show him. “Three weeks, I’ve been coming here and you’ve been sitting at my table-”

“Again, I do not see your name anywhere,” he repeated calmly.

Eloise let an exasperated sigh out. “Would you let me speak?

Sasquatch smirked, motioning towards her. “Go ahead.” 

At that very moment, a fuse in Eloise’s head blew. She blinked, finding herself momentarily speechless.

“Well, I was here first,” she told him.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That you found this place first.”

“Because I’ve been coming here since I started university.”

“As have I.”

She paused and then frowned. “I would have noticed you," she retorted.

“I highly doubt that, given I never noticed you,” he returned. “And since I’ve been coming here longer-”

“How do you know that?” she snapped.

“Because you look like it,” he replied swiftly. “When did you graduate?”

“Last year,” she grounded out slowly after a short pause.

Sasquatch smiled. “Well, mine was four years ago. So, I was right. I did come here before you.” 

The fuse that had burst in her head seemed to have become a full on aneurysm now because Eloise could no longer think. Something that had never happened to her before. She was one of eight siblings and since learning how to speak had always been able to win an argument against any of them, and here she was. At a loss for words. For what felt like the first time in her life.

“You…you…” she stumbled, trying to figure out how to come back from this. “How dare–”

As she started to retort, the phone he had resting on the table in front of him began vibrating, and Sasquatch held a finger up to her. Silencing her. Only pissing her off further.

The gall. The absolute gall of this man.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he told her, leaning back in his chair as he pressed accept on the phone and brought it to his ear. “Hello? Phillip speaking.” 

Phillip. What a pretentious, stupid, annoying name.

“I’m sorry, what? What do you mean you she's not there?" Phillip asked into the phone, in stunned surprise, before frowning. "What do you mean she's not answering her phone? She's–Jen I have no idea where she could be. It's her day. And she told me she could take them. I...I just...just let me make a few calls. I'll try to figure this out...I know. I know. I'm sorry about all this Jen, I'll be there as soon as I can. Can you just take them back to my apartment and I'll meet you there?"

[volterran-wine]

What do you make of being able to suck the venom out of a person? In Twilight we see Edward drink James' venom from Bella, but does this logic follow for your worldbuilding as well. Do you think it is possible for vampires to do this at all, and if they are is there time limit cut off? For example, is this only possible within in the first 30 minutes of the transformation and not the full 3 days, etc. And once more, if this is possible how often does this happen (I imagine very little) in vampiric society and how do the Volturi feel about it?

I know this is a lot but I think you would have lovely insight and ideas about this whole debacle. <3

• — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢 & 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧?

Oh dear Anonymous, you managed to drag a long post out of my cold and uninspired self; you must have a gift.

The way I perceive venom is that it is quite a volatile and uncontrollable substance, it spreads instantly when injected into the body and it seems to travel quite quickly. It does not take a long time before a human is aware of the substance in their veins. From the way Carlisle reacts in this scenario it is safe to say there is a point of no return, meaning if the venom spreads enough it will be too late for the human. That being said;

I cannot see how venom can be sucked out of the body of a human successfully.

Venom seems like it is almost alive, it is not a docile thing that simply travels through the body. It multiplies and eats up the blood in a humans veins and replaces it with itself. A vampire would have to be exceptionally swift in order to suck enough of the venom out, and even then they would also be draining them of blood at the same time. I can only see this being successful if it happens minutes after the initial bite. 

Say Venom manages to spread to 1 litre of blood in a humans body and replaces it, with its volatile nature I would expect that happens fairly quickly. If I am going to ballpark it I’d say that a vampire would in the process of removing the venom also drain them of the same amount of blood. In theory the human has now lost 2 litre’s of blood during the process, a human only has 5 litres of blood in their body at all times. They have now lost almost half of what keeps them alive. Their life would be in serious danger, and that does not take into account the vampire in question would also have to be able to treat the wound.

Ergo;

I honestly think it would be more plausible for Bella to be turned at the end of Twilight or dying than surviving the ordeal as a human.

And furthermore, it is shown in canon that another vampires venom will have adverse effects on a vampire. So I can only imagine that the process is also excruciating for a vampire to deal with, especially if they ingest the blood/venom and do not spit it out immediately. This would also take up more time and would put the human at further risks.

Vampires removing venom from a human simply makes no sense, The Volturi is horrified when Aro divulges that Edward sucked venom out of a human.

[bug-the-chicken-nug]

watched the latest rwby episode and im gnawing at the bars of my cage wailing and screaming. i NEED more summer lore. inject that shit into my veins. everything else here is small potatoes in comparison to finally being able to get actual insight into Summer

although it is interesting to get confirmation that for Afterans, ascension is not necessarily a bad thing at all. at this point the best I can hope for with Ruby is that she sees what things were like for Summer or is able to speak with her and ultimately decides "Wrow! This Is Not Worth It!" and peaces outta there, because that would be like. The Least Bad direction left to take when you apply this all to non-Afterans.

anything else would essentially imply that Ruby was *correct* to drink the tea, and so were the motives she had for doing so in the first place.

[grapesodadarkchocolate]

September 15, 2023

“The truth is that though we think we know what we are about to say, the story tells us and saves us, in the same mysterious way that breathing is always the same but different.” —Mark Nepo

Dearest Richard,

“You keep me honest,” a thought that came forward as I was walking in the drippy rain this morning. In the quiet. Seeing how a gentle rain can pull everything more into itself. No bright sunshine or cawing crows. The drip drop of rain as it patters and dips off of the leaves overhead landing on my outstretched umbrella. A loon pair on the water taking turns diving for grub. Out of sight yet still close by. Just temporally out of view. So in those moments, being present in the still and subdued surroundings, new insights often arise.

You inject a clarity with less rhetoric in to my everyday living. Realizing now that what has been my understanding of my present truth may be only partly true. Components have often gone missing. You have asked me to dig deeper. To mine for what authentically connects. If it is about the ever present love story, the one between you and my mom, I need to scrape off more of the marrow even though I think I am down to the bone. Making my way to this core of understanding. You do this with such patience, humbling my spirit. My gratitude expressed towards your efforts will always feel as if they have fallen short. Forever indebted—yes. Thankful—immensely. Patient—not so much. Being in this place of allowing your insights to soak into my skin and run through my veins has taken immense time and persistence on your part. 

As I listen, not so much in a form of practical and familiar conversation with you, but a listening with the whole of myself. There is a space between, where what is, is better understood. Where the “ah hah” moments arrive and more profound learning transpires. 

Continuing to look at life straight on. 

Love you more each day,

Your Niece

[sadomasochxsm]

"I used to hate going to the dentist when I was younger. But I came to appreciate their techniques more at a later age. There are six frequently used injection sites dentists use for depositing anesthesia that tend to be the most painful- Local infiltration being less painful, all the way up to palatal injections. Obviously that region is very dense and tightly bound to the underlying bone. There's only a limited amount of space for the injection to diffuse to, so the higher the injection pressure, the more pain. When I had my upper teeth removed, I noticed that maxillary incisor infiltrations were enough to squeeze an involuntary tear or two out of my eyes, so let's start there-" he explains, taking a firm hold of Kakihara's upper lip.

Jae inserts a long, thin syringe into the loose, soft tissue directly above the other man's upper incisors and tugs on his mouth a bit, not stopping until it hits bone.

"It's a myth that larger needles hurt more, the smaller ones are way more likely to break inside the body."

how does a man say 'i love you' when his mouth is so...preoccupied? the only thing that jae would get outside of a mumble is a struggling tug of the man's lips - the tears in either side of his cheek, a garish insight at the fangs inside. his eyes wide and watching - pupils that follow hand and needle as if he watches not his own torture but rather a performance akin to art.

a shiver teases his spine with a tingle, the tremble of his thighs obvious in the way it's hard to sit still. with the splice of the needle that hits gum, he exhales a breath from flared nostrils - presses lids into tightness. feels the tears that the other had warned him about; craves the moisture.

it isn't enough yet to shift shibari beneath his clothes, but it does have him eager for more. the thrill of pain ( the dread of it ) - a fever that can very well make a man delirious. ( just how delirious is he? ) insane enough to have it hit the bone and feel only a thrill; that familiar squeeze of agony, the turn of his stomach - a pleasure that has him feeling drunk but then so sober ( all at once ) - an amalgamation of emotion that has him addicted; he'd be pumping heroin into his veins had he not found solace in the simpler things first.

"oh jae" he shudders, voice a drawl that wrestles with the force of the other - words a slur "you're teasing me-"

he really is - because there's no doubt, kakihara wants more; whether that be another needle in his gum or teeth pulled, even the simple idea of more-to-come has him shivering with excitement. what a fun day - !

[quercus-queer]

You cannot imagine the serotonin im receiving from the anonymous comments from classmates on my essay I did the night before it was due

[siremasterlawrence]

A Pig By Any Other Name

Part 1 - 3

Officer Thomkins has been a busy asswipe always on the hunt for a dominant partner.

All over the new app Spiral meeting one or more doms over a period of weeks on end.

He never has time for one person then he took today off to speak and see what comes.

Of course I am not really in the mood today when he messages me in typical stupidity.

Cracking a joke he says “hey pumpkin” I roll my eyes pretending to crack a glass on his head.

We agree for him to arrive at my place with all assigned items including a needle behind me.

He knocks on the door with very little insight except pitch black darkness and enters.

His ass closes the door so I grab his neck and inject the serum in to his system.

I kick the gurney towards him as his body

hit in time, I use all my strength to drag him fully on to it.

One last piece to my puzzle reaching for the bed straps and I tie him down.

Shove him on to the elevator, press few of the buttons and we descend in to oddly place room.

Yes it is like the whole Willy Wonka elevator shit one weird journey to my lab when the doors open.

I push him in to the middle of the room flick on a switch as the room swirls on around us.

The lights blow up in yellow glow as he woke up to see me, he struggles a bit trying to place it together.

“Medical fetish? Oh God! Yyyeeesss” he howls loudly.

Part 4 - 6

“Welcome to my Hospital” I state raising my arms to length and spinning showing off.

“Fucking pig” I state in a low audible sound the proceed to him.

“What’s next?“ he asks eagerly with a smile.

“So much, you have to wait and see.” I say in a sly effort injecting him again.

“Can you check to see if the lights are to bright? Just look up.” I point upward as the lights shift in multicolors.

“Everything is….is…..is” he attempts to say in vein.

“Everything is fine.” I finish for him cupping his chin and mouthing it out for him.

“Don’t bother your mind is now nothing more then malleable clay.” I state.

I kiss him on the cheek then slap him hard as to say this is mine.

I turn my back to him opening a draw and to grab a pair of scissors, I clip them in the air and then get to work.

Taking his shirt in my hand I begin to cut up diagonally ripping his shirt to shreds.

His police officer uniform comes undone at my feet till it lays torn on my floor.

All that’s lefts is man so use to being in any shape and form of power.

All that that is left is him naked on the table in all his splendor.

I lick my lips watching his body as I spray tan his body, clicking a button above a sonic ray is on him.

Part 7 - 9

“Fuck you! You piece of shit.” I whisper.

“Who is the main man here?” I continue

“Who is the Master?” I push him.

“I am your lord and Master”

“Speak pig!” I laugh in between my words.

“OINK!” He squeals loudly.

“Louder pig.” I yell.

“Ooooooiiiiiiiinnnnnnlkkkkkkkkk” he screams

“Mwahahahahaha” the laughter reverberate in to my walls.

“Good boi.” I make one last compliment.

“Sir Yes Sir”

“You can stand up now.”

“Kneel at my feet”

“Mwahahahahaha”

“This is only the beginning.”

The end

[k-ky]

do you have any fave f1 books you would recommend ? :)

F1 Mavericks by Pete Bird and Geroge Levy. Wonderful pictures and nice succinct summary of important moments in F1 history. Goes way back to the 60s

How to Build a Car by Adrian Newey. Great valuable insight to the workings of a F1 car. Some of his personal opinion rubs me the wrong way bc....well.... hes a boomer and wh*te askdjhasjkd so its not vry PC BUT the bits where he talks abt the cars is super interesting. And some cool stories abt the drivers too.

Life at the Limit: Triumph and Tragedy in Formula One by Sid Watkins. Great stories. Also great insights about how safety and medical intervention has changed over the years, how certain crashes had shaped the safety of the sport to what it is today. Love this bc I work in healthcare so its a topic I'm interested in.

Senna Versus Prost by Malcolm Folley. THE ONE AND ONLY! MY PROSENNA BIBLE!!!! If you have not yet watched the Senna documentary I highly HIGHLY recommend and URGE you to read this book first!! A balanced and neutral viewpoint of the Senna vs Prost years, and it actually also does that one timeline thing were Folley document both Prost's and Senna's journey before they met, while Ayrton is climbing ranks in junior racing and dreaming of big things in F1, Alain is grappling with death constantly breathing down his neck, people he knew and loved dying, and also being brutalised in the politics of the sport. This provides amazing context for the psychology of both men later on during the McLaren years and yes Alain lives in Ayrton's mind rent free its so funny and sad at the same time. Please please please read this book its so good i inject this shit directly into my veins. When you watch the Senna documentary after, the "Prost is the evil mastermind and is obsessed with antagonising Senna" narrative becomes quite laughable akdjfhasjf.

Lights Out, Full Throttle: The Good the Bad and the Bernie of Formula One by Damon Hill and Johnny Herbert. A lighthearted and funny read, great delightful banter between Damon and Johnny. It feels like you relaxing at a pub with your best friends laughing and joking around. Fun little stories and shenanigans about F1 icons throughout the years that really humanises the drivers and make them feel like people like you and me with their own little quirks.

Thats all so far! There are more great books out there but I have yet to read it yet! Especially Alain Prost's autobiography Maitre De Mon Destin (Master of my Own Destiny) but its in french dasfkashdf please release an english translation im incompetent in french im begging adfjkadhf

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: Kevin Tran For President by glovered

fandom: Supernatural

pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester

word count: 11k

Is it explicit: no

Bottom line: what if the S8 opener was a coffeeshop au

I don’t think we as a fandom (spn generally, and samdean specifically) are really built for coffeeshop AUs but goddamn does glovered deliver. It’s mostly down to the ensemble cast—Castiel and Meg don’t have a ton of scenes but what lines they have are high-impact, and then there’s Kevin. Kevin has 1) the worst case of imposter syndrome an Asian-American overachiever has ever come down with and 2) a mega-crush on Sam. Dean is fresh out of Purgatory and here to help. It’s not toothrotting fluff but it’s not not toothrotting fluff iykwim.

This fic was like a pump of caramel syrup injected directly into my veins. I wouldn’t want, like, five pumps of it in a single latte, but the S8 rift between Dean and Sam really hurt me and this story was a balm. On a basic canon-divergent plot level Sam didn’t quit hunting and therefore Dean, when he returns, doesn’t take Sam’s rejection of the lifestyle as a rejection of Dean. On a meta level it eases my heart to see that the Winchesters are not radioactive to absolutely everyone they care about: Kevin’s most pressing concern right now? Passing macroeconomics. Castiel is not, thank fuck, auditioning to be the next Winter Soldier. Meg and her smart mouth are the light of my life.

Sam is a barista because Kevin is attending Princeton, and Kevin is Sam’s responsibility. Sam isn’t carrying around all this baggage of “I hung Kevin out to dry—yet another way I let Dean down, ugh,” and that allows Dean to come at being in love with Sam circuitously rather than devouringly (the way he does in canon). Dean comes at being in love with Sam through Kevin’s attraction to Sam:

”Does he seem..." Dean looks back to his paper. "No, you know what? Never mind." He's reading about some football game he didn't used to care about, when Kevin speaks up. ”No." ”Huh?" ”No, he doesn't seem." ”Really?" ”Really." Kevin screws up his mouth, watching Sam, too. "Of course not. He was worried sick."

In fact we learn that Sam went slightly berserker. I think “I went at the remaining Leviathans with the machete you gave me for my twenty-third birthday” is just as believable a reaction to losing Dean as “I quit hunting cold-turkey and clung to my grief like a liferaft.” I mean, just because it’s fluff doesn’t mean it’s weak on characterization:

”You didn't even tell anyone you had a brother," Dean says. The thought comes out of nowhere. Sam stills and then finally lies down again, but he rolls into Dean's side a second later so his face is close, breathing Dean's breath. "I couldn't even talk for three months. Let alone talk about you."

Dean is just so nakedly relieved to have his brother back:

Sam follows close behind him down the stairs and falls into step once they're on the street. They don't talk because talking before five in the morning has never been their thing, but Dean does look over once, three times, when they're not under streetlights, and Sam catches him at it. There's a lot of eye rolling, and it makes everything in Dean hurt that hurt of hope, of being alive and back and wondering where they're going to go now. He knows if Sam doesn't want to go he's going to have to stay here, learn to deal. They'll be together either way, no matter what.

Looking at S8 through the soft-focus filter of a coffeeshop au makes me wonder how much of Dean’s disappointment in Sam is disapproval he’s left the life, and how much is anxiety that he left (will leave) Dean. Dean’s never been able to separate his self-self and his hunter-self. He also—hilariously and very much in-character—has this pathological drive to ensure Sam’s physical safety that is in no way equalled by insight into the inside of Sam’s noggin. What I mean is: Dean thinks Sam wants to settle down in suburban New Jersey, when actually Sam gave his two weeks’ notice the minute Dean reappeared. Dean thinks Sam doesn’t know how Dean feels about him, when actually Sam probably knew before Dean did. Dean is an idiot.

This is Dean being blindingly jealous of some girl Sam casually dated at some point:

Kevin glares at the girl as she passes with a free drink. "She seems great and all. I just...don't like her."

Dean remembers that Kevin's the victim here. He feels a sudden, uncanny sort of compassion for him. Imagine being in love with a dude, only to watch him fall for some caffeine junky.

”You and me both," he says, and watches Sam go about his business like nothing out of the ordinary just happened. "Kevin, I got your back."

We all know Dean Winchester is the king of repression and denial but glovered’s light touch here is just. Everything.

They go on a vision-quest in the desert:

"Chill," Sam tells him, stopping to examine another plaque-style map on a wall.

”Don't tell me to chill, I spend months navigating the stump swamps of Purgatory to come back here and get lost in a—" Sam turns and puts a hand over his mouth.

”What's a stump swamp?" Meg asks.

”It's a swamp with many stumps," Cas tells her.

”I’m not dismissing your PTSD," Sam tells Dean in low tones, and doesn't let his hand up when Dean tries to deny it. "But I'm letting you know that you're overreacting."

”Mmph."

”Okay?" Sam asks.

Dean licks Sam's palm, but Sam remains unmoved.

”Cute," Meg says. "Are you going to give him a kiss or—?"

Lmfaoo

Did I mention that Kevin’s ex-girlfriend is alive and well and not attending her safety school??

”She broke up with me," Kevin says. "After the whole, you know. Kidnapping and mental break and stuff. She went to Stanford, anyway. But yeah, it bugged her sometimes."

”But you were into her?"

Kevin shrugs.

Dean's aware he's being a dick. He's just trying to figure out if the kid knows he's gay for Sam. "Probably wasn't First Lady material, anyway."

And like. Kevin’s ex not being dead or possessed, Kevin’s mom likewise being alive and not-possessed—it opens the door for Kevin to want things for himself beyond bare survival. The throughline of this fic is Kevin’s dream deferred to be president of the United States. Kevin thinks he got into Princeton because Dick Roman pulled some strings for him. Team Free Will has to hack into his admissions records to prove that this is not the case. I’m…not crazy about the meritocracy-is-not-fundamentally-broken assumptions embedded in this maneuver, but as a storytelling choice it’s A+

”I know how you feel about him," Kevin says, and actually has the balls to look sympathetic, like it's anything Dean regrets.

Dean glances at Meg and Cas, but they're having some random conversation, so he looks back to Kevin. Kevin leans back under the force of Dean's frown, but still says, "I mean, I guess with the way you two grew up, it makes sense. And I get it, believe me, I do."

”You know what," Dean sneers. "It's cute you have a crush on my brother. But you're already a prophet. If you want to be president, you can't be a prophet and gay. You have to choose one."

”It's probably true," Meg says.

”Only historically," Cas tells him.

Sam, who seems to selectively notice when Dean calls people out, shouts over, "Don't listen to him, Kevin. You can be whatever you want."

Kevin freezes. "What?"

”You can do it," Sam says, and then goes back to frothing milk to pour into a paper cup.

”I know," Kevin says quietly, getting all mouth-breathey.

”No, but, you're already a prophet," Dean tells him, just in case Kevin missed his point. "You can't have Sam, he's mine."

YOU CAN’T HAVE SAM HE’S MINE that’s it that’s the ticket

[pumpkin-stars]

Well I’m not sure if this is 500 words or more but commentary for this please

I gotta know what happened behind the scenes for you to come up with the greatest AU there is which is cottagecore!Geralt

✨ for the DVD Commentary ask game thingy: send me any passage from any of my fics and I'll give you some insight into why I wrote it the way I did ✨

May! Thank you for asking about this fic hehe (I knew you would!) under the cut because I wrote more than I expected whoops

Snippet taken from Delay

Behind the scenes is simply me vibing with the idea of being a housewife for a big strong warrior type (@yours-truly-r can attest that Geralt/Pero/Din/etc all have their own housewives in my head). That ‘tough guy only soft for one person’ trope is 👌👌👌 inject it in my veins and I will live forever.

The concept of this kind of guy going out and travelling the world, spending the little money he has to spare on unique plants/herbs? Just for his little housewife? Immaculate. And with Geralt, you know Roach is equally as caring for the little saplings. No raiders or monsters are gonna get their hands on your gifts!

A little barn and beehive… just somewhere cute and cozy for him to exist in (the goat is angry because he’s too similar to Geralt to be his friend. White hair, silent unless hungry or horny, vying for your attention whenever you’re nearby - and Geralt takes your attention from goat when he’s around and goat says 😤 to that). A little place of solace for him to come when he can, juxtaposing his usual world, his usual self, with this nice little home.

I wanted to make this feel at least a little possible within the dark and dangerous world. It’s more book!Geralt than tv/game Geralt because I’ve been reading the prequels which have a lot more Random Encounters With “Friends” than I had expected… this little ‘bubble of peace’ is quite possibly some sort of magically protected bubble - whether reader’s magic or Geralt’s is up to you.

And of course, I can’t write fluff without including at least a little bit of angst, so ‘you never know when/if he’s coming back’ is the least I could do 😈 I love trying to make things realistic, with the emotions of characters and their doubts and insecurities clear without detracting from the main plot (in this case, slow soft cozy morning sex), and Geralt’s reality is temporary softness. Not guaranteed unless he can hold out and make it back. That truth he tries to forget for a day or so until it can’t be ignored anymore…

[greyknighterotica]

I could use your opinion please...for those of your followers that have little kids, yes to COVID vaccine? I feel so ignorant and so confused on what articles to believe are accurate. I was happy to get mine, however to make that decision on a really young person feels like a huge responsibility I don't want to screw up. Normally I say yes to every vaccine possible without question. But this one feels so much more confusing. I really trust your research and opinions on this matter. Thank you truly for sharing any insight and opinions you may have. 💋

Yes to Covid vaccines for kids.

I appreciate it can be scary, but I want you to remember that you were vaccinated at a young age many times over, and your parents and grandparents were vaccinated many more times over all with "experimental" (new) vaccines.

A little segue:

A funny thing I came across is that in the 1800s a man in the US challenged the medical norms at the time. He insisted better treatment could be rendered to people with cayenne pepper, warm baths, long walks than the current established treatment in the US at the time by licensed doctors--blood letting.

That's right, blood letting, something we presume to be medieval was not only practiced by US doctors in the early 1800s, it was the standard procedure.

The funniest thing about this guy? He wasn't a doctor. His entire sense of treatment came from a non-medical perspective, and that helped him see beyond what treatment at the time could.

To be clear, medicine and statistical knowledge has advanced a great deal since then, but it's a way better story than the one you always hear about the first guy to suggest washing your hands.

Why did I take you on that four paragraph sojourn? To say that even though I throw rocks and curses at the current medical system and establishment? There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that it's better to have a vaccine than not. All of the evidence points to a single conclusion, it is better to have the vaccine than not, even in the rare case of side effects.

It can be so intimidating. First it's only a trial, then it's only older adults, then it's generally lowered, then the vaccine is available for YOUR kids what do YOU do, I get it.

But that's how every vaccine that was ever injected into you or your kids so far has worked. It's a process. Inoculation isn't perfect, it's just far, far better than disease.

In far less words like the first sentence:

Yes, the vaccine for 5-11's is basically a must if you're traveling, sooner the better, boosters for the adults too, flu shots if you're willing--that could help out a ton.

Very early next year I think Covid vaccines will be approved for six months and up. Inhale through your teeth all you want, but that's when you started getting them, too.

One more thing about the 1800s and the battle for medical knowledge?

The antivax movement didn't really start up until the mid 1900s, but before that, there were plenty of pushback on waves of health information. When Aspirin was introduced people assumed it must has caused the Spanish Flu, after all, it came from Bayer, which was a German company, and who are we fighting!?!? (The Kaiser, just about any American of the time will tell you).

Yes, a hundred years ago, people were really screaming and wailing that it was Aspirin that was killing people and not some new disease, so take your mask off!!!

And just imagine how difficult the conversations with your child would be back then, given that you, your kid and the person berating you all knew that nobody could consult a higher authority.

Frankly? I think the worst has yet to come. I don't know when or if this wave, but I said earlier that we'd decline and plateau and even I am surprised at the uptick that we experienced after.

If you're going to travel for the holidays in the US this year, get your vaccines, every single vein you can, boost it up, whole thing.

We've ALREADY had two major airlines shut down service during non-peak travel times. We're already seeing a massive spike in the US, it will be worse and underreported next week as people don't test in order to travel (it just keeps happening, country after country, holiday after holiday, a huge testing dip followed by a spike).

Vaccines, N/KN-95s (strap them around the back of your head, look it up), rapid tests after you arrive, whole thing.

And that's not to help anyone else, this time. That's all just the defensive list of measures. Frankly, there's nothing that's going to stop this wave from going around, from being a seeding event for AY.4.2, so everything I said is mere to mitigate chances and damage.

Sorry if that sounds bleak, but it's the only outcome I see available on the board. So now, we do our best to prevent damage.

Good luck.

[allofthefeelings]

So far we know BW is about systematic abuse, trauma and healing, that Scarlett finds it interesting what each director chooses to focus on with Nat and with Cate it was the vulnerability and the embarrassing, uncomfortable parts. Every interview I read seems to show that they've really, really thought about Nat as a character and what defines her and

this is a character who has had like, zero actual dedicated character growth other than to act as a foil for the leads, so maybe I might disagree with an assessment of character here or there because everyone's really just sort of filling in a lot of blanks and doing it differently

but just basic insight like 'post-cacw was the first time Natasha has ever been working truly alone without a larger organization behind her' which like, duh, but them just having thought about her enough to realize that is so huge. whatever this movie is, I'm glad Nat gets the respect of being considered in detail

Anoooooooooon I want this ask injected directly into my veins.

The truth is, in some ways it makes me furious, if I really think about it: How this movie was not at all conceptualized when Civil War was filmed, and somehow everyone there just missed how many characters' arcs end abruptly in the middle. (It's telling how much of the 2021 MCU is filling in the blanks from Civil War: how Wanda and Vision came to love each other; where Sharon went after giving Steve his shield; what happened to Bucky in Wakanda; everything that happened with Natasha.) The things you point out should be obvious to anyone putting together a narrative. But since it wasn't, I'm grateful it is now.

I am so fucking glad that, even though clearly not enough of them could control Civil War (or anything after it, for that matter), enough people still existed who could say "Hey, Natasha doesn't stop existing the second she's outside a man's focus" and more than that, who is Natasha outside their focus? And that they found answers, that- from everything we can tell- pulls together bits and pieces from Nat's seven appearances to make a patchwork that forms a complete whole.

It's canon fanfic. I can live with this.

Like you said, Natasha has always been defined in opposition to whoever the important character of the moment is, so we mostly know her as a series of absences: the ways she is not Tony, not Steve, not Clint. I've filled in so many details for myself, pulling from different places, and as I read press about this movie I have to keep reminding myself that even the things I think I know I really don't; I've made educated guesses, based on the absence, but this is the first time canon is defining Natasha wholly by her own presence.

And I agree with you; I'm surprised at the idea this is the first time Nat's working alone (didn't she have time between the Red Room and SHIELD when she was a mercenary, based on the history she shared in Avengers?), but I'm happy to sacrifice that guess for an answer, especially when they story they seem to be promoting feels so ridiculously relevant to my interests.

(I can't bring myself to believe it's a coincidence, either, that the publicized villain of her movie is a literal mimic, a human mirror, whose face they're making sure we don't know; if it's just a happy accident that this is what Natasha is fighting on her one solo outing, it's a hell of a good one.)

Kind of along the same lines, I'm not surprised this is the first press junket that's explicitly acknowledging how Natasha was objectified in her earlier appearances (it's not like they were ever subtle with that), but I am glad, because you don't bring that up when you plan to continue it, you bring it up when you're presenting a rebuttal.

It feels like in a lot of ways this entire movie is refuting the ideas that most of the audience- and, frankly, most of the writers and directors- had about Natasha, and I am so excited to see that she's finally getting a solid focus and a clear foundation. I can't wait to learn where I got her right and where I have new places to explore.

[katacombzimmerman]

The Bromance - Part 6

You tell him General! Make Prince An realise how much value he has to you just for being himself!

*Ssssssllllluuurrrrrpppp* I wish I could inject this wholesomeness into my veins.

General Xiao goes on to inform Prince An that he gave the title of Commandery prince to him because it suits Prince An more. He wanted to practice martial arts and join the military. If he’d been a prince then the emperor would never have allowed him that kind of military power. 

But, Prince An is different. He took control of the Three Judicial Offices at such a young age so having the title of Prince is essentiall another layer of protection from the other ministers and officials that might try to hurt him. So all in all being a Prince was more beneficial to Prince An.

I love that despite being portrayed as ‘less smart’ than the others General Xiao isn’t stupid either. He’s capable of such deep consideration and insight when it comes to making decisions. I’m certain he’d be a brilliant strategist on the battle field.

Heeeeeee! I’m loving these brothers, please let them both stay alive till the end of the series.