#its more akin to me petting a horse

[dundeey-art]

[lockewrites]

Sketches in the Rain

April 2022 Camp NaNoWriMo Day 1

OC x Arthur Morgan || SFW || 889 words AO3

Rose and Arthur wait out the storm in the woods, and Arthur keeps himself occupied with the scenery.

“We can wait it out in here,” Arthur said, leading his horse into the nearby woods.

Rose followed behind, her own horse following Arthur’s as it navigated over the brush and roots. They expected rain, the gray clouds had littered the sky since the morning, but the sudden deluge made it near-impossible to see just a few feet in front of them. 

Once a safe distance from the road, Arthur hitched his horse to a tree and Rose did the same, each sliding off their rides. Even under the canopy of branches and leaves, the rain snuck through every gap. Each drip into Rose’s soaked hair sent a shiver through her body. 

“I hope this shit don’t last,” Rose muttered as she wrung out the water from her braid. She looked up at Arthur approaching her, his boots squelching in the mud. “What?” she asked, her tone sharper than intended.

He let out a soft huff through his nose before grabbing his hat off his head and placing it on hers. 

Warmth filled her cheeks as she reached up to touch it.

“Can’t get a fire goin’, but…” He shrugged. “Might warm you up a bit.”

Rose blinked at him. “Thanks,” she said.

With a curt nod and something akin to a smile, he turned away from her and toward the direction of the road. It was odd seeing him without his gambler hat; he barely took it off even when in camp, but she was grateful for it, and a touch… well, ‘giddy’ wasn’t quite the right word, but she felt something silly like that. 

Arthur had taken a few steps out, standing with his hands on his hips watching the rain as though he could stop it through sheer will. Arthur was something, but Rose had little faith in his abilities to control the weather. She opted to sit on a rock that happened to be lying beside a tree; not much else to do besides sit and wait. And wait. And wait some more. 

Her companion rotated between pacing, petting the horses, trying his luck with giving the rain the stink-eye, and sighing in impatience. Rose didn’t offer much in the way of small talk; neither of them did. She didn’t care for it, and she figured Arthur didn’t either. Content with just listening to the rain and the sound of Arthur’s boots in the mud, Rose leaned back and let her chin fall against her sternum. The brim of Arthur’s hat obscured her view, so she simply closed her eyes and let the scent of wet dirt and rain and its soft serenade lull her to sleep. 

She heard a light scraping sound, but it was the lack of the sound of Arthur’s restlessness that woke her. She had no idea how long she’d slept. Panic gripped her moment until she looked up. Arthur was sat across from her, leaning against his own tree with his head buried in his notebook, his hand furiously scribbling away. 

He stopped, and she quickly dropped her head back down, appearing to still be asleep; she’d seen him write in that notebook often, though never saw what exactly he filled it with. Arthur would always stop to mark a particularly interesting spot or odd formation or building; Rose hadn’t any idea what was so interesting about the woods, but it didn’t hurt to give him the silence and privacy to finish up whatever he was writing. 

It was almost amusing, listening to the dragging of his pen stop for a few moments before frantically beginning again, only to stop some minutes later. The pattern continued for a while, and Rose was close to falling back to sleep until she heard his pen stop entirely. She waited a bit, expecting him to continue again, but he didn’t. 

Lifting her head, she saw him staring intently at the page. As if feeling her eyes on him, he glanced up and quickly closed his notebook.

“You find something worth writin’ about?” Rose asked.

A faint blush covered his rough cheeks and disappeared into his stubble. “Just passin’ time,” he grunted as he pushed himself up to his feet. 

“Rain’s stopped,” Rose remarked. “Could’a woke me up.”

“Figured you needed a rest if you managed to pass out on a rock,” he replied. “But since you’re up…” He held his hand out to her.

She took it, his hand strong and calloused against hers. He pulled her up effortlessly and she offered a short nod of thanks. They untied their horses and headed back toward the road. The ground was still soaked, and the air still smelled of a fresh storm, but the sun was bright, catching on the moisture in the sky and creating a rainbow in front of them. 

“So,” Rose began, looking over at Arthur, “what was it that you were writin’?”

“Nothin’,” he said. “Was drawin’.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then what were you drawin’?”

“The scenery.” He smirked.

“Trees. You drew trees.” Rose shook her head. “Gettin’ more’n two words outta you sometimes is like pullin’ teeth.”

“That hat fits you real good,” he said. “There you go.” He counted on his fingers. “Six words right there.”

Her eyes rolled again as her face warmed. “Right. Thanks.”

He chuckled, and they continued on down the road toward camp. 

[oreana-galena]

Hello! I saw the teenager demi post and thought it was very adorable. Do you have any more ideas for that also?

(sorry about english) ❤️

Oh, your English is just fine, my dear. <3 I do plan on actually writing teen Demiurge in the next chapter of In Another Life, We Could Have Been Lovers, but that of course will be in a fantasy setting and change his situation drastically to current world teen Demi. C:

I'll be happy to add more thoughts to current world Demiurge headcanons if you like? I can even do another post about him being what's considered a 'teen' in the game Yggdrasil if you wanted? You only need to let me know~.

Demiurge is a collector of horse figurines since he cannot barrel race anymore. They decorate a good bit of his desk and dresser.

Since he has the farmland for it, he can and does enjoy the idea of camping around his farm animals or spending the night with them in the barn when its a really stormy night. Goats hate storms, so he wants to make sure they're okay.

If the MC doesn't mind the idea of camping with him, he will take her up through the woodlands about his house and set down to camp with her. He will bring all the stuff he's grown from his garden to make meals they both can enjoy.

Demiurge is a very true outdoors type. He's used to bathing in the river and ponds that are about his house. Naturally, he'll only do this if he's feeling adventurous and too far away from the house to get back for a true shower.

I am certain if the MC woke up and saw him bathing in the stream, it would certainly be quite the sight.

He is very touch starved. He was given hugs and kisses at a young age of course, but as he got older, his mother never had time for them anymore as she worked herself so hard. He finds himself looking more for a woman's touch, approval and admiration as that's what he's used to and finding father figures in his peers (people he works under or admires).

Whenever he's thinking, he tends to rub his index and thumb finger together. It's become a tick of his to notice when he's in deep thought.

Taking a few old wires and parts from tractors and other items about the farm, Demiurge can craft anything. He no doubt has crafted a wire rose for the MC to show how he feels.

If she likes it, he may even craft rings for her to wear.

He is big on cuddling. He loves to cuddle with his pets (as I am sure he has a herding dog and a cat possibly), but loves even more to cuddle with the MC.

The way he cuddles is in a protective manner. If the MC tries to move out of his touch when he's just wanting to keep her there, he'll playfully fight to keep her in his embrace. He doesn't want anything or anybody to take the MC away from him. He feels he has lost enough in his life and doesn't need to lose more.

Demiurge doesn't particularly like the shape of his nose or his glasses he has to wear. However, the moment the MC says both are charming, he stops thinking so negatively about it.

When the MC comes into his life, she becomes his muse. She could say a single ideas, and he would easily go off and craft an entire story around it just to make her happy.

Demiurge, in his mid to later teens, helps with the animal birthing about the farm.

When it comes to celebrations, he's the one that plans the dinners and makes everything in advance so his mother doesn't have to work too hard when she gets home from work.

His favorite way to greet the MC is by holding her hands together and kissing the back of them before kissing her left cheek. It's almost become an unspoken greeting akin to a handshake.

All of Demiurge's old drawings he thought were thrown away by his mother, but she kept them in a safe box in her room.

If it is ever too hot outside, Demiurge doesn't bother with an undershirt and only wears overalls and tight, black underwear with boots.

He does have a cowboy hat, but he rarely wears it—unless the MC requests he do so.

With the MC, he would no doubt find that one song that reminds him of her and play it ever so often just to watch her smile.

He wants to marry her one day, even if waiting to do so is killing him.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Feral Fatality

(Part 3)

Last update for now! I hit a wall and so...I need to shift direction, make way for my requests (up til now I merely wrote one word) so gonna forget this one for the time being and push this deep under every article I have in the works—

Anyways, some fluff before I disappear *insert peace out and fade meme*

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing extreme, a little blood only.

—

The masked killer gave you one shook of his head before he took off.

Saving you... for last?

Why weren't you afraid? Hell, you are going insane.

You looked down at the corpse under you. Time to clean up the mess, no one would want a rotting bitch on their doorstep.

Standing up, you decided to drag the body into the woods, maybe an animal would be happy to eat her flesh.

Huh, you were taking everything so well.

-

After you left her body a good distance away from your cabin, you went back to wash up, the red liquid on your skin was beginning to itch. You took off your clothing, the blood on your them was hopefully still removable, you wouldn't want to throw them away if you can help it.

Your thoughts strayed to that of earlier. You killed someone. You killed Betty.

And it felt good. Euphoric, even.

You never thought you could end someone's life, one of many that wanted you dead too.

"It was self-defense..." you assured. They intended to kill you anyway, the food they served for you was possibly poisoned. Even a fool would notice how suspicious they acted.

Not to mention Eloiza declared it straight to my face.

Then again, she would still die with the murderer out for her blood, it's just that I ended her myself.

Everyone's probably dead by now.

You stared at your hands– your palms, swollen from gripping your murder weapon.

"...Jason Voorhees. I wonder if he'll kill me too..."

You trailed off as your head drooped, your previous high fading out as your limbs felt heavy. Wobbling your way to your bed, gravity did its thing and you fell on the soft sheets and blacked out, the distant ringing of screams but a mere lullaby to you.

—

The ever-rising sun warmed your slumbering form as its rays peeked through the gaps of the window, stirring you into consciousness.

You groaned, rolling away from the prickles of their heat, wanting to get more sleep from last night's events...

Last night?

You shot up, rubbing your grogginess away as the thoughts of the past evening came rushing in. You couldn't believe it. Or did you? Did you really do it?

Was it all a dream??

You brought your hand to your right cheek, the action so sudden that you smacked yourself, instantly regretting it when you felt like you've just planted your face on nails.

"God fucking—" You clenched your teeth and squeezed your eyes shut, muffling your scream. Little tears threatened to pour out so you looked up to keep them in. When the pain numbed down, you exhaled and panted hoarsely.

Well, damn me if it was a dream, that fucking hurt!

A gurgling noise.

Right, I didn't eat anything for dinner.

You sighed, time to take care of your business before anything else! You could eat a whole stallion with the way your stomach grumbled. You stood up and plodded to the cupboards where you kept your food. Unfortunately, you didn't have a horse at hand, and you doubt you could even kill such a beautiful animal, so some easy-to-open corned beef would have to do. Maybe two-three cans would sate your hunger.

Knock, knock.

"Yeah, yeah, wait a bit, I'm opening dinner... breakfast. Dinkfast or breakner? Mm." You responded nonchalantly, still lethargic from both the pain and exhaustion. You pulled on the ring of the can. And it resisted like a lil shit. Three more tries and it didn't budge. You slammed it down the table, huffing.

Easy-open my ass!

Knock, knock.

Yeah, right, the door. You moved to grab the knob and whipped it open. Your face met with a broad chest, a bluish, dark gray shirt stained with what looked like dried blood and dirt. Slowly trailing up, you froze as you met two blue orbs staring down at you from behind a hockey mask. Your jaw dropped.

The silence dragged on for who knows how long before you broke away and fumbled. Absolutely lost, you did what a totally sane person would do.

You stepped aside and invited him in.

"I, uh, come in then, Mr...Voorhees." You uttered, your eyes unblinking as you looked anywhere than at the killer who took careful steps into the cabin.

——

Jason trudged to the cabin you resided few hours after he finished cleaning up the mess. Ten meters away and muffled words followed by a silent scream reached his ears. Five large strides and he was at your doorstep, coming to a halt and contemplating on barging in and scaring you even more, or knocking.

Knocking seems to be the calmer option, although he was concerned if you were hurt again. He doesn't know why he's feeling such...emotions towards you, technically a trespasser but different...

A minute passed before he knocked, twice. You answered something about eating and made-up words. He knocked again after he heard you slam something down and huff. Before he knew it you opened your door and stared. You were a lot shorter up close, craning your neck up to meet him.

You looked at each other for a while, before you moved out of the way to let him in. Even going as far as calling him Mr. Voorhees, which baffled him. So you knew who he was. If so, why didn't you leave or scream at him? That and a bunch of questions ran around his head.

He needs answers.

——

You stood to his left, facing his side as you felt awkward. You were in a room with a mass murderer, a legend. What's more, you were the one who let him in. You pinched the sleeve of your navy blue jacket from behind as you rocked on your feet. Was he here to end your life? No, no wait, if he wanted that he could have done it when you were asleep. You're pretty sure he could break down the door and crush you with it and you would never wake up again. Same as just now but he...he knocked? What will you even do if he decides to carry out the task now? You were, by no means, fit to fight back. You can't even open a fucking easy-open can! He could snap you like a twig any second now.

You waited, resigning to your fate and wishing you were reincarnated as a rock in your next life.

"..."

Well, nothing happened. He just stood there, unmoving as he faced the opposite wall.

A grumble and he whipped his head to you, making you flinch. Curse your stomach for being such a whiny shit. But you couldn't resist your hunger anymore, you need to eat. Moving a step at a time around him, you took hold of the can and pulled, swearing when it didn't budge. You were gonna die at this rate, if not by the killer behind you then by fucking starvation.

You felt a finger poke your shoulder, not even a flinch as you were too frustrated to care at the moment. You turned around to face the man, he was looking at the can you were holding.

"Oh, uh, I haven't eaten anything? The damn can just won't let me have what's inside." Since when did you talk this much?

He gestured, his gloved palm exposed, as if waiting for you to give him the can.

You placed it in his hand. With one tug, ONE TUG, of his finger it opened. It looked like he just touched it and the lid gave away. You huffed in disbelief as he handed it over to you with two fingers. You grabbed a spoon from the drawer and started wolfing down the contents. If you were gonna die might as well be full.

When it was empty, you glanced at the other can on the table, untouched. You looked back and forth a couple of times between the man and at it. You guessed he understood since he silently picked up the can and opened it for you. The corned beef ended in your stomach seconds later.

You set the last can down, only to pick them all up and dumped them inside a garbage bag you set up yesterday. Grabbing your tumbler from beside the sink, you took large sips from it.

Wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie, you walked past him and went to sit on the bed. He followed you. You stared at the one who murdered everybody else, standing in the middle of the cabin.

"..."

"So...Am I supposed to die now?" you asked. You sneaked a glance at the machete in his holster.

He didn't give you any response, but he stepped closer until he was in front of you. You didn't look up.

The man raised his hand, and you shut your eyes, expecting the worst— only hoping it was painless and quick.

You almost jerked when you felt his hand on your head.

But what surprised you was how gentle it was, no pressure at all, not even close to a killing move. Then you realized...

He's...he's patting my head.

His hand...wasn't cold nor warm, but the way he did it was akin to petting a little animal; stroking the top of your head so softly you sniffled. This made him stop and step away from you, his hands waving— hovering around you it was practically comical.

"N-No, I'm alright," you answered his silent question. "It's just...I've never been patted like that before and I...It was nice."

You've been subjected to abuse and degradation most of your life that a gesture, one that meant no harm or malice, made you cry. You wiped away the wetness of your eyes before you looked at him.

"Thank you, Mr. Voorhees. I actually wouldn't mind if you kill me, but I guess you won't...?"

He gave you a soft grunt in reply, and you giggled.

The man patted your head once more, before he made his way out of the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.

You let out a quiet breath. Jason Voorhees simply appeared on your doorstep, helped you with your food, patted your head, and walked out without a word.

It's crazy and it wasn't a dream— if the throbbing on your cheek was any indication.

You're happy though. More than happy to be alive.

[to44y]

39 Role-Play Fantasies Every Gay Couple Should Try

By Alexander Cheves

39 Role-Play Fantasies Every Gay Couple Should Try

I snuck into the bedroom on all fours. I was tired. It had been a long day. My boyfriend at the time was sleeping on the bed. I started sniffing his neck until a sleepy grin formed on his face. When I knew he was awake, I licked him — a long, sloppy, wet lick up his cheek — then ran to the living room. 

I heard him behind me. “Where are you going, puppy?” I was being bad. I was on all fours, shaking my ass on the sofa in his direction. He pulled out his dick and said, “Here boy.” 

This is role play. Specifically, this is “puppy play” — a form of role play I love the most. Role play can be spontaneous or pre-planned, and as elaborate as you make it. At its simplest, role play happens when two adults consensually engage in an eroticized pretend game, a shared sex fantasy. And it is not limited to two adults — group role play offers some of the hottest sex experiences imaginable.  

Everything in the world can inspire role play. You could do sofa role play and have someone sit on you. The most iconic gay role play scenarios have been done and redone endlessly by gay porn companies because they work — “Daddy and Son” will never get old — but that does not mean you can’t try them out for yourself. Try these 39 role play scenarios for the adventurous gay couple. Use your imagination! 

A Word of Warning From Writer Alexander Cheves

My name is Alexander Cheves, and I am known by friends in the kink and leather community as Beastly. I am a sex-positive writer and blogger. The views in this slideshow do not reflect those of The Advocate and are based solely off of my own experiences. Like everything I write, the intent of this piece is to break down the stigmas surrounding the sex lives of gay men.

Those who are sensitive to frank discussions about sex are invited to click elsewhere, but consider this: If you are outraged by content that address sex openly and honestly, I invite you to examine this outrage and ask yourself whether it should instead be directed at those who oppress us by policing our sexuality.

For all others, enjoy the slideshow. And feel free to leave your own suggestions of sex and dating topics in the comments.

Hungry for more? Follow me on Twitter @BadAlexCheves and visit my blog, The Beastly Ex-Boyfriend. 

1. Construction Workers

As I write this, the house next door is being renovated. If you listened to them, you would think a gay porno was being shot outside my window. Lots of laughing and group camaraderie with one poor guy (the sub) making pained, grunting noises. He’s being paddled with what sounds like a wooden paddle wrapped in sandpaper. Just when I think the mean top is about to ease up, the sound of an electric drill starts, and the guys start laughing again. They’re playing old school country music and I imagine there’s lots of spitting. One of them literally says, “It’s a bitch.” 

Construction worker role play is a great group role play to get into if you can conjure up some buddies and orange vests — and you can even redo your kitchen in the process.

2. Sports Teammates

There seems to be more “locker room” gay porn than any other sub-genre. You know the scenario: a young freshman walks in the locker room among the beefy seniors on his football team, who have a nasty initiation ritual planned for him after practice. 

Accouterments of this play involve sports gear (a fetish all on its own), knee-high socks, gym shorts, copious amounts of sweat, and that wonderful camaraderie that forms when the group’s submissive guy gets bent over a bench press. 

3. Frat Boys

The gay porn site Fraternity X has capitalized on the fantasy of frat boy hazing. All their videos have the same basic narrative: a group of horny college guys are sitting around in a trash-strewn commons area drinking beer and watching TV when one bro starts running his mouth. Before long, his hands are tied and his mouth stuffed with someone’s underwear while everyone takes turns fucking him in a swivel chair. “Come on bro, it’s not gay if it’s with your brothers.” 

4. Brothers

When my ex-boyfriends and I visited new cities where no one knew us, we would sometimes say we were brothers. It was funny sometimes, a lark — other times, it was really sexy. At the local gay watering hole, we would tell the guys interested in us that we were related and see how many of them believed it. I’m not sure many did — especially when we got a little drunk and started making out on the dance floor — but they wanted to. Many guys have a brother fantasy. This is an easy one to role play in the bedroom, and there are endless imagined scenarios available to you: Big brother is visiting home from college and has to share your bedroom for a night. You two are close and like to wrestle, and one day the wrestling goes a little too far when one of you gets excited.

5. Strangers

Anonymous public hookups are rapidly becoming a thing of the past. Our mediated, digitalized hookup culture has all but replaced discreet staring contests in the gym and public cruising in parks and bathrooms. Many formerly cruisey places are more heavily watched now, and your success rate is inevitably lower. 

Also, some guys have some discomfort with completely anonymous sex. The risk of sexually transmitted infections is a factor — although, to be sure, someone who says they love you poses the same risk unless they’ve been rigorously tested. 

One solution to all these is to do anonymous role play with someone you know. If you want to play in public, plan to meet up somewhere that you are fairly certain will offer some privacy. If your fantasy is to anonymously pick up a stranger and take him back home, this is easier: just plan to meet somewhere (the gym, a bookstore) and watch him from across the room. Pretend you don’t know each other, and when the time is right, make that classic, subtle head nod — “Let’s get out of here.” 

6. Coach and Player

Another common gay porn scenario: the gruff, frustrated football coach tells his star quarterback to stay after practice for some additional training. For obvious reasons, this scenario works great for group role play as well. Who says the coach only has one MVP? 

7. Pup and Handler

Like many scenes in the world of kink, puppy play at its simplest is a form of role play. It falls under a broader category of role play types called “pet play.” In pet play, humans act stereotypically like different animals before and during sex. 

Like all forms of role play, puppy play is as simple or complex as you make it. Some pups — myself included — love the pup headspace and extend it past the bedroom into daily life. We do this by wearing collars, barking at/sniffing guys on the dance floor, and sitting/kneeling whenever our handlers/boyfriends say, “Sit.” 

There is an inherent power dynamic in puppy play, and many pups would say there is a Dominant/submissive relationship. Pups are automatically submissive to handlers. A good pup loves getting scratches, treats (sexual or otherwise), and led around on a leash by a handler. And while this is certainly not always the case, handlers are typically tops and pups bottoms (alpha pups being a common exception — see number 11). 

Puppy play is implicitly, if not explicitly, a sex role play, but some pups and handlers have removed the sex aspect of it and turned puppy play into a practice more akin to yoga — a de-stressing activity that frees them from the daily rigor of life. While I’m certainly not one such pup, I think that reveals something important about role play itself. There can be a therapeutic aspect to adult pretend games, if only because they remove you from your daily headspace and allow you to be imaginative. We know the positive effects that playing has on children, but few cultures have spaces for adults to do the same. 

8. Kitty and Cat Owner

This is like puppy play, but the submissive guy acts like a cat. This features of this role play are endless: rubber or latex cat suits, tail plugs, and felt mice dangling on a string. 

9. Pony and Rider

Pony play follows the same basic form as the other pet play types. Human ponies love neighing, wearing bits in their mouths (ones designed specifically for human pony play, as actual metal bits will break teeth), and being taken for a ride. The rubber, latex, and leather gear for pony play gets pretty elaborate and very costly, but I know some guys who have an almost quasi-religious dedication to pony play and are willing to fork over the cash. If Equus and all the endless bestiality porn on the internet reveals anything, it’s that horses inspire something very carnal and sexual in us humans. 

10. Pig and Farmer

In modern gay lexicon, a “pig” is a guy who loves bareback sex and male bodily fluids (cum, piss, spit, and sometimes scat), so it should come as no surprise that pig play has evolved as a form of pet play that typically involves all these things. Say “oink” when the farmer comes around with his fisting gloves — you’re in for a wild night. 

11. Beta Pup and Alpha Pup

There is nothing more fun than pupping out with another pup, which means barking, roughhousing, wrestling, licking, and rolling around on the bed with another guy that shares the pup headspace. If you’re a beta pup (submissive), you hope to pup out with an alpha — one that gets dominant when you start sniffing his groin. 

12. Slave and Master

The range of power dynamics in the world of kink can be explained by placing them on a spectrum. On one end, you have puppy play — a mild role play with a relaxed Dom/sub dynamic (some guys say there is not a Dom/sub dynamic at all). On the opposite end, you have Master/slave. Although extreme, Master/slave is still a role play — one that typically involves hardcore BDSM, leather, rubber, extreme bondage and restraint, temporary imprisonment, and long-term domestic service (washing, cleaning, yard labor, etc.), all in service of the Dom/Master. 

13. Doctor and Patient

You’ve undoubtedly seen these scenarios in porn. The restrained male patient needs an anal exam from the rugged doctor, who is conspicuously naked beneath his white coat and stethoscope. Doctor and patient role play is enhanced by a plethora of sex toys and kink supplies that fall under the “medical fetish” umbrella — speculums, metal douching nozzles, anal probes, white latex gloves, etc. 

14. Soldier and Drill Sergeant

This is a clear Dom/sub role play where the sergeant barks orders and the sub — I mean, the soldier — obeys. When sergeant tells you to drop down and lick his boots, you better drop down and lick his boots, private. Atten-shun! 

15. Ransom Victim and Kidnapper

Ransom/kidnap scenes typically involve a lot of bondage and duct tape. The full parameters of the play should be discussed before starting. Some guys might think the idea of being kidnapped and tied up is hot, but after three hours in a closet with duct tape over your mouth, you might feel differently. In the pre-play negotiation talks, you should set clear limits and boundaries. This role play is one that can be taken to extreme lengths — some guys love getting abducted from a public place and thrown in the back of a car — so you should only play with someone you know and trust (not a stranger or someone you met online). 

16. Daddy and Son

Many tops like being called “daddy” in the throes of sex, but daddy/son role play scenarios go a bit further. There is a lot of written and video daddy/son porn online, so explore the internet for ideas, because the scenarios are endless: Daddy sneaks into his son’s room at night while mommy is sleeping. Son comes home from college one day and catches his dad in the shower and decides to join. Son sneaks into his dad’s room one night to see his dad jerking off. Son forgets to clean his room and daddy decides it’s time for a spanking. Daddy and son are washing daddy’s car and they both get soaked and have to strip off their wet clothes. The fantasies are unlimited! 

17. Merman and Fisherman

Don’t lie, you’ve fantasized about walking down the beach and coming across a poor mer-boy washed ashore who needs help getting back out to sea. He will do whatever it takes. You might need to carry him. But first…. 

Aretwork courtesy of Fred Lammers. See more of his work here.

18. Baby and Parent

Baby role play commonly overlaps with diaper fetish and sometimes scat (feces) fetish. An adult baby will crawl around, cry, and eventually need someone to change his diaper.

19. Intern and CEO

For all its wincing misrepresentation of BDSM relationships, Fifty Shades of Grey touched upon a longstanding role play with a clear Dom/sub dynamic — low-level intern and executive CEO. Business tycoon and office boy. “Cancel my 3:30 meeting and crawl under my desk, boy.” 

20. Porn Star and Director

This one works great if you and your boyfriend like to film yourselves having sex. Strip for the camera as he directs you. He may eventually decide that this shoot really needs a second man, at which point he’ll begrudgingly have to step in as an actor/director. This role play obviously lends itself to groups, especially if you like to watch and direct others and be in control. 

21. Santa and Naughty Child

Christmas role play! When Santa finds out how bad you’ve been this year, he’ll have something more than coal to fill your stocking with. While a santa hat and some black leather boots should get you started, a hefty amount of playfulness and creativity is all you need to get on the naughty list this year. 

22. Cousins

This is like “brothers” role play, but considerably easier to accomplish if you do not, in fact, look anything like your boyfriend. Some guys are wigged out by immediate-family incest scenarios, but cousins? No problem. It’s perfectly acceptable to disappear off to the basement or woods during family reunions for some quality time, right?

23. Batman and Robin

The dynamic duo has been the source of superhero role play for much of the caped crusader’s long career. Their whole setup is kind of obvious, and pretty gay in itself: a wealthy older bachelor takes in a poor young house boy just to fight crime (in spandex and black rubber) every night? Please. 

See more of Philip Bonneau’s great photography here.

 

24. Batman and Superman

This power couple has inspired a plethora of gay fantasies (who’s the top? who’s the bottom?) and if you’re into cosplay, this role play is an easy one to get into. Unsurprisingly, a gay porn parody of the recent Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice movie just hit shelves.

25. Uncle and Nephew

There’s a lot of gay porn modeled after the proverbial “gay uncle” that comes by the house and messes around with his in-the-closet teenage nephew. As you can see, anyone into incest fantasies has unlimited role play options to choose from.

26. Married Couple

This is only role play if you are not, in fact, married. Everything under the sun — including the sun — can be fetishized and inspire eroticism, especially a married couple (as opposed to boyfriends or simply two gay men who play together). This milder role play involves acting like a married couple before or after sex. If you’re non-monogamous, go out and introduce each other as your husbands the next time you’re in a new city, and interested guys will flock to you. Many guys, myself included, love being the third (or forth, or fifth) for a married couple.

27. Pirate and Cabin Boy

All hands on deck! This more imaginative role play goes great with costumes and props. What submissive guy has never fantasized about being the lowly cabin boy on a ship full of rough and restless pirates? The group scenarios are very sexy, and the role play necessitates a lot of rope and a gag — opt for a torn strip of cotton cloth instead of a ball gag. 

28. Teacher and Student

The handsome, bespectacled professor needs you to stay after class. You’ve been misbehaving and it’s time for a lesson in manners. If you want to paddle your student’s bum over a wooden desk, do not use an actual yardstick, because they break easily. Invest in a good wooden or rubber paddle designed for the job. 

29. Firefighter and Rescue Victim

You do not need to light your house on fire to enjoy this role play. It will simply require some creativity, and perhaps a firefighter’s costume, which you should be able to find at your nearest costume store.

30. Policeman and Criminal

“Officer, please don’t give me a speeding ticket. I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything?” 

This old-school role play scenario is not complete without a good set of handcuffs and a black police baton — or, even better, a baton dildo. Thanks to Tom of Finland’s Kake Comics, homoerotic group police scenarios will always be part of the gay canon. 

31. Warden and Inmate

There is a lot of “prison” and “psych ward” porn on the Internet that typically involves groups, handcuffs, straight jackets, cages, and intense BDSM and ass torture (one particularly intense enema porn scene comes to mind). These should give you some inspiration when it’s time to teach your unruly prisoner a lesson. 

32. Hitchhiker and Motorcyclist

This is another Tom of Finland inspiration — one that old-guard leather enthusiasts will be familiar with. Grab a pair of daisy dukes and stick your thumb out on the side of the road — your leather-clad biker boy will surely come along and take you for a ride. 

33. Priest and Sinner

The darkly kinky undertones of penitence and adulation, glory through suffering, and asking for forgiveness on one’s knees has created an massive fetish sub-genre in which religious iconography is integrated beautifully into sex play. This darker role play can get very raunchy with a priest’s robe, a rosary, robe, anal beads, a good leather flogger, a gag, and an unbridled imagination — crown of thorns not required. 

34. Rape Fantasy

Many forms of role play involve overpowering someone or being overpowered, but as soon as you add the word “rape” to any label, it pushes the descriptor into uncomfortable territory, and in the case of “rape fantasy,” intentionally so. “Rape” is a socially and politically charged word that automatically evokes something ugly and violent — as it should. While the kinky community has always embraced pushing the sexual envelope, we draw the line at consent. We stand by three tenets: play must be Safe, Sane, and Consensual.  

That last tenet, “Consensual,” is one that does the most work combating the still-heavy stigma and misunderstandings that people seem to have for kink — namely that it is a culturally condoned form of abuse and rape. While this misconception is not true, at least for not the international majority of kinky men and women, it is simply a fact that many people fantasize about non-consent scenarios. Talking about them and addressing them goes into murky territory. If you engage in “rape fantasy” role play, it must be role play — that is, it must be consensual, a carried-out fantasy, a sexual pretend game. While you and your boyfriend can pretend that your play is non-consensual, and use bondage gear and other kink supplies to enhance that idea, you should also use safe words and establish and respect limits to make sure that what your are doing is safe and healthy.

35. Interrogator and Prisoner

Interrogation typically involves some degree of bondage and BDSM. We’ve all seen hot interrogation scenes in action movies, where the hero is tied in some kind of predicament while the bad guy and his thugs question him. He always escapes at the last minute, but while he’s tied to the chair, guys into interrogation scenes are intensely aroused. This role play may seem more like a performance than a sex play, it can also get pretty intense. Some questions can strike a painful and emotional chord in someone, especially if they are hooded and blindfolded. You should discuss beforehand emotional limits as well as physical ones: What “no-tread” topics can the top/interrogator not ask?

36. Home Invasion

You’ve see it in porn: the handsome thief in a black ski mask breaks in and sees the muscular home owner sleeping in bed (with an all-too-obvious erection beneath the sheets) and decides to take what he wants. Sometimes this scenario gets flipped on its head — the home owner knows Jiu-Jitsu or something and handcuffs the thief to the bed: “You’re going to pay for this, punk.”

While it certainly nudges closer to “rape fantasy,” some guys into home invasion are not aroused by the sex aspect of it. Some guys get off on being held up or mugged, and their fantasy may simply involve someone entering their home and stealing their money. 

37. Airport Security

If you’ve ever had a fantasy of traveling to Berlin and being stopped by the German airport personnel, strip searched by seven muscular men in uniform in a sterile backroom, and rectally examined on a cold chrome table, you might be into role play scenarios involving airport security. 

38. Fantasy Characters

The idea of being fucked by a minotaur is in the upper echelon of my hottest fantasies (their pantheon includes getting fucked by an faun, getting fucked by Rocco Steele, and being stranded on a desert island with all the guys from high school and seeing who makes me his bitch first). Fantasy and its counterparts — anime, comics, video games, mythology — are playgrounds of hot role play. Carried out, they might seem pretty elaborate and require some dedication, and probably some makeup and prosthetics, but what better weekend pastime could you have? Imagine the refusal texts: “Sorry guys, Danny and I can’t come downtown tonight, he wants to role play as a satyr so I’m dressing up as an orc and fucking the shit out of him.” 

Orcs, by the way, are so hot. 

39. Daddy-Home-Early and Yard Boy

This is one of the oldest in the book. Bill comes home from work, loosens his power tie, drops his briefcase by the door, and sees the new yard boy his wife just hired through the kitchen window — young, shirtless, and bent over transplanting sod. Bill gets stirrings he never felt before, and before long he’s stroking his enormous penis in the window when the young man turns and sees him. The two have an uncomfortable five-second staring contest, then Bill calls him in — perhaps for a glass of lemonade — and the young man struts and sweats across the yard and closes the screen door behind him. 

And that, gentlemen, is how gay porn was made.

[satinwulf]

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ SANSA STARK ]. some say [ HER ] resemblance to [ AHN HEEYEON ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-SIX ] year old has been in the capital for [ TWENTY-SIX YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ ASSOCIATE ] of the [ STARK ] family: perhaps that has made them [ RESERVED ] && [ CIRCUMSPECT ] of late, when they used to be so [  WHIMSICAL ] && [ SANGUINE ]. during the daylight hours, [ SANSA ] can be found working as a [ FASHION DESIGNER & BOUTIQUE OWNER ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ THE ARCHER BY TAYLOR SWIFT ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. ( mowgli. twenty-four. cst. she/hers. )

STATISTICS.

full name:  sansa  elethea  stark.

moniker / nickname: princess,   sans.

gender && pronouns: cisfemale,      she / hers.

dob && age: december 23,   1994.     26.

zodiac sign: capricorn.

ethnicity: korean.

sexual orientation: bisexual.

romantic orientation: biromantic.

mafia affiliation: associate  to  the  stark  family  via  familial  ties   -   sansa  does  NOT  partake  in  anything  further  than  simply  being  known  as  a  stark.

occupational history: former  socialite  turned  fashion  designer.      current  owner  of  the  satin  wolf,      an  upscale  boutique  featuring  her  designs.

financial status: sansa  comes  from  wealth,      but  has  also  amassed  her  own  funds  through  her  business   -   albeit,      it  is  easy  to  do  so  when  you  don’t  have  to  pay  rent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: ahn  heeyeon,   ‘hani’.

height: five feet,   eight  inches.

physical build: tall  and  slim;   sansa  is  not  very  toned  nor  muscled,       her  body  is  very  much  so  smooth  lines  and  long ��limbs.

eye colour and shape:  brown,      almond.

hair colour and style: currently  strawberry  blonde,   formerly  many  different  colors,    as  sansa  expressed  herself  through  having  it  dyed  previously.       it  is  often  worn  straight  and  down  when  she  isn’t  working,      and  pulled  into  a  messy  bun  when  she  is!

usual expression: stoic.

accent and speech style: sansa  has  a  very  soft  voice,       very  saccharine  and  sweet  by  its  very  nature.        she  has  no  blatant  accent,     and  speaks  often  in  run  on  sentences.

distinguishing marks / characteristics: any scars, tattoos, piercings.

clothing style: very  street  chic  but  also  dependent  on  the  occasion   -   she  dresses  for  the  life  she  wants  to  have  and  live.

jewellery and accessories: earrings,   necklaces,   hats,   scarves   -   any  and  everything  is  on  the  table  when  it  comes  to  accessorizing  the  perfect  outfit.        sansa  never  considers  herself  fully  dressed  without  her  apple  watch,      earrings,      and  a  silver  wolf’s  head  locket  necklace.  

FAMILY:

father: eddard stark.

mother: catelyn stark,      nee  tully.

siblings, if any: robb,      arya,      bran,      rickon.

extended relations: hoster  &  minisa  tully,     edmure  tully,      brandon  stark,      lyanna  stark,      benjen  stark.

significant other(s): none,   currently.    formerly  a  fiance.

children: none.

household pet(s): a  female  merle  great  dane  named  boleyn,   “bo”  for  short.

FAVOURITES.

colour: blue.

weather: a sunny,   but  cool  fall  day.

food item:  red  velvet  cupcakes.

beverage: peach lemonade.

time of day: mid - evening.

television genre: drama.

PERSONALITY.

hobbies: painting,     baking,      reading   -   and  occasionally  writing.

pet peeves: sansa  loathes  loud  chewers,      people  who  refuse  to  put  effort  into  their  outward  appearance,      and  people  who  think  ketchup  and  ranch  go  on  everything   -   or  anything  at  all.

phobias: spiders,      rats,      snakes.

allergies: penicillin.

mbti type: enfj,    the  protagonist.

enneagram type: 4w3,      the  enthusiast.

positive traits: whimsical,      sanguine,      clever.

negative traits: reserved,      circumspect,      fretful.

morning routine: up  by  seven,      morning  walk  with  her  dog,      shower,      breakfast,    begin  work  by  nine,      sharp.

beauty routine: multi - stepped,   always  beginning  with  primers  and  concealers.        sansa  is  a  bit  of  a  makeup  enthusiast;      even  if  she’s  just  at  home  working,      she  prefers  to  have  some  level  of  it  on,      as  she  feels  it’s  yet  another  creative  and  artistic  outlet   . . .    even  if  it  is  just  for  herself.

sleeping habits: sansa  has  always  been  a  heavy,      deep  sleeper,      even  as  a  child.        she  can  fall  asleep  in  the  blink  of  an  eye,      and  be  out  for  hours  without  even  a  hint  of  discomfort.        she  used  to  be  the  person  who  was  up  all  night,      and  tended  to  sleep  all  day   -   now  she’s  asleep  by  8:30pm  most  nights  and  up  by  7:00am.

living space && home: a  high  rise  loft  apartment,      kept  impeccably  clean  and  decorated  in  a  modern  contemporary  style,      with  many  hues  of  gray  and  light  pastels.

all  the  king’s  horses  and  all  the  king’s  men  couldn’t  put  me  together  again,      ‘cause  all  of  my  enemies  started  out  friends.

sansa  attended  king’s  way  college  and  graduated  with  a  bachelor’s  degree  of  fine  arts,    having  majored  in  fashion  design.        her  graduation  present  was  the  satin  wolf,      a  boutique  of  her  own  to  showcase  her  designs.        it  is  located  in  neutral  territory,      and  operated  by  staff  hand  selected  by  sansa  herself.  

the  death  of  hoster  tully  was  a  sad  affair  for  her,      and  yet,      sansa’s  grief  was  also  met  with  a  sense  of  relief.        that  with  her  grandfather  no  longer  pulling  strings,      the  pressure  of  being  brought  into  a  life  she  did  not  want  might  wain.

it  is  her  intent  to  never  become  involved  further  than  she  is  currently  with  any  of  the  syndicates,    even  her  own  family’s.

dancing  under  lights  since  she  was  seventeen.     her  brain’s  flooded  with  ketamine,     high  from  every  party,      low  from  self - esteem;     it’s  selfish  but  she  never  sleep.       honestly,      she  needs  a  little  sympathy.

the  socialite  daughter,      beautiful  and  charming,      always  interested  in  the  next  party   -   the  next  event.        sansa  had  a  penchant  for  attention,      late  nights  spent  out  drinking  and  dancing  even  when  she  less  than  legal;      it  made  her  feel  happy,      feel  free.        it  was  a  way  to  forget  that  things  could  be  dark  and  grim   -   to  forget  that  her  parents,      her  siblings,     nearly  everyone  she  knew  was  involved  in  a  lifestyle  that  made  her  stomach  curl.       so  she  danced  and  partied,      smiled  wide  for  pictures,     found  a  boyfriend  that  enjoyed  the  same  things  she  did   -   one  who  wasn’t  interested  in  what  her  family’s  name  could  do  for  him   . . .   or  so  she  thought.        when  he  asked  her  to  marry  him,      she  cried  tears  of  joy,      and  things  were  perfect.        just  like  they  always  were  for  sansa.

until  one  night  a  few  months  ago,      when  she  and  her  fiance  were  leaving  a  club   -   drunk  and  stumbling,      clinging  to  his  arm  with  practiced  ease    . . .   when  two  rough  hands  that  weren’t  his  pulled  her  away.        into  a  darkened  alley,      where  accomplices  met  and  held  her  at  knife-point.        they  wanted  to  know  about  her  father.        her  uncles.        her  mother,     aunts,      grandfather.        stark  plans,      stark  anything   -   gravely  voices  that  wondered  how  many  pretty  pennies  they  could  get  if  they  just  took  her  off  the  streets  now.       held  her  until  they  paid,      and  maybe  they’d  just  kill  her  anyways.       the  rough  brick  of  the  building  at  her  back  digs  into  unmarred  skin,      leaving  it  scratched  and  red   -   prick  of  a  blade  just  centimetres  away  from  the  flesh  of  her  neck,      threatening  to  cut  it  open  and  leave  her  bloody.

she  can’t  figure  out  where  he  is,      the  man  who’s  supposed  to  love  her   -   seemingly  vanished  into  thin  air  the  minute  things  had  turned  sour.        sansa  is  convinced  of  the  worst,      mascara  tears  trailing  down  her  cheeks,      because  this  must  be  it.        the  end  of  it  all.

reprieve  is  the  sight  of  one  man,     then  two,      crumpling  to  the  ground.        a  familiar  face  appearing  in  the  dimly  lit  alley  as  the  knife  at  her  throat  clatters  to  the  ground  and  her  freedom  is  given.        alive  but  shaken,      sansa  hasn’t  been  the  same  since.

i  used  to  be  a  darling  starlet  like  a  centerpiece.       had  the  whole  world  wrapped  around  my  ring.      i  flew  too  closely  to  the  sun  that’s  setting  in  the  east,       and  now  i’m  melting  from  my  wings.

returning  to  a  normal  life  post  incident   -   post  trauma   -   has  been  easier  said  than  done.        now  reclusive  in  nature,      stowing  herself  away  for  days  in  her  high  rise  loft  apartment,      sightings  of  the  eldest  stark  daughter  are  said  to  be  few  and  far  between.        she  no  longer  frequents  her  own  boutique,      working  instead  from  home  and  through  various  intermediates  to  ensure  everything  is  well  controlled;      sansa  only  appears  when  it’s  absolutely  necessary,      when  business  requires  a  gentle,     steady  hand  and  cannot  be  managed  from  afar.        

custom  designs  are  still  available,     but  often  very   hard  to  come  by.        sansa  is  incredibly  selective  with  who  she’ll  meet  in  person  with,      and  thus,      only  those  who  can  guarantee  her  trust  have  been  able  to  get  them.

sansa  does,      however,      outfit  most  of  the  stark  syndicate  in  gear  that  is  both  fashionable  and  functional.        including  safety  measures   &   fabric  a  little  more  durable  than  most.        this  is  generally  the  extent  of  what  she’s  willing  to  do  for  the  syndicate,      the  idea  of  being  involved  in  violence  is  absolutely  terrifying  to  her,      especially  after  everything  she  went  through  without  even  being  more  than  a  child  of  known  members.

she  still  is  unaware  of  her  ex-fiance’s  involvement  in  the  attempted  abduction   -   if  he  was  working  along  with  the  men,      or  if  he  was  just  cowardly  enough,     uncaring  enough  to  have  let  her  be  pulled  from  his  arms.        she  hasn’t  spoken  to  him  much,      outside  of  ending  their  relationship  as  a  whole,      the  truth  isn’t  worth  the  extra  pain  it  may  cause,      or  so  she’s  convinced  herself  for  now.

wanted  connections  !!     i  may  send  some  of  these  into  the  main  after  a  bit  if  they  aren’t  filled  just  because  i’m  #needy.

judas    . . .      this  would  be  sansa’s  ex - fiance!      i  did  write  it  off  a  tweaked  and  modernized  version  of  her  relationship  with  joffrey  but  it  definitely  doesn’t  have  to  be  him.         their  relationship  was  seemingly  picture  perfect   -   and  likely  too  good  to  be  true.         they  were  frequent  party  and  club  attendees  together,      and  truly,      was  based  off  of  the  fact  that  being  together  was  akin  to  the  high  that  came  with  endless  drinks  and  fun.        ideally,      he  would  have  just  been  using  sansa  to  hopefully  siphon  information  or  even  to  gain  an  in  to  the  stark  family   -   the  possibilities  are  endless  and  i’m  ??   here  for  them?       sansa  romanticized  the  fuck  out  of  him  and  their  relationship,      ignoring  any  and  all  warning  signs  until  things  went  bad  the  night  of  the  after  club  incident.        essentially  she’s  ghosted  him,      aside  from  mailing  back  his  ring  and  a  letter  telling  him  it  was,      in  very  few  words,      over.      the  finer  details  are  very  much  so  up  for  discussion  and  interpretation  so  y’know,      run  wild.

white  horse   . . .      whomever  saved  sansa  from  the  alley   -   no  gender  requirements  because  we  love  equal  opportunity  ass  kickers  in  this  house.       they  had  at  the  very  least  an  acquaintanceship  with  sansa  in  the  past  and  after  their  act  of  heroism,     sansa’s  sort  of  attached  herself  to  them  in  a  very  idealized  way?      not  necessarily  romantically  but  very  clingy,     she  doesn’t  want  to  be  a  burden  but  also  it’s  very  hard  for  her  to  not  instinctively  shift  into  thinking  of  them  as  her  protector  and  she  just  needs  and  wants  to  feel  safe   . . .   all  of  the  time.        taken  by  dacey  mormont.

pink  pony  club   . . .     sansa’s  #squad.      their  relationship(s)  may  be  slightly  strained  from  sansa  shifting  into  recluse  mode,    but  ultimately  they  would  be  the  people  she  spent  the  most  time  with  previously.      dancing,    studying,    coffee  dates,    all  of  the  close  friend  things.      bonus  points  for  friendships  from  childhood  to  now,    because  we  all  need  the  montage  of  childhood  sleepovers  to  sansa  showing  up  at  their  house  at  6:00  in  the  morning  because  she  can’t  sleep  and  she  brought  coffee,    also  do  they  have  time  to  talk  about  how  she  can’t  stop  shaking  and  she  just  needs  a  hug.

also  if  you’ve  made  it  this  far,      ‘sup  i’m  mowgli  and  i  told  myself  i  wasn’t  allowed  to  join  the  discord  until  i  finished  my  intro  because  i  have  the  attention  span  of  a  goldfish  and  it  still  took  me  all  day   ??     anyways,     i’m  gonna  be  sneaking  myself  on  in  there  soon  but  y’all  can  feel  free  to  also  just  add  me  @  mohglee#0602  ty ty <3

[paradife-loft]

some kinda belated thoughts from the rest of the first half of Two Towers...

ngl, I feel like this took me longer or at least felt like more of a slog, because I honestly just... don’t enjoy Gandalf very much. like - people not explaining what, much less why they’re dragging me somewhere or having me do something, is a massive pet peeve of mine. and that aspect of his operation just feels like it’s gotten turned up to eleven in this book.

there’s also how the setup for Saruman’s influence over Theoden being broken, and Grima being cast out, just doesn’t narratively... work for me. at all. I’m not sitting here emotionally irate the way I would be with a novel story, because the repeated familiarity of LotR has at least done the emotional work of establishing, yeah Grima’s a shitbag and working for Saruman. but the way in which any actual evidence of his guilt of the things he’s being accused of, is only displayed to the reader several chapters later... the actual confrontation scene relies on the reader taking the accuracy of Gandalf’s read on the situation at face value (and to a lesser extent, that of the soldiers at Edoras who refer to Grima as Wormtongue). which I don’t think is necessarily Bad Storytelling, but it feels like it’s coming from a narrative tradition where the personal character and nature of the characters gets a lot of load-bearing weight - which isn’t designed in the first place to stand up to aggressive situational nitpicking, and therefore... feels really unsatisfying when I come into contact with it and apply the usual script running in the background in my brain of, time for some aggressive situational nitpicking.

(incidentally, despite being heavy-handed and thus eyeroll-y as fuck, the way the film version introduces the characters and conflict in Rohan to us before we get Gandalf busting in like a newly-downloaded antivirus software, works a lot better for me in this regard.)

anyway, some other stuff, cut for length -

the worldbuilding in general continues to be the crunchy stuff I’m really into in this series. Helm’s Deep as the home fortress redoubt area of a specific local lord in Rohan, and the civilians protected in the caves being again, the local subjects of that particular lord, is exactly the sort of textured nuance and detail I love digging into in the Silm, that’s totally lost in the transition to the more streamlined movie narrative.

trolls are mockeries of ents in the way orcs are mockeries of elves !!

(there’s this one line in Merry’s narration of the fall of Isengard - “Their fingers, and their toes, just freeze on to rock; and they tear it up like bread-crust. It was like watching the work of great tree roots in a hundred years, all packed into a few moments.” - and I just love this, both the imagery and the sort of metaphysics happening.

...do ents photosynthesise??? or is ent-draught like, magical soylent smoothie.

I would. honestly love to get a lot more detail and lore on the Huorns. why can they cloak themselves in darkness? they’re scary as shit but also I love the uncontrollable alien-ness of them. and tbh they kind of feel akin to the overall vibe of the forest gods in Princess Mononoke. it’s good.

the exchange between Theoden and Merry & Pippin when the former comes to Isengard! so good! “Are not these the Halflings, that some among us call the Holbytlan?” // “Hobbits, if you please, lord.” // “Hobbits? Your tongue is strangely changed; but the name sounds not unfitting so. Hobbits!” -- and Theoden is also actually into the idea of Merry infodumping at him about the history of tobacco in the Shire?? and “So that is the King of Rohan!” said Pippin in an undertone. “A fine old fellow. Very polite!” -- I’m love ;u;

(ngl I feel like there’s something to be said for a certain amount of cultural kinship between the hobbits and the Rohirrim? the latter obviously having all the influences from Gondor, the more feudal sort of state organisation, etc., but at the same time, both of these peoples have a central identity around the working/shaping/stewardship of something growing and changing that exists in a partnership, as opposed to just being inert raw materials? Hobbits with their various garden species, and the Rohirrim with their horses, I mean. it’s neat.)

(I’m also just that person, bc even though I know it’s pipe-weed, it’s been established as pipe-weed in a zillion small narrative cues, I still get to the part where they’re opening up Saruman’s special personal shipment of valuable leaf material and go tea????? :DDD)

and finally, Pippin and the palantir! I think I’m still processing all the material in that chapter, but it’s definitely something I have a lot of feelings about. (one of them is “but what if Pippin and Feanorians road trip?” because. yeah.) ‘hmmmm curious valuable thing I just gotta poke at it aahhh’ is such a mood, as is his barrage of questions to Gandalf when they’re riding ahead of the rest of the group. he is a friend <3333 - and the whole, Pippin poking the palantir may well have been a net good and one of the better outcomes, because it allowed Gandalf to put together the pieces of what was up without having to poke it himself and getting massively fucked up and revealing all sorts of stuff to Sauron? (plus also providing implied misinformation to Sauron re: Saruman, having him off chasing that thread instead of focusing on what’s actually going on, etc.)

(the additional elaboration on the mechanism of the palantiri that we get - they don’t just inherently audo-dial each other, but rather the reason Pippin poking this one immediately got Sauron to pick up was because Saruman has been repeatedly “turning it toward Barad-dur”, and so that’s like its habit that would require a strong intentioned knowledgeable will to get it to do anything else right away... I’m also curious about the similarities/differences between the palantiri and the mirror of Galadriel? and what that suggests about the arts used to craft the former. gonna have to think on this one more.)

[jeanvaljean24601]

Assassin's Creed Valhalla Hands-On Preview

I guide my longship along the waterways of East Anglia, one of the regions of Assassin’s Creed Valhalla’s Anglo-Saxon map. Ahead is the shoreline of Beodericsworth, which will soon be the stage for one of this Viking-themed entry’s flagship features; raiding. With the blow of a horn, my crew begin bailing out, charging up the sands and crashing into the shields of the village’s unprepared guards. Wood splinters, blood gushes, and heads drop from shoulders. It’s exactly the kind of skirmish you’d expect from a Norseman raid. Inside, we hack apart the guard leaders defending the village’s treasures and take it for ourselves. Amongst our findings are two caskets so large it takes multiple vikings to get them open, filled with raw crafting materials. It’s a bounty that will, at the very least, get a knowing nod from Odin, if not a smile.Raiding in Assassin’s Creed Valhalla feels smaller scale than I expected, but is nonetheless good fun, and a vital part of fulfilling the Viking fantasy at the heart of the game. It’s also not the only way to pillage a Saxon settlement. The first time I approached a raiding target in a recent three-hour hands-on with Valhalla, I actually bailed out of the longship on my own, snuck around the back, and crept from guard to guard, taking them out silently. Stealthing the entire camp was overly easy due to the enemies standing perfectly still at their posts - something I hope will be upgraded with patrol paths by the time of full release - but some satisfaction remained thanks to the fact that Assassin’s Creed’s iconic hidden blade has been restored to full power once again, killing instantly with a generous splash of crimson. Preorder Assassin's Creed Valhalla Post-raiding party, I take protagonist Eivor to meet up with fellow clansman Finnr, who sets us on a course to assault Burgh Castle in Northwich, where we’ll face a rival clan. This transitions into what is effectively the boss fight version of raiding; Valhalla’s siege assaults. This one begins with a Viking variant of D-Day, with landing craft exchanged for longships and machine gun fire swapped out for volleys of flaming arrows. As the boats hit the shore and the first set of walls are blown apart, I become tangled up in the first phase of the main assault. It’s here where Valhalla’s combat really shines, despite the rough edges of the work-in-progress build. It’s an iterative upgrade of the system first introduced in Assassin’s Creed Origins, but one with enough Norse-flavoured garnish that it feels just right. Active abilities return, including one that has Eivor hurl half a dozen throwing axes into a collection of nearby enemies, and another that’s basically a charge-and-tackle manovre that lasts for as long as there’s still yards left to sprint. Such abilities can only be triggered by spending adrenaline, which is built through performing standard attacks and parries. But the moments between those super-powered blows are no less entertaining. Enemies have a stun meter, which when worn down allows you to follow up with finishers such as beating them over the head with their own shield, or swinging your axe up through their chin. Foes knocked to the floor can be leapt and stomped on as if they were a bed at a child’s slumber party. And if they refuse to fall over, they can be gleefully booted across the battlefield with the Kick of Tyr; essentially Odyssey’s Spartan Kick in all but name. In moments like these, the spirit of the berserker really starts to shine through. With the first courtyard clear of enemies, I’m able to use a battering ram to break down a timber perimeter fence and progress up to the gate. There are three phases in the assault (frustratingly without checkpointing in this preview build, meaning a full restart on death) with each introducing a new wrinkle of complexity. At the next gate, contained within a stone archway, archers fire arrows from wall-mounted ballistas and pour gallons of burning oil over the ramming crew. On the other side in the final courtyard, the castle’s hardiest occupants do their best to scupper your assault.By this point, I’m feeling fairly exhausted (I’m on my third attempt) and Eivor is feeling the burn. There’s no regenerating health in Valhalla, nor an HP boosting ability like Odyssey’s Second Wind. Instead, you have rations; effectively health potions made up of food gathered from the open world. While the grounds of the castle have a few mushrooms to nibble on, by the last phase of the assault I’ve picked both the land and my pockets dry of food, and have sustained a dent to my HP meter. In other words, I’m not well equipped for the boss battle the game then throws me into. Rued is a rival Viking armed with a longsword he can set ablaze, and is accompanied by a pet wolf. Like with many of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey’s boss fights, it’s in this battle where you can detect some potential Soulsborne influences. Eivor has a stamina meter, depleted by dealing heavy melee damage, dodging, and absorbing enemy strikes with your shield. While light attacks may come for free, in a tight boss fight arena populated by a walking mountain and a ravenous wolf, it means stamina is constantly in need of attention. The wolf is able to grab hold of my shield in its maw, opening me up to heavy cleaves from Rued while I try to wrestle my arm free. A few well-placed strikes and some throwing axes knock the wolf out of the fight, leaving just Rued and I to dance it out atop the castle wall. As the fight progresses Rued begins to throw his weapons at me, but the combination of his attack patterns and the gap between us means there isn’t enough time for me to pull out my bow and strike back at range. With the screen fading to black as my health drops to critical levels, I’m just able to dodge a blow and generate enough adrenaline to perform Dive of the Valkyries; a leap that brings both my axe and shield down on Rued in a bone-crunching slam. He’s done for. Before I can bury the hatchet in his skull, though, my hand is stayed by Oswald, an Englishman ally who we’ve saved from Rued’s clutches. He preaches of fair trials before God, and I’m offered the choice to kill or spare my enemy. h96 max tv boxI do the sensible thing and slice open Rued’s neck with an axe, much to Oswald’s distaste.A bug in the demo - something not uncommon in pre-release builds - means I have to reset the game. I continue from where I left off, but am told that in this save game Eivor has abided by Oswald’s request and spared Rued. Fair enough, I think, that’ll keep him happy for his wedding, which is Valhalla’s next quest. Very much following in Odyssey’s footsteps, Valhalla - at least in this showing - has a well-judged balance between light and dark. h96 max x3After a gloomy castle siege I’m treated to a wedding filled with fun conversations and mini-games. I’m challenged to shoot a field full of targets after downing a flagon of ale, and take part in a drinking competition in which I need to neck no less than three horns of beer and not fall over in the process. It’s a delightful time to celebrate Oswald uniting with our clan as he marries Norsewoman Valdis. At least, it is until Rued crashes the party. It appears that Valhalla has ambitions to take the RPG side Assassin’s Creed up a notch; this moment feels like the kind of narrative consequence akin to what we’d see in games like Dragon Age. Because Rued had been spared, he turns up at the wedding looking for vengeance (had he died, I’m informed I’d instead be enjoying a race around the town). But rather than my blood, it’s Oswald’s he’s here to claim. At this point I’m offered another choice; I can let Oswald fight, or I can be his champion and kill Rued on his behalf. I take the latter option, and while I cut down Rued for good this time, Oswald seems slightly disappointed in me taking his place. I wonder if, in later hours, this will have a negative effect on our relationship. I also wonder if this is not just a one off event, but a promise that Valhalla is filled with these kinds of choices and repercussions. Along with narrative choices, Valhalla also iterates on the RPG stats systems its predecessors added to the Assassin’s Creed mix. Alongside the familiar active abilities is a constellation-style map of skill upgrades that provides a variety of passive upgrades. Some improve your basic stats - higher damage, increased health - while others unlock new combat moves such as stun attacks and finishers; those additional attacks that make the combat that extra bit more flavourful. Together, all of your upgrades increase your Global Power rating, a numerical indicator as to how powerful you are that replaces standard levelling. h96 max x3Alongside the introduction of further RPG mechanics, Valhalla’s world is also significantly more traditional of the genre, too; when galloping around it on my horse, or sailing down rivers on my longboat, it was easy to mistake England for The Witcher 3’s Velen. This means, visually, Valhalla is less striking than Odyssey or Origins, with its practically Tolkien colour palette feeling less fresh than the sands of Egypt or mediteranean greenery of Greece. Yet, perhaps because I’m English, I can’t help but get a thrill out of exploring just-about-recognisable versions of my own homeland.h96 max x3It should also be noted that Valhalla embraces British folklore perhaps more than it does Norse Mythology; as I explored this small chunk of the world I came across Black Shuck, a huge black dog that’s part of classic East Anglian folklore, as well as two members of the Daughters of Lerion; Gaelic women dressed in skulls with a fondness for sacrificial rituals and the supernatural. As with Odyssey, exploring uncovers optional bosses and other fun activities, although this time it’s all a lot more goth. Assassin’s Creed Valhalla looks to be, as is the tradition of the series, an iterative update on its predecessors. If the new approach to RPG design and gear-based progression has put you off the series, this slice of the game indicates that you’ll likely be unconvinced by Valhalla’s barely altered direction. But the few changes it makes to those systems suggests developer Ubisoft Montreal may have a newfound confidence in its RPG abilities, and a willingness to embrace more of the genre’s toolset. If its branching story points are frequent occurrences, it may be that Valhalla’s real innovation comes from player agency in the narrative, rather than any mechanical revisions. Provided the game delivers on that promise, my only genuine concern is that the return of the lethal hidden blade hasn’t resulted in instantly satisfying stealth. h96 max tv boxIt currently feels underbaked due to those stationary guards, and so needs some extra challenge to make it a worthwhile alternative to the entertainingly barbaric combat encounters. Fix that, and Assassin’s Creed Valhalla might well be able to both reclaim its lineage and further its admirable RPG ambitions.Matt Purslow is IGN's UK News and Entertainment Writer.

[npcemi]

To put a dead horse to rest

This was originally a Youtube comment i made but wanted to save it as proof of my writing just in case it got around. To put this is CREEK cannon question to bed for the last god damned time. In short yes CREEK IS CANNON. This was confirmed Through the plot of several episodes and the video game, but also on the South Park Digital official south park account and on episode commentary to be cannon.  Though not how you might think. Proof below. Plus approx time line of their cannon ship

EP: TWEEKXCRAIG, The asian girls draw yaoi of Tweek and Craig. They stage of a fake break up that wreck the town.  They “Get back together” to “save/spare” the town from the sad feels. The Official SP tumblr posted a pic from this ep with #creekiscannon Though I doubt they were in a real relationship at this point.

TFBW: By the timeline of the fractured but whole.  Tweek and Craig have officially broken up. However due to some convincing they go to couples counselling and CHOOSE TO GET BACK TOGETHER by THEIR OWN FREE WILL OF CHOICE. After dealing with “Resentments”,  “Expectations”, “Accusations”, “victimization (of self which is implied)” and “withdrawal”. IE all the things normal couples may/do deal with.  As well as their character sheets listing them as cis homosexual males. There relationship is probably pretty real at this point.

EP: PUT IT DOWN( It's pretty real at this point) : A few things, but for the sake of length and relevancy I will focus the relationship part of this ep.  One the juxtaposition between HeidiXCartman and TweekXCraig is amazing. But the more relevant point in this episode. Is the arch of the relationship conflict between Tweek and Craig.

In summary Tweek is anxious because of the political tension with North Korea.  Therefore Craig trying to help, problem solves the issue.  So Tweek bakes cupcakes, believes it helps.  But The president throws gas on the fire. Therefore tweek freaks out and Craig tries to problem solve. This cycle happens a few times until Craig and Tweek Have a fight.  Where Tweek screams he doesn’t know what he needs (or what will help ) as Craig tries to problem solve again. Tweek screams at him to stop trying to problem solve and that his emotions are freaking Craig out.  Craig then yells “At least I’m in control of my emotions you baby!” “Oh god damn it see now YOU made me lose control of MY emotions” Before storming off. Now It is to note Craig is a very Flat spoken character as well emotionally, typically, at least as outliers do exist.  He is kind of known as the proverbial (pardon the pun) Straight man of the show.  Playing off the ridiculousness of the antics going on around him. Pandemic and Pandemic 2: the startling, being good primary examples.  

Losing control of your emotions when it comes to someone you care about is a very real life occurrence as well as common trope.  After their fight Craig is in the cafeteria  and his friends joke about there being “Trouble in paradise.” Cartman does cartman things. But Heidi then gives a speech about sometimes people need help sorting out their emotions and helping by letting them feel what they need to feel to get through tough times (relievant to the B storyline as well). Therefore this finally give Craig the tools necessary to help Tweek, which he runs off to do. Which leads to the resolution of the episode and one of my favorite songs. It's so damn funny just listen to it.  Throughout the episode Craig uses pet names such as Honey and Babe in reference to Tweek even when no one is around.

 Now if even this does not convince you.  In the Commentary to this episode. Their relationship is explained a bit.  Trey explains that they are glad they  made decision to keep Tweek and Craig together. While they aren’t really together in that they are just too young; but they are together and they’re “gay.”  Matt goes on to say that they are definitely  more than friends but he likes that its not front and center or that they sexual or anything.

Trey further expands  that this adds further flexibility because they can treat them like a couple and handle couple issues such as the Logical personality/communication vs the Emotional Personality/communication style.  Which funny enough is a common yaoi trope.  However They don’t always have to be treated as a singular unit but they can if needed by the story.

The breakdown of this is that yes, Tweek and Craig are together in the sense that two fourth graders are “dating.” The Idea of them being in an adult level relationship that involves the level of depth and sexuality typically seen in that type of relationship is both asinine and disgusting.   

A good reason for Them ( Trey and Matt) to make this distinction is because yaoi art is commonly very sexual. As well as to make the point  again that they are fourth graders.  There relationship in this sense is portrayed/represented realistically, positively and healthy.

So to Finally put this dead horse to rest. Yes, Tweek and Craig are in a canon relationship. However it may not be how you or the fanshipping community think about it. They are in a relationship to the extent possible by fourth graders.  They are confirmed by Creators Matt Stone and Trey Parker to be in a relationship to this extent. “That they are more than friends.”~Matt Stone  

Their feelings are akin to that of a fourth grader having a crush and it being reciprocated by the object of their affection.  Leading them to be “boyfriends.”  Thus we should not apply our adult understanding of being in a gay relationship to Tweek and Craig, nor should we use one episode ( TWEEKXCRAIG) to justify our opinion when there is a whole arch spanning several episodes and a video game. Which grow their characters to the point they have developed into a relationship that fits there ages and does not get all creepy or in your face like HEY LOOK AT THEY OUR GAY CHARACTERS THEY’RE SO SPECIAL PAY ATENTION TO OUR SHOW!  Proving that you can have gay characters without getting preachy about it or annoying.

Ep comentary: https://vimeo.com/285116228

SP Official page post : https://southparkdigital.tumblr.com/post/137031056202/im-your-tweek-and-youre-my-craig

[kurtty-drabbles]

Eros and Psyche au

N/A: I can´t lie and say this idea never crossed my mind...it has but I never had the incentive to write until now. Also, I like Raven Darkholme as Aphrodite because...I have this HC where Aphrodite isn´t a white woman...she´s every woman. Black woman, Asian woman, latina woman, a trans woman. Any woman is valid here.

@sailorstar9 @djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336

AoA Kurtty here.

Beauty is a trait many begs to receive. Wisdom, power and a good heart are secondary, you can read, you can train..but if you´re ugly then the world will have its door lock forever, look at Hephaestus, the poor God is talent but ugly as sin. Raven Darkholme does not have time for ugly.

Aphrodite, Mystique or Raven are names fitting for the deity that can be anything and anyone. Her beauty was sung with devotion until it was not and now...her temples are empty, no sweet aroma, no flowers, no sacrifices and Raven is left wondering what happened.

It can´t be a war, even in the deadliest war, people have time to worship Raven...why her temples are empty?

Raven Darkholme´s spies were sent to understand why her temples are empty, why no one is singing her name and why no one is wanting her blessing. For a moment, Raven was sure her Ex was involved in this plot, yet, her spies prove wrong, for a brief moment, Raven wishes her Ex- was involved in this.

“Repeat carefully what you just told me” Raven is rubbing her temples in her blue form and gazes at the spies “I sure must have heard wrong”

“No, my Goddess, the humans found a human so beautiful, in their words” the spies added carefully “that they believe she is superior to you”

Raven is not happy by this revelation in the slightest. Her face is hardly one to be mistaken by anything but pure fury “what´s her name?”

“Her name is….”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Katherine Anne Pryde” a male voice is shouting the name of the woman riding in the horse as his life depend on this scream. Both are in a race and Katherine is winning as the race effortless, it does provides some joy for the woman to know she's still a competent horse rider despite everything. “I won” Katherine with her short curly hair and doe eyes replied to the man, who is disappointed. To her relief the man leaves and goes the certainty that tomorrow more suitors will bang on her door.

“You save me from another one” Kitty said and give a sugar cube to the horse. She gently pets the horse named Lockheed, over the course of the end of Apocalypse´s rule, Kitty Pryde has to gain popularity in a way she never expected.

Kitty Pryde´s warrior name is Ariel and Queen Jean asked Kitty to help in the war, the exchange for such valuable help, Kitty has a nice home now and that should be enough, however, Kitty´s prowess on the battlefield make many Spartans and men look at her in approval. Once learning Kitty was never engaged to Piotr(and killing said man) her fame shines even against Mystique.

“You're the only male in my life who isn´t crazy! I don´t get, why they want to marry me? Why bestow me with this damn title of the beautiful woman ...if they only want to chains me to their will?” Kitty replied and Lockheed didn´t offer a word, only a nice touching on her head.

King  Logan watches Kitty enters back to the limits of the city with a longing smile, Kitty Pryde is a woman that really pay attention to any men, Logan is married to Jean, but, Kitty Pryde is proving to be a true warrior...Could he make Kitty as his mistress?

_______________________________________________________________________________

A queen must be a real warrior, yet, Jean Grey was not a warrior, per se, Logan married Jean out of whim and they fought against Apocalypse...eventually. Jean did call for help and right now, she wished she hasn´t. Logan is watching Kitty again and drooling at the sight of this woman, instead of the great Jean Grey, for a moment Jean thought in killing Kitty here and there and bath with her blood, yet, Jean saw this woman fight.

Blood and organs and bones being tossed and throw easily by Kitty´s hand as she was the one to kill Apocalypse while Jean just watches...Oh, she is done watching now. If she does not have the power, Jean will get the power to get rid of Ariel for good.

“Oh, Aphrodite, goddess of Beauty” Jean is praying on her temple, so long forgotten as the male audience are seeking Kitty, her husband is there lavish her with gifts that should belong with Jean, he is fucking her...Jean is sure. “Help me get rid of this parasite, she wants to ruin me, help me to take the life of Kitty Pryde”

“Ah, so, not everyone is in love with this little woman” Jean look up and saw Aphrodite in all her blue glory and feels blessed, Raven, for her part pretend to not notice Jean´s admiration gazes “I think we have a problem with Kitty Pryde and your husband is sure not minding the problem” a white lie can´t hurt anyone, well, not Raven. Jean is ready to collapse “ fret not, my loyal servant, I´ll take care of this, my son will give a faith worse than death to Kitty Pryde”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt Darkholme is not having an easier day, first off, his mother orders him to kill a woman for, in her inane words, being pretty than her and Kurt Darkholme is a good son, however, using his skills to kill a mere human because his mother does not like competition really sour his day.

Second, said the woman is not on an easy target as she is always moving and training with her sword or gauntlet.

Third, Kurt really thinks this is a stupid plan.

As he walks, invisible, along with Kitty, the man wonder why kill her, if mother is that upset, why not marry her with someone else? Killing someone for that reason feels wrong. As his muse goes on, Kitty stops her walk to see the King, well, the King is really blocking her way so she can only see him.

“King Logan” Kitty replied dryly showing her claws and Logan take that as an invitation. Kurt Darkholme knows a little about this man to not like him being this close of Kitty.

“Kitty, you can call me Logan” the woman is not inclined to attend this wish “and I see you win against another suitor” she remains silent and Logan smiles “and what a man has to do to have a woman like you?”

“Oh, if you want the details, first you need to drop dead, then you have to assume to be dickless and never again breath near me, that's very attractive qualities you can have” Kitty respond and Logan is a firm believer that No means Yes.

Logan is ready to grab and is ready to make his intention know “I can´t help thinking about you, you bewitch me, Kitty” Logan speaks with laced with lust. Kurt Darkholme is not impressed and has no problem in killing the king.

Of course, Darkholme didn't count the fact he's invisible and Kitty saw a man being impaled and is not taking this easier. Kurt Darkholme is trying to calm her down, but, the man is not really good to comforting anyone.

“Hey” his voice in the godly tone, something akin impossible to decipher “you're safe now, he can´t hurt you...go run” Darkholme speaks and Kitty looks around confused.

“WTF?” and Kitty leaves, not without adding this “whatever god you´re ...this is the worst way to comfort someone”

___________________________________________________________________________________

Raven is not impressed that her son did fail on the task nor that he killed Logan, however, this can be used. She can blame Kitty for Logan´s death. A devious smile grows on her blue face.

“Son, your mistake really help your mother” Raven speaks fondly at her son who is sharpening his blades. “That woman will die by human´s hands...oh, this is much better”

Kurt stops sharpening his blades and is not paying attention to her mother blabbing about Kitty´s blood and how her temples will be full again. Kurt thought about that woman and as much killing is not a problem for him...that woman does not deserve to die.

Kurt Darkholme teleports and go to Destiny,who was waiting for him with a knowing smile, Kurt Darkholme is here to charge a favour.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Jean Grey is happy and anger at the same time, a confliction caused by Kitty Pryde, her husband was murder by her, that's the only truth Jean can see. Kitty goes spreading lies as if Logan would rape her...that bitch, in Jean´s mind, seduce him and killed without remorse.

“It wasn´t me, it was one of the gods...I think, he never really give a name but he was following me around” Kitty explained “ he tried to rape me and if the deity or whatever didn´t kill him...I would have”

“PROVE ENOUGH” Jean scream like a loud banshee “you must be killed NOW”  one of her advisers whisper in her ear and Jean is now confused, this exchange last for a few minutes until she speaks again “it seems the Gods didn't forget you” Jean gives a mockery smile “you´ll be sent to be devoured by a monster” her maniacal voice is back but the adviser whisper again “whatever, you won't return here ever again”

She looks and even her most annoying suitors did not dare to go against the queen. So, this wasn't her home after all.

“Ok, I´ll go right away” she thought in running away, even as the advisor explain she will relocate to another place, the oracle saw in her vision the will of the Gods and they want Kitty to move, well, the Gods are very petty.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt Darkholme has no idea why he did that, how many creatures, humans and deity he has killed? Why Kitty Pryde is any different? His sister often say his emotion are so repressed he couldn´t understand himself not even if he tries hard enough.

Well, in that case, I´ll have to understand her.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Kitty arrives to the new location and Jean is seething, her new house is far superior than Jean. Aside from fucking her husband (Kitty swear by the Gods on the Apocalypse´s grave that she never even remotely like the man) she will live like a queen, no, a better queen than Jean…

Kitty for her part is not sure of what to say, a nice place can still be a prison, in the past she thought she had found a home, now, she knows better, this is just a golden cage.

“Good luck, Miss Pryde, the Gods look at you with mercy” one of the priestess speak and Kitty didn´t resist to show her middle finger to the sky.

______________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt Darkholme decides to be invisible for reason he is not quitting getting, maybe, seeing a blue, furry deity with scarlet eyes and thirsty for blood won't be good to the woman's mind.  Or maybe...he's really shy.

The only people he talks are his family or maybe his henchmen, the man did not venture in the romantic path, let alone social, since the incident.

“I´m just protecting her until mother finds another human to torment” Kurt Darkholme explain to himself for the fifth time.

As the woman ventures in the house fearless(or doing a great job in posing as one) Kurt goes to great her, well, that's the idea, unfortunately, as she can´t see him they stumble against each other.

“Oh, hello” Kitty speaks as the deity is still invisible “I was hoping to meet my warden, how are you?”

“I'm not your warden” Kurt defends himself feeling insulted clear he's not a warden, right?

“You killed the king and then let me get the blame” Kitty explained “and then Gods so happen to send me here for supposedly killing the king”

“Wait, they blame you? I killed him with my own sword”

“There´s a trial and everyone was pretty much against me...you could have dropped down and said hello, but, I think they would sentence me to death either way”

“Uhm” Kurt is holding his neck “I was in another trial in Olympus” and then adds “if it makes any difference a guy was sentenced to eat his own organs by Zeus”

“What a dick”

“Yeah, that's the general consensus”

______________________________________________________________________________________

“Can I see your form?” Kitty asked one day as Kitty finishes her dinner, the deity does not eat human food, but, stay near to keep her company, sometimes he speaks about the work or he's just holding a fork to prove he's there.

“No”

“Why?”

“Because”

“Look, I really don't care for your looks, just the fact you can be less of a dick”

“Thank you, that's mean a lot to me”

______________________________________________________________________________________

“You know, if we´re going to do this, then I prefer to be blindfold, otherwise, I couldn't take the make love with a god seriously”

“Well, here I was thinking I could show my true form, but, your idea is neat too”

“What?”

________________________________________________________________________________________

Jean is seething and is talking with Aphrodite to understand how Kitty is living in such a luxurious place, it was said once that envy and anger are poor source of wisdom, as Jean forget Mystique is a Goddess and the woman demands to  have Kitty´s blood.

Aphrodite takes orders from no one and soon this kingdom lost the queen too.

“But, where is …” she stops and realizes what happened “Oh, Kurt, really?!”

______________________________________________________________________________________

Kurt Darkholme decides he can show his true form now, this relationship can´t be based on lies and Kurt, as far his shyness go, can´t hide himself. So, he reveal his blue form for Kitty trying not make this a big deal.

“The fur I knew, I felt” she explained looking into his eyes “ you know, I like your eyes, I always have the impression you would have pretty eyes”

“They are red as the blood”

“Ah, here is the edgy boy I know and love”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Mystique can´t complain as her temples are full again, yet, her son is married with the woman who almost destroy her. Well, she supposed Kurt did better than Rogue(really, Rogue, Gambit?!) and at very least this woman is not ugly or dumb, yet, Raven makes no promise to be a doting mother to this woman.

“Irene, how could you do this?” Raven asks to lay down next to Irene.

“I saw your son take alike to her and quickly turn into love, that boy deserves to be happy and you tend to be too vingative sometimes”

“Just sometimes?”

“You´re right, Raven, my bad, you are vingative most of the time”

“That's better”

[titleknown]

Three Spooky Fictional Knockoff Toylines!

That’s right, as the big writing piece for this spooky time of year, it’s three spooky toylines ripping off bigger properties in a way that do not exist.

These are all public domain/CC0, free to use for whatever you see fit, though crediting me and linking to my Patreon or Ko-Fi would be nice. 

Shoutout to @genustoys, @phelous and @therobotmonster for heavily inspiring these with their work!

Now, LET US BEGIN!

Monsterlords of the Nether Realms- This line is an odd duck in that it was a knockoff of a toyline that wasn't all that popular. Namely, Inhumanoids.

It was seemingly designed to be cross-compatible with the large monsters of that line, yet in all irony it stuck around seemingly far longer, likely due to the lower price points it was was able to get away with due to being a “non-branded” product and the cross-compatibility of play pattern with the larger figures.

And they were shockingly lavish for what was seemingly a “low rent” property, which has lead to suspicions of it and its related properties being a money-laundering scheme, or at least cover for something unsavory, though others say it could simply be good craftsmanship and the evidence in favor of and against such is perhaps a story for another day.

There were five of them that ended up bumping around store shelves, give or take a few “extras,” which we will cover as they come.

The first piece; likely intended as the “mascot” due to its prescence in promotional artwork is the one known as MOLINTHA, or “ANTHILL EVIL” on certain variants, a large figure encased in a roughly mountain shaped “shell” when curled in a specific position; with an ominous “maw” that turned into a torso when the figure was uncurled.

The mountain pieces themselves (Which were free-standing on their own) provided a large amount of play value with platforms seemingly shaped for various 3&¾-inch figures, but the body itself was a gorgeous design, with the “scaffolding” where the mountain clicked on turning into a series of platforms for figures to climb and clamber over,

The articulation was low, but the sculpting was pleasantly gnarly, resembling some dark ancient castle covered in mystic carving given humanoid form, without an articulated head but instead a snarling “maw” in which figures could be placed inside. Though, there has been some speculation that this head was ripped off a similar design from the front of the classic D&D Dungeon Master's Guide, and I would be lying if I did not see the resemblance.

As expected, it did not come with any figures, but did come with a large assortment of commonly-circulated plastic “bugs” molded in a clear rubbery plastic; along with a few of the notorous “Chinasaurs” that ended up as the basis for D&D monsters bizarrely enough.

The second known most commonly as “LEVIATHOIN” was a piece that had a similar yet wildly different gimmick. The main “body” was actually simply an inanimate idol, which one might say resembles a very specific image of Baphomet, but the smaller figures were of real interest.

Four five-inch ones, bearing an odd resemblance to a scaled-down Molhilintta minus the scaffolding and with a few odd tweaks, with a similar simple articulation scheme, but also a feature in which the arms and legs could “click” together tightly, which leads to the real draw of such.

Each figure attached to a socket in the main “idol” and functioned as a crude combiner., forming a huge “creature”. Each figure could function as n arm or a leg on either side, and the color variants (Including a few alledged remolds of these torsoes) could be their own article in and of themselves.

The third known as MECHA-SHAG was an extremely simple design and yet also one of the most bizarre of them all. It was a hairy “core” akin to the Masters of the Universe Grizzlor, but with a strange robotic face; limbs and at least a dozen missile launchers. They were Micronauts-styled “safety” missiles, but still fascinatingly odd all the same. There is evidence for the pieces origin as a possible Shogun Warriors/Jumbo Machinder knockoff, but again that is a detail for another day.

The fourth one was known as RUCIBEDO, and was unusual even for this line. It was a stylized kaiju-esque “pterodactyl” with a flapping action; its oddly “bio-mechanical” look seemingly giving credence to the idea that the enigmatic company behind the linwas making a Shogun Warriors knockoff-series before they decided to switch gears, but those are not the only notable parts.

The most blatant one is the fact that it is sculpted in a bright red; translucnet plastic, and not only that but had electric lights wired to the flapping mechanism in some bizarrely spacious “alcoves” in the back (Possibly for aborted missile-firing features), creating an immensely striking effect. Albeit one that had a tendency to break; though there are repair guides out there.

And the fifth PLUCHUN is an odd duck, because it should by all accounts be considered kind of a “ripoff” due to using far less material for the same price point as the others, but is often the most fondly remembered.

It is a small torso seemingly made of organic “pipes with a “hatch” on the head and a button slightly below. It also came with a small container of “slime” indicating its function. Namely, put it in the back of the head; press the button repeatedly; and the slime drips out of the holes in the creature, with a pumping rubber “heart” completing the effect. Weirdly; while the rubber on most of these has rotted off, there appears to be a fully sculpted (Albeit much cruder) “heart” that still moved in and out when the button was pressed.

The whole thing was capped off by immensely long rubbery bendy-limbs in the same style as the “main body's” pipes. These tended to be very fragile, and while memorable, this has the fewest surviving specimens out of them all.

As said before, there are other specimens that may be covered at a later date; such as the odd hand-puppet and the bizarrely remolded Imperial Dinosaurs linked to the line and the smaller-range figures, but this is running a bit long, so I'll leave it here for now.

Nightmare Gores- Relating to the preponderance of He-Man knockoff figure lines in the 80s, and the popularity of slasher films, it was only a matter of time that the two would be combined, in ways only possible without mass-fundie-protest at least) in small lines like this.

In striking red-and-black packaging with crude art of a horde of ghoulish monsters rseemingly ripping out of the card back, with the bizarrely memorable phrase of “WE WILL KILL YOU” coming out of a word balloon, there's relatively few things like it.

It used a standard barbarian body whose origins predated the line; but from where they predated was a matter of debate (Though it is known that it most certainly was original to that company and not a He-Man or Galaxy Hole bootleg(), all the same across the line with differing headsculpts.

The headsculpts did have consistent names, and one could tell their inspirations relatively well. Joe was obviously a Freddy Kreuger without the hat, the hockey-masked Rod was obviously Jason Voorhees, Mike was very obviously a riff on Michael Jackson's Thriller Werecat (Corroborated with the usual non-caucasian color of his body sculpt) and Gross was blatantly the Toxic Avenger. Mush was a generalized “melting” face, but could be said to be taken from Cropsey of The Burning; and Hexen's gas mask was likely inspired by My Bloody Valentine's main antagonist; albeit with bizarrely added devil horns.

Then there are the oddballs. Clash is a fan-favorite alongsid Hexen due to his pure black-plastic body and strange hood in striking red with a black void for a front and two piercing red pupils, but I like Frank a lot if only for being a big ridiculous Frankenstein head repurposed for this, as was what I would call the “Baltard” of this line Stall-9 with his slighly crossed eyes and almost comical grin negating whatever intimidation factory they might have. Redd caps off the line with the strange combination of bull and horse head designs obviously repurposed from the barbarian toyline this comes from in a way that still sorta works.

Their pack in accessories vary across production, but there are some commonalities. Mike; Rod; Hexen and Clash almost always came with cool red vinyl “jackets” and Tedd and Frank almost always came with bizzarrely realistic handguns molded in bright orange. And Stal-9; Mush and Clash came with a “chainsaw: very clearly remolded from a gun.

The rest were a mushmash of machetes and hammers, and knives; axes and clubs that were clearly re-utilized from the original line. There are other “relatives” like the Killer Beasts and the Murder Lady, but we'll leave it here for now.

ShineFriendz- One of the many Tamagochi-come-latelies in the 90s, this line tried valiantly to differentiate itself from the usual Tamagochi clones by giving itself a backlite, far more extensive interaction within the limits of its mono-colored pixel art and a link function for “playtimes,” All in a model approximately the size of a modern day smartphone, and to be supported with early web tie-ins in lieu of an expensive animated series.

Of course, the fact that it was its parent company's first venture into such things; a battery company to be exact (Hence why they felt so secure in being battery-eaters), there was very little oversight into the programming. And, due to a series of circumstances too stupid to mention, the devices had  far more memory than they anticipated, and far more than they would need for the device's intended functions.

And, what happens when you have bored programmers and lots of time, you get easter eggs. Lots and lots of unsettling easter eggs. To the point where they took up approximately as much space as the “main” games.

So, they were immensely easy to run into during play, but they went unnoticed by corporate during the first three iterations of the pets. The most notorious of them was the possible evolution called only BREATHING which looked like an emaciated and decrepit eyeless version of the brand's canid mascot-species the Buroof that was continually doing what its name implied and had a legion of ominous quirks too long to list here.

Despite rumors, surprisingly none of the glitches involved causing death or injury to any of the pets. Though, that still didn't make them any less fucked up, with such examples as a “pet” known as BRILT that took the form of continual flame graphic that at times would flicker to the outline of another; random pet, to the weird “bird” known as CAUSE whose pleasure meter would go up if you hit the scold button,

There's a full list of “AnomalyFriendz” (the usual fan nickname0 that's too long to list here, but it wasn't limited to them, with such things as a “Game” that involved running from what looked like a crude pair of jaws to a “food” that looked like a wad with what was unmistakably eyes. And the web fiction didn't help, given how the actual text stories were dark , reading more like if Clive Barker wrote Watership Down with it just being barely within what was “appropriate” for kids, with increasingly less subtle allusions to the “AnomalyFriendz”

The minority of parental complaints weren't what got the execs notice however, it was actually the fans of the property, young girls who wrote in asking about those glitches. Not even in disapproving tones either, just asking whether they were intentional, or even asking if playground rumors (Or the rumors circulating across the website's own forums) were true.

This lead to them trying to integrate the macabre bits into the actual marketing for the toys, with the fourth iteration “FreakyFriendz,” with a cleverly altered shell with an ominously warped corner and more integration of the “anomalous” and “regular” Friends. And that is what sunk the line.

Because, parents actually noticed and; since this was the 90s; they bitched up a storm, leading to most of them being removed from shelves. Which is a shame, because enthusiasts say these were the best models yet.

The company left the business shortly thereafter, but there remains a small cult fandom to this day; complete with officially sanctioned web-iterations and even a few (sadly stillborn) attempts at full on revivals. But, maybe someday...

[ezatluba]

Graves of nearly 600 cats and dogs in ancient Egypt may be world's oldest pet cemetery

Finds suggest Roman-era owners formed strong emotional bonds with their companion animals

26 Feb 2021

David Grimm

The cats and dogs lie as if asleep, in individual graves. Many wore collars or other adornments, and they had been cared for through injury and old age, like today's pets. But the last person to bury a beloved animal companion in this arid Egyptian land on the coast of the Red Sea did so nearly 2000 years ago.

The site, located in the early Roman port of Berenice, was found 10 years ago, but its purpose was mysterious. Now, a detailed excavation has unearthed the burials of nearly 600 cats and dogs, along with the strongest evidence yet that these animals were treasured pets. That would make the site the oldest known pet cemetery, the authors argue, suggesting the modern concept of pets wasn't alien to the ancient world.

"I've never encountered a cemetery like this," says Michael MacKinnon, a zooarchaeologist at the University of Winnipeg who has studied the role of animals across the bygone Mediterranean but was not involved with the new work. "The idea of pets as part of the family is hard to get at in antiquity, but I think they were [family] here."

Archaeozoologist Marta Osypinska and her colleagues at the Polish Academy of Sciences discovered the graveyard just outside the city walls, beneath a Roman trash dump, in 2011. The cemetery appears to have been used between the first and second centuries C.E., when Berenice was a bustling Roman port that traded ivory, fabrics, and other luxury goods from India, Arabia, and Europe.

In 2017, Osypinska's team reported unearthing the remains of about 100 animals—mostly cats—which appear to have been cared for like pets. But the exact nature of the site wasn't clear. Salima Ikram, an expert on ancient Egyptian animals at the American University in Cairo, said at the time that the bones might have been discarded rubbish.

Fieldwork being conducted at the Berenice pet cemetery

Osypinska and her colleagues have now excavated the remains of 585 animals from the site and analyzed the bones in detail. A veterinarian helped the team determine health, diet, and cause of death.

The animals appear to have been laid gently in well-prepared pits. Many were covered with textiles or pieces of pottery, "which formed a kind of sarcophagus," Osypinska says. More than 90% were cats, many wearing iron collars or necklaces threaded with glass and shells. One feline was placed on the wing of a large bird.

The team found no evidence of mummification, sacrifice, or other ritual practices seen at ancient animal burial places such as the Ashkelon site in Israel. At Berenice, most of the animals appear to have died from injury or disease. Some cats have fractured legs or other breaks that may have been caused by falls or from being kicked by a horse. Others died young, possibly from infectious diseases that spread rapidly in the cramped city.

The dogs, which make up only about 5% of the burials (the rest are monkeys), tended to be older when they died. Many had lost most of their teeth or suffered periodontal disease and joint degeneration.

"We have individuals who have very limited mobility," Osypinska says. Yet many lived long lives and their injuries healed. "Such animals had to be fed to survive," she says, "sometimes with special foods in the case of the almost-toothless animals."

A cat from Berenice was wearing a bronze collar.

The fact that humans took such good care of the animals, especially in a rough-and-tumble region where almost all resources had to be imported—and that they took such care in burying them, just as many modern owners do—suggests the people of Berenice had a strong emotional bond with their cats and dogs, the team concluded last month in World Archaeology. "They weren't doing it for the gods or for any utilitarian benefit," Osypinska says. Instead, she argues that the relationship between people and their pets was "surprisingly close" to the one we see today.

Ikram is convinced. "This is a cemetery," she says. "And it sheds an interesting light on the inhabitants of Berenice and their relationships with their animals."

Archaeologist Wim Van Neer is also on board. "I've never seen a cat with a collar" from so long ago, says Van Neer, of the Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Sciences, who has studied the relationship between people and animals in the ancient world, including at Berenice.

Still, he says it's possible the people of Berenice valued their cats and dogs for nonsentimental reasons. A seaport would have teemed with rats, he notes, making cats a prized working animal. And although a few of the pups at the site were small dogs akin to today's toy breeds—and thus likely had little utility except as lap dogs—larger canines could have guarded homes and consumed refuse. "I don't believe it was just a loving relationship."

Osypinska hopes the new work will convince other archaeologists that companion animals are worth study. "At first, some very experienced archaeologists discouraged me from this research," arguing the pets were irrelevant for understanding the lives of ancient peoples, she says. "I hope the results of our studies prove that it's worth it."

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Option B

Blame @the-well-rested-one. Like Shaggy said, it wasn’t me.

Harry’s house is just as gorgeous as the one we have left, and the population of two that inhabit it are much more to my liking. I can barely remember the invite I got to That Party, but I’ll be sure to thank my friend, because this is living the dream, but I know I won’t ever go again. I wonder if Harry will attend another. I look over at his unmasked face and marvel. That jawline is criminal, its stolen my attention all evening. I can’t imagine what else it will abscond with by the time this is through.

He catches me looking and I blush.

“Look at that bloom, love!” he chuckles and approaches where I stand near his kitchen island. His arms circle my hips and grip. I find myself on his marble counter top and my ass would be as icy as it if the heat coming off him between my thighs wasn't akin to an industrial heater. His hand runs up to my neck and he clutches it like an egg. I’m not going anywhere, but the pressure is delicate. He rubs a thumb up my throat and watches my neck as I gulp. “After how good you just treated me, I’m surprised you are capable of blushing. Think it’s about time to return the favor, hmmmm?” he finishes the question with a vibrato against my lips and when I nod eagerly is smears our lips together. The balm I had applied after the abuse I had just inflicted happily upon myself is spread around and I can feel it breach the borders  of my lips and the sense memory of swiping him onto and around those same body parts causes a moan.

Harry takes advantage; the kiss starts deep and wet. His tongue makes a home in my mouth, but it’s not cozy. It’s a messy house party, and his hand has remained clutched to my neck and is squeezing lightly to the sides of my neck. The restricted blood flow is fucking with me, I can’t even think about participating and my volume is unrestricted. When I pull back to gasp, he smirks at me and the power shift from an hour ago is a revolution.  I can feel a pulse and gush. When I blush again, he tilts his head to the side and gives me a curious glance. But rather than asking, he seems to be intent on playing marco polo instead. The hand on my neck migrates down and the way that I fill the palms of his hands seems to work for both of us if the twin groans are any indication. He investigates the twin peaks he’s created, planting his flag on this previously undiscovered country for a time until my groan turns to a mewl and I hear myself begging. My shirt disappears with my skirt and all I can think of is that Versace lyric. I feel like I’m cheating , musically, on my single serving lover,  but Bruno hasn’t a chance.  

The favors he’s doing my nipples are perfect, except they are dry and I am having trouble voicing my frustration. But my lover is smirking, “Need something?”

“Wet them….Can you wet your fingers?”

“I’ll do you one better.” he does me at least a dozen better when he attaches that pout to them, but only after he makes them wet. It’s a delicious preview of what they may look like soon when they are covered in me. His mouth forms a cup around my nipple, I’ve always considered them a little big, but they seem to meet and exceed his expectation if the not so subtle adjustment he gives himself is any indication. The suction seems to be his favorite, but his fingers are plucking at my other peak, he pulls back a minute and I wimper a protest before he chuckles and gets back to work. I wonder what the hold up was, until I get what his intent was when his fingers are shoved unceremoniously into my mouth. I wet them, as he none to gently has suggested and bite as they escape. With wet fingers, he circles one nipple, and mimics the movement with his tongue. He’s looking at me. I’m breathless, speechless already.

“This what you like?”

I nod, and realize I’m only watching the goings on, my hands are gripping the edge of the now warm marble beneath me. I need the ballast, but I remove one hand to run through his silky hair. He’s laughing again, the smug ass, but I realize my neck is still going like a bobble head on a dashboard. I scratch his scalp and laugh at myself with him. He flexes into the caress and I catalog that for later. Hope for a later. His mouth draws down the center of my tummy, and his hand that remains on my chest pushes me back so I’m reclining. There is a second tier to the island I’m on, its completely uncomfortable and I find the cold hardness of it distracting.

But Harry performs a magic trick, and I forget my discomfort, it  makes me wonder where my self preservation has gone. He’s petting my panties and I know they are embarrassingly wet, have been since the head I gave him earlier. He seems to approve and the kisses to my lower abdomen are as wet at my pussy. Both hands circle my thighs and I marvel at their size before he pulls me down. My back is going to hate me tomorrow. I can’t be fucked to care. Or I being fucked to well to care. His fingers are inside of me and he seems to be checking his progress, like an eager student turning to the back of the book. My head falls back, and before I know it, the magician between my legs has used some sleight of hand to get my panties off. Maybe I blacked out. He’s mouthing the round ball of my ankle joint, and who knew that was a thing. His arms are long; the fingers not on my foot are still inside me, driving me crazy with straightforward thrusts. I really want him to turn his palm around, but my words have disappeared behind the veil where my sense has gone. My mouth reengages when he kisses up my leg, stopping at my knee, and continuing up until he is at my hip flexors. He mouths at the meeting between my hips and thigh on both sides before testing my flexibility by bending me in half. My knees meet my chest when his mouth finally finds my vulva. I’m the pucture of wanton anticipation. Naked as the day with a clothed man between my thighs spread out on the clean surface below me. But I’m waiting, and his fingers have disappeared and I’m empty. My head, which feels like its full of lead, lifts up to find him staring at me. I don’t have it in me to feel insecure, I’m to worked up. I just watch him watch me before he leans forward and purses his wet pink lips and blows on my swollen clit. My back jumps off the counter, “Motherfucker,” comes out of my mouth and I feel his shoulders bounce below my thighs. I don’t hear the laugh, because his mouth is busy. He’s licked me top to tail, and I’m so ready to get to the main event, the pulsing little heart of me  I whine out, “No!” when he licks around my clit, but not on it. He continues this for longer than I’d like.

“I can feel those legs twitching,” he smirks.

“Fuck off,” I return and he fills his smiling mouth with my hood and the intake of breath I draw almost chokes me. His work is smooth. He licks up and down, flicks occasionally, until he realizes that I like the broads strokes better. Up and down, like a carousel horse, and my belly undulates to the rhythm. I can see the muscles there constricting and if I had the wherewithal I would wonder why they didn’t do that in belly dancing class. I think I’m saying please, but I might as well have a shell pressed to my ear. Sounds are muffled.

He pulls back to slip his tongue into my opening and the pause is enough for me to realize I have a handful of hair, and I’m pulling, hard. “Sorry.” I say and my hand finds its way to my stomach.

He looks up at me, crocodile eyes above the waterline, and grabs my hand to put it back where it was. I fear for the curls that have sprung up, but obey. He places a hand back on my tum, his mouth back to my center, and three fingers on his opposing hand find their way into my opening. He turns them up in a come hither motion at the moment he seals his mouth over my clit with a bit of suction and proceeds to rub the flat of his tongue up and down until he has to move both of his hands to unclamp my thighs from his ears. He pushes them to the counter.

“Keep em there,” his tone means business but he adds a please. I nod my head again, my neck muscles are gonna be sore at this rate. Every hope I had about how he’d look anointed with my dew is answered. His mouth is gorgeous and wet and a little pink and sets atop a jawline and between cheekbones a sculptor would cut with an exacto. I watch him until his mouth descends. His hand and mouth get back to work, and when a pinky finds its way to my puckered hole, I disobey, my thighs snap up, my back arches, my belly does a samba, and my mouth calls his name.  I quake and quiver on his countertop while he gentles me down. He’s removing his hands and rubbing my thighs, licking lightly until I push his head away. I move to curl up and groan when I realize where I am.

He helps me down and I stretch uncomfortably as I realize the sun is coming up.

He follows my gaze while he rubs the tender spots on my back. “It’s early,” he states. “Do you have to be anywhere?”

I look at the clock, shit. “Yeah, I need to get to work.”

He senses my hurry and helps me locate my clothes, points out a bathroom, and when I come out as presentably as I can, he hands me a coffee cup.

“I never asked your name?” the accent is thicker this am, voice raspier, and his mouth is still wet. I still want it.  I wonder if he’s cleaned himself up at all.

“Um, its Elle.” I leave it at that.

He leans in and kisses me, and I know he hasn’t washed.

“I called you an uber, but I wasn’t sure where to send it.” I take his phone and put in the address.  

He puts it to use when a beautiful orchid arrives later to the desk I work at a record label. I read the card and smile.

“I won’t forget you, or your taste.  

                        Love, H.”

Send your votes my way. Option A or B. Reblog and vote in the tags or message me your vote!

[pookyhorse]

Simian Secrets Chap.2 “Family Dinner It had been nearly a month since Gregor had rescued the human female. He was proud of his accomplishments so far. Nina had gained weight again. Her bony figure plumped with soft corners. But he kept in mind to not fatten her up as he did not want the other chimps to view her as a possible food source. And her brunette top shined with health as he kept her frequently washed and groomed. She was still uneasy with his bodily contact but tolerated it. He reflected on the lithe, feral human he once saw in his childhood. She reminded him of such warm memories. But he didn’t want to rush things. He knew it would be some time, if ever, that her mind would catch up. In the meantime he attempted to teach her simple signs such as “food”, “water” and “bathroom.” He had more downs than ups with her on training. He was sure she rarely spent time indoors and would do her business anywhere. He had to teach her that this wouldn’t do. He’d chase after her if she spotted her squatting and she would collapse in a heap, screaming her head off. He had to scoop up her shivering body and show her just outside his nest in a sand box he made just for her where she could go. He even demonstrated by pissing in it himself. She seemed quite interested in that. She had taken fairly well to her crate. Which was a necessity while he went out hunting and trapping game for the village’s food store. But as her strength grew she became more impatient being trapped in that tiny square for very long. This was growing more complicated than he thought. There was more wrong than right. “You are driving me to climb a slippery wall.” He grumbled, waving his hairy arms about. “Perhaps this is why they dumped you. A burden for me.” He plopped down in his nest of a straw filled bison hide. “I’d like to think there was more to it than this.” Nina sat on the edge of his fur nest. It was plush beneath her feet and cushioned her so much more than the simple deer hide she had in her crate. She squirmed the long strands through her toes. He gazed at her from above his broad muzzle, taking care not to make any movements. It was really the first time he’s noticed her taking an interest in her surroundings. “Do you like this nest? It is rather grand.” He picked at the hide. “I brought down this animal myself when I was ten years old. It is part of a male’s initiation into adulthood. We must prove our prowess to be a worthwhile member of this clan.” He pointed at a design burned into lower belly. Its shape akin to a simple plant. “If we have passed these tests we earn this brand. It hurt worse than a kick from a horse.” Nina mused quietly and he pondered if she even understood what he said. But at least she wasn’t giving him the usual petrified stare. Maybe she was warming to him finally. She tangled her fingers around the hairs again, popping her lips. He scooted a foot close to her. She drew back, glaring at it. “I won’t hurt you. Should know that by now.” He wiggles a toe at her and hummed. “Nina, Nina. Oh little Nina.” He gave her a soft poke in the thigh. She wrinkled her nose. “Look. I’m having dinner at my parent’s house and I’m bringing you along. I feel you are ready.” Gregor had tied a leather leash around her waist and led her along. She obediently followed him, keeping in step with her chimp master. He couldn’t help but marvel at how much at ease she was with walking upright. His kind only started to recently but still found it easier to switch to knuckle walking in spurts. And when he reached his parent’s house he wasn’t exactly getting the warm welcome he usually received. Nina studied the big nest, her knees trembling. This was unfamiliar territory and brought no comfort to her. She kept close to the only familiar individual in her life as current. Gregor grunted at her softly, giving her face a gentle stroke. He was rather pleased at how she looked to him now for safety. The other greying and burly male that swaggered about made her anxious. “Not sure why you bothered to bring that animal in here. Unless you plan to cook her up.” He grunted hoarsely. “I’m not fond of eating those filthy animals.” Gregor sat at his usual place with Nina sitting right behind him. Around him were more family members. His father was a high-ranking male of thirty eight years and was able to take on more than one wife. He had three, including his mother, whom was the youngest. They were like status symbols. And surrounding his three wives were his various children and a few grandchildren. His own mother was a timid sort, always keen on keeping tensions to a minimum by whimpering and fear-grimacing to her stout husband if he grew too fierce. She had always been an attentive mother for him. But she had a two year old to treasure now suckling at her breast. “And still no mate I see. But brings a human female instead. Are you telling us something son?” His father mocked, tearing apart a goose laid out just for him. “I expected a son of the Skyback clan to be more choosy to where he throws his seeds. Especially of my line.” Gregor rolled his eyes. “She’s just a pet. I’m studying humans.” His old father snorted in response. “Foolish waste of time.” His mother fear-grimaced again and stroked her son’s arm. He had been her first child and always held a special spot for her. “If that is what you wish to do I will support you.” Such a dear mother he had. While they noisily tore at the carcasses of fowl and tender elk fawn before them, Gregor slipped Nina a few slivers of his own. With their meat was always served with greens like lettuce. Another staple of the chimpanzee diet. Around him his half-siblings whimpered to their mothers to share their meals. Rarely did the father ever do so. That often fell onto the mother of said child. Gregor’s own mother had two other children to watch over; a nine year old daughter, soon to be mated, and a two year old son whom was nursing now. It was a typical lifestyle for a well-off family. One he didn’t care for. After dinner the family settled down in a large comfy room covered with pillows and furs for them to rest upon and groom one another. It was the normal tradition of a chimpanzee family. His stout father had plopped himself on a huge buffalo hide stuffed and sewn with feathers. Little wisps of downy floated into the air. Two of his wives groomed him on either side. While his own mother groomed him. She always marveled over her son. “I made you.” She’d often murmur to herself. Her son was the biggest and heaviest of her mate’s children. But he was not present for Gregor’s birth. He already had two other healthy sons at that time. Gregor was just another number. Nina sat close to his head, nervously shaking, her head buried between her knees. Gregor reached up and stroked her softly. “You’ll be fine Nina.” “Don’t bring her here again.” His father snorted. “Your infatuation with her creeps me out.” Some of the children snickered. Gregor ignored him. He had learned to drown out his cunt of a father’s grating voice long ago. He only blew a subtle snort but it was enough for the aged chimp’s ears to pick up. “You got something to say?” “No sir..” “As I thought..” Oh he couldn’t wait for the day that shitty old fart passed on. Maybe a big heart attack after fucking his wives too hard on a summer evening. A fat old male can be a glutton for pussy for only so long. He smiled at the thought and gave Nina’s fingers a gentle squeeze.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Wrack and Ruin

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

The hunting party gathers in morning mist. It is the original three plus Mr. Biddle who professes a casual interest in the entire affair.

'Mr. Bligh?' Arthur asks.

'Unwell,' Joseph says. 'He is staying in for the day. I asked Mr. Cadwalader but he is in Boston at the moment. Chasing after some recently arrived sculptures from Italy.'

No one appears much upset the news of an absent Mr. Bligh. Arthur pets one of Joseph's hounds with affection and declares that the day will probably be a beautiful one despite the fog. It will burn off by midday and it will be lovely. A fine time for a spot of tracking.

Much like their first attempt to find the beast the initial several hours are spent amiably enough but without much sight or sound of the creature. Considering their previous luck they head towards the bog with Joseph reasoning out that it might the creature's watering hole.

Joseph and Napoleon lead the party with Arthur and Nicholas bringing up the rear. Occasional conversation flitters through. How is the relationship between Caroline and the king going? Terrible as usual.

'Don't eat dinner with your lover when you also want to be queen,' is Napoleon's helpful advice.

Nicholas expresses sympathy for both parties. He quotes Homer, citing their conversation from the night before, 'Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earth, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.'

'It is not weakness,' Arthur mutters. 'But mere folly. On both their parts.'

'Indeed, your grace, and so I feel for them.'

Napoleon, turns so he walking backwards and facing Arthur and Nicholas, 'you were of a similar mind for a time, Wellesley. I remember Mrs. Topsom quizzing you about the Princess Caroline when I first arrived in Woodford.' He almost stumbles, turns back around so as to not fall.

Joseph, over his shoulder, 'never express an opinion in front of my brother, gentlemen. He'll never let you forget it.'

'So I have come to learn,' Arthur replies dryly. 'My views have shifted with new information. As most people's are wont to do. Including yours, sir, though you profess otherwise.' Sotto voce to Nicholas, 'General Bonaparte takes great pleasure in professing opinions that are not his own.'

Nicholas considers this information then replies that he would think a great weakness in a friendly debate as it forces you to argue from a disadvantage. Passion, for better or worse, oftentimes over rules facts in conversations and so to believe in your side gives you a decided advantage.

The conversation dies down with the increasing late-morning temperature and soon the group returns to its quiet contemplation. The pine barrens are their usual uncanny quietude safe for boots on brush, the occasional bird, distant insects, movement of fabric of hunting coats.

Arriving at the bog from the previous day the men scan for tracks but find none. It is an untouched land. No bugs skating on the surface of water, no frogs, no fish. The sheer sense of absence becomes overwhelming.

'Let us head this way,' Joseph says. 'A different direction from yesterday but more secluded and perhaps more favourable for our creature.'

With the Pine Barrens it becomes disconcerting at high noon with all the trees looking much the same and little other vegetation to create a difference of scenery. Repetition is maddening, disorienting. Have they been going in circles? It is difficult to say.

For a moment Arthur pauses, leans against his musket, and looks behind them. There are signs of their trail, marks to guide them back should they turn around. Biddle stops with him, 'your grace? All is well?'

And as he turns to say, 'oh yes, just looking' he finds they are alone. Napoleon and Joseph are no longer ahead of them.

'Where are they?' Arthur says.

'They were just there a moment ago they cannot be far.'

They speed up their walking hoping to catch up to the others but there is no sign of them. No sign that they had been there at all.

//

Joseph leans against a tree and readjusts the musket on his shoulder. The forest is remarkably warm for the spring and his boots damp from mud. He gives a humourless smile to Napoleon.

'Not quite what any of us had in mind,' he says.

'No. We are sure we retraced our path exactly?'

'Yes, I found all my markings.'

Napoleon sighs, rubs the back of his neck. There is too much humidity for comfort. Too much for this time of year, as well. A mosquito lands on his cheek and he swats it away.

'Well best to head all the way back out. I'm sure they're doing the same,' Napoleon says when Joseph seems ill inclined to make a suggestion. 'Wellesley isn't daft, they'll retrace their steps as well. We'll run into them.'

They march on. Joseph finds it akin to their youthful days in Corsica. Him, speaking warmly of the countryside, the art of the land, the beauty of the sky. Napoleon quoting Cicero and speaking of the past with interest, the present with disinterest. It is like he trades places, Ceasar he can be passionate about, Talleyrand only dispassion.

Present-tense emotions are too much and so they are mapped on to the past-tense. Joseph thinks, Hear Nabulio speak of the snakes in Roman courts and you are hearing him speak of snakes in the French court.

'If you could go back and change one thing, what would it be?' Joseph asks.

'Only one? I'd buy more presents for Josephine.'

'I am being serious.'

Napoleon tweaks his ear. Joseph bats his hand away. He wants a true and real answer but Napoleon is playing coy.

'This is just like you, you know,' Joseph says with resignation. 'Avoiding all the difficult conversations.'

'I am not avoiding a difficult conversation, I am avoiding a ridiculous question. Do not ask me what I would do differently! It serves no useful purpose but to make us maudlin.'

Joseph purses his lips and wishes to disagree but cannot pin point the exact nature of his disagreement only he knows his brother is wrong, or not quite right, or perhaps they're having two different conversations.  

'Do you have regrets?'

'Of course,' snapped. 'But again, what purpose is served by listing them? Do I wish I had done some things differently? Made different choices? Naturally. I do not want to be here no more than you want to be here-'

'I beg you not to place your desires onto mine. We are not the same person.'

'No, we are not. You are infinitely easy to please and unambitious.'

'There is no shame in either of those.'

'Did I say there was?'

'By the tone of your voice you certainly did.'

Napoleon scoffs, 'ever the victim, Joseph.'

'That is untrue. You on the other hand-'

'Me?'

Joseph stops and gives his brother a grave look. 'Nothing is ever your fault, it is always the fault of others. No blame lies on those shoulders that forced their way into Atlas' position whether it was desired or not. I at least have the temerity to accept when I have made a mistake.'

Napoleon's expression is blank, at first, then fiery. His eyes are Atlantic storm grey and he is sneering, a cold look. Atlantic cold.

'I have no wish to continue this conversation,' Napoleon hisses. 'You are not yourself.'

'Fine,' Joseph snaps. 'We can go back to never talking about anything as if that has ever done good for our family.'

Joseph stalks off in one direction, Napoleon the other. Unable to resist Napoleon spins on his heel and says, 'Temerity, brother-mine, is not a word that can be used to describe your actions. Indolence on the other hand.'

Joseph turns back to Napoleon and snaps, 'there is audacity in kindness. Something you are incapable of.' Joseph watches as his brother's face changes from one of anger to a very careful neutral. Napoleon licks his lips. Joseph is uncertain about this change. What could it mean? Napoleon's eyes aren't on him, he notices, but slightly above him.

There is a soft hiss.

Joseph feels his stomach clench, the air leave his lungs in horror. His hand tightens on his musket but he cannot turn around to face the creature. In these fleeting moments of uncertainly Napoleon lunges forward, grabs Joseph and pushes him behind him as he draws his sword.

'Fuck off,' he shouts.  

The beast does not move. Napoleon can see the thin leather of the wings, which remind him of bats but much larger, the short horse-hair covering its body. The red eyes edged in with yellow, the birdlike legs, the hooved feet, clawed hands. It hisses again and oh, the teeth make him queasy.

'Get away,' he says, waving his sword. 'No one wants you here. Go on.'

Joseph fumbles with his musket then holds it up. The creature looks at them both. Joseph feels its eyes boring into him. There is sadness behind the terror. There is bittersweet loneliness behind the horror.

Napoleon whispers, 'go on, shoot it.'

Joseph pulls the lock back till it clicks. The Jersey Devil shifts its steady, weighted gaze from Joseph to Napoleon who continues to point his sword at it. Joseph cannot fathom what his brother is reading in the creature's face. What sense of identity he is gleaning from this monster that was shunned by its family. Cast aside. Abandoned to live out its lonely existence in the most barren of places.

Napoleon takes a few steps back and lowers the sword. He and Joseph stand within inches of each other, the Jersey Devil is several feet from them. It lets out a slithering hiss. It travels down their spines, nests in a pit of fear at the base of their stomachs.

How can something so fearsome be so pitiable?

It takes flight. An incomprehensible action that makes little sense in regards to physics of the natural world but this is no longer merely the natural world.

//

Arthur is standing up to his ankles in mud swatting at flies. The bog has come upon them suddenly and Biddle has been regaling him with his latest adventures into the realms of natural philosophy and travel literature.

'It began after I read Cook's journals,' Nicholas says cheerfully. He waves at the mosquitoes around him. 'Then I wrote the report up for the westward expedition of Mr. Lewis and Mr. Clark and that was absolutely phenomenal. Fascinating. I would love to see half of what they saw.'

Arthur thinks it ironic to state something like that as they trudge to the edge of the bog and are desperately trying to keep muskets out of the water as they flight mosquitoes and black flies. He will willingly put up with such nuisances when on campaign. Being out in nature is good for the constitution and builds character. But to wish to live the life of a fetid fur trapper, which is surely the state the Misters Lewis and Clark lived in for much of their time, is inconceivable. Very much the view of an armchair adventurer. An armchair academic. He refrains from making commentary.  

'Though,' Nicholas sighs with relief once they find foot holds that are not four inches deep in mud and extract their feet onto firm ground. 'I will confess I could go for a steak pie and an ale right about now.'

'I share your enthusiasm for pie and ale,' Arthur agrees. 'If only we could find our companions.'

'We did follow the tracks Joseph left for us, didn't we?'

'Yes, carefully too.'

'They would have done the same, surely?'

'I would think so. Bonaparte, Napoleon, isn't daft. He'd have them turning around and coming back for us. We all would have run into each other though I swear this bog moved since the last time we were here.'

Biddle laughs at this suggestion. Arthur stares. Biddle pauses. 'Oh, you're serious.'

'Things in the world are changing and not for the better, in my book.'

'Change can be good.'

'In small increments over a very long period of time. In general, I disagree with change for the sake of change. If things are not broken we ought not try and fix them.'

'Well, each man delights in the position that suits best his current life. But let us continue to try and find our friends.'

Arthur frowns and wonders if he has been insulted. Trust an American to make such an argument. Also, trust an American to also spend the last three hours discussing the merits of classic writers on the foundation of new governance. Americans and Frenchmen. Bonaparte, Arthur sighs in defeat, is similar. But it is different coming from him. There is always this sense of irony whereas this Mr. Biddle is earnest.

'How do you find the former emperor?' Nicholas asks as they continue along the marked path. 'I saw his coronation. It was spectacular.'

'I'm sure it was a spectacle. He is a bit of a showman the way all politicians are.' Arthur falters for a moment realizing that he, himself, is now a politician and not just a military man. But he considers his line as Master of the Ordnance (and detested Minister of Occult Affairs) different. It is still primarily military. He is able to speak bluntly and be forgiven. 'He is all right.'

'I was surprised to see you both getting along. I wouldn't have fathomed it.'

'Circumstances outside my control made it thus. We were forced to work together on a dealing of a similarly occult nature as this, including a shifting forest, and came to better understand each other.'

'I hear he is a good friend. How does it go, the difficulty is not so great to die for a friend as to find a friend worth dying for.'

'I wouldn't go that far regarding Bonaparte,' Arthur replies with some feeling. He dislikes when people dig into their friendship, relationship, whatever word there is there for it. This forced-by-circumstances-but-not-unpleasant thing.

It is with these thoughts at the top of his mind that they veritably run into the Bonaparte brothers. Both are all hugs and evidently beyond pleased to have found their missing compatriots.

'You are all right?' Napoleon asks squeezing Arthur's shoulder. 'You didn't run into anything?' A glance down. 'Other than the bog, that is.'

'Oh yes, Mr. Biddle and I had a fine time with this run around. I had half of the Odyssey quoted at me. And some Ovid to mix it up.'

'I am glad you are friends.'

'And you?'

Napoleon glances at Joseph who shrugs. He says, 'we had a bit of an adventure.'

Arthur says that he is not surprised. Things usually go a little pear-shaped when Napoleon is involved. Napoleon, taking up Arthur's arm, says that Joseph can tell it all. It is more his story, after all. Joseph's expression is first cautious then warm and the story unwinds as they make their way from the forest.

Standing between field and pine trees, that marginal unclaimed space between two worlds, Arthur asks, 'so why didn't you shoot it? That was the entire point.'

Joseph thinks for a moment. There is a gentle breeze, an evening sun, clouds like a painting. 'I felt bad for it,' he finally says. 'I felt like it has already lost many things and who are we to take away its life? I normally wouldn't, but there was something so distinctly knowable in its eyes. When you looked at it, it was as if a part of yourself was staring back. A part that has been thrown away, pushed back and out of your mind and I did not wish to destroy it completely.'  

Napoleon adds, quietly, 'Anyway, a wise man once said that there is some audacity in kindness.'

Part VI to come. 

[clubakashi]

Selfship Derp edition :3

Akashi Cam

            The start of the new school year has arrived. This means new classes, new teachers, and inevitably new students. The sight of the cherry blossoms blooming is rather pleasant to say the least. It feels like a fresh start, something I was secretly hoping for after what happened last year. When my second personality took over, time went by in a blur of distorted colors. When I swapped back, I knew exactly where I was and who I was, yet it felt like I didn’t live the past couple years. There is no point in changing my ways now, the best I can do is alter my attitude towards people.

When I arrive at school, the first thing I notice is a new student. Her uniform is lopsided on her small figure, and she looks completely lost. Her long copper hair is disheveled and getting caught in the straps of her bag. Said bag leaves red marks on her pale skin as it shifts with her movements. I’ve never seen someone so…unorganized at this school. Before I can attempt to approach her, she runs off towards who knows where. I shake my head as I continue my trek into the building, heading straight for my new classroom, which is easy to find. I take a seat in the same spot as my old class. Taking in the new room, I see very little difference from last year. I check to confirm the amount of time left before class starts. As always, I’m 30 minutes early. Nothing but peace and quiet, which is my preferred environment when I read.

After about 5 minutes of silence, I hear a strange thud outside in the hall. I mark my spot to investigate the source, finding the new girl from earlier trying to fix the back of a picture. “I didn’t even know these could break.” She mutters, her hazel hues concentrating on the broken piece that kept the picture frame up. I watch silently as her hands work quickly to fix and return the frame to its proper place. Once it is up, she takes a small, yellow, sticky note and quickly writes. Caution, back needs to be fixed! Leaving the note on the wall, she continues on her way. I found my earlier impressions of her appearance to be misguided until I hear her mutter. “Wait…where was I going again?”

By the time I return to my seat, I could see more students walking through the gate. By the time I put my book away, the classroom is nearly full. Most of the students chat with old friends about their break and what they did. Once the teacher enters the room, everyone goes quiet and takes their seat. Our new teacher is a young lady with a look that means business. “Alright everyone, before I take role, we have a new student joining us. Please give her a warm welcome.” She sounds rather bored as the door opens, revealing the new girl once again. Her uniform is fixed, as well as her hair. Her hazel eyes dart around nervously as she stands in front of the class.

“Hello I’m Yumi Tachibana. I-I mean Tachibana Yumi! Nice to meet you!” Her voice is tight with nervous energy causing it to hit a volume akin to shouting.

The teacher covers her ears. “Indoor voice, Tachibana. Indoor voice.”

“S-Sorry,” she shuffles to the empty desk in front of me and sits down. The teacher calls roll for the rest of us before starting the usual beginning of the new school year spiel. I found myself staring at Tachibana-san, rather than listening to the disinterested teacher. She is a bit of a mystery at the moment. Though it is safe to say, I enjoy a good mystery.

When the bell rings for break, many of the students approach Tachibana-san to bombard her with questions. I listen in on her answers, learning that she is from Japan, but she was abroad in America for a while. She is the daughter of a well-known architect and home maker. Not much else is said, because the teacher yells at them to stop being loud. Something is bothering me though, I’ve heard her name somewhere else before. Strangely enough, it was while I was back home. I didn’t hear many of the details, only her name. Something tells me my father had plans for the near future.

The rest of the day is relatively uneventful. Until I get home. “Welcome home young master.” My butler greets me at the door, like normal.

“Thank you,” he takes my bag and school jacket as I slide my shoes off. “Any news of when my father will return?”

“He should be arriving very soon, young master.”

“Are there any changes to my evening agenda?”

“Yes sir, your father arranged a dinner party with a potential business partner and has requested your presence.”

“Tonight? That is quite sudden…”  I talk as we walk towards my room.

“Indeed, but from the sounds of it, tonight was one of the few this month that the guest had to spare.”

“I see…I shall prepare for the party, when will the guests arrive?”

“In about 20 minutes sir.” I stop my movements and stare at the elderly man.

“I must request you inform me of such events 24 hours in advanced in the future.”

“Yes sir, my apologies.” He bows as I enter my room to swiftly prepare for their arrival. I quickly shower and go to my wardrobe to change when I hear my door open.

“This doesn’t look like the restroom…” One glance my direction and her face is on fire. “S-SORRY!” She panics and attempts to slam the door, smacking her face right into the hard planks of wood. She yelps in pain before closing it properly. I blink, not sure how to respond to the sudden intrusion. I can hear chatter outside the door as I change into my typical dining attire. Once I am fully clothed, I open the door to find a familiar face and a not so familiar face. The latter a male helping the girl from earlier with the bruise forming on her cheek. She notices me and hides behind the tall man. He turns and gives me an apologetic look.

“Hello, you must be Akashi-san’s son, yes?” The man is rather tall, with short, olive brown hair, and green eyes. “I must apologize, my daughter gets turned around easily in new places.” I look to see said girl peeking out with a light blush on her cheeks.

“It’s alright, this house is not the easiest to navigate.” I smile politely, “are you the guests we are hosting this evening?”

“Yes, I’m Makoto Tachibana.” He holds his hand out, which I shake as I introduce myself. “And this is my daughter Yumi.”

“Good, I see you have already met our guests.” I freeze up a little at the sound of my father’s voice. “Tachibana, I’m glad you could make it tonight.” The two of them walk away to start talking business, leaving Yumi and I alone. She fidgets with her dress, staring off to the side, waiting until the two adults are out of ear shot.

“Your dad is scary,” she states bluntly. I do a double take before chuckling into my hand.

“Beg pardon?” I look up to find her much closer.

“He is spooky, so different from my dad. I’m Yumi Tachibana by the way.” She extends her hand.

“I know, I’m in your class.” I smile politely again. “Oh right! You sit behind me.” She bonks her head with her hand.

“Seijuro!” I hear my father calling me from the other room.

“Shall we?” I extend my hand, allowing her to walk ahead of me. She walks with a sort of spring in her step, her coral high-low dress bouncing behind her. We reach the dining room and I pull her chair out for her. She smiles at me as she takes her seat. I take my own and listen to the fathers talk business. I find nothing unusual with their conversation, until they bring up the topic of arrangements.

“Could we perhaps discuss this in another room…?” Tachibana seems uncomfortable about the topic in front of Yumi.

“Certainly, we can discuss it in my study over some drinks.” I watch as my father puts on his forced friendly air.

“Thank you,” Tachibana smiles, it is the most genuine smile I have ever seen on a person in the business world. I question why he would be uncomfortable talking about that in front of us. What was the point of bringing his daughter if he didn’t want her hearing about this?

Once we finish eating, they leave for fathers study, leaving Yumi alone with me. “Do you have any pets?” She asks out of the blue.

“Does a horse count?”

“You have a HORSE!?” She is very excited by this, it’s strangely cute.

“Yes, would you like to meet him?” I ask rising from the table, the excited girl already standing before I can leave my chair. “Yes, please!” I lead her to the exit that is closest to the stables. “I must warn you, he is rather skittish around strangers.” I open the stable doors, a long gasp escaping her lips as she takes in the sight. “Tachibana-san, meet Yukimaru.” She approaches cautiously, trying not to startle the white horse. He snorts, but doesn’t avoid her now outstretched hand. I can’t help smiling at how excited she is just to pet the animal.

“Is this a show horse, or just for riding?” She asks, stroking Yukimaru’s neck gently.

“Riding, one of my few pass times that my father doesn’t dictate.”

“He controls what you can do in your free time?” She looks slightly appalled.

“Yes, he has been that way my whole life. I’m guessing your father doesn’t do that?”

“He never has, he is very lax about most things I do. My mom on the other hand…never mind, what else do you do?” She asks, thankfully dodging the topic of mothers. We discuss various topics of interest sitting outside the stable. I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed talking to someone. The sun is long gone by the time our fathers return, both a little tipsy.

“Come on Yumi, can’t keep your mother waiting.” She stands up, dusting off her skirt, “see you tomorrow Akashi-kun.” I wave as she leaves with her father, my usual demeanor returning once it was just me and my father.

“Seijuro, do you know what we were discussing?” I nod, knowing full well what arrangements they were discussing. “Good, so until further notice you will be engaged to Tachibana’s daughter. Don’t screw this up.” He retires to his room after that, leaving me with my thoughts. I did enjoy talking with her, but arranged marriages have never sat well with me, mostly because they never last more than a few months. To be fair, I never put much effort behind them anyways. Although…something told me I would give this one my full attention.

            ~Time Skip~

I arrive at the school earlier than usual for a student council meeting. When I finish, I go straight to the classroom to find Tachibana sitting in her seat. She smiles and waves at me, I find myself waving back without thinking. Taking my seat, I pull my book out to read before class starts. She looks around the room idly, possibly confused by my lack of greeting. I remain silent until she pulls my bookmark from its place. I raise an eyebrow at her. “Can I help you?”

“This bookmark is boring.” She states, flipping the stiff paper in her hand. It is totally blank and does its job, so I saw no need to decorate it. She turns around and pulls out a pencil bag full of colorful pens. I shake my head and continue reading, leaving her to her own devices. About five minutes before class starts, she returns it. The bookmark is now covered in colorful, cute designs. “There, now it’s not boring,” she smiles, other students giving her a confused look. I can hear some of them murmur, asking how she can approach me so casually, or how I can allow her to look me in the eye, or how is she not scared of me. Unlike them, I actually enjoy her presence, it’s strangely calming. The murmurs stop when the teacher walks in. Class goes by without a hitch, before I even realize it, the day has ended. Which meant basketball practice.

“Tachibana-san, do you like basketball?” I ask as she packs her bag.

“It’s one of the few sports I can follow, soooo yes.” She looks up at me curiously.

“I have practice, would you like to watch?” She hums in thought before nodding. She follows me to the gym, hiding a little when she sees the other players.

“Oh? Sei-chan! I was wondering when you would show up.” Reo is the first to greet me as I enter the gym, the others turning in my direction.

“Oh? Who is your friend?” Kotaro asks, pointing to Tachibana.

“Classmate, I invited her to watch.” I look to the coach for confirmation.

“As long as she doesn’t cause a distraction.” I nod and show her to a good spot. I am unsure if she has been notified of our engagement, so I was going to wait until we are in a more private setting to ask. I go to change, leaving her for a few minutes. When I return, she is trying to shoot a basket while the others start their warm ups. She misses another shot and pouts, “I can’t get it in.”

“Try again later, we need to get to started warming up too.” Reo states, taking the ball from her.

“Okay,” she goes to her spot again and pulls something from her bag. It looks like a game device. Makes me wonder what she is playing.

Once practice is over, we all go to get cleaned up and changed. I am quick so as to avoid keeping her waiting. She is furiously tapping at her device, laser focused on whatever she was playing. “Shall I escort you home?” I ask, “Or would you like another shot at the hoop?” She doesn’t respond for a long moment before throwing her arms up.

“FINALLY!” She yells, pushing a couple more buttons. “Sorry, I have been stuck on that level for the past two and a half weeks.” She grins, storing the device away. “I should probably get home though. Dad gets worried if I’m not home by dark.” I nod and wait for her to collect everything. My teammates watch from a distance, I can hear someone ask if she is my girlfriend as we leave. I walk with her, waiting till no one was around to ask.

“Are you aware of our arrangement?” I glance at her from the side. She looks confused “arrangement?” I choose my words carefully before continuing. “My father informed me we are to be engaged…” I wait for her reaction, expecting the worse.

“Oh! That arrangement, yea my dad told me about that.”

“How do you feel about it?” Normally I wouldn’t care to ask, but I felt the need to ask.

“Well…it would probably bother me more, if my dad had kept it secret…but we decided a while ago to do this sort of thing.”

“Why?” She looks away, stirring my curiosity.

“Reasons…”

“I see, well if you don’t want to go through with it, I understand.”

“What if I do…?” I look at her fully to find her cheeks are bright pink.

“Pardon?”

“What if I want to go through with the arrangement…?” I think about her question carefully for a solid minute.

“I am willing to give it a try if you are.” I feel a strange heat creep up my cheeks.

“Does this mean we are dating now?” I chuckle, “Yes this means we are dating.” She smiles, causing a warm sensation in my chest. This is certainly Tachibana’s daughter with that genuine smile.

“My first boyfriend ever after being in my new school for two days. That has to be a record somewhere.” She turns, walking backwards, the smile still present as she giggles.

“First? I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

“Yup, I mean I’ve met up with other people, but none of them met my dad’s standards.”

“What about yours?” I ask, curious to know why I made the cut.

“I was able to hold a conversation, you didn’t get weird about me walking in on you in a towel, and you were a gentleman. I say you meet mine.”

“Interesting,” I smile a little at the simplicity.

“What about you?”

“Ask me again later,” I smirk when her face contorts to one of confusion. “We have arrived,” I point to the name plate, earning a giggle from her.

“Oh, then I will ask again tomorrow.” She dashes up the little path leading to her front door, waving as she enters the door. I wave back, heading for home myself. I mull over her question, since I was unsure as to why I was taking such a liking to her. If I were to go off my past preferences, I would say she doesn’t meet my standards at all. She isn’t very elegant, and while she is well mannered, she has such a strange air about her that I would have never pinned her as someone from higher society. I am greeted by my butler, like normal, my father being away on a business trip again. My mind still tries to pin what was so different about her.

“Is something wrong young master?” I shake my head, walking straight to my room for the night.

            ~Mini Time Skip~

Arriving at my normal time, I am pleasantly surprised when I find Yumi waiting for me at the entrance. “Good morning Tachibana-san,” I greet with a small smile.

“Morning Akashi-kun,” she meets me half way and walks with me to the classroom. “Do you have an answer?” I sit down and rest my chin against my hand.

“First, riddle me this. Why are you so interesting?” She looks taken aback by my question.

“Well—I guess it’s…I’m a derp!” She replies awkwardly.

“What?” I have to clear my throat when a chuckle catches in it. “I’ve never heard such a term before.”

“Probably means you’ve never met one.”

“Until now,” I smirk at the light blush creeping up on her cheeks. She rubs her cheeks, trying to cover it up. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“Well, when asked my type of woman, I would normally say an elegant woman…someone my father would approve of, but I am more interested in someone like you.” Her cheeks flare up, the red hue reaching her ears.

“You are quite the smooth talker, you smoothie.” She looks off to the side as I laugh, my interest in her increasing every time she talks. I can definitely get behind this arrangement. 

(I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you for allowing me to use your drabble. I really enjoy your blog :3 This is only the first two chapters merged into one long one. I can send more if you want, but for the sake of self ship month I only present the first two chapters at this time. Okay I will stop rambling now.)

submitted by @rantingashotaku