#made me feel all gooey but also productive

[spatterdots]

I’m glad the sun is coming back, I missed her a lot. Like a piece of me is back that I lose during the cloudy and dark days of winter. I remember why I put my bed near the windows in the first place.

[potatoofdefiance]

My two cents and a rant on the allegations and Good Omens

(I will probably regret this later)

This has been eating at me for a while now, ever since the news broke that Neil Gaiman was a sex pest (see infamous TERF-adjacent podcast by Tortoise media) and I have been consciously and unconsciously ruminating over it for weeks now, so here goes.

I think the news of Neil Gaiman hit me harder than I was expecting, and certainly harder than I would have liked.

I didn’t (and certainly do not now) consider myself a “true fan”. I was never a hard-core fan, one that goes to signings or book fairs or cons to meet my favourite author. Partly because I never latched that much on any of the authors of the books or movies I loved, and partly (maybe for the best now that I think about it) because I never had the money, or wasn’t located in a geographically favored area. Meaning I never lived anywhere near wherever events with Neil Gaiman were happening.

So, with all this in mind, how is it that the news managed to hit me so hard?

I thought (read: ruminated) about it, and I think it is because of Good Omens. And the latest times. In my life, and I think a good chunk of other people’s lives too, these last few years have been a roller-coaster. You choose which particular scenario the roller-coaster is set into; mine is on fire, running through a sea of shit and we are being slapped by gooey flaming eels hard in the face.

Maybe someone might enjoy this. That someone isn’t me.

But the point is: I have been struggling. With my life, with a mental health condition, with the world and my place in it.

Enter Good Omens. In an effort to actively expose myself to “nice” stuff, stuff that would, if not make me feel better, at least make me laugh, I started tapping more into the fandom.

I’m not a fandom person. Again, never latched onto anything that had a fandom big enough (where are the Ann Halam fans? No one is making cosplays of Sloe from Siberia, are they?).

But with Good Omens, it seemed perfect for me. I wasn’t invested so much, it didn’t make me feel like I was “lacking” something in order to be part of it. I just felt like I didn’t care enough to really be vulnerable to it, I felt like it could have been a nice innocuous hobby.

But that’s the point. Thinking it was innocuous made me let down my guard enough to actually fall in love with the fandom. Fall in love with those two weirdos of characters (which by the way, I’ll say this now: I think Aziraphale and Crowley as portrayed in the series are more a product of fans and Tennant and Sheen than they are a product of Gaiman and Pratchett. And this is not a bad thing per se, I think, but let’s give credit where credit is due).

And let me be clear: I gained so so much from joining the fandom. It has positively affected so many seemingly unrelated parts of my life, and I’m so grateful to so many kind strangers on the internet who have shared such wholesome art with me, and have gifted me so much, that even putting it into words is simply not enough to explain all of it.

And one of the results of this “wave of wholesomeness” is I also started following Gaiman more closely.

Like so many, I loved Coraline. Gaiman seemed a genuinely nice person. An old guy who had wisdom to share, and who seemed to be fascinatingly non-stereotypical? If that makes sense. What I mean is that he was everything my father warned me against. A goth, weird, a writer therefore an artist (and in my family we know artists are fools who end up on the street jobless and homeless). And yet, to me now he seemed such a normal guy. Yes maybe someone who enjoyed that fashion style, but otherwise very far away from the usual excess of a rockstar. Of course I was too young when he was at the peak of his rockstar years. English is not my first language, and when he was 40 I was in elementary school and just learning about him, and you know, they do not write about his fans passing out at signings or his groupies on the back cover of children’s books.

What I mean is that I didn’t have access to all the media and information about him.

So I start seemingly connecting to this writer, whose works I have enjoyed for the most part, and who seems such a nice guy in how he interacts with his fans and people in general. Such an inoffensive, kind person. And kind seemingly to everyone.

I started liking him. To the point where I remember telling my partner: you know, Neil Gaiman is someone I’d take a coffee with (which in Italian culture is one of the greatest honors one can give you. Having a coffee while sitting at a café and chat for hours is what good friends do).

So, in my mind he had a special place now. He was someone I started to admire and look up to.

And this is, I think, where it hurts. It hurts because even if I wasn’t personally victimized, I never met him, he never acted creepy with me, he doesn’t even know me, it still felt like I, as part of the fandom, had been used for his clout. And also, it hurts to feel like someone you trusted because of how they presented themselves has lied to you.

And on top of that: it is so fucking disrespectful. The fact he thought he could get away with it. With hurting so many people (one is one too many by the way), and causing so much pain, while also enjoying crowds of adoring fans, both online and in person.

I find it personally difficult to reconcile my love of the GO fandom with all of this right now. And I think it’s for a number of reasons.

Firstly because the silence of institutions and people around these facts has opened some old wounds and made me angry again towards a system that I perceive as hostile towards me and people like me who might be vulnerable.

What I mean is: I know that Gaiman is a powerful person, and a lot of people need to bring money home and are tied to contracts and what not (yeah I’m looking at our favorite two male presenting british actors here) and I understand it. I do. And this is exactly why this stuff makes me angry again. Angry at the whole shitty system we live in, where if you happen to be in some kind of power imbalance you might end up having to eat shit and shut up while witnessing violence against you or others and not being able to utter a word about it. This sucks. It makes me angry. It makes me angry that Michael Sheen, someone I like to believe would be among the first to shout “I BELIEVE THE VICTIMS” if he was talking to friends at a bar, likely has to shut up and play nicely because Darth Amazon has some fucking clause written in Braille somewhere that says he has to sacrifice his firstborn if he ever dares to suggest he doesn’t like anyone related to the franchise.

It makes me soooo angry that we stay in the dark, and we only know from those people who are brave, and powerful enough to speak up about something that (allegedly) has been known for fucking years in the writing community. That this person was a creep. That he was treating people, mainly women and non-binary folks, if not bad, at least poorly.

And you know, this makes me even more angry because I have been in such shitty situations too! I was a victim of a system where exploitation and borderline abuse were normalized in a work setting.

And it wakes something deep in me to read that “it was an open secret bla bla bla” and again: I understand why people set up whisper networks instead of taking these giants down. I understand it. It still makes me angry because I simply do not want to live in such systems. Systems where I’m either the sacrificial lamb or I’m the one tying it on the table, or handing the axe over to the butcher, or a witness who has no power to stop the suffering.

I don’t want to live in such a system. But I have to. In my real life. I have to put up with so much shit sometimes, shit that makes me feel like I cannot stand up for my values because hey, I need to pay the bills too. And Good Omens was one of those few things where I could escape a bit into an alternative reality, where everything could be a bit better.

And I’m sure the fandom is still like this for most of the fans. I have witnessed first-hand how supportive and cheerful this fandom can be.

For me though, it still makes me think of all this...tsunami of shit.

I want to be able to enjoy the silly fanart, the memes, the wait for season 3 again. But I can’t. I can’t because my brain does not work like that. Good Omens still means Neil Gaiman too much to me. And I cannot go around talking cheerfully about Good Omens while feeling like I’m feeding into the clout of someone who used their power to coerce vulnerable people. Because (and I might be wrong) it feels like the message I’m sending is: my comfort show/book is more important than your pain or your life. And I can’t. This is not the truth.

I feel for the victims. Probably I feel even more than it would be healthy for me, or normal. But I don’t know, I feel like I connect to them. Maybe because I’ve been a victim of abuse perpetrated in clear power-imbalanced relationships, or because I felt like nobody cared about me and my wellbeing for so long, that eventually I stopped caring too.

And it is bad. It’s dehumanizing to a point where you really start believing you don’t matter. Your wellbeing doesn’t matter. There are more important things.

Ok so, I don’t want the victims, the survivors, to feel like this. They matter. They matter to me because if there’s one thing that is going to re-ignate the sacred fire of defiance in me is being able to stop this self-feeding cycle of self-loathing and misery. You matter. We matter. Vulnerable people who have been hurt matter to me. If there is one thing we can do to resist these systems of oppression and these people who abuse their power, that thing is believing that the people they hurt matter. If not more, at least as much as them.

And the way I show myself and others that the victims and their lives matter to me is by distancing myself from Neil Gaiman and his works, at least for now.

I feel bad for people who might have found themselves unwillingly tied to all of this. I feel bad for Sheen and Tennant, for all the wonderful artists and craft-people who have put so much of their work and love in Good Omens and I don’t want to let them down.

My two cents are that season 3 will not be canceled if they see there’s enough traction, and definitely won’t be canceled unless fans start a crusade against it, which won’t happen most likely.

The fandom loves Tennant and Sheen too much, and these are too much nice people to really hold a grudge against them, so I don’t think it will be canceled.

I’m afraid we (I say “we” meaning everyone who loves Good Omens) will be “held hostage” by Gaiman in the sense that he knows season 3 is not going to happen without him, so it’s either “we” or the majority of “we” behave, or it’s not going to happen. Which again, I don’t think he would lose the opportunity to make some money, and he also has contract duties to fulfill, but it still is worth it for him to try to leverage his power.

I wanted to end this rant on a positive note, somehow. But I don't know exactly what to say. Recently one of the things that has brought me laughs and joy has been the Channel 4 series “We are Lady Parts”.

In one of the episodes they quote a very beautiful poem, which came back to mind when I was listening to Claire (the latest woman who has come forward with allegations) on the “Am I Broken” podcast.

The poem is Speak by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, I will paste the version from the show, because I think it’s very powerful and beautiful.

Speak, for your two lips are free Speak, for your tongue is still your own This straight body still is yours. Speak, your life is still your own.

See how in the blacksmith’s forge flames leap high and steel glows red, padlocks opening wide their jaws. Every chain’s embrace outspread.

Time enough is this brief hour Until body and tongue lie dead. Speak, for truth is living yet. Speak, whatever must be said.

[turtlesocksv2]

Kinnporsche 12 Rewatch Thoughts

God, Chay not going through with the university interview is fucking heartbreaking. But if I was Porsche I would kick his ass, my god given right as Older Sibling. Porsche spent years busting his ass off working at the bar to give Chay the opportunity at a better life, is encouraging him to go to music school which is one of the worst fields re: actually making any money, and JOINED THE GODDAMN MAFIA so that Chay could keep his house and go to school and this ungrateful little shit! just throws it away! because he's ~sad about a boy~! NOT IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. Chay would be suplexed through a table if I was his older sibling. (yes yes i know it's more complicated than that and Chay is going through a lot! but my older sibling rage does not care for logic or reason, here)

I know Porsche and Pete are Besties but Porsche and Arm have such a solid friendship. Arm is his Bro. Arm is Team Porsche. They have secret codes about stalking Kinn for jealousy reasons. Arm asks Zero questions. Code Red?! Here is your access to all our surveillance tech, Porsche! but also, Porsche really needs to learn not to listen in to conversations when he's not ready to hear them.

Just Normal Kidnapping Things - reading horoscope books with your kidnappers pet hedgehog and making fun of/psychoanalyzing your kidnapper by telling him that he is sensitive and needs love. Hmmm, also I think Vegas knows here that something is wrong with Khun Spikes. Not how serious it is, but that something is Off.

Kinn admits that Korn was the one really pushing for him to get Porsche to work for them by any means necessary and Porsche asks THE burning question: Why Him? Kinn offers to help Porsche get the answers, but Porsche realizes that Kinn can't help him, not really. Because asking the questions Porsche really wants answered is going to involve going against Kinn's dad. And Kinn is the wrong Theerapanyakul for that. (ask Tankhun, porsche! Tankhun could probably get you the answers! The tragedy that no one realizes how smart Tankhun is.)

Every time Korn opens his mouth in this scene:

just straight up lying! all the time! When Porsche storms out and Kinn gives his dad the "really? you just fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me i can't believe you." look, that is not enough!

Ok so I absolutely believe the meta that Khun Spikes died while Pete was asleep and Vegas was just waiting for him to wake up so that he could stage Pete's 'escape'. He made sure Pete knew there were no guards, he left the key, the shirt. it was on purpose. the clues are all there. He had one pet die in that fucking safehouse and didn't want another. But Pete can't bring himself to leave when he sees how sad Vegas is. After they bury Khun Spikes, Vegas walks away from Pete, he doesn't even look back. He's letting Pete go!!! But Pete chooses to stay!

RIP Khun Spikes. King. Legend. Your legacy lives on.

You know, i didn't notice the first time through, but the cinematography and art direction in the VegasPete Fuck Nasty bondage chain sex is like...really unsettling. with the music and the quick cuts and everything. these are not two healthy individuals making smart choices and I love that for them. glad it works out for them in the end.

aaaaaand we immediately go to Bread Product Placement. fucking love Farmhouse Breads for greenlighting the absolutely batshit insane product placement. them and Deutsche Bank.

Kinn is such a schmoopy, gooey bastard when he's in love. "i could live anywhere as long as it's with you" Korn is now terrified that Kinn is gonna pull a Nampheung and run off with a Kittisawat Boy.

here we go, the really fucking weird Tay-Porsche conversation where Tay says that Time doesn't really love him and it's not like it is with KinnPorsche. what an absolutely batshit weird thread that's just vaguely in the background. i have to know what was cut for time/pacing. also, I think Tay might have had feelings for Kinn at some point and even if he's not currently, like, in love with Kinn there's still a light "Kinn would treat me better than Time does :(" energy. and he's right! Kinn would treat him better than Time does! Dump Time's fickle ass! When Porsche tells Tay that he and Kinn are both out of the business now, Tay gets this look on his face like:

And of course Korn can sense that Kinn is happy and has to crash the party and ruin it. (I do like how in tune Tay and Time were here, they've been Kinn's friends long enough to realize it's about to go down and they should leave.)

I do have to wonder what that dude did to piss Korn off that he gave Porsche his picture and address and said "this is the man that killed your parents. have fun :)" He had to know there was the possibility that Porsche would go through with it. just like there was a possibility that he wouldn't. so did korn care if this guy dies? does he die a few weeks later in a mysterious accident anyway? HMMMM. Anyway, Porsche choosing not to kill the guy is such an important moment. We're on a Porsche Corruption Arc but he's not that far gone.

Chan just looms in the background and i am dying to know what he knows. what he thinks. he's been korn's right hand man and closest bodyguard for so long. he must know so much.

Kim realizing just how much he fucked up with Chay is hilarious. And Chay trying to have his post-breakup rebellion is even funnier. sir, you are a kitten you do not drink or do drugs or have dyed hair.

Uncle Thee is a dick for extorting Porsche, but you know what, Stopped Clocks and all that. He's right to tell Porsche not to trust Korn. I do wonder if he knows exactly what happened back then or if he's just bullshitting.

[0ystercatcher]

finally the other topic thats been on my mind. the food. oohhh the food. enormous post warning. i hope to god the read more works.

ok for starters. its good. i cant complain. variety and spread were pretty great (goes so hard to have diaspora from all over the world in your country you literally can get anything if you know where to look), quality was good, portions are INCREDIBLY generous even considering price most of the time, and price is....fine. i hated it bc again exchange rates fucked me over but i didnt see anything... outrageous anywhere we went to OTHER than the baseball game but that i expected and was prepared for so i didnt like, insta vomit when i saw the menu. i didnt try nearly everything i wanted to but, well, i have limited space in my tummy.

there were... some questionable items. at the store. like, ham with cheese inside it that looked like it had some kind of pox. all sorts of um. wrong looking. gooey cheese products. all very yellow and with a scary toxic look to them. i did eat the cheetos tho they were fine and acceptably orange.

like... im sorry. this isnt ok. this shouldnt exist. this is wrong.

there were also all sorts of what id consider, niche? not very high circulation? products. that looked interesting. also cheeses, this time delicious and amazing (im still so pissed i left the horseradish cheddar i wanted to bring home in ks fridge), great great snacks, treats of all sorts (some good some eh?), all kinds of baking ingredients and cooking ingredients, so many dry spices and powders and seasonings. asian ingredients and mexican ingredients seemed greatly favored which tbh was appreciated bc there was stuff id never seen before that got me very curious + i found my fav mexican candy which i missed. also, chicken is p cheap over there, i was surprised its basically as cheap as it is here, maybe slightly cheaper even. all in all, tbh, you can eat pretty well buying fairly cheap and healthy items with...not many problems. like...a big big bag of kale was like...4 usd. thats so good. chicken and tuna and sardines were cheap. pasta is cheap as hell as it is everywhere. veggies and fruit are kind of hit or miss but i think thats somewhat seasonal as it is everywhere. canned food is cheaper there too?? not bad at all. next time i want to go to a costco and see how it goes to buy stuff in bulk, it looks promising.

idk where im going w this post so now im just gonna list the memorable meals or treats or ingredients i sampled/had over there (inconsistent list bc some are homemade meals made by moi + k but whatever) and rate them. i cant put these on a normal list bc im breaking the character limit so please bear with my horrible formatting.

baseball game hotdog: 7/10 disappointingly small for the...10? 11? usd it cost. nice mustard and onions on top. NO MAYO. ketchup and relish were Fine. at least 2-3 points of the score are just the fact it was a true baseball hotdog and my first one at that. the experience is very important for this one. i cherished that more than most other things in this "meal" so id feel bad rating it lower.

baseball garlicky fries: 8/10. again 3 points for the experience and novelty of it being baseball food. i think they were 9 dollars. ok portion. CRAZY AMNTS OF GARLIC YUM. pretty tasty. NO MAYO THO!!

double cheese burger + fries + onion rings + peanut butter milkshake: 10/10. true american meal. enormous burger. couldnt finish anything other than the milkshake and k helped w that + i was about to genuinely frow up by the time i tried the last spoonful of it. the whole thing i think was about 25-30? usd each? i dont even care. it was delicious, i think the mayo was made by the restaurant itself, it was so good. beef patties were great. vegetables were great. pickles were really good. gooey ass american cheese was great. fries were crazy. onion rings were perfect. just delicious. will go again next time im there.

pho + spring rolls: 5.5/10. not bad at all. but i think pho was greatly overhyped. i ordered it w tendon and tripe which was nice to have in the us bc i know they dont like organ meats at all. it was ok. its one of those soups that i guess gets better kinda by the end when its all gotten mixed up and nicely flavored. ive had better soups though. sorry i fumbled the tip.

sushi: 8/10. nice! didnt try even close to all the options but the eel was DELICIOUS + the maki sushi was good and, honestly, very well portioned. i dont like when the maki sushi is huge esp when im trying to sample many types. and some of the salads and soups....hell yes. good price! comparable to nice sushi places here, i didnt feel it was scandalous. im giving it an 8 bc it was tasty as fuck, but i do have a comment on this. i think the us does the same thing we do which is, they shove a bunch of ingredients into maki sushi to make new ones with a lot of shit in them and im not the biggest fan of that so i didnt order those. i like simple sushi. the ones i ordered were really good tho. 8/10 for those, i dont think ill order the other ones unless i was feeling suuuper experimental. same as it ever was.

deluxe kraft mac and cheese, orig cheddar: 5/10 without adding anything to it, solid 6 with better cheese + bbq sauced hot dog in it. see we had just watched the jerma reviews mac and cheese video and we happened to find this at the store so obviously we had to try it. it was just normal mac and cheese. i think american kraft has a stronger and kinda. nastier. cheese flavor in it. so we added real cheese and other things and it was better. solid dinner.

mcdonalds: mcdonalds/mcdonalds. its mcds. it tastes the same everywhere apparently. it was fine. fresh fries were nice tho.

taco bell chicken quesadilla: 2/10. i dont really like taco bell and i kind of objected to this meal and only had a little bit. flavorful in weirdly wrong ways. not Offensive but, yknow, a strong I Would Prefer Not To. also, made me a little bloated even with lactaid to help me cope.

various food items at family meeting: 7/10. im not rating them individually there were too many, this is an average. the ones that stood out were: crispy crispy bacon for brekky. biscuits and gravy. funeral potatos? thats what they called it i think? the yogurt + fruit + maple syrup granola bowl and the smoked trout. i think this is because it was a family thing, but if not i guess it still applies? homemade american dishes are so fucking rich. im not sure i could stand eating like that every day. i know by the end of the weekend i was like.. i need normal salad. i need some rice. this cant go on forever. still, i enjoyed every dish i tried. tasty stuff!

sweet corn we roasted in a fire: 10/10 brother i love sweet corn and oonnhh hhn the butter on it. yea man. its good.

special coffee drink + bagel w cream cheese: 7/10. very generous bagel for like...under 3 usd. 3rd worlder ass price for the crazy amnt of cheese it had imho and like, i shared it with k and i was still very satisfied with the portion i got. the coffee drink was very nice. i have no idea what that woman put in it other than the 2 large espresso shots and ice i saw she added. tasty tho! and she was nice. sorry i was very bad at understanding your accent. i realized im still not at all used to that.

espresso + chocolate truffle: 9/10 just what i needed after the fish and chips feast. beautifully smooth coffee, good crema, smelled good, tasted good. great texture, good price. 8 usd for...2 espressos and 2 truffles. i think thats more than acceptable, esp in the highly touristy area we were in. the truffle itself i think was a little ordinary but paired so well w the coffee the whole thing was a win. lovely to have it next to the sea w my love after stuffing ourselves full w fish and chips. speaking of which.

fish (cod and calamari and shrimp) and chips + cider: 10/10 my god. my god. this rivals peruvian jalea. i never believed it would be possible. but it is. it was great. fresh out the fryer, pleasantly greasy but not excessively so. great flavor. great fish. nice portion. amazingggg cider and really nice tartar sauce. just what i needed after walking around for a couple hours. just a great fucking meal. will def go again if i can.

glazed? powdered? donuts? we got at the store? i dont remember the brand or name but i was curious so i grabbed a thing and k said they were pretty good: 2/10 meh. they were... whatever. i think i had one w breakfast and then i sort of gave up on them. kind of dry and too dense for a donut. maybe they were cake donuts? i dont know. i shouldnt have strayed from dunkin, im sorry dunkin. ill never let you down again.

salt vinegar chips: 10/10 one of those snacks i just. would compulsively buy if i lived there. like this would be my go to snack. they hurt the roof of my mouth but its worth it also i like the sourness bc it makes me pace myself a little.

normal ruffles: ruffles/ruffles. i like a good wavy potato chip. what can i say. i enjoyed them.

american bacon: 8/10. i understand why the us has crazy rates of cardiovascular disease. i get it. maybe its worth it. it gets one whole point solely bc of the crazy amnt of fat you can render out of it, bacon fat was Not Lacking while we cooked and i thank the bacon for this, because thats a great ingredient to have around imho.

tap water: 10/10. preddy good!

mexican limes: 2/10. im actively racist against these citrus fruits. so much flesh, no juice. they did their job and tasted Fine I Guess but they were still lame. peruvian lime or nothing baby.

fuji apples: 8/10. im fujiapplepilled. theyre nice. crispy. go well with peanut butter. yum! nice that they are grown there.

cheetos: 5/10. i had the puffs and the normal..crispy ones? non spicy bc i dont like the spicy ones. i was satisfied. theyre better than ours. still not the best snack but i was curious. bigger portion than im used to. i think i would simply not let children have them though.

beef hot dogs, from the store. in and without bun: 9/10 broooo americans are just good at these. they put like actual meat in them. theyre dense. theyre large. delicious stuff. versatile enough, reasonably priced. if this isnt their national pride it should be. wish i could have brought a pack home. my fam would love these.

some kind of mexican chorizo thing: 4/10. it was ok. k had this in the fridge when i got there? its like salchicha huachana but less good, less fresh, less colourful and less flavorful. it did what we needed it to do, i didnt dislike it. it was just. fine.

ranier beer: 7/10. yum! pleasant. slightly sweet. a fine drink for a warm sunny day. great with snacks or other treats.

pabst blue ribbon: 6/10. yum also! i liked rainier a little better tho.

the 2 ipas i had: 0/10. the only thing i had that i actively disliked. yuck. just nasty stuff.

wait i forgot

jeppsons malort: -1/10. @worldlytutor why the fuck did you buy that. that shit tasted like rat poison fr. throw that shit away rn if you still have it.

[lokisaurus]

"style is so different waaaaahhhhh it's worse now !!!!" IT IS NOT IT IS NOT IT IS NOT YOU ARE HEARING WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR ITS JUST CLEARER PRODUCTION its literally just clearer with a slight reverb on the guitar which IS PRESENT IN THE ORIGINAL what you're HEARING is somebody's fingers hitting the strings of the guitar GET A GRIP FOR THE LOVE OF BLONDIE

the ah ah ah ahs in New Romantics are not quieter, the backing track has just been mixed better to match the pitch of the vocals

ALL of 1989s instrumental tracks were touched up marginally, a few previously prerecorded backing tracks sound like they were redone with newer, more precise instrumentals AND Taylor's voice has changed so the audio mixing has been tweaked to incorporate her more mature timbre. the instrumentals are clearer and the synths are a bit more punchy to accentuate her supported tone - NOTICE how her higher notes don't sound as breathy or reedy.

I've been seething about this all day ....... everytime there's a re-record there are a million swifties who swear up and down that things are different therefore they are worse therefore favorite song is ruined but like ???????? no ?????????? go play around with mics for a couple hours, just go grab a copy of audacity and start messing around within the internal workings on a track and see how just a few tweaks can make a very plasticky album like 1989 (sv) turn into something more ...... effervescent almost....

HELL, go to guitar center or something and play the riff of your favorite prerecorded mix and notice how you'll get a slight staccato rhythm on the strings everytime you pluck. IT FEELS MORE NATURAL TO HEAR THE FINGERS ON THE STRINGS at least for me anyways

that is it that is all i just ........ I have Also """"""listened to these songs a million times""""""" and music production makes me all warm and gooey inside so I've studied it. I have HEARD bad albums, I've HEARD awful production, I've recreated disgusting mixes and ACCIDENTALLY MADE THEM WORSE, and I've also taken the blank space instrumental tracks and played that with my batshit pedal board just to see what a swollen pickle would do to the overall feel LET BLONDIE HAVE FUN IS WHAT IM SAYING

okay good night

[theharpermovieblog]

#HARPERSMOVIECOLLECTION

2023

THE BLOB CREATURE DOUBLE FEATURE

I re-watched The Blob (1958)

It struck me the other day what a weird and cheap idea the Blob is, but it's also an incredibly effective and terrifying idea. So I decided to watch both the original and the remake.

From outer space crash lands a meteor. Inside is a devastatingly dangerous gooey substance that slowly devours every living thing it touches.

A couple of things I noted about the original Blob. The first is the upbeat music during the opening credits, which in no way sets the mood for a horror film, but is weirdly fun. The second is our two teenage leads, played by Steve McQueen and Aneta Corsaut, are clearly too old for the roles. I looked it up and McQueen was 28 during production. But, fuck it, it's the 50's. Does that excuse make sense. Sort of, but not at all.

The movie gets into the action pretty quick. You could say it's a stereotypical beginning to a 1950's horror film, but for all I know the stereotype started here. Two kids at make out point see a meteor fall and chase after it. Before they get there, an old man pokes the meteor, discovers the carnivorous blob and it attaches to his hand.

When we see the progress the blob has made growing on the old man's hand, it's genuinely pretty gross looking for a 50's film. The film's main goal is for the audience to say "I don't want that thing on me" and they're pretty successful off the bat.

I had a decent time with this movie. A movie I haven't sat down and watched since I was a kid. I loved the whole 1950's style in all it's Technicolor glory, and as much as it's a pretty beat for beat old Sci-Fi/horror movie, it feels a tad unique.

Does the movie have flaws? Yeah of course. It's a cheap little scary movie and it's very of it's time. There are some cheesy special effects and some very obvious miniature work. But, there's an argument to be made that the film's flaws are part of it's charm. Also, not a lot seems to happen lol.

Steve McQueen is a huge saving grace. He can act, and that uplifts some of the slower moments.

It's a super short runtime and speeds along. It knows what it is, a popcorn flick for the kids, meant to separate them from their nickels. What it managed to do, while taking that pocket change, was to create a movie monster of great iconic value.

[mimiatmidnight]

So, twelve hours post, here is my first round of thoughts:

I will never recover from all the baby clips. NEVER. RECOVER.

Doria is the classiest, most dignified person in history. That poor woman deserves a medal for what she endured so strongly.

The producers did such a fantastic job of weaving the love-storytelling in with the historical discussions and the present-day narrative. And MAN what a love story. I really thought I had a good sense of them before, but I feel so different now. I see them and their love in a new light. Which, hey, isn't that the exact point of this whole thing? So, mission accomplished. I am completely warmed and enchanted.

I especially feel I understand so much more about who they were before each other. I love how dedicated the producers were to establishing Meghan's pre-Harry personhood and just how much she lost to be with him. And I was so unspeakably moved by Harry's recounting of his relationship to the people of Lesotho and Botswana. How they took him in when he had no place he felt at home. How it fundamentally shifted his development into the man he would be become. Genuinely one of the most beautiful stories in the whole production.

Meghan is better than me because if I had to meet my future in-laws and there in my kitchen was Kate Middleton looking at me the way Kate Middleton looks at people, I would be on the next plane back to America. EXPEDITIOUSLY.

Also um can we take a sec to laugh at how Cambridge stans (esp those in the rota) are taking personal offense to Harry's cheeky but astute observation about his male relatives marrying for convenience rather than love? SO funny. I think he was very obviously talking about his parents, but hey if you wanna be like "This is so clearly about William and Kate" like . . . Ok mama, if the tiara fucking fits!!!!

Meghan is better at communicating the warm, gooey, happy parts of the story, and Harry is FAR better at communicating the serious, difficult, upsetting parts of the story -- the "shocking revelations," if you will. Meg is seemingly still struggling with this incredibly frustrating naivete surrounding their situation, and it does not come across the screen well to me. But that is a discussion for others to have, so that's all I'll say on that.

The Black historians and political commentators they brought on were absolutely critical to nailing that side of the story. Afua Hirsch was my very favorite.

I've already gotten at least one anon asking about my perspective on the addressing of Harry's SS costume. I appreciate the interest, but no. I am the granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor. My family and I have been discussing how to internalize and process Harry specifically, as well as people like him, for years now. And it's not something I'm willing to do over the internet with strangers. Sorry, but I hope you can understand.

Mandana's scene was so funny. She was like "Royal expert? You literally just made that up right now 🤨" LMAO

Ashleigh's appearance knocked me BACK omg. I'm so touched to see how they connected all those years ago, and I hope they have found a way to reconnect, away from all that sabotage.

As I posted just before, the way they are juuuuust planting the seeds for the Jason storyline to come . . . literal fucking chills.

I love that they know which photos of them are iconic. When the umbrella shot showed up I was like "Yeah they know that was history right there" 😌

Oh and showing them Meghan's old This or That interview, the producers are SO real for that kjgfhfdgfjgh

Please believe me when I tell you that I am not usually one to be all "Ohhhhh Diana ohhhhh she's looking down on them ohhhh this or that." Lol. But the clip of Archie reaching his little hand to her photo on the wall, and not to her face, which babies are neurologically wired to focus on, but to her hands. Yeah a bitch might just have teared up or whatever 🥲

I thought the whole thing was really well produced. So far, it's not the nuclear war all those panicking lil media experts were predicting. But my sense is that Volume I was very much an introduction to lay the groundwork for whatever we're about to go through in Volume II. And I cannot wait. For the time being, I am so over the moon to be granted this truly moving glimpse into what a beautiful life Harry and Meghan have built for themselves.

[amazaynz]

you’re just a man

here’s an incredibly insightful blurb for the kook king himself!! let me know what you think of this little creation, and if you’d want more. all love <3

rafe was stuck.

he felt insufferable– trapped in some fucking cycle that wouldn’t seem to end. a series of bad habits grew into routine, ones that he had helplessly created. no one was really to blame here, besides himself, of course. it was all his doing, his actions and his deep rooted flaws. these questionable life choices were quickly spiraling into detrimental costs that rafe would never be able to fix. they were too damaging to recover from. he wouldn’t be able to pay his way out of the hole he’d dug for himself this time— no amount of his daddy’s money would ultimately help him, and that sheer reality scared rafe more than he wanted to admit.

but like the young, ignorant man he had slowly become– and despite all the pain and destruction he had caused– rafe truthfully didn’t want to break out of this cycle anytime soon. it was crazy that he let himself act this way, and he knew that. yet, instead of stopping himself, he continued to egg it on. he entertained the pain, he enticed the consequences.

rafe was highly addicted to the feeling of being wanted. it was a powerful emotion, unbeatable amongst any other thing he’d ever felt, and he unchained himself because of this. any morals left behind in that tainted soul of his had vanished into thin air. he sickenly thrived off of the unjust thrills and freedom he created for himself. all of this mayhem, just because he selfishly loved to feel loved. he breathed for that indescribable adrenaline that ran through his veins when a woman showed him care, intimacy, and attention: the kind of things he never received in his youth from his parents, like a young boy should.

because of his incredibly careless actions, rafe mindlessly began to hurt the ones he loved most, the people who he held so dearly to his fragile, little heart. he baited these loved ones, manipulated them, and then finally, ruined them. time and time again.

until it was too late.

you were the prime victim in all of this destruction. you had been incredibly naive. so clueless to rafe’s frightening abilities to gaslight and persuade, while also horribly oblivious to his possessive and controlling nature. yet, like almost all of his other victims that had once been wronged by the arrogant, self-proclaimed “kook king”, you would soon find that he was nothing short of a monster. he was everything you didn’t want to believe; he was simply a product of all the horrible qualities that you had tried to hide from yourself, because deep down inside, you were too scared to admit that it was true. that he had, in fact, tricked you. your pure stupidity and gullibility had been the main reason why you let it continue for so long.

it all started out so innocently in the beginning. he was always so sweet to you, always knocking on the door and greeting your parents with an impressionable charm. writing silly little notes to you in class, staring longingly at you from across any room you were both in with those beautiful, blue eyes. he even went out of his way to drive you to school and back everyday, and quite literally anywhere else you wanted to go. your wish was his command. he didn’t want his precious girl to have to go anywhere, at any time, without him coming along. without him being right by your side.

it was all so overwhelming and exciting. the attention he would give you was intense, and it made you feel so gooey and warm inside. you felt completely wanted and cared for by the young boy; in your eyes, he could do no wrong. he was your sweet rafe, the one person who would do literally anything for you, no matter what the cost may be. he was a romantic, never letting you pay for a thing, always making sure you had the best jewelry and clothes in town, because he solely only wanted the very best for his girl. he thought the world of you, and would never let anyone hurt you. if anyone ever dared to test you, rafe would always get involved; he always reminded you that he would protect you from harm. in the late hours of night, when no one else was around, rafe would confess his deepest and darkest secrets to you. the biggest one being that he believed he would never be able to live without you.

which was all quite ironic, and absolute bullshit, if you think about it now. looking back, the silly boy ended up being the complete opposite of what he once promised. yet, you came to realize those lies a bit too late, unfortunately.

you’d known rafe since elementary school– back in the good ol’ days when he would stubbornly demand rose to pack him goldfish in his lunch everyday, because he knew that they were your favorite. or the times when he’d follow you around the playground like a lost puppy, looking for only but a sliver of your worthy attention. you were so adorable to him, and pretty, and sweet, and just so fucking addicting that he couldn’t get enough of you. he couldn’t bring himself to let you go once he had sunken his claws into you.

although rafe had made it known in the early years of middle school that you were completely off limits, his animalistic claim didn’t help deter those brave tourons that trekked your way in your later years, when piles of booze and clouds of weed became the new norm of partying in high school. bonfires were the absolute worst for rafe, because you were always so damn attractive, and those idiot tourons always found themselves bothering you, pathetically begging for a chance. it pissed him off, the way you’d dance so provocatively without even trying, laughing along with your friends whilst completely oblivious to the lustful stares thrown your way. he didn’t want you near any of those assholes. you were his, and that meant only he could watch you as you danced. only he could kiss you in the ungodly hours of night, in the bed of his truck, as the bright stars lit up your face so deliciously that he couldn't help but stare. 

god, he loved you so fucking much that it hurt. you were everything to him. his whole world, the very reason that he dared to live on this forsaken earth.

well, that had all been true, you suppose. until, on some incredibly strange and tumultuous day, you suddenly weren’t the only one.

one random day, at some trivial kook party that topper volunteered to throw– a summer bash that had all the youth in town buzzing in excitement– was the very moment when everything had changed. rafe was hastily introduced to the culprit that would equally destroy, expose and enhance his world.

this lovely suspect ended up being the slippery slope of drugs– but, more specifically, his infatuation for cocaine.

for the first time in both of your lives, you were now no longer the most important thing to him. and, although incredibly shocking to most of the island, you were especially not the only muse that could make his world spin ‘round. rafe didn’t look forward to seeing you as much as he used to. he didn’t desperately wait for your presence to cheer him up anymore, because ignorantly enough, the boy turned to drugs for comfort. rafe chose to fill the gap of missing you between breaks in his life with the craving of another bump, another line, another gram. quickly, the only thing that began to start mattering was whatever and whenever he could get some fucking drugs in the grasps of his hands. the ecstasy of it all, the way his traumatic past would simply just disappear, making him feel so fucking good and finally at peace with himself. it was disgustingly addicting, but rafe couldn’t seem to get enough of it.

sooner or later, here you were. caught in the crossfire of this burning bridge. you felt guilty, as if you were voluntarily letting him transform into this shell of a man you once knew. he was no longer the boy you grew up beside, the boy you once loved, the boy you trusted your heart with. before you could even seem to get a clue, and to realize his massive problem, the damage had already been done. he was an addict, he was obsessive, and he was completely out of control. it seemed like no one could stop him, and to be honest, no one cared. no one would even make an effort to try and weakly reach out to rafe, contacting him from the planet he had landed himself on. well, no one except for you, of course. he was given up on by almost everyone you knew, as they easily wrote him off to be “just another druggie” in town. they didn't want to waste their time on a lost cause, you suppose. 

yet, here you stupidly were, the last one left. the last passenger on rafe’s crazy train, desperately holding on for dear life. naively hoping that maybe, just maybe, your love could somehow change him back to how it was.

that somehow, someday, you and your sweet rafe would be okay again.

A/N: thank you so much for reading if you’ve gotten thus far!! possible more parts to come if requested <3

[jadequeen88]

Accidental Valentine

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This is my fic for The Citrus Dome Server Lover’s Day Literature Collab! Please go check out The Masterlist and support all of the amazing artists and writers that have contributed.🖤

A/N: WHEW guys... I don’t think I’ve put this much work into a fic EVER. I’ve been feeling pretty bad about my body and wanted to write a reader who struggled with it as well. Who better to boost your confidence than DILF Kiri feeding your praise kink?! I was heavily influenced by this amazing drabble by @rat-suki​ and got permission to use it as my inspiration for this fic.🖤 (for reference, reader is 30 and Kirishima is 42)

Thanks to @afictionalwhore and my dear friend Orchid for the beta read!🖤

RetiredProHero!Kirishima x YoungerF!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

TW: size difference, oral (both receiving), daddy kink, praise kink (lots and lots of praise), TBH the sex is pretty vanilla but very passionate, both are insecure about their bodies.

When you trudged into work this morning, you didn’t ever dream of meeting your childhood idol/crush, but here you are, staring up at a beautiful mountain of a man. Eijiro Kirishima, or retired pro hero Red Riot, had never come into your coffee shop before and you’d never imagined he would. He was huge. Nearly 7 ft tall and built like a brick house. His hair was back to his natural black with flecks of silver at his temples and hung long and wild around his shoulders. He had on a pair of glasses and wore a dark maroon sweater and jeans.

Even though he’s aged, he looks just as handsome as the young man you fell for as a girl.

The year he made his debut, you were only six, and like most other six-year-olds, you idolized the pro heroes. Most of your friends loved Deku or Dynamite, but you always loved Red Riot. His smile, warmth, and his fiercely protective nature made your tiny heart burst with admiration. Throughout his hero career, you kept up with all of his interviews, the battles he’d been in, the awards he’d won, and his hero rankings. You’d also gotten as much merch as possible over the years and still wore your worn-out, oversized Red Riot t-shirt to sleep in. When he retired a couple of years ago, you still scanned articles online trying to gather bits and pieces of information about the hero, but he wasn’t one to seek out the spotlight. You think that’s probably why he’d always been your favorite. He was a true hero. Serving the citizens and keeping them safe was his top priority. You didn’t want to admit it, but you kept up with him for one main reason… You wanted to know if he was seeing anyone.

You remember being eaten up with jealousy when you’d see his arm around another woman going to galas and award ceremonies. Your sixteen-year-old brain knew that of course, he’d date women. He was a grown man and a pro hero. But your heart would ache, wanting to be the one his soft eyes and pointy-toothed grin was fixed on.

Now those same eyes were fixed on you, his mouth moving and forming words, but you were too star-struck to hear what he was saying. When you snapped out of your daze and remembered you were supposed to be taking his order, you were mortified.

“I-I’m so sorry sir! Could you please repeat that?”

“Sure thing!” his bright smile was hypnotizing, “Just a venti-sized flat white. Have you had your coffee yet? Ya looked a little far away there for a second, kid.”

Your heart leaped at the little nickname. “Yeah, sorry about that! I guess I should get a couple of shots of espresso in me before I try to be productive.” You chuckle nervously as you scribble his order on the cup and turn to make his drink.

“Oh, uhh…” he peeks around the counter to get your attention, “Do you need my name? For the order?”

You freeze realizing you forgot basic, barista 101 etiquette…

“Actually,” you face him, a sheepish grin on your face, avoiding eye contact, “I know your name. You… umm, were my favorite hero,” you blush, and your eyes widen in embarrassment, “you know when I was a kid...”

You turn back to your work, kicking yourself for being so awkward. 

“Really? I think you’re the first person to recognize me since ya know,” he circled his head with his pointer finger, “I stopped dying my hair..”

You turned your head to peer up at him through your dark lashes, a light dusting of blush still on your cheeks, “Well, I like it. It looks good on you.”

The retired pro’s heart was bursting at how damned cute you were. Was this pretty, young girl… embarrassed? Over him?! He watched your tiny hands move as they worked on his drink order, wondering how small they’d feel grasped in his massive ones. Your soft hair caught in the sunlight making you look like a literal angel and he sighed. You reached up to grab a canister from the top shelf and a sliver of soft skin between your t-shirt and jeans peeked through. His gaze became far away and he damn near drooled at the sight. Just how long had it been since he’d touched another woman? Kirishima wasn’t one for casual flings. He always got too invested in whoever he was seeing. So when he and his long-time girlfriend broke things off a couple of years ago, he wasn’t rushing back into the dating scene.

However, things were a little more… complicated than just not finding the right girl to commit to. He was getting older and it was starting to show. Over the past few years, he’d lost his confidence. He’s bulkier around the middle no matter what workouts or diets he tries. Overuse of his quirk has caused stretchmarks and scars all over his skin. He was starting to get crow’s feet and he was overall just TOO big and TOO hairy. He felt like some sort of gorilla walking around in human clothing. Kirishima isn’t stupid or trying to fool himself. A young, gorgeous thing like you wasn’t looking for anything from an old, washed-up man like him. But, fuck… It was nearly impossible for him to move his gaze away from your ass… Oh, the things he’d do to you if he were a few years younger...

You turned to look over your shoulder and notice his gaze… and it’s apparent that he’s checking you out. He looks like a man starved, eyes glued to your ass.

“Well, well, well… maybe he wasn’t so annoyed with my fangirling after all.”

When he realized you’d gone still, his eyes met yours and he quickly averted his gaze. His cheeks turned as red as his hair used to be. You busied yourself with the milk steamer to hide your big, goofy grin. With a new burst of confidence, you decide to take a chance and when you go to write his name on his to-go cup, you write

 “Big Red <3” 

You pause, bite your lip, and think to yourself, “why the hell not?” as you scribble your number underneath the nickname. You turn to give him his drink and your nerves almost make you retreat and make a whole new drink. Then he meets your gaze and your world stops spinning. His vermillion eyes crinkle at the edges as his scared lips turn upwards into a syrupy sweet smile.

When Kirishima takes his drink from you, your fingers brush his for the briefest second and he can tell they’re trembling. “Oh no, I hope I haven’t made her nervous or uncomfortable.” He wanted to go crawl in a hole… That was until he saw what you’d written on his cup.

He stammers, looking from the cup to your face like he’s checking to see if you’re pulling a prank on him or not. Before he can say anything, you bite your lip and look up at him. 

“I’m off work this Sunday. Just… if you’d like to hang out or something.” your gaze shifts and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

After a moment or two, his face lights up in a huge grin. “Y-yeah, great!” he turns and walks a few steps, then turns around and motions at the cup, “So… I should just, ahh… text you?”

You giggle and it’s the sweetest sound he’s heard in a long time, “That would be nice, yeah.”

“Okay, great!... Talk later then!” He waves and leaves the coffee shop, feeling light as a feather and ten years younger.

*****

Sunday rolls around and you spend the morning making sure the place is cleaner than it’s been in weeks. Your place was small but cozy. For a fleeting moment, you’re a little insecure about how modest your apartment is. You don’t know exactly how wealthy pros are when they retire, but you know he’s more familiar with much nicer places than yours. You decide he probably knew just what to expect on a barista’s salary and tried to put it out of your mind. You checked on the cookies baking in the oven. When you found out through your text conversations that he loved chocolate chip cookies with the large chunks of dark chocolate baked in, you went out and bought everything to make them the same day. You kept watching over them like a hawk to avoid burning them. They still looked pretty gooey, so you decided it would be safe to get changed into something a little nicer. Just as you were about to turn the corner into your bedroom, your doorbell rang.

“Shit!” you looked at your phone and sure enough, you let time get away from you. He was here and you were still in your cropped leggings and t-shirt, sporting a messy bun and dirty apron. You groaned as you realized you couldn’t leave him on your doorstep while you changed. Defeated, you hurried to the door.

You opened the door, hoping that you at least didn’t have flour in your hair, and looked up into the much larger man’s eyes. The realization that THE Red Riot was standing this close to you made your stomach flutter and a goofy grin slide across your face. While you stood there star-struck, he broke the silence.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here!”

“Oh!” you jumped a little then promptly ran over to your oven, “Sorry! Please come on in!” you said over your shoulder as you were pulling your oven mitts on. 

Kirishima walked into your cozy apartment and instantly felt at ease. He couldn’t pinpoint just what it was, but something about your place felt more like home than any place he’d ever lived before. As he finished scanning your apartment, his eyes landed on you taking the cookies out of the oven. The comfortable, domestic feel of the place coupled with your ass on full display as you bent down to remove the cookies from the oven had his jeans tightening. You stood up and he averted his gaze before you turned around, not wanting to get caught checking your ass out for a second time.

“Fair warning, I’m not a talented baker by any means,” you removed your oven mitts after placing the cookie sheets on the cooling rack and flashed a sly grin his way, “But when Red Riot tells you what his favorite cookies are… Ya kinda gotta make them, right?”

Oh… If you only knew how pent up this man was… he debated bending you over right then and there and fucking you until you couldn’t walk. He really hit the jackpot with you… a hot, younger woman with the perfect ass who bakes him cookies and for some reason thinks he hung the moon? Kirishima would have given you a ring right then and there if he didn’t think it would scare you off.

“Well,” he radiated warmth as he looked between you and the cookies cooling on the rack, “If you’re not the sweetest thing! I, ahh… might have gotten you a little something too.” he then held up a 6 pack of your favorite cider. “Because when Y/N, L/N tells you what her favorite cider is… Ya kinda gotta get her some.” he winked and you felt your knees buckle and your cheeks burn. You felt like you were in a fairytale.

Then you remembered that the princesses in fairytales definitely did not wear flour-riddled black leggings, old t-shirts, and dirty aprons.

“OH! Umm, I need to go get cleaned up. I’ll only be a minu-” his massive hand wrapped around your wrist as you walked past him. It covered half of your forearm and a shudder ran through you. You wanted those giant hands to roam every inch of your body.

“Please don’t,” his eyes were half-lidded and his voice was low, “...I think you look beautiful like this.” his calloused thumb traced little circles on your skin not meeting your gaze. His deep voice was impossibly tender.

Now that you’d felt his skin on yours, you couldn’t contain your churning desires any longer. You wanted, needed, more. Rising up on your tiptoes, you curled your fist into Kirishima’s shirt collar and pulled his face toward yours.

You felt him tense up for a moment, then relax into the kiss. His massive hands found purchase on your hips, digging into the pliant flesh there. A needy whimper caught in his throat spurring you on to deepen the kiss. 

It was like your bodies were working around each other in perfect harmony… lips parting at a slow pace, like honey dripping from the edge of a spoon and tongues meeting in the middle to taste each other. You both savored the kiss for as long as you could, eyes lazily drifting open and shared breaths causing your hearts to dance out of your chests. 

You saw him falter, his gaze dropping, and you feared that you overstepped. 

“Kirishima I-“

“Ejiro,” he stopped you with a hand against your cheek, “Call me Eijiro…” his thumb caressed your bottom lip slowly, back and forth. His touch held so much devotion in it.

“Eijiro…” you sighed, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “I need you…”

The giant of a man before you swept you up into his arms and began walking down your hallway. You quickly wrapped your arms and legs around his hulking frame as if you were climbing a tree. 

“Second door on the right,” you were panting into his neck, leaving sloppy kisses all over it. 

You blew a cool stream of air along his damp skin and felt him shudder. A giggle bubbled up from your chest at being able to weaken a retired pro-hero known for being a human shield against the worst villains Japan has ever known. Your little stunt resulted in a grunt and a firm, warning squeeze to your thigh.

“So that’s what we’re doing today, huh?” he tosses you on the bed just hard enough to make you bounce up a little… then he’s on you, placing light kisses all along your neck as he prods your sides looking for a ticklish spot. You can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard and the fact that it was your idol drawing it from you made you dizzy with joy.

“Mercy! Mercy!” you were breathless and your abdomen ached from the forceful laughs Ejiro was pulling from you. He blew a raspberry on your neck as a final tease then relented, sitting up to meet your gaze.

You were absolutely smitten. You caressed the lines around his eyes and the scar that split his lips as your eyes roamed across his features. Every crease, every scar… you wanted to kiss them all. When his gaze faltered and he pulled away to sit beside you on the bed, the feeling you’d done something wrong resurfaced. You sat up beside him and placed your hand on his thigh.

“Eijiro…” your voice was barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry, I know I can come on a little strong sometimes, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just…” your eyes meet and his gaze is unreadable.

“No, no…” his ruby eyes drop to the floor, “It’s just that,” he chuckles nervously, “Well, it’s been a while. I’m not very good with casual flings and the like. So I don’t really date much…”

You rise to your feet and move to stand in front of him. Sitting in front of you on your bed, you’re only slightly below eye level with him. You place your tiny hands on his thick thighs and nudge them apart so you can slot your hips between them.

“When I told you that you were my favorite hero,” you reach for his wrist and remove the hair tie from it, “What that actually meant was that I’d watch the news every day just to make sure you were safe.” 

Slender fingers move through his wild mane of silver-flecked hair untangling any knots, “It meant that when that villain with the sludge quirk put you in the hospital for a couple of days, my mom let me stay home from school because I was so distraught,” you pulled all of his untangled hair to the nape of his neck and began wrapping the hair tie around it.

“It meant that my silly sixteen-year-old heart would ache when I saw you hand in hand with a girl in a magazine going out on a date,” you grinned at how silly you felt admitting that. Once his hair was secured in a low ponytail, your hands trailed along his broad shoulders.

“Now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself, I’ll get to the point.” your intense gaze held years of longing for the hero in front of you, “Nothing about this is casual for me.”

Tears pricked the corners of Kirishima’s eyes. Had anyone ever showed him this much tender devotion? All the years he’d taken beating after beating, a glorified human shield, content with leaving most of the game to his friends. He was all rough edges and bulk. He was the one doing the protecting every time. Even in his romantic relationships, he was the one who would give, and give, and give… never asking or expecting to be taken care of. Being handled with such care was utterly foreign to him and it stirred up a deep need he never knew was there.

“Eji…” his glassy eyes met yours, “Can I take care of you?” you sank to your knees, hands sliding up his thighs.

“Please…”

Your hands made quick work of his button and zipper. He shifted his hips upwards to help you ease his jeans down his thick thighs and you pulled his jeans and boxers down in one slow pull. Nothing would have prepared you for just how huge he was. Your eyes widened for a fraction of a second, wondering how you’d get that thing to fit inside your cunt, much less your mouth… but it was something you were eager to find out.

Looking up at him from under your dark lashes, you made a show of lewdly licking your lips. You flattened your tongue and drug the wet muscle from his base right above his neatly trimmed patch of black hair, all the way to the swollen, red tip of his head. You felt the powerful muscles in his thighs clench as his head rolled back and a delicious moan escaped his open mouth. Making your hero come undone with one lick to his cock was intoxicating. 

“Fuck, baby…” Kirishima fisted the sheets praying he wouldn’t come just from your teasing. He’s not sure his pride could handle it. It became a very real threat when he dared to look down at you kissing and licking all up and down his length. Once your mouth had gotten him wet enough, your soft hands joined your warm mouth in worshiping his cock. You met his gaze as you kissed his tip and licked up the pre that was escaping in pearlescent beads. When you had teased him to your contentment, you swallowed him down as deep as your throat would allow, wrapped your hand around his base, and moaned.

Kirishima had many blowjobs in his life. In fact, he’d had some that he would say were pretty amazing… but in all his adult life, he’d never been so thoroughly and enthusiastically devoured like this. He threaded his fingers of one hand in your loose bun and fisted your bed sheets in his other to ground himself. After a minute or two, he felt his release creeping up much faster than he wanted.

He placed his hands on either side of your face causing you to stop bobbing your head and look up at him. He ran his thumb against your swollen bottom lip and you leaned into his tender touch. He bends forward and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Lay down on the bed,” he whispers into your hair. Nerves starting to catch up to you, you shook slightly as you stood from your spot on the floor. Before you lay down, you remember to take your apron off then lay on your pillows, heart pounding awaiting further instruction.

Kirishima hovers over you reminding you yet again just how tiny you are compared to him. His warm hand covers your knee and slowly travels up your thigh, stopping right before he meets your throbbing core. He runs his hand back down your thigh to gently nudge your knees apart. Leaning on his forearms, he positions himself between your thighs and you gasp at the friction created where your bodies meet. While planting tender kisses on your neck, he whispers, “I need you to promise that you’ll tell me if I need to stop or if something doesn’t feel okay. Can you do that?”

“Y-yes…” you moan as he nibbles on your earlobe, teasing with his sharp teeth but not breaking your skin.

“Mmm,” he places sweet kisses all along your jaw, your breath catching in your throat, “Good girl.”

Receiving praise from him made your chest swell. You wanted nothing more than to please this man you were rapidly falling for. He sat up, legs folded under his body, and slowly slid his hands under the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You felt his hands still on your stomach and looked up from where you were laying on your pillows to see what had made him freeze.

He met your gaze with a devilish grin, “Baby girl…” his thumbs run small circles on your skin, “Did you wear this for me?” 

When you realize what he’s talking about, you hide your face and groan into your hands. You completely forgot that you were still in your old Red Riot t-shirt that you usually slept in. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing!” you mumbled behind your palms.

Kirishima chuckled and shushed you, “No, no, no… This is the sexiest thing you could have possibly worn.” He pulls the hem of your t-shirt up to expose your tummy, burying his face in the soft skin there. Gentle kisses were placed all along the waistline of your leggings, every squishy part and every little stretchmark that decorated your skin like tiny spiderwebs were lovingly caressed with his plush lips. Having the part of your body you were the most self-conscious of worshiped like this felt more vulnerable than sex.

As the kisses traveled higher, they became sloppier and more desperate. You lifted your arms to allow him to remove your shirt, exposing your plain white cotton bra. The feel of his stubble against your skin as he moaned into your cleavage sent shivers down your body. Instead of paying attention to your neglected nipples, his warm mouth carved a path up the column of your throat, head thrown back to give him as much access as possible.

Kirishima whispered against the tender skin under your earlobe, “This okay, baby?” two large fingers dip into the front of your leggings. You nod enthusiastically, unable to form a coherent answer, “Mmm… I need words, sweet thing. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Yes… it’s more than okay,” your chests are touching as he works his hand down the front of your pants.

When Kirishima’s thick fingers slid between your drenched folds, you arched your back and grasped his forearm. Slowly, he spread your slick around, dancing past your clit with each stroke. His teasing was turning you into a whimpering mess underneath him. 

He had all the time in the world and having you melt underneath his touch was the best way he could hope to spend it. After what felt like an eternity of him gently brushing against you, only slightly dipping into your needy hole and barely grazing your clit, you were openly panting and whining. A steady stream of praises flowed from his lips.

“You’re such a pretty girl… such a pretty little pussy.”

“Look at how wet you are for me. Like this, huh? My pretty girl likes my fingers teasing her?”

“I can’t wait to lick my fingers clean. You’re gonna taste so sweet.”

You were so worked up that tears began to form in your eyes, “Eji… I-“

“Hmm? What is it, baby girl? Need something?” His finger drags around your clit slowly, adding a fraction more pressure. 

“Please, I need more Eji,” your nails digging into his forearm were leaving little crescents in his thick skin.

“Sweet girl,” he meets your mouth with a slow, wet kiss, “you can have whatever you want.”

Without hesitation, he sits up and pulls your leggings down with your panties. A groan rattles his large chest when he sees a thread of your slick attached to the crotch. Once his face is buried in between your thighs, it’s a real possibility he might come just from eating you out. 

All the teasing had brought him to the edge as well and he was out of patience. With a few hurried kisses to each thigh, he dove into your dripping cleft. His tongue plunged into your core as he nudged his nose into your puffy clit. 

You cry out and convulse around his face. His arms wrap around your thighs, firmly but gently holding your legs open to give him full access to eat you as thoroughly as possible. When he moves to suck your clit, you know you won’t last much longer. As he nurses on your sensitive nub, you feel the familiar tightening in your lower body. He picks up on this and moans into your skin as he greedily sucks. 

“Ahh… Ahh, I’m- I’m gonna….”

“Oh that’s it,” he encourages you by praising you and massaging your thighs in his massive hands, “let me have it, baby girl. Come on, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Your toes curl and back arches as you’re thrown over the edge. “Oh FUCK!! Coming, coming…. ooooh god… ahh D-daddy!…”

“Daddy, is it? Goddamn”

Kirishima felt his dick twitch and his breath caught in his throat.

He wipes his face on the back of his hands and makes a show of licking his fingers clean as he leans over you, nose touching yours.

“What was that baby?” His voice was strained as he pressed his dick into the warm, damp skin of your thigh…

You bat your lashes and ghost your lips over his as you whisper, “Daddy… please let me ride you. I need you inside me.” The nail in Kirishima’s coffin was when you licked his bottom lip then quickly followed with a chaste kiss.

You waste no time wrapping your thighs around his waist and twisting. He follows your lead and lays flat on his back letting you straddle him. You grab the hem of his shirt and similarly tease him, leaving a trail of kisses along his broad stomach. Kirishima flinches a little, self-conscious of his skin and how soft his middle had gotten over the years. You meet his eyes as you pull his shirt over his broad shoulders and run your hands back down his body. 

“Mmm, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” hands and eyes roamed over the expanse of skin in front of you, “It’s even better than in my dreams.”

He wondered for the hundredth time how got this lucky. You really loved his body? Maybe… maybe he wasn’t in as bad of shape as he thought…

“No,” his hands rubbed your hips, kneading your soft skin, “You’re better than I’d ever hoped to find.” He sits upon the headboard and pulls you closer into his lap, “Now,” he pulls your hair free of the messy bun, “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock?”

You lift your hips and place his tip at your entrance. That alone caused a delicious stretch and you knew it would be a slow process getting him to fit comfortably.

“Yes, Daddy,” your hands wrapped around his neck and he growled as he pulled you into a rough kiss.

“Good fuckin girl.” 

He helped lower you onto his cock with lots of kisses, praises, and gentle squeezes. When you got closer to his base, the pain was too much for a moment. Kirishima used his thumb to rub circles into your clit, shushing you sweetly against your parted mouth. 

“Are you okay, baby?” He brushes your hair off your sweaty forehead with his free hand while his other is still working your clit over.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, “You fill me up so well. I love your massive cock filling me up.”

“You’re gonna make me crazy, you know that? Huh?” He pulls your lower lip into his mouth and sucks. You both sit for a while, exchanging kisses and whispers while you adjust to his girth.

“Are you ready to move now, sweet girl?” 

“Yes, Daddy…” he helps you move, dragging your hips up and down his shaft.

After a few deep thrusts, you both increase your pace, matching each other’s movements. It’s not long before your head is thrown back, tears escaping the corners of your eyes. Loud moans and curses escape your mouth as one nipple is pulled into Kirishima’s mouth.

“Oh, Daddy! Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there… I… I’m… AHH!” Before you can even say anything, you’ve come undone, spasming around his cock. 

“Oh, good girl, good fuckin girl,” you go limp and bury your face into his neck while he slams your hips onto his, chasing his release. The feeling of him using your body to get off makes you dizzy with joy. You lean into his ear whispering, “Please come inside me. Wanna feel you come inside me, Daddy… please, need your come inside me, Daddy.” 

Your slurred pleas against his ear send him over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm. As he comes down from his high and looks into your face full of adoration, he knows he’s caught… hook, line, and sinker. 

*****

The rest of the evening is spent eating cookies on your couch, drinking cider, and watching your favorite crime drama. The sweet kisses and touches sprinkled throughout the night feel so natural… Like you’ve been together for years instead of hours. 

You end up with Kirishima’s head in your lap, running your fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes and relaxes into your touch. The clock on your wall reads 12:30 am and it dawns on you what day it officially is.

“Eji?”

“Hmm?” He opens one eye and reaches up to scratch your scalp. 

“Will you be my valentine?” You bite your bottom lip to stifle a silly grin.

He sits up and pulls you into a bear hug. 

“What kinda silly question is that? Of course. I don’t ever want another valentine besides you.”

Your heart explodes and you kiss him, grabbing his cheeks in both hands. 

“Sixteen-year-old me is absolutely losing her shit right now,” you giggle, rubbing his nose with yours.

“Well,” he grabs your ass and raises an eyebrow, “Forty-two-year-old me is losing his shit right now over finding such a sweet girl with such a sweet ass on her,” he nips at your neck and you squeal.

“Ooh, you ready for another round, old man?”

He growls and throws you over his shoulder. A swift spank to your ass causes you to burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh, so I’m dealing with a brat now? You want me to show you what this old man does to little brats?” He squeezes your thighs as he makes his way to the bedroom. 

“But I’m your good girl! Remember?!”

“Yeah, yeah… We’ll see about that.”

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: three years later and yoongi is still very much in love with y/n

according to my period tracking app i’m due in four days so that explains why i felt the sudden urge to sit down and write this 

also i had to go back and read the wedding drabble to double-check a minor detail and.,,.., barfs i am so sorry for all of the ceo!drabbles the writing is so tragic 

i hope u enjoy this small product of my sappiness <3 

➺ pairing; ceo!yoongi x y/n  

➺ genre; idk just very sappy and gooey and if ur a ceo!couple stan ur going to love this 

➺ wordcount; 1.4k

                                        »»————-　💞　————-««

the first thing yoongi finds especially odd when he steps into the penthouse is the fact that it’s a little too quiet for his liking

he purses his lips as he shuts the door behind him, blindly turning the lock with a quiet click as he looks around

sure, it’s almost midnight, but you’re usually tinkering around in the kitchen for a snack or watching netflix on the couch whenever he comes home late... so where are you now? 

he’s about to call out for you when he suddenly remembers that hwayoung’s definitely fast asleep by this hour and that you’d murder him in cold blood if he accidentally woke her up and ruined her sleeping schedule (she gets very grouchy when she’s not following a set schedule - and yoongi knows her sour morning attitude was probably inherited from him but he sleeps more peacefully at night thinking that it’s because of one of your genes) 

yoongi places his keys on the top of the shoe cabinet quietly before reaching down to yank his laces loose

“woah.” he holds his hands out to keep himself steady after he stands up too quickly and his head starts to spin and he starts to see double 

oof 

maybe he should’ve slowed down with the wine at dinner

it’s not his fault he’s so weak for a good red!

“shower time, showah time…” yoongi murmurs to himself as he makes his way up the spiral staircase, gripping onto the railings tightly so that he doesn’t slip on his way up, “would you like to join me? wanna come with? lemme soap you up, girl-” he slurs, smiling cheekily to himself at the possibility of being able to run his hands all over your body in a few short minutes

he gives himself a high five when he makes it to the top of the staircase successfully, wobbling for a split second before nodding to himself and giving himself a mental pat on the back  

B-)

nice

the warm light coming from the crack in the door leaks into the hallway and yoongi shuffles towards it like a moth towards a flame, reaching up to fumble at his tie with boneless fingers-

oh

yoongi immediately freezes once he reaches the door, his heart skipping a beat in his chest when he catches a glimpse of you wearing your wedding dress through the crack

he watches curiously as you smooth your hand over the neckline before turning from side to side to look at yourself in the mirror

he wasn’t expecting to see this when he came up here but he’s definitely not complaining 

yoongi presses his hand against the door frame to keep himself from accidentally stumbling in and scaring you and ruining what seems to be a private moment 

it’s just that seeing you in your dress again is triggering a sudden flood of memories of your guys’ wedding day into his mind and it’s making his heart feel all funny (it’s actually just heartburn from the wagyu steak he wolfed down earlier) 

the corners of yoongi’s mouth immediately raise in a fond smile at the recollection of you staring up at him with so much love in your eyes as he slid the silver ring onto your finger 

it was a beautiful ceremony

the food was great

the champagne was fabulous

the after-party was super fun 

the after-after party where it was just you and him alone was definitely fun as well 

he can still recall the scent of you all over him when he woke up the next morning 

and obviously the honeymoon was great - who doesn’t like paris?! 

not to mention, you still look just as beautiful as you did on the day the two of you said i do

maybe it’s just because the alcohol is making him feel all goopy inside but he wants to be a part of whatever moment you’re having!!! 

“i’m pretty sure it’s bad luck for me to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, darling.” yoongi pushes the door open with a creak and takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep himself from smiling too widely, “want me to close my eyes?”

“yoongi!” you gasp, pulling your veil up and over your head as you spin around quickly, “god, i don’t understand how your footsteps are so quiet- i really think i should put a bell on you or something-”

“what are you doing?” yoongi interrupts, tilting his head curiously as he offers you a soft smile, “hopefully not wearing your dress so you can run off and marry someone else.”

“no, obviously not-” you snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “i was doing some cleaning earlier and i found the box and… i don’t know, i wanted to see if i could still fit into it and… well-” you sigh, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror before flopping your arms down in defeat, “it doesn’t zip all the way up anymore.”

“to be fair, you’ve given birth to a child since our wedding.” yoongi raises a brow, glancing down at the zipper that’s stuck halfway up your back, “even if you didn’t fit into it at all it would still be totally fine-”

“yeah, but i had to suck in a lot just to get the stupid zipper up halfway-!” you whine quietly, pouting at yourself in the mirror before gesturing to your chest, “one sneeze and my boobs are going to pop out-”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that-”

“you know, maybe i should’ve had spanx embedded into the dress instead of it being 100% silk because silk is not a very forgiving material-”

“oh, baby…” yoongi chuckles, slinking his arms around you from behind before leaning down to prop his chin up on your shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself! your body literally made a human being- forgive it if it can’t fit into a dress from, like, three years ago…”

“i guess…” you trail off, leaning back a little to rest your head against yoongi’s as you continue looking at yourself in the mirror with a pitiful little frown on your face, “it’s just hard to feel beautiful when i can’t fit into most of my old clothes…”

“hey, you cut that out right now.” the smile immediately drops from yoongi’s face and he frowns at you in the mirror disapprovingly, “so what if you can’t fit into the dress anymore? you’re beautiful and like, really hot and- and even after all this time i’m still super head-over-heels in love with you and you could be wearing a potato sack and i would still think you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet and- and i love y-” 

“alright, you drunk, i get it.” you giggle lightly, reaching up to pat the side of yoongi’s warm face, “i love you more.”

“good.” yoongi smiles contently when it seems like you’ve cheered up a little from his (very good and extremely persuasive, in his opinion) pep talk, “love you most.” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your palm

“mhm. you reek of wine, by the way-” you wrinkle your nose playfully, letting yoongi sway you back and forth gently before reaching down to pat at his hand, “i think we should get you into the shower and then into bed.”

“i think we should get we into the shower and then into bed.” yoongi corrects you, pausing for a second to think over his words, “yeah. that makes sense.”

…,..,we should get we into the shower and then into bed…..,,.

that totally makes sense

you know what he means 

“i’m only joining you so that you don’t pass out halfway through and end up falling asleep against the wall like you did last time.” you remind him, though it’s obvious he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying because he’s too busy nipping at the side of your neck  

“mm. hey, you know what the best part is about the zipper not going all the way up?” yoongi grins, one of his arms sliding back from your waist so he can reach for the zipper, “it makes it much easier for me to get you out of this dress.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!) 

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[jayaury]

The Help

“You certainly do seem highly skilled, Miss um… I know I’m going to mispronounce this…”

“Gabina. Don’t worry! Everyone gets it wrong the first time. Goblin names are always super hard, huh?”

Chris Locken glanced over the paper at the green woman sitting across from his desk. She was small, but what she lacked in height, she made up with in curves. A fact that Chris had been uncomfortably aware of since her arrival at his door. Her green breasts swelled against the dress that seemed modest, and she surely must have thought it was with its drab grey colour. But what she seemed ignorant of was the fact the thing was about a size too small, negating the boring tone with the way it stretched across emerald tits and hips. Her long black hair hung to her shoulders and her eyes were bright with long, fluttering lashes.

She was, in essence, far too lovely to be a maid.

Chris cleared his throat. “Right, ah. Gabina. So, why is it that you want to work as a maid in my home?”

“I want a career,” she said.

Chris lowered the resume an inch more. “A… career?”

“Oh yes,” Gabina said, nodding quickly, which, he couldn’t fail to notice, made her tits jiggle in her ever so tight dress. “I mean, most goblin girls set out just looking to land a sexy, dumb husband. But I’m not like that at all! I want to move up in the world. I want to be a self-sufficient girl. Someone who can take care of herself. Who’s more than just a pair of glorious green tits for boys to stare at.”

Chris forced his eyes from said breasts and back to her smiling face. “And a… maid is your choice?”

Gabina sighed, resting a cheek in her palm. “Honestly? I don’t really have much of a choice. My mother was very old fashioned. She showed me how to be the perfect housewife for my future husband. So all my skills are about cooking, cleaning, and… ahem. Other services.”

Chris had a feeling he knew what said services were. Goblins did have a reputation, after all. Little green nymphos and eager bimbos, all out to snare a husband by means fair or foul. But looking across at the goblin trying her very hardest to break that mold was something to see, he had to admit.

He cleared his throat. “Well, Gabina. I…” He paused, then put the document aside. “Listen. I can sympathize. I don’t really need a maid, but every noble needs to have some servants.”

“Oh absolutely! And I promise I’ll serve you as well as anyone could ask.”

Chris hesitated still. He really didn’t want any servants. But what he’d said was true. He’d look poor before the other nobility if he had no one to answer the door. And he could sympathise with her plight. Aaaaand the house had been getting dusty…

He’d like to say it wasn’t the sight of her breasts stretching that drab grey that made the decision, but he’d also be lying. And he hated lies. “Alright,” he said, standing. “We’ll give it a few months trial, how about that?”

Gabina beamed, fairly bouncing from her seat in delight and taking his hand, shaking it frantically. “Oh you won’t regret this, master! I’ll be the picture of a good maid! You just wait and see!”

Chris cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. Right. Well, I suppose I’d best show you around the place. I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon.”

“Absolutely, sir,” Gabina said, giggling. “I’m sure I’ll feel right at home…”

---

Chris found Gabina a hard worker, dedicated, and willing to take initiative.

He also found her increasingly distracting.

It wasn’t anything she did, so much as what she was. For even with a maid uniform she’d bought herself, there was no denying her almost carnal charms. She just filled out anything she wore. Every movement seemed designed to entice and tease, her skirt riding up her ass whenever she bent down. Her blouse threatening to burst around her breasts with every act.

Chris found it increasingly difficult to do anything but watch her, which was absolutely improper, and also, absolutely impossible to avoid doing. Especially since there always seemed to be something to be cleaned wherever he was.

He was in the library at the moment, working through some documents about recent seasonal weather variances and what it might mean for his lands, when he noticed that Gabina had joined him. She was busy wiping down one of the side tables, but due to its height, she was forced to lean forward to properly clean it, hiking up her skirt and baring the shapely globes of her rear, her panties a thin strand between those firm, green orbs.

Chris swallowed thickly and wrenched his eyes back to the book before him.

“Master?”

He jumped at that word and glanced up quickly to find the goblin before his desk. “Ah, yes, Gabina? What is it?”

“You look tired, master. Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Fine. Just… a bit stiff.”

Her eyes brightened. “Oh!” she said, beaming happily. “I know something for that.”

“You do?” he said.

“Yes! My mother taught me it. It’s a way to massage away that stiffness in the back. Makes you nice and… loose.”

Chris blinked, wondering at the emphasis she’d put on that last word. “Well, ah…”

“Please, master,” she said, leaning forward on the desk, pushing her pretty face with its small nose and large, soulful eyes almost into his. “I hate to see you uncomfortable.”

Chris leaned back, but somehow couldn’t avoid those eyes. He tried to look anywhere else, but the immediate alternative was the pair of emerald breasts absolutely straining to be free of her top, framed by lacy white like two green candies waiting to be unwrapped.

That image did not help him relax. In fact, nothing about the situation was, but as his eyes found hers again, he could only stammer out, “Ah, well, if that… if you think so then… well, alright…”

The joy on her face when he said those words made his breath catch at her beauty. “Oh, thank you master! You won’t regret it. Now, let me just come around there and lend you a hand.”

“Well, I suppose…” he said, trailing off as she bounced about the desk. He heard the scrape of a stool as she dragged it up behind his chair, and suddenly wondered why she hadn’t been using it while cleaning earlier. Then he felt her climb up behind him, her warm breath grazing the hairs on the back of his neck, her tender hands resting on his shoulders.

“Just relax, my lord. Let me help you.”

Chris tried to relax, not easy with the giggly beauty behind him. But then he felt her hands on his shoulders. Felt them dig in, knead, and suddenly relaxing seemed much, much easier.

Chris sighed, sinking into the chair as Gabina worked his shoulders.

“Does master like that?”

“Mmm. Very much,” Chris said.

“I can’t tell you how happy that makes me, master. A goblin girl just loves to please. And I do so want to make a very good impression on you.”

“You’re doing wonderfully right now,” Chris said, smiling dimly, finding it easier to be candid with the green beauty when in her hands. Like some barrier between them had been pushed aside as soon as she touched him.

And not just with her hands.

“I’m so glad, master,” Gabina cooed, and Chris felt her lean forward, her firm breasts pressing against the back of his head, her scent, something lemony and sweet, tickling his nose with suggestions of delights untasted. “I so want you to approve of hiring me. Want to have me around, helping out about the house.”

“Mmmm. Yessss,” Chris hummed softly.

“You’re doing so well, master,” Gabina’s voice said as if from very far away. “You’re getting so wonderfully relaxed and… easy…”

“I… am,” Chris said slowly, almost moaning it.

“I know you are. You do so love being relaxed. Being massaged. Letting all your silly worries and thoughts just… slip away…”

“Yessss,” he moaned, melting further. As soft and gooey as dough in the hands of a master baker.

“Good boy, my lord…”

Chris shivered, tingling at that word. But not alarmed. Oh no. He was far too relaxed for that. Far too relaxed and happy and easy…

“Master?”

“Hm?”

“Do you like it when I massage you?”

“Oh yes….”

“Then, maybe I should do it more often? Maybe I should do it every night?”

“Every…”

“Night, yes. Maybe master would like it very much. I think you’ll be far more productive… far more… relaxed… if I get to massage you every night…”

“Oh,” Chris said, the word leaving him like a gasp as he felt her hands move down his shoulders, across his chest, his robe seemingly such little protection against those dexterous touches. “Um… I…”

“Don’t worry,” Gabina giggled. “Don’t fret, master. Master doesn’t have to worry at all, as long as his obedient goblin maid is around.”

Chris nodded softly as her words whispered like a song into his ears. Yes. Yes, no need to worry. No need to… to fret. Just had to… had to listen to Gabina’s words. Her soft tones. So soothing. So relaxing. Her breasts so soft pressed against his back as her hands moved lower. Lower. Lower.

“Oh my, Master, you are so tense here,” Gabina giggled as her fingers stroked the bulge in his pants.

Chris felt his cheeks warm. “Um… Oh. I um…”

“Shhh. Don’t worry, master. Just relax. Let me help ease all that tension from you with my magic hands.”

Magic?

That word stirred some worry in Chris. “Um, Gabina. You… are you… mnnnn!”

His words died in a moan as her delicate fingers undid his pants, his cock fairly springing into the open, and into the waiting grasp of the goblin’s green hands. He groaned as those slender fingers began to stroke him, teasing up and down, tingling against his cock.

“Goodness, master. You were tense! We have to make sure this doesn’t bother you anymore. We’ve just got to get you nice and soft and comfortable…”

“Ah… Ah…” Chris panted, his thoughts tumbling in his head, overwhelmed by the sensation racing through his cock. His loins aching wonderfully. His head swimming in a flood of pleasure as his parted lips panted hotly and his cock throbbed eagerly for more of her tender touches.

“Well, master? Should we have such relaxing sessions every night?”

“Ah… Gabina… I… Mnnnn…”

“Just relax, master. You can’t think when you’re tense. When boys are tense, they get so very dumb. Good boys need to be relaxed. Need to think clearly, or they might make the wrong decision…”

Chris panted, his hips working, thrusting up into her hand. “Gabina. I… ah… mnnnn! Oh, Gabina. I… I… Mmmmm!”

Chris threw back his head, his hips lifting as he moaned, his cock throbbing in her hands as he came, pumping his cum out and onto his lap in great bursts of pleasure. Groaning, Chris sagged into his seat, head cushioned by her tits as empty as his balls, milked by the green fingers of his goblin maid.

Gabina giggled, lifting her hand and delicately licking his cum from her fingers. “My! You were so pent up, master. That’s not good. It’s unhealthy. A good master needs to be nice and relaxed. And you look just exhausted. Maybe you should take a nap…”

“S-sleep? Yes. Sleep… sleep sounds… g-good…”

“Of course it does,” Gabina said, her voice as soft and smooth as velvet. “And I know master is so very easy right now. So sleepy. So… suggestible. In fact, every time I ask if you’re tired, I bet you’re going to feel so very sleepy. So very easy. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nooooo…” Chris sighed, already feeling the weight of pleasant dreams on him.

“What word will make you relaxed?”

“…tired…”

“So very tired.”

Chris could already feel the word work. Like it awoke something in him. Or, rather, softened everything else. Like the whole world dissolved to that wonderful word.

“Relax.”

“Relax…”

“Sleepy…”

“Sl… ee… p…”

“Good boy,” Gabina whispered, kissing the back of his neck, a blossom of crimson sensation even as the darkness of the void rushed in. “I’m sure you’ll have wonderful dreams…”

---

It was odd. Chris had never felt very tense during work. And yet, since hiring Gabina, it seemed like the day was just a thing to be suffered through so he could go home and relax. Gabina explained that sometimes, men don’t realize how tense they are until they relax, and he had to agree. Ever since he allowed her to massage him every night, he was feeling so much more relaxed! The days seemed to just sail by in a haze.

But not so much that he didn’t notice when he gained a second maid.

He had just gotten home from a meeting with the village council, opening the door only to draw up with surprise. At first, he thought it was Gabina. She had the same green skin, the same short stature, and the same more than ample curves in her tight maid uniform. But when she turned around it was a pair of rich violet eyes in an unfamiliar but no less beautiful face. It was then Chris noted other differences, such as the violet streaks in her dark hair and a small diamond piercing in one nose.

“Hello, master!” the strange goblin said, dipping in a somewhat mocking curtsy,

“...Hello,” Chris said slowly, putting his hat onto a waiting hook without looking away from her. “And… you are?”

“Maggria,” the goblin said, drawing out the A. “Your new maid!”

“I have a maid,” he said.

“Yup! Your head maid, Gabina, was soooo kind to hire me to help out around the place.”

“She… hired you?” Chris said slowly.

“Yup!”

“I see,” Chris said. “And, where is Gabina? I think I’d like to speak to her.”

“Why, in the bedroom, master. And I’m sure she’ll love to speak to you too!”

Chris didn’t like that knowing smile on the goblin maid’s face, but he pushed it aside in favour of getting to the bottom of this. His coat tossed back onto another hook, he walked swiftly down the halls of his manor, his temper flaring. Where did Gabina get off, thinking to hire employees for him? She was just his maid! He was going to have to show her he wasn’t to be trifled with. He was the master of this house, damn it! He might fire her!

The thought that sent an unexpected pang through him, but he pushed it aside as he opened the doors to his private bedroom.

“Gabina!”

The goblin turned from fluffing his pillows and smiled. “Hello, master. You’re home early!”

“Nevermind that! Who is that in the hall?”

“Oh! You must mean Maggria. Isn’t she charming? I hired her on at your behest.”

“What are you talking about, Gabina? I never asked for…”

“Oh no,” Gabina said, her face falling. “Master? Don’t you remember what we talked about last night?”

“Talked about…”

Chris tried to think back to the night prior, but he was having some trouble. All he seemed to remember was Gabina easing him down for another session of relaxation, followed by pink clouds of warm pleasure.

“I… I don’t…”

“You don’t remember me talking about how such a big place is so awfully hard to clean all by my lonesome? About how I could really use some help? Especially now that my tasks have grown? It takes some doing to get my master nice and relaxed every night.”

“But…”

“And I mentioned that I knew the sweetest goblin girl who would make just a wonderful maid! And you were so happy to agree and let me hire her on.”

“I…” Chris trailed off. Had he? He couldn’t remember. But he remembered Gabina talking. A soft, soothing voice ferrying him along clouds of pink bliss. They could have talked about anything. He might have agreed to anything.

“But… I…”

“Oh dear. Master? Are you alright? You look a little… tired…”

Chris blinked, his shoulders relaxing. His body easing and mind growing dim. “I… I’m not that…”

“Oh but you must be! Working so hard. And I know your life is so stressful, master. That’s why I want to make your home so welcoming. So my wonderful, tired master can just… relax…”

Chris swayed a little on his feet. It was like a giant hand was gently pressing him down. His strength and anger bleeding from him in a steady torrent, replaced by teasing clouds of pink bliss. “I… I suppose I am feeling a… a little…”

“Then we simply must get you to bed!” Gabina giggled, taking his hand and drawing him towards his bed. His bed? Had his bed always been so… so big? Not to mention ostentatious. He looked at the curtains and the four posters dimly.

“My bed…”

“Is so soft, master,” Gabina said, her hands very busy. So quick he almost didn’t register when his pants and shirt were gone. “Here. See for yourself.”

She pushed him, and Chris fell into the bed with a gasp. He sank into a mattress as soft as downy feathers with a sound like a sigh.

He tried again to think, but it was getting quite hard to do that. Especially after Gabina climbed onto the bed with him, resting his head on the pillow of her lap. He looked up, but could barely see his maid’s smiling face owing to the great globes of her breasts eclipsing it from his view.

But he could see her smile. So warm. So happy. So… so…

Wonderful.

Chris sighed, sinking into her lap as her hands began to work on his shoulders. Her breasts so close. So wonderful. Her sweet scent surrounded him, soothed him as she always did when she got her nimble hands on him.

“Are you feeling better, master? A bit more… relaxed?”

“Mmm. Getting… there…”

Gabina giggled. “I’m so glad to hear that. A relaxed master is a happy master. It’s so hard to be tired and stressed all the time. It makes you so forgetful! And we can’t have that. We can’t have you being dumb. Far better to be relaxed. Be at ease.”

“Yessss,” he sighed softly as Gabina leaned forward a bit more. Her breasts a bit closer.

“And besides, master. Taking care of the house should be a maid’s job. We can’t have the master cluttering up his head with domestic things. Not when he needs all his brains for work. Better to let me think about the house. Take care of it. Make it a wonderful, relaxing place for my master.”

That… did sound nice. Chris smiled. He was starting to forget why he would even have a problem with Gabina taking over running the house. After all, the master of the house had so much more important things to do.

“And master?”

“Mmm?”

“There’s another reason I hired Maggria.”

“Hm?”

“It’s because she knows an absolutely amazing way to help master relax.”

“I sure do.”

Chris cracked open his eyes. His vision was almost obscured by the green breasts and coal-black nipples above his head (was Gabina always naked?), but he could see that Maggria was suddenly in the room with them, and currently leaning on the bed between his legs, chin in her palm, smirking at him.

Chris knew this was somehow improper. That she shouldn’t be in his room while he was being… relaxed. But when he opened his mouth to say something, Maggria took the opportunity to reach out, and stroke the bulge in his underpants.

“Oooooh,” Chris groaned, words drowned in the hot pleasure of that touch.

“I know all sorts of ways to help master relax,” Maggria giggled, her finger stroking the tip of his cock through the fabric, drawing playful little swirls that made his balls ache. “Lots and lots of ways…”

Chris panted, his head swimming, his eyes glassy with pleasure and bliss and the deep haze of his triggers. He watched, his breath hitching as Maggria tugged down his pants, freeing his cock from their confines. The goblin’s teasing eyes sparked in delight and she grinned wider.

“Mmm. I knew getting a job was the right move.”

“Isn’t it?” Gabina giggled. “Now you can help him relax all you want. Master so loves to relax.”

“Good to know,” the other goblin purred, leaned in, and took the whole of his cock between her lips.

Chris’s head fell back, eyes shooting wide open at the sensation of those heavenly lips going up and down his twitching cock. “Oooooooh,” he groaned as Maggria sucked dutifully, her tongue swirling around his length, her hand resting beneath him, cradling his aching balls and gently massaging and squeezing them, never so much to be painful, but always to a strange sensation so close to pleasure that he couldn’t be sure what it was.

The confusion of sensation spread through the rest of him, but all the while his body was helpless to it. Only able to ache wonderfully as the two goblins adored him, stroking cock with soft lips and shoulders with eager touches, easing all the tension from his frame.

“Master is so very tired,” Gabina crooned. “So tired.”

“Mmmm…” Chris moaned as deeper lethargy paralyzed his limbs. Held him captive to the twin pleasures of his maids.

“In fact, master is so tired, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind his two lovely maids coming by every night to make sure he’s relaxed. He’s always so… tense after work, it must happen in the night too. So tense and aching for his maids…”

“Yes,” Chris panted. “Yesssss…”

“Of course,” Gabina giggled. “Then, the only solution is for his lovely maids to spend all night with him. Make sure he’s nice and relaxed. Nice and easy. Nice… and… dumb…”

“D-dumb?” Chris moaned, a spark of unease working through his mind.

“Not stupid, master,” Gabina was quick to add. “Oh no no no. Master is so smart. But when he’s tired, he’s not thinking right. He’s feeling so very dumb. And that’s why he needs his pretty maids to make sure he’s relaxed. So he’s not so dumb every morning. Because he gets so much dumber when he’s tired. So much sillier.”

“Ah…” Chris whimpered as Maggria’s lips went down to his root and up again, her fingers giving his balls another wonderful squeeze. “Yesss. F-feel d-dumb… Want… wanna be… ah… relaxed…”

“Good master,” Gabina cooed. “And cumming makes you so relaxed. So sleepy. You just have to cum for your wonderful goblin maids. Why, every time you see them, you just feel so happy and relaxed. You never have to worry about being dumb. Your maids are here to serve. All you have to do is.

“Cum.”

The word struck his core like a gong. He shuddered, a rush of sensation shooting through him to every limb. His body quaked as he felt it gather in his balls, teased by Maggria’s hand. Swell up his cock.

“C-cuuuuuum!” Chris moaned.

He came with a shuddering moan. Every pump of his cock into the goblin’s hungry mouth seeming to drain more of his strength. More of his resistance. More of him as he sank deeper into the bed, his head spinning, lids lowering.

“Good master,” Gabina crooned. “Such a good boy. Sleep for us, master. Tomorrow, we’ll make sure we keep you nice… and relaxed…”

“Yes…” Chris said, sighing happily. “Sleep…”

His eyes slid shut, just catching a glimpse of the two goblin maids exchanging smiles. His ears ringing with their laughter as darkness swallowed him in slumber.

---

The weeks began taking on a familiar pattern for Chris. As the day wore on he began to feel more and more tired. More needing the relaxing attentions of his maids. And they were so right. The longer he spent away from his beloved maids, the dumber he began to feel. The more stumbling and fumbling and uncertain he grew until he fell into the arms of his beloved servants and they made everything right again.

Why, soon enough he didn’t even wonder why he had more servants about than before. It seemed like every day he got home and found a new goblin in her tight little uniform hard at work cleaning his manor. Cooking in his kitchens. Smiling at his presence. He didn’t need to worry. Gabina knew what she was doing. And she was happy to introduce him to each of his new servants in his new big bed, where they could help him relax even more.

“Master,” Gabina crooned one evening as he lay in bed, being relaxed like a good boy. The goblin was sitting atop his chest, teasingly bouncing her breasts in her arms while two other goblins cradled his head on their laps, stroking his head and kissing his cheeks.

“Mmmm,” Chris hummed, watching his maid’s big breasts bounce so delightfully. Bounce, bounce, bouncing away all his tension and thoughts and silly worries.

“The other maids and I were talking, and we’re worried.”

Chris stirred. His maids… worried? Oh no. He couldn’t have that. “Wh-what about…” he breathed. It was hard to think at the moment. His cock was tragically being untended, left alone to twitch and throb while Gabina spoke to him.

“Well,” the goblin maid giggled, cupping her big breasts, thumbs gliding over dark nipples. “We’re worried that you’ve been getting a bit… too stressed. A little… too dumb.”

“O-oh?” Chris breathed. He tried to think if she was right, but somehow, couldn’t order his thoughts. He relaxed, though. After all, if Gabina said it was so, she must be right. “Um… okay…”

She giggled, as did the two cradling his head in their laps. “Oh yes master,” Gabina crooned, leaning in closer, letting him admire the big, perfect roundness of her big tits. Dangling them so near his face he could almost kiss them. Almost, if only the touches of the two goblins at his shoulders didn’t make him feel so heavy… “Me and the other servants are worried someone would take advantage of you. And we simply can’t have that…”

“Oh noooo. Not our precious master,” the two goblins at his head cooed.

Chris felt his body warm even further. He looked up at the pair. Maggria and… um… was it Ladina? He couldn’t remember. There were so many goblins about the place these days. So hard to keep track. He felt his cheeks burn. Oh, he must be really dumb if he couldn’t even remember the names of his servants.

“Um… I… Um…”

“But it’s okay,” Gabina said, leaning forward, her breasts so close he could smell the sweet lemony perfume Gabina put on them. “It’s all okay, master. We have a solution.”

Chris smiled, letting his thoughts subside beneath the wonderful haze of his pleasure again. “Oh. G-good. Solutions… good…”

Gabina giggled. “Oh yes, master. Why, it’s so simple! Our delightful master just never has to leave the house again! That way, no mean people can ever take advantage of him…”

Never… never leave the house?

Chris opened his mouth, closed it. Something… something about that felt wrong. So wrong it managed to stir him from his pleasured slumber. “Um… But… My… my lands are…”

“Oh master! Master, please don’t worry. Your lands will be fine. Your lovely maids will be sure to make sure they’re taken care of. They’ll be happy to go out and ensure your lands are so very well ordered. Why, if you need anything done, just tell us, and we’ll make sure your properties are so very well managed. After all, why have so many lovely servants if not to serve?”

“Y-yes,” Chris said, breathing soft and deep. “But… um, that… I can’t… um…”

He was trying so hard to answer. To focus. But his thoughts just wouldn’t line up. Not when his eyes couldn’t stop watching Gabina stroke her big breasts. Bounce them in her arms.

Bounce.

Bounce.

“Of course,” Gabina crooned, plucked a bottle from the bedside table, upending it, pouring glistening oil onto her green breasts. Chris’s mouth fell open as she began to spread that oil over her big, vermillion tits. Making them shine like emeralds and glisten, as slippery as his thoughts. “You don’t need all your lovely servants around the house. Just enough to make sure you’re nice and happy. Nice and relaxed. Nice… and… pleasured…”

Chris’s thoughts fixed on that point. “P-pleasured?” he breathed.

“Yes,” Gabina giggled, sliding down his waist, to his lap, halting there where her big, green tits hovered above his poor, neglected, throbbing cock. “Pleasured.”

She leaned in, and wrapped her oiled tits around his shaft.

“Mnnnnnn!” Chris moaned, head falling back onto the laps of his two other maids, his breath steaming with lust as Gabina began to rub her oiled tits around his twitching manhood. His tentative grip on his thoughts was shattered. He moaned with helpless lust as his maid began to pump his cock between her oiled tits.

“After all, master, you’re not dumb,” Gabina crooned.

“Noooo?” Chris moaned as he panted and bucked, pumping his cock between those wonderful tits. His shaft glistening with oil.

“Oh no, master. Not dumb. Just a bit of a bimbo. Just a silly bimbo.”

“Mmm,” Chris moaned, smiling dimly. Oh. A bimbo. He could do that. He could be a bimbo. He certainly felt like it. Just a moaning, mindless mess in the hands of his wonderful maids.

“Oh yes, master. A bimbo isn’t dumb. He’s just a bit ditzy. A little silly. Well, a little dumb, maybe, but that’s why he has such clever maids around. To make sure he’s nice and taken care of. Nice and safe. Nice and happy and silly and easy.”

“Oooooh,” Chris moaned. He liked the sound of that. He liked the thought of being a happy bimbo. He bucked and thrust ever more eagerly between her big tits. “Yesssss!”

“Silly bimbo,” the goblins at his head crooned, leaning down, kissing his helpless face with big, wet smacks of lipstick. “Poor silly bimbo.”

“That’s okay, though,” Maggria crooned. “We like silly bimbos.”

“Oh gosh yes,” the other goblin giggled. “They’re just the best!”

“Bimbo master. Bimbo lord. Bimbo master,” the two goblins chimed, leaning down, peppering his face with kisses that tingled and sparked across his sensitive skin.

“And good bimbos cum for their pretty maids,” Gabina giggled, his cock cresting the globes of her tits like the mast of a ship, lost a second later as the waves of her oiled breasts rose again. “They cum all their silly brains out for their wonderful goblin maids. They just relax so much they lose all their silly thoughts. Can you do that for us, master? Can you cum out your silly thoughts? We really need you to say yes. A good bimbo always says yes.”

“Y-yessssss!” Chris cried out. He wanted to be a good bimbo so bad! And it was so easy. So easy to just relax. Just let it go.

And be washed away by the sweet waves of pleasure as he came.

His cock pumped; every burst of his seed accompanied by a hot gasp escaping his lips. He pumped his cum with surrender. He pumped his cock with joy. He pumped and came while his eyes spun, swimming with heady pleasure as he sank into the mindless bliss of orgasmic joy, his cock glistening with oil.

As he came down from that height, Gabina giggled and lifted her green breasts, licking the cum from those plump orbs. “Mmm. What a generous master. He deserves a reward.”

“Yes he does,” Maggria crooned, stroking his cheek playfully.

“He so does,” Ladina agreed.

“D-does…?” Chris sighed.

“Absolutely,” Gabina said, rising, crouching above his cock, her velvety pussy dangling over him. The sight of the beautiful goblin above him stirred Chris anew, and his cock rose once more as if magnetically drawn to that silken cunny. Gabina smiled. Or was it smirked? “Good bimbo masters deserve all the pleasures in the world.”

Chris didn’t argue, even if he could find the words. And when she descended, her pussy swallowing every inch of his sensitive cock, words were the furthest thing from his admittedly simple mind.

Chris threw back his head, a trebling moan escaping his lips as Gabina began to bounce atop him. His cock throbbed within her tight depths, the short goblin moaning eagerly as she fucked herself atop him. Took him to the root again and again. Her eyes were warm and eager with pleasure. Her lips parted and panting, her breasts bouncing.

Chris saw no more, because Maggria took that opportunity to plant her own slick cunny on his face, and at once the master of the house was eagerly licking out his maid, tasting her sweet juices as she giggled and moaned, rocking her hips, riding his face.

“What a gooood master. What a wonderful bimbo… Oh yes… yesssss! Oh master, you were absolutely… mnnnn… perfect. Perfect ah… hah… master for a goblin maid,” Gabina moaned.

“Mnmm,” Chris could only moan, his mouth busy pleasuring Maggria.

“And we’re… ah… we’re all gonna be so happy together! Just a big manor filled with your goblins servants. So many… nnnn… so many giggling girls all so happy to s-serve you… To serve our wonderful bi-ah! Bimbo boy. Oh gods yessss! Yesss! Oh baby yes. Give me your cock. Oh yes. Master. Master! Yes! Masterrrrrrr!”

She came, her orgasm almost as thunderous as his. Chris cried out, the last of his resistance, the last of his thoughts, slipping away as he pumped his cum again into his wonderful, beautiful, perfect goblin maid. He almost didn’t notice when Maggria shuddered, cumming as well, drenching his face in goblin juices.

Breathing hard, Maggria got off his face, and Gabina his cock. Chris whimpered at the sense of loss, but Gabina was instantly at his side, giving him a loving kiss. “Don’t worry, master,” the goblin giggled, her eyes shining with delight. “I’ll be back soon. Just have to see the village council and your friends to tell them about the new… arrangement.”

“Ah… I… ah…” Chris panted.

“But don’t worry!” Gabina giggled, patting his cheek. “You’ve got plenty of goblin maids to keep you happy. And I promise to hire plenty more.”

Chris’s worries eased. He relaxed atop the bed, moments before Ladina moved over him, and buried him once more beneath a green muff. As he began to lick, he reflected on how much easier life had gotten since he hired his new maids.

And as he felt Maggria once more put her talented lips to work on his cock, he knew he was going to be very happy with his new servants after all…

[starvels]

1. I bet Steve gives AMAZING back massages, his knowledge of physiology, self muscle control, and artist hand sensitivity makes for a world class masseuse. and

2. Tony has the misfortune of both being jerked around at high speed on his muscles/joints AND you know he hunches over his work and typing like a gremlin. Ergonomics? Straight backed posture? Sitting in a chair properly? Taking breaks to stretch? idk her. (But you know he insists on his employees both having to most ergonomic equipment and are encouraged to stretch and take walks. HE sits cross legged on his fancy office chair desk AFTER he got thrown into a wall the day before)

So 3. Steve, who has given other people on the team a back rub when asked, is kinda horrified and motived once he feels the bag of rocks and sticks that is Tony’s back and shoulders after a friendly shoulder clap. They are going to FIX this meet him in the medical bay in 2 hours

1. absolutely agree!! i think there should be a ton more content about steve being attuned to temperature/texture/pressure differences and combining that with a very hard won knowledge of the human body and also violence and first aid!! there's a ton of material for it and i think casual use of superhero powers is always gonna compel me a bit more than big intergalactic uses.

2. lol to tony giving his employees giant health care spending accounts but not taking advantage of it on his own, yeahhh. we love that for stark employees tho!

for non-mcu tony, i do think he likes a comfy chair tbh! he obvs respects good product design a lot, and has a very intense amount of knowledge about his own biology and body. probably enough to have neck pillows, heating pads, health and safety protocols etc. and we do have canonical evidence of him using first aid - bandages, medication, a wheelchair, etc. so i think the idea of care isn't hard so much as it is accepting care (from someone, instead of working, etc). if that makes sense haha.

for fucking sure though, tony should have a lot more motion and collision injuries! lots of longterm trauma and nerve damage and spinal issues. boy should perpetually be walking around with WAD. ults in a lot of ways makes much more scientific sense - put someone in a tin suit and put a layer of gooey liquid to protect their sensitive organs from damage from being yunno hit perpetually against METAL. but alas, suspension of disbelief for comics. it's fine. but i would like to see it explored more >:) maybe i will do that.

3. i DO agree that steve should be horrified at the amount of tension tony carries in his shoulders. a fun personal annecdote is that my partner carries all tension in the shoulders as well and i am the masseuse in our relationship and sometimes i will put my hands on partner's shoulders and genuinely encounter a metal impenetrable surface instead of regular shoulder blades kgjnsbkj. so! i think there's a whole lot of jokes here about tony in the chest plate and being made of metal, etc.

3b. i find it equally compelling if tony is determined to reverse the favor and gets steve on a flat surface only to discover that steve heals so fucking fast sometimes he just gets KNOTS of scar tissue under his skin and he's super fucking casual about it, "oh it goes away in a week or two," and tony's like, what the fu cK.

superhero bodies! weird! wild! great :''')))

[myassbrokethefall]

"You big weird movie" - god, so true, isn't it? I love it beyond reason yet when I try to apply reason to it, it's like, wait, the plot is about WHAT? An epically weird beautiful summer blockbuster masterpiece of vaguely incoherent perfection.

FTF is precious to me because it has "WE'RE MAKING A MOVIE! WE HAD A TV SHOW BUT NOW THE TV SHOW IS ALSO A MOVIE! A MOVIE!!!" flop sweat all over it, and I mean this affectionately. I'm not saying it's not well-made or technically assured — it looks terrific, moves snappily and honestly I feel it actually hangs together pretty decently for XF — but there is a certain endearingly (to me) self-conscious deer-in-the-headlights feel about it in some ways. The M&S banter in the beginning — "Had you big time," Scully answering "Somethin' sweet" to Mulder asking what she wants from the vending machine. Since when?? And the opener that says "North Texas" over a howling snow field and then cheekily adds "one million years BC" or whatever it is. Eons of time! The ends of the earth! This movie came to town to be a summer blockbuster, and a summer blockbuster IT (sort of) WAS. Explosions! Helicopter shots! Shots OF helicopters! A new fancier kind of product-placement car! Pointed desert (different from painted desert) locations that are definitely not Vancouver! A zillion bees! An actual self-conscious literal dick-measuring reference to Independence Day, which I'm sure was extremely I don't think about you at all don draper dot gif in return! Upgraded Scully suit/heels! Full-ass orchestral score that they then saved money by reusing for the rest of the series! All the climates (snow AND the desert)! New conspiracy guys who are From The Movies! Not just sexual tension but CINEMATIC sexual tension — and with CALLBACK ONE-LINERS as "had you big time" RETURNS!! I'm sorry, is this DIE HARD? Yippee-ki-yay, Mothman! (withdrawn)

Honestly the movie is mostly weird in how not weird it is. It has some bog-standard XF weirdness (black oil, gooey guy, mysterious conspiracy explosion) (and it must be said, some truly great and XF-y imagery — the playground on the eerily verdant patch of grass in the middle of the desert, the searchlights on the cornfield, the crater), but it's almost like a cheese sampler, a charcuterie board if you will, of XF mytharc, ONLY SUPERSIZED! You see the alien! You see the spaceship! Mulder and Scully almost kiss! EONS! The ENDS of the earth! Such helicopter! It's very gleeful and the gleefulness feels, to me, inclusive of the audience. Like we all went to the movies with XF, them and us, all together. And we ate popcorn! And it was fun! The movies! What happened in the plot again? I don't know, let's erase it all in the Season 6 premiere. It's fine.

Also it is like a tenth as weird as IWTB. Hahaha

[primroseyunho]

ateez as nyu guys

❀ ot8 ❀ this is just crack i'm so sorry this will make no sense if you don't go to nyu or have no real knowledge of it ❀ warnings/tags: crack, college!ateez, i cannot emphasise enough how stupid this is for real read at your own risk kiddos ❀ a/n: this is just for funsies for me to let out feelings about the guys i go to college with at this silly purple school (aka nyu) i go to lmAO and also to ease my way back into writing again. pls don't take any of this seriously lads ❀ word count: 1257

❀ kim hongjoong

nyu school: tisch

major: music production

not one of the clout chasing tisch kids but all the ones who are like that are totally obsessed with him

probably is doing a minor in politics or linguistics bc we know this boy loves to overwork himself

doesn't realise that all the girls who try to talk to him are flirting and not just being friendly

if you're classmates and you miss a day, he totally lets you borrow his notes ugh he'd be so sweet

i feel like he's the guy who you share friends with but don't actually know you're all mutual friends

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 6/10 because even though he's lovely i will always be wary of tisch boys and also don't overlap with them a bunch because i am a boring pre-law gal and not an art student

❀ park seonghwa

nyu school: stern

major: business

listen, yall, i cannot tell u how saddened i am to associate the angel of all heavens with st*rn but we gotta be honest with ourselves

best boy hwa is going to school for practical purposes

he would be one of the only four valid sternies ever all the rest of them can choke

he is a classy boi and fits in well with the whole rich kids vibe

he would mostly be friends with non-sternies or stern women

he is that bitch who rolls up to class at 8am in full designer looking like he got off a runway whilst the rest of us look like trash

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 6.5/10 he lost points because god stern kids are the worst and also we all feel such deep disgust and envy at the fancy looking 8am kids and that is exactly the kind of nyu guy seonghwa would be. he gained points though for being a stern guy who i wouldn't want to murder - that's a very difficult feat

❀ jeong yunho

nyu school: cas

major: data science

maybe not data science exactly but he definitely is a stem kid it's just the ~vibes~

he's a real one who would help my humanities ass pull through in the required science classes

is an elevate mentor (stem mentor program for high schoolers) and loves it so much

definitely used to accidentally mansplain all the time freshman year before he knew better

100% no doubt is part of the competitive frisbee team (yes that's a thing)

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 10/10 i can guarantee i'd see him in the kimmel cafeteria and would be texting all my friends about how rude and borderline illegal it is for him to be hot whilst shoving his face full of food. totally would flirt with him if we had class together

❀ kang yeosang

nyu school: gallatin

major: who tf knows

okay so quick context for this one, gallatin is where kids can literally design and make up their own major. literally they can major in anything as long as they can defend and explain it to an advisor

feel like this is fitting because really what even is happening inside this beautiful man's head half the time - do you know? because i sure as shit do not

he's an undercover gym bro but he goes to 404 fitness, not the palladium gym which is why we like him still

is one of the washington square park skater bois

captain of the quidditch team (yes, that's also a thing too, i am not kidding)

he's the kid in class who doesn't talk much but when he does it's really fucking smart shit

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 10000/10 oh besties gallatin skater boys might be my kryptonite and that is vaguely humiliating but lets skate on past that. he's the guy in my class who makes me feel gooey inside when he says i've made a good point. definitely thought i was in love with him for fall semester but by spring we never see each other again </3

❀ choi san

nyu school: steinhardt

major: education

he's the guy i've been friends with since freshman year but still never remember what his major is sorry bestie

works at the ULC as a tutor

somehow knows everyone and is at every party you end up at

everyone is at least slightly in love with him even if they are totally platonic

is in parliamentary debate club, taekwondo team, and history society

..... okay maybe not history society but let me pretend since i'm the history society vice president

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 8/10 had a thing for him freshman fall (although i probably had a crush on everyone i met freshman fall) but then became very good friends and now it's all platonic. he fits into the description of two of my closest friends too well for me to envision romance in this scenario whoops

❀ song mingi

nyu school: cas

major: maths

i am on my smart kid mingi agenda yall don't appreciate or hype this man's intelligence nearly as much as he deserves

he's the overgrown puppy friend who doesn't realise that he looks big and scary

holds the heavy as shit doors at every nyu building open for you god bless

is in the presidential honors program

tragically he's probably a palladium gym bro

definitely gets high in the park and has probably tried acid lets be honest here

one of the safety guy friends at parties who i love because it means i can get inebriated without feeling unsafe

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 11/10 smart men who also satisfy my size kink rlly pull me in with such little effort. also i am frequently found painting and reading in the park whilst my friends get high with me babysitting them since i am almost always the only sober one. the tables turn when it's time to get drunk in the park though hehe

❀ jeong wooyoung

nyu school: tisch

major: performance studies

this dramatic little shit is a tisch kid through and through

such an extrovert and knows literally everyone ever

does performance studies because he's an all rounder over achiever

flirts almost as often as he breathes

has hooked up with at least one of your friends but isn't a dick in the aftermath

probably a micro influencer who posts tiktoks romanticising new york city life

how likely am i to have crushed on him: 6.5/10 i would definitely be friends with him but all the flirting gives off big banter chill vibes and not romantic ones. he's still hot though so like, i'd look every once and a while, ya know *wink wonk*

❀ choi jongho

nyu school: steinhardt

major: vocal performance

listen no one knows why vocal performance isn't in tisch (the literal arts school) and is instead in steinhardt but just go with it

has one of the most insane schedules because of all the private practices and rehearsals he has to attend

you'd meet him in a required core class and both struggle through it together

would share his table at bobst (the library) with no complaint wow what an angel

an unexpected and undercover pre-law kid - you'd only find out because you both went to a ULS meeting

also an undercover party boy you cannot convince me otherwise he is absolutely rooftop party crush material

fucks it up so good at open mic and karaoke nights

how likely am i to have crushed on him: infinity/10 no no see this is now a problem because i have created the perfect man in my head now and he doesn't exist in reality omfg jongho??? as a vocal performance guy???? who's PRELAW??? dream man

okay that's the end of me wishing i went to college with ateez love yall and you're insane if you've gotten this far askjfhkjaf lots of kissies for u all

[harrysweasleys]

are you ticklish? // c.d

summary: can i request cedric diggory baking with the reader? i just need a lil fluff in my life 🥺 i LOVE U AND UR WRITING SO MUCH I HOPE U KNOW THAT! THANKS!

warnings: there’s no plot. its just fluff, my friends.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: sorry this is so late! i have been having writer’s block for like two weeks now so production has been slow here lol. thank you all for being patient! (also i’m sorry this doesn’t involve baking per say, but i hope you enjoy anyways!)

——————

The smell of warm, gooey cookies filled your shared home with Cedric as you sat yourself in front of the oven, impatiently staring into the little window and counting down the fifteen minutes until they would be ready. It was hard to stay away from them, you thought. The smell was just teasing you — taunting you, as if saying ‘the cookies are in progress, but you can’t touch them just yet.’

Cedric, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his tea, fought the urge to chuckle as he watched you, seated comfortably on the floor with a blanket wrapped around you and a silly grin on your face.

Oh, how he adored you. Every little thing about you. From you desire to crack jokes only to see people laugh, to the way small things — like baking — would render you utterly happy. He had fallen for you all those years ago at Hogwarts, and never regretted a moment of it. You captured his attention as much now as you did all those years ago.

He watched, content as ever, while you eyed the timer above the stove.

“Come sit with me,” you reached out to him, giving him a soft smile that he knew he couldn’t say no to even if he wanted to.

He placed his mug down on the counter and leaned down, sitting on the cold floor and scooting as close to you as he could. His heart did a little flip as you lifted your arm and wrapped your blanket around him — he could smell you and feel the heat radiating off of your body. He really did love it.

“It smells nice in here,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He nodded softly before leaning his head against yours, lifting his hand and placing it atop your knee, “It does. Bet they’ll taste better than they smell.”

“Well, of course they will,” you scoffed, poking him in the side and causing him to jump slightly at the ticklish sensation, “Cookies always taste better than they smell. Besides, smelling them doesn’t put them in my belly.”

Cedric couldn’t fight the laughter that bubbled within him, the vibrations from his body causing you to let out your own laughter. He found your laughter infectious — unique in its own adorable way — so your laughter only egged him on to laugh harder.

The two of you were just sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket and staring at an oven, giggling away while the clock on the wall flashed 2:34am.

“Reckon we’ll have any left tomorrow?” Cedric found himself asking after a few moments of silence, the comfortable air in the room not previously needing to be broken by conversation.

“Nope,” you replied rather quickly, lifting your head off of his shoulder and giving him a toothy grin, “I’ll eat them all while we go watch telly in bed.”

Cedric had recently introduced you to a Muggle service called Netflix — which you had to admit, you really liked. It was hard to go to sleep without watching a few episodes. The two of you had recently started a new series and were up late binging it — only, you had had no snacks. 

That’s how the two of you ended up in the kitchen at this hour of the morning, the smell of chocolate cookies wafting through the quiet apartment and the low rumble of your stomach signalling your impatience.

Beep!

Cedric stumbled over as you jumped up, picking your wand up off of the counter and opening the oven. He was eye-level with the blast of heat that emerged, causing him to grimace and stand up hastily, waving his hands in front of his face.

“Oh, the smell of joy,” you grinned, eyeing the cookies as you lifted your wand, lifting the tray out of the oven and placing it atop the stove. The smell was now ten times stronger that they were out of the oven, and even Cedric couldn’t fight the hungry grumble in his belly.

He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder, “They don’t smell as good as you, though.”

He grinned to himself as a blush rose on your cheeks, the corners of your lips curving up. You always became rather flustered at his compliments — one of the many reasons he loved showering you with them any chance he could get. The way that your cheeks and ears turned pink as the shy smile grew on your face — it was one of Cedric’s favourite things.

“Oh, such a smooth talker, Ced,” you giggled, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck, his still wrapped comfortably around your waist. You could feel the heat coming off of him, surrounding your flushed body comfortably and making the dingy tile floor feel less freezing against your bare feet.

“You know it,” he smirked, leaning forwards and pressing a light kiss against your nose, “Theres no one else I’d want to make cookies with at 2am.”

You nodded your head, “Same here.” And it was true — there was no one else you’d want to do this with. Cedric was it for you, no one else would ever come close. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. They were familiar and warm, but they didn’t fail to make sparks fly in your belly no matter how many times you kissed. The feeling of kissing him was intoxicating — intoxicating enough you nearly forgot about the baked goods sitting on a tray behind you.

Cedric, however, couldn’t care less about the cookies at this point. He was utterly lost in your touch, in your kiss, in your smell. He didn’t want to stop and there was nothing in the world that could change his mind.

“They’re gonna get cold,” you pulled away from him slightly, mumbling against his lips.

“I’m afraid I don’t care,” he replied, wanting to pull you closer and continue kissing you until the sun came up and brightened the dim kitchen. 

You giggled, lowering your hands down from his neck to his waist, poking him in the sides and causing him to jump back. He screeched slightly at the ticklish sensation, pulling his lips away from yours and glaring you down.

“Well,” he brushed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes, “That’s not fair.”

You raised and eyebrow, winking at him, before turning around to face the cookies, “They’re gonna get cold!”

Without waiting for him to retaliate, you picked up a cookie off of the tray, the softness and heat of it causing it to crumble slightly in your hand before you shoved the whole thing in your mouth.

You had been utterly wrong about them getting cold, however, because the second the cookie hit your tongue, it felt like it was on fire. The chocolate was scalding and your tongue felt fuzzy immediately. You let out a small cough and opened your mouth.

“I’m going to guess by your expression that they’re not cold?” Cedric smirked, placing his hands on his hips.

You gave him a glare, eating the cookie with your mouth open to cool it down, “I have made a terrible mistake.”

He nodded slowly, pursing his lips, “Karma for the tickling.”

You continued awkwardly chewing your cookie, glaring him down with narrowed eyes. His smirk never faltered, however, and the second that you swallowed your burning cookie, he lunged forwards with his arms out and his hands went straight to your sides.

You let out a loud yelp at the feeling, the ground beneath your feet disappearing as he lifted you up, wrapped you in his arms, and tickled you like there was no tomorrow. His laughter was bouncing off of the small kitchen walls as you began kicking and pushing him, hoping to get some sort of relief from the ticklish torture.

“Ced! Stop!” you gasped for breath through your laughter and shouting, hoping your neighbours down below wouldn’t hate you too much for causing such a ruckus at this early hour. Your laughter echoed through the small apartment as you struggled to breathe properly.

“Stop!”

“Fine, fine,” Cedric sighed dramatically, placing you down on the ground and standing above you. You finally touched the floor with your feet and let out a sigh of relief, the ghosting feeling of his hands on your waist making a shiver run down your spine. Cedric had always loved tickling you every chance he could get — but you, on the other hand, enjoyed it a little less.

You looked up at him, his eyes bright and his smile practically radiant. You couldn’t even bring yourself to pretend to be mad at him with that look on his face. He looked like a giddy child — a giddy child that had just received the exact gift he wanted on Christmas morning. And for some cruel reason, tickling you had been the gift he had longed for.

“Tickling should be a form of torture, you know,” you pulled down the hem of your shirt from where it had ridden up moments before, “I’d spill all of my deepest darkest secrets.”

His eyebrow cocked up and a glint of playfulness was evident in his eyes, “Oh, deepest darkest secrets, you say?”

Immediately regretting how close you were standing to him, you dodged his hands and took off towards the living room, Cedric’s loud footsteps letting you know he was chasing after you.

He was a rather quick runner, this you knew, but luckily he was in a playful mood and therefore was letting you outrun him as you darted down the hallway to your shared bedroom, continuously avoiding his grabby hands and the mischief in his eyes.

Unfortunately for you, the cookies had now long been forgotten.

——

taglist

@grierpilots​

@hxfflxpxffs​

@mikumana​

@msmimimerton​

@pit-and-the-pen​

@diary-of-an-onliner​

@theweirdsideofstuff​

@thoseofgreatambition​

@theweasleysredhair​

@haphazardhufflepuff​

(message me to be added!)

[domesticdeanwinchester]

so Dean owns an apple orchard.

his property is pretty big, big enough to fit his precious orchard, a modest little house for himself, Sam, and Eileen, and a converted barn with a front porch he installed himself that he uses as his business front. the barn doors are always open, and there's a wall full of fridges filled with jugs of his apple cider and frozen premade pastries and pies, ready to get popped in the oven. there's a whole bakery case dedicated to the pies he bakes daily, all kinds of flavors made with home grown berries and apples. there's another bakery case for the rest of the pastries he makes, the fritters and turnovers and cookies and everything. the rest of the barn is filled with little displays for crafts. Dean likes to whittle and carve in his free time, and if he makes something he likes enough he'll pop an affordable price tag on it and stick it on one of the shelves. Eileen has decided to sell some of her handpainted signs and those weird little apple core dolls she likes to make. she and Sam like to help out at the store, working behind the counters while Dean bakes or helps people with the apple picking tools.

Dean uses his apples to make his own apple pies, apple fritters, apple turnovers, even apple cookies when he's feeling it. he's attempted apple donuts as well, but those never turn out as delicious as the main orchard's do, so he doesn't do those often. he also presses his own fresh apple cider, and he keeps a giant igloo cooler full of it on the porch with a stack of paper cups next to it so people can taste test. there's a sign next to it that says "one cup per person" but he always turns a blind eye when the kids come back for seconds or thirds.

Dean's orchard is one that's included on the local map of orchards and farms that people go crazy over every fall and make the drive to visit for their yearly fix of all things apple and pumpkin. during the peak season he joins in on the festivities and lets some of his friends set up their craft stalls in the space in front of the barn. Claire sells funky colored candles she makes herself, Kaia sells hand made jewelry and beaded dreamcatchers. Pamela Barnes tells fortunes and sells tarot cards. Charlie hand dyes tie dye shirts and has the most colorful stand of them all.

every year people from all over flock to his orchard for his goodies and these booths, families strolling through the stalls, admiring the beautiful crafts before taking their sample of cider and then heading inside to buy a jug to take home, and a few apple pastries to boot. no one ever leaves without something. Sam and Eileen are good like that.

Jody and Donna love to visit Dean's orchard every season, and they'll stop by often in the off season as well. They have a place of their own up the road, and they quickly became close friends with the Winchester clan. Garth and his family are another set of regulars, they live in the area too, and they visit every season for their fall fill. His kids have a fondness for Eileen's apple core dolls.

one season brings a new face to the mix. Two new faces, actually.

Castiel and his four year old son, Jack. They visit the orchard, drawn in by the hand painted sign boasting apple picking that Sam staked in the front drive so passing cars could see.

that's something they do here, too. Apple picking. It's one of the most popular things about his orchard. Dean's got a wide array of those fancy apple picking sticks, you know the ones with the basket at the end that cradles the apple ad you just twist until it falls loose into the bottom of the basket. they hang from the side of the barn, and whenever someone shows interest in picking apples, Dean will take them there, pass everyone a stick and a bag and explain to them how to use the sticks and how to know which apples are ripe for the picking. then he points the groups to the little path into the orchard and sends them on their way. it's always a joy to see the groups when they come back, bags straining from their fill of apples, dirt smudged faces with huge grins and happy eyes.

on their first visit, Cas and Jack take their time walking through the craft stalls, and Jack points out every shiny thing and every pretty color. Cas buys him a tie dyed t-shirt and a pretty blue dreamcatcher. when Jack sees the apple cider cooler he practically drags Cas over and makes him pour them each a cup. Jack drinks his quickly, smacking his lips and letting out a loud "yummm". he tugs on Cas's coat and holds his cup out, tilting his head. "more?" he asks. and Cas points at the sign and tells Jack, "we're only supposed to have one each, Jack. maybe we can get some to take home, though." Jack lights up at that, but before they can head inside the barn, Dean is there and he's pouring another cup and sliding it over to Jack and holding a finger to his lips like it's some sort of secret, then he winks over at Cas. "you didn't hear it from me, but the sign's usually just a suggestion," he tells them. Cas chuckles, and before he can thank Dean for his kindness, Dean's jerking his chin towards the jug and dropping his eyes to Cas's empty cup. "go on,, fill 'er up. i know you want to," he says. Cas hesitates but then Dean waggles his eyebrows and Cas laughs again and fills his cup. "thank you, it's very good." "yeah?" Dean asks, grinning. his chest sort of puffs up a bit and he leans an elbow against the railing. "made it myself," he says casually. Cas's eyebrows shoot up and he's like "oh, wow, that's incredible. it really is amazing." and Dean's cheeks pink a little under the praise and he's like "well thanks, there's more inside if you want to take some home with you." (bc of course he's not going to miss an opportunity to pitch his product a little lol).

Cas and Jack head inside with Dean and they talk about the place a little more and the subject eventually circles to the apple picking, and Jack perks up at that, and Cas mentions that that's why they stopped here. and Dean grins and takes them to the side of the barn where the apple picking tools are, and he goes through his whole spiel, but Cas, poor guy, doesn't seem to understand how the apple picking stick works, so Dean offers to go with them and show him. and so Dean ends up heading into the orchard with them and he shows Cas how to use the stick, and he goes so gooey inside when Cas lights up when he successfully picks his first apple. and god, if he felt like that when Cas did, then when Jack picks his first apple, hoisted up by Cas, Dean positively melts. it's adorable.

they talk a lot while they pick apples, about anything and everything. getting to know each other, telling stories, laughing, smiling, having a good time.

when they finally head back to the barn, it's getting dark. Dean rings Cas's apples and cider and pastries (bc of course he goaded Cas into buying some of those, not that it was difficult) and Dean walks Cas and Jack back to their car because he doesn't want his time with them to end. and once Jack is buckled in, Cas stops next to Dean who's standing there with his hands in his pockets, and Cas just smiles softly at him and Dean goes "hope I see you around," and Cas grins and maybe steps forward to kiss his cheek real quick, and goes "you will" before getting in his truck and driving off.

and Dean does see Cas again. Cas and Jack become regulars at the orchard, coming back for more apples and more cider often. they like to hang around sometimes, too, and everyone with a craft stall there takes a liking to Jack too.

and maybe the end of the peak fall season is starting to come to a close, and Dean is worried that that means his seeing Cas will come to an end, too, but then he learns that Cas and Jack just moved into the area, so they're really here to stay, and peak season or not, they're not going anywhere. and Cas mentions something about maybe opening his own booth here next season to sell honey from his bees.

and come next peak season, Cas doesn't need his own booth because his honey sits on its very own display case inside the barn right next to his boyfriend's pastries.

(and the following peak season, Dean and Cas end up getting married right in the middle of the apple orchard with their family and friends surrounding them and jack throwing handfuls of apple blossoms.)