#so these are regular length therefore too long for me

[cetoddle]

does anyone wanna hear me bitch about pants for the millionth time

[brucewaynehater101]

I need you to stop me from making another Tim Drake centric fic

I got this random idea that won’t leave me alone

like what if the emotional scars and trauma people have show up physically too most commonly as little cracks on the skin and all of the bats have them

they hide them tho with make up and stuff so people don’t question it except Tim hides them from everyone maybe bc that’s what his parents taught him to do maybe bc he just doesn’t want to burden any of the bats

the bats think that Tim is fine so to them he’s invincible which leads them to treat him as such subconsciously or otherwise especially Bruce

it takes a lot for something to be bad enough that they physically manifest and Tim has A LOT bc everyone thinks he’s invincible

:) it won’t leave me alone help me I beg of you

Hmm.... Let's add on, shall we? This is a very rad idea. You should definitely write a fic about it, but no pressure.

Mind if I explore it? Also, feel free to disregard any part below you don't want/disagree with. This is just brainstorming ^^

Alright. Emotional scars are a physical mark on someone's skin.

Similar to regular scars, they can fade as a person heals.

Some may never disappear, and some only appear for a short time.

What would their color be?

Would they look like actual cracks in a person (so black-ish in color)? Would they be gold or multi-colored (different colors represent different kinds of emotional traumas)?

The level of hurt inflicted is directly proportional to the size (length and width) of the scar.

Perhaps more could be deduced from the general shape (is it jagged? A single line? Branching?)

Not all people have these marks

Most of the population manifests them. There's some prejudice against folk who don't [something something they are heartless, incapable of feelings, not able to be emotionally hurt, cold, detached, etc.], but hiding scars is also common. Therefore, it's harder to discern whether someone is hiding their marks or markless. It's a very fine line, so most people allow a smaller mark to show every once in a while. There's even a few trends to proudly display all marks.

Marks appear at the time of the emotional harm

It may not be apparent at the time due to the location, but the individual being hurt will manifest the mark at the very moment of emotional harm.

Anyways, that's the background stuff. Fun, but let's get into Tim specifically ^^

Tim's parents are part of the few who believe that showing off your scars to anyone, even your loved ones, is both a weakness and a way to guilt-trip people. Therefore, through their archeology studies, they managed to obtain magical objects to prevent the showing of emotional marks. It's similar to glamor.

Tim's object can change forms to suit his needs (so a ring at one moment and an earring the next). This ability prevents the Bats from discovering it.

Janet fakes a very small mark on her hand when she wants to discourage any rumors that's she's incapable of manifesting marks. For Tim, though, his parents wanted him to have rumors of being incapable of forming marks. It served their purpose better for him being the cunning Drake heir.

The deception started from birth, so no one but the Drakes know of Tim's ability to form marks [and the Drake parents never see the marks they leave behind on their child].

The Waynes, long before Tim entered their life, were aware of these rumors. Thus, when Tim demands to become Robin, he doesn't correct their assumptions.

Bruce is a callous fucker to Tim at the start. If Tim can't be hurt emotionally, then Bruce's ill-treatment of him is fine (which is flawed logic. The markless can be emotionally hurt, and they still deserve kindness, dignity, and respect even if they couldn't. Bruce was mentally fucked up, but it doesn't excuse his treatment).

Eventually, Bruce comes to the second realization that Tim should still be treated well even if it doesn't hurt him regardless. The man's behavior is better, but he still has the notion in mind that Tim can't be emotionally hurt. He uses this for missions and to downplay the way his other kids treat Tim (specifically Jason and Damian when they first meet Tim).

Tim gets used to a rotation of insult-names: Robot Robin, heartless, markless (said insultingly), cold-blooded, unfeeling bastard, etc.

He's also subject to a TON of misunderstandings. People are more reluctant to love him due to the belief that he can't love them back. He gets yelled at and told off for "masking/faking his emotions" when he's actually being genuine.

Which adds to his hurt :)

He also has to pretend not to grieve his parents when they die :(

Due to how rare markless are, the Bats don't meet "another" one until after the BruceQuest. When they chat with this person, they realize how many misconceptions they have about them (such as the markless being incapable of feelings. In fact, they accidentally offend that person when they tell the other they don't need to fake their emotions in front of the Bats. Safe to say, the markless individual becomes incensed when they realize how they've been treating their own markless family member).

This would be at least four (probably closer to five) years after Tim first became Robin. The entire family has a meltdown.

Tim, on the other hand, is used to the treatment the Bats have been giving him and becomes incredibly uncomfortable with them trying to care for his feelings and whatnot. It's rocky for a long while as everyone tries to seek forgiveness for something Tim bitterly doesn't hold against them (he is lying to them after all).

Tim rarely, if ever, views his own marks. The last time he checked was when he was having his identity crisis after Robin was taken from him. His entire body, from head to toe, had cracks in it. There was a giant, gaping crack on his back for the metaphorical stab in the back it was.

And we haven't even gotten to when the Bats figure out Tim was never markless :)

[foxsoulcourt]

An unassuming cheese-monger

It's truly amazing how much you can learn by listening and observing.

Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today Javone. Can I get you a cuppa? Why don't you look over the cheeses and pick two or three you would like to try. I'll make us a plate and we can go sit over in that quiet corner.

As I said earlier, my name is Harriet and I’ve been a cheese-monger in this shop for many years. Before you ask me your questions, let me give you some context for why I contacted your office.

I'm worried. Several of my regular customers have not been in the store in over a week. If it was just one or two of them, especially that particularly handsome one with the gorgeous suits, I wouldn't worry. We often don't see him for weeks at a time. But the others? I'm not sure I can convey to you how unusual their collective absence is, especially for this length of time.

How do you like the Port Salut? I'm glad to see you chose it because it's one of my favourites. Understated, but consistently delicious. Such a lovely texture too.

Now, while many different types of customers frequent our shop, we are known by busy professionals in the area. They count on us for a reliable source of high quality meats, cheeses, beverages, biscuits, and breads. You probably know that type of customer. Those executives who work long hours and rarely set time aside for regular meals, yet still want to eat and drink well while working. We show our gratitude for their steady patronage with delicious goods, prices, and hours which match their needs.

Even though we are not supposed to know many details beyond their name, a career retail employee like myself learns to pick up subtle clues about even casual customers.

Therefore Javone, I can reliably tell you several SIS senior staff frequently shop in our store. Partly it's due to our quality merchandise and, frankly, because we open at the crack of dawn and don't close until very late. It also helps we are an easy ten minute walk away from their home office through Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens. That's just the right amount of time to clear your head after a troublesome meeting, isn't it?

Excuse me young man, did I say something funny? Oh, is it that name? I know, it seems a bit silly, but no need to snicker. <clears throat> Now, back to our mutual concern. I believe I have information you want, is that correct?

Over the years both Mr Tanner and Ms Moneypenny have become particularly friendly. They're terribly kind, both of them and they work such long hours. It's been through helping them I've learned to separate out which cheeses Mr Mallory prefers from the ones he does not care for, the beverages that gentleman in the beautiful suits prefers, and which biscuits to keep in stock for the often distracted younger man with the ever changing hair styles and glasses. He's always so kind to me. I really like talking with him.

Which explains why when I didn’t see any of them come through our doors this past week, I became concerned. They rarely all come in on a daily or even weekly basis, but not seeing any of them this past week felt downright odd. I knew immediately something horrible had happened.

Now Javone, what can you tell me? What do you know? And how can I help you?

[yridenergyridenergy]

Phalaris Vol.II - Zepp Nagoya day 2 [2023/05/13] live report

SETLIST

Schadenfreude

13

Uroko

Mouai ni Shosu

Ningen wo Kaburu

Devote My Life

Hibiki

Utsutsu, Bouga o Kurau

Eddie

GRIEF

Gaika, Chinmoku ga Nemuru Koro

Otogi

The Perfume of Sins

ENCORE

Dozing Green (acoustic)

un deux

T.D.F.F.

Sustain the Untruth

Revelation of mankind

Today had a much better mood! Thankfully, I had chosen a regular ticket to experience the show from a bit farther this time, and Zepp Nagoya's barriers efficiently prevent the semi-moshpits that can occur in other venues such as feu-Studio Coast, KBS Hall last weekend, etc. Therefore, we each had plenty of personal space. On top of that, it felt like the floor was dipping toward the stage, so everybody has a fair chance to see the members. I'll try to remember that for future tours.

To be honest, being in shimote around the centre of the venue's length, I thought Kyo would still be disappointed because I could hear /nobody/ around me shouting the lyrics when Kyo asked us to. My voice doesn't carry, and yet it was the only one that could be heard in my whole section. I guess that the crowd at least moved more today though, because despite my witnessing that it wasn't lively, Kyo felt like it was much greater than yesterday - that's all that matters!

(Seriously, you have GOT to read after the break!)

The band members were wearing basically the same clothes as for the a knot 25th anniversary live show last weekend in Kyoto, namely Toshiya's white lace veil and Kaoru's leopard pants, hive-patterned suit jacket. And yeah, his hair is definitely brown, not sure how I hadn't noticed yet. His makeup below his cheekbones seemed heavier today.

Schadenfreude seemed more emotional today. And we knew that more of us had to give it our all today, so we got really into it. Kyo did the first few: "Ikedomo jigoku ka", once clenching his shirt like he meant it more today than ever before, making another reference to yesterday's disappointment. One thing about the images shown in the backdrop that I hadn't noticed is that the rainbow part of the lyrics may correspond more to the aftermath of the huge forest fire, and there is a horned Devil shown at some point. Near the end, we see a skull carved in a gigantic rock in a sort of jungle too.

After that first song, Toshiya unlaced his long white tie and demanded our cheers. 13 started and I got so into that song, but at the same time, I feared a repeat of yesterday. I think it was either then or during the first song that Kyo did turn around briefly, for a few seconds while he was singing, but maybe those occasions really were to show us the kind of anarchist symbol on the back of his shirt, which was apparently from G.I.S.M. again. Anyway, that song rocks so hard, especially the part about: "You change, to whose intention?" Kyo required us to sing the backup vocals that Die is supposed to take care of in response to his own lines: "Never die - in the dark, Never die - in the heart of, Koko ga subete - here is everything, Never die - never die". He didn't do much in reference to being hanged this time, but he did come up on his crate slowly.

I think it was then during Uroko, again my cue being that the lighting was flashing white, that Kyo came left and right on the stage as if to make sure that we were being active. He didn't seem pissed, more encouraging and optimistic. He was determined today to have us sing the: "Anata shidai de", after having asked us if we could become one.

Ningen wo Kaburu followed that energy, as Kyo had us sing a lot of the lines. The band had a strong presence for that song too.

During Mouai ni Shosu, the people near me didn't seem to really know the song. It wasn't too clear, but Kyo wanted us to sing: "The pride and prejudice" but I couldn't hear anybody else but my voice. He pointed from side to side so swiftly whenever singing: "Docchi ga? Docchi ga ii?", as well as in the lyrics about not knowing the name, like it referred directly about us fans. In the background video, there were glasses being filled with wine rotated at three different angles, followed by a flow of rose petals.

Devote My Life may have also been one of the songs during which Kyo did check-ups on each side of the crowd to make sure everyone was alert.

Hibiki was very heartfelt, but there isn't much of a highlight that comes to my memory. People only put their hands up a couple of seconds after they realise that the chorus of the song, the climax, has arrived. Oh, maybe that was the song in which Kyo started by hitting his chest repeatedly with the mic, then again a bit later, kind of off-beat with the drums.

For today's Utsutsu, Bouga o Kurau, Kyo was energetic. Even if he didn't seem awfully pleased witn the intensity of our "Nanananana naze nanda?", he didn't let it upset him.

Same thing with Eddie, people were barely singing the "kusomamire" as prompted, but the band was energetic. I can't remember what song it was, but Kyo did two wide stomp moves with his left leg during today's show. I'm quite sure one was in Eddie, asking us to destroy our necks and all.

GRIEF didn't see Kyo mock our clapping this time, but he did go onto his crate and hyped us up. We moved in a really synchronized mass. Always nice to take a peek at Kyo's mic cord whipping in between some headbanging.

Gaika, Chinmoku ga Nemuru Koro seemed to be a fan favourite. Kyo ended on whistle screams and growls. For this and at the end of several songs, I was the one to initiate cheers with my: "Ouais!!", otherwise there would have at best been a few awkward seconds of silence before somebody else dared to break the mold, or at worst, an entire awkward silence after a lot of the songs until the band moved on to the next song. So keep that in mind: don't be afraid to be the outlier in the crowd. The uniformity in Japan is very strong and nobody wants to stand out. As soon as the song ends and that you're not disturbing the performance, it's free for all - whether cheering or clapping. They'll let a silence go by just because nobody dares to be the one to do the first move.

The atmosphere then changed drastically for Otogi, as it got more serious. I couldn't help myself and swung to that beat. Did I ever mention that Otogi's background video illustrates a lot of sand, desert, the moon, but also a DNA helix that is kind of frozen, and eventually breaks from one end to the other.

For The Perfume of Sins, Kyo did use his mic stand today! God, it's always nice to hear him growl: "Nose, Eyes, Ears". Today, he decided to sing: "The sound of the brain dying" much more high-pitched, kind of in a deranged voice, compared to the usual growling or low singing.

The song ended and it was mainly the rest of the band who returned their instrument to their technicians and headed out. Kyo stayed a bit and I think he called out to Nyagoya, mic-less, before leaving for the break.

We called for the encore for what seemed like a long time. Shinya finally came out, as usual wearing tight black jeans and a black tour T-shirt. Die had some black top that I think had some long layers, with short black shorts and the leather interlacing tights that he posted on Instagram at the beginning of the tour. Toshiya kept his dress and shorts as usual and changed for a black sleeveless dress shirt. Kaoru kept his leopard print pants and had a classy black dress shirt. Kyo simply changed his shirt for the tour merch, The Sound of the Brain Dying one, but he still had the spiky choker.

Then, the techs brought out the chairs and we knew we would be getting acoustic Dozing Green. You can feel the drums so heavily especially in that song, it's like a gust of wind and a small earthquake at the same time. Kyo had his eyes mostly shut for the entire song.

Un deux felt like it was half sung by us, half by Kyo hahah. Sometimes in unison.

T.D.F.F. was so fun, with a majority of the fans jumping, shouting "hey" and "fucker" when needed. However, the biggest highlight was Kyo doing the finger guns toward Toshiya as he got on the ledge and played his bass solo in that song. Like: "Wow check this guy out now!"

I can't remember the song, but it was definitely in the encore that I noticed what has been described as Kaoru making love to his guitar. I just turned my head and there he was, holding his guitar diagonally with its head upward, the base held close to his crotch, and he had his head a bit tilted, eyes slightly shut and with his mouth agap, from what I remember. All that in the leopard pants and clean black dress shirt. Gosh, was it T.D.F.F. or Sustain the Untruth?

Sustain the Untruth was way more fun and special today. Kyo almost immediately went right, then left, even basically preventing Toshiya from taking position where he had meant to be, in front of his amassed fans, which briefly seemed to tick Toshiya off but he moved on elsewhere. Kyo was busy asking every portion of the crowd to shout: "the inside mind", which again I could barely hear from others around me, but Kyo did shoot two ripped fox kisses from his mouth steadfastly toward shimote after our performance, barely looking anymore as he turned sideways to head back to the centre, so I guess it was satisfactory. He also got us to sing a lot of the song with him too.

The last song came and we were cheering so much for the whole band, but Kyo the most. He started with: "Nyagoyaa!" and we replied with even higher shouts. Then he went: "Nyagoyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" prolonging that a on and on until he ran out of breath and we tried to keep cheering for as long as he did too. He asked if we could keep going, if we were still alive. We were all jumping with our hands raised but apparently something was up with a group in shimote near the front because Kyo kind of blinked when he peered there and said: "Oops, they're already dead". Apparently he also said something about us going home wet and asking if we understood then, but it seemed to me that I was the only one who was sweating huge drops. In any case, he kept asking if we could go on, called the Last Song with his finger raised as high as possible, then closed with something like: "Now die!" As Revelation of mankind started, he wished our heads goodbye and slashed his throat before a headbanging section during the song too.

As the song ended, Kyo stood on his crate looking at us with satisfaction. I clapped and we all cheered, then he eventually nodded and clapped slowly with us too. Shinya drummed the last epic beats of the night and the band concluded with a bang. Kyo stayed there and began doing finger hooks or just pointing all over the place, starting with the balcony of exclusive ticket holders, poking his chest with his thumb over his heart. He did that left and right, from back to front, until he reached the section right in front of him, which he just emotionlessly stared at for a couple of seconds, causing that part of the crowd to erupt in cheers even more. At that, Kyo eventually erupted wide-eyed and shot them a hooked finger and shouted tauntingly without the mic as if the longer he did it, the more he was outlining the link with that section. With everyone saluted, he clapped his final goodbyes and left the stage.

Shinya came up to throw his drum sticks, sending one quite far but another seemed like it must have hit a couple of fans dead in the face because it was sent rather horizontally.

Toshiya threw picks left and right, all smiles once again. He also threw water, the bottle, and a towel very farm. He seemed really apologetic thar his towel did not reach the designated pointed location in the crowd, which honestly appeared unrealistic, probably the second floor balcony. He left with a bow while Kaoru and Die were still swirling picks into the crowd, alternating at the sides of the stage. Kaoru did his trick again of keeping the last pick in his palm while everybody looked around frantically to see where it went. He came back a second time with a bottle of water to spray as many people with it, as well as a towel. Die stood to his right at some point while he did that, looking at us sideways with a foot on the ledge, staring at us with a smile that was incontestably lusty. Then he returned to the right side, kamite, to continue distributing stuff, like a towel too. We cheered "DieDieDieDieDieDie" again to his modest joy. Kaoru meanwhile kept his cool of course and was waving his last goodbye, taking his time to look at us and bask in the cheers. This made Die come his way at the same time to exit the stage, which is in the opposite order as they usually do, or at least never simultaneous like that. So Kaoru acted surprised, very positively surprised, opening his arms wide to welcome Die and invite him away on the left side of the stage to exit. As Die neared him, he placed his arm on Die's shoulders and they left with bright smiles on both of their faces, to everybody's excitement!!

[beewithknee]

flood me like atlantic (1)

Asher has strayed down a dark path. There's one person who can pull him out of it.

Will the reality of Asher's life be too much and scare his beloved away? Or will it draw them closer together and create new love?

c.w - drug use, implied self-harm, implied sexual assault

The blue light overhead was purposeful. Asher knew it all too well. Had been dealing with its effects for decades.

The blue light was murder. More accurately, it was suicide.

Preventing veins from being seen, and therefore injected into, was its goal.

Didn’t stop him though.

The needle slid through his skin, his eyes closed to feel. He knew what veins felt like.

It was easier to try blind, than in the glow of the blue light. The club’s bathroom wasn’t clean, but it wasn’t filthy either.

Asher knew what the assumptions were; that stereotypical junkies didn’t care about cleanliness, only wanted the next high. While it wasn’t entirely false, it wasn’t necessarily correct either.

He was an addict, sure. But he was never one to disgrace his own form with used needles and cut-products. No, the man was far more intelligent than that.

With a relieved sigh, he pushed the liquid directly into the source. He half-gasped as it hit, pupils blowing unnaturally wide and mind slowly quieting.

Precision didn’t particularly matter if he got high. The sutures on his other arm were still healing, being forced to use his non-dominant hand.

The world adopted its regular fuzzy view and suddenly he found himself grinding on the dance floor.

Strangers' hands pawed at the flimsy shirt he was wearing.

Fingers tucked under his waistband.

Lips tore at his neck.

He loved it. He lived for it. To be used and abused was his prophecy.

The bass thundered in his head, blurring his vision further. He swayed dangerously, feet unstable and unfeeling beneath him.

Asher blinked sluggishly and found himself on his knees, hands fumbling with a belt.

Belt. Pants. Body.

Oh.

He opened his mouth, head tilting backwards while waiting to make himself useful. His mouth was invaded, hair twisted in a too-tight fist.

Nothing about it was unusual. The hand in his hair moved to cup his neck and Asher nearly purred at the soft touch.

Yes. He wanted to cry. Gentleness was foreign. Gentleness was abused. Gentleness was the antithesis of the Talbots.

He longed to be useful, if only to receive the quick cheek-pat and praise afterwards.

Scraps. That’s all he chased after.

The man above him grunted pleasantly and Asher’s stomach grew warm. Feasting on the sexual pleasure he was causing the stranger.

“Good whore. That's it.” No. Asher wasn’t a whore… was he? He had to. It was okay.

The man grunted again, hand gripping harshly at Asher’s neck, nails biting at the vulnerable skin there.

“C’mon whore, open that throat for me.” The sadist pinched the younger's nose, forcing him to choke and gasp around the length invading his airway.

“Good whore. Finally useful huh? Just had to force ya open.” A whore… if the man said so then that was surely what Asher was.

Darkness crept forward, wrapping itself around Asher’s heart, forcing the high to quit.

Abuse.

Death.

Pain.

All the bad feelings, the horrid thoughts, rushed forward.

Squeezing his eyes shut, the addict lunged forward, burying the cock in his throat and clenching. The man above him doubled over, cumming hard down his throat.

Tears bit harshly as the bitter cum flooded into his stomach.

Disgusting.

“Heh, nice party trick slut.” The sound of a belt buckle was all that could be heard through Asher’s overcrowded head. His knees vibrated against the floor, the music far too loud.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to feel safe. He wanted…. No. He couldn’t go running to him. Not again.

Standing on shaky knees, Asher pulled his signature smirk, “Come back next time, baby.” With a wink, he sauntered off, fingers already itching to find his next high.

The strobing lights were off-putting.

Too bright. Too flashy. Too fake.

“Hey gorgeous. You got a little present for me?” Asher sauntered up to his favourite dealer.

He wrapped around them, hands brushing along their shoulders, in an attempt of bribery.

“Hey beautiful. Yeah, I got your bags. I got X, speed, or caps. Take your pick.” The dealer smirked, leaning down to whisper in Asher’s ear, tongue tracing it as they did.

“Whatever you owe me from last time, Jay.”

Jay huffed, “Okay baby. Do I at least get a kiss for my hard work?”

Kissing Jay wasn’t unpleasant, their tongue piercing made it quite fun. But Asher just didn’t-

A hand cupped his cheek, bringing him out of the fog.

“Hey baby. You okay?” Jay’s eyebrows were furrowed, eyes searching Asher’s hazy ones.

The man scoffed, “Of course, just thinking about how to finally get you into bed with me.”

And with that, he pulled Jay in.

Their lips danced over one another's, a practised routine at this point. Asher bit down on Jay’s lip before pulling away; a nice little tease.

“Ash-"

“Don’t... don't call me that. I’m your baby, c’mon Jay.” Asher whined, desperately trying to regain control of the situation.

Jay sighed, “Baby, you know if you ever wanna go, I’ll take you home. You don’t have to do all this.” Their eyes were sad.

They knew though, that Asher would never take them up on the offer.

They knew if they refused him the drugs, he’d just go to someone dirty.

Anything to keep the voices out.

Jay had been the same for a while.

“You know I’m fine, gorgeous. I’m always good.” He purred the last word into their ear. It was meant to be seductive, but it only came off as sad.

“Yeah… yeah you are.” They relented, not wanting to risk Asher. They passed off the drugs, and watched as he immediately downed two caps dry.

Yuck.

“Be safe baby. You know where to find me.” They faked a hug, hand reaching into Asher’s back pocket for his phone.

He laughed, “Copping a feel, are we gorgeous? You know this ass is always free for you.” He turned and stalked off.

“Fuck.” They sighed, opening his phone and finding the one person they knew would help, whether Asher would admit it or not.

[blackink-onpaper]

The Descend and the Resurface

Damian Hart (Beyblade) x OC

Summary: OC comes from a complex background, and in the midst of trying to save it all and help her family she enters a strange arrangement, which will change her life forever.

Masterlist 🖤

Tags: Beyblade, Beyblade Metal Masters, Julian Konzern, Jack, Damian, OC, Gingka Hagane, team Starbreaker, team Excalibur, dr. Ziggurat, Hades Inc.

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Also, please let me know what you think so far! It means a lot to me!

Chapter 5

Bewildered, I ripped the entire envelope apart and opened the letter:

Dear Miss Casilarghi,

You are hereby personally invited to come to Hades Inc. headquarters tomorrow at noon for a meeting with dr. Ziggurat.

This invitation also extends to a pick up at 11:30AM and return to your hotel with our chauffeur, a guided tour of the entire Hades complex and a complimentary lunch. We are looking forward to your arrival.

Best regards,

Dr. Ziggurat

CEO of Hades Inc. and Hades Academy

“Oh like fuck I will” I threw the letter into the trash: “I wasn’t even asked, they just let me know I am supposed to come! Hah, ridiculous” slowly sitting down on the bed again and running my hands through my hair, my thoughts continued: “Hades…” could it have anything to do with Kerbecs? With Starbreaker? A quick Google search later, I learned that Starbreaker is managed by this dr. Ziggurat, and that this academy is where they train their bladers. I also came across many articles about how Starbreaker members are the only three members of the Academy that were ever publicly acknowledged as graduates of the program. Apparently, many people apply and get accepted, but the majority get sent home eventually. One article even said all accepted candidates of the program need to sign iron-clad NDAs, but this was from a blog so I took it with a grain of salt. I was in a conflicted position: on one hand, I didn’t want to waste my time, which was meant to be dedicated to reconciling with Julian, on the guy who managed those lunatics from Starbreaker, but I also couldn’t help but wonder what he wants to talk about with me? This was all very suspicious, yet thought provoking. Drawing myself a warm bath to rest in, I decided to indulge dr. Ziggurat and see what he wants. After all, if I will want to leave I can. After this, I will get in contact with Julian and see if he recovered enough to speak with me.

For the meeting, I decided not to dress too formally. Even though I decided to indulge dr. Ziggurat with this meeting, I don’t plan on honouring him or his organisation by wearing my nice clothes. Therefore, I settled on a pair of ankle-length straight white jeans, and a black viscose tank top with a square neckline and thick straps, accessorised with a regular black shoulder bag and white sneakers. At 11:30 sharp, the chauffeur was in front of the hotel, holding the rear door of a big, black jeep open for me. The driver himself was dressed all in black, and was wearing black leather gloves and sunglasses. He greeted me with a polite, noticably trained smile as I settled into the vehicle. The seats were comfortable and soft, but the tainted side windows made me feel uneasy. The drive itself was not long, but it occurred to me that the reason why they sent a driver in the first place was because they want absolute control over who comes in, and who goes out. The Hades complex was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but dust and empty land. A circle of tall buildings built of sun-reflecting glass surfaces, which gave the city a kind of glow from a distance, surrounded a single skyscraper. Upon entering the city, I noticed that there was no one in the streets, maybe an odd man here and there. The driver pulled up in front of the tallest skyscraper, and another suited man opened the door for me.

“Welcome to Hades Inc.” A short, blonde woman greeted me with a neutral but pleasant voice. She accompanied me to the elevator, where she placed one of the highest floors.

“How come there is no one in the streets?”

She smiled mildly at me: “people are working! This is a company more than anything. Besides, this time of the day it gets too warm, and the solar panels work better if there are no disturbances.”

“But where are the employees’ cars then?”

“There are several levels of underground facilities in this complex, the first one featuring a garage” she spoke just a bit more lively than Siri or Alexa, but in a very similar manner. When the door opened, there was another frosted glass wall in front of us, the door of which required a finger print for enterance. Apparently, the glass wall was sound-proof, because when she let me in I could hear two men discussing something:

“Sir, your 12PM appointment is here.” the woman let me in and closed the door softly behind me.

Dr. Ziggurat sat straight across from me, seated behind a minimalistic black desk, with two chairs in front of it, and surrounded by light gray walls and carpet. There was a lot of natural light coming into the room through floor-to-ceiling windows, yet the room was at a comfortamble temperature.

Dr. Ziggurat got up from his seat, and walked over with a grin. When he stood up, I noticed he was much taller and skinnier than I expected. He extended his hand: “Camila, so nice of you to come!” He showed me to one of the seats in front of him. On the left side of the room was a two-seat black leather sofa supported by a silver metal rod, and a man with a short beard and thin glasses sat there.

“I am dr. Ziggurat, the owner of Hades Inc., and this is my colleague, dr. Carlisle. If it is not a problem, he would like to stay for this meeting.”

“You have a lovely complex, dr. Ziggurat” I employed a bit of charm my mother taught me: “I am really impressed by the design and upkeep of the entire facility.”

“We do try our best” Ziggurat smiled, before leaning back and looking at his tablet: “So Camila, I see here you speak 4 languages?”

I was just about to engage in this small talk, when I decided my time was more valuable: “Why am I here, dr. Ziggurat?”

He smiled again: “Straight to the point. Very well. Are you aware that I am the managing figure of the US representative team in this Beyblade championship?”

“Until now, I wasn’t” I lied, but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of admitting I Googled Hades Inc. last night.

“How did you like the battle yesterday, especially as a supporter of the European team?” He grinned and looked at me directly over his orange-tinted glasses.

“Doctor, am I really here to talk about that? Besides, I didn’t even watch it.” I blurted out, I don’t even know why.

“Now now, lying is not very ladylike. I’m sure you know that” He fixed his glasses: “Besides, we are well aware of your affiliation with Julian Konzern, and your recent… how shall I put it… change in this affiliation?” I stared at him, I did not know what to say. Yes, I was frequently photographed with him and his family, so I wasn’t unfamiliar to the occasional photo in the newspaper, or a mention in a gossip column, but this guy seemed to have more information on me than I would be comfortable giving if he directly asked me.

“We think you were not treated fairly by Julian, or Excalibur.” He lowered his tone a bit: “and after seeing your passionate support for the team regardless of the severed relationship, we could not help but want this extraordinairy woman for ourselves.”

“Excuse me for being so direct, but why are you interested in my personal life and disrespecting my privacy?”

“Please forgive me. I am a scientist, I’m not so good with words.” He explained, but I highly doubted that statement: “What I meant to say is; we think Julian and Excaibur treated you unfairly on a personal matter just as much as a professional one. You abandoned further studies and pursuits after graduation in order to support Julian, and were not compensated for the years of devoted service in any way. How is that fair?”

“I loved- I love him.”

“Yes, but do you see in what kind of a position he put you in? And left you in?” Ziggurat continued: “not to mention your family.”

In order to not come across as outraged, which I was, I took a moment of silence before I asked once more in a soft tone: “Doctor, why am I here?”

He smiled, this time a genuine one I think: “We would like to help you and your family by offering you a position at Hades Inc. with a generous salary. You would be working closely with the members of Starbreaker at a salary of your choice.”

I was absolutely baffled: “What?”

“We know you’re a supporter of the European team, but we hoped you might give our generous offer a thought.”

I thought about it, but how does any of this make sense? Who am I benefitting here? I could literally be ripping them off for vast sums of money? For what?

“And what would be the nature of my employment?”

“What an eloquent young lady” Ziggurat purred: “This is exactly what the boys need. We would like to hire you as… an assistant, shall we say. You would be living and working in the Starbreaker wing in order to bring a softer touch, and more team building among the members.”

Then the other doctor spoke up: “Their schedules are very densely organised, so we considered adding a feminine touch might help the boys feel more calm by bringing a more realistic environment to them. More balanced.”

“Balanced?” I asked, and I still wasn’t sure what my job would be exactly.

Ziggurat picked up this time: “We’ve seen your demeanour by Julian’s side, and we believe you would enhance our boys’ performance by providing them with a friendly, emotional support. Plus, the program of the Academy does not yet feature girls, so having a female presence might remind them of previous education, or of home.”

“And you would pay me whatever I asked to be a friend to the boys from Starbreaker?”

Carlisle cleared his throat: “by no means are we suggesting a particular kind of relationship, we would financially support your natural development of a relationship with the members of Starbreaker as a means of helping them reach their maximum potential.”

I accidentally snorted: “wait, you think I’d like to hang out with Jack and Damian after what they did to my friends yesterday?”

Both doctors chuckled: “Ah yes, Damian loves to take things too far to entertain the audience. And Jack is… simply extravagant.” Ziggurat explained, but I was not convinced at all. Enteratining the audience or being dramatic is completely different from torture and ridicule.

“I am sorry gentlemen but as of this moment I am not sure about this offer.”

There was a brief pause, before Ziggurat spoke up again: “Camila, you are a smart girl. You went to a prestigious school, and while all of your peers followed their dreams and potential, you were halted by your family’s lack of funds, yes, but primarily by a boy who asked you to drop everything to be by his side, only to leave you to fight your battle alone once things got too difficult for him to manage.”

“He never asked me.” I defended myself

“Not directly, no” Ziggurat left a moment of silence pass: “Consider our offer until this time tomorrow, and if you decide to join us, send a message to this contact.” He passed a card across the table, and leaned back in his chair: “Would you like a tour of the complex? Something to eat?”

Darting s look at the clock on the desk, I’ve noticed somehow an hour and a half passed, and I did not want to be here any longer: “Actually, I am still quite tired from yesterday. I would like to go home.”

After saying goodbye to both doctors, and promising to Ziggurat I would carefully consider his offer upon leaving the room, the door closed behind me cutting me off from the conversation the two doctors were about to have:

“She is very interesting” Carlisle massaged his temples: “not even typically pretty, she really has that subtle beauty.”

“Yes, she is very European” Ziggurat said, perhaps even sarcastically: “but she is exactly who we need in order to get what we want on all sides, and from what the investigators found her family is… quite desperate” He chuckled at this last part.

Carlisle looked at his colleague: ��Do you think your plan is going to work?”

“You’re the psychiatrist, dear friend.” Ziggurat poured a glass of whiskey, and handed it to Carlisle: “Besides, it’s all women are good for isn’t it?”

[sasquapossum]

How to Cut Your Own Hair

One of my favorite relatively-new skills is cutting my own hair. For years I had gone to a local barber which had been there so long it was practically an institution. Then I realized that all the old guys had been retiring, and the younger guys just weren’t doing as good a job (reasons for which I’ll get to later). Might as well go to Supercuts, I thought, so I did that for a few years. Then the pandemic hit. While all of my friends were getting every shaggier, I decided to try cutting my own. And if I can do it, I figure anyone with short straight hair can too. (I’d love to help people with longer or curlier/kinkier hair, but I’m afraid I just lack the experience to do so.) Anyway, here’s what you’ll need.

A set of regular clippers, with guards at various lengths.

A set of edging clippers (”T-bar”).

A good set of really sharp scissors that you don’t use for cutting other things - especially paper. The extra half-loop for a second finger is nice, but not required. And do not borrow your spouse’s fabric scissors. For one thing they’re the wrong shape (too heavy) and for another you’re likely to get yourself killed.

A hand mirror. I’m still using a little compact mirror that was originally my daughter’s, but that’s really not ideal. I keep reminding myself and then forgetting to buy a proper 6″ or so hand mirror.

A barber’s cape, to help keep the hair off your skin as much as possible. Also potentially useful on Halloween.

A hand vacuum, because the clippings will go everywhere no matter how hard you try.

Step 1: clear the area You’ll want to start by getting everything off your sink area - toothbrush, soap, shaving or beauty supplies, etc. Just put them in another room. Also, put on your cape.

Step 2: regular clippers Figure out how long you want your hair to be. You will almost certainly want a range of lengths, from the bottom in the back all the way to your part line and possibly beyond, For example, my style is not quite military but still pretty traditional “short back and sides”. Therefore, I start with a short #3 (7.5mm) in the back, then a bit of long #3 (9.5mm), then short #4 (10.5mm) on the temples and all around up to the part, and finally a long #4 (12.5mm) over the cowlicks at the very crown in the back. As long as you keep the steps small, you won’t need any scissor work to hide the transitions. Also, clear the clippers frequently. You don’t have to brush every last hair out - just a good shake will do - but if you let too much accumulate it will make it harder to maintain straight lines.

Before you put those clippers away, you can use them very carefully without a guard to reinforce the part line (assuming you have one). This is one of the trickiest parts, because getting the alignment right in the mirror feels very counterintuitive. Even after two years of doing this every month or so, I still have to fight the urge to turn the wrong way. Once I’m getting it, I go very lightly once with the handle pointing down (over my ears) and then a second time with the handle pointing up (over my head). The goal is to remove very little hair, just make the line a bit clearer.

Step 3: edging clippers This is just for the back. Again, figure out where you want your line to be. High or low? Square or rounded? For me it’s rounded, starting just a bit below the ears and “hanging” down a bit toward the middle. Again, getting the orientation right is tricky in the mirror, so take your time. Also, as you’re defining that line, make sure you bring the clippers quite a bit below the lines as well to get those hairs that are almost invisible now but will grow out within a week.

Step 4: scissors To be quite honest, I try to minimize scissor work during my actual once-a-month haircut. Mainly I just do enough to knock down any visible line between the top of where the clippers went and the still-bushier hair above that. The rest I do “as needed” in between cuts. Every week or so I look for places on the top or front that have grown most disproportional to the overall look, and cut them down just a bit to match. That makes the full cut a bit less jarring. In any case, whether you do it all at once or continuously, the principles are the same.

The most important thing here is patience. You can always do another pass to take a bit more off, but you can’t put it back right away. Make small cuts, both in terms of how many hairs you’re cutting and how much you’re shortening them by. Also, when you’ve picked up a lock of hair in your fingers, it’s better to cut along their natural lie instead of across. Even on my hair, which everyone who has cut it says is terrible for showing every cut mark, this makes the individual cuts all but invisible. Just take your time, be careful, and don’t be afraid to walk away if you’re uncertain. Also keep in mind that how your hair looks right now might not be quite the same as after your next shower, so be very conservative at this point. You can come back later.

BTW, this is where my barbers were failing me. The old guys know how to use comb and scissors to get closer than finger and scissors would allow. The younger ones don’t. Turns out that’s not even taught in hairstyling or cosmetology schools. One young woman at Supercuts told me that she wanted to go to barber school just to learn than, and good for her. Unfortunately, barbers are becoming rarer and barber schools might not be around much longer, so this is a dying art. I sure as hell never got the hang of it.

Step 5: cleanup No joke, this is likely to take longer than the cut itself. Hair - especially wet hair - is amazingly tenacious and hard to get all the way into the trash or down the drain. I’ve gained a lot of respect for barbers and hairdressers just for keeping their places clean, never mind the actual styling or barbering. First you want to collect as much hair as you can while it’s dry and throw it in the trash. Then take your mini vacuum and go top to bottom getting as much as you can. Finally, do the same with a sponge, again top to bottom. It’s tedious as hell, but it’s a necessary part of the job.

Next, go clean your body. Personally I like to take a shower immediately afterward, with plenty of shampoo, and I even “schedule” my cuts for days when I’m not already taking two showers because of exercise. This helps cut down on the amount of loose hair falling out for the next few hours, or getting on your pillow at night. It helps a lot. If you don’t do it this way, you’re going to be sweeping or vacuuming repeatedly over the next day at least.

Step 6: finishing After your shower, assuming you took my advice, go back and take another look. You will almost certainly find that things have “shifted” a bit, so use the scissors to clean up any newly appearing lines. Whether you do this or not, you’ll probably want to re-do some of your earlier cleaning as well.

At this point there are only two tasks remaining. First is to give your clippers and scissors a real cleaning (they usually come with little brushes for this) and possibly a dab of oil as well, before you put them away. And lastly, move all of your other stuff back to the sink. Congratulations, you’re done. Enjoy your new zero-dollar cut.

[honorhearted]

“I’m not wasting away or bleeding out, so there’s no reason I can’t do it myself.” 

Benjamin narrowed his eyes. "I know you're not one of my men, and therefore, I cannot order you into obeying my request, but that's a pretty weak excuse, don't you agree? I'm not wasting away nor bleeding out either, but if I suddenly had to play the pianoforte, I would not be able to do it myself."

Perhaps it was a poor analogy. Nina, after all, despite all her abundant aggravations, was quite capable of reconnaissance and handling her own. Still, he was unsettled by the thought of just letting her leave. There was so much needless loss of life in war. How could he step aside and let it potentially happen again? And most especially if he held the power to stop said death?

Nina gritted her teeth. “Say it was poisoned," she said. "Morristown is too far from here for us to reach before it is too late. And if that’s the case, you’ll be spared ever having to see me again.”

Benjamin balked at that, his lips parting as he struggled to form a coherent response. Finally, he offered, "At least you wouldn't die alone. My friend Hale...he died alone, and I very much regret that. No man nor woman deserves such a fate."

Nina grinned, though it came out forced within the moonlight. In regards to his never seeing her again, she prodded, “That should make you happy, right?”

Benjamin hesitated. Yes, by all accounts it should. Nina was an insufferable pain in the arse, and this was a prime example of how damnably frustrating she was. But rather than argue, as he very much wished to do, the hard slant to his eyes softened and he released her leg with a slow, hesitant slip of his fingers.

For a long while, neither of them moved. Then with a bitter huff, he moved the strap of leather into her palms, gently curling her hands around the reins. "Do what you must," he ordered. "I'll... I-I'll pray for you and your safe return."

No longer meeting her gaze, he stepped away from her horse and tightened his jaw, his shoulders sagging in defeat. By now, his residual arousal pushed only faintly at the front of his breeches, dwindling by the second along with his disgust, his frustration, his self-loathing.

"Godspeed," he mumbled. Then, turning on his boot, he stalked toward Artillery and slipped into his saddle, refusing to look back lest he change his mind.

--

The moment Benjamin returned, he shrugged out of his coat and holster, and made an eager rush for his washstand. The stink of travel laid heavily upon him, but he also knew he still held the stink of her -- of Nina's lips, her teeth and tongue, and the drying wetness that still coated his length.

Humiliated, Benjamin stripped off the remainder of his clothes, then poured water into his washbowl before setting to work. Each scrub of his hands over his skin wasn't enough; he couldn't feel absolved enough, clean enough, and after scratching and rubbing until his skin was sensitive and uncomfortably pink, he dried off and re-clothed himself in his uniform.

That was when he heard a familiar whistle coming toward his tent. A mere moment later, Caleb Brewster poked his head between the tent flaps with a grin, a satchel slung over his shoulder as he chuckled. "Oi, look at you!" he crowed. "All recovered from your deep-dive into the Delaware, eh?"

"You bastard," Benjamin said, though he was grinning. Despite his earlier disquiet, he moved forward and pulled the other man into a hug, lightly thudding his palm in between his friend's shoulder blades. "What took you so long? Or better yet, where the hell have you been?"

"Ohhh, a little o' this, a little o' that," Caleb said evasively. "If I tell ya, you'll probably go off on one o' your holier-than-thou rants."

"I feel one coming on regardless," Benjamin muttered. "Why did you choose Nina Zenik? She's been absolutely dreadful."

The whaler grinned. "She's a regular ol' hellcat, eh? I wouldn't mind a tumble, if y'get my meanin'."

Benjamin's face burned crimson, his hands tightening at his sides. Memories of her lips on his pulse and her grip briskly stroking between his legs made him shudder, and dragging a hand over his face, he irritably pointed out, "You left me with a perfect stranger. And for what? Nothing was accomplished."

"Sammy-boy's alive," Caleb pointed out, causing Benjamin to flinch.

"Yes," he softly agreed, his throat tightening. "That he is... I should go visit him. I only just returned from a mission of my own."

"I'll go with ya," Caleb offered.

"No, I...I should probably go myself," Benjamin said. "I'm unsure of his condition, so I don't want to crowd him out if he's not ready for that."

The whaler bobbed his head in agreement. "Aye," he affirmed, "I'll get back to business then. Speakin o' which, where's Nina now? I know she'll be chompin' at me arse until I get her some coin."

Benjamin winced, lifting his shoulders. "Gone," he simply said. "She wouldn't return with me, so...we parted ways." I'm unsure if she's even alive, he wished to add, but held his tongue.

Caleb hummed. "Well, that sounds about right," he muttered. "We lads can never tie down the good ones, eh?" With an amused sneer, he punched his friend on the shoulder.

Benjamin huffed, rubbing at his arm. "Right," he murmured. "Never."

She should have figured he’d protest to her performing reconnaissance with the pesky wound she was forced to begrudgingly bear on his behalf, but that wasn’t going to stop her from persisting, even as he implored her to reconsider. 

“I’m not wasting away or bleeding out, so there’s no reason I can’t do it myself.” 

As if to prove her wrong, Nina’s side throbbed in objection and she did her best to resist the urge to wince. 

Remaining unconvinced, Benjamin took hold of Tatyana’s reins to keep her from moving forward. The hand that fell upon her leg was much more surprising, and admittedly a little flustering, considering how tenderly he’d handled her body only minutes before. With her cheeks flushing red, she forced herself to look Benjamin in the eyes as though she weren’t moved in the slightest. 

"You can't go," he pressed. 

“Not unless you let go of the bloody reins.”

"If your wound truly does have poison, what then? There aren't any marked town lines for miles, Zenik. You may not be my responsibility, but I am not about to come chasing after your stubborn arse and peeling you off the ground. I don't have the funds to send you home for a proper burial."

Despite his logical point, Nina was determined to oppose him – needing to put space between them after what had just occurred in that cabin. If scouting wasn’t the brilliant excuse she’d managed to conjure, then it would have been something else – anything if it meant she could get far away from here as quickly as possible. Poison or no, she needed to run. 

“Say it was poisoned. Morristown is too far from here for us to reach before it is too late,” she pointed out coolly, “And if that’s the case, you’ll be spared ever having to see me again.”

Here, she feigned a grin, “That should make you happy, right?”

Moving to remove his hand from her leg, she briefly paused, ashamed that she was savoring the warmth of the contact, the soothing touch of the hand that had tugged at her waist, brushed her curls aside, and explored her folds. Her tone softened, betraying her in that moment.

[manappuramfinancesblog]

Myths that you might have heard about gold loan 

Gold loan is a phenomenal service that allows you to borrow the money you need for any special occasion. However, there are some myths about gold loans that you might have heard about. Read on to find out more about these myths and learn the truth. In the case of a gold loan, the borrower pledges gold ornaments as security for the loan. The interest of gold loans is usually lower than that of a personal loan or credit card. Gold loans can be used for a variety of purposes, including funding a business, paying for medical expenses, or other emergency requirements. 

There are many misconceptions about gold loans, so let's clear some of them. A gold loan does not mean that you are selling your gold. You are only using your gold as collateral for the loan and will get it back once you have repaid the loan in full. The interest of gold loans is usually lower than that of a personal loan or credit card because the lender is taking less risk. Gold loans can be used for a variety of purposes. If you are considering taking out a gold loan, do your research and make sure you understand the terms and conditions of the loan before signing anything. 

Interest rates will make me poor 

         When it comes to taking out a loan, many people believe that the interest of gold loans will make them poor. However, this is not always the case. Depending on the type of loan you opt for, the interest of gold loans can actually help you save money in the long run. For example, if you take out a gold loan with a low interest rate, you can use the money you save on interest to pay off your debt faster. In addition, if you invest the money you borrowed wisely, you can make a profit that more than covers the cost of your loan. 

I can’t get a gold loan because I don't have a collateral  

         You may have heard that you need collateral to get a loan, but that’s not always the case. Depending on the lender, you may be able to get a gold loan without putting up any collateral. Some lenders may require you to have a regular source of income or other assets, but it’s possible to get a loan without using your home or car as a collateral. 

Gold is risky and too volatile 

         Gold is often seen as a volatile investment, but this isn't necessarily the case. While the price of gold can fluctuate in the short-term, it has actually been one of the most stable investments over the long term. In fact, gold's volatility has been declining in recent years. From 2011 to 2016, gold's annual volatility averaged 14.3%. But from 2017 to 2020, it declined to just 10.4%. What's more, gold prices have tended to rise during periods of economic uncertainty and market volatility. So, if you're looking for a safe haven investment, gold could be a good option.  

I will lose money if the price of gold drops 

          One of the most common myths about gold loans is that borrowers will lose money if the price of gold drops. This is simply not true. Gold loans are collateralized loans, which means that the lender only has a claim on the gold itself, not on the cash value of the gold. Therefore, if the price of gold does drop, borrowers will not be required to repay any more than the amount they originally borrowed. But the gold loan rate per gram does not have the same procedure. The gold loan rate per gram is calculated by considering the entire weight of the jewelry supplied, the degree of purity, the average price of 22-carat gold over the last month, and the loan to value provided by the bank or the finance that you use. 0.75% of the total amount is considered as the processing fee for the gold loan. 

The loan application process is too cumbersome 

         Gold credit is a simple and dependable source of funding. It helps you get your money back in a reasonable length of time. To apply for a gold loan online, all you have to do is go to the Gold Loan website. It is a hassle-free process as there is no waiting time or any other processes. There is another process called doorstep gold loan, where we can avail all the gold loan services from the comfort of our home.  

Probabilities of jewelry loss or theft are high 

          If you have chosen us or a respectable NBFC or bank, this is quite improbable. Additionally, while they are kept in the vault, your gold ornaments are covered by insurance against theft and accidental damage. Gold loan is a type of loan that is given against the security of gold. The borrower can keep the gold with him and only has to pay the interest on the loan amount. There are many myths associated with gold loans, which often prevents people from availing this facility. Some of these myths are that gold loans are expensive, that they have a lot of hidden charges, and that they are difficult to repay. However, none of these claims are true. Gold loans are actually very affordable and come with flexible repayment options. So, if you're in need of quick cash, don't let these myths stop you from considering a gold loan. 

[joandfriedrich]

I don't think that Jo is demisexual. Her reaction to meeting Fritz is "Hnnngh; I liiiike. No wait. He's not remotely conventionally attractive. WTF me."

This ask is honestly bewildering to me. If you don’t think she is demisexual, then what do you think she is?

The way you worded it make it seems like Jo is only interested in conventionally attractive people, and I am not sure what makes you think that, especially since she is described, even by her own words, that she is not conventionally attractive either, and we know she isn’t vain in that way. If this was the case, how come she didn't see Laurie like that when he was described as being conventionally attractive? It’s again that weird idea that only conventionally attractive people can only be desirable, and if you find someone sexy that isn’t attractive then there is something wrong with you.

For those who do not know, demisexuality is when a person does not feel sexual desire for a person unless they have developed an emotional connection to the other person, and only after that connection is made will they feel a sexual desire for that person. Looks do not play a part in the demisexual’s feelings of desire, so the “He's not remotely conventionally attractive. WTF me” doesn’t work because she never desired anyone before him.

The first time she ever sees the professor, though it was not their official meeting, it was him doing something that immediately touched her and made her like him.

“As I went downstairs soon after, I saw something I liked. The flights are very long in this tall house, and as I stood waiting at the head of the third one for a little servant girl to lumber up, I saw a gentleman come along behind her, take the heavy hod of coal out of her hand, carry it all the way up, put it down at a door near by, and walk away, saying, with a kind nod and a foreign accent, ‘It goes better so. The little back is too young to haf such heaviness.’

Wasn’t it good of him? I like such things, for as Father says, trifles show character.”

After that, she begins to learn more about him before properly meeting him, and finds that he is a good man despite his unconventional looks. Just as it is said in the novel, she questioned why people liked him, not he’s unattractive and therefore can’t be liked.

“Why everybody liked him was what puzzled Jo, at first. He was neither rich nor great, young nor handsome, in no respect what is called fascinating, imposing, or brilliant, yet he was as attractive as a genial fire, and people seemed to gather about him as naturally as about a warm hearth. He was poor, yet always appeared to be giving something away; a stranger, yet everyone was his friend; no longer young, but as happy-hearted as a boy; plain and peculiar, yet his face was beautiful to many, and his oddities were freely forgiven for his sake. Jo often watched him, trying to discover the charm, and at last decided that it was benevolence which worked the miracle.”

“ ‘That’s it!” said Jo to herself, when she at length discovered that genuine good will toward one’s fellow men could beautify and dignify even a stout German teacher, who shoveled in his dinner, darned his own socks, and was burdened with the name of Bhaer.”

Does this sound like Jo is thinking to herself “WTF me?” No, it’s her understanding why everyone else likes him, and through what she observed of him. Also, here is the passage in which she writes to home about her first time of seeing him, and this is one of quite a few moments in which Jo is checking out the professor.

“I was thanking my stars that I’d learned to make nice buttonholes, when the parlor door opened and shut, and someone began to hum, Kennst Du Das Land, like a big bumblebee. It was dreadfully improper, I know, but I couldn’t resist the temptation, and lifting one end of the curtain before the glass door, I peeped in. Professor Bhaer was there, and while he arranged his books, I took a good look at him. A regular German—rather stout, with brown hair tumbled all over his head, a bushy beard, good nose, the kindest eyes I ever saw, and a splendid big voice that does one’s ears good, after our sharp or slipshod American gabble. His clothes were rusty, his hands were large, and he hadn’t a really handsome feature in his face, except his beautiful teeth, yet I liked him, for he had a fine head, his linen was very nice, and he looked like a gentleman, though two buttons were off his coat and there was a patch on one shoe.”

“...she coolly turned round and studied him—a proceeding which would have much surprised him, had he known it, for the worthy Professor was very humble in his own conceit.”

Jo was totally checking him out, and not at all thinking “Ugh, he’s not attractive, why do I like him?” She ends her letter with “On reading over my letter, it strikes me as rather Bhaery, but I am always interested in odd people...”

So, yes, I maintain Jo is demisexual, and she very clearly is into the professor, even if she doesn’t quite know it or even willing to admit it until much later. He may not be attractive in the same way that Laurie is, but that doesn’t stop him from being perhaps the most attractive male in the book, as his good heart and gentle ways enthrall not only the other characters, but to many readers everywhere.

[sunshinekindof]

Tough day

The last few weeks at work have been tough for Billy. New contracts, important clients, regular meetings. And, it seemed, every little thing demanded Billy's attention, so he was tense lately. You managed to see each other, but these were rare, short moments. You were not happy about this, but you understood that now Billy needs your support, although he will never admit it. He was not used to sharing his experiences, because he considered it a manifestation of weakness, but you had a different opinion about this.

Billy tried to spend every free minute with you, but now he rarely succeeded. When you were around, he felt calm, as if at home. At least that was how he imagined the house. The place where he is expected, loved and always supported. Billy knew that he could trust you, but he believed that he should protect you, even from the whole world, if necessary, because he cherished you. Therefore, he did not tell you about his problems, and you have not yet dared to insist.

Having managed to complete all the plans in the morning, you decided to visit Billy, at least for a couple of minutes. You went to his favorite cafe and bought him an apple pie. You knew that food like that wasn’t suitable for lunch, but Billy loves apple pie, and you wanted to please him. Billy rarely got mad at you unless you seriously screw up. And you hoped that your presence at his work would not give him problems today.

You walked into the Anvil building and went straight to Billy's office. Entering the room, you saw Jessica, Billy's secretary. You weren't intimately familiar, but she knew who you were.

“Hi Jess,” you said with a smile. She looked tired and the table was littered with papers. She looked up at you with tired eyes and smiled faintly.

- Hey! How do you? Sorry, but Billy is at the meeting ... - then you both heard your boyfriend's angry voice coming from the next room. From what you heard, it became clear that one of his subordinates made a serious mistake.

Then the door of the meeting room was thrown open, Billy came out and began to address Jessica in a loud voice. Billy looked angry.

- Jessica, where are papers on Mr. Stevens' ?!

You both jumped at the harsh sound. As soon as Billy's eyes rested on you, surprise flashed across his face.

- Y / N, what are you doing here? Something happened?

You cleared your throat and said:

- Sorry to distract you. I would like to talk to you. Will you take a few minutes for me?

Anxiety flashed in his gaze, and he examined you from head to toe before answering.

“Jessica, take the papers on Mr. Stevens's to the meeting room and tell them I'll be back soon. And tell them to re-read the documents before my arrival and understand what the hell they are talking about.

Jess nodded and quickly ran to her desk for the papers.

“Come to my office,” Billy told you, and you followed him.

As soon as you entered his office, Billy closed the door and turned sharply to you.

- So what happened? Are you okay? I didn’t receive any calls or messages from you today, and you didn’t say that you would come to me… - while he was talking, you hugged Billy tightly and pulled him to you. You wanted to take away all his stress, all his stress. Billy was like a taut string about to break.

- Do not be mad at me, please, I did not want to disturb you - you kissed him on the chin - I know that you are now having a difficult period at work and everyone needs your attention, but I was worried about you, so I just wanted to visit you and make sure you're okay.

- Are you worried about me? Billy said quietly, and he hugged you back.

You frowned and said:

“Of course I was worried about you. How could it be otherwise? I hope I didn't bother you too much, but you look like you need a break.

Billy pulled back slightly, looked into your eyes and said:

- How did I deserve you?

You smiled back and said:

- You probably did something very good in your past life.

Billy laughed softly and pressed his lips to yours. You pressed closer to him, and you involuntarily escaped a groan of pleasure.

“And that's not all…” you muttered, “I'm sure you haven't eaten anything, and as far as I know, sugar helps to think better, so…,” you took a pie out of your bag and handed it to him.

“Is that for me?” Billy took the cake from your hands and looked at you with disbelief, as if you decided to make fun of him.

- Of course, silly, who else? - you laughed, - besides, he is very sweet. You'll like it.

Billy looked at you and his eyes flashed with dangerous fire.

- I know another sweet thing that I want to try.

“Billy!” You exclaimed, but at the thought of his tongue between your legs your body was on fire.

He laughed and walked to his table

“Will you keep me company?” He asked, taking a pie out of the box and handing you one piece.

“Don't you need to go back to the meeting?” You asked, puzzled.

“I’m the boss,” Billy said with a smile, taking a bite of the pie, “besides, I need a break for a few minutes, otherwise I’ll kill them all. They need to be more responsible about their work or they will quickly lose it. I need professionals, not amateurs.

While Billy was eating, you got an idea. You didn’t think about it for a long time, fearing that you would get cold feet and change your mind, but you always wanted to do it.

- You're too tense, dear, - you said, went to the door and closed the door on the lock. Then you slowly approached Billy, who was sitting on the couch and looked at you attentively, - if you want, I can help you ..., - you said quietly and knelt down in front of him.

Billy's face was filled with excitement, but he seemed to be trying to control himself.

Then you ran your palm over his crotch and squeezed his cock through his pants.

Billy sighed sharply and said:

- Baby, you shouldn't ...

“I know,” you cut him off, “but this is what I have been thinking about for a long time and ... you don’t want me to ?,” you asked quietly and looked uncertainly into his eyes. You weren’t experienced in sex too much, but with Billy, you became more confident. Sometimes it just seemed to you that you weren't enough for him, that he could find someone better. But as soon as such thoughts appeared in your head, Billy immediately convinced you otherwise.

- God, of course, I want this, - he said confidently, took your face in his hands and leaned towards you, - I just want you to be sure that you want it.

You smiled and kissed him.

“I’m sure,” you smiled, “besides, you and I don’t want you to explode from the tension, right?” You winked at Billy and began to unbutton his pants.

- I can control myself very w ... - he began, but as soon as you pulled his cock out of your pants and ran your tongue over the head of the cock, his hips involuntarily twitched, and you laughed softly.

“You were saying ...,” you said, looking at Billy again. His eyes burned with fire, his lips are compressed, his breathing quickened.

You wanted to quickly relieve Billy's tension, so you drew your tongue along the entire length of the penis several times, then took it in your mouth and began to suck.

“My good girl,” Billy muttered and moaned softly.

Billy put his hand on your head, grabbing your hair and began to guide you. Billy's moans intensified and you felt his cock throbbing in your mouth.

“Baby,” Billy said in a low voice, “if you don’t want me to ...

You looked up at him, momentarily looked up from his cock and said

- Cum in my mouth, Billy. I want to taste everything of you

You again took his cock in your mouth and continued to suck, not taking your eyes off Billy's eyes.

In a moment, you felt Billy come with a groan in your mouth. His head is thrown back, his eyes are closed. You licked his cock clean, then zipped up his pants and sat on the couch next to Billy. Now he was relaxed and you were happy.

“Are you feeling better?” You asked him. Billy pulled you close and kissed you passionately on the lips.

- You can not even imagine.

- I am glad, - you giggled,- Well, I think I'll go… - you said. You wanted to get up and walk to the door so Billy could get back to his work, but he wouldn't let you and pulled you closer to him.

“Stay with me for a few more minutes,” he muttered into your hair.

You sat there for a while, after which Billy still had to return to his duties. But he promised you that he will come home early today and this time you will moan.

[theteej]

This Damn Body

I would be remiss if I spent time talking about 2022 and didn’t talk about my body.  Oof.  There’s so much to discuss about my body and my feelings about it—what I wore over it, how I felt about the way it took up space, how I navigated anxieties over safety by putting various vaccines in it, among other things—so let’s just dive in and think about the many different ways I think about this strange and compelling lump of light brown flesh and my many different feelings.

Fleshy Weight and Himbodom

The beginning of 2022 found me in a confusing and curious headspace.  I’d rejoined a gym at the end of May 2021, and began the process of working to change my body composition after fourteen months without structured gym exercise.  I’d lost muscle mass, I’d put on about forty pounds (18 kg), and was just in a prediabetic sugar range—something told with unsettling glee by a visiting doctor who’d taken my vitals in August 2021.  But regular gym time, constant exercise and a renewed schedule and eating had made some more noticeable changes.  By the beginning of the year I’d lost all of the pandemic weight and dropped out of the prediabetic range (I flinched visibly as the doctor praised me at ‘overcoming my body’—what a weird, fucked up and evangelical phrase).  As omicron dawned with its full fury and rage, I took a pause on the gym for six weeks, but kept up a regular fitness plan at home five days a week and supplemented it with my many, many long walks.  In hindsight, it makes sense as to why the walks became almost obsessive with me, reaching at one point 50 miles (80 kilometers) walked in a week, which was honestly too many.

If you’ve never been fat, I need to break this moment down for you.  Most of us, who grew up fat, who were seen as fat—especially in the 1990s which was a vicious and openly fatphobic time in media and broader culture—were trained to hate our bodies, to see them as short-term embarrassments, temporary setbacks on the road to being loved.  And most of us, through excruciating will power and terrible choices, lost the weight! We dropped down and only drank skim milk, eschewed pork for turkey, ate as many snackwell cakes that tasted like desperation and self-loathing with a thin chocolate coating as we could.  And inevitably, six or twelve or fifteen months later, the weight returned, and the sense of shame.  The sense of the treadmill of acceptability.  I’ve written much more at length about this phenomenon, which I tie to evangelical homophobia as well—the idea of being loved on credit, that you were only acceptable so long as you were changing who you were—so I won’t go into it here.  But I do want to talk about how this idea stayed with me, burned into my mind and heart, and therefore plagued me a bit in 2022 as I feared my ‘gains’ of the previous year would reverse, betraying me just like the failure Charlie Gordon experienced as his intellect wilted away in Flowers for Algernon (good God that book stays with me).  Sometimes I had to stop and think—what am I doing this for, this thing about my body?

Mercifully, my dear friend Robert, who spent 2022 gaining his official certification as a personal trainer and nutritionist, was not willing to let me endure in this space.  He reminded me that I loved being strong more than I loved being desirable, and he pushed me to think about what I actually wanted other than “not hatefully fat.”  His kindness was a balm for some of the more entrenched and shitty aspects of my fatphobia, and reminded me of my own goals.  And this moment helped me to think about my own physical and sexual feelings, too.  I had to think about my body in reference to a silly concept I’d discussed over previous years: Doctor Himbo.

For the uninitiated, a ‘himbo’ is a portmanteau of ‘he’ and ‘bimbo,’ the idea of a good-natured and attractive beefcake who offers not much by way of intellectual challenge.  He’s a stock character in queer and women-centered media, and the idea of being a hot, dumb but pleasant person also has its references in other media (for example, Kronk from the Emperor’s New Groove is a quintessential himbo.  Kristof in Frozen is definitely debatable as well).  The idea of the himbo is an attractive one—he’s a desirable but also intellectually daft character, a kind but deeply physical person.  He is, in many ways, the antithesis of me. 

I am anxious and deeply intellectual, I feel my body moves through so much irony and meta-description, that I can’t just be unencumbered.  I remember the times my (ironically very himbo-adjacent) father, a former high school and college football star, would yell at me to do laps in an empty parking lot and tell me he was embarrassed at my lack of athletic prowess, even when my asthma caused me to retch between cars in a Ralph’s parking lot, my tears and vomit leaking into oily puddles that reflected the disdain etched in his face.  But I’d also inherited his genes as well, and I put on muscle easily, readily; ever since I first cleared 300lbs (140kg) on the weight bench at fifteen, I’d known I could be strong. 

So this year, once I returned to the gym with omicron’s decrease in mid-February, I pushed towards strength with a vengeance.  Being strong didn’t mean emulating my father, but it did mean a particular competence in my body that wasn’t about loathing what it wasn’t.  I’d never be thin. But my God, I could be strong. My body was ready and waiting to thicken in muscle; back broadened again, my arms swelled, my chest ballooned.  I was most impressed by my thighs, which hadn’t ever been this big before, and I found myself increasingly racking up weight after weight. (As of the beginning of 2023, I’ve cleared 600lbs/275kg in leg presses, which is fucking WILD)  I felt my body changing, to match some of my more ridiculous ideas.

And there’s the tension.  I’m afraid and overly-intellectual.  But a himbo is not; the character is instead a cartoon concept of beefy masculinity, unencumbered by the difficulties of absurdity, contradictions, or daily thought.  In some ways, the himbo was an ideal character for me to put on, to feel confidence, and to push back my childhood anxiety and horror and trauma.  And so that’s where Dr. Himbo, the brilliant professor who is also a powerful and generally good-hearted beefcake, began to take shape in my mind.  These contradictions excite and fuel me.  They make me feel powerful and quite frankly, incredibly sexy.  They also are terrifying and weird and I’m well aware that they’re playing with concepts and archetypes.  I’m basically the queer Black Bruce Banner your boyfriend warned you about—because he’s the Hulk at the same time—and he loves postcolonialism and speedos.

But 2022 ended with me flexing angrily in front of a mirror, throwing another weight after another into the air with controlled jerks, sweat dripping past my eyes.  Dr. Himbo is here, he’s queer, and he’s going to laugh and flex past so many fault lines.

New Year, New Fabric

I found myself in 2022 also looking for new ways to cover my body.  After eighteen months of pandemic inspired caftans, I needed a switch, something different.  Two new things found themselves covering this frame—crowns and jumpsuits.

I’d gotten my first felt crown hat from my mother as a gift for getting tenure in 2021.  I found the way it emulated the sardonic and jaunty Jughead of Archie comic fame a draw, but I couldn’t anticipate just how much other people would like them.  People fucking love these hats, y’all.  They’ll stop me in bars, grocery stores, church parking lots, the dentist’s office.  They never seem to want them for themselves; they just like the idea that it’s something so familiar yet different perched on my head.  And to be honest, I love it too.  It feels great and distinctive.  And friends and family noticed.  And bought me more.

And that is how I came to own eight of these damn hats in different colors.  And I love it. It’s surreal and silly and wonderful.  I love the crown signifies a form of playfulness that undercuts and emphasizes the way that I’m absurd and serious in so many other aspects of my life.  It feels like the best kind of armor, bested only by….a jumpsuit.

If you’d told me I’d own five jumpsuits at the end of the year I’d have laughed at you.  I’d bought one for my Halloween costume in 2019—I was one of the tethered from Jordan Peele’s horrifying film Us—but the grownup professional romper wasn’t what I was imagining.  Until I saw a few friends in them and realized there could be something about this.  A jumpsuit for me is a direct response to the caftan of the last two years.  A caftan hides and embraces and rejects hard lines in favour of comfort and domestic lounging.  A jumpsuit stays comfortable, but embraces pantlegs. It becomes instead a full vestment that bonds to me and allows me to walk and move freely and snarkily.  And they feel so goddamn strong and wonderful.  I wore one to my first VAMP speaker’s night, and then one day teaching, and I was hooked.

The jumpsuit makes me feel like a strange superhero.  It’s a battle-ready costume that gives me range to move and attack and defend and retreat.  It also feels comfortable as fuck and is basically socially acceptable pajamas.  I love it, and I feel powerful as hell in it.

And God help me when I combine the two.  Although the one student who said this combination of pink hat and jumpsuit made me look like “Princess Peach’s mechanic” was brilliant and hateful and correct.

 Feeling Safe in this Body

Of course, my muscles and my fabrics couldn’t protect me from the many, many diseases still lurking, a fact I learned when I fell ill with covid just after Easter 2022.  I honestly felt just a slight sniffle, and very infrequent cough.  It all could’ve been chalked up to pollen count, except for the chills I had one night after a requisite 5 mi (8km) walk.  Two home tests and a PCR later---yup.  I had it.  I felt afraid and ashamed and confused and angry.  Like I’d ruined some sort of perfection that I was supposed to maintain.

Infuriatingly, I didn’t actually get sicker.  I got better immediately, and found myself confined to my house with virtually no symptoms after day two, although I wouldn’t test negative for ten full days.  I tried to remind myself that it was not a moral failing to fall ill, but I owed it to others to protect them, and I succeeded for the most part.  Remote teaching was anxiety-enducing, but it worked all right.  I learned to sit in my house in so many different caftans (2021 redux!), and be kind to my body, which was struggling to keep me safe, thanks to the vaccines I’d received.

After my recovery, I felt briefly relaxed and then very afraid I’d contract it again.  My flights to Fiji and New Zealand were scary—especially after a brief cold, but I was all right.  I was sure to get my bivalent booster and feel as safe as I could, and be as responsible as possible.  But I had no idea how emotionally unprepared I was for the other virus.

Monkeypox swept across the globe at the end of May, and I was horrified and terrified as I watched the numbers climb precipitously in the summer of 2022.  I immediately stopped sexual and most physical contact, and then cried as I felt like I was returning to my sense of isolation and fear again, even while others weren’t.  And finally, when the government offered vaccines, or hope—they were achingly, infuriatingly slow.  I couldn’t get one for nearly all of August, and I was so scared, and so angry that another virus would hit me, hurt me, hurt others.  I felt singled out as a queer, and even more alone.

I sat in those clinics twice this fall, getting stuck with needles that left permanent marks in my arms like the faint bruises my drunken father would give me after he got home on a school night.  But the weird pain and violence kept me safe, unlike him.  I felt that giving my body these shots and protections would keep this body safe, would make these things more endurable.

This year took my body to a series of confusing and strange places.  But I’m still incredibly grateful that I survived it, festooned my body, and celebrated its strength.  Just ask Dr. Himbo, your favourite intellectual beefcake.

[kavat]

The Golden Family “Our Freja is a miracle”

From newspaper Barometern February 1st 2021

Cornelia Dahlgren and Martyn Lester, London, had a daughter named Freja on December 1st. Weight 3410 g, length 50 cm. Cornelia grew up on Öland.

Musician, actor and artist.

The Öland "Idol" participant has finally got her dream role, she has become a mother.

- Our Freja is a miracle, says Cornelia Dahlgren.

LONDON / ÖLAND 

How is Freja?

- She is fine. The labor started a little too early, she was scheduled for December 11 but the labour started on November 30. At the hospital, it turned out that she was not positioned quite right. After a day and a half in hospital, we had to make a decision about a caesarean section. When she came out she was very quiet but now we know that she has fully developed lung capacity, haha!

Describe her, how is she as a person?

- Very stubborn and very happy. She is direct and straightforward. Though probably all babies are. But it's never hard to understand what she wants. She has started to smile now and we can see what she's in the mood for.

Freja is your first child, what is it like to become a parent?

- Wonderful. It has been such a long journey with miscarriages and anxiety and then a pandemic on top. Our Freja is a miracle.

That sounds tough, do you want to tell me?

- Yes, I have realized that it is important to talk about miscarriage. For our part, there were several factors that came into play. After several miscarriages and examinations, we received help with IVF. At the end of 2019, the treatment started with injections and medicines, it was a struggle. At the beginning of last year, the actual in vitro fertilization was performed. But it didn’t work out. We had a new time booked when covid struck. It was cancelled and we were not allowed to make any more attempts. It was hard and we were very, very sad.

Hm. But now you have Freja, how did that happen?

- We tried in a natural way and Freja came into being. She really is our miracle baby, in just about every way. But there was a lot of anxiety during the pregnancy. Martyn was only allowed to attend one ultrasound, on the other occasions he had to wait outside on the sidewalk due to covid. But we have received incredibly good support from doctors and midwives, the National Health Service, NHS, has been there for us and we are very grateful.

Did you know it was going to be a girl?

- Yes, but we decided to keep it private. Early in the pregnancy, we did a harmony test, a blood test where you look for the baby's DNA in the mother's blood to see if everything looked good. It did and we were told at the same time that it was a girl.

Was it easy to come up with the name?

- We actually had time to talk about boy names before we got to know the gender and the name that was at the top of the top list was Leif. My dad's name is Leif and we were into Nordic mythology and history and also thought of Leif Eriksson. We came to Freja when Martyn said that he liked the name Gaia, the goddess of the earth and fertility in Greek mythology. We have no biological or historical roots in that mythology, but the idea was nice and then I thought of Freja of Nordic mythology. Freja represents love and fertility for us and when she was born the name was so right.

Does she have any more names?

- Yes, she has a lot of names, haha! Her name is Freja Dorothy Gunnel Dahlgren Lester. Dorothy is after Martyn's grandmother who he has always described as a fantastic person, and Gunnel is after my grandmother. Neither Dorothy nor Gunnel are alive anymore, but it felt natural to choose their name. The funny thing is that Freja has the same hair color as my grandmother and me.

What about baptism?

- The idea is, depending on how everything develops with the pandemic, that we will be able to have baptism on Öland in July. I have been on Öland every summer since I was four years old and when I was ten we moved there, I see Öland as my home.

Is Freja a British citizen?

- We are applying for a British passport and later we will apply for a Swedish passport. We might try to see if she can have dual citizenship later on. The plan is also for her to become bilingual so that she can speak to all Swedish and English relatives and therefore I only speak Swedish with her.

If you search for Cornelia Dahlgren in Barometern-OT's archive, you get lots of hits, you have been in the band Popshop and ”Idol” in 2004, you have been on the stage of Dramaten and everything. How did you end up in London?

- I was at Red Bull Music Academy's bootcamp in Barcelona in 2008 and got to know some British musicians who invited me to London. I thought I would try to live there for a year and well, I met Martyn through the music, we started talking and got to know each other. Although it took me a while to get that he was interested in that way, haha!

How does it work with parental leave in the UK?

- Not so great. You have two months with full pay, then it drops significantly. And if you look further ahead, when it's time for childcare, well then it's tempting to move back to Sweden. But Martyn is self-employed and would have a hard time moving. In London, it is difficult to get a preschool place, the prices are so high, it is cheaper with daycare. Then you can have a nanny but it is not for people with regular incomes.

What do you do?

- I started as an event manager in my partner's company, IRL Digital Ltd, and am now a brand manager and work with marketing, entertainment and merchandise that is not just fast fashion.

What do you miss from Sweden?

- It’s been  over ten years since I lived in Sweden but I miss the cleanliness, nature and the right of public access. I also miss the good tap water. And my family of course, my sister and her family in Stockholm and my mother and her husband, and my father and his wife who all live on Öland.

What are you looking forward to?

- Oh, that's so much! I look forward to playing and singing with Freja, that she will share Martyn's interest in skateboarding. But, and this sounds so cheesy, that little piece that was missing in my life has finally fallen into place. Becoming a parent means not prioritizing yourself first. I look forward to meeting myself as Freja's mother. Of course I want to see Freja grow up and get to know her, but I have not allowed or dared to think of myself as a mother and I look forward to meeting myself.

Anna Mi Matzén

[shoutogepi]

His Reaction When His S/O Reveals They Have a Breeding Kink

with Hawks & Todoroki Shouto

genre : [ ✘ (NSFW!) ]  

hc prompt : how would he react when you reveal you have a breeding kink?

author’s note : so this is uhhhhhhh nasty but y’all asked for it (not that i hated writing it or anything heheheeee)

Hawks

honestly you’ve been waiting for a long time to tell him about your dirty little secret. it feels shameful to have such a weird kink, something that gets you dripping wet when you think about it. and you certainly have thought about it, many a time before when he’s thrusting into you. you’ll close your eyes, imagining him whispering those nasty words to you, instantly making you clench onto him— and he has absolutely no clue that your mind is racing with such sin.

it’s taken, well, an embarrassing amount of time for you to finally sack up and just tell him, and now that you’re here underneath him, your heart is racing in your chest. before he’d gotten home you’d been so confident that today is the day you’ll tell him, but now that he’s sucking his mark onto your throat, his rough and nimble fingers slipping underneath the hem of your panties to tug them down your thighs, your voice is silent.

when you finally manage to squeak out his name, hawks stops his assault on your neck and leans back to look at you. the tone of your voice immediately alerts him that you’re uncomfortable, and it startles him into moving his hands from your thighs to rest gently on your hips, those gold eyes peering into yours. “what’s wrong, feather?” he asks, the usual playful tone absent as his thumbs stroke across your skin. “not in the mood?”

you shake your head and look away, heat rising to your cheeks as the moment of truth approaches much sooner than you’re ready for. “i am, i just… i wanna tell you something,” you say, eyes trailing back to lock with his. “and if you don’t, i mean— it’s kind of, uh, weird— so if you’re not comfortable with it, please just forget i ever said anything in the first place, and we’ll just continue like normal, okay?”

hawks is looking at you thoughtfully, and he takes you by surprise when he presses a chaste kiss to your warm cheek.

“well, ‘yanno you’re dating a birdman, so i'm used to weird... but alright, go ahead, dove.” this man never fails to make you smile, even if this time it’s less than half-hearted, the blood rushing in your ears.

after a very uncomfortable pause, you finally say it.

“i kind of have an, um… breeding kink.”

you’re not looking at him but hawks’ eyes are the size of dinner plates. he’s absolutely floored that his sweet little bird indulges in such nasty thoughts— that something so intimate and rather, well, primal could possibly make you squirm.

you take his shocked silence as a rejection, just wanting for this embarrassing confession to be done with, and forgotten. your hands cover your face in mortification, hiding your skin so you can’t feel his judgement “oh god, we can just— please just forget I even—“

his hands grab your wrists, secure enough to pull them away from your face, but gentle enough not to shake your mess of emotions further. a sentiment unlike any you’ve seen before fills his half-lidded eyes, which hold your gaze almost magnetically.

“don’t be so mean, birdie. you’re gonna take it back before we even get to try it out?”

your flushed back hits the cool sheets as he pushes you down, crawling up your body so he hovers above you. it’s your turn to look at him with wide eyes, and that cocky grin is on his lips once more.

“want me to put a baby in you, dove? god, that’s fuckin’ sexy,” he groans, hand dancing along your jaw and dipping his thumb between your lips for you to suck on. his knee slips between your legs, pressing against your pussy so he can feel you twitch in anticipation.

red feathers shiver behind him, the only visible sign you can see that conveys how truly excited he is by the premise of breeding you. well, that and the raging erection he presses into your naked hip, his thin pair of briefs doing their best to hold back his throbbing cock.

“gonna fill you so good, feather, you’re gonna look so good all round with my kid— fuck,” he groans, ripping off his underwear and lining up his swollen tip with your slit. he’s achingly hard and a trail of precum dribbles down his length, another sign of how into this he must be.

he moans as he slips into you, and your back arches as his hips bump yours, his cock nestling all the way inside your ready core. he starts off slow and passionate, taking your leg and slinging it over his shoulder to reach even deeper.

he will not stop his impassioned assault until you’re begging for more— for him to fuck you harder, rougher, faster. and hawks is definitely a tease in bed, so he’s gonna be pretty playful, even while he’s humoring your kink.

“yeah, dove? you want me to fuck you faster? need ‘ta feel these balls fulla my kids slap your pretty pussy?”

“take it, feather— take this cock and show me how bad you wanna carry my kids. fuck yeah, louder— wanna hear you sing for me.”

“god, you’re fuckin’ soaked. y’like hearing me talk about knockin’ you up? y’like it when i tell you i’m gonna make you my mama bird?”

hawks wants to fuck you as deep as he can, so when he cums his seed covers your womb as much as possible. he knows you love it, and it drives him crazy when your pussy clenches onto him as he’s climaxing— like you’re desperate to milk him dry and take every drop of his load, so your body can become swollen with his kids. knowing that only makes him orgasm harder, and maybe he even shoots out a few extra ropes of release because of it.

he will certainly incorporate this new kinky knowledge into your regular sexual routine, and you can safely bet that he will also use it to his very satiating advantage when he’s dealing with his ruts.

GOD when he’s in a rut, this birdman will take you to the next level. his hormones are already screaming at him to mark and claim and fill you, and that extra awareness that you want the same thing just feeds it even more. pray for your pussy during these times. and thank god he has the salary he does, because you’re gonna have to keep buying new sheets, again and again.

hawks will never make you feel judged for having such a kink, because he himself embraces it wholeheartedly. it makes his cock so hard knowing that the premise of him putting a kid in you makes you that wet. he will indulge you to the absolute fullest, and when he’s finished breeding you each session, you’re gonna be worshipped like the absolute queen he regards you as.

Shouto

so if you’re dating shouto be prepared for your friends to assume you like vanilla sex. it’s not that they don’t think he’s not physically capable of fucking you into next year (he’s a pro pero, like, have you seen his muscles?), it’s that shouto has always seemed more of a reserved, analytical kinda guy to most. but as his s/o, you’re exposed to the real shouto, the sassy, suave, and kinky motherfucker.

even if he is kinky, you’re still a bit hesitant to let him know about your breeding kink. the kink is, after all, not the most conventional, and it’s a bit of a… raw and crude kink, compared to others. and of course, you’ve never really revealed this part of yourself to any of your other lovers, because you hadn’t realized you even had the kink in the first place until you met shouto himself.

but the thing is, shouto is such a kind and understanding boyfriend, that you don’t feel too intimidated to keep the kink to yourself for long. actually, it kind of just slips out one night when he’s already balls-deep inside of you, taking you from behind as you’re bent over the kitchen sink.

his fingers are hooked in your hair, bending your spine to his will with his other hand firmly planted on your waist to keep you in place. he’s fucking you so roughly that your submissive nature is oozing out of every pore, your face probably twisted into the most lewd ahegao expression possible.

it’s clear that the reservations of your natural state are tossed out the window in front of you, and it’s not like shouto is holding anything back either with the way his hips are slapping into yours, groans tumbling from his lips.

at some point he’s shifting your leg up onto the ledge of the counter so he can drill his cock into that familiar sweet spot of yours, which coincidentally is located deep inside of you, close to your cervix and therefore your womb. the stars that dance along your vision cloud your brain, and you start babbling numbly as he finds the exact spot with precision.

“p-put a baby in me,” you whimper, pussy quivering to hug his intruding length, your legs nearly shaking at the intense stimulation.

shouto’s hips halt immediately as he sucks in a sharp breath, heterochromatic gaze connecting with yours in the window reflection. for a second he’s wondering if you mean you want to start a family with him, but after examining the carnal lust simmering in your eyes, he realizes what you’re truly asking of him.

and it turns him the fuck on.

“you wanna have my baby, hmm?” he growls and thrusts into you particularly hard, slamming into that sensitive spot and drawing a broken moan out of your breath-starved lungs. the hand on your waist travels to splay against your abdomen, long fingers pressing into your soft skin. “want me to fill you up,” thrust, “flood this pretty pussy with my seed,” thrust, “and make this perfect body swell with my child?”

you’re crying out as he starts pistoning into you, this time much harder and faster than before. he’s jabbing your g-spot with the head of his cock, the veins that decorate his thick length rubbing deliciously against your velvet walls. you can’t even form words, the premise of him knocking you up dominating your brain as you beg for more, for him to give you a baby.

your pleading is really getting him there, his cock aching to just stuff your pussy with his load already, but shouto wants something more. in no time he’s flipping you around, pushing your legs up so your calves rest against his broad shoulders. his hands gripping your waist, thumbs rubbing over your stomach as he eyes your flesh, he frantically pumps himself as deep as he can inside your heat. you can’t help but clench at the look on his face, his eyes fixed on your stomach as if he’s imagining what you’ll look like, belly round with his baby.

and oh my god, his dirty talk is absolutely sinful. he’s really finding enjoyment in exploring this new kink with you. 

“you’re gonna look so gorgeous carrying my baby, angel.”

“i promise i’m gonna give you load after load, ‘til you’re round and full and— shit, you really like that, huh?”

“you’re gonna be a good girl for me, right y/n? be a good girl and say ‘thank you sir’ when i give you this cum— fuck, come on, baby— say it.”

when you both finish (it doesn’t take very long after that), you kinda just laugh together, and even though you’re still a little embarrassed that you were the one to bring it up, shouto makes you feel safe and accepted, because he seems just as into it as you.

it’s safe to say, that isn’t the last time you two explore your breeding kink. after the pair of you have become more comfortable with the kink, shouto finds himself getting perhaps even more into it than you.

he’ll research what positions he can go the deepest in, and will not be afraid to bend you into them because he knows you love it when his cum seeps into you as deep as possible.

he buys you a plug to keep his cum inside of you— “you thought i was gonna stop after just one round? don’t make me laugh, baby, we’ve got another two gos at least until you’re full enough for me to use the plug.”

his mischievous ass will make you wear it out in public, dragging you out on a date or to grab lunch with his siblings. and you have to pretend that everything’s fine, that your pussy isn’t packed to the brim with his seed while you make small talk with his clueless sister.

when fuyumi asks if you enjoyed the meal, he’s quick to answer for you, his eyes meeting yours and glittering with something darker. “oh, y/n’s absolutely stuffed. isn’t that right, angel?”

you’re sure as hell getting dessert when you return home too.

➥ masterlist

➥ prompt party masterlist

[cavity-core]

Satisfying Salad

Chapter Four

I post a lot of different stuff that is totally consumable for minors, but this space is not intended for minors, so if you fall in that category, please navigate it responsibly and respectfully... on that note.. keep scrolling to the next post kids. ^ ^

Despite the tag, this is not Kaebedo, I’m shipping Kaeya with the Fellflower because I’m an absolute psychopath... I call it crack but it’s my otp idk what’s wrong with me, cryo sugoi.

It is still updating but you can read the full fic here.

It’s the big explicit spicy. Then we’ll go back to having some plot with our spice. 

Until this moment, the closest Subject Three had ever come to a sexual encounter was probably with a pollen seeking cryo cicin. Maybe it was something about the way he had changed his body, maybe it was the effects of the drink or maybe it was the dragon blood from his master, but he’d never experienced a sensation like this. The way Kaeya’s palm pressing over him made his entire body hot with the simultaneous need to tense up and grab for Kaeya’s hand while his limbs also felt weak and he wanted nothing more than for him to continue.

Why hadn’t he felt this before? Did other humans know how to do this? Did his master? He was eager, too much so, to give Kaeya what he wanted in exchange for more of whatever this was. He knew he shouldn’t, that he was disobeying his master, but what did it matter? Kaeya already knew he wasn’t the Chief Alchemist he’d been imitating, he was more likely to have to fight his way out of Mondstat if he’d insisted on keeping quiet, and what state was he in to do that?

Subject Three had been yearning to get out of these restrictive clothes since the moment his master had approved the accuracy of his human form and stuffed him into them, but he’d still not felt nearly as desperate to divest himself of them as he did now. Kaeya was much more adept at removing the over complicated articles than he was, but he continued trying to pull himself free of them however he could, unaware his efforts were likely just getting in the way.

After what felt like an excruciatingly long time, he was finally free of all non-organic pieces of his disguise —aside from the tie in his hair, but of all the things he’d had to wear, that one was the least of his concerns.— Kaeya had sat him up to remove the garments from his upper body, but he was on his back again by the time his excessively restricting bottoms were all off. His sigh of relief was cut short on a sharp gasp when Kaeya wrapped his hand firmly around what was supposed to be some kind of human reproductive organ but had begun taking on some characteristics of his regular form.

The feeling of Kaeya’s leather glove was rough as he began moving it, slowly pumping the length with purposeful movement while Subject Three squirmed below him, his hands fisted white knuckled at his sides in the duvet. The longer Kaeya’s hand was on him the more the heat in his stomach pooled, a sweet, nectar-like fluid already gathering at his tip and trickling down the sides. “More… Kaeya… more,” he pleaded breathily, eyes squeezed shut against the sensation that his hips rose desperately to meet.

“Tsk, look at you,” Kaeya chided. “I’ve hardly done a thing and you’re already like this.” He slid his hand up, rubbing his bare thumb gingerly over the leaking head as though hesitant to touch the fluid. It was quite harmless to him though, nectar was produced to attract and reward potential pollinators so it made sense his body might go out of its way to produce some now.

All he could respond to Kaeya’s teasing with was an embarrassingly needy whimper, terrified more than anything that he’d just stop when the hand released him. He opened his eyes in time to see Kaeya tentatively lick the nectar from his hand, as though making sure it was safe… which was a valid assumption in all fairness, but since his species did not eat bugs and therefore had no reason to kill them, the nectar was perfectly alright for general consumption… although it might cause problems for anyone with particularly bad seasonal allergies.

Kaeya huffed a short laugh. “You really are a plant,” he muttered, readjusting himself to once again grasp the whopper’s shaft and lean his face down to lick the tip.

“A-ah!” His tongue felt very different from the rough leather of his hand. It was soft, warm and wet, and the feeling of it as Kaeya dragged it up the side from base to tip was causing a strange pressure to build in him.

Kaeya still had one hand holding him steady while he used his tongue but his other was busy holding Subject Three down by the thighs, keeping him still as he desperately tried to squirm closer to the stimulating feeling. His gasps and moans were getting louder as the pressure in his lower abdomen grew more and more unbearably tight.

As Kaeya’s lips finally closed fully over the ribbed tip, the sensation of his mouth and tongue surrounding it as he lightly sucked, Subject Three felt it peak as the pressure released all at once. He wasn’t even aware his body could produce that much nectar in such a short period of time, but the sensation was euphoric, eliciting a lewd cry and even a surprised noise from Kaeya as he drew back letting much of the ejaculation end up on the whopper rather than in his mouth. He’d hardly taken him yet in after all.

Kaeya sat up fully now, though still lightly stroking him through his trembling orgasm. “Hm.. well that didn’t take much at all,~” Kaeya commented, his eye narrowed smugly as he looked down at Subject Three. There was a pretty obvious tent in the knight’s pants as well but he shifted away now, removing his hand as well. “I should be getting you back to the side of Mondstat’s walls that you belong on.”

Was that… it? It was over? But… he.. he didn’t want that. He wanted more of Kaeya, despite the exhaustion in his body, he wanted this all the time… how was he supposed to go back to his life without it??

Even though his limbs felt like he had slime for bones, Subject Three pushed himself upright again, gripping Kaeya’s arm firmly and forcing himself into the man’s lap before he could attempt to get up and move away.

“Hey—“ Kaeya objected as the whopper braced his hands against his shoulders, pressing back against the lump in Kaeya’s pants as he straddled him.

“More,” he demanded, swaying a little still. There was a distinct pinch of over sensitivity that wasn’t there before that made him flinch and whimper as he rutted against the still clothed knight but he was still hard and it still felt that same way. Kaeya still felt and smelled so good to him, as he pushed himself flush against the other, pressing his face into Kaeya’s neck and the fur on his shoulder in his efforts to get closer still.

~*~*~*~

The whopper had finished surprisingly quickly.. it probably shouldn’t have been that surprising considering its very obvious lack of experience, but Kaeya was still caught off guard when it came so suddenly. The nectar it had been producing from what was meant to be its dick was very sweet and undiluted when he’d tasted it on his fingers, but the fluid that came out during its climax was actually much waterier.

That was a relief to Kaeya who wasn’t sure what he’d have done with a mouthful of something that sickly sweet. Most of the diluted sugar water tasting substance had ended up on the whopper rather than in his mouth though and he’d continued to stroke it as it came shivering down from its orgasm. He wanted to get this thing dealt with as soon as he could though, getting this technically dangerous monster outside of the city and… maybe some time alone for himself after all that.

When he announced that he’d be taking the whopper back to the wild though, he wasn’t expecting it to suddenly rise up and grapple itself into his lap, preventing him from getting up. The possibility that it had been a bad idea to indulge it to begin with did cross his mind, but was getting drowned out by the feeling of its hot, damp breaths on his neck and the way it was rubbing against his swelling hardon as it desperately tried to provide some friction to its dick against Kaeya. That smell was still coming off of it too, sweet and floral, and intoxicatingly heavy.

Kaeya’s hands came up reflexively to the whopper’s hips as it pressed its ass firmly back against his dick again, holding it against him for a moment before remembering himself. He wasn’t going to actually fuck a WhopperFlower… was he?

His breaths were a little heavier as he glanced down to what he could see of the whopper’s head still buried into the crook of his neck, panting against him or lightly lapping at his skin while his dick twitched traitorously in his pants. Whether it looked like Albedo or not, it felt good and he was increasingly aware that the scent of its pheromones was definitely getting to him.

All he earned himself was a growl when he tried to lift the whopper off of him, unable to do much in the way of removing his own clothes when their hips were welded together like this. With his dick already leaking a small wet mark on his pants… he didn’t exactly want to soil them further, he wasn’t about to get off while fully clothed.

“Now, now, there’s no need to get snippy,” he scolded, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “You want me to do it again, don’t you ?”

The whopper slowly lifted its head from Kaeya’s shoulder, pink eyes fixing him with a desperate gaze as it continued shifting on his lap. It gave a small nod, lips still parted and breaths short.

“Right, so you’ll listen to me, won’t you?” He asked, raising a hand to card through its imitated blonde locks.

The whopper nodded again, looking somehow more flustered when Kaeya leaned in. “Good boy,” he murmured against its jaw, despite having no idea if it was technically a boy or not… then again, as a whopper, he assumed it probably didn’t care either. It was already hard and twitching again after only that.

With a grunt, Kaeya braced his hands under the whopper’s ass and hoisted himself to his feet, lifting the other with him. “Be good and wait while I take off some of these layers, understood ?~” Kaeya asked, laying it back down on the bed.

It didn’t exactly look happy with this compromise, but it stayed obediently put with its arms resting loosely near its head and its dick still half hard in the open air. Kaeya could feel its gaze locked on him while he removed his cape and corset, and finally his boots and pants.

The whopper’s gaze followed him just as closely as he removed his gloves and took a container of slime concentrate —processed and sterilised for this purpose— from his night stand before returning to the bed. “Lift your legs,” he instructed, pressing one leg up by the back of the knee for its reference. It obediently followed with the other, exposing what Kaeya was relieved to find was a hole. Honestly, he had no idea what he should’ve been expecting based on a WhopperFlower’s understanding of human anatomy.

Scooping some of the slime out on two fingers, he settled himself on the bed kneeling before the whopper. “I suppose the cold won’t bother you,” he commented, tracing a slick finger around the entrance before slowly sinking it in, earning him a soft gasp in return.

It took the first digit with very little resistance and was handling the second one quite well despite the pants and whimpers it had already been reduced to once again. Was it just sensitive or did it have notably different anatomy than a human? It was responding well to the in and out motion of his fingers but seemed rather indifferent regarding which direction he moved them, implying that its pleasure was being derived from the friction alone. Still, it needed a little more stretching before it could smoothly accommodate Kaeya.

His biggest concern now was how loud the thing would get, he didn’t need any of his neighbours gossiping… especially after he’d been allegedly seen with Albedo. Assuming the alchemist would indeed be back… that would be awkward. It might get louder if he used his fingers alone to gag it, and frankly he wasn’t sure if he’d get bit if he tried, so it seemed like a smarter idea to just use his mouth.

With his other arm above the whopper’s head to prop himself up, he leaned back into its mouth. “Hush, you’ll wake the neighbours,” he muttered against the others' parted lips before pressing his own against them, slipping his tongue in.

The whopper made a soft noise of surprise against him, frozen at first while it took in Kaeya’s motions but quick to begin reciprocating as it copied him. At least it could learn from the best— not… that it should really be using this knowledge going forward as a WhopperFlower. Did they even have mouths?

By the time he’d scissored enough to fit a third finger, that same sweet nectar was already dribbling out onto the whopper's stomach, thighs twitching now and then while it tried to keep them in place for Kaeya. Its whimpers and moans were at least much quieter now being drowned out by Kaeya’s own mouth but it was about ready to finally take his dick.

“Don’t get too excited.. we haven’t started yet,” he purred, pulling away though the whopper reached after him still panting with a confused expression. “Keep your legs up,” he prompted, guiding its hands under its knees to hold them in place near its chest.

He scooped another generous glob of slime and applied it to his own dick before guiding himself to the whopper’s entrance and pressing in. Kaeya’s breath hitched as he entered, the muscles twitching and squeezing him as its body attempted to adjust to the intrusion of his now half sheathed length. “Ah.. your body is already pulling me in,” he sighed smugly, slowly drawing back to thrust in again deeper.

The whopper’s body temperature was actually quite low, but Kaeya’s own wasn’t exactly high either. The overall ease with which he’d stretched it hadn’t prepared him at all for how incredibly tight it still was, as though conforming to his size. He cursed under his breath as he pushed in again.

“Go.. fast again…” the whopper managed to gasp, it’s speech still as slurred as it was in Angel’s Share. Who was he to deny that request though?

Pausing in his motions, Kaeya sat up fully, gripping the whopper by its hips and lifting them off the mattress as he too rose up on his knees, finding an angle with better mobility. “Remember the neighbours now,” he teased, drawing back to push in with more force this time. Despite his light heartedly remark, he’d actually been quite serious, but the lewd moan from the whopper that followed was hardly subtle.

As he continued to pick up his pace, it wasn’t long before the whopper’s hands had abandoned their posts to grip Kaeya’s forearms, its legs hooked over his back now instead and trying to encourage his pace.

“K-Kaeya—“ he was only a few forceful thrusts in when the whopper came again, though notably less this time. Still, Kaeya was already this far in and he hadn’t finished yet so his pace continued unbroken, only increasing in both speed and force.

~*~*~*~

After Kaeya implied he’d be removing him from the city, Subject Three was a lot more reluctant to lay back and let him do as he pleased. The knight hadn’t exactly lied to him thus far though, so he felt at least somewhat inclined to listen when he reassured him. His breath was already getting short as another wave of heat spread through him when Kaeya leaned into his jaw to praise him.

Kaeya really did just as he said he would, taking off some layers before joining him on the bed again. Now that Subject Three could see Kaeya’s dick up close… he was aware that his didn’t exactly match up now. It hardly mattered by this point though, since Kaeya didn’t seem to mind and he was happy with whatever anatomy he had presently that was making everything Kaeya did feel so good.

From his position on his back with his legs bent up, it was hard to see what Kaeya was doing with the container he’d brought over, but it was mere moments before he’d scooped up the slimey contents and pressed a finger inside the whopper’s ass. Not a body part he normally had, just another necessity of imitating a perfect human form… although whatever he was at this point certainly wasn’t that.

He wasn't sure what a human was supposed to feel when they were touched there, but his body reacted easily to the in and out motion of Kaeya’s finger which soon became two fingers. The extra resistance created more friction, already making Subject Three more vocal and creating a bigger mess of nectar on his stomach as his dick continued to twitch and leak from Kaeya’s motions.

Although Kaeya hushed him, the whopper barely had a chance to try and stifle himself before Kaeya did it for him, pressing their mouths together. Another new sensation that made him still, taking in the way the knight’s lips moved against his, and how his tongue coaxed Subject Three’s into reciprocating. He liked this feeling as well, maybe just because it was Kaeya and every one of his touches was like electricity, it felt better still as he finally began moving to return the motion.

The nectar was practically pooling on the whopper’s stomach by the time Kaeya had worked him through his third digit. He made a disappointed noise reaching after him when Kaeya pulled away from his mouth and slipped his fingers out, muscles clenching on nothing. Still, he obediently held his hands where Kaeya had placed them under his knees, ready to follow whatever instructions he gave in order to feel good again.

With the same slimey substance, Kaeya slicked his own dick this time and pressed it into the hole instead. Its girth was far more impressive than a few fingers, making Subject Three gasp as his body tensed against the intrusion, trying to adjust around it. He’d hardly gotten used to the foreign shape before Kaeya started moving again, but much slower this time as he built his pace back up, encouraged by the whopper’s impatient demands.

The sensation of Kaeya sliding in and out of him was already incredible, it was already too good, too much for him. The heat pooling in his stomach already over flowing as he came again with a soft cry, there wasn’t as much nectar that came out this time, though Kaeya made no motion that he was about to stop yet. On the contrary, his pace was only getting faster and more forceful, causing the whopper’s dick to twitch out a few more drops as the stimulation only continued to grow.

He’d forgotten entirely about holding up his legs, instead reaching to grasp Kaeya’s wrists in an almost bruising grip. His dick wasn’t hard now but it was still sensitive from its two nigh consecutive orgasms, the prominent pinch of overstimulation with each thrust making him whimper and squirm. Too loudly for Kaeya apparently, as he was quick to lean back down to the whopper’s mouth and muffle him once more.

A hand moved off his hip, searching out the slime again, but returned instead to grasp his over sensitive dick. He grew immediately louder from this, gripping and clawing at Kaeya’s back while the knight ignored his objections, matching his thrusts with the assault his hand was making on Subject Three’s still soft, overstimulated dick.

“Nnh— Kae..ya.. n-noo,” he managed to whine against the other’s lips, but to little avail, almost sobbing by the time his dick was responding again to Kaeya’s movements.

The loud slapping of Kaeya’s hips hitting his ass with each thrust seemed almost enough to drown out Subject Three’s muffled moans, though Kaeya too hadn’t been silent himself. The breathy groans he made against the whopper’s mouth were growing more frequent and both his breath and pace more erratic, when suddenly his hips and hand both came to a stuttered stop. Kaeya cursed under his breath, eyes shut as Subject Three felt something hot spill into him that made his dick twitch painfully in Kaeya’s hand, apparently reminding the knight of its presence as he began stroking it again, moving his hips too though much slower this time.

Regardless of the pain, and the way he could feel Kaeya softened inside him, and just how exhausted his body was, he could still feel himself somehow getting tipped back to the edge. Although it hurt, he was so close again, he didn’t want him to stop yet. Despite Kaeya’s persistent grip sliding easily over his dick now, the sensation as he finally slid out along with the slurry of cum and slime that oozed out with him was what sent him into his third orgasm; dry and agonizing, leaving him gasping and whimpering under Kaeya, tears streaking his cheeks.

He’d never felt so tired in his life, he noted through the haze of his afterglow. He saw Kaeya move away from the bed before his vision dimmed to nothing.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Tedious Joys - Chapter 8 - END

- Ao3 link -

“You’re not going to like what we’ve decided,” Lao Nie said.

Lan Qiren could have guessed that from the way that the other man had marched into the room and promptly used Lan Qiren’s thigh as a pillow, primarily, Lan Qiren suspected, because he didn’t want to have to look Lan Qiren in the face.

It was a common tactic of his these days. The Nie clan had always been inclined towards tactile behavior and a certain lack of personal boundaries – personal information was too much to share, but apparently bodies were free game – and Lao Nie had very quickly transitioned from embarrassment to taking advantage of his newfound dependency on regular physical contact with Lan Qiren. Much to Lan Qiren’s relief, they had managed, with some experimenting and considerable effort on all parts involved, for Lao Nie to form a bond directly with the jade pendant. Now, as long as he carried the pendant, he was able to be by himself for a shichen or so without experiencing any degradation in his mental state – and that, in turn, enabled them both to separate and allowed them both some measure of privacy.

Unfortunately, after that shichen was over, Lao Nie would begin to become irritable and irrational again, his eyes slowly becoming bloodshot as the rage and resentful energy contained now wholly within him, rather than in the jade – in Jiwei, rather – began to need to be excised. Exercise and cultivation with a heavy training saber helped slow the effects, as did Lan Qiren’s musical efforts to calm and clear his mind, but Lao Nie’s cultivation was simply too high for it to last for very long. It was as if half his meridians had vanished overnight and yet he continued to cultivate as he did before; it was as if his dominant arm had been abruptly cut off, and yet he instinctively continued to try to do everything he previously could. He needed his saber to complete even a standard circulation of his qi, and short of suppressing his spiritual energy entirely (another experiment that met with some limited success, getting them another two shichen of time apart if they really needed it, but which was not a long-term solution given the unfortunate side effects), he had to have access to it.

Currently, that access was through Lan Qiren.

“If you’re warning me in advance, I’m quite certain that I won’t like it,” he said mildly, continuing to play uninterrupted. He wasn’t cultivating anything at the moment – the piece he was working on was actually a refinement of the music he’d inadvertently created in his grief at Cangse Sanren’s death, the one that had made his normally very stable nephews burst into tears, and he didn’t want to add spiritual energy to it until he’d worked out exactly how he wanted it to go. He reached an appropriate stopping place, noted down a few revisions to the score, and put his guqin aside. “You should tell me about it regardless.”

Lao Nie exhaled. “Well, good news first – the smiths have finally finished conferring and they’ve concluded that they believe it’s possible to try reforging Jiwei, so they’re willing to give it a try.”

“Good,” Lan Qiren said. He hadn’t really understood the spiritual weaponsmiths’ reluctance on the subject, but he respected their expertise as craftsmen, just as they respected his as a musician. “Once the saber has been remade, I can reestablish the resonance between them and, in theory, Jiwei should be able to use that pathway to return - and with greater ease, as she would be returning to her more familiar self.”

“Not that easy, unfortunately,” Lao Nie said regretfully. “Jiwei was shattered. To remake the blade, they will need to – for want of a better explanation – melt her down and start entirely afresh. It will be like having a wholly different saber, albeit with the same metal that she’s used to.”

Lan Qiren frowned.

“There, you see the issue. If it’s a new saber, the familiarity will be absent. We will need to work on reestablishing the resonance the way we did with the pendant, and that means –”

“Slowly.” Lan Qiren’s frown deepened. It had taken him years to establish that initial resonance, and knowing how it was done could only reduce the process by so much. “That is indeed a problem. I cannot stay here as long as that would take. In all truth, I am surprised that I have not already been summoned back by my sect…”

“Oh, you have,” Lao Nie said cheerfully. “A-Jue burned the letters and told the messengers to fuck off.”

Lan Qiren’s jaw dropped. “He did what?!”

“Did we not say? You’ve officially been kidnapped! Well, no, really it’s more of a hostage exchange situation, since they have A-Sang with them…oh, don’t look so horrified, Qiren,” Lao Nie said, starting to laugh. “Your sect elders have indicated that no offense was taken, under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?!” Lan Qiren spluttered a little. “You’re not serious! What circumstances could justify one sect kidnapping another sect’s sect leader, acting or otherwise?!”

Lao Nie stopped laughing, the sound cutting off as if he’d been choked. “Yes, well,” he said, closing his eyes. “That’s the part you’re really not going to like.”

Lan Qiren determinedly prodded at Lao Nie’s shoulder until the other man, grumbling, sat up and took a proper seat so that they could have this discussion face-to-face. Their knees remained touching, which was good enough, and about all that the scoundrel deserved at the moment.

“Explain,” Lan Qiren ordered, and Lao Nie dipped his head into a nod.

“There are several relevant points,” he said crisply, dropping into the familiar pattern of a report. “First, Hanhan has clearly decided that he wants me dead –”

“Must you?” Lan Qiren interjected, even though he had not meant to interrupt.

“Oh, I must.” Lao Nie’s eyes were flinty. “He decided that if he couldn’t have me – and no one said he couldn’t, except his own paranoia – that if he couldn’t, no one could, and I’m not about to forgive him for that, don’t worry. But he’s still my Hanhan, my A-Han, underneath all his madness, and for my own sake, I’m not going to let anyone, whether him or me, forget it. No matter how necessary, some things have to hurt, and to their fullest extent...However, that’s not what’s relevant now. May I continue?”

Lan Qiren nodded.

“He wants me dead,” Lao Nie said, resuming his narrative. “Now that he tried once, he may try again, and I currently lack the capability to defend myself – the doctors, and you, have all agreed that I should avoid any excessive use of qi, and fighting a battle with a saber that isn’t Jiwei is a recipe for disaster in the best of times. I can’t exactly swing the pendant around, can I? Moreover, it may take years for us to establish the resonance, re-transfer Jiwei, and for me to re-familiarize myself with the new saber.”

Lan Qiren did not like the way this was going.

“There’s also the matter that I can’t be without physical contact with you for extended periods of time, and you of course have your responsibility to your sect,” Lao Nie continued. “Kidnapping you is, at best, a temporary fix. We will need something more permanent, and your sect elders have already indicated that they won’t let you marry out until your nephews are grown – and obviously we can’t wait that long, even assuming you’d want to marry me.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth.

“Don’t say that you’d be willing to make the sacrifice to marry me, because even if you would, I wouldn’t. Putting aside the fact that you wouldn’t be happy leaving the Cloud Recesses and as much as I adore you, having been married before, I’m quite certain that I only want to marry my lovers, thank you.”

Lan Qiren had, in fact, been about to make an offer just like that, but he kept his mouth shut. They could discuss it at length at a later point.

“In short, the best solution to all of these problems, therefore, appears to be to allow events to play out as Hanhan would have wanted: for me to die.”

“You cannot be serious!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, abruptly furious. “After all the effort we put into saving your life, you would just throw it away?”

Lao Nie held up his hands. “Forgive me, I spoke unwisely – ‘do not take your words lightly’, right?”

Lan Qiren was usually very easily distracted by the mention of the Lan sect rules, but he resisted the temptation and glared.

“I didn’t mean I’d actually die,” Lao Nie said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Only that that would be the story we put out to the world. The process has already begun – that’s why your sect elders aren’t kicking up a fit about A-Jue being so rude to them about refusing to return you.”

“They think he’s in mourning,” Lan Qiren realized. “Whether actual, or merely preemptive.”

He could see how it might appear that way: Nie Mingjue showing up late in the evening, depositing a shaken and terrified Nie Huaisang, using up all the medical supplies in Lan Qiren’s personal possession, and then asking Lan Qiren to return home with him…

Due to Lan Qiren’s friendship with Lao Nie, Nie Mingjue had grown up especially close to the Lan sect; Lan Qiren had been his teacher, and in the end he was only fifteen, even if most people didn’t know that. Even in a world where Lao Nie could not have been saved, he might have refused to let Lan Qiren go home so quickly, seeking comfort from the sole familial authority, however informally constituted, that he had remaining.

“But Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren said slowly. “If you are supposedly dead, then Mingjue will need to become sect leader.”

Lao Nie grimaced, but nodded.

He’d been right about one thing, at least: Lan Qiren did not like what the Nie sect had decided.

He didn’t like it one bit.

“You know what that will do to him,” he said. He himself knew it better than anyone.

“I do,” Lao Nie confirmed, looking pained. “But it’s the best out of a short list of very bad options. If I stay on as sect leader in my current state, someone will kill me – probably Hanhan, but maybe someone else, one of the many small sects that have ambitions of taking the Nie sect’s place – and if that happens, A-Jue will have to become sect leader in truth, without my support. At least this way, I can act as an advisor, aid him with paperwork…that sort of thing.”

As much as Lan Qiren would have liked to argue, he didn’t have a good rebuttal to that.

Lao Nie’s position within the Nie sect was as secure as anything, and the Nie sect’s position as a Great Sect was nearly as unshakable, but there were always smaller sects looking to see whether that could change. If he were known to be so critically weakened...Wen Ruohan might not even need to kill him personally. He’d just need to wait.

And the rest was true, too. There were many things Lao Nie could do from a distance - his month at the Lan sect had shown that much - and having someone reliable to turn to for advice and hard choices was the ideal sort of transition for a new sect leader.

Still, the sect conferences alone would be horrifying, and those Lao Nie would not be able to aid Nie Mingjue with, even if he could help with all the rest.

He hated it.

But he couldn’t argue against it.

“Moreover, without the bulk of the responsibilities of sect leader on my shoulders, I’ll have more opportunity to focus on healing.”

That was true as well. Lao Nie had been hurt very deeply by Jiwei’s destruction. His cultivation had fallen, his usual cultivation pathway denied to him, his trust in his own mental well-being betrayed…in an ideal world, Lan Qiren would recommend seclusion for a few months, maybe even a year, for him to focus on reestablishing his connection with himself, re-centering his foundation so that he could climb up once more. But for a sect leader, that was impossible.

“Very well,” Lan Qiren said, although he made sure by his tone to make clear how much he disapproved. “I understand the basis for your decision.”

“I thought you might.”

“There’s only one flaw I see with your plan.”

“Oh?”

Lan Qiren folded his hands together in front of him. “You still need me, don’t you? Even with the excuse of mourning, Nie Mingjue can only request my presence for so long before the demands of my sect become paramount over their respect for his filial piety and grief.”

“Oh, we’ll let you go back eventually,” Lao Nie said with a shrug. “And I’d go with you.”

Lan Qiren had been expecting that. “And how exactly do you intend to keep the story of your death intact if you’re living with me at the Cloud Recesses? Even if we increase your tolerance such that you can stay home at all times, my home is often visited by my students, including those from other sects – and while there may be a rule against talking behind people’s backs, it is one of the most commonly broken.”

Lao Nie winced in a way that suggested both that he had thought of an answer to that question and also that Lan Qiren was going to hate it.

“Whatever you say, I cannot dislike it more than A-Jue becoming sect leader at fifteen,” Lan Qiren pointed out.

“I don’t know about that,” Lao Nie said. “Given that to this day you despise the smell of gentians.”

Lan Qiren’s brain came to an abrupt halt.

“Absolutely not,” he said.

“Qiren…”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s a good solution,” Lao Nie argued. “No one in your sect goes to that house – most of them don’t even know it exists! It’s within a short walking distance of your home, protected by arrays to enhance silence and protect privacy…”

“I am not locking you in He Kexin’s place!” Lan Qiren bellowed.

“You wouldn’t be locking me anywhere,” Lao Nie said, for once the reasonable and calm one in the face of Lan Qiren’s fury. “I would be going willingly, and I would be free to leave at any time. You’re not your brother, Qiren, and I’m not He Kexin – not least of which because I’m neither capable of nor interested in bearing two sons for you as a means of passing the time.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. “A bit of a pity, that. I’m sure they’d be cute.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes at him, although the reassurance and humor had helped douse the worst of his terror at the mere idea. Irritatingly, it was a good solution: he had made the trek to He Kexin’s home hundreds of times and no one had ever raised any questions. In the unlikely event that they did so now, he could claim he was merely tending to the garden to maintain it for his nephews; more likely, however, they would simply not notice – the path between the two locations was short and purposefully discrete.

“You’ll need someone to clean the place,” he pointed out. “Even He Kexin had servants, and if you don’t want anyone from the Lan sect finding out about it…”

“I have some servants that are loyal to me personally, and which are not Nie sect disciples,” Lao Nie said. “They can seek employment at the Cloud Recesses on the basis that they didn’t want to remain here after I’d gone – literally true, if you think about it in a certain light. Your sect would snatch them up in a heartbeat.”

They would, too, even without Lan Qiren interfering: properly trained servants who knew how to serve cultivators were a precious commodity that often had to be raised up from a young age or recruited with great caution from the ranks of rogue cultivators, and ones with the skills and experience that came from serving at another Great Sect were even more valued than most. And once they were part of the Cloud Recesses, there would be no difficulty in Lan Qiren adding the task of caring for He Kexin’s house to their list of duties.

“It’s a good plan,” he finally conceded, and Lao Nie sniggered.

“You look as though you’ve bitten into a lemon, Qiren. Did it hurt to say?”

“It hurt to think,” he retorted, and turned back to his guqin. “Will you visit my brother while you’re there? He might enjoy hearing your voice and knowing that you are close.”

Lao Nie had always refused in the past, and he shook his head now. “Not all of us are as forgiving as you, Qiren. Qingheng-jun made his choices.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He makes them again every day,” Lao Nie disagreed. “He may have declared that he would stay in seclusion for the rest of his life to make amends, but that was his decision. He could break his oath and come out, do the right thing, but he doesn’t want to.”

It was an old argument, and an unproductive one. Lan Qiren shook his head, signaling that he would no longer engage.

He had other things to be concerned with, and would for some time. There was helping with Lao Nie’s recovery, creating the new resonance, playing calming music for him, keeping his secret; he would also need to help support Nie Mingjue as much as possible during his transition to sect leader, whether through correspondence and advice or through active intervention during the discussion conferences. He would need to manage his nephews, who he had taught so carefully not to lie, and yet they would need to learn to keep this secret, too.

Taking care of Lao Nie would also be an additional set of duties, on top of being sect leader and being a teacher and being himself, but Lan Qiren didn’t mind it.

It wouldn’t be so bad, actually, now that he thought of it without prejudice. To have someone close by to take tea with in the afternoons when his nephews were too busy and it wasn’t the right time of year for students, someone with whom he could speak on any range of subjects, including his occasional frustrations with his sect, stories about his students, the political troubles of the day – a friend close by, rather than at a distance. Someone who would probably encourage him to take more exercise than he usually did, to try things outside of his comfort zone, someone who would listen to his ideas on music or the rules without judgment, someone who would share his burdens and support him…it would be a little like having a wife, but without all the inconvenient aspects that he so thoroughly disliked.

“It’s not too bad, as such things go,” Lao Nie said, his thoughts clearly moving along a similar line as Lan Qiren’s. “Whatever the world thinks, I’ll be the first Nie sect leader to live to enjoy a retirement, however premature.”

This was true.

“I’ll miss my boys, of course,” Lao Nie added. “But I’ll write, and you can invite A-Sang to your lectures when he’s old enough. A-Jue can come visit you, sect leader to sect leader…I wouldn’t be the first father to only see his children a few times a year.”

“Nie Huaisang will probably fail my classes,” Lan Qiren said, having been acquainted with the individual in question for some time now. A clever child, even very clever, but he was also lazy, hated reciting facts, and was as stubborn as a rock – as stubborn as his father. “You’ll probably have the joy of him for several summers in a row.”

Lao Nie smiled.  

“Well, I can’t say this was what I expected when I wrote to you for help all those years ago,” he joked, leaning down and playing with the jade token that now hung from his belt rather than Lan Qiren’s. Wen Ruohan would probably have a fit if he ever saw it – indeed, Lan Qiren was already looking forward to that day in the future, however distant, where Lao Nie would regain his saber and his former strength and re-emerge to make his feelings on the subject of Wen Ruohan’s actions clear. “But I’m still glad you came.”

“As am I, my friend,” Lan Qiren said. “As am I.”