#so glad so many are enthusiastic about this as i am

[pinkeoni]

SUPERNATURAL COMING OF AGE HORROR + TRANSFORMATION TROPE + MONSTER BOY TROPE + QUEERNESS BEING SEEN AS PREDATORY + WILL’S CONNECTION TO THE UPSIDE DOWN HE’S GOING TO EAT PEOPLE!!

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The S1 Bentley is For Sale! 👀

link

from the description :):

Mary is a 1934 Derby Bentley Thrupp & Maberley bodied Coupe. BLE 430 – B 96 BN. Two were made but the other one has not been seen since WW11, so she is unique. She is also the only Bentley in the world to have been blown up twice on screen. She was owned by Speed King Donald Campbell in the early fifties.

I acquired her in 2009, to go with my 1947 Mark VI. Since then the engine has been completely re-built, including a new head and block, with a new clutch put in at the same time. She has also been re-wired, new kingpins, total brake overhaul, new radiator and fuel pump with suspension and one shot lubrication system overhauled. Also had the speedometer and rev.counter serviced in 2018. She runs superbly and has just had her annual service at AB Classics, who specialise in pre-war Bentleys & Rolls Royces. (He also looks after my 1936 25/30 RR ).

She is currently insured for £295,000 and I will be looking for an offer around £265,000.

History

Ordered for Jack Odling in September 1934. One of two 3 ½ lt Coupes made by Thrupp & Maberley. The other one has not been seen for several decades and presumed lost during World War 2. Not much early history but owned by Speed King Donald Campbell in the early 1950’s. We have a photograph of the car at that time being offered for sale, with silver wheel discs. His ownership is acknowledged by all the relevant history available in various publications and agreed with both Bentley Drivers Club & Rolls Royce Enthusiasts Club records. She went through three owners from October 1954 to October 1961. Next piece of history is she was acquired by a Mr Silk of Romford in 1973 and underwent extensive professional restoration up to 1994, with a mechanical overhaul in 1994. She was back on the road in 1998. She was then purchased from P & A Wood by Andrew Smith in August 2001. He kept her until early 2008 when he sold her to Brian Classic as he did not wish to re- wire her. I bought her from Brian Classic in April 2009 with money left to me by my late Mother, Mary. We only just made the 100 miles home with many electrical problems. I am glad to say that Brian Classic eventually made a substantial contribution to the re-wiring by Jeremy Padgett. The following year going into the RREC Concours the heating nearly went into the red so back to Jeremy Padgett to sort out. Result was a complete engine re-build by Ristes, also replaced the radiator core and new clutch plate. Finally back on the road in May 2012. Very expensive period. However, she is now in superb condition, being regularly serviced by AB Classics. More recently the carburettors have been re-built. Following an accident on set in 2017 she was sent to Steve Penny at Penny Vintage to restore the damaged door. Sadly this was one of his last jobs before retiring. What a superb craftsman he is, he made a fabulous job of restoring her. Needless to say she still looks superb. I have owned and enjoyed classic cars since 1969 and Mary must be my ultimate car.

TV & Film work

...

when the call came. Jeremy, I am looking for a 1926 Derby Bentley, preferably black. Can you find me one please. I explained that they were not invented until 1933 and that mine was made in 1934 and is grey and black and has not changed since Endeavour three years earlier. Half an hour later phone goes again, can you bring your car down for production to have a look at in Ealing early next week. Production were delighted with Mary, especially after a bit of a run round Ealing. At this point no-one would tell me what it was all about, apart from the fact that this was “The Big One”. Two days later phone goes again, she is going to be Crowley’s Bentley in “Good Omens” by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. My wife quickly ordered the book and read it. The Bentley was mentioned almost 80 times. Can I please take her to a specialist body maker for her cab to be replicated for studio scenes. Can I find an interior etc. I phoned Hew at The Real Car Company, who was a tremend ous help. A complete set of instruments and a steering wheel duly arrived. Next, I was asked if I could take the car to Wokingham to be copied. Absolutely staggered to discover they wanted the car at Rushton’s Farm, where I lived from 1957 to 1963. Father’s chicken sheds had been converted into industrial units. A half hour drop off turned into four hours, as I took an old photograph album to show the current owners. The farmhouse had been separated from the rest of the farm by this time. A real trip down memory lane for me. Looking for a Derby body, seats etc, Hew recommended talking to Bob Petersen. He was stripping down a Thrupp & Maberley saloon to make one of his famous specials, so that was purchased complete with dash, seats etc so Mary could be well and truly replicated. Even changed the indicator switch so that both were identical. By this time the cast list had leaked out on the Internet. David Tennant and Michael Sheene are the main stars with others being added on a daily basis. I met many people but mainly worked with these two, especially David. He is one of the nicest guys you could ever wish to meet. Very hardworking but happily chats to everyone. I got Mary back from the farm in September, ready to start filming. The first scene was near Marlow for a two day shoot where I started to meet the cast and crew. 

Trying to teach David how to drive Mary was a bit of a struggle. Most people in their forties haven’t a clue about cars without syncromesh on all gears, and David normally drives an automatic! However, Rob, the stunt driver did know how to drive Mary and quickly picked up the fact that the clutch cannot be depressed for any length of time. The main problem with David and Rob changing over was about six inches in height. Don’t think the seat had been moved so much for years, with a gentle application of oil on the runners and avoidance of catching the carpet. During this period Mary used the registration NIATRUC, Curtain spelt backwards (the subject is the end of the world ). The Morris Minor had SID RAT , TARDIS spelt backwards. David was an earlier Dr Who! Being the grandad on set meant that I was well looked after by everyone, who made sure I had Mary in the right place and usually a radio as well. There is a lot of hanging about on set then a burst of activity. Some shots are repeated over a dozen times to get differing angles and eventually sort out which take will be used. Within a few days I was getting the hang of it, meeting the directors, the camera guys, the sound technicians, moving from location to location, usually in or around the M 25 then in central London. Naturally you can watch Good Omens on BBC iplayer and see how much Mary appeared. There are a few pictures of what it is like on set. 

[councilofcastamere]

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

[dashcon-two]

Volunteering, Virtual Dash, and Various Other Happenings!

Hey y’all!

Buckle up, we’ve got a bit of everything in this one.

Volunteer Applications!

We’re excited to say that volunteer applications for DashCon 2 are now open! You can apply to our form here (https://forms.gle/aaBjd9eSGZBsARBE7), or find out more on our website (https://www.dashcontwo.com/volunteering/). Our convention relies on volunteer staff to keep everything running smoothly, and there’s plenty of work to go around. We’re really glad to have received interest from so many of y’all, so applications will be open until we’ve filled all of our positions.

All regular volunteers will be assigned to at least one 4-hour shift between 7 AM and 11:30 PM on July 5th, 2025. Volunteers who complete their shift, or otherwise work 4 or more hours, will get free access to the con for the rest of the day.

Successful applicants will be required to sign a waiver to volunteer for the convention. Applicants who are under 18 years old must have a parent or guardian sign their waiver.

What about Virtual DashCon?

We appreciate all of the feedback we got after our announcement post last week! We’re happy to say that we’re going ahead with our plans for a virtual convention! However, considering how many of you were enthusiastic about the concept of virtual dash, we’d like to address a common question!

Why would a virtual con cost money? Because it costs money to run! We’re partnering with Live Media to ensure that the live-streamed panels, pit, and duel will run smoothly. We want to make our convention as accessible as possible, we’ve received hundreds of messages from people who couldn’t get a ticket, but we just don’t have the resources or expertise to run a virtual event with volunteers alone. Even with a professional live-streaming team, we’ll need to organize moderators for the official server, vet digital panellists, and all the other administrative work that comes with a virtual event. DashCon 2 is going down in history one way or another, but we’ll be damned if we don’t get good footage for the next generation of documentarians.

We’ll also donate 15% of every ticket to the Canadian Cancer Society! That’s 15% of the total price of the tickets, not the profits. You can learn more about our fundraiser here, and donate directly to our campaign on the Canadian Cancer Society’s website.

Drag at DashCon 2!

DashCon 2 is excited to announce that we’ll be featuring a spectacular showcase of talented drag performers! Performers will be lipsyncing, dancing, and generally serving, to the tune of such classics as How Bad Can I Be? We’re happy to say that we have two confirmed drag artists: Heaven/Hellish Lee (@heaven_lee_court.hellish_lee) and Pandora’s Box Muncher (@pandorasboxmuncher), both on Instagram! They are both incredibly talented - please check out their work and give them some love :)

We hope to announce a few additional performers before the day of the con, so stay tuned!

If you’re an interested local performer: please feel free to reach out to us directly at activities@dashcontwo.com with a link to your website/social(s), a few example photos, and what sort of performance you’d like to give. Portfolios may contain 18+ content, but performances at DashCon 2 must be appropriate for ages 13+.

LVLUP Board Game Room

We’re happy to remind you all that DashCon 2 will have a board game room, kindly sponsored by LVLUP Games! A quick FYI: while they will be providing board games of all sorts, they will not be providing TTRPG materials, dice, or DMs, so you’ll have to BYOD (Bring Your Own Dice). There must be at least a few dice goblins in our audience who have collections to show off.

As always, you can find more information on our website or follow us on Substack!

[g1rld1ary]

long time no see - aaron hotchner x hs gf!reader

wc: 1395

cw: minor drinking

me: first time writing for hotch so sorry if there are characterisation issues!!!! i love this pairing so feel free to send reqs if u want more from them bc they're cuties <33

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Aaron Hotchner am I dreaming or is that you?” You called from across the semi-quiet bar of some middle-of-the-road restaurant. You weren’t 100% convinced it was really him, but the upright posture and stern side profile brought back a lifetime of memories.

Aaron turned quickly, almost paranoid, but his face flashed through a thousand emotions as he took in the sight of you. He settled on what looked like joy, though it was always a little bit of a gamble with him, especially after so many years apart. The intricacies of his expressions weren’t intimacies you were entitled to anymore.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, reciprocating your warm embrace, “You look great.”

“As do you, Aaron. This suit is really nice.” You ran your fingers along his lapels. It was a gesture probably too familiar for two people who hadn’t seen each other in fifteen years, but seeing Aaron had already had an effect on you.

“Do you live around here?” Hotch asked again, a hand warm on your bicep even as you’d stopped hugging.

“Just moved back,” You answered brightly, “Spent the last decade or so in New York but, you know, my parents are getting older. Thought it was time to come home.”

“I’m glad. It’s really great to see you.”

“What are you up to now? Still—”

“Hotch!” A voice interrupted, “Our table’s ready. Who’s this?” The man was obviously a few years younger than Aaron which made you question their relationship — coworkers was the most likely answer, but they seemed awfully comfortable together. Behind them, you caught a glance of a larger group all looking at you curiously. You weren’t ashamed to say you were intimidated.

Aaron took a long look at you as he considered how to answer his friend’s question.

“An old friend from high school.” He introduced you both, and you took particular notice of the title Morgan was given.

“SSA?” You asked, “Like the FBI? I thought you were going to be a lawyer, Aaron?”

“Your friend is team leader of the BAU,” Morgan laughed as Hotch’s humble nature started to show, “He’s a bit of a top dog around the FBI.”

“I can see that.” You were impressed, you hadn’t imagined your high school boyfriend would end up as an important FBI agent.

“I was a prosecutor for a while,” Aaron conceded to make you feel better, “But I’ve been with the FBI for a while now, I feel like I’m making more of a difference.”

You shook your head with a small laugh, “You’re as good as you used to be, Aaron Hotchner. Tell me, has he developed any flaws since he’s been at the BAU?” You directed the question over to Morgan, whose interested surprise was clear in his expression. Evidently, he didn’t exactly agree with you, though you could see plainly how much he respected him.

“Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be an incompetent local cop — I’m pretty sure he knows more insults than the rest of the team combined.”

“Will you eat with us?” Aaron changed the subject suddenly, “Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

You glanced over at the novel sitting in your now-vacant seat and didn’t think twice. You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing over to collect your things and return before the invitation could be rescinded.

You tried to stay calm as you approached the immensely intimidating table of FBI agents, all doing a poor job of acting as if they hadn’t just been talking about you.

“Hi,” You smiled, sitting down in the empty seat next to Aaron. You were immediately bombarded with questions. About yourself, your life, your relationship with Aaron. It was overwhelming, but you liked the energy and you liked seeing Aaron all grown up.

It was clear his team respected him, you could see it in every look they gave him, and you didn’t even need to be a profiler to notice it. You were strangely proud of him despite not having been in his life for the majority of adulthood, but you supposed everyone always had a bit of a soft spot for their first love.

“Why did you two break up?” Doctor Reid, the youngest of the group, asked as you all tucked into your food. You looked at Aaron for a long moment, a million memories slingshotting themselves to the forefront of your brain.

“I hardly remember,” You answered finally, “I’m sure it wasn’t a good reason — it rarely is when you’re young. I daresay I was probably jealous of the college girls getting to see Aaron every day whilst I was in AP Lang.”

“You’re younger?” Elle asked with sudden interest, a teasing smile on her lips. You nodded, picking up your wine glass.

“Two years.”

“My man!” Derek cheered and you were sure he would have tried to dap his boss up if it wasn’t so entirely anti-Hotch.

The dinner, though definitely a little strange, was full of joy and you enjoyed it immensely. The BAU were a group of such lovely people, they were immediately welcoming to you. They did, however, make you feel old.

Spencer was practically a child, only twenty-three, you and Aaron had already been broken up for a few years by twenty-three! Elle wasn’t much older, and Garcia and Morgan acted a bit like twelve-year-olds when together. You were told stories about Gideon, an older agent who’d built the BAU, but apparently he’d flaked dinner.

The meal wrapped up, and you couldn’t stop your gratitude flowing out for the wonderful night you’d had. Maybe you were a little bit wine drunk. Luckily the team all reciprocated, expressing fond wishes to see you again.

“Can I drive you home?” Aaron asked as the table began collecting their things and pulling on coats.

“That would be nice,” You beamed, “Just let me pop to the bathroom or I’ll be pissing in your car seats again. Uh, don’t ask.” Garcia giggled behind her hand as you darted off through the restaurant.

“She seems nice,” Elle said, buttoning up her coat.

“She is nice. It’s nice to reconnect with an old friend.”

“She might be nice but she’s not a friend, man. She looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky.” Hotch shook his head at Derek’s accusation, but there was definitely the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“It’s true,” Reid piped up, “Her pupils dilated significantly when looking at you, she was almost always leant towards you with open posture, and she brushed her hair behind her ear sixteen times during the meal.” He awkwardly reciprocated Morgan’s offered high-five.

Hotch was a perfect gentleman, even when you weren’t dating. He’d given you his arm as you strolled down toward his car in a nearby parking lot and opened the passenger door for you to hop in. When you’d told him the address to your flat he didn’t plug it in the GPS which was inconsequential but hugely impressive.

“Who would’ve thought after all these years we’d be back in the same city, driving around town late at night?” You sighed contentedly, watching lights and buildings pass through the rain-spotted window.

Aaron hummed in agreement, both hands on the steering wheel. You liked to watch them, you always had.

“Let’s not leave it so long next time, hm?” Aaron said as he escorted you up to your apartment door. You didn’t invite him in and he showed no indication of wanting to enter. The night was enough. “It was really great to see you.”

You smiled, a warm, genuine one that had Aaron smiling back. For a moment you saw his eighteen-year-old self in it, the image of him kissing you goodnight after his prom fresh in your mind.

“Aaron?” You called him back and he didn’t hesitate, long strides bringing him back to you in moments. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, pleased by his gentle surprise, “I really missed you.”

[amirasainz]

Can you write a Yn Alonso story where George and her have a proper British tea party. Geroge tells Yn that she is now a true princess. .ame it fluff and cute 🙏😭❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Unky Georgie

Three-year-old Yn Alonso, the tiniest bundle of joy in the paddock, bounced on her toes as she held onto her uncle George’s hand. Her rose-colored dress swayed with every step, layers of tulle billowing around her like the gown of a true princess. She gazed up at George, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. Uncle George, or “Unky Georgie,” as she liked to call him, had promised her something very special that day while her dad, was away at a meeting. Today, Yn was going to have her very first Princess Tea Party.

George knelt down to her level, smoothing out her dress a bit. "Alright, Princess Yn," he said in a very serious tone, his British accent making her giggle, "are you ready for your royal tea party?"

Yn gasped, nodding her head enthusiastically. "Yes, Unky Georgie! I'm ready!" She clutched a tiny pink purse to her side, her other hand wrapped around his fingers.

"Right this way, Your Royal Highness," George said, guiding her to a little setup he’d created just for her near the back of the paddock. He had found a small table with two chairs and had decorated it with a pink cloth, a little flower in a vase, and a selection of pastries piled high on a plate. In the middle, he’d set a small teapot with a delicate floral design and two matching cups.

Yn’s eyes sparkled as she took in the scene. "It’s so pretty!" she gasped, looking up at George with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. "Is this… is this really for me, Unky Georgie?"

George nodded, his face lit with a proud smile. "All for you, Princess. Only the best for royalty, of course."

He held out her chair, and she carefully climbed onto it, smoothing out her dress like she’d seen princesses do in her favorite storybooks. Once she was settled, George took the seat opposite her. He poured “berry tea”—actually a bit of berry-flavored water he’d prepared—into each cup, trying his best to look as dignified as possible.

Yn picked up her cup carefully with both hands, peeking over the rim to look at George. "Do I look like a real princess, Unky Georgie?"

George smiled warmly, nodding. "You look like the most real princess I’ve ever seen." He raised his cup as if to toast. "To Princess Yn, ruler of the paddock kingdom!"

She giggled, clinking her tiny cup against his. "To the paddock kingdom!" she repeated, trying to sound very grand. Then she took a sip, her face lighting up at the taste of the berry water.

George took a pretend sip as well, lifting his pinky finger dramatically. "Now, tell me, Princess Yn, what does a real princess do at a tea party?"

Yn thought for a moment, scrunching up her nose. "Princesses talk about their… about their kingdom!" she decided. "And about the animals and… and the fairies and… and the horses!"

"Ah, yes," George said, nodding along. "Do you have many fairies in your kingdom, Princess?"

Yn nodded, her face very serious. "Lots! And they’re all pink and blue and sparkly, and they love tea parties. And they sing songs to the horses so they can go super fast!"

George chuckled, absolutely charmed by her imagination. "Just like your papa and his car! Maybe the fairies help him go super fast too?"

Yn’s eyes lit up. "Yes! Papa has fairies too. And… and maybe you have fairies, Unky Georgie!"

George gasped in mock surprise. "You think so? Maybe that's why I’m so fast!"

Yn giggled and reached for a tiny pastry from the plate. It was almost too big for her little hands, but she managed, taking a small bite and grinning at the taste. "Mmm, this is my favorite," she declared with her mouth full, looking at George as if they were in on a big secret.

"I'm glad, Princess. We have to keep the royal princess well-fed, after all." George pretended to munch on one of the pastries, savoring it dramatically. "These are delicious! Fit for a queen."

Yn looked delighted, holding her little pastry like it was made of gold. She glanced around as if worried someone might interrupt their special party. "Do you think Papa will come soon?"

George took her little hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Don’t worry, Princess Yn. He'll be here soon. And when he sees you looking so beautiful in your princess dress, I bet he’ll be so happy he might even want to join the tea party."

Yn’s eyes widened at the thought. "You think so? Papa will be a prince with us?"

"Absolutely," George replied confidently. "And you know what? He might even want to be your knight, protecting the kingdom."

Yn looked at him with all the wonder of a little girl who thought her papa was already the greatest knight in the world. "Papa would be the best knight!"

Just then, a familiar voice called from nearby. "What's going on here?" Fernando had returned from his meeting, and the sight before him nearly stopped him in his tracks. There was his daughter, perched like a little princess in her rose-colored dress, holding court over a tea party with her “Unky Georgie.”

Fernando’s heart melted instantly. He walked over, a soft smile spreading across his face as he took in the joy radiating from Yn’s face.

"Papá!" Yn squealed, jumping up and running to him, her arms open wide. Fernando scooped her up into a big hug, her tiny fingers clutching his neck. "Look, Papá! I’m a real princess now!" she declared, pulling back to show him her dress.

Fernando looked at George with a soft chuckle, his eyes full of gratitude. "A real princess, huh?" he asked, looking back at Yn with admiration. "Did Uncle Georgie make you a princess today?"

Yn nodded with pride. "Yes! And we had tea and pastries, and he said I have a kingdom with fairies!"

"That sounds wonderful, mi amor," Fernando murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I’m so happy you had fun."

George stood up, giving Fernando a mock bow. "Well, I was merely following orders from Her Royal Highness."

Fernando laughed, shaking his head. "Thank you, George. This was… perfect." He looked back at Yn, his face full of love. "You know, Princess, if you need a knight, your papa is always ready for the job."

Yn’s face lit up, and she reached for Fernando’s hand. "Can we all have tea together? All of us, Papá?"

"Of course," Fernando said with a smile, taking a seat beside her and picking up one of the tiny tea cups. "For my princess, I’ll do anything."

George grinned, raising his cup again. "To Princess Yn, ruler of all the fairies and horses in the paddock kingdom."

Yn raised her cup with a giggle. "And to Papá, my best knight ever!"

As they sipped their “tea” together, Yn looked up at her father and uncle, feeling like the happiest princess in the world. And for Fernando, seeing his little girl so full of joy made him feel like the luckiest dad in the world.

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Midnight Coffee

Pairing: John Shen x wife!doctor!Reader

AN: This is for all my Dr Shen truthers out there! Reader works in the morgue and is a doctor but I'm totally clueless about the nitty-gritty details so I left it vague. I did want to expand and write more but I was desperate to post this.

WC: 839

Warnings: Hospital inaccuracies, mentions on dead bodies and the results of Pittfest.

Synopsis: You take a much needed breather with your husband.

You were used to death. It was your job. Day in day out you saw and worked with death but today took a lot from you. The sheer amount of people who died brutally and scared for no other reason other than the selfish actions of a man.

You were drowning in the morgue, it was non stop for hours for you and your colleague, David, your turn that night after the ED and surgery had their chaos earlier that evening. There was a lull, a brief respite where you should relax back into a chair, close your eyes to relieve them from the strain and flex and rest your aching hands.

David watches you from their position across the table, they had arrived much later than you did and so you did a lot of work alone, which was something you did often enough but today was not an ordinary day.

"Take a breather" David tells you, "Fifteen-twenty minutes. Get a coffee and some fresh air."

You considered saying no but you honestly knew that you needed a break and so you nod, murmuring a 'thank you' as you push yourself up with a soft groan.

You grab yourself some shitty staffroom coffee before you walk to the ambulance bay and lift yourself up on the brick wall, letting your feet dangle freely. You smile as the cool breeze washes over you, it was stuffy in the morgue so this was a blessing.

Your smile quickly drops once you sip your shitty coffee.

"Hey"

You look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of your husband approaching you with an iced coffee and his hoodie.

"You're a sight for sore eyes" The sweet smile on your face is the one that is reserved only for your husband.

"Yeah?" John hands you the dunkin' iced coffee as he stands between your spread legs. "I hope you're always happy to see me."

"I am." You hum around your straw before the warmth of his hoodie envelopes you making you shiver in pleasure,"But with today... I really am glad to see your face."

John places his hands on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he hums in agreement, "How long do you have?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes" You check your watch, "You?"

"Ellis will come running if I'm needed"

"Not very attending like behaviour Dr Shen" You tease, "I'm telling Gloria first thing."

"Maybe she'll fire me and I can finally become a house husband."

"Not with that attending money you're making you're not" You scoff.

"So you're telling me you only married me for my money" John jokes.

"Yeah" You laugh, "Let's just forget the last ten years we've spent together and the fact you only became an attending three months ago."

"Can't believe we've been together for ten years" John pressed closer to you," How many more will you put up with me for?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, "At least for another five years but honestly... forever. I want to be by your side forever."

John pulls you into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling you deeper in love with him.

"And what about becoming Dr Shen?" John asks .

"I'm already married to you, you don't have to beg me anymore."

John laughs "First of all, I did not beg you. If I remember correctly, you enthusiastically said yes. Screamed it even. Besides, you know what I'm talking about."

"Sorry babe" You pull back slightly so you can look him in the eye. "I like my last name plenty enough and there's only enough space for one Dr Shen in this hospital."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

John rolls his eyes at your non-answer but this was a common light hearted back and forth between you, it was just a form of teasing and flirting for you two.

Your watch buzzes signalling the end of your break and you sign disappointedly. You took a couple more desperate mouthfuls of the iced coffee before returning it to John, not being allowed to bring a drink down to the morgue, along with his jumper before jumping off of the brick ledge you perched yourself on.

"Alright, I've got to go but I'll see you at the end of the shift."

"You think you'll be done by then?" John asks as he walks you to the elevator.

You shrugged, "No clue but Gloria has already given so much overtime tonight, I hardly doubt she will allow or approve anymore lest we lose ten nurses in return."

As the elevator reached their floor, you pulled John in a grounding comforting hug that will help you power through the rest of your day.

"I love you," You murmured into his chest, "So much."

"I love you too" John presses a soft kiss to your lips, "More than you can imagine."

You step away and into the elevator, pressing your floor and you wave at John until the doors close in front of you.

[beggars-opera]

I have a friend who dislikes her children.

That’s probably unfair, I’m sure she loves them very much, but there is real resentment there. Whether or not she wanted to be a mother is unclear, but her unhappiness sure is. Children are difficult, and if you’re not 100% prepared and enthusiastic about that it is going to be a terrible time for you.

I don’t think she is a bad person. She is frequently overwhelmed by both her family and the stream of idealized social media that makes it sound like everyone else is having a ball. So she goes on Facebook to talk about how miserable she is, how she misses her old life that all her friends seem to still have. It’s probably the only thing keeping her sane, along with her husband who actually loves kids.

This isn’t to shame anyone, but seeing her posts really cements in my mind how I would probably be in the same boat, and how glad I am that I made the decision not to put myself in this position. I would never want to bring another human into this world with the knowledge that they might make me miserable, and that I would likely make them miserable in turn, whether or not I meant to. No innocent child deserves that.

So many people still cling to a mythologized Feminine Instinct that states my uterus gives me more empathy, gives me more patience, gives me a duty that I can’t reject. They say that choosing to be childless is more selfish than having a child that you are unable to care for, that you will dislike. If those people saw the pain of those unsuited for motherhood I hope they would change their minds, but they never will.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; “but it’s weird that it happened twice”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“The lab dangerous to use right now?” Tucker asks, because he seriously never knows when the Fentons have put in some new security systems or booby traps, though usually the answer is “always”. Which, welllll . . . 

“The lab is literally always dangerous, man,” Danny says, so yeah, that’s still a thing. “Probably won’t kill us right now, though, so it’s our best option. C’mon, let’s get going, just in case Mom and Dad actually do find something. Like, it’s Amity, I’m not gonna assume they aren’t gonna actually find a ghost out there.” 

“Yeah, point,” Tucker agrees with a grimace, tucking his PDA away again and pushing his glasses up his nose. Badly-timed ghosts are very much a recurring theme in their lives. Actually they’re a major recurring theme in their lives, even these days. Heck, for a while in there, they just were their lives. 

Tucker is so, so glad they’re gotten genre-savvy in their own lives, but man was it a process. 

Jazz leads the way down to the lab while Danny texts Sam and Val, and Tucker brings up the rear just in case Dani stumbles on the steps or anything. Superboy falls in step beside her, his posture lazy and his walk more a saunter than anything else, and Tucker suffers about it. It does not make it easy to concentrate on Dani, is all he’s gonna say. Like, he’s doing it, but it is frankly painful. 

God, why is this dude so pretty. Why is that a thing? Tucker really did not realize he was into dudes, much less this into dudes. 

Okay, well, technically so far it’s just been this one specific dude, and to be fair Superboy is a pretty impressive one specific dude, but seriously, he is this into the guy? Just–seriously? 

Tucker is going to have to reexamine so many things about himself after this bullshit gets fixed. Like, just so, so many. 

“So like what kinda lab we talkin’ here, am I gonna feel right at home or am I gonna feel like I’m there to punch a bad guy?” Superboy asks Dani, cocking an eyebrow curiously. “Which admittedly those lines are a little blurred for me personally, but just like the general vibes.” 

“I dunno, it’s a lab?” Dani wrinkles her nose, then just shrugs. “Lotta chrome, never heard of OSHA, better-lit than Vlad’s.” 

“Who’s Vlad?” Superboy asks. 

“A very punchable dude,” Dani snorts, rolling her eyes, and Superboy laughs. 

“Oh, you the punchin’ type, boo?” he asks, draping an arm across her shoulders and tugging down his glasses to shoot her a flirty leer over the top of them. “‘Cuz I could get behind that, personally, that’s right up my alley.” 

Dani looks briefly bemused, then incredibly delighted, and cackles gleefully. Possibly over the promise of future punching or possibly over getting called “boo”; situation unclear there. Tucker has some maybe-weird feelings about the flirting thing despite being perfectly aware of both who Superboy very unsubtly is as a person and of Dani’s total disinterest in ever developing impulse control and both of their very loud and enthusiastic attention-seeking tendencies.

Maybe it’s just that it might be weird to solve a problem for Danny via bringing over a dude who’s gonna hit on his clone/daughter/sister/cousin while they’re trying to save her life? Because that would maybe be weird, Tucker can admit how that would maybe be weird. 

Though he hasn’t really heard Dani laugh in a while, so . . . yeah, that could be worse, for sure. 

“Like I’m gonna share the punching, please,” Dani scoffs, flipping her mussed ponytail over her shoulder. “Punching’s all mine, Superfly, I got dibs.” 

“I dunno, how fast you get, boo?” Superboy teases, and she laughs again. “We can work it out the old-fashioned way if you wanna just race it.” 

“You can try, if you think you can keep up,” Dani replies smugly, making a show of examining her nails. Superboy laughs too, and she grins up at him, and Tucker maybe feels like–

Then Dani’s mouth tightens, and her eyes flare, and she–flickers. 

Crap, Tucker thinks, and Superboy’s arm sinks a few inches into Dani’s shoulders as her tangibility stutters, and he yanks it back, and her face goes dead-white and her eyes glow, and Tucker curses and Danny whips around and Jazz whips around a beat slower than him as her hand snaps reflexively to the pocket she’s been keeping the Ecto-Dejecto in and–

Dani makes a choking sound, and it’s probably just as reflexive when she reaches out with a fumbling, halfway phased-out hand, and she’s probably meaning to reach for Danny, but her legs and feet go just intangible enough to drop her into the stairs and she goes straight down. Danny lunges down for her, not even taking the instant it’d take him to transform but already phasing to try and match her tangibility. 

And Superboy snaps out his own hand and catches hers, and it–doesn’t slip. 

Tucker–blinks. 

Wait. What–? 

Then Dani’s intangibility phases Superboy, and they both fall straight down. Dani shrieks and Superboy yells, and they both disappear through the steps as Danny throws himself after them. Jazz is already whipping back around to barrel down the stairs, the epi-pen full of Ecto-Dejecto already clutched in her fist. Tucker runs after her so fast he nearly ends up falling down them face-first, his heart in his throat as he thinks–is Dani destabilizing again or was that just a flicker, is she already melting, is she already melted, is she– 

And he thinks, in a more pragmatic and matter-of-fact and genre-savvy part of his brain: how the frick did Superboy catch Dani’s hand? 

He also has some really complicated and unnecessary feelings about how Superboy didn’t let go of Dani’s hand when she phased him out and dragged him down with her. Like–that is standard superhero shit, Tucker reminds himself. Like–yeah. That’s standard. Fully normal and typical. 

But he’s definitely still having some weird feelings about watching the guy go right through the stairs with Dani without knowing jack shit about what was happening and not even hesitating. 

Okay, well . . . at least he picked a real ride-or-die type for this, Tucker guesses.

[aflockofravens]

Okay, dick jokes aside I wanna talk about the consent and power dynamics in this scene.

Spoilers under the cut

When Maomao pushes too far in trying to avoid whatever Jinshi is trying to tell her, she lands a few low blows that clearly irk Jinshi. She even mentions it later, after Lihaku finds them and Jinshi is upset with her, that he takes pride in his appearance and that maybe she had gone too far when she insulted his frog.

Despite how gently he lays her down before asking her if he should just show her, Jinshi's reaction here is purely based on ego and pride. It's not the lovelorn fingertips to Maomao's lips we saw after he let her leave the Rear Palace, or the way he held her when he carried her out of the temple after she saved his life.

This reaction isn't a cute, dark fantasy morally grey male character pinning the female heroine against a wall before kissing her, either. This reaction is frustration at Maomao dismissing him and his feelings and the important thing he's trying to tell her AND insulting his (literal) manhood on top of it. This reaction is Jinshi disregarding Maomao's words and very clear body language and touching her without permission, violating her personal space, and almost kissing her in a very compromising position while alone. This sort of situation can - and has - ruined many other female characters' reputations, even before you take into consideration that 1) Jinshi is technically her employer and 2) he's the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom.

The power dynamic is already skewed before you take those last two points into consideration, a fact that Maomao is VERY much aware of, and has mentioned - directly or indirectly - many times before.

And listen. I am a JinMao truther, I ship them so hard you guys, but I am so glad that the kiss was interrupted because this was not the way their first kiss should have gone. Maomao wasn't fighting back or saying No because she couldn't. She believes it genuinely dangerous to do so. She might have let Jinshi do whatever he wanted to her, because to object might mean her execution.

It's not a healthy start to any relationship. And it certainly isn't cute or romantic. And while I don't believe that Jinshi was malicious in his intent, he still has a long way to go before he understands the double standards that he and Maomao are each held to, and that he can't just do whatever he wants whenever he wants.

Additionally, EVEN IF Maomao did return Jinshi's feelings (she doesn't) and EVEN IF there wasn't this insane power imbalance (again, boss and literal prince), say it with me folks:

IF IT ISN'T ENTHUSIASTIC, IT ISN'T CONSENT.

I want to see JinMao happen as badly as anyone else but not at the expense of Maomao's comfort or bodily autonomy.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Jade Leech - Nightmare Suit Vignette

"Oh my, this is a grave situation"

[Halloween Town – Gate]

Jade: Well, Jack-san tasked us to look into how the Halloween preparations were faring…

???: ――HUH!? You were assigned to make sweets, right? Why are you making clothes!?

Malleus: It seems that trouble is already brewing.

Jade: Oh, my… Malleus-san, we should go see what is happening.

[Halloween Town – Center]

Jade: Mr. Mayor, everyone, it seems like you're in a bit of a pickle…

Mayor: Ah, Jade-kun, Malleus-kun!

Mayor: So, it seems like the instructions weren't clear, so it's causing some delays in preparations…

Mayor: For example, the person in charge of making the "sweets" misheard and started making "suits"…

Mayor: Or, the person making the decorations painted the orange parts black… There are all sorts of trouble here and there…

Malleus: I see. And this was only discovered after speaking with the townsfolk about it.

Jade: This Halloween has many new aspects to work with. I did expect for these sorts of incidents to crop up…

Jade: However, this may take much longer than I thought it would to bring everything back in line.

Mayor: EHH!!? A-A-Are you saying we're in a really bad pinch…?

Jade: Not to worry, we should still be able to recover from this.

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

Mayor: Whew…! Thank goodness～

Jade: …......

Jade: Ah, but…

[Mayor's face changes to sad]

Mayor: EH, WH-WH-WH-WHAT!?

Jade: Ah, no, it's nothing.

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

Mayor: Oh, good～ You scared me for a second.

Jade: Oh, but the time we have remaining is a little worrisome…

[Mayor's face changes to sad]

Mayor: W-WORRISOME!?

Jade: Malleus-san, how much time do we have left to finish preparations?

Malleus: I would say approximately 30 hours.

Jade: Eh!! Oh, this is no good… I cannot believe we "ONLY" have that much time left…

Mayor: S-S-S-So we're really in for it now…

Mayor: SOOOOB! WE WON'T MAKE IT IN TIME FOR HALLOWEEEEEEEN～!

Jade: Oh, my, did my thoughtless comment cause such a tragic look to appear upon your face? …My sincerest apologies.

Jade: There's no need to cry. I'm sure if we work together, we'll be able to pull through.

Malleus: If the preparations aren't completed in time, we would also be at fault for being the ones who spearheaded these plans. We shall lend a hand.

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

Mayor: Eh, y-you'll help me? Thank you, both of you!!

Mayor: I was just about to go speak with each person in town about their individual instructions one by one, just like Jack said to.

Mayor: Will you two join me?

Malleus: Yes, I don't mind at all.

Jade: Neither do I. Let us work together to solve this crisis.

[Mayor leaves]

Malleus: …Leech, you sure seem to always enthusiastically offer to lend a hand.

Jade: Oh, is that how it seems to you, Malleus-san?

Malleus: Heh… Well, I suppose I shouldn't interfere with your affairs. Do as you wish.

[Halloween Town – Alleyway]

[Mayor's face changes to sad]

Mayor: No, no! This musical score doesn't match the current Halloween theme.

Mayor: Goodness me, if you're going to go through the effort to jump out of hiding to scare me when I've come all this way, the least you can do it make sure the music is correct!

Malleus: Hm… It seems as though the musicians were practicing music that we had not planned for.

Jade: This means they will need to start practicing new music starting now.

Jade: Will they even possibly finish in time? I am starting to feel anxious as to whether everything will be perfect for Halloween Day…

Mayor: EEEHHH!!!!

Jade: …Is what I originally thought.

Jade: However, when we passed by the musicians earlier, their musical talent was absolutely superb. I'm sure everything will be fine.

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

Mayor: Y-Yes! Whew, that scared me～ Time to pull ourselves together and head off to the next person!

[Halloween Town – Town Hall]

Halloween Town Resident: Look, Mayor! Don'tcha think this candy wrapper looks good?

Mayor: Oooh…! It looks so fancy! It's perfect for this year's Halloween.

Mayor: I was worried about what to do, since there's been so many problems left and right, but it looks like you guys here are on track!

Malleus: Hm? There's smoke coming from the wrapper.

Jade: Well, that is serious. We should look inside quickly.

Jade: …Hm, it seems it's been made with ingredients foreign to the recipe. This is an utter failure and cannot be consumed.

[Mayor's face changes to sad]

Mayor/Halloween Town Resident: EEEEHHHH!!!?

Jade: Oh my, this is a grave situation. Candy is an absolute must for this Halloween…

Jade: If we cannot eat candy, it will immediately bring down this town's wonderful atmosphere…

Jade: All our expectations for a fun and enjoyable Halloween would come to naught…

Mayor: AAAAH, THIS IS TERRIBLE! IT'S ALL OVERRRRR～～!!

Jade: …And, so that does not happen, I shall lend a hand here.

Jade: Fortunately, I've made this candy before, so I should be able to pick it right up.

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

Mayor: Really!? You're a lifesaver, Jade-kun～!

[Halloween Town – Gate]

[Mayor's face changes to sad]

Jade: We've been able to get many of the town's residents back on track… But it seems that confusion is still running rampant.

Mayor: Urgh, I give up. There's no way a Halloween with this many problems during the planning phase would be able to succeed…

Mayor: I'm going to quit being mayor! Who cares what happens with Halloween!?

Mayor: Jade-kun! While we were making our rounds with everyone, you were very helpful in lending a hand.

Mayor: So, please, become Mayor from this moment on and lead everyone into prosperity. Well then, goodbye…

[Mayor leaves]

Jade: Eh, Mr. Mayor? Just wait a moment, are you truly resigning your position!?

Malleus: …There he goes. He was in such a state of despair that he could not even hear our voices.

Jade: Well… I wasn't expecting him to designate me mayor… A pleasant incident like this rarely comes around twice!

Jade: As such, perhaps I could take this opportunity to craft some new rules and regulations. Do you have any thoughts, Malleus-san?

Malleus: You shouldn't take the joke too far, Leech.

Jade: Fufu, my apologies. It seems I got a little carried away.

Jade: Well now, time to get back to business… We should go and bring him back.

[Graveyard Gate]

Jade: Just where has he gone, I wonder…?

Malleus: …Hm? Leech, I've found him. He's sitting down behind that grave over there.

Jade: Ah, you're right. ―Mr. Mayor!

Mayor: Eh…? Jade-kun, Malleus-kun, why are you here?

Jade: Well, of course, we came for you.

Mayor: I-I won't go back. I don't care about Halloween anymore…

Jade: Are you feeling liable for the fact that the preparations aren't going as planned?

Jade: There's no need for you to fret over this, Mr. Mayor. Please, stand up.

Malleus: Indeed. Just as Leech said, this Halloween has many new aspects for the citizens of this town.

Malleus: It would be no surprise that everyone is confused.

Mayor: You two…

Jade: In addition, the folks of this town tend to hide themselves away in difficult to find places.

Jade: If we were to search for them on our own, it would be monumentally difficult. However, you were able to successfully find your way to every resident.

Jade: That is something that cannot be done without interacting with them on a daily basis. You are a fantastic mayor.

Jade: Please, give us your strength. If we were to make our rounds around the town just by ourselves, we would definitely not meet the deadline.

Mayor: U-Urgh… If you say it like that…

[Mayor's face changes to glad]

Mayor: Uweeeeeh!! Thank you guyssss～～～!! I'll give it my best shot once more!

Jade: I'm pleased you're feeling up to the task again.

Jade: This Halloween is wondrous only because you are a part of it.

Malleus: However, it would be a rather large burden on the mayor to continue to reach out to each towns member individually as we have been doing.

Malleus: Should we not work out a different plan of attack?

Jade: Actually, I did think of a different method to go about things as we were doing our rounds… Would you be willing to listen to my proposal?

Mayor: Of course, let me hear it!

Jade: Now then, I shall explain. First, we should make it so that everyone can see the lists of tasks at any moment.

Jade: Presently, there is a document that lists out what each person should do, but it is only in the hands of Mr. Mayor, here.

Jade: Each of the townsfolk are then given their tasks verbally.

Jade: Then, depending on the memory of each person, the tasks could become inconsistent with what was originally assigned.

Malleus: I see. It does seem to be as you say, Leech.

Mayor: Eh, eh? I-I don't really understand… What do you mean?

Jade: Ah, my apologies. That may have been a little bit of a roundabout explanation. In conclusion…

Jade: What if we were to write down each person's roles and instructions and hand it out to everyone?

Jade: This way, all we would need to do is gather everyone in one place and hand it out. This would save us the trouble of visiting each person individually.

Mayor: But it might take a while to get all the paper ready to hand out to everyone, so maybe we should keep going like we've been doing…

Jade: If you are speaking of how to disseminate the instructions, please, don't fret. Mr. Mayor, may I please see your administrative tablet?

Mayor: Y-Yeah, here you go.

Jade: I'll do this here, then like this… Finally, this needs to be cut up to hand out… There.

Jade: I've finished.

Mayor: EH, ALREADY!?

Malleus: That was skillfully quick.

Jade: Fufu, I find myself tasked with such duties often, so I'm quite used to it.

Mayor: TH-THIS IS AMAZING, JADE-KUN～～～!!

Mayor: We need to call everyone to the Town Hall as quickly as possible! Just wait right here, I'll go grab the car!

Mayor: Town meeting! It's a town meeting!

Jade: We'll be holding a town meeting now. Everyone, please come to the town hall!

Jade: Fufu… I was hoping I would get to ride this car. How fortunate that the opportunity fell into my lap.

[Halloween Town – Center]

Mayor: Alright, that should be enough announcing. I'll head off to the town hall to give everyone their instructions.

Mayor: So then, to the two of you, I say… Thank you so much!

[Mayor leaves]

Jade: This should decrease the amount of confusion during preparations now.

Malleus: I suppose you're quite satisfied, Leech.

Jade: Well, yes, as we were able to successfully complete the task given to us.

Malleus: I speak not of the task. Of course, I am speaking of how you were able to draw out the Mayor's "hidden face" just with some cleverly spoken words.

Jade: Ah… I suppose it's no surprise that you noticed.

Jade: And yet, despite that, you did not stop me… I'm sure you were having your own fun as well, Malleus-san.

Malleus: Well, who could say?

Jade: Heh… At any rate, Halloween Town is truly an enjoyable place.

Jade: Whatever could happen next…? I find myself giddy with anticipation, as I cannot possibly predict anything.

Requested by @thelonepearl.

[transparent-peach]

Hey loves! Hope you’re all having a great morning/day/night. Okay so here we go again. I can't put down my phone when it comes to writing so let's go. Yeah i kinda went deep into writing and i am glad i did. Hope you’re all feeling the same! Today i bring you another one with our man James.

warnings: smut, bit of ch0king, curse words, alcohol, tobacco products

James McAvoy x Reader <3

it is a bit long, hope you don’t mind it!

(more than 3k words)

Drunk In Love

Luckily you were invited for the after party of the premiere of Split, since you worked with the crew. You are a set designer. You were a bit nervous to be in the same exact room with the whole crew of move Split. It was sweet to remember all the actors from the set of the movie, and how much they were so different. Especially James. He seemed to be very enthusiastic about his job. You looked up to him because of this.

———————————

I was anxiously fidgeting with my empty hand since the other was full of with a glass of expensive champagne. I was wearing a nice black dress with red bottomed high heels. My necklace sparkled in the yellowish light as i walked past the actors. I sat down to the table that had my name tag on it.

"How are you my beautiful Y/N?"

My smile grew bigger as i looked at Elizabeth, my coworker. She was my favourite woman in the whole set. Eliza was in her fifties but if i didn't know, i wouldn't tell.

"Kinda nervous. You know i get nervous when i smell too much millionaires."

I joked around as i took a sip from the champagne.

"It is okay, darling. May you join me for another one?"

She raised her glass up a bit so i could see it. It was empty. I nodded.

We went for drinks and I knew that if someone recognise her we must have to stop and have a chat. It happened that way. She was a very talented designer so she gained some fame along the way.

"Enjoying the gathering?"

A man came up to her and stroked her arm.

"Yes James, thank you. You were amazing in the movie dear. I knew yellow was your colour. Especially when you were half naked. Not so unfortunately that happened many times. We liked it, didn’t we, Y/N?" She let put a small laugh as she was toying around with me, poking the side of my torso. I smiled, tried to hold back my laughter, looking down to my shoes. "Are you enjoying this shitshow?"

She winked. She was a very charming woman and she had huge confidence in her hands. One more thing about her. Her husband was the director.

"Yeah, kinda enjoy it, yes. And you, Ms.?"

He was basically asking for my name as he turned to me.

"Yes Mr. McAvoy."

I held out my hand.

"Y/N Y/L/N."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, i think we have met before..." He held it, instead of shaking it he gave a short kiss to my hand.

"Okay kids, i will go enjoy my drink from a nice distance. Get to know each other."

And i haven't mentioned... She read people like books.

"Yes, we met before. I was the woman who rushed back and forth with the props. I think i helped Elizabeth with your clothes when you played… Hedwig i guess."

"Yes! I remember now. Sorry, there was so many things happening on the set."

He scratched his head and smiled a bit awkwardly because of the fact he forgot me.

"It's okay, Mr. McAvoy. I'm not that recognisable and memorable human being."I smiled at him as he shook his head.

"No it's nothing like that. You are an amazing artist, love. You know... Fuck it let's have a drink. It would be a pleasure if you join me for a cigarette too."He looked at me with questioning what i want.

"A scotch please." I searched for the pack of cigarettes in my purse. As i came to realisation i don't have it in there i just took the glass of bourbon.

"Am i not scotch enough for the lady?" He joked around as he opened the back door for me.

"Trust me, you are scotch enough." I laughed softly at his comment. He gave me a cigarette, and he took one out for himself too.

"I'm not a big smoker, i just do it occasionally." He started to explain it to me like i was a parent of his.

"Okay, Mr. McAvoy, i deeply understand you at this point, thank you." I joked around with him until he lightened my cig.

"Call me James, sweetheart. I like it when women are saying my name like that, but i guess it is just a weird kink of mine." He looked me in the eyes and we remained serious for a couple of seconds before he burst out laughing at the same time as i did. After the fifth glass of whiskey i was having a really great time. I let myself go with his flow, i took all of his dirty jokes very well. When i shot back with an even dirtier one, i enjoyed watching his eyes grow wider. It was always the mixture of surprise and amusement on his face. I thought he was as unpleasant as the other millionaires i have ever met but it was a a pleasant surprise that James had more up his sleeves than other people. It was like two totally freak laughing their ass of in the first step in a concrete stair. He was charming, he made me blush a lot. But i never let him know that i enjoy him doing that. It was my body that told him. And his body told me some things too.

"Well, James. I must say i had a great time with you, but i guess it's time for me to go." He gave a small, bitter laugh before he refuted me. He was admiring me. His eyes was scanning the whole body of mine. I stood up, his eyes were following my silhouette and he copied my activity.

"Where do you want to go love?" He placed two fingers under my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. His fascinating ice cold blue eyes.

"Well, i don't see a ring on your finger." I said with a smile, completely ignoring his question.

"No ring. Yet." He took a step closer, closing the gap between us, and placing his hands on my sides, gently pressing me against the cold wall of the building behind me. He leaned in, his breath brushing against the shell of my ear, whispering.

"If you want to enjoy my company for the rest of the night, i had to make sure." I looked into his dreamy eyes as it darkened under the weak lighting. He was breathtaking in that suit. He let his hands rest on my hips as he let out a small chuckle at my statement. His fingers curled into the fabric of my skirt.

"And now, that you know that I am very much single..." His gaze grew more intense as it traveled down my body to the hem of my skirt, his eyes lingering there for a moment before looking back up.

He gave me a passionate kiss, as i leaned closer to his body.

"Yeah, James. You may take me home."

His arms tightened around my body and a sly smile played upon his lips as our kiss deepened. In that moment, James could scarcely believe his luck meeting such a beautiful, captivating woman, who was all too willing to leave the boring party with him. He pulled back slightly and met my gaze, his voice dropping to a lower register.

"Let's go, darling."

I totally forgot about how drunk we were, but he had a private driver anyway. We quickly and inconspicuously got into his black Mercedes and he told the driver to take us home. He couldn't keep his hands to himself. The whole ride was overheated with sexual tension between James and me.

We arrived at his place, actually, that was more like a palace. He opened the door for me, and turned the lights on before he suddenly got on my lips.

He couldn't get enough of me. His hands roamed over my body as if they had a mind of their own, desperate to feel every inch of my soft skin. He leaned in close, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of my neck, whispering breathless words against my skin.

"You're addicting as fuck."

At this point i couldn't decide if he was speaking from his mind, his heart or his erection. Or this was all about the big amount of alcohol in his system. "You can't complain either."

"If i remember correctly... I never did."

'What a sassy bastard. I think i like him.'

He lead me to the bedroom of his, unzipping my dress while he was stealing kisses from me. His eyes darkened with desire. It didn't take long to reach a bedroom, his mouth never leaving me for a moment. He took my dress of, as his eyes filled with lust and admiration. I began to unbutton his shirt, and the moment i took it off of him, i nearly gasped in ecstasy. He pushed me gently onto the bed, his body hovering over mine as his hands began to explore the curves underneath him. His fingers danced across my skin, sending shivers down my spine as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He chuckled softly, the vibration of his laughter tickling my stomach. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear. I felt his hardness pressing against me, I couldn't help but pulled him closer.He's got a wicked grin on his face, eyes locked onto mine. His fingers brush against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"Ah, you're gettin' bold, lady." he whispers in that smooth Scottish accent of his.

He leans in close, lips inches from mine.

"I want you."

I whispered to his lips, as i caressed his naked upper body. He took off his pants and tossed it to somewhere in the room. He leaned closer for a kiss and i pulled over a bit. I was teasing him so hard, he almost lost his mind. He chuckles, a low, husky sound, and his eyes flash with desire.

"Oh, you're a wicked one, aren't you?"

He leans in closer still, his breath hot against my skin as he whispers.

"I've got just the thing for a ladies like you."

His hand slides down to cup my sex through my clothes, his fingers tracing the outline of me through the fabric.

"God damn, James."

I let out a small moan. He went lower than i expected, slowly pulled down my red panties. I slide fingers through his hair as he left kisses on my stomach. He looks up at me, his eyes burning with intensity, as he continues to leave a trail of kisses down my stomach.

"Ah, you are so bloody beautiful," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. His fingers slide further down, parting my folds and finding the source of my pleasure. I feel his tongue playing with my clit. He found just the right spots in and out for me to almost lose my mind. I was moaning in pleasure as the scottish went down on me. He looked me into the eyes and i saw a little egotistical smile on his face. I felt everything at once, and it was magical. He's got a wicked glint in his eye, and he's clearly loving every second of this.

"Ah, you're so responsive, Y/N" he whispers, his voice muffled by my flesh. He continues to lick and suck me with renewed intensity, sending me spiraling into a vortex of pleasure. He suddenly got up and i almost lost my shit. I looked up to him in absolute disbelief. He let out a charming chuckle as he got back to kissing my lips. I felt his hardened cock against my womanly part, made me blush.

"Look at you."

I wiped off my remains from his beard and pulled him back to my lips. He lifted up his head as he pressed two of his fingers inside of my mouth. I was soaking wet already, but when he ran his fingers covered my own saliva along my pussy, i moaned for him. He was doing something right and i felt my heart racing. He grins down at me, clearly enjoying the effect he's having on me.

"You are so fuckin' hot when you moan for me like that." he growls. He positions himself between my legs, the head of his cock teasing my entrance.

"Tell me how badly you want it" he demands, his voice low and commanding.

"So bad. I want it so bad James."

I licked my lips and ran my fingers through his beautiful brownish hair. He sent shivers down my spine as he slipped his cock inside. I felt every inch pounding inside of me. We both moaned as he buried his head into the meeting of my shoulders and my neck. I couldn't take my eyes off of his veiny arms which had attractively tense muscles. He's got his eyes closed, lost in the moment, as he starts to pump into me with a slow, deliberate rhythm.

"Ah, you are so tight" he whispers against my skin. His hips flex and release, sending waves of pleasure through my body.

"Look at me." he growls, his voice low and husky. He opens his eyes and meets mine, our gazes locked in a fierce connection. He keeps pounding me. The rough kisses and the excellent work of his waist pushed me to my edges. I deepened my red nails into the skin of his back, making him moan. My legs started shaking and my back arched for him, just for him to make faster moves and bite my shoulder. I was looking at him with playfulness in my eyes, as i took a deep breath. After catching my breath from the lack of oxygen, i turned the situation around. I was straddling him and looked deeply into his eyes. He was sweating, his lips were wet and a bit apart from each other. He was catching his breath too. But i couldn't let him as i sit comfortably onto his cock. He's got a look of pure lust on his face, and he's clearly struggling to keep himself in check as I start to move on top of him.

"Fuck." he groans, his hands gripping my hips tightly. He looks up at me with those intense eyes of his, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You are so fuckin' hot like this." he growls. His fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as I continue to ride him, slowly building towards our shared climax.

"Yes, James!"

I let out a loud scream as i looked up to the ceiling. His hand was on my throat, grabbing it just right.

"Or should i call you Mr. McAvoy now? "

I slowed down and lead closer to him. Our lips were inches away. I loved teasing him. He chuckles darkly, the sound sending vibrations through my core.

"I think you can call me whatever you like," he purrs. His hand slides from my throat to cup my face, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. "You are in control here, sweetheart " he whispers. But even as he says this, his hips are starting to buck up into me again, a telltale sign of how close we both are. I leaned toward him to invite him to a playful, passionate kiss. I started to ride him faster and i placed my hands on his chest. I almost cried out loud when he hit my most precious spot inside of me. I felt his hand tightened around my neck, made me feel hornier than ever.

"Oh god, James! Oh god..." I shut my eyes in pleasure, moving my hips a little slowly. He's got a triumphant grin on his face, and he's clearly loving the fact that he's got me right where he wants me.

"Ah, you are so close." he whispers against my ear. His hand tightens around my neck just a little more, and I can feel his cock pulsing inside of me as he starts to come. "Open yer eyes," he growls. I do as I'm told, meeting his gaze with mine as we both reach our climax together. He chuckles, a low rumble that vibrates through his chest. I got back to bed. Lying next to him was a dream. I placed my head on his chest and felt my heart pounding like crazy. He caressed my head as i drew little circles on his abs with the tip of my fingers. I felt his heart too. It was beating fast, but then again so calming. Feeling the temperature of his body, his breath was getting back to normal.

"I guess i haven't really had the opportunity to say i like your accent." I said with a calm tone. I still couldn't raise my head up.

"Ah, you're a wee bit of a charmer, aren't you? You could've just say it while i was inside of you." He laughed at his own joke, made me chuckle. His hand continues to caress my head, and I can feel his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my scalp.

"I'm glad you like my accent," he says, his voice warm and husky. He pauses for a moment before continuing. "I've always thought it was one of my best features."

"Yeah. It is one of the best feature of yours. There's another one that i cannot say now."

I playfully let out a small chuckle and finally looked up to him. I couldn't help but started to think about this time we spent together. It wasn't that long but i enjoyed every second with him. He made me feel comfortable and happy. It made me kinda unpleasant to think it was just another one night stand. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Ah, I think you're getting a wee bit too comfortable with me, love." he says, his voice low and teasing. His hand slides up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw.

"But don't worry about it being just another one-night stand," he whispers. His gaze is intense and serious for a moment before softening into a warm smile.

"I've got plans for you."

"Is that a problem? Me being comfortable with you?" I playfully raised an eyebrow. "I guess we were more than a bit comfortable with each other."

He chuckles, a low and husky sound. "Aye, we were more than comfortable with each other" he agrees. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. "Problem? No, not at all," he says. His hand slides down to wrap around my waist, pulling me closer to him. "I rather like it."

"I like you. " I gently put a kiss on his lips, and take a deep breath.  "Crazy scottish."

He laughs, a warm and happy sound.

"Ah, you're a wee bit crazy yourself" he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement. His lips curve into a smile as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close.

"I like you too" he whispers against my ear.

[l3tm31nn0w]

At His Mercy

Mr. Reed (Heretic) x fem reader

You’re a PhD theology student wasting time at religious convention, bored out of your mind until you meet a charismatic older man who shares your interest in religion and blasphemy.

Warnings: p in v sex, religious trauma, age gap (reader is of age, nearly 30), degradation, oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation, wax play, religion used in an erotic way

(I have never written fanfic in my LIFE that’s how down bad I am for this man, forgive me if this is a mess lol)

You walked up to the mediocre coffee station for the third time that morning, preparing to stay awake through another dull lecture. It was day two of the Colorado Theology Conference and you had lost patience halfway through day one. You had hoped for more academic and agnostic speakers, but so far you’d heard nothing but actual Christian pastors and priests rambling on about the state of modern religion. For Christ sakes the keynote speaker was a goddamn prosperity preacher! You had to stay as long as could to please the big wigs at the university, each program had to send a PhD candidate for “professional development” and this was all they could find for religious studies. Lucky you.

As you poured the burnt coffee into your already stained styrofoam cup you glanced around the table trying to spot the little creamer cups to no avail. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You said under your breath, clearly louder than intended. “Well there’s always sugar!” You whipped your head to the direction of the voice, fearing youd get scolded by some pastor for daring to curse. The voice, a posh British accent that felt out of place in this cursed convention center, belonged to a middle aged man. He had a kind smile that reached his blue eyes effortlessly. He produced three small sugar packets and handed them to you. “I wish I could drink it black but I can’t handle the bitterness.” He chuckled as you mixed the packets into your cup. You smiled back at him and squinted to read his name tag, delighted that pastor was missing from his name. “Thank you Mr. Reed, I’m just glad to see a man that’s not a preacher in this room.”

His eyes traveled across your body and you almost called him out but he spoke before you could say anything. “I take it you’re not a woman of the cloth yourself, I hate to judge a book by its cover but I doubt many Christian churches would want that on display.” He pointed to the tattoo on your sternum. You giggled and relaxed, realizing he hadn’t been in ogling you, he’d simply been looking at your tattoo. He was the first person this weekend to look at it and smile, most had sneered at you once they realized what it depicted, not that any of them really knew beyond thinking it was a demon. “I know it’s not a good look for an old man like myself to be staring at a young ladies chest, but indulge me” his posh voice lowered with the last words and you felt yourself growing unexpectedly warm. “That fellow there” he said point towards collarbone “is Asmodeus, yes?” You looked up at him, realizing how handsome he really was up close. He had a classic attractiveness to him that no doubt made him popular when he was younger, but there was a bookish innocence to him even at his older age that drew you in. His instant recognition of the demon on your chest must’ve made you visibly light up because he beamed a smile right back at you. “You’re the first person to actually know who he is this entire weekend! I’ve gotten lots of comments but I’m sure you can imagine they were less than kind based on the crowd we have here.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded, enthusiastically agreeing with you about the overly zealous convention goers.

Relieved to have met someone with a more academic background you blurted out “I’m Y/N! Please sit with me during the next lecture? I think I’ll die if I’m stuck sitting between anymore church moms or worship leaders.” He smiled again, making the crows feet surrounding his blue eyes wrinkle up. “Absolutely Y/N, but only if we can sit in the back and whisper nasty jokes about whatever nonsense is being said on stage.” You laughed, a genuine laugh, and began walking towards the ballroom where the next lecture was taking place.

“So what brings you here Mr. Reed? You must be an academic if you’re not a Bible thumper like all these people. Forgive me for judging a book by its cover as well, but you must be a professor?” He certainly looked like one with autumnal colored cardigan, grey slacks and large clear rimmed glasses. “Oh goodness no, you flatter me! I’m just an old man with an interest in religion. I’ve been studying it for decades at this point. I’ve been to quite a few of these things, but usually they’re filled with academics not religious nuts. I think this one was advertised a bit incorrectly. I’m guessing you’re on your way to being a professor though?” He quiered back at you. “Yes, I’m getting my PhD in religious studies. I’ve been into religion as long as I can remember as well, I guess not as long as you. Oh god sorry that was rude!” You blushed a bright red realizing you’d called Mr. Reed old. He simply laughed and said “Darling don’t apologize for having eyes, I’ve clearly got a few decades on you! You must be what? 30 at most?” The blush from early only deepened at the pet name. Attempting to gain composure you coughed and replied “30 in April!” “Trust me, I’m ancient history compared to you.”

The two of you settled into the back row of the ballroom and you nodded toward the speaker, a Baptist minister who looked like he’d been alive during the crucifixion. You lowered your voice to a whisper “well not as ancient as HIM.” Mr. Reed stifled his laughter, a challenge you both attempted and mostly failed as you whispered back and forth for the next hour.

After the lecture the two of you slinked out the back worried you’d get a talking to for being too loud during the lecture. You looked at the paper schedule from your pocket and sighed “the damn keynote is next. I don’t think I can handle that grifter.” Mr. Reed grimaced in agreement. He looked down at his watch and then up at you. “Would you allow me to take you lunch darling?” There was the pet name again and with it came a flush in your cheeks. You chewed your lip, deliberating it. You were supposed to sit through the scheduled lectures and bring back notes for your thesis team, a way to prove the university’s investment in professional development wasn’t wasted even though it most certainly was in this instance. You looked up at Mr. Reed, studying his expression. You wanted to know more about this mysterious religious enthusiast full of dirty jokes who got excited by demons. Surely he had stories that would be more impactful than that prosperity preacher! You lied to yourself saying it was purely academic when in reality the heat pooling in your stomach was getting hard to ignore. You’d always fancied older men, but until now it was always talk. Always a day dream. Here was a handsome older gentleman who had a lot in common with you who was seemingly flirting without being creepy. You couldn’t let this chance pass. “It would be my pleasure! Let’s get out of here.” Your new companion’s face lit up and he guided you out the door of the convention hall. “Don’t laugh at how cliche this is, but there’s a rather good English pub down the road how does that sound?” You tightened your scarf around your face and nodded, a slight giggle escaping at that suggestion coming from the posh accent.

After a couple of blocks you’d reached your destination and settled into a booth at the back of the dark, cozy pub. “Can I ask a personal question that may be slightly uncomfortable?” Mr. Reed posited. You were becoming slightly infatuated and really had nothing to lose at this point. “I’m an open book, ask away!” “What is your reasoning for getting our good friend asmodeus etched upon your lovely collarbone? I know you’re far too smart for the standard answer of “he looks neat.”” You knew this would be coming the second he had recognized the demon on your chest. If you were going here, you wanted to play with him a little. “Well Mr. Reed, I can answer that, but first I need you to tell me what you know about Asmodeus.” Your older companion smiled at you dangerously and began, “Well, he’s present in all the abrahamic religions, usually as a demon king. He’s closely associated with the Angel Raphael. And, forgive me for being so crass, I hope this last reason may have motivated your tattoo: in the late Middle Ages the Malleus Maleficarum posited that he was the demon of lust.” His final word went straight to your core. You were almost dizzy from the rush of endorphins hitting you, sure it was hot that was boldly and blatantly flirting with you, but his knowledge of all the things that interested you the most may have been even sexier to you. You smiled coyly. “It’s your lucky day then Mr. Reed. His association with lust was absolutely the motivating factor.” He grinned at you and gave a look suggesting he wanted you to elaborate. “I was raised Catholic. My parents were all about it, we were constantly volunteering at the church. So at one point in high school me and this friend, Gabe, are put in charge of cleaning out the sensors. One day I walk in and see the parish priest trying to put a move on Gabe and I put myself between them. I tell the creep I’m running straight to the diocese and to my parents to get his ass fired. Well by the time I get home my mother is SCREAMING at me calling me a whore of Babylon, a jezebel. My father won’t look me in the eye. Turns out the creep priest had called my house and told my mom he caught me and Gabe fornicating in the church office and that Gabe told him I let all the other high school altar boys take turns with me. Obviously none of it was true, I was a virgin and Gabe was in the closet, which father creep knew and probably used to get Gabe to fall into line with his story. For the rest of high school I was the Catholic school slut and that came with all the cat calling and groping you can imagine. You’d think that would break my spirits when it came to religion, but it had been with me so long I couldn’t let it go. I didn’t believe the way my family did, but the stories, the imagery it all meant so much to me. So I fuck off at 18 and go to college in a different state for theology. Turns out I’m good at it. I graduate with honors. I get into a top choice masters program. I graduate from that program with honors. I know I’m hot shit and I feel like I’m hot shit and that I’ve come a long long way from being the Catholic school slut so I find the perfect image of Asmodeus and get him smack dab in the middle of my slut chest. Because he’s more than lust, he’s power, he’s danger. It’s a shame though, I spent so much time with my head in a book I never got to live up to my alleged Catholic slut persona.”

The second you finish your story your confidence falters and you feel your cheeks flush. You cannot believe you just shared all that with this man you’ve only known for a few hours. Mr. Reed broke the silence by quietly saying “You’re extraordinary.” You could tell he was being sincere and it made your heart beat faster. If he kept this up your old reputation may come true. “Well now you know my edgy religious trauma backstory, let’s hear yours!” He chuckled. “Well I can’t say I was ever accused of being the town harlot, though I don’t think I’d fit that part visually anyway.” You rolled your eyes at him, sick of his subtle self deprecation. He had to know he was handsome. Sure, he was old enough to be your father, but his age suited his features. The lines around his mouth and eyes came to life when he smiled. His greying hair was touseled in that messily attractive sort of way. The large glasses that sat in his face added to the sexy professor vibe he gave off. “Honestly I’ve got no tragic backstory. I’ve just craved the connection to a higher power since as long as I can remember. I wasn’t raised religious so as soon as I could read I started searching for the one true god. There’s so many religions is exhausting. Each of them have their own special qualities, but there was always something that let me down. I learned literally as much as I could. I’ve collected so many books and artifacts that my house looks like a damned theology museum. Then I found it. After my years and years and years of searching. I found the one true religion, the one true god.” He said those final words very seriously which contrasted greatly with his general quirky demeanor. You let out a little gasp. “So you’re not agnostic or an atheist then? I just assumed the way we were talking with each other you were agnostic like me!” “I was the picture of agnosticism for many many years. I don’t know what my discovery makes me. There’s no way to describe it.” Ok, now you were a little nervous. Was the handsome academic before you secretly a cult freak? He clearly sensed your discomfort and lightened the mood. “Enough of that though, you’re not some religious nut who needs to be convinced. I respect a solid agnostic. It’s good to be open to anything.” You smiled back at him, feeling just a bit more at ease.

You continued to chat about yourselves and various religious facts and oddities as you ate. Eventually you exited the restaurant and realized how long you’d been lost in conversation. The sun had begun to set and you weren’t quite ready to leave your new companion. His assertion of knowing the one true religion wouldn’t leave your mind. An old building across the road caught your eye. You looked over to Mr. Reed, his nose starting to flush pink with the cold. “Humor me?” You said as you stuck your gloved hand out to him. He smiled and placed his much larger hand in yours. You pulled him across the road and into the old stone building, a rundown yet still beautiful Catholic Church.

Despite your distaste for your family and your upbringing, you always felt a warmth and a comfort inside a Catholic Church. This one was small, but still had all the hallmarks of a cathedral: stained glass, wooden carvings of the stations of the cross, a giant crucifix of Christ in all his gory glory dead center of the aisle. You always found that there was a certain blasphemous sensuality in the depictions of Christ. Maybe you weren’t beating the Catholic slut allegations after all.

As you guided Mr. Reed into the church you paused to anoint yourself with holy water, old habits die hard after all. He skipped the water but followed you as you trailed around the church, your eyes on the architecture and decor, his eyes never leaving you. You finally settled into a few towards the front near the donation candles. The two of you were the only occupants and you closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Eyes still closed, you rested your hand on his and whispered “Thank you for seeing me. Nobody has ever seen me the way that you have.” You were met with silence, but his larger hand covered yours. After a continued moment of silence you opened your eyes and turned to him. “Please. What is this one true religion you believe so much in? I have to know. I can’t fathom parting ways and never knowing.” He looked at you very seriously. “Are you sure you want to know?” “Please.” You whispered desperately. “Ok, then close your eyes again.” He said in a hushed tone. You did as you were told and you felt him brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He leaned in close enough that you could feel his lips graze your ear and whispered “Control.”

Your entire body felt as if it was engulfed in flames. You squeezed the hand that still remained in your grasp and your eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hungry. You stared directly at him and said, louder than any of your previous conversation in the church, “Mr. Reed I think I’d like you to take me to see that theology museum you mentioned earlier.” “Of course darling.” In stark contrast to the way you had lazily lead him by his hand into the church, he quickly lead you out with his hand pressed firmly onto the small of your back. The old woman working the volunteer desk shot the two of you a puzzled look, she had no doubt assumed you were father and daughter until she saw the way his hand rested just above your ass.

He whisked you back to the convention hall parking lot and opened his car door for you, ever the gentleman. He had asked if you’d driven to the convention and if you wanted to drive separate, but you had ubered from your modest student housing. The two of you continued to make conversation as you had all evening, Mr. Reed even mentioning specific artifacts he would show you when you arrived at his house. Despite this the sexual tension was thick and heavy in his small sedan. A small part of you was screaming to yourself that this was insane and reckless, going to a second location with a man you just met today. But you had secretly wanted your day to end this way nearly the second you met him. His course whisper of the word control had sent you over the edge. All you do is think and decide and it gets so fucking exhausting. The idea of turning yourself over to him to do with you as he liked was just too good to pass up.

He pulled up to his house and opened up the car door, leading you into his house. You couldn’t help but smile as you walked in. It was adorable. It had the soft welcoming quality of a grandparents house. You wouldn’t dare say this aloud for fear of making him self conscious about his age. “Oh Mr. Reed your house is lovely! It’s so cozy!” You exclaimed. He smiled at you and then noticed you were shivering. “Cup of tea to warm you through?” He asked. You nodded and he disappeared into the kitchen. You settled onto a couch and before long he returned with two cups of tea. As he handed you yours his fingers brushed your hand for an extended moment and it sent shocks through you. Much to your embarrassment he noticed and winked. You drank your tea and continued to talk aimlessly until finally he said “Would you like to see some of my collection?” You nodded enthusiastically. Sure, “seeing his theology museum” was a ploy for him to take you home and fuck you senseless, but you also were dying to see his collection and he knew it.

He grabbed your hand and guided you down a dimly lit hallway into a large office. It was chock full of books, artifacts and paintings. You could’ve lost hours in here. He had things from just about every religion you’d ever heard of, there were probably a ton that you had no clue about. He let you wander around for a moment then retreated into a corner, returning with an intricate crucifix. “I think you’ll love this one, I saw how you looked at the one at the church.” He handed it over to you and you brought it close to your face to inspect the detailed paint job. It was a wooden carving, probably late medieval or early northern renaissance. The paint had faded, but the details of Christ’s wounds still shone a bright red. You rubbed your finger absentmindedly up the naked torso of the figurine and you felt Mr. Reed’s breath on your neck. “I watched you look upon the lord in that church and could tell your thoughts weren’t so holy. Is that your grand rebellion against your upbringing? Fantasizing about fucking Jesus?” You whipped around and faced him, your lips nearly touching. His pale eyes bore into you and for the first time this evening you were genuinely speechless. That serious, almost scathing tone from back at the church had returned. “How many times have you sat up late at night and touched yourself looking at him while you study? Do your droll professors know you’re soaking through your panties when they’re running through their slides?” Your face had to be deep red at this point and he was clearly relishing in your embarrassment. “When was the last time you got fucked y/n?” You looked away from him and that was all the answer he needed. “At what point today did you start imagining me fucking you?” He asked smugly. You thought back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment your thoughts turned to sin. “When you pointed out my tattoo. I thought you were checking me out, but realized you were genuinely curious about the tattoo. You knew what he was.” His eyebrow raised, seemingly pleased and shocked at your answer. “I thought you were handsome from the moment you handed me the sugar packets, I have eyes after all, but your intelligence is what sent a fire through me.”

You felt brave and brought your hands up to his hair, rifling your fingers through his soft greying locks. He closed his eyes and hummed an approval. After you broke the seal by touching him, he finally placed his hands around your waist and pulled you towards him, your chests flushed against each other. Your lips were barely grazing when he whispered

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love;

    behold, you are beautiful;

    your eyes are doves.”

Who was this man? One second he’s degrading you, the next he’s holding you tenderly quoting the Song of Solomon.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the small gap and kissed you. It was a a chaste kiss, perhaps revealing he simply talked a big game and he himself hadn’t had a lover in some time. That was fine by you, there was something alluring about breaking him in. You went in for another kiss, hotter and heavier than his, your hands gripping his scalp, a moan building in the back of your throat. You broke the kiss and began placing kisses across his face and neck, settling in to craft a hickey on his right side. You left his neck with a pop, satisfied by the red mark left behind. You whispered into his ear “and when was the last time you fucked, Mr. Reed?” He brought his hands up to your face, pulling it to look him in the eye. “I must confess darling it’s been quite a minute. Once you reach my age the options slim out. I’m also not one to just stick my cock in whatever makes itself available. You, my dear, are special. And if you’ll let me, I can show you that while it may have been awhile for me, I promise you I’m not out of practice.” You answered him with another kiss. He smiled and released you, causing you to frown at the lack of contact.

“Give me just one second!” He called back to you as he began running around his office. He began putting together what you could only describe as a nest in the middle of the floor laying blankets and pillows around. He grabbed your hand and guided you to the floor. “Now darling, will you let me show you how a man treats a lady? I doubt those piddly little boys you’ve messed around with had a clue how to make your body sing.” His words went straight to your core. The idea of an age gap alone always turned you on, the allure of an experienced, tender older man who knew how to treat a lady. You let him lay you down and said “I’m at your mercy now Mr. Reed.”

He lay next to you and resumed kissing you passionately. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth he began slipping his hand under your sweater. “What a good Catholic slut you are!” He mused, pinching one of your nipples. You rarely ever wore a bra, especially under your thick winter sweaters. You let out a soft moan in response. He massaged your breast further and you stifled another moan. “Darling it’s just us, you can do better than that. “O come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise”” He tweaked your nipple at the end of the quote and you moaned deeply, both at the stimulation and the persevere use of a psalm. He pulled your sweater off leaving your chest bare, the cold air hardening your nipples. He wasted no time taking one into his mouth, licking and sucking while he stimulated the other with his hand. It was all going straight to your core, you needed him to touch you where it mattered.

“Please” you huffed out. He brought his face close to yours and asked “Please what? You’re a big girl use your words.” Your face flushed, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment. You were never one to talk dirty or ask for specifics when you had sex, you always worried it would kill the mood. Deep down you knew this was part of the turn on for him though so you managed to sputter out “Please play with my pussy. I need it, I need it so bad it hurts.” He places a kiss on your forehead and replied “what a good girl using her words. How I could I ever deny you.” Despite the slight condescending tone, the use of “good girl” made you moan. He would remember this.

He brought his hand down to your jeans and rubbed through the thick material. It did practically nothing and you knew this was just another ploy for you to beg him using your words. “Mr. Reed please please touch me bare, please I need your fingers.” He smiled and began sliding your jeans off. He chuckled when he got to your underwear. “Listen I didn’t imagine I’d be getting lucky at the religious convention!” You squeaked out hiding your face. You’d absentmindedly thrown on a pair of boy short style underwear patterned with French fries. “Is it too forward to say suddenly I’m craving a McDonald’s?” You playfully kicked his leg and you both chuckled. “I would never allow a poor old man to starve.” You replied faux dramatically.

As he went to pull down your underwear he exclaimed “my god, am I this powerful? These are sopping wet.” It was true, he’d been turning you on for hours at this point and by the time you’d made it back to his little chapel your underwear was so wet it almost felt like you’d had an accident. “Then do something about it!” You huffed. He pulled the garment down your legs and you were finally laid bare before him. You had no clothes on and he had everything still on, down to the grandpa cardigan. Laid out in his office decorated like a church you felt like a sacrifice. That only turned you on more.

He pulled your legs apart as wide as they could go and gazed up your sex. Despite his academic cool guy demeanor, you were really beginning to see just how turned on he was. His face was flushed, his hands trembled slightly as they gripped your thighs. His erection was straining through his trousers, clearly large enough for you to have plenty of fun with later. He moved his hands from your thighs to your vulva and spread you open, sighing lustfully as he did. He took an index finger and rimmed it around your entrance, gathering your juices before bringing his finger in lazy circles around your clit. You moaned, a deep guttural moan. You were too caught up in the ecstasy of finally being touched to see just how much this affected him. He continued to slowly stroke you while he brought his lips back to your nipple, sucking and nibbling. The dual stimulation was heavenly. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered “Darling may I taste you?” You moaned at the thought and then, in a moment of theological clarity, caressed his cheek and replied “My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to browse in the gardens and to gather lilies. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he browses among the lilies.” He seemed just as turned on by religious quotation as you, his eyes widened before he slunk back down to your pussy, spreading it wide before feasting upon you.

He took an experimental lick from your entrance to your clit and you cried out. Clearly amused by your reaction, he focused on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a painfully slow fashion. You were moaning in a way you would’ve considered deeply embarrassing had you had the clarity to hear yourself: a high pitched whiny squeal that sounded like something out of a porno. This entire scenario, the dashing older man eating out the young bookish girl, was straight out of a porn so perhaps your wailing was fitting.

As you felt your climax build, he cruelly pulled away. “Noooo don’t stop please!” You whined, lightly kicking his arm. He looked up at you and you found that his gaze had shifted back to the confident, predatory one you’d seen at the actual church. He climbed up your body until you were face to face and he held your chin in a strong grasp. “Are you going to be a good girl? Because only good girls get to cum.” You nodded frantically. “You said earlier you were at my mercy, I’m going to put that to the test now. If you disobey me I’ll leave you crying on the floor with no release and no chance at getting my cock.” Your eyes widened, what on earth did he mean with his test? Your mind was too clouded with lust to question anything. You needed him. “Anything Mr. Reed I’ll do anything you want. I’m your good girl please let me show you.” He chuckled at your desperation. “Wait right here then my good girl, I need to grab some things. Something from me and something from you.”

He left you laying on the floor wondering what he could possibly mean by something from you. After what felt like ages he returned. In his hands he held an ornate candlestick with the Virgin Mary carved into the side. A deep red candle was affixed to the top. “This” he said setting the candle on the ground “is from me.” He rifled into his cardigan pocket for something. “And this is from you. I think most people would say good girls don’t carry this in their purse, but I would wager I’m not most people.” He produced a small black rubber ball with a small hole at the top. You stared at in, confused, and then realization set in. It was a vibrator. You had gone out to lunch with your roommate from undergrad a week ago and she had given it to you as a joke, calling it your date for Valentine’s Day. She’d been married with kids for 5 years at this point and constantly nagged at you to settle down so the vibrator was par for the course, a usual humiliation from her. At the time you’d rolled your eyes at her and thrown it in your bag forgetting about it. Your companion must have rifled through your belongings when you got up to use the bathroom at the restaurant. He sat down on the floor and motioned for you to come to him. “Lay against me pet.” He said patting his chest. You backed into him, your ass against his straining erection and your head leaning back onto his shoulder. It was almost too intimate a position for a one night stand. If that’s all this was.

“Here is what’s going to happen. I am going to take this candle, light it, and drip its wax down your delectable body. While I’m doing that I will be holding this vibrator firmly against your clit. Now I know I’m not some big muscle freak, but I am certainly strong enough to hold you down and I will do so. You will not cum until I give you permission. If you agree to this right now I will not listen to any pleas of stop or no, but I know that you won’t dare even utter those words.” Your heart was racing and you felt yourself grow even wetter, something you didn’t think was possible at this point. Earlier when you’d mentally imagined fucking your new friend you’d imagined he would kiss you and fondle your breast a little before fucking you in missionary. You’d never anticipated wax play and edging from an aging British amateur theologian.

“I told you Mr. Reed. I’m at your mercy.” You huffed out, snuggling your head into his neck as if to prove how serious you were about staying. “Atta girl” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead. He started by lighting the candle. Once the wax began dripping down to the candle holder he lifted it off the ground and hovered it above your naked body. “You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.” The psalm slipped past his lips as the hot wax hit your breasts. It felt incredible, especially as he held you flush against him. His right arm held you firm in place against him even as his hand, which held the vibrator, snaked closer and closer to your core. Finally you felt the cold silicone divot pressed firmly over your clit. You shuddered at the contact, already sensitive from his fingers and mouth. He hit the button on the side of the device and it whirred to life. Just as the vibration began he poured more wax down your torso. The stimulation was already mind numbing. He began whispering passages from revelation in your ear, the twisted words of angels unleashing chaos on mankind only sending me further into your hedonistic frenzy. The Catholic slut had been fully realized. The vibrator attacked your clit you felt yourself teetering just on the edge of release, somehow holding out simply to please him, to serve him.

Tears began rolling down your cheek, not from the pain of the hot wax, but from the pure ecstasy this man was inflicting upon you. There was nothing left in the world, just you and him. His soft cardigan against your skin, his wispy grey curls tickling your eyes as you hid your face in the crook of this neck, his gentle voice in your ear. Suddenly that voice switched from revelation back to a passage from a psalm: “Deep calls to deep at the noise of your waterfalls. All your waves and your billows have swept over me.” Your entire body erupted into white hot light, your climax racking through your very being. Mr. Reed set down the candle and turned off the vibrator and brought you even closer to him, bringing you fully into his lap with his arms around your waist. You sobbed into his neck, so overwhelmed and overstimulated by what you had just experienced. “Oh my beautiful girl you are more marvelous than I could’ve ever imagined.”

Once you had stopped crying and come down from your orgasm a little, he tapped your side and helped you stand up. He guided you out of his faux church and down the hall into what you assumed must be his bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and left for moment, not without kissing you first. While you waiting for him you took in your surroundings. The walls were covered in a deep red floral wallpaper. The bedding was soft, though a little worn. He had more religious artifacts adorning his walls and shelves. You even spied Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons amongst a stack of books. You would tease him for that later. He returned with a large glass of water and handed it to you. As you sipped the cool water he started undressing, stripping down to a white tshirt and plaid boxers. You set the glass down on his bedside table and held your arms out to him. He climbed in the bed next to you and began kissing you fervently. His hands explored your body and despite the previous orgasm you found yourself growing slick with want yet again.

Now that he was freed from his trousers you reached your hand down and stroked his length through his boxers. He let out a delicious moan in response, his cool demeanor fully melted away and replaced with need. As you kissed him through his moans and continued to palm at him you wondered how long it had been since he’d been this intimate with someone. That’s really what was happening here, this was far more than a one night stand. You wanted to make him feel good, to elicit an orgasm that brought him to tears just like he had done for you.

Breaking the kiss you slid your hand under his shirt and gently guided it over his head. Once you’d removed his shirt you kissed him deeply, leaving his lips and trailing kisses down his chest. When you reached just above his boxers you raised an eyebrow, surprised to see a happy trail leading to your main event. You kissed along the patch of hair and slowly slid his boxers down. His cock sprung forward and you couldn’t help but moan a little at the sight of him. He was a good 7inches and decently thick. Circumsized too, so god must be pleased.

You began stroking his bare length and he shuddered. Leaning forward, you took his entire length into your mouth in one quick motion and he yelled. As you went to work he gripped your hair holding you tight in place. “Oh my sweet girl my good girl you make me feel divine” he sputtered out between moans. You loved how vocal he was and you couldn’t wait to hear him when he was inside you.

Suddenly his grip on your scalp released and he pulled your head off of him. Fearing you’d done something wrong you looked up at him with big doe eyes, waiting for a response. He pulled you up so that you were straddling him and brought your head to rest against his. “And the two shall become one flesh.” He whispered before pulling you into a kiss you could only describe as romantic. Sure you were both naked and your wet cunt was planted firmly on his rock hard cock, but there was something innocent and pure about that kiss. He scooted up against the headboard and pulled you firmly onto his lap, your tits right at eye level. He lifted you onto him and you both groaned in ecstasy as he entered you. Unable to control yourself you began riding him, needing to feel him go deep inside you. The sounds coming from your soaking union were obscene, complimented by your once again pornographic high pitched squeals and his guttural moans. He held you flush against him, your breasts smothering his face. He nipped and sucked at your nipples again, feeling the rush of warm wet slick it caused. “Imagine what your old classmates would think of you now, piercing yourself on an old atheist’s cock.” The dirty talk was back and you knew his voice alone could guide you to a second climax. “If god was real then he designed you just for me, he made your sweet little cunt ripe for my taking. MY perfect little Catholic slut.” He growled out the word “my” emphasizing the feeling you already held near and dear to your heart, you were his. With those words ringing in your ear you came hard and fast around his cock and he followed shortly after. You could feel his warm seed filling you and mixing with your own cum, dripping out of your weeping hole.

You both just held each other, his cock softening inside you. He finally pulled out and the two of you hobbled to his bathroom. He guided you into the shower and you both just enjoyed each other’s silent company as you cleaned off the evidence of your lecherous evening. You stayed under the warm water awhile longer after he left, just soaking in the steam. When you climbed out and began drying yourself off he re-entered the bathroom holding a pair of plaid boxers and a faded old Radiohead t shirt. “I get to stay?” You asked grabbing the clothes from him and pulling him into a kiss. “Darling if I had it my way you’d never leave.” You pulled on his clothes and climbed into his bed with him, falling asleep in his arms as if it was the place you were destined to be.

***

Four months later when you crossed the stage to accept your doctoral diploma, you beamed with pride and relief that for the first time in your academic career they didn’t call out the last name that belonged to your family who had thrown you out so carelessly. No, they announced you as Dr. Reed.

After a whirlwind month of romance and hedonism, Mr. Reed had proposed to you. It was insane, your friends thought, marrying a man old enough to be your father that you’d just met, but when they saw the two of you together the couldn’t argue. It truly seemed that you were two halves of a whole.

You were hired by the university you’d graduated from as a theology professor and you and your husband lived a blissful life. You opened him up more and would bring your friends around for dinner parties and game nights. He would still linger at your side like a puppy dog even as he grew more comfortable around people. The house you shared was always ooh’d and ahh’d at by company. Occasionally you’d be asked “what’s behind those twin doors in the office?” and you’d smile and politely reply “oh it’s just old storage there, nothing fancy to show off. In fact it’s a mess, I’d be embarrassed for you to see!” and your husband would squeeze your arm and smile at you, proud that you’d converted to his one true religion.

[yan-randomfandom]

Hiii baby! Can I request Jinx, Cait and if you do Maddie (all separately) w/ a gf who is dose very crafty/homemade makeovers?

Hear me out- why spend money on a cut & color, new piercing, nails ect when your hg can do it for you herself?? (I just grew up poor and had to learn😭😭)

Jinx, Caitlyn, & Maddie with a crafty girlfriend headcanons!!

a/n: omg its so nice that you rose up & learned em😭 such a fun request! this one is written before act 3

I didn't proofread or edit so please feel free to point out anything that's bothering you 😭

also this might be ooc.... im so sorry if it is😔

Let's go and start with ...

🌀

Jinx

Jinx has an established style with her neon painted nails, twin braids, inventions, and everything in her possession. An endearing fashion sense, even if some think it looks ridiculous lmaooo

With Jinx being an artisan and artist herself, you both find being creative a common ground in your relationship!

Makeovers anytime, anywhere. No need to find professionals when you have your girlfriend right here! It's a give and take relationship for sure. I imagine it'd be so fun and full of laughs 😩

Also I think you guys will inspire each other back and forth lolol

Having an art block and you don't like it? Ask the other for help!

And if you're both having art blocks? Well, Jinx will take you out on vastly different spots until you find what you're looking for. It's a great way to bond, and sightseeing is nice (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

When you're exploring new styles, and you aren't doing it on Jinx, she would love to simply watch you work. It has some sort of calming effect on her, especially if you're rambling while doing it.

If she sees something of your art that she likes, she might just copy you in her style! Kind of like how Jinx did that makeup when she was in Vi's apartment or something

Although don't be surprised if you wake up and see your face horrendously painted in the morning 😔

You can't even revenge because she sleeps with one eye open, I fear

☄️

Caitlyn

MAN. I feel like you'd have to beg Caitlyn for even the simplest makeovers. She looks so plain rn (in the style way) or am I just blind 😭

You suppose it makes sense. She looks so perfect and you keep giving compliments. Like, why is she so pretty?? There's just so many possibilities you can do with her appearance!!

But, sadly, she doesn't let you give her makeovers much. Not that she doesn't like your work, she respects it and adores it, but arts isn't exactly her thing.

I think make-up of any kind would probably feel uncomfortable for her. Plus it would be a hassle to remove it, she would say.

What you can do is give her hair a trim. A perfect line, as much as possible. She comes to you when her hair feels longer, or more damaged, than usual. Granted, it can be boring, but you're just glad you're doing something for her.

Another thing is that you can choose outfits for her. You can doll her up anytime as long as you don't take too long picking combinations!

If she has time, she'll probably let you paint her nails. Make sure she doesn't regret it, or else she might never let you again.

She'd buy anything you want, by the way. Money isn't a problem for her. So you technically have unlimited supplies, thank goodness, 'cause sometimes they can be so expensive.

You jokingly tell her that even if you break up, if she ever changes her mind about getting something, she'll come to you. Absolute dibs on Caitlyn!!

🍯

Maddie

I feel like Maddie has never really delved into bodily artworks, since she spent most of her time studying about laws and stuff.

Like,, do we agree on the motion that she cut her hair so she doesn't have to deal with it 😭 Less weight during missions too

So when her amazing girlfriend happens to be passionate about creatives? Oh, boy, she's going to be filled with curiosity.

She'll allow you to do anything you want to her, as long as it isn't permanent. In fact, she's super enthusiastic about it, always trusting the process and seeing the result.

You're so creative that it's impressive!! Even if it isn't your best work, she always finds a way to praise you 😭

She'd love to watch you work as well, but she's not exactly the quiet type 🥲

Expect a whole bunch of questions. "What's that for?" "Why are you putting that?" "Ooh, that technique looks complicated. How—"

One of your quality time is definitely you trying to teach her new things. Let her paint your nails, do your hair, and anything that can make you both happy.

If you make clips or whatnot, you definitely try to overload her fluffy hair with decoration. You try different hairstyles possible with that length of hers.

Sometimes, you catch her playing around with your make-up alone. It almost always ends with you fixing it up for her 😭

you, showing your new haircut (it looks horrible): yoooo isn't this so rizzing

jinx: hell yeah

caitlyn: you are not going out like that. go get your unnecessary amount of hair extensions and choose from there

maddie: hell yeah

[jjwolves]

The most recent Ena fic (the one where the reader transforms as they continue to be in this digital world) reminded me of a passing thought I had once: What do you think would happen if someone was isekai'd into her world AS an Ena? Like, a human in the real world who transformed into a member of Ena's species in this new dimension? Do you think BBQ Ena would be willing to take them under her wing? What about Webseries Ena?

You can take this as a request or not, it's your call. But if you do write about this idea, may I request you keep it platonic? Sort of like siblings? I feel a little odd about Ena dating Ena... I'd prefer if we didn't Onceler-ify the poor woman, ya know?

TUTORIAL LEVEL · · ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── · ·

What: ENA and ENA the Worker X ENA!Reader (Platonic)

Who: ENA and ENA the Worker from ENA and ENA Dream BBQ (Both by Joel G)

How Much: ~800 Words, ~4 mins

Credits: Image Banner -> Joel G

Warnings: None

A/N: HOW ABOUT BOTH MWAHAHA

ENA has lived many different lives as an anthology anomaly. One aeon she’s going on adventures with her moon friend, the other, she’s employed. Her existence was like a closed loop until you showed up, breaking into samsara. You had wandered across a world where every wondrous creature you met treated you like a pest. Your days were marked with confusion, until she found you and was… surprised. How could this be? Had she respawned incorrectly? She couldn’t compute what you were doing, being her. Having a face like hers. It shouldn’t be possible, but it was. And she was…

...Delighted! She had never, in all her travels, met someone who was like her! You two had so much to talk about! “Oh! How nice to meet a fellow conspirator! Your face… It’s just like mine!” ENA made sure to pull your suprisingly solid hair and experimentally pinch your polygonal cheeks. You were glad to meet a friendly face, but the head-touching was getting annoying and you waved her hands away. “Are you some kind of doppelganger?” A glitch-and-switch into blue. “If it’s true, just kill me and replace me already! I bet you’d do a better job than ME!” You weren’t startled by the sudden change—after all, you’d been a walking collection of emotional outbursts yourself. ENA chuckled nervously and returned to sunshine. “Ahem. Apologies. Would you like me to reveal to you the wonders of this land?” You would.

ENA gives you an enthusiastic tour of her strange world, occasionally interjecting with gentle advice when you would touch something that might be unsafe. Along the way, she gestures and dances excitedly as she talks about her favorite places. “This is Auction Hill. My good friend Moony and I come here to bet on various things. Oh, do be careful of the rainrocks. You’ll get squished!” ENA seems to take a great deal of delight in taking on a role which she usually doesn’t occupy: that of the mentor and guide. “Now, now. That banana is not to be touched! A man and his blue friend informed me that it is unsanitary.” She does little jumps and maneuvers to get into places which are difficult to reach, and then turns around, patiently waiting for you to do the same. When you eventually get it, she alternates between exclaiming “Joy!” and sobbing about how “You just got here and you’re better at it than I am!” When you part ways for the first time, you promise to come visit her again. “I look forward to your visitation. Thank you for letting me be your tutorial character!”

...Eager! ENA the Worker is a little bit different than her more carefree counterpart. She’s glad to meet someone who’s like her, and she’s happy to educate you on the ways of the world, but it’ll be filtered through her very business-oriented mindset. “Welcome, unsuspecting customer. Or should I say… employee?” She tacks a nametag onto you. “I am no longer the boss of myself, so I will be your boss today. Er, supervisor.” A switch. “GET TO WORK! SUPERVISOR’S ORDERS!” ENA is pretty busy, so she leaves sticky notes for things that you need to do and how to do them in a place you can easily see, but it’s ENA. It’s hardly comprehensible. Notes include ‘reach for the stars’, ‘sell stock’ and ‘try oil’. That last one left you more stumped than the others.

She sits you down to talk about your ‘job performance’. You’re pretty sure you haven’t been paid, so you’re not sure why you’re working for her. Smiling, and with a hint of sarcasm, she chirps, “Your performance has been terrible. Every time we talk to a customer, you end up crying on/screaming at/being apathetic towards/trying to kiss them! How unprofessional!” She passes the baton to her pale side. “ARE YOU TRYING TO STEAL MY JOB OR SOMETHING! YOU WANNA TRY BEING MANAGER?!” You point out that she said she was the supervisor. “IT’S BOTH!” You flip to one of your extremes and both start getting tangled in a chaotic emotional clash. Froggy can’t stand it. “Will you both shut the hell up?!”

[kyouka-supremacy]

Asagiri-Harukawa panel at the Naples Comicon (2025) - transcript

KA: Kafka Asagiri SH: Sango Harukawa I1: Interviewer 1 (Angelo “Sommobuta” Cavallaro) I2: Interviewer 1 (Alessandra Marchioni) Interpreter: Serena Musella

Translation is from Italian and not Japanese. My notes are in [].

[Before the panel began, I1 informed that it was strictly prohibited to take photos. Harukawa and Asagiri entered dressed the same way as they looked in their greetings before the Dead Apple screening a few hours beforehand. Harukawa set behind a white divider, which kept them hidden for the whole duration of the panel. There were enthusiastic clapping and cheers after every answer for the entire duration of the panel.]

I1: I would like to ask the senseis Harukawa Sango and Asagiri Kafka whether they’d like to introduce themselves.

KA: Benvenuti [welcome]. Thank you everyone for being here; I see there’s also a lot of people who were at the autographs session, I am very happy to see you again; have fun.

SH: Ciao, grazie [hello, thank you]. Hello everyone, I’m Harukawa, I take care of Bungou Stray Dogs’ character designs and drawings. I’m very glad to know you, and I’m especially extremely happy for being here, coming for the first time in such a far place and seeing just how many people are here to hug me with their warmth.

I2: I would like to start with a series of questions to break the ice, to get to know a little more about our extremely welcomed guests: how did the fly from Japan go, have you ever been in Italy and Europe and how many times, and are you enjoying this travel in Naples?

[Asagiri looks confused about the question. He turns around in a goofy way (questions are written on the screen to their back), and everyone giggles.]

KA: I’m sorry, I can’t see very well. This is the first time I come to Italy and in Naples, I’m extremely excited and glad, especially for the beauty of the city and for the delicious food. And also thanks to the warmth that I received from all you fans, I now feel completely reinvigorated, thank you lots.

SH: Just like Asagiri sensei said, for me as well it’s the first time in Italy and in Naples, and I was extremely struck by the beauty of the city, and I had the impression like Japan’s colours were a little darker and sadder compared to Italy’s. Italy is so colourful and, just like I thought, the land of art.

I1: Before diving in our talk about Bungou Stray Dogs, I would like to ask the senseis if there’s anything they would like to share with us Italian fans.

KA: This is the second time I’m participating to a panel of this kind: the first time I was in America, but in Japan I already had the chance six times. Although, this is the first time I’m joining a panel in collaboration with Harukawa-sensei, so it’s really an historical moment you’re all being part of.

SH: Asagiri-san stole my words.

[I2 invites the audience again not to take photos.]

I1: I would like to ask Asagiri Kafka sensei what brought you to write and create Bungou Stray Dogs, how did the idea come to you, and what did you want to convey to us readers?

KA: The reason that pushed me to write Bungou Stray Dogs is very easy: I was unemployed.

I2: At this point we have a question for Harukawa sensei: when you started drawing Bungous Stray Dogs – since you take care of the artistic aspect – what guided your artistic approach? And how did you find the right drawing style for each character of the manga?

SH: In Japanese manga, there’s no colours and everything is black and white. So what pushed me the most to write was creating silhouettes that could work [??] in this world in black and white.

I1: This is a question for Harukawa Sango sensei and Asagiri Kafka sensei: what are your favourite authors, favourite books, and how did these preferences influence you in Bungou Stray Dogs?

KA: I forgot what I said during rehearsal, so I’m going to come up with another answer now. My biggest inspiration comes from movies, especially American superhero movies like Avengers. Especially, which movie inspired me the most? It could make you a little mad, so I’m not going to tell.

SH: I don’t know how well-known it is in Italy, but in Japan it’s incredibly famous: there’s this game called Persona, so principally from the artist, who’s Shigenori Soejima.

I2: At this point as good Italians we must ask whether you have any favourite Italian writer or illustrator; and if you had to add an Italian artist to Bungou Stray Dogs, who would they be, and what special ability would they have? You wouldn’t have drawn them, obviously. [not sure about this last sentence, I think they’re rhetorically asking “unless you have already drawn them”]

KA: [Pause] Dante! [Audience goes wild.]

KA: I’ve always wanted to add Dante in the story, and if I had to think of an ability, I would like it to capture Italy in its entirety.

SH: I wouldn’t know how to answer on who’s my favourite writer, but I certainly have a favourite Italian artist, who is Giorgio de Chirico, who’s very famous in Japan as well.

I1: A question for the both of you, I would like to know how much research you made on the life or real works of the great authors that share the same name of every character of the manga, that is, the great writers, the great artists. And, do manga characters reflect their personalities, or their works?

KA: When I imagined the characters’ creation, the first thing I wanted to convey was respect for the original authors. That’s why I dedicated a lot of time to research the works and especially the lives of these authors. Even then, I never thought of making the characters the same of the original authors. The reason why is because if I had done this, 70% of Bungou Stray Dogs’ authors would have been horrible people and drunkards.

SH: I also made a lot of research regarding the original authors, for example, the character of Izumi Kyouka, she always brings with her a rabbit plushie, and this derives precisely from a story of the author.

I2: What are your favourite scenes and characters in the manga; how much did characters change with the story’s progression; and do you think today Bungo Stray Dogs’ characters have a will of their own?

KA: I forgot the rehearsal’s answer again. The most fun thing to write were fights between adversaries, enemies. For example, the one between the Port Mafia and the Guild; or the Hunting Dogs and Sigma. The reason is very simple: when there’s a fight between good and evil, it’s obvious good is going to win, but when the fight is between evil and evil, it gets a lot more interesting. And it’s in these moments that one can write a real conclusion.

SH: I also forgot the answer from rehearsal, so I’m going to think about it now. I’m not going to speak of a scene, but of a character. Since I found it very interesting to draw western clothes, one of the characters I had the most fun drawing was Lucy and Nikolai.

I1: Now we have a little surprise, because we will make the sensei Harukawa Sango comment some pages from the manga. So, now we will see some pages, and the teacher will comment them to us.

SH: In this scene in particular, I had to draw the room of Lucy Maud Montgomery, and at that time, I couldn’t find the inspiration. So, it was my assistants who helped me, and it was a nice moment of cooperation. Especially when I then saw this scene again in the anime transposition, it was exactly the same of how I had drawn it, and that made me very happy.

SH: For what concerns the picture in the center, where lemons come out from the character’s face, I received a memo from Asagiri sensei where they told me to draw it extremely frightful, and that’s exactly what I tried to do.

SH: For what concerns the panel of Demon Snow, I said before that one of my greatest inspiration were the Persona characters, and indeed Demon Snow is inspired exactly to these characters.

SH: Here I draw a chainsaw for the first time.

SH: Of this episode in particular I don’t have many memories, because the deadline was super tight and I worked like crazy, so I don’t remember very well what I did. I am very thankful to Asagiri sensei who, since they saw me in great struggle, told me that the scene of the battle on the top of the whale, I could leave all white [???]

I1: I would like to ask a question for both of you, that is, I would like to understand how does the behind the scenes of a chapter creation works; Asagiri Kafka sensei writes the script, Harukawa Sango obviously draws, but, how does their collaboration work, I mean how does the work between illustrator and script writer work? And above all I would like to know what’s the thing one likes about the other.

KA: I take care of the script, while Harukawa sensei takes care of the drawing. I respect a lot, we both respect a lot one the expertise of the other, so we try to never enter in the work [of the other] nor to influence each other.

SH: They again stole my words.

KA: It’s a little embarrassing, now on the spot like this, saying what’s the thing I like the most about her; but to be honest, working with her has been one of the most beautiful things of my life. And if I were to say what I love in particular, it’s the colours, the way of drawing, but especially the characters’ design.

SH: If I had to tell what I like about him is that he never projects himself inside his characters; characters are independent entities, different from him. This is something I like a lot.

I2: And just to Asagiri sensei we would like [to ask] a question in particular: can you tell us some more on the character abilities’ nature and on their connection with the Book? What are exactly abilities, and why do some have them, and others don’t? As of late the story delved more on the Book, can you tell us some more on what it really is, and of its role, the role of the Book in the world of Bungou Stray Dogs.

KA: For what concerns the Book, you’re going to find out soon; the only thing I can tell you, is that the Book is the world.

KA: Instead, for what concerns abilities… I don’t think there’s the need to actually decide where they come from. There may exist works where it’s necessary to reveal what abilities are and where they come from, but I don’t think it’s the case of ours.

I1: Once more, I would like to ask you both what were your impression when you received the proposal of realizing the anime of Bungou Stray Dogs, so, an animated adaptation of your manga.

KA: If I had to say in one word what it is to transpose in anime the manga for a mangaka: it’s a dream. For a person, to see their dream become true, it’s truly indescribable. [Everyone starts clapping, but Asagiri gestures to stop in a funny way.] However, when I was told that my manga would have become an anime, I had published only two volumes, so I thought the timing was a little wrong, and it surprised me. That’s all.

SH: As a mangaka, I think anime can reach a lot more people; compared to those who exclusively read the manga, anime reaches where the manga can’t reach. And thanks to this, even people who would have never read the manga, like my friends, and especially my parents, complimented me, and told me “you did very well”; that made me very glad.

I2: What role did you have in the phase of production of the anime, and how did you help the anime staff?

KA: For what concerns the writing of the script, which is also my job, I joined every meeting, and I was even a bit nitpicky in deciding what to say, what to put in, what to not put in. For everything else, I left it to the animation experts: it’s not my job, so I left things to them.

SH: On the other hand, for what concerns the drawing part, the manga is black and white, while the anime is in colour, so I mostly took care of this part. However, I didn’t give specific directions on which colours to pick; the only thing I focused on was the brightness and the shading aspect. That’s what interested me above everything else. Like Asagiri sensei said as well, I take care of the manga, so everything else, for what concerns the animation, I left it to the professionals.

I2: What were your impressions when you saw the finished anime for the first time?

KA: Of a breathtaking beauty. I was truly moved. In particular, seeing how Dazai threw away his coat [I suppose how his coat flows to the wind in season 1 episode 1].

SH: I will again give an answer that is completely different from rehearsal. In my illustrations, there’s a lot of images where hair fly to the wind, or clothes fly to the wind; seeing those animated was very interesting. And because of this I was very happy.

[Shortly after, the panel drew to an end. Explanation on Asagiri waving the Soukoku Italian flag here.]