#this quick drawing is a bonus because I felt bad not to include anything but a link

[arttsuka]

trick or treat...ummmee...12!

Mmm, 17. Trick

[theevangelion]

Keira: Dom Cat/Sub Kara Sneak Peek

For Kendrene: Mistress Cat/Sub Kara. Kara has some special duties as Cat's personal assistant, including being fucked by her boss in the office after hours. Bonus points for involving Cat's very steep heels in the process.

*OR*

Cat Grant gives her Bambi-legged personal assistant an intensive course on how to walk in high heels.

“Oh! Keira while you’re here!” Miss Grant halted the personal assistant escaping in search of her lunch hour. “I need you to run and grab coffee before you take your break.”

“It’s Kara.”

“Excuse me?” Miss Grant glanced over the top of her glasses from the photographs spread out on her desk.

“It’s Kara, not—”

“Did I ask for your name?” Miss Grant didn’t so much as blink. “Keira, I can only assume you got out of bed on the wrong side this morning—presumably in the dark too if those last season bargain basement shoes are anything to go by—which you wear with all the grace and elegance of a reversing garbage truck without any wheels on, by the way.” Miss Grant turned her attention back to the grainy photographs of a popular athlete kissing a woman who was not his wife. “I’ll take a danish too.” She shooed with her fingers.

Taken aback, Kara realised that she now simply had a new name until Cat Grant decided otherwise. There was nothing to say—nothing she could say—other than blither foolish apologies for misspeaking. Kara had been warned about Cat’s quick, no survivors taken attitude. The several ex-personal assistants in the Facebook support group had made it abundantly clear.

But, Kara hadn’t found the advertisement for this role on Indeed or LinkedIn. She found it through quite a different website altogether.

“Coffee, Keira.” Miss Grant pointed a manicured finger to the door. “Why are you still here?”

“Sorry! Yes! Coffee, Miss Grant. Almond milk?” Kara became determined to get it right for fear of the alternative.

“Of course I want almond milk, Keira,” the petite woman scoffed, “I’m not a fucking barefoot savage.”

***

“She’s looking to finish strong but the ankles are weak. Her coach and team will be disappointed with her performance today. Wibble wobble, will she make it?” Miss Grant chided behind Kara all the way through the office as though walking in these particular heels were an Olympic gymnastics floor final. “Oh! She nearly tripped but she stuck the landing!” Miss Grant burst enthusiastically as they made it through the door into her executive office. “Goodness, Keira. It’s like watching a horse try to gallop in roller skates inside a pressurised vacuum chamber.”

“I can wear flats instead of heels if you prefer, Miss Grant?” Kara suggested with blushing cheeks, leaning over slightly as she placed the coffee and rival daily newspapers on Cat’s desk for morning appraisal.

“Keira.” Slender hips pressed against Kara’s bent bottom, then lips craned and pressed against the back of her reddened ear. It made Kara’s heartbeat stop and her brain empty outward. “I’m offended you would suggest such a thing. Firstly, I’m offended on behalf of high heels. Secondly, I’m offended you would think about stripping me of the small joy that comes with mercilessly mocking you.” Kara swallowed hard and felt her boss gently tuck her wavy hair behind her ear. “You don’t want to offend me, do you Kara?” Cat whispered.

“You said my name.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” Kara stopped and inhaled, shaking her head at her own foolishness. “Nothing, sorry. Of course I don’t want to offend you, Miss Grant. I… I like working here. I just want you to make sure you like me working here as much as I like working here.”

“You sound like bad Roald Dahl fanfiction when you speak off the tongue. I don’t like it.” Cat pulled back, but she gently slipped her slender fingers along Kara’s shoulder as she moved away—almost taking the venom out of her own statement. “Still, a woman without confidence is like a bisexual person without a Harry Potter inspired tattoo, Keira. Incomprehensible,” Cat snided, stepping around her desk with clasped hands at her waist. “I’ll teach you how to appreciate heels. Be here at six this evening.”

“After work?” Kara gulped and fiddled with her glasses.

“Will that be a problem?”

“No Ma’am.” She shook her head.

***

Kara was a pretty thing. Annoying, but pretty. There were few things that Cat enjoyed less than a young woman falling all over herself like a wounded deer in the wake of a cutting word from her quick tongue. But, Kara had seemingly made herself immune to the humiliation in recent weeks.

Cat would try, of course, nasty little remarks here and there to make the girl wither crimson. But Kara would just smile the most radiant smile and say a blushing thank you, apparently grateful for the attention and constructive feedback.

Truth be told, it warmed Cat.

But that didn’t stop it being any less infuriating.

Cat had placed the job advertisement on the fetish website for two reasons: to draw in the type of submissive natured assistant who would prove long standing—because having to re-explain the basics of how she wanted things done around the office every few months after the latest one quit was more headache than it was worth. Cat also placed the advert on the fetish website because it was a very, very fun and convenient way to bring her most private fantasies to life.

Cat enjoyed the thought of humiliating a girl to tears, parading her naked, spanking her over her knee, doing all sorts of rude and cruel things to her. There were the overtly sexual things too—the thought of taking her personal assistant to business dinners with electrified toys in all sorts of sensitive places. A tear-stained porcelain face buried underneath her hiked skirt licking her stresses away—waiting for the chief’s permission to gasp for a much needed breath.

Why keep it a filthy, private fantasy when she could find someone as equally perverted as herself? Better yet, why keep it a filthy perverted fantasy when she could find a little fool who would do these things without the good business acumen to demand a premium salary rate.

Kara made above market average of course, if only from the benevolence of Cat’s tender heart. The girl didn’t have enough between her ears to think to demand it, though Cat supposed that was rather a good thing for longevity's sake.

Cat never abided demanding types very well.

“Panties off too.” Cat didn’t glance away from her laptop screen despite wanting to stare. “I don’t care if you cry yourself blue in the face. Take them off or put the rest of your clothes on and march yourself down to the unemployment line.”

“I’m not crying,” Kara whispered softly as though confused by the statement. “I wasn’t wearing panties to begin with, Miss Grant.”

At that Cat snapped her stare across with witheringly cold precision. Kara stood there completely bare with her hands clasped behind her spine. From stood beneath the lighting directly above her, her skin was a gorgeous shade of bone white, her muscles taut and slender, which gave her the impression of being much taller than she actually was. Cat thought she looked beautiful, and she wanted to give the compliment where it was due, though she would never miss the opportunity for a quip.

“What happens when you assume, Keira?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Grant.” Wrong footed, Kara startled like a wide-eyed deer.

Much better, Cat thought.

Kara continued, “I just. I just like to be prepared for you, Miss Grant. I like to anticipate what might be required of me—”

“And what were you anticipating when you decided to forgo panties this morning?” Cat rose from her chair with a cool, indiscernible expression. “What? You had some infantile, school girl fantasy that perhaps I might use your dripping little hole as balm?” Cat blinked and pushed the smallest of smirks. “Of course, I suppose today wasn’t the first day the air from the subway vents tickled you in private places?” She clipped around her desk with poise.

YOU CAN READ ALL FOUR CHAPTERS OF THE COMPLETE STORY HERE!

[unholyplumpprincess]

Finally

A commission for @shortythescreen TYSM AGAIN AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!

Summary: Anita has been friends with you for awhile and thought her yearning after you was simply her having a crush on you. Not seeing all the signs that pointed to you liking her back. Well, not until you two are in a sparring session and she pins you to the ground after some heavy flirting and goes for the kill. Only to find out you two are in fact, both into each other. Or!!!! In which Anita is oblivious of your adoration of her and once she finds out she fucks your brains out and calls you cute pet names like Princess and Baby Girl.

Reblogs > Likes. DNI if you are a minor or an ageless blog or you will be blocked.

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Bangalore/Fem! Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is a cis gal, lots of pet names like Princess/Baby Girl/etc!, brief mention of hand around throat, big monster themed strap, breeding kink, Reader is a brat

Words: 6.1k

_________

Call Anita cliché, but she’d never met a girl like you.

She’d always thought herself to be the ‘not-so-romantic-’ type. Sure, she’d had relationships in the past, but that felt more like teenage exploration than it had been a real connection. Her 20’s had been too busy for her to even begin to think about having a relationship- IMC kept her real busy and made sure all her time had been eaten up. Well. Except for a fling here and there. And by the time she got to where she was now, she had the Apex games to participate in and friends around her.

So why worry about romance now, right?

When you showed up to compete, you didn’t seem like anything real special. Cute, sure, had your own sass about you but so did a lot of competitors climbing their way up the ranks to be known as Legend. You didn’t seem as arrogant or cocky as most competitors did, you seemed focused and determined, so you had that going for you. A plus in her book.

You had wound up clawing your way to the top through the same blood and gunfire as the rest of them did. You’d even gotten your fair share of hits on her. In fact, you’d managed to even take a few of the legends out- including her.

Anita was embarrassed to admit she hadn’t been exactly angry when you’d done it either. Your pleasant weight atop her, a small smirk on your face when you’d practically crooned out, “Nothing personal, Sarge. But, won’t lie and say this doesn’t feel great.” Before you’d taken her out with a knife removed from your thigh’s hilt.

That’s when you really caught her attention.

~Rest Under The Cut~

You were a new legend now, landing out on top of all the other competitors as champion. You’d proven your worth, and the Syndicate made damn well sure you got a great deal to make you stay. Seeing you out on the battlefield all geared up had been one thing, but to see you walking around the compound in casual lounge wear and doing things even like reading a book? That’s when Anita had realized there was something a little more about the way she looked at you.

Infatuation, she’d told herself, you were just hot. That should have been it. Not like she hadn’t thought that way about Ajay, Bloodhound, Wraith, hell even Witt had been smoking, what was the difference with you?

However, those feelings amplified as you two got closer.

It all seemed to click when one night you had been the one to offer a movie night for all the legends. When Anita laughed and said sleepovers weren’t her thing, you’d quirked a brow and asked if she was chicken. Cock fights and being baited into something like movies all because you’d poked at her and called her a coward- she should have known better. And yet she’d puffed out her chest and told you ‘In your dreams’ and showed up anyway.

The gall you had at making a swirl motion around your pinkie at her and mouthing ’Littlest finger’ and blowing a kiss her way SHOULD have made Anita red hot with anger. But instead, she’d been red hot with the feeling of begin flustered curling down her spine.

And the urge to wipe that damned cocky look off your face. Preferably with her mouth.

Freckled cheeks flushed and a huff exhaling from Anita‘s lips as she had turned her gaze away from you all snuggled up against Natalie’s side and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t because she was jealous. You just…looked nice and warm was all.

And maybe you looked extra cute when you laughed and threw your head back at a certain scene on the movie. And maybe Anita at some point didn’t totally wind up sitting behind you just so when you leaned back, you’d lean back all the way into her lap just to try and irritate her with your bratty attitude. And maybe, just maybe, Anita had pretended to look irritated just so you’d stay leaned back into her lap.

She didn’t exactly mean to fall for you, but not like it was hard. It felt like you were a ray of sunshine in her dark little corner at times. Even when Anita would be having a bad day and feeling a bit too touchy when it came to loud noises, it’s as if you just understood her, resting a hand on her arm and offering her solace in any way you could.  

Like one day Anita had been rather snappy, it was edging the anniversary of when her brother had…had been taken from her. Everything felt a little too much, memories waging wars in her head and she might have snapped at Makoa for something simple. She, of course, later would apologize to him for it, but in the moment, she’d been such a quick trigger. You had been the one to ask her to follow you until you guys found the nearest empty room being the gym. You’d sat her down on the floor, sat in front of her on your knees and held her shoulders firmly.

At first, she’d been irritated, rubbing her face and about to push you off. But, you’d spoken so softly to her. “Hey, hey, something else is bothering you and I’m not going to ask what, so don’t feel like you have to preach to anyone, okay? Let’s just sit here in the quiet until you can cool off. I’ll be right with you.”

Anita had looked at you like that was silly at first, but then when she caught your gaze your eyes had so much understanding written in them. She swears she teared up, but you didn’t even flinch. Not even when her arms had snug around your waist and dragged you forward into a tense hug that you had quickly returned, rubbing her back soothingly as she buried her face into your shoulder.

You were a good friend—hell, a great friend. She really isn’t sure what she did to deserve you, especially when on days she’d poke and downright be an asshole to you. It’s as if you knew without her ever needing to state the Why’s or the How’s. Not like she was taking all your kindness without giving, she’d found you were quite fond of physical touches like hugging when you were overwhelmed at things too. Now, Anita hadn’t been exactly the ‘hugging kind’, until once again, she met you.  

Although, it was a bonus for Anita to see you and for you to light up with a smile as you ran for her at full blast to wrap your arms around her waist and leave the scent of your perfume all over her. Especially if she’d lift and spin you just to make you shout with joy in that little way that always had her heart racing.

Man, Anita really had it bad, huh?

Recently, you two had been able to spend more time together. Not that Anita was even close to complaining about that. You had asked her if she’d be willing to train you on more hand-to-hand combat, explaining you hadn’t really had any that didn’t involve a weapon of sorts. You were great with a knife in close combat, but when it came to disarming someone or getting the upper hand with just fists, you weren’t trained in it.

So, that’s where this all started. Getting you in the sparring area of the gym, a flat ground surface with mirrors on the wall on one area to show your stance if you needed to practice. There, she taught you basics first of disarming someone, of how to knock someone off their feet and throw off their aim. You caught on quickly, tossing her over your shoulder and down onto the soft mats below when you’d yanked her arm back behind her and declared victory.

Anita can’t say she hated being under you, not when you were beaming so bright and proud of yourself.

But when your little bratty nature had come out? With a croon to your tone as you ruffled her curls. ”Maybe I’ll get even better than you in the ring, huh?” Then she no longer thought about being under you.

Anytime that little bratty attitude got the better of you, she thought of wiping that smug look off your face. Not with a hit, no, but by grabbing you by your throat and slamming your back to her chest. Making you watch your face in the mirror as her hand snuck down your pants to rub your clit until you shook and trembled while you had to watch your own pretty little face contort. Often times she got stuck day dreaming about that, throwing her off and making it easier for you to catch her off guard and tease her for it.

If only you knew how wrapped around your finger she truly was.

All your training leads to today, a more hands-on session without her actually teaching you anything. But rather, all your training coming into a sparring session. You look so cute in your workout clothing choice, if a little distracting. A black sports bra and a pair of tight matching yoga pants with your symbol on the thigh, your hair pushed out of the way and pulled back. The expanse of your neck was even more distracting, especially with more of your skin exposed.

Anita wondered if you would like to be marked up. If you would shy away from the pain or if you’d preen at it. Often enough times, hell, even just in this past week it’s all Anita could think about. Whenever she was alone, a hand down her pants and eyes shut as she imagined you beneath her. Taking her cock as your fingers twisted into the sheets and you preened and begged rather than that smart little mouth you always got. Saying her name again and again and again-

“Anita? Heellllooooo, paging Dr. Anita, do you copy?” Your teasing voice draws her out of her thoughts where she’s sat on the floor mid-stretch still. You’re bent over down towards her, waving a hand in front of her spaced out eyes until she blinks a few times and looks up at you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I copy. You already done, Nurse Brat?” She quickly switches the topic, matching your tone, switching legs to stretch and peeking up to see you beaming at her. It makes her heart clench, forcing Anita to look away and pretend to roll her eyes up at you instead when you happily nod.

Her own choice in outfit was camo tight yoga capris and her own sports bra, keeping her own movements free. She’s still riding the high of when you first saw her today, lowly whistling and looking clearly at her ass and complimenting it. Anita would have to try to wear tighter pants without making it too obvious she was trying to get you to look later.

After stretching, she tells you to take your position. Reminding you this was sparring to put everything you learned into motion, and that if you tripped up, don’t sweat it as this was just a practice run. Though, a smirk does rest on her full lips as she teases you. “Not that I’ll be going easy on you, princess.”

“Be as rough as you want, sweetheart. I can take it.” You croon back, fluttering your lashes all the while and making heat course through Anita at the way you say it. It sounded like you were implying more- but, no, that’s just probably her hope.

Right?

You throw the first punch and from there it’s like a dance between you two. Anita makes sure to dodge mostly, making sure you’re keeping your footwork correct and complimenting you the entire time on your frame. ‘Beautiful’, ‘There you go, baby girl, keep it up’, ‘Hey, almost got me there’.

Each time a pet name spills from her lips, your cheeks seem to get redder but not from exertion, and your movements just a touch sloppier. Anita might be paying too much attention to the way sweat curls down between your breasts, or how your lips pout a bit when you miss her but she manages to push you away and back, reminding you to keep your focus despite her own getting a bit foggy.

Wasn’t your fault you looked damn good like that, all pent up and sweaty. A healthy flush across your cheeks as you bounce on the balls of your feet and ready for her next pounce, a furrow of your brow in determination. Your lips part to take a breath and Anita’s eyes fall to them without thinking, and in a blur, you’re rushing at her to try and take her down with a low sweep.

She counters you, grabbing you by your waist to move with your momentum, spinning you until she can slam you down onto the ground beneath you both. You hit the ground on your back with a huff of air leaving your lips, a little out of it with a low groan of frustration leaving you.

There’s nothing but tension between the two of you. Anita’s heart pounds as she looks down at you and your cute little pout when you realize you’ve been defeated, parting your lips to maybe complain about your defeat. But you’re cut off when soft, full lips cover your own. Anita’s warm body fits on top of you, fitting a strong thigh between yours and her calloused hand cupping your cheek so adoringly. She considers pulling your hair, forcing your head back, but she parts after a moment so you two can pant and catch your breath together.

Your breath mingles with hers, only an inch apart and her being able to see your eyes half lidded and looking back from her eyes to her lips. It gives her the confidence in not wondering if what she felt between you two was just her imagination, but that doesn’t stop her from giving you a nervous, crooked grin and showing off one of her dimples. “Sorry ‘bout that. If I read anything wrong–”

“Jesus, no, I’ve been wondering when you’d finally do something.” You breathe back in an exasperated and whining tone. “Was practically popping my tits out the deciding factor for you?”  

“No. Been thinking about you for a while. But…your tits are always appreciated.” She teases right back, leaning down to ghost her lips over yours without touching, just to hear you whimper in frustration. Your fingers sink into her curls, trying to urge her down, but she quickly avoids your mouth to kiss your cheek and moving down your jawline to your neck. It’s a blessing at all to feel you press up against her thigh, dizzying her off your heat felt through both of your thin pants.

“You okay with this?” Anita sighs out against your neck, kissing up to your ear and smiling when you shiver when her teeth nip your lobe.  

“Thought I made myself clear earlier when I told you I can take it, Sarge.” You’re using that bratty tone again, raising your hips against her thigh where she can feel you lightly grinding. A soft sigh leaves your lips near her ear, and from there Anita isn’t sure she can keep herself cool headed.  

Her thoughts amplify, thinking about just whisking you away and fucking you raw and rough until you get rid of that little brat attitude you always carried. Maybe in the showers where anyone could walk in and see you- could hear you crying her name.

Instead, her fingers grip your hips, yanking you closer to her thigh and forcing you to move against her as her lips finds your neck. Her tongue moves along your pulse, delighting in how your breath hitches and your fingers tighten in her hair. “Little girl, there’s a lot of rules I have for you if you want to even think about ‘taking it’.”

From there, she sits back, dragging you into her lap. Your hands fall to her broad shoulders, squeezing as her hand on your hip squeeze fondly in return. Her other hand slides into your hair, yanking your head back and forcing your neck to be bared and making you hiss as she continues. “You know what a color system is? Red, yellow, green?” You nod as best as you can, and she hums approvingly. ”How would you feel if I told you I want to take you back to my quarters and fuck the brat right outta that pretty little mouth of yours?”

“Green.” You practically whine out.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Baby girl ain’t got such a bad attitude when she’s promised some dick?” Anita teases you, tugging your hair to emphasize her point on how good you’re being when your head follows the motion without resistance. When you huff in reply, rolling your hips into her lap without a peep of a response out of you besides a low whine, she’ll take that as a yes.

Your hair is released, your cheek instead cupped and her thumb sliding over your cheekbone as she turns your gaze to her. Anita wants to kiss you again, badly, but refrains as she strokes your hair back behind your ear. “I…I don’t want this to be a one-time thing either. Like I said earlier, been thinking about you for a while. So if you’re just lookin’ for a fuck buddy or–”

“Anita,” You cut her off, her name falling off your lips always making her flash a smile, this time a little sheepish at your tone. ”I literally asked you out on a date last month.”

“To that cafe? I thought that was as friends?”

“I literally held your hand and said you looked beautiful.”

“I…you weren’t just being friendly?”  

The look you give her of exasperation makes it all click into place. Any time you had flirted, any time you had brushed your fingers on her lower back, any time you had asked her to lean down so you could fix her hair, any time you had flashed her a smile and told her she looked great in her uniform-

“For such a smart woman, you’re so goddamned dense sometimes.” You laugh out when you watch it all click to place in her eyes. Anita’s cheeks flush red, huffing at you and hitching her arms around you as she begins to stand. You make a sound of delight as she lifts you up into her arms, your legs around her waist and her arms resting under your ass for support.

“Better late than never though, right?” Anita smiles up at you, feeling more and more at home with you in her arms and you beaming down at her in turn with your arms over her shoulders. You look like heaven, she thinks, the lights above you creating a halo around you and the sweat glowing on your skin. A devil disguised as an angel.

The walk back to her quarters is met with no traffic along the way. Able to hold you up with one of her arms to punch in her room code before getting you inside. There’s only a moment at the door where she’s kicking off her shoes whilst balancing you before she’s bringing you to the bedroom.

Her room is simple, minimal and clean. Just like she liked it. Her bed tucked against the wall opposite of the window leading outside, a dresser on the opposite side of the room away from her bed with a few pictures set up of her family atop and few knickknacks of her own- including a childhood bear. It sat with clear choppy repairs and a replaced eye near a picture of her and her brother Jackson in a candid image of them being caught mid arm wrestle and beaming at each other in their uniforms.

“Oooh, is that the infamous Tango I’ve heard so much about?” You croon at the bear before you’re set down on the bed. Anita follows your eyes over to her stuffed toy, rolling her eyes back down at you when you wiggle your fingers at him to say hello. “Should we go turn him around?”

You grin is quickly turned into a muffled laugh when her lips cover yours, swallowing down your laughter as Anita fits between your thighs. You manage to kick off your shoes to the floor, winding your legs around her waist as her hand squeezes your thigh and her other resting on your cheek to guide you through the kiss. When you smile against her mouth cheekily, Anita quickly nips your lower lip, moving her hand from your cheek to your hair to grip it and tip your head back.

Your gasp gives her easy access to lick into your mouth and hear your breath hitch through your nose. Your moan only urges her to grip your hair tighter, making you strain your head back and forcing you to part from the kiss and release the prettiest whine. Anita smiles against your flesh, kissing down your neck where she sucks over your jawline, sinking her teeth lightly there to leave a bruise and relishing in the mindless way your hips lift to hump against her almost frantically.

“Atta girl,” Anita murmurs against your neck, sucking another bruise there. She shudders when your nails slide down her back, gasping lightly when you reach down to grab her ass like the cheeky brat you are. You pull her closer to you, holding her still as your hips move a bit more obviously to try and grind against her with this sly little smile on your face edging through your pleasured sighs.

“Ever thought about being a toy, baby?” You tease her, using that little bratty tone you do when you want something. She knows she shouldn’t be baited into it, that you’re being a brat for a reason, that you want her to grab you by your hair and throw you around. But you really hone that feeling in when you roll your hips pointedly against her, letting her feel how you’re slick enough to be felt through your thin yoga pants. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to learn how to take it–”

Anita knows she’s fallen into it when she grabs your throat and you smile like it’s the best thing she’s ever done to you and fuck if she isn’t smitten with how elated you look at the action. Your smile falls into a pretty open-mouthed expression when she lightly squeezes, a hiss falling from her lips to threaten you. “Watch your mouth before you speak, princess, I don’t play well with brats.”

“And if I don’t want to watch my mouth?” You breathe out when she eases on your throat, making her quirk a brow down at you when you flash your pretty princess smile and flutter your lashes as if you didn’t say or do a damned thing. Wrapped around your goddamn little finger.

“I have other ways of shutting you up. Hold still. Don’t even think about moving.”

And you do, lying oh so prettily on her bed after crooning out a ‘Yes, ma’am’ just to get a further rise out of her. Anita moves off the bed, pulling off her sports bra, watching your eyes greedily fall to her freckled chest and making her confidence rise when you let out the softest, yearning sigh.

Her pants go next, her boyshorts sliding down over her hips and flicked in your face like a rubber band. A laugh falls from her lips when you squeak, jumping and tearing them off ur face with a clear shout on your tongue before you seem to lose whatever steam you had when your eyes fall down to between her legs. She knew she looked good. Soft curls resting there, trimmed with her clit large enough to peek from her lower lips, the curls following the happy trail leading up to her navel. Scars lingered on her body from the past, bullet wounds and knives or impact areas.  

“Like what you see, Princess?” Anita teases, a crooked smirk on her face when you nod your head eagerly. “Good. You’ll be getting up close and personal here in a sec. Lie back down for me, will ya? Or do I have to force you to behave again?”

Anita’s pleased when she doesn’t have to. In fact, you gleefully lie back down, doing a mock salute her way. It’s cute- and a bit flattering actually- to have you eagerly grab at her when she comes closer. Your hands slide over her thighs, making this soft, needy sound in your throat once her thighs frame your face. You look just as hungry as you sound when she looks down, resting a hand in your hair and seeing you bite your bottom lip as you look directly at her wet cunt.

Your arms hook around her thighs, clearly tugging to try and get Anita to lower down, but she holds steady above you. Her fingers card through your hair, soaking in how your eyes look up to her face with a pleading expression that has her weak. But she won’t cave, not yet. “C’mon, you’re so good at talkin’ a big game, and now you’ve forgotten basic manners?”  

“Anita-” You try to whine out, trying to pull on her thighs again with your brows knitting together and your face flushed at her implication. “Thought you wanted to shut me up?”

“Can’t blame a girl for wanting to be wanted, hm?”

You pout up at her, a full lip out pout that makes her want nothing more than to ruin you until you’re raw and aching. Anita gently tucks some of your hair behind your ear, briefly stroking along your cheek with her fingers, and that seems to do it. Just a little bit of softness having you whining out for her so prettily. “Pleeeease? Please, please, please, let me taste you? Anita- baby, I’ve been a good girl, please, please, please?”  

Anita could argue that if this was you being a ‘good girl’ then you two had a lot of training to do. But she’ll save that for another time, following your tugging until she can rest one hand on the wall behind the bed, the other in your hair and sharply inhaling when your tongue drags across her.

You don’t waste a moment for her, licking from her hole up to her clit where you press under it with your tongue in what she could only guess was to feel it jerk against your tongue. You moan like It’s the best thing in the world, dragging your wet lips across her sensitive flesh to wrap your lips around it and using your tongue in ways that make her thighs and hips tremble.  

Sighs and soft hitches leave Anita’s lips, so focused on watching you enjoying yourself to even think about speaking. But you part from her briefly, nosing at her thigh and looking up at her from under your lashes with the sweetest expression when you murmur just loud enough for her to hear, “Will you keep talking?”

Anita blinks a few times, her freckled cheeks flushing to her ears when you peek up at her almost shyly when you ask it. She makes a questioning sound, and you nose at her clit in turn to make her hips jerk and a brief gasp escaping her.

“I like to hear your voice,” You clarify, rolling your hips up behind her and against nothing in such a needy fashion that Anita nearly thinks about forgoing this whole ’lesson’ and just making you scream already. “Think you sound sexy.”

“I can do that.” She murmurs, gripping your hair again and guiding your mouth back with ease to her cunt where you get right back to doing whatever it is you’re doing with your tongue that feels so fucking good-

From there, she lets her mouth run. Not sure where it starts and where it ends. Crooning things to you like ’Gonna make sure everyone knows you’re mine by tomorrow’ ‘Might not let you get any sleep tonight’ ‘Baby girl might not even get to cum tonight’ that’s the one that makes you whine, gripping her thighs tighter and making Anita’s own breath shake.

Then a test of the waters when she croons out, “Maybe my little princess wants to get bred nice and proper by my cock–”  

Anita doesn’t even get to finish her sentence when you’re gripping her thighs tighter, moaning against her clit and seeming to work a little harder. Anita’s cut off by her own grunt, a low groan leaving her and a swear when your tongue keeps sliding across her sloppily. That does her in, cumming against your tongue with both her hands slamming into your hair and her head falling back. Her teeth draw into her bottom lip, humping along your eager tongue and catching when you pat her thigh so she can release you so you can catch your breath.

From there, it’s a blur of moving off you to rip off your clothes, much to your delight if your soft little whines are anything to go by. At some point she pauses in the middle of pulling off your pants to kiss you, a breathy giggle leaving your lips when she parts to kiss down your body and blowing a raspberry on your belly just to hear you laugh again.

There’s a double check you’re still okay before she’s moving off you to get everything prepped. A bottle of lubricant set on the bed near you and a harness disguised as some everyday briefs sliding onto her hips and her eyes looking at her collection of cocks. “How big do ya think you can take, doll?”

“I can take anything you throw at me.”

A quirk of her brow is seen as she looks back at you, but you seem perfectly content and honest in your answer. So she shrugs with one shoulder, trying not to grin as she grabs one of her bigger ones. ”Whatever you say.”

The cock in question is one her odder shaped ones. Marbled with black and gold colorations, with an almost tapered, rounded head that went into the same thickness and bulged with a bigger thickness as it edged the balls. It was thick enough to not be able to touch your fingers when they circled around it, but not too long to make up for its thickness. It was about seven inches total in usable length, definitely enough for you to feel it in total, but wouldn’t kill you. This time around at least.

Once it’s all in place, she moves back to you. Relishing in how you stare a bit too obviously at the cock and where there was a small tube running to her hip where a syringe was full of white, thick lubricant to act as cum. You’re not looking for too long, your head soon thrown back and to the side against her chest as she tucks up against you to lubricate her fingers and begin stretching you out.

You take it like a champ, turning your head into her shoulder as three fingers twist and curl into you. You cum against her fingers like this, humping against her palm and making noises she’d thought she’d only ever hear in her dreams. Your face gets peppered with kisses, even as your lips part and you whine and sob for her as she keeps finger fucking you open. Only when you beg and plead does she finally stop.

Soon the position is moved and she’s under you with your shaky thighs straddling her hips and your hands gripping her shoulders. The second you start lowering yourself down you let out a choked noise as her hands squeeze your hips, a predatory grin crossing her features when you make the prettiest face and hold still. “Aw, what’s the matter, baby? Too big for my girl?”

Your head bows forward in embarrassment, but she’ll hand it to you, you still keep going. Lowering yourself down, down, down until your pelvis is flush with hers and your nails digging into her shoulders. Anita strokes over your curves, down your hips and thighs and back up with soft, praising croons as your thighs quake. “That’s my girl. Good girl. You’re doin’ alright, baby, I gotcha. Just adjust, okay? Don’t worry about anything else.”

Once you’re able to adjust, her hands find yours and lace your fingers. Watching how beautifully you bounce on her cock, your hands squeezing hers and using her as leverage. The moans and whimpers leaving you make her tempted to roll you over, but she’s far too entranced with how your chest bounces, how pretty your face looks when your head falls back and you murmur her name. When her eyes fall down to your waist, she can watch your greedy little cunt take her cock again and again, making her mouth dry at the sight.

“Anita-” You whimper out her name in the prettiest tone, squeezing her hands with a quiver to your lips. Your hips are stuttering, looking a bit more frantic as you bounce on her cock and making Anita sigh at the sight. ”Anita, baby, please, I-I-”

Anita shushes you, releasing your hands to catch you in time and rolling you over quickly onto your back. Your legs wrap around her waist, her nails digging into your outer thigh and her lips catching yours to swallow your cries down as she pounds her hips into you. When you break the kiss, your nails are dragging down her back, your face burying into her shoulder to sink your teeth and making her grunt as you cum.

But Anita doesn’t stop there, only letting you catch your breath briefly as you lie back, an arm tossed over your forehead and heavy panting falling from you. Anita sits up, grabbing your hips and yanking you flush to her to fill you again with a jump to your hips and a cry. “Oh, baby, I’m not even close to done with you.” She promises, a dimpled grin on her face when you peek at her with such a helpless look.

From there you’re fucked again, starting off with slow, powerful thrusts to build you back up until you’re in that lost state again. Your eyes rolling back and fingers fisting the sheets as she fucks into you with precision. You’re yanked against her with each thrust, making your toes curl and those pretty sounds leaving your lips again that by this point are driving her crazy. She feels like a starving woman who finally got a meal again. She supposes that’s what yearning for so long did to her.

“What’s the matter, baby? Wanna be bred by my cock?” She croons out when you sob, tears pricking your eyes as they roll back. Anita thinks you’ve never looked more at home- let alone tamed in your life when you keep murmuring ‘please’ and ‘yes’ and her name as if you’ve forgotten every other word.

When you cum this time, she makes sure to press down on the syringe this time to fill you up just like what you keep pleading for. This happens two more times, fucking you in a new position and filling you up. The last one ending with you on all fours, your hair being pulled and your entire body trembling when you cum again.

You’re soon cleaned up, flopped on your side without an inch of feistiness or brattiness in your gaze. You look worn out when Anita returns to you after finishing cleaning herself up as well, returning to bed with herself in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and offering for you to sit up so she can clothe you.

She makes sure to kiss everywhere she’d bitten or bruised as she pulls the large t-shirt over your head. Pulling the lounge pants up your hips and lying in bed with you, bringing your head to her chest and kissing your forehead adoringly. “You all good, princess?”

“Mmmmhhhmmmm.”

“Nothing hurt?”

“Nuh-uh.”  

“Ready to get some sleep then?” Anita laughs out softly, feeling you squeeze sleepily around her middle and nosing at her chest with another affirmative sound followed by your breath deepening. Damn, quick sleeper, huh?

Well. At least she knows a fun way to get you to stop acting like such a brat, Anita thinks with a smirk. But her thoughts shift when you squeeze her a little tighter, feeling you absentmindedly kiss at her and mumble something to yourself before settling again. Her heart pounds, looking down at you with such an adoring gaze and feeling on top of the world.

Damn. She really was wrapped around your finger.

[syntheticpoetry]

The Ghosts That We Knew

See my original post on the origins of this story here!

Summary: Blaine Anderson is no stranger to hospitals and has been volunteering on the pediatric unit of Lima General Hospital for years when Kurt Hummel comes along.  After Blaine is attacked at his school's Sadie Hawkins Dance, he has his best friend Kurt to help him deal with the aftermath. And when Kurt becomes the target of the McKinley football team's bullying campaign, he can count on Blaine to have his back.

AU where Blaine transfers to McKinley instead of Dalton. Set during season 1.A story of two best friends finding courage to face their bullies and discovering love along the way.

Author’s Note: Blaine has a reason he has been in an out of the hospital since childhood that will be revealed, but if you are overly cautious of the level of angst surrounding it I can assure you it's nothing heartbreaking/super serious. It's actually quite common.  I cannot thank @esperantoauthor​ enough for beta reading this for me and really helping me whip it into shape!

AO3 Link || FFN Link

Chapter 1: Of Viral Videos and Disney Princes

The last time that Kurt Hummel remembers being in a hospital, he told his mother that he loved her for the last time.  

That was six years ago.  

As he walks through the lobby, towards the directory by the elevators, he keeps his gaze fixed forward, careful not to spare a glance at the waiting area to his right.  He spent so many months in that waiting room.  Entire seasons, multiple holidays spent watching people receive good news and bad news, with his father stoic and silent beside him as his mother underwent procedure after procedure.  Until it was their turn to be the family that received bad news.  The doctor sounded sincere as he said a lot of big words Kurt could not quite understand at the time, but he understood the look on his father’s face.  He took to studying the ugly designs on the carpet to distract from the tight clench in his father’s jaw, the way he kept himself so still and barely blinked through the entire explanation— Kurt knew, even at eight years old, what it was like to use up all of your willpower to hold yourself together for the sake of someone else.  To this day, he cannot look at paisley print without thinking back to that awful day.

Kurt scans the directory before punching the up button to call the elevator and folds his arms across his chest, tapping his foot as he awaits its arrival.  When he first heard about the volunteer program on the pediatric unit he was naturally hesitant to return to the place that held some of his worst memories.  He had been on the fence about it all summer, torn between the desire to give back to the hospital staff that had gone above and beyond in their attempts to cure his mother’s cancer and wanting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the place where they finally had to say goodbye to each other.

Until he saw that YouTube video.  

A curly-haired boy with big doe eyes and an unwavering grin, guitar in hand, leading a Disney themed sing-along with a group of elementary school age kids.  The warmth that spread through Kurt’s chest was almost overwhelming as he watched the boy march around the room performing Hakuna Matata with the parade of children trailing behind, mimicking him raucously and off-key.  It was the first time Kurt had really smiled in a long time.

So he had decided to look into the program.  Mostly because witnessing the boundless energy of pure joy from each child singing along in that video elicited memories of countless nights of living room performances with his own father, both of them puffy-eyed and exhausted but still managing to find the stamina to sing at the top of their lungs, using the furniture as stage props.  They were two lost souls attempting to cling to each other through tidal waves of insurmountable grief, and those nights together— well, those nights wereeverything to Kurt.  He had never felt closer to his father than when they were both breathless and laughing their way through the most eclectic collection of songs imaginable, hugging each other tightly at the end of each performance.  

And if Kurt happened to run into the boy from the video along the way, well, that would certainly just be an added bonus. Kurt did have eyes after all.  And there was no denying the boy’s natural charm or the air of confidence with which he carried himself.  

Truth be told, entering yet another school year with no friends was beginning to take its toll on Kurt and the possibility of finding camaraderie with a cute boy who seemingly shared similar interests was certainly enticing.

Ding!

The doors slide open before him revealing an empty elevator.  Kurt steps in and presses the button for the fourth floor.  He thinks about that video and jumping on armchairs and couches in his living room with his father for the entire ride up.

***

He has to be buzzed in to enter the unit, which he thinks is strange.  But the woman who greets him, a young nurse with bright green eyes and deep auburn hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, explains it is the protocol for all pediatric units in order to prevent children from wandering away or being kidnapped.  There are security bracelets around each patient’s ankle that trigger an alarm if they are taken past a bright yellow line painted on the floor.

“Who would kidnap sick kids from a hospital?” Kurt asks, looking absolutely horrified.

“You would be surprised at how common it is.  Parents fighting over custody, usually.”

He nods and guesses that makes sense, but the thought is still deeply unsettling.

The hallways are empty as she leads him to a room behind the nurse’s station.  The unit is certainly much different from the one his mother had been on.  The walls are covered in murals of different cartoon characters and scenes from popular storybooks.  While the nurse punches in a code, Kurt studies a painting of Rapunzel in a high stone tower, golden plaited hair strung over the edge of the window for a handsome prince at the bottom. The door buzzes and she holds it open for him.  “I’ll let my supervisor know you���re here.”

Kurt thanks her and takes a seat at one of the tables to wait.  On the far wall he spots a bulletin board covered in an overabundance of overlapping photos, hand-drawn pictures and a variety of cards both homemade and store-bought.  He casts a quick glance towards the door before crossing the room to investigate.  He cannot help but smile as he scans over the collection of memories, reminiscing back to his own pile of hand drawn cards for the staff on the oncology unit.  

Then something catches his eye.  

It’s the curly haired boy from the video.  He’s standing, guitar in hand with the strap over his shoulder, in the center of a group photo, surrounded by children of varying ages and the unit staff.  His outfit is different from the one in the video though.  He’s wearing baggy sweatpants and a printed T-shirt, only the edges of the otherwise obscured design visible from behind the guitar over his torso.  In the video he had certainly seemed more, well, put together, to say the least.  He had worn light grey slacks and a navy polo shirt accented with a white bow tie, which Kurt could not help but notice because he could count on one hand the amount of teenage boys he had ever seen wearing bow ties in the state of Ohio, himself included.  

Kurt wonders how often he comes by to visit and volunteer.  Maybe there is a chance they will be able to meet after all.

The faint beeping of the key code and jiggling of the door handle to his left draws his attention and he turns in time to see an older woman with ashy blonde hair and huge round glasses that take up half of her face walk in.  Her scrub top is printed with different Winnie the Pooh characters.  She smiles and approaches him, extending her hand.  “Hi, you must be Kurt.  I’m Jeannie; we spoke on the phone last week.”

“Oh! Yes,” Kurt shakes her hand.  “Nice to meet you.”

“Shall we?” She gestures to a table and Kurt takes a seat opposite her.  “So we just have to get some paperwork in order and then we can take a little tour around the unit so you can meet the kids.”

“Okay.”

“This is your first time volunteering, right?” She opens a Manila folder and begins rifling through a large stack of papers.

“Yes.”

“What drew you to it?”

Kurt steals a glance towards the bulletin board, lips curling up into a half-smile.  “I heard about it through my school a few months back, but honestly? I spent a lot of time visiting my mom in this hospital when I was a kid and when me and my dad would get home he would always try to cheer me up.  We put on a lot of concerts for my stuffed animals in our living room.  And I mean… like a lot .”  

Her eyes are soft as she listens, a piece of paper held loosely between both hands just inches off of the table, almost forgotten, and gives him an empathetic smile.

“I saw that video of the Disney sing-along online and I just really wanted to be a part of it, helping kids, especially with music, because it’s really helped me through some tough times.”

“Well,” She straightens up and slides the paper across the table towards him, “I think the kids will really love having you around.  Do you play any instruments?”

“Never missed a piano lesson,” Kurt says, grinning.  “But mostly, I love to sing.”

The paperwork consists of a lot of signatures.  Kurt is not to discuss any of the patients or their health conditions with others in order to maintain privacy regulations, not to post anything to social media without permission, and just a lot of general information about the hospital’s protocols such as what to do in the event of emergency scenarios (of which there are many ).  By the end of it, Kurt has a pretty sizable stack of papers to take home with him and a dull cramp in his wrist.  

“I know it seems like a lot of information, but nothing you have to memorise.  You’ll always be with other staff members who will guide you through every step of the way.”

Kurt releases a nervous laugh, “Okay, good.  I can save my highlighters for school work then.”

***

Jeannie leads the way to the playroom which, she explains, is a safe space for all the children on the unit that remains open every day until 7 p.m.  No medications or treatments are allowed to be administered to a child in the playroom, they must be brought out first.  There are about ten kids inside, ranging from toddlers to older teens, all of whom have seemingly gravitated towards splitting into their own little cliques based on ages.  As soon as they enter the room two of the younger kids, a boy and girl no older than three or four, look up from a mountain of blocks and start crying.  Kurt casts an alarmed glance at Jeannie.

“It’s okay, you can keep playing.” Jeannie kneels down and stacks a loose block onto their small tower.  “Everyone, this is Kurt, he’s going to be coming by to help out and spend some time with all of you.” She stands up and backs away from the two toddlers with the blocks to stand beside Kurt again.  

“It’s the uniform,” she says quietly to him.  “Some get scared when they see us come into a room cause it usually means it’s time for medicine or treatments.”

“Hi, Kurt!” A small girl with bronze skin, a round face, and long thick black hair comes over and takes his hand.  “I’m Melanie! You wanna come draw with me?”

She does not wait for an answer before she starts tugging on his hand and walking back towards a small rectangular table covered with construction paper and crayons.  She climbs into one of two plastic blue chairs which are far too tiny for Kurt to fit in, so he sits on the floor beside the table, crossing his legs.  Melanie slides a piece of yellow construction paper towards him and pushes a pile of crayons into the middle for them to share.

“Did you draw all of these?” Kurt picks up a red crayon and starts sketching.

“Yes! My daddy brought my big brother to visit and we draw together,” she says, shading in what looks like a sunflower with a purple crayon.

“They’re very beautiful; I like that one a lot.” Kurt taps the one she is currently working on.  “I’ve never seen a purple sunflower before.”

“I’m gonna invent them one day,” she says matter-of-factly.  Kurt smiles and returns to his sketch of a new outfit design that has been floating around his mind for the past week.  

“Woah!”

Kurt begins to lift his head up to locate where the voice has come from when he spots movement beside his left elbow.  To say the boy is small would be an understatement.  He is tiny .  A pale, skinny little thing dressed in Batman pajamas that look two sizes too big on him.  He has wide, bright blue eyes and is wearing a charcoal grey beanie.  Clutched between his toothpick arms is a stuffed rabbit with drooping ears the size of its entire body.  

“Hello,” Kurt says as the boy leans forward to peer at his drawing.

“You can draw,” the boy says, clutching his rabbit closer.  

“Would you like to draw with us?”

“Can’t draw,” he says.

“Oh, I bet that’s not true,” Kurt says and holds out the crayon to him.  “Everyone can draw.”

The boy looks at the crayon then up to Kurt and shakes his head shyly before raising the bunny up to his chin, hugging it tightly.

“What’s your name?” Kurt asks.

“Jason,” he says quietly.

“Well, would you like to watch me and Melanie draw?”

“I’m really good.” Melanie looks up at him.  “You can sit next to me, I’ll show you.”

Kurt spends the next hour drawing with Melanie while Jason continues to peek curiously between them.  The other kids begin to trickle out of the room, some led by nurses, some by visiting family members.  Pretty soon, only the three of them are left until Jason’s mother comes in to collect him.  Before he leaves, Kurt holds out a piece of paper to him.

“Something tells me you like Batman,” Kurt says as Jason’s eyes widen at the image of a child-sized Batman with bright blue eyes.  “How about next time you can draw me?”

“Okay.” Jason grins, slipping the picture between his stuffed bunny and his chest to hold it there safely.  “But you’re gonna look like a potato.  I really can’t draw.”

It is the most Kurt has heard him speak all afternoon.  Something about the way he talks contradicts the way he looks. Kurt wonders how old he actually is; the boy looks smaller than most five year olds he’s seen but definitely talks like an older child.  Kurt makes a mental note to find out next time.  “Deal.  I can’t wait to see it.”

Jason’s mom gives Kurt a parting smile before she shepherds her son away.  Soon after, Melanie’s nurse comes to collect her as well, leaving only Kurt and Jeannie in the empty playroom.

“That went well,” she says.  “You’re a natural with them.”

Kurt beams back at her, a sense of pride swelling in his chest.  

After his dad comes to pick him up, Kurt spends the entire car ride home filling him in on the events of the day, excluding Jason and Melanie’s names.  He goes to bed that night with his mind already buzzing with activities for the next visit.

***

Kurt starts volunteering two days a week after school and over the course of the next month, he becomes very familiar with some of the regular kids on the unit.  Jason, he discovers, is actually nine years old, has leukemia and is in his final round of chemotherapy by the first week in October.  Melanie has sickle cell anemia and had been hospitalized for something called ‘sickle cell crisis’— she had gone home two weeks after they first met, but Kurt learns that she usually returns frequently for the same problem.  There’s a teenage boy not much older than Kurt is, but taller and skinnier with jet black hair and sad eyes, named Julian who has cystic fibrosis— he usually keeps to himself, oftentimes choosing to sit in the back corner of the playroom and silently watch everyone else.  

The rest have been a whirlwind of faces and names with a variety of issues such as pneumonia, appendicitis, broken bones and asthma attacks.  There have also been quite a few cases of children who have come in with injuries as a result of abuse at home, more so than Kurt would have imagined actually occurred.  He finds trying to interact and engage with those kids to be the most heartbreaking.

Some of the kids are not as keen to warm up to him as others, keeping to themselves or staying with their families while Kurt leads sing-alongs, painting lessons, hosts movie nights, and reads aloud during story time.  He has developed a steady routine in the five weeks since he began volunteering.  So on the Tuesday during the second week of October he waves hello to the security personnel by the front entrance like he usually does.  He rides up the same elevator and is buzzed into the unit by Rosie, the first nurse he met with the auburn hair.  And with his usual wide smile in place, he strolls into the playroom with a new four-pack of Disney themed puzzles under his arm.  

But when he walks in, the kids are already sitting in a circle, staring up at a boy with loosely gelled curls coiffed into a fluffy side part, bright hazel eyes, and a sapphire acoustic guitar perched on his lap. Kurt is caught completely off guard as he realises, Oh god, it’s him! It’s the guy from the video!

He looks shorter in person than Kurt assumed.  In both the photo on the bulletin board and the video his hair was ungelled and wild.  Kurt vividly remembers his dark curls bouncing as he bopped his head along to the music while impersonating Timon and Pumba for the younger kids.  He’s dressed in another carefully selected outfit though— bright red pants, a black polo and a white bow tie with black polka dots on it.  

“Kurt!” A few of them yell excitedly.    

“Ah, so you’re the famous Kurt I’ve been hearing so much about,” The boy with the guitar says, that same unwavering grin already in place.  “Nice to finally meet you, I’m Blaine.”

[scarletwinterxx]

Timeless pt.2

this was a fun chapter to write, plus a little added bonus pic. Hope you like it! -A

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART TWO.5 || PART THREE || PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX || FINALE

It wasn’t a secret that I was engaged to be married, but I also wasn’t telling it left and right every chance I get. So when the news got out, courtesy of our parents,  I was bombarded with a mixture of congratulatory messages and a whole lot of who is the guy I’m getting married to. 

One morning, the news was apparently announced to the world with no warning given to me or my fiancé. To say I was taken aback would be an understatement. 

The first one to corner me was my long time friend, Soo Young or who also goes by the name of Joy. 

“WHY IS IT SUDDENLY BROADCASTED TO THE WORLD?” were her first words to me when she saw me walking across the field

“What’s being broadcasted?” I asked back

“That you’re engaged! I know it’s not a secret but it’s literally on the news” 

I admit it was too early for me to process her words, and I wasn’t aware they were going to make such a big announcement about it. 

“My engagement?” I asked again repeating what she just told me, clearly still very confused “So you didn’t know they were going to announce it today? Oh wow, I feel bad” Joy said, she took her phone and scrolled through it before passing it to me,

Just like she said it was already announced online, 

“Son and Daughter of Business Magnates engaged to be married: Son of chairman of Kim Industries and current COO: Kim Doyoung and the daughter of the current chairman of Lee Tradings Corp was announced to be engaged and soon to be married. Sources say that the two have been close friends since childhood and it was no surprise that the two would end up together...”

“Did they really have to include a whole story-telling portion to it?” I asked then passed her phone back to her

“Does this mean the wedding is close? I mean I know it’s some time after graduation” she said as we walk towards campus

“Yea, our mom’s are probably already planning it behind our backs as we speak. We said we wanted to talk about it first, Doyoung and I, before we settle on anything but I guess they decided to announce it”

“Is it bad that I feel bad for you?” this question made me turn to my friend, 

“Why?”

“Because why would you want to put yourself through something like that? I know you and Doyoung are friends and all but don’t we all deserve to atleast choose who we end up it” Joy had a point and I know she only means well. 

There was no malice behind her statement, only concern for me. I appreciate that. 

I’m glad you’re the one I’m marrying

The words Doyoung told me a few nights ago ringing in my head, a ghost of a smile forming on my lips

“It could be worse, don’t you think?” I told her “I like Doyoung, we’re friends. It’s complicated in a very non-complicated way”

“Remember when you confessed-" “I really don’t want to refresh that memory”

She put her hands up, an action that says she wasn’t about to continue her story, a story that involved on too many counts of soju and maybe a bit of tequila. Not that I remember, all I can recall from that night were the stories Joy have told me.

“You got turned down hard” She mumbled under her breath

My face heats up at the memory, still hazy because I had one too many drinks during that time but Joy would not let me live it down. 

“Stop it, I don’t even remember it. All I know from that night is from all the stories you’ve told me”

She had a knowing smile on, something I’ve noticed she has whenever she’s not saying the full story

“There’s something you’re not telling me” I told her, she quickly put on a blank face then walked ahead of me

“Ya Park Soo Young!”

After a very long day of repeated congratulations and thank you’s thrown my way, I was finally on my way home. Just as I was about to exit the building, I see someone from afar. His back to me but I would recognize that profile anywhere. 

I walked quickly to where the guy was, calling him out when I was close enough

“Doyoung? What are you doing here?” At the sound of my voice, Doyoung turned around to face me

“Came here to get you, Your class wasn’t finished yet so I decided to have a look around. Nothing much has changed here” He said while looking around the hallway. 

When you’re in college, people usually don’t care what happens around them if it doesn’t concern them directly. One of the things I love the most about being a college student, most people know how to mind their own business. 

But I think the sight of Doyoung still in his full suit and tie outfit, standing in the middle of the hallway while the rest of us were dressed as casual as we could be on a school day was enough to catch the attention of students passing by. Some even recognized him. 

“You just graduated last year”

He went to the same university as me but he was a year ahead. We hung out when we could but since we had different schedules before we weren’t seen together in campus that much

“My guess is you already heard the news” I told him as we make our way out of the campus

“First thing that welcomed me when I got to the office, where were you?”

“Joy literally ran to me screaming about it” I chuckled “Did they tell you they were going to make an announcement?” I asked but he just shook his head.

When we got to his car, he opened the door for me before walking to the driver’s side

“Where are we going anyways?”

It wasn’t usual that we see each other on weekdays, with him busy at work while I had classes to attend. 

“Just somewhere, are you hungry?” he asked, his eyes focused on the road. I studied his profile for awhile, trying to read his mood at the moment. But it’s Doyoung. Even if I’ve known him for pretty much my whole life there are times he put his walls so high up I’m left with no choice but to wait for him to tell me himself. 

“We can grab dinner, if you want” I suggested, opting on not asking him any other questions.

For the rest of the ride we didn’t really talk that much. The man beside me looked like he was deep in thought, I didn’t dare to disrupt him. I just looked out the window and enjoyed the scenery passing by. 

We decided to eat a ramen place, it was like one of those spontaneous trips you go on and try out places you’ve never been too. When we saw the little restaurant, we decided to stop by and check it out. 

“So what’s this little surprise trip for?” I asked Doyoung after we ordered, it took him a while before he looked up from the menu he was staring at

“Just wanted to get out of the city for awhile”

“You okay? Something bothering you?”

“More like what isn’t bothering me nowadays” he mumbled, he looked like he did need this time away. I didn’t want to ask more questions because he looked like he didn’t want to talk about it but I also wanted him to know I was here to listen.

“If it’s work related, try and not to think about it after you’ve left the office” I said, he looked up at me with one brow raised

“There should be a good work and life balance, just like how you try not to bring your issues at home to the office then shouldn’t be the same way around?”

“I can’t just stop worrying about it”

“Well try atleast when you’re back at your place, if you don’t then you’re just stressing yourself more. Wouldn’t be better for you and more effective if you can get some rest at home” I said, trying to reason out with him

“I’m relaxing right now”

“You don’t look one bit relaxed, Doie. Don’t try and pretend when you’re with me, it’s not going to work” I told him. with this I leaned forward the table to reach across the table. My thumb on the middle of his forehead, trying to tell him not to frown too much

“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that” I mumbled, he was just looking straight at me before taking my hand in his

“You haven’t called me that in a while” He said with a small smile on, his eyes on our hands

“Huh?”

“Doie” this time he looked up at me, I don’t know why I suddenly felt all flustered under his gaze but I couldn’t keep the eye contact and opted to look around the place

“You used to call me that a lot when we were kids” he still has my hand in his, now his thumb was lazily drawing circles on the back of my hand. All I’m hoping for is that right now my hand won’t get all clammy. 

“I still call you that, it’s still your name on my phone” I answered, this time I looked back at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I mumbled, he shot me quick smile and gave my hand a squeeze before letting it go. 

I pulled my hand back, waiting for his answer

“I’m trying to decide whether we should really just runaway”

That was not the answer I was expecting but I also am not sure if he’s being serious or not. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Where would we go anyways? My backyard? I don’t have a backyard anymore” I told him, this time he let out a laugh. We both know what I’m referring to. 

It wouldn’t be the first time, one time when we were kids we decided to ‘runaway’. And by that we mean, hide somewhere in our backyard the whole day. We even packed some snacks, blankets and some toys. I don’t know who convinced who to runaway but we always stuck together. We only separated after we were called inside the house and Doyoung had to go home. 

Those were the days when it felt like 24 hours weren’t long enough to be together, when we were just two kids living in our own world. 

He looked like he was genuinely thinking about where we would go, I almost wanted to tell him to pack his bags and just go.

“This time we won’t have to go home, we can stay out as long as we want, go wherever we want” he said, I just smiled back at him. We didn’t say anything for awhile, just enjoying the silence and each other’s presence. 

“We should decided on a date, for the wedding I mean. If we don’t, our parents might decide for us like they did today” he said, long gone was the smile he wore only a few seconds ago and was now replaced with a more serious look

“Can it be some time around fall?”

“If you want” he told me, “Sounds good and I know you hate hot weather”

“That wasn’t so hard, should we plan the whole thing?” I asked jokingly

“I’ll have to see my schedule, see if I could squeeze you in”

“Yah, this is your wedding too. Make time for your future wife”

“I’ll give you an hour to present, how about that?” he asked, this time looking less serious. Less like COO Kim Doyoung and more like just my Kim Doyoung

“That’s all the time you can give me? I might have to re-think this marriage Mr. Kim”

“An hour and another dinner date, how about that?” 

Good thing I was looking down at the food on the table because when he said the word date my eyes went big as saucers. 

I cleared my throat before giving him a reply, praying that he won’t see my burning cheeks

“Is this how it’s going be? you bargaining with me? You know you always do that” 

“You always say yes to me, so it’s not really my fault” he replied, I could see the smile he was wearing and I wanted to say yes to him over and over again just to see it again. 

[mysticmelove]

Hello! Can i request the rfa+v where the mc gets jealous because her partner is paying more attention to somebody else (doesnt have to be the classic clingy woman) so she feels left out and gets upset?

Jealousy

(RFA+V x MC)

.

Yoosung:

- You couldn’t blame him for focusing his attention elsewhere; he had finals coming up and MC- as much as he loved her- was a hunge distraction to him.

- He wasn’t ignoring MC but he’d spent a lot of time at school after classes and when he got home he was quick to call up his friends and they began to study and revise. MC appreciated his devotion to pass, yet it felt as if he were actively avoiding her.

- “Yoosung~” MC swung her head around the door, her boyfriend was sat at his desk, pen in his hand, and laughing at some joke with his friends over the phone. “Yoosung,” he turned to face her, his eyes widened in question as to what she wanted. “I was thinking we could go watch a film or something?”

- He sighed: “I’ve got to study if I want to pass.” He stretched his hands over his head and gave a warm smile, before turning back to his desk and continuing his prior conversation.

- It wasn’t as if MC thought she should be the most important thing in Yoosung’s life, he was a student who needed to pass his exams, but some time or recognition would have been nice. He was weeks into his exams and, with each passing day, he only grew more distant and focused on his text book. MC had spent many nights questioning when she’d get her Yoosung back.

- It’d be hours before he came to bed- the early hours of the morning in fact.

- Admittedly, he was very careful when he climbed into the bed but MC was quick to stir, walking up slightly agitated.

- “I’m sorry...” Yoosung whispered gently as he tucked himself in next to her.

- She groaned, turning into his chest. A quiet hum left her as she kissed his neck, “I miss you...”

- “What do you mean?” Yoosung questioned as he stroked a hand through her hair.

- “I want your attention, Yoosung,” she whined, “You’ve got me jealous over some books.” MC’s hands trailed his chest and he could only laugh slightly.

- “I’ve never seen you like this.” She only let out another groan in response, placing a firm fist against his chest. Yoosung straightened up, clearing his throat and receiving her clear warning signs. “...I’ll cut down on my hours studying if that’s what you want... Just tell me next time.”

- “I didn’t want to stop your studying.”

- “You’re more important to me than any exam,” he kissed her temples with care before drifting into his much needed sleep.

Zen:

- Opening night was drawing ever closer and MC only saw less and less of Zen. He was working his absolute hardest to prepare himself for the first run of his new musical but it was proving heavy on their shoulders. He missed her and she missed him.

- The theatre was next to two hours away so, with the first show a mere week away, Zen opted to stay in a hotel much closer.

- The apartment became lonely. Evenings were silent and boring. MC was beyond lonely by the time he had been gone for a few days. God forbid Zen would be too busy to make any time to call her during the day; it felt as if she couldn’t be the true girlfriend she wanted to be.

- Though, being able to keep up to date with him through social media was a bonus. He was always smiling with the rest of his cast, up to no good backstage, and just generally having fun. His fellow actors were as happy as him too, including Kyungju for a matter of fact.

- Their scandals were behind them, and it wasn’t the first time they’d acted together since, but it always felt slightly strange to MC. She trusted Zen complete but it was hard to watch the two of them together. However, it wouldn’t be long until it’d be the two of them together.

- His long awaited call adorned her ears the night before the show: “Jagi, I’m sorry it’s so late. Rehearsals ran over again.” Zen’s voice was thick with exhaustion, it was deep and the tiniest bit hoarse, yet it carried immense amounts of love.

- “You need to rest well.”

- “Kyungju suggested we should go out to dinner this evening as a celebration.”

- MC’s chest rang out in pain, god she’d kill to be in a position where she could go out to dinner with him. “Oh...”

- “You don’t want me to go, do you?” He must have heard it all in her tone alone. “...If it’s because it’s Kyungju you really don’t need to–”

- “No! No, I trust you completely,” MC cut him off immediately. She trusted Zen more than she trusted anyone else around her, he could go wherever he wanted with whoever he wanted. “It’s just... I really miss you...”

- He sighed sympathetically: “I know and I miss you too, Jagi. But we can be together tomorrow and I promise you’ll be my entire focus after the show.”

- She looked to the clock and groaned, “24 hours...”

- “Only 24 hours. Just know I’ll be waiting patiently.”

- MC couldn’t help but smile, Zen could make anything positive without trying. “If you put it like that...”

- “Then there’s nothing to worry about and I’ll have my arms wrapped around you before you know it.”

Jaehee:

- “The person you are calling is currently unavailable, to leave a—”

- MC let out a mighty groan as she put the phone down. Jaehee had spent so many hours meeting with investors over the past few weeks that MC had began to question if she was even living with anyone else. She’d be out before MC was up, come home while she was at work, and would rarely make it home to eat dinner together.

- It wasn’t as if the café needed investors, it was standing well on its own two feet, but they’d be appreciated no doubt. So Jaehee set out to make it happen, taking the lead- having had much more experience in business itself- and it was tearing MC apart.

- She could only take so many nights eating alone and working shifts in the café without someone who understood how things should ran. Jaehee was her rock at the end of the day.

- Restless, she picked up the phone again- it’s not as if there was anything else she could try. It rang for a minute or so, seeming like another useless attempt, until she finally answered. MC shot up from her chair, “Jaehee!”

- “Good morning to you too, MC,” she laughed cheerfully.

- “Actually, it’s the afternoon now, my love.”

- “My bad,” she sighed on the other end of the line as she collected all of her paperwork. “To what pleasure do I owe your phone call?”

- “Maybe because I wanted to talk to my absentee girlfriend?” MC humoured, though it was no joke. A laughed echoed down the line but she continued to talk, “I’m being serious, Jaehee.”

- She knew all too well of what her partner was talking about, she felt bad about how little they’d really seen one another. “I know... I have a few spare hours, how busy is the café?”

- “Eh... I’m on my break so whether on not there’s customers makes no difference to me.”

- “MC,” she scolded.

- “I know. I’m sorry...” She fiddled aimlessly with her hair as she gazed out of the window. “Just find time to come and see me, please?”

- Jaehee let out a little laugh, “I’ll be there before your break is over, okay.”

- “Perfect.”

Jumin:

- Jumin was a loyal man, without a doubt in anyone’s mind, but the same couldn’t be said for the people around him. MC would never question his motives; unfortunately, for obvious reasons, he managed to draw in women who weren’t as loyal as himself. They wanted his wealth, his ability to provide. On this occasion, it was the new assistant.

- Maybe it only irked MC this time because she ultimately could spend hours around her husband when MC wasn’t around. Still, her gut told her that the new assistant just couldn’t be trusted.

- They’d met for the first time only weeks after she’d been employed; the woman could be read almost immediately. She was heavily focused on her looks- probably having had some type of cosmetic surgery- and used it to draw eyes, hence the way she left her cleavage so clearly visible in the office. She hadn’t even recognised MC at first, telling her Jumin was unavailable until MC made it clear that her presence wouldn’t inflict on her husband’s work. The mention of the word ‘husband’ had left the assistant in shock, resided back to her own desk. His assistant avoided anything of MC from that point onwards.

- As of recent, Jumin had spent more hours in the office than he had in the penthouse and, having felt she needed to draw her husband’s focus back to reality, MC thought it’d be best to pay him a visit. Not to mention she really just wanted the chance to keep his assistant in check. Her trust remained with Jumin, yet she worried for what might happen if she didn’t remind him of her own needs. She needed him.

- She wore his favourite dress, and she wasn’t afraid to enter his office without hesitation. Truth be told, she didn’t even bother to see if he were inside.

- She was greeted with the sight of her husband at his desk and his assistant stood opposite him. Jumin’s words fell silent as she entered, turning all focus to her: “My love, to what do I owe you the pleasure?”

- “I wanted to spend more time with you,” she hummed as she passed the other female, “You can just act like I’m not here.” MC perched herself on his lap and fiddled with his hair; he returned a dangerous glare, his lips in a small smirk.

- “You wear my favourite dress and you think that can happen. I expect more from you, MC.”

- “I’m sorry to interrupt,” his assistant cleared her throat, “but we were in the middle of something.”

- Jumin’s eyes shot holes through the woman, placing a reassuring hand on his wife’s thigh. “Assistant Choi, you may take your leave.”

- She bit at her lip as she pleaded: “But—”

- “Jumin~” MC’s eyes gazed lovesick at the man, “Elizabeth and I just want to spend more time with you at home..”

- The director cleared his throat, taking his wife’s hand but his gaze never leaving his assistant. “Assistant Choi. Please take your leave, and let it be known I want my hours cut down next week,” his eyes moved to his wife, “No exceptions.”

Seven:

- With Saeran in the hospital, Seven’s point of focus was all over the place. MC knew he wasn’t ignoring her in any way, he was just finding it hard to balance and make sense of everything around him.

- His work had been abandoned at the drop of a hat (much to Varderwood’s disapproval, but still he understood) and Seven was just all around hard to talk to.

- There’d be days where things would seem relatively normal, he’d embrace MC and talk as if nothing had happened; other days he’d reside within himself for hours on end. He’d sit beside his brother’s hospital bed for longer than MC could keep tract of, sometimes talking, most of the time as quite as a mouse. It pained her to watch him suffer like this. She wanted him to be happy and she wanted to be the couple he’d promised they could be.

- It was incredibly selfish for her to say she ‘missed him’ when he was still technically around, but Seven just wasn’t the same. He was a shell of himself. It was like he was reliving his trauma day in and day out, and she hated it. Alas, all she could do was watch. Watch his empty gaze look through everything. Watch him weep at his his brother’s side. Watch him lay awake for hours each night.

- That night was no different, however he hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. MC eyes had long since grown sore from staring at her book in an attempt to keep herself awake- maybe if she waited it out he’d join her. She prayed he would crawl into their bed, hold her close, and tell her everything would be okay, yet she knew it would be her job to do the comforting.

- She crept silently into his office as the clock struck 1am. His monitor was on before him, the content of the hard drive V had given him displayed on the screen. MC whispered gently as she lent over the back of his chair and onto his shoulders, “Seven... Come to bed.” He only sighed, the dark bags under his eyes masking any emotion. She tangled her fingers within the mess of his knotted, red hair. A pitiful smile adorned her, “You need sleep, Saeyoung...”

- “...I’ve fucked everything up, haven’t I...” A thousand yard stare was all he could manage.

- MC moved around to stand between him and the monitor, her fragile hands cupped his cheeks gently. “You can’t blame any of this on yourself.”

- His eyes were slow as they moved to find hers, he tried his best to smile at her. “...I don’t deserve you,” his voice was thick with pain, tears welling in his bloodshot eyes.

- “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” she cooed as she swiped away the stray stands of hair on his forehead.

- He raised his hand to meet the one she held on his flushed cheek. Tears made his face wet as his eyes crinkled shut, “I’ll be better for you, MC. I swear I will.”

- She was taken aback by his words. He was being the best he could physically manage right now, but that wasn’t to say she didn’t want the Seven she had fallen in love with back. “Let’s just– Let’s just go back to bed, okay?”

V:

- Jihyun would travel often- sometimes with MC, sometimes alone as to clear his head. The latter was tolling on MC however. He could travel for months at a time, locating to remote places where she couldn’t reach him. She loved his handwritten letters dearly, of course, but they could never really compare to having him around.

- It was only natural for MC to then react when V mentioned he’d be travelling again, by himself this time.

- “I’ll be back in two months, sweetheart,” He cooed gently to the woman pouting at the table sat opposite him. “You know the time flies and I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”

- MC pushed her plate away, she’d lost her appetite all of a sudden. “...I’ll know.”

- “Oh MC,” he tried to laugh it off as he stretched out a hand to her, “please don’t make me feel guilty.”

- “That’s not what I’m trying to do...” Perhaps she was, if he felt guilty maybe he’d realise a few things and the could remain together. Hell, she’d be happy if he cut his trip down to a few weeks, rather than the torment of two months. “It’s just hard when you’re not here...”

- V fell silent. Admittedly, MC rarely spoke up about her distaste for his travels. He needed to clear his mind, yes, but she needed him more. No amount of trips were really going to ‘clear his head’; all he really had to do was put past events (especially Rika) behind him, rather than this endless running. MC knew this. V also knew, but he lived on acting as if he didn’t. “You know I’ll be back.”

- “And when you think of her you’ll run away again...” She clasped his hand with her own, holding on as if he would leave then and there, “...Jihyun, I want you to be happy with me here.”

- “I am, MC.”

- “So why does she still bother you so much?” She wanted to explode with all her pent-up anger but that wouldn’t help either of them. MC withdrew he hands from the table and clenched them at her sides. “Can you just... let go?”

- V fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt, his eyes not reaching hers, “I’m trying... It’s just all the guilt wells inside of me and–”

- “Then let me help you instead of running away.” MC’s tone dropped, it became more soothing yet underlined with pain: “This place is so lonely and desolate when you’re not here. Jihyun, I need you here.”

- He heard the strain of her voice, he couldn’t forgive himself. “I’ll stay...”

[razberryyum]

A Gintama chapter a day keeps the ending away...Lesson 669

Beautiful bonus chapter image:

MY 14 FAVORITE MOMENTS IN LESSON 669:

And thus, the time skip begins. This chapter really put me through a gamut of emotions: confusion, relief, fear, disappointment, resignation, hope, elation...mostly confusion, because I didn’t know if I should even believe the time skip.  Honestly, even now, after all this time, I am still not sure if I can 100% believe it, or if Sorachi-sama will somehow pull the rug out from under us once again and it all turns out to be Shinpachi’s Owl Creek Bridge moment right before death. I know too much has happened to really support that theory but once in a while, I still get nervous. 

1) I remember clearly thinking, “wtf??”

2) More “wtf???”

3) And then I was relieved that we were getting a flashback to what actually happened...also that Gintoki didn’t actually dive into the Altana pool to rescue Utsuro after all. 

4) Seriously, considering this scene alone, they should all be dead. It pretty much looks like they were being blasted away. Shinpachi’s words about the Earth dying and being reborn didn’t really help either.

5) I found some comfort in the fact that some things never change no matter how much time has passed: the shop owner was still a dick and the cheetahs were still assholes.

6) And thankfully, some things DO change.

7) HE LOOKED SO HANDSOME!!! I swooned a little.

8) And then my swooning was over and I just felt bad...especially since I actually laughed a little at the surprising twist.

9) Omgggg poor Pachi-kun.

10) Poor guy really never gets any break.

11) The Yorozuya looked so empty and lonely that my heart actually hurt, and then for a quick second, I remember feeling true fear because I was worried about why it was so empty and lonely.

12) When I first saw this photo, I actually completely missed the fact that Sadaharu was in the back! I feel so bad about that so I am including this image as my favorite moment now as an apology.

13) Thank the gods and Sorachi-sama that we didn’t have to wait long to find out that both Gin-chan and Kagura survived. I didn’t even mind the fact that Gintoki was saying good-bye too much because I was just relieved he was still alive.

14) I was of course curious as to why they parted ways, but again, I was so happy that they were still alive, I wasn’t really concerned. I figured as long as they’re drawing breaths, they can still eventually get back together. Although I was a little distressed at the lack of Sadaharu. I remember even thinking that if Gintama had ended like this, even though it would be a bit of a cop out, I would actually not mind because then we can use our imaginations to finish the story. It’s a little crazy that I even though that way at the time, but I think I was just so grateful that my Yorozuya were still alive, and that there was no mention of anyone else being dead that I was willing to accept anything.

SHIPS TALLY:

Gintoki x Hijikata & Okita x Kagura: see moment #4. What I said for the last chapter still stands: at least my two OTPs would have been dying together. Sometimes that’s all I could really ask for. 

Disclaimer: Gintama is not only about shipping. Gintama is hilarious, clever, exciting, poignant, heart-breaking, loving, brilliant, and just so freaking amazing.  It is only due to Sorachi-sama’s generosity that I can enjoy Gintama on yet another level, the shippy level, and I am forever grateful for that. GINTAMA IS LIFE AND LOVE.

11/6/2018

[scummy-writes]

So how about if after Saeran route and he was able to go to therapy and get help and everything Saeran and MC open up a flower shop or something.

I got another ask to have just general Saeran flowershop Au’s, so I’m going to include some in this!

—-

“Yo-You really didn’t have to do this.” Saeran takes your hand in his, squeezing tight. “I- I don’t-”

“Shh, I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. Come on, let’s look at the inside together!” You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. When Saeyoung had handed him a small box this morning with you eagerly waiting beside him, he honestly expected nothing more than a personalized ‘coupon’ book from his brother, not a small and rather plain looking key with a bow. At first, he thought maybe it was a key to something simple, or maybe another pun related gift Saeyoung had prided himself in, but as he got in the car with you two and was taken to an area he knew too well-

“Saeran?”

Gently, you give his hand a shake, snapping him from his thoughts. 

“I-I think I’m still in shock, Mc…” He admits. The key feels heavy in his grasp, and if he was right in his assumptions, it was carrying a greater deal of responsibility than he was used to.

“I’m right here, okay? And just because you have this key doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind, but please consider it first?”

Nodding, almost missing what you’re saying due to being so wrapped in his nerves, he finally inserts the key and unlocks the simple green door in front of you.

His first reaction is to hold his breath, trying to feel his heartbeat and look for any tale-tell signs that this is a dream. Trying to understand if his nerves are making him numb.

Then…He takes it all in, and acknowledges that this is real, and it’s with you.

“So, before you outright say ‘no’, which is okay if you decided this isn’t for you, I want you to hear about a few things first,” You start off as he lets go of your hand, slowly walking around the empty and slightly dusty shop. “Don’t worry about the cost of everything, because me and Saeyoung have that all settled out and doing this didn’t make us break the bank. Secondly, I know this is really scary, but once Jumin heard that we were doing this, he said he would be willing to help you learn how to run a business like this successfully. Even Jaehee said she’d help, too!!”

Saeran walks towards the windows, taking in how the afternoon light gives the baren shop a warm and welcoming glow. Even Jumin wouldn’t mind talking to him? It still surprised him with how kind the RFA was to him, despite all that had happened.

“And I know this seems so scary, so that’s why it’s okay if you need to say no, but I…I really don’t want you to say no because you think you don’t deserve this, Saeran.” Suddenly, your arms are wrapped around his waist as you rest your chin on his shoulder, pressed up against his back. “You’ve done so well with therapy, honey… You’re recovering and you’re so strong and so capable of doing this if you want to. You deserve this, even if your anxiety tells you otherwise.”

Saeran smiles, feeling his eyes threaten to water as he slides his hands over yours.

“We would run this shop together?”

“Absolutely, Saeran.”

—-

Some bonus bullet points!

- He most definitely cried when Seven came in to reiterate that Saeran deserved the shop, and there was a three-way hug and small cry fest because Saeran felt so loved and everyone was happy.

- Seven and Mc would have planned this flower shop surprise for Saeran as a double gift! One for all the hard work he had put into making himself healthy, and another for an early birthday present. The birthday present part was more of Seven’s idea, but he really wanted to give his brother a big enough gift to make up for all the past ones that didn’t reach him.

- Jumin would indeed want to help out and wouldn’t do it because of Seven’s badgering, but because he would think that Saeran was capable enough to run a shop if he really wanted to and didn’t mind offering advice. ( listen it might be ooc but the fact that he went out so far in Saeran’s good end aaaaaaaaaa )

- The shop would have a rocky start at first because it would no doubt probably trigger Saeran to relapse into the negative thinking about how he didn’t deserve such a wonderful thing, but eventually, with support he would be able to get the hang of it and go on from there.

- Seven would help out with everything he could, Building things for the store? Helping crunch numbers? Cleaning? Okay well the last part might not be a promise but he would do anything to make Saeran happy with the shop.

- I think honestly the whole Rfa would help out if they could, even if it was just Yoosung buying a small plant to show support or something along those lines. 

- (Seven likes making cheesy gift ‘coupon’ books with promises of favors or hugs or robotic toys for Saeran if he ever uses them. They include small cheesy drawings and bad jokes, and while Saeran might act like they’re too silly at first, he thanks his brother and keeps all of the little booklets.)

[thenichibro]

Spring 2018 Anime First Impressions

Two weeks into the season - basically on schedule by my standards! This season, as always, has ups and downs as well as popular shows I’m not watching (Megalobox) and shows I immediately regret starting (Devils Line). As a further point, I don’t do impressions of sequels, and in this case I’m including Steins;Gate 0 as a sequel because it is so based on the events of the main show. Regardless, here’s what I’m watching with MAL links and original shows marked:

Legend of the Galactic Heroes - Die Neue These (MAL) Look, I'm not going to immediately say go watch the original LOGH, but I'm kidding that's exactly what I'm going to say. LOGH is a masterpiece in every sense of the word. My issue with this series is not that they will not represent the characters badly, but that 110 episodes shoved into 12 episodes and three movies is simply not enough. LOGH has a scale, a grandeur, a weight that is conveyed as you invest yourself into it for hours on end, from bombastic space battles and the minutiae of day-to-day politics. You need both scales, the imperial and the individual, to really experience LOGH, and I feel like 12 episodes isn't enough time to have both. The LOGH remake looks and sounds fine (though with way too much CG and a bit of same-facing with Reinhard and Kircheis), but I am incredibly nervous about the pacing. This is a first impression, and if Production I.G. pulls this off it will be a classic reimagined for a modern audience that deserves it. But I simply don't think that's going to happen. I'm hopeful, but apprehensive. And again, watch the original. It is pure class.

Persona 5 the Animation (MAL) Play the game first. Please.

Devils Line (MAL) A world where vampires exist under the guise of normal people and some lose control and kill under cover of night. Basically Tokyo Ghoul with less of a vampire "society" and more just individual threats, with more of a sexual twist. Tsukasa is our helpless college heroine, adrift as she finishes school, when she finds out the guy who likes her is a serial murderer who wants blood! So wacky! She's saved by Anzai, a calm, collected member of the agency tasked with dealing with vampires, before unintentionally revealing himself a vampire. Yet we are expected to just accept Anzai forcing himself on Tsukasa because he's the savior? Right. Background sound design isn't bad, art/animation are bland and at times awkward. Devils Line is trying real hard to be a new Tokyo Ghoul, but now with more sexual undertones for whatever reason. Pass.

3D Kanojo: Real Girl (MAL) Ah, otaku love. At least it can't be worse than Saekano, right? That'd be a serious challenge. 3D Kanojo follows Tsutsui, an otaku that suffers the typical ostracization of anime, when he meets Iroha, a blunt girl who for once doesn't ostracize him. The first episode has plenty of the classics - falling into a pool, talking about "3D women" being out of his league, heroics when he knows he can't win. Everything you'd expect. By the end of the episode, things progressed a helluva lot more than I expected, in many ways. It seems thus far that the otaku thing is the impetus for Tsutsui's low opinion of himself, rather than anime being the point of the show. More introspective than I would otherwise think, I think 3D Kanojo holds a lot of slight surprises. It's interesting, for sure, and I hope it continues that way.

Tachibanakan Triangle (MAL) One of two short anime I'm watching this season, Tachibanakan follows a girl who moves into a girls apartment complex and gets more yuri than she bargained for.  We've got the fang-sporting short one, the quiet one, the onee-san, the blonde foreigner, you name it. I don't expect a lot of character development or anything similar, but three and a half minutes of yuri sounds just fine to me.

Uma Musume (MAL) First off, props to the show for making the horse girls' names just as stupid as those of real racehorses. I mean, I know it’s because the girls are named after real racehorses, but still. Uma Musume involves a world where horseracing is hugely popular, only the racers are anthropomorphic horse girls. Our main girl is Special Week, a newbie transferring to a popular racing school in Tokyo. She's your typical genki type - eager, energetic, bright-eyed. Enthralled by one of the top girls Silence Suzuka, she aims to become one of the top horse girls in Japan. Oh, and the top horse girls perform as idols after each race. This sure is a mobile game adaptation, god damn. P.A. Works' art looks solid as always (props to the flowing tail animation); the OP and ED are pretty standard idolish stuff. I prefer the ED. Anthropomorphic racing is fine, yet for some reason the idol part is what makes it weird for me. This show is strange, but if it's not much more than cute horse girls doing cute horse girl things, I'll keep paying attention.

SAO Alternative: Gun Gale Online (MAL) I hate SAO. I have a laundry list of reasons that I despised both seasons of SAO. The reason I'm giving GGO a chance is because the main charater is a girl playing a cute chibi girl in-game and she just wants to make friends. Hopefully, that will avoid the terrible pitfall that was anything relating to Kirito. GGO starts right in the action, with a topical Battle Royale mode putting our pink girl and her partner right into the action. The tactics are good and help set up the basic premises of the gametype, if that necessitated a bit too much monologuing by M, the partner. Also, plenty of pouts. Always a bonus. As always the invincibility of the protag is annoying, but I don't really expect breakthrough plot changes from an SAO spinoff. I mean, SAO S1 was good for the first 10 episodes too. Keep this cute girl and not-harem, focus on connecting with others through video games rather than shanking perverts in a parking lot, and it'll be solid.

Hinamatsuri (MAL) A super-powered middle-schooler falls into the life of a nicer-than-normal yakuza. Nitta is the yakuza, with a penchant for fancy porcelain. Hina is the middle-schooler, your typical otherworldly killing machine set into an unfamiliar world. Hinamatsuri puts a lot of good spins on the taking-care-of-a-supernatural-girl trope, with the main character being a yakuza rather than an "average high schooler." Furthermore, there are some nice father-daughter vibes going between the two, though it's clear Hina maintains the upper hand. Won over by Nitta's refusal to use her as just a tool, their life together begins. The comedy is your standard boke/tsukkomi, but the lightning-quick delivery of the lines had me cracking up regardless. Hinamatsuri looks like it could go darker any second, but if it doesn't I'm perfectly content to stay around.

Comic Girls (MAL) Probably the most classic cute girls doing cute things show this season, Comic Girls follows a group of mangaka girls living in a dorm together. Moeta is the worrywart crybaby, Koyume's the genki blonde, Ruki is the less-than-secret pervert, and Tsubasa is the tomboy. There's plenty of nice compliments between the girls' personalities, and Koyume and Moeta seem like a great fit as the newbies in the group. Furthermore, their personalities being informed by the manga they draw allows for a nice exploration of manga cliches through their interactions. This looks to be more on the character-driven side than a deep dive into the logistics of manga production, but that's just fine. Animation and sound aren't really anything special, but they're by no means bad. As a slice-of-life fan I'm all in, even if this show doesn't turn out to be anything super unique.

[ORIG] Tada-kun wa Koi wo Shinai (MAL) Tada-kun follows, well, Tada-kun - a student and photographer who runs into Teresa, a rich European while taking pictures. Tada-kun, following the show's title "Tada Doesn't Fall in Love," has a calm, somewhat stoic demeanor, while Teresa is your bright, beautiful girl finally in the Japan she'd only seen on TV. After meeting multiple times as Teresa wanders lost, Tada helps her out of the rain before she finds her hotel, right next to his family's coffee shop. And then, of course, she transfers into his school along with her bodyguard, the fiery-tempered Alec. The art is crisp and animated well, and both the OP and ED have their charms. I personally like romance focused tightly on a single pair (Tsuki ga Kirei and Ore Monogatari are two stellar examples), and I hope this delivers. With a single couple development becomes the key, but if this show keeps it up - increasing interactions leading to discovered feelings, all starting from a photo (sounds a bit like Just Because, don't you think?), this will be a emotionally engaging experience.

Fumikiri Jikan (MAL) The other short show I'm watching, Fumikiri Jikan is about conversations while waiting for the train to pass. The first episode ran the gamut all the way from peppy slice of life to romantic character drama. Being so tightly focused on conversations and with limited time, a show like this needs to nail the dialogue to set up the characters each episode. I felt like I almost watched a movie in three minutes this time, and that's a good thing. The main sticking point is that with individual stories each time, quality can vary wildly. This show is a bit strange but equally interesting, but it will certainly depend on the story being told.

Wotaku ni Koi wa Muzukashii (MAL) Ah, otaku love. It can't be worse than Saekano, right? That would be a serious challenge. Wotaku ni Koi puts a spin on the genre by situating the main characters as adults who met each other in middle school and just now reconnected. The main cast of four and especially the banner couple Hirotaka and Narumi are uniquely quirky and their personalities gel so well with each other. Despite the long gap in meeting each other I feel the chemistry immediately between the two, and as episode one ends with their relationship actually beginning I'm all in. Not only does Wotakoi change things up by having the main characters as adults but it also gets past all the roundabout bullshit that often bogs down high-school romances. Furthermore, the true enthusiasm with which Hirotaka and Narumi can nerd out about what they like is refreshing, kind of like Animegataris before it became the Matrix. Combine that with a crisp art style and great musical themes, and maybe Wotakoi can provide the grounded otaku love story we've been waiting for. Oh, and fuck the Saekano shout-out. Not that I'm going to let that cloud my thoughts on Wotakoi - I just really, really don't like Saekano.

Golden Kamuy (MAL) This season's "a popular manga is finally getting an anime" show, Golden Kamuy is the story of a soldier and an Ainu girl suriving in the north of Japan in the Ruso-Japanese War era just after the turn of the 20th century. The pair aims to find a hidden treasure, stolen from the Ainu and stashed by a criminal somewhere, with the location hidden on tattoos of various escaped prisoners. I enjoy historical shows, and Kamuy is great in that it is more than just feudal Japan or something similar - the snowy, late-Meiji Hokkaido setting is undoubtedly unique. Sugimoto, the soldier, has earned his nickname "Immortal" due to his war exploits, and his personality shows it - confident in his skills yet cautious of threats. Asirpa, the Ainu, is the resourceful, collected partner Sugimoto needs in the wilds of Hokkaido, and shares Sugimotos motivations, having lost her father to the criminal who hid the treasure. The art is clean, and while the main characters look good there needs to be mention of the awful-looking CG of the two bears and the wolf that make appearances in the first episode. It just looks horrible. The dynamic between Sugimoto and Asirpa is great - the contrast between violence and peace especially - and I look forward to see where they're going. I only wish the overall tone was more consistent - the first episode is a great solemn look at the task in front of them, while the second episode inserts a whole lot of "comedic" moments that seem out of place with the action and Sugimoto himself. Regardless, quick shout-out to Man With a Mission for the OP - one of my favorite bands and this song is no exception.

[edierone]

In Herba Veritas

From a prompt ages ago, a college AU featuring weed; my last remaining WIP -- enjoy!

A week of these buzzing fragrant late-May days where spring’s been shading into summer, the light holding out longer, the air warmer even after sunset. Outdoor study dates, lunches on the steps in the quad, and a tiny little spray of freckles has appeared across Scully’s winter-white collarbones, sweet cinnamon blossoms he imagines are one of the harbingers of the season to come.

He wishes he could look forward to it, this first summer with her, wishes they both had different plans than their actual ones. But next week is finals, then she’s off to this brainiac accelerated pre-med intensive on the opposite coast for ten weeks and he’s so proud of her for being selected that he’s just about bursting with it; also he wants to fling himself directly into the sun from the pain of being separated from her for so long so he doesn’t think about it if he can help it. He’ll be on the Vineyard, for hopefully the last time, working on his thesis in the stifling-hot attic, writing to her every day when he’s had enough of Decoupling Neurodivergence and the Criminal Impulse, having a sad, silent dinner with his mother every evening, going for long runs on the beach in hopes of being able to drop instantly off to sleep at night, alone in a too-short single bed that suddenly feels much too big without her.

But for now — ahh, for now, they do have the now.

He’s coaxed her out here in the almost uncomfortably warm early evening with the promise of stargazing and possibly a meteor shower and/or some UFOs, after a full day of studying — “You could teach these classes yourself at this point, Scully — what you need is a break to let it all sink in,” he’d said, and either his words or the hand skimming lightly over her bared shoulder and glancing her breast through her tank top had been convincing enough to get her into his rattletrap old Volvo for the drive out beyond the city’s light pollution.

Her seriousness has evaporated with the miles. The Volvo last had A/C when he was in high school, and the turbulence from the open windows has pulled wisps of hair from her neat braid. Her smooth pale thigh, exposed beneath the cutoff denim of her shorts, keeps drawing his eye from the road; she slaps his hand away, giggling, and feeds him single M&Ms whenever she pleases.

Seven p.m., and it’s still broad daylight up here on the hill in the un-trafficked county park he’s found to be an excellent place for solitude. They find a relatively flat spot among the wildflowers to spread the blanket he’d dug from the hall closet, then flop onto it it to rest from the hike up. He’s dying to kiss her, but he likes this part, the anticipation, the waiting — they can never keep their hands to themselves for long, though sometimes it’s fun to pretend they’re not definitely about to jump each other’s bones.

Lying on his back a chaste foot or so away from her with his head cradled in his hands, looking up at the clear blue late-day sky, he muses happily, “Shoulda brought some wine or something, huh? Make it more like a picnic …”

“Oh!” she sits up suddenly, pulling her backpack over and rummaging through it. “I almost forgot!” She holds something up, triumphantly — three little wobbly-looking sticks, wrapped in a dining-hall napkin.  

“What are those, cigarettes?” He knew she smoked occasionally, but thought she liked Lucky Strikes, not hand-rolled.

She laughs. “No, square boy — these are from Stoney Dave.”

David Stoney, the really irritatingly good-looking and unreasonably nice rich kid she tutored in Organic Chemistry, had long ago surrendered to the destiny of his name; he often gave out little treats to his friends, which apparently now included Scully. Mulder tries not to sulk.

“Oh, stop,” she says soothingly. “It was a bonus, ‘cause thanks to me, he got an 83 on the lab quiz last week. Relax. In fact … this will help you with that!”

He can’t keep sulking, not while he’s in range of the devilish twinkle in her eyes. She has a way of crowding out the darkness in him, whatever its source or proximate cause (a worrisome thought flits through his brain — oh shit, what’s the summer going to be like without her there to pull me up — but he banishes it immediately).

The problem is, he really is square boy, at least regarding weed — the half-dozen or so times he’s tried it, he’s either felt nothing at all, or gotten really paranoid and freaked out. And frankly, he’s shocked at Scully taking it so casually — she’s got her wild side, but marijuana isn’t just naughty, it’s illegal.

It’s like she can read his mind. “I know it’s technically illegal,” she says with an amused eyeroll. “But if you keep all the little rules, you get to break some of the big ones.” This is something she picked up from Nineteen Eighty-Four — the phrasing, anyway. He suspects she’s always been like this, though, with her color-coded study notebooks and alphabetized shelves, her buttoned-up blouses, perfect attendance at Mass, and unerring ability to be on time for everything always — but underneath it all, her defiant streak, her quick temper, her intellectual adventurousness, the cool blue flame of her sexuality.

She’s not going to guilt him into smoking up with her, or even try to talk him into it, any more than he would her — but as she waits for him to think it through, he realizes he wants to. He feels safe with her; if it makes him paranoid, she’ll take care of him, and if it’s fun, if it opens his mind and loosens his inhibitions, well — who else in the world would he want to be with in that case?

“OK, Cheech, light it up,” he says, with what feels like a pretty foolish grin on his face.

She laughs her wickedly merry little laugh. “Don’t mind if I do, Chong,” she answers, whipping out a cheap drugstore lighter and setting the end of one of the joints ablaze. As it begins smoldering properly, she offers it to him: “Wanna go first?”

“No, no,” he demurs, mock-seriously. “Test it, make sure there’s no paraquat — that’s just good science.”

She shrugs — suit yourself — and takes a nice deep expert-looking drag, holding the smoke in while she passes it to him. He tries his very best to replicate her ease, but knows he probably looks like an FBI agent in bad undercover duds, attempting to crack a teen drug ring. Predictably, his eyes tear up immediately and he coughs harder than an end-stage TB patient.

She giggles, but doesn’t make fun of him, just hands him the Thermos of water and waits for him to recover. His next toke is smoother, and by the time they finish the joint, he’s feeling quite pleasant indeed. Not high, exactly — or maybe he is, yeah, because everything is a little softer around him, and he can’t stop smiling.

“Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I don’t know,” she says, with a slightly spacy smile. “What do you feel?”

“Uhhhh … good,” he answers, and for some reason, this strikes them both as absolutely hilarious. He lays back on the blanket, laughing fit to split. She falls bonelessly onto him at right angles, using his abs as a pillow, and they keep cracking up again every time they think they’re done.

The shadows are getting long when the laughter has finally spent itself and the hyper talking has begun. At some point, Scully sits up long enough to find and light a second joint. They chatter like magpies, jumping from subject to subject, laughing stupidly as they pass the thing back and forth till it’s merely a roach. Then she carefully douses it with water and settles back against him, their bodies forming a comfortable, sloppy T as they quiet down again.

He feels connected, alive, aware, his usually overactive mind surprisingly calm and at ease. They lie there for awhile, senses absorbing everything around them — the sounds of birds, crickets, the warm breeze in the grass; the scents of the evening flowers, the springy soil; the lovely deepening purple of the sky, pink and gold at the edge as the sun sinks below the horizon.

Scully turns sideways, pressing her ear to his stomach, listening with her eyes closed — “I can hear the insides of you,” she murmurs softly. He reaches his hand up — his slightly amazing hand, at the end of an arm that’s longer than he realized — and pets her head, as he would a kitten.

Your hair is soft and pretty, he thinks, his mouth feeling a little too cottony to say it out loud. She makes a sound that’s very like a purr. It buzzes through him, sweet and low, and he realizes he’s half-hard just from that. He almost laughs at the feeling of pride it gives him— well done, reliable young body! — when usually he’s barely tolerant of his own angular awkwardness, shuffling along in a physical frame he has often wished were easier to ignore.

But he’s not ready to do anything about it yet — he feels pleasantly heavy, not willing to move, tethered to the earth and bonded with her, his love. It feels like there’s time for everything, time enough at last. He looks up at the stars and asks her to name constellations. She obliges, lovingly — naming one after the other, pointing with her strong soft capable hand, and as she speaks he can really see them, the shapes they’re supposed to form — she’s a wonderful travel guide. Her voice floats to him dreamily and he starts to drift.

But just as she says “And over there, later in the summer — closer to September, when we’ll be back together again — you could see Vulpecula, the little fox —” he feels a cold finger of dread touch him. It’s the stars. They’re too far away. There are too many of them, it’s too big. And it’s freezing in space. It’s ok for whatever non-human life forms may or may not live out there, but not for people and

oh shit, Sam’s out there

His heart starts pounding, fearful sucking pumps of blood and anguish, circulating hideous sadness a decade old, fermented into something guilty and thick. He’s afraid, so afraid, and he can’t even tell Scully, because if he says anything he’ll infect her with this — this thought virus, this panic — and he has to protect her, like he couldn’t protect Sam —

His body is rigid, his jaw aches, he wonders if whoever took Sam can see him right now.

she’s out there, it’s too big, it’s so cold

“Spooky?”

In his mind it’s like a warm wave of golden sun. He tries to concentrate on her voice.

“Mulder — hey — are you ok?” Stronger now, brighter, but he can’t answer.

She sits up, and he clutches at her — don’t go, don’t you leave me too — but she’s only changing position so she can see him better. She touches his face with one hand, lays the other gently over his hammering heart. Immediately it slows. Oh Scully, sweet Scully …

“The stars,” he mumbles, closing his eyes to keep from seeing their cold glittery twinkling. He feels he has to explain himself, he sounds nuts. “Sam’s up there.”

“Oh honey,” she says, and it’s the sun made into words — or, no, the moon, rising three-quarters full behind her, tawny and huge this low in the sky. She’s never called him honey before and it breaks him, just a little. “Shhh,” she soothes, stroking his cheek, shifting to lie on top of him, her slight weight like the most wonderful, comforting blanket.

He opens his eyes and her face fills his vision almost entirely — everything else recedes to unimportance.

“Just look at me,” she intones softly. “I’m here and I love you and I’m going to kiss you now, OK?” He nods, not even remotely ashamed of the tear that escapes and slides down his temple; his heart is full and it’s spilling over, she knows him and it’s all right.

She dips down to kiss him; at the first touch of her lips on his, the dread vanishes completely, as if it had been a cloud casting a momentary shadow, and now the radiance has returned. He keeps his eyes open, overcome by the delicacy of her eyelids, the smoothness of her skin, the fluttering of her lashes as she sighs into him, sharing breath.

He remembers that he is not tethered to the Earth, not in actuality; his limbs stir at last, his lower body moving to make a cradle for hers, while his arms, his hands, are free to roam — and roam they do, while he marvels at the soft sounds she makes in response to his touch.

He slides the elastic band off of her hair and undoes the long silky braid so that it falls in a curtain on either side of them, it’s like being hidden in a secret cave behind a waterfall with a water sprite, or a mermaid temporarily slumming it on land.

He laughs from the sheer joy of it, and it catches her, too; their kisses grow sloppy and mistimed, which is funny all by itself.

After who knows how long, he realizes she’s been rocking slowly against the bulge in his jeans and it feels so good he’s afraid she might make him come like that. Is that what she wants? He wants to please her, make her feel as good as he does, but how — better find out.

With difficulty he gets her attention, then nearly loses his words as her eyes find his, so full of desire and trust that he feels somehow purified, sanctified by her love. She blinks, waiting, and he finally manages to say, “Can I — can we —”

“Yes.”

Yes, she said yes, his mind echoes, and he takes her fully in his arms, murmuring love you, love you, so much.

They take their time, which is something they rarely have the luxury to do — up to now, it’s mostly been dorm room beds, roommates just on the other side of a door, stolen moments here and there.

And it is wonderful, full of wonder — everything feels more: her skin smoother, her kisses more intense, her taste even sweeter, every sensation heightened, within and without. It’s beautiful discovery, like the first time they were together — there’s the delicious rush and spark, the longing and the anticipation — but this time he’s not so overwhelmed. Body and soul both feel expanded somehow, able to handle this wild precious thing grown strong between them.

Side by side on the blanket, they slide along the length of each other, skin on skin the most amazing feeling, and when he finds himself between her legs, his tongue coaxing her by infinitesimal steps toward the peak, he looks up at her moonlit nakedness and knows — again, always — that wherever else his life takes him, whatever else he does, he wants it to be with her.  

As if he’s communicated this thought directly to her center, she cries out, quaking all around him as she comes; he wants to weep again at the beauty of it all, but she’s pulling him up, kissing him deeply, tasting herself on his lips and saying my god, oh my god … She reaches down, strokes him with the slip from her own body and it’s the most self-control he’s ever used in his entire life to keep from sliding into her right there but he manages to wrest himself free for the time it takes to find a condom in her bag and put it on, kneeling before her, a supplicant who finds himself invited, gladly welcomed inside.

He sinks in — deep, deeper, as if she could absorb him completely — “Ohhhhhh,” she sighs, with a hitch to her breath and rapture in her eyes. This is union, he thinks, we’re joined together …

“Yes we are,” she whispers as he moves over her. Had he said that out loud, or are they just that in sync? No matter, no matter … he’s pretty sure he could do this forever … but eventually, he finds himself climbing, climbing, then falling, floating safely through space with her, landing softly back on the springy, fertile-smelling ground.

After a long time, or maybe just a few minutes, they find the strength to clean up but not get dressed yet; they sit up together, Mulder’s bare back against the large, sun-warmed rock at the edge of their blanket, Scully reclined against his chest with his knees as armrests, the air around them warm and still. He holds her, resting his chin on her head, exquisitely aware of their heartbeats in perfect counterpoint to each other.

They’re silent, spent, bodies humming with the afterglow. I love you, Scully traces lightly on his thigh with her index finger. I’m gonna marry you, he thinks, tracing a heart with the tip of his tongue just behind her ear. She shivers, presses closer against him.

The night above them is beautiful again; she’s given that back to him. He’s about to say something in thanks, but just then, they both gasp, awestruck: A shooting star streaks across the sky, impossibly huge, unbelievably close.

“Make a wish,” he says, just as she says “Meteor, Spooky,” and they shake with laughter.

“Ain’t that always the way,” he grins, and she twists to look up at his face. She traces his cheek with the back of her hand, such affection in the gesture that he tears up again; he’s not used to this, to someone knowing him this deeply and loving him for it. He hopes she knows that he returns it a thousandfold. By the way her eyes fill up, he thinks she does.

She kisses him again, settles back into his arms, gazes peacefully out at the winking stars.

“We’re gonna be OK this summer, Mulder,” she says softly, her voice clear enough to indicate that the weed has worn off entirely.

“I know,” he answers, believing it for the first time, really.

He believes a lot of things, but this — this — is the capital-T truth.

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down

New Post has been published on https://nofspodcast.com/episodes-1-5-of-stranger-things-season-2-recap/

[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down

Stranger Things just debuted its second season on Netflix. Last year’s breakout viral sensation garnered critical acclaim and audience goodwill for its heady mix of nostalgia and horror, appearing on multiple end of year lists and snagging two Golden Globe nominations.

So how does the “sequel” (as series creators The Duffer Brothers have taken to calling it) fare? Read on for my recap of the first five episodes of season two.

Overall thoughts on Season 2

Immediate thoughts upon finishing the season: it’s more of the same, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The Duffer Brothers clearly know the show and their audience and even if at times they’re prone to replicating elements from Season One, I would argue that the season wraps up in a more satisfying fashion. Noah Schnapp (Will) proves to be the show’s secret weapon: the young actor has an uncanny ability to play a range of different roles to perfection. Bonus points for a more successful climax in round two, as well.

Episodic Breakdown

As people make their way through the new episodes, Nightmare on Film Street has prepared episodic recaps so be sure to bookmark this page and come back when you finish each episode. Look for the recap of episodes six – nine tomorrow.

Will doesn’t fit in in the season premiere of Stranger Things “Mad Max”

Episode 1 – “Mad Max”

Online chatter suggested the first episode back was slow, but ‘MadMax’ is simply a table setter. We need this reintroduction to Hawkins, Indiana and its denizens in order to set up the season. That means introducing new characters like Sean Astin’s Bob, Paul Reiser’s creepy Dr. Owens and new schoolmates Billy (Dacre Montgomery) and the titular Max (Sadie Sink) – though neither of the kids are given much to do.

“Mad Max” has a few intriguing supernatural occurrences to whet our appetite, including the mysterious poisoning at the pumpkin patch, the lit up control board at Hawkins Laboratory and, of course, Will’s visions of the looming insect-like threat (which would be more striking if it hadn’t been spoiled in Every.Single.Trailer). As for everyone’s favourite Eggo-eating, telepathic feral little girl, the Duffer Brothers naturally keep Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) hidden until the very end of the episode as one of several examples of characters keeping secrets from each other.

At once point, Dr. Owens tells Joyce (Winona Ryder) that things will get worst before they get better. For her, that’s terrible news. For Stranger Things viewers, that can only means good things ahead.

Odds and Ends:

The cold open features a series of unknown characters getting chased by police before one passenger displays Eleven-like powers that allows them to escape. This will clearly be paid off later (see episode seven in tomorrow’s recap – or rather don’t), but for now, it’s little more than a distraction from our reintroduction to Hawkins.

Danger looms for Will on Halloween night in 2×02 “Trick or Treat, Freak”

Episode 2 – “Trick or Treat, Freak”

First off, let’s address the ridiculous #JusticeForBarb storyline that’s dominating the Nancy (Natalia Dyer) and Steve (Joe Keery) story line. The Duffer Brothers clearly want to address the outcry for the fan favourite from Season One, but can we all agree that they’re leaning into it a little too much? Thankfully all it takes is one drunk party for the real fireworks to come out: Nancy drunkenly confesses about the inadequacies of her relationship with Steve and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) gets to put the object of his affection to bed. Just remember kids: repression is bad because it manifests as a giant red punch stain on the front of your First Lady/Figure Skater costume.

The other element that stands out about episode two is that there’s a lot more comedy: the four boys are the only ones who dress up for Halloween at school, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) and Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) struggle to speak to Max, Eleven passes her time watching soaps and dimwitted Officer Callahan (John Reynolds) mistakenly touches poisoned crops with his bare hands.

That last piece – the mysterious crop damage storyline – also begins to take shape as we learn that most of Hawkins’ farms have been affected by a mysterious poison, hinting at bigger things to come.

Odds and Ends:

Are the Duffer Brothers candy addicts? First Will and Dr. Owens debate Reese’s Pieces last episode and now there’s a prolonged discussion about the terribleness of 3 Musketeers bars? (Which, for the record, are delicious)

Initially it seemed like this episode was going to offer more insight about contentious siblings Billy and Max, but aside from their chicken-inspired driving on the highway, they remain obscure figures on the periphery. What’s their deal?

Bob and Joyce share a quiet moment in 2×03 “The Pollywog”

Episode 3 – “The Pollywog”

While I appreciate the effort being put into developing Sheriff Hopper (David Harbour) and Eleven’s relationship, I don’t think that the amount of screen time dedicated to this plot line is well spent. Three episodes in and we’re seeing the same content covered repeatedly: she was lost in the woods in winter, Hopper found her after a few feral encounters and they set up a temporary home with three “don’t be stupid” rules. We get it Stranger Things. At this point it just feels like the Duffer Brothers are delaying bringing Eleven back together with the gang.

Thankfully the second season’s dual mythology plot lines continue to develop nicely:

Hopper enlists Dr. Owens to investigate the contagion affecting the crops, which we learn is accounting for the odd smell that Billy and Max described in the last episode.

Meanwhile, Dustin names the “pollywog” creature that he finds in his trash D’Artagnan (because 80s!). A quick examination of the new species reveals that D’Art is a) afraid of the light b) growing exponentially and c) tied to the thing that Will spit into his sink at the end of Season One. Unfortunately the unnatural occurrences end in disaster when Will takes Bob‘s advice to confront the monster head on and he’s literally infected by the smoke monster from his visions. Oops!

Odds and Ends:

Was anyone else surprised to see Shirts vs Skins in gym class was a real thing? I won’t lie: all of these scenes felt remarkably homoerotic. It’s tantamount to a late night flick on Cinemax.

The aftermath of Will’s attack in 2×04 “Will The Wise”

Episode 4 – “Will The Wise”

After the cliffhanger possession ending of the last episode, we pick right up with Will, who claims not to remember what happened to him. After some prodding by Joyce, Will reveals that the creature wanted inside him and their parasitic relationship is deepened when Will refuses to take a hot bath, proclaiming “He likes it cold.”

When Hopper finally arrives at the Byers residence (following an uncomfortable battle of wills with Eleven after she abuses his 3 rules), there’s no narrative clarity about what’s happening, but it still feels like forward momentum. The result – Will confiding in Hopper and Joyce, Mike (Finn Wolfhard) revealing Will’s secret to Dustin and Lucas – makes “Will The Wise” the most satisfying episode of the season to date.

Unfortunately I simply cannot care about the stuff with Nancy and Jonathan and Barb’s mom. The only element of this story line that worked for me was the editing of the sequence in the park, which effectively highlighted Nancy and Jonathan‘s paranoia. The suggestion that these high school students could pull off a covert sting operation against the Hawkins Lab guys is a bit of a laugh, but we’ll see where it goes.

Odds and Ends:

Eleven‘s investigation into her history hits the jackpot when she discovers Hawkins Lab boxes hidden under the floor of Hopper‘s cabin. From there she’s able to connect with her very-much-alive mom, who identifies Eleven as “Jane” before disappearing in a literal puff of smoke.

I’m definitely losing interest in Billy and Max‘s storyline. Is there anything more to this than the fact that he’s racist?

RIP Mews. It always sucks when animals are killed on TV and that poor dead kitty didn’t deserve to be D’Art’s snack. 🙁

Will’s illness is finally address in 2×05 “Dig Dug”

Episode 5 – “Dig Dug”

This is essentially a “choose your own adventure” episode. Most of the characters venture off on their own: Hopper spends the episode foolishly investigating the tunnel system without back-up; Joyce, Mike, Will and Bob decode Will‘s drawings; Lucas catches Max up to speed, and Nancy and Jonathan and Eleven go on separate road trips.

I definitely appreciated the grotty visuals of what Hopper encounters in the tunnels (the blast to the face by a not-at-all-anus-like vine is particularly visceral and icky). Meanwhile Bob earns his high school “Brain” nickname when he deduces that the drawings are a map of Hawkins, though admittedly, hadn’t we all figured this out well in advance? It seems pretty obvious.

The two mythologies finally collide when Will‘s map leads to Hopper, whose survival ironically depends on his smoking habit. Luckily Joyce, Bob and the Hawkins Lab army show up just in time, ending the episode on another cliffhanger when it is revealed (unsurprisingly) that Will‘s physical health is connected to the tunnel vines and he winds up in Grand Mal territory.

Odds and Ends:

I’m glad that Dustin is no longer acting stupid about how dangerous D’Art is. It was evident from the start that the unknown creature was dangerous and “Dig Dug” confirms that as D’Art grows, he becomes more of an (unnatural) threat.

Let’s take a moment to recognize the comedic genius of Lucas‘ sister Erica (Priah Ferguson), who is officially the Dustin of this season. She’s equal parts annoying and hilarious. I love her.

Finally, Eleven‘s storyline continues to (annoyingly) exist completely outside of the main narrative. This episode she meets her Aunt Becky (Amy Seimetz), a Clea DuVall-esque woman looking after her mother. What follows is essentially a redo of Season One: Eleven‘s mom communicates via flickering lights and there’s a whole extended flashback that’s basically the Stranger Things version of Hodor’s “Hold The Door” backstory from Game of Thrones.

Check back tomorrow for recaps of the final four episodes of season two. In the interim, leave your impressions below in the comments!

[envirotravel]

Eight Secrets of Brazilian Beach Culture

I read once that local of Rio often say “tenha uma boa praia,” or “have a good beach” over the much more standard translation for “have a good day.” It’s a culture-revealing phrase not unlike Thailand’s famous “gin khao reuyang?”, a way of asking “what’s up?” which literally translates as “have you eaten rice yet?”

In much of Brazil, the beach isn’t a place you go for a few hours on vacation. It’s a lifestyle. I was warned ahead of time that Rio in particular has a strict beach etiquette and rules that had to be heeded — luckily when it comes to all things sand and sea, I’m a quick learner.

Despite wildly overscheduling my trip and visiting in autumn, when Brazil’s beaches are lightly buzzing but not overblown with people, I managed to hit the beach in Ilha Grande, Rio de Janeiro, Buzios, and Jericoacoara. Here are a few strict rules I learned along the way — the rare kind that are more fun to follow than to break.

Take as little as possible

The frumpy schlep of coolers and chairs and endless beach supplies is a major faux pas in Brazil. A towel in particular is considered a horror-inducing no-no. A canga (the Brazilian term for a sarong), some cash, and maybe a volleyball are basically the only acceptable items to take — anything else you need can be supplied on the sand.

Cangas are fabulous alternatives to towels — they can be worn as cover-ups walking to and from the beach, they can be laid out on the sand to lie on, they can be used as scarves and towels and a million other purposes in a pinch. In my mind, they are a travel essential! They also make for amazing gifts and souvenirs — Ilha Grande in particular was a fun place to shop for a few.

Wear as little as possible

In Brazil, tops stay firmly on – regardless of how small – but another body type entirely is on display. You can’t talk about Brazilian beaches without talking about butts. Women of every age and every size subscribe to the “suns out, buns out” line of thinking, and men don’t stray far behind with their own sunga swimsuits, a kind of modified speedo that would leave most American men recoiling in horror. Why put any extra fabric between your body and the beautiful sun, sand and sea, the thinking seems to go?

I quickly purchased several teeny, cheeky bikini bottoms for myself after receiving several stare-downs for wearing a fralda (or “diaper”, as Brazilians refer to the more full-coverage American bikini). Believe it or not, wearing more modest American styles is apt to draw even more attention than a teeny tiny thong — you’ll stand out as a gringa and some say make yourself more of a target for petty crime from those who target tourists!

While I felt seriously self-conscious at first letting my cheeks and inhibitions fly, I just looked around the beach for inspiration — Brazilian women appear unburdened by the body-hang ups that plague many other cultures, and I marveled at the confidence that strutted down the sand in so many different shapes and sizes.

One government worker from Brasilia who I met while she was vacationing in Jericoacoara told me she dreamed of visiting Miami, but the horror of wearing an American bathing suit had stopped her so far. I am afraid people will look at me in my bikini, but, I just cannot wear that diaper! I cannot!

Brazilians are known as some of the sexiest people on the planet and having shared the sand with them, I feel like I now know their secret — it’s confidence! It speaks to the major difference in our cultures that I uploaded and deleted the following photo so many times, wondering if it was inappropriate to post on my own dang travel blog, even though it’s a beautiful photo that I love taken by one of my closest friends — because the wrong square inches of skin are showing. In Brazil, a grandmother wouldn’t bat an eye wearing these bikini bottoms to the beach with her family. I love this aspect of Brazilian culture!

Say yes to snacks

It’s almost considered rude to bring your own food to the beach in Brazil. Acai cups, caipirinhas, seasoned cheese on a stick, iced tea, puffed crisp Globo and empanada vendors will walk along the beach calling our their offerings and you simply wave them over if interested. Eating out is incredibly expensive in Brazil and so sitting on the beach and grazing on snacks all day is not only fun, it’s also a great way to balance out the pricy dinner you might go out for later.

The very cool thing that I loved was that unlike in other countries where you apparently sign a blood oath to make a purchase if you so much as accidentally make eye contact with a beach vendor, the Brazilian ones were fairly low key and didn’t mind if we called them over to take a look and then decided not to buy. Everything was low-key and done with a smile. (We did encounter one over-aggressive bikini salesman who had a hard time hearing no in Copacabana, but he was the exception to what seemed to be the chilled out rule.) Normally I loathe beach vendors but in Rio they were one of my favorite things about the city.

The other beach cities I visited didn’t necessarily have the roaming vendors walking around, but they did have little stands where you could grab any snack you’d need.

Where you beach matters

In Rio especially, all sand is not made equal. The city’s main southern beaches stretch across over five miles of shoreline and are divided by 12 postos, or numbered lifeguard stations. These are for more than just giving directions; they are for finding your tribe. There is a saying in Brazil that you can tell everything you need to know about a person by three things: their favorite soccer team, their favorite samba school, and which posto they lay their canga at.

While Copacabana is the most widely-known to foreigners, it’s far from the hip place to be among Cariocas, or Rio residents. We spent an afternoon on touristy Posto 4 in Copacabana but far preferred the trendy, see-and-be-seen Posto 9 in Ipanema, where we spent two beach days in Rio. Certain Postos denote gay beaches, family beaches, and beyond.

Each posto is lined by barracas, semi-permanent beach bars where you can buy fresh coconut water, cold beer, and more caipirinhas, and also hire beach chairs and umbrellas. I was particularly enamored with Barraca Uruguay at Posto 9, both for the lively atmosphere of the easy-on-the-eyes crowd and the fact that the employees were primarily from Uruguay and Argentina, which meant we could chat in Spanish.

When you beach doesn’t really matter

Because there’s never a bad time to be at the beach. We were pretty amazed that even on a Monday in May, the beaches of Rio were pretty darn busy. While summer (December-February) is certainly the most popular time for Brazil’s beaches, don’t expect to ever have the popular ones to yourself. But no worries — that’s part of the fun!

Watch your stuff

This is probably fits int he “duh” category for most travelers, but don’t go swimming in the sea and leave your stuff unattended. Brazil’s crime problem is pretty notorious so I’m guessing most travelers don’t need to hear this, but it does warrant a warning. If you’re really blending in with Brazilians, you brought next-to-nothing to the beach (kudos!) but if you’re like me and can’t resist bringing your phone and camera, too, ask a trustworthy-looking neighbor to watch you things while you go for a dip.

It’s common practice in Brazil and as a bonus, is a great way to get your feet wet with Brazil’s notoriously social beach vibes (see what I did there?)

Don’t you dare bring a book

I’d read before my trip that Brazilians almost never read or listen to music with headphones in at the beach. Well, they can do what they want but I’m going to read my darn magazine, I thought, stubbornly throwing an old issue of Afar into my tote en route to Ipanema.

Yeah, no. I didn’t crack a single page. The beaches of Rio are alive in a way that you just can’t look away from. Impromptu fútball games, flirty chats with the barraca boys, beach vendor picnics…. who could read when there’s so much to do and see?

I suddenly understood the disdain for towels and personal beach chairs. Some beach-goers, I noticed, more or less spend the whole day standing. If they aren’t already engaged with someone, they are scanning the crowd and checking out the scene. It’s one of the most hyper-social situations you can be in, and the people-watching is unmatched.

Heather and I weren’t even being particularly outgoing; with our busy schedules our beach days did double duty as our hangover days and we were still just soaking it all in and getting into the Rio groove. Yet one day, we had a long, in-depth conversation with an empanada entrepreneur around our age who plopped down on the sand to answer our questions about the legalities of beach selling, and on another it only took two trips to our barraca for coconut waters before I was politely asked for my phone number by a cute Argentinian who intended to take me on a date. Some things are worth skipping the next chapter in your beach read for!

Stay for sunset

Don’t leave, the party is just getting started! Sunset on the beach in Brazil is, quite simply, a must. In Ilha Grande, we booked a hostel on the water so we’d never miss one. In Rio, we took it in at Aproador where a huge crowd had gathered to watch surfers and sip caipirinhas delivered by an enterprising local with a cooler. In Jericoacoara, it was a nightly ritual for the entire town.

. . .

It’s no secret that in many ways I found Brazil to be a frustrating and challenging country. And yet all that seemed to melt away when I was by the sea — I left Brazil completely enamored with its unique and special beach culture.

As much as I loved the tours I went on and the attractions I took in, I vowed that my next trip will involve summer, and include about four times as many unscheduled days to do nothing but plop my bare bum on the beach and watch the Brazilian world go by.

So Brazilians — and Brazil lovers! — tell me what I missed! 

Pin It!

Of course, a few days baking in the Brazilian sun hardly make me a cultural anthropologist — please forgive me any misinterpretations of the local culture, and feel free to set me straight in the comments if I’ve erred!

Eight Secrets of Brazilian Beach Culture posted first on http://ift.tt/2k2mjrD

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down

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[Recap] STRANGER THINGS 2, Episodes 1-5: What Goes Up, Must Come Upside Down

Stranger Things just debuted its second season on Netflix. Last year’s breakout viral sensation garnered critical acclaim and audience goodwill for its heady mix of nostalgia and horror, appearing on multiple end of year lists and snagging two Golden Globe nominations.

So how does the “sequel” (as series creators The Duffer Brothers have taken to calling it) fare? Read on for my recap of the first five episodes of season two.

Overall thoughts on Season 2

Immediate thoughts upon finishing the season: it’s more of the same, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The Duffer Brothers clearly know the show and their audience and even if at times they’re prone to replicating elements from Season One, I would argue that the season wraps up in a more satisfying fashion. Noah Schnapp (Will) proves to be the show’s secret weapon: the young actor has an uncanny ability to play a range of different roles to perfection. Bonus points for a more successful climax in round two, as well.

Episodic Breakdown

As people make their way through the new episodes, Nightmare on Film Street has prepared episodic recaps so be sure to bookmark this page and come back when you finish each episode. Look for the recap of episodes six – nine tomorrow.

Will doesn’t fit in in the season premiere of Stranger Things “Mad Max”

Episode 1 – “Mad Max”

Online chatter suggested the first episode back was slow, but ‘MadMax’ is simply a table setter. We need this reintroduction to Hawkins, Indiana and its denizens in order to set up the season. That means introducing new characters like Sean Astin’s Bob, Paul Reiser’s creepy Dr. Owens and new schoolmates Billy (Dacre Montgomery) and the titular Max (Sadie Sink) – though neither of the kids are given much to do.

“Mad Max” has a few intriguing supernatural occurrences to whet our appetite, including the mysterious poisoning at the pumpkin patch, the lit up control board at Hawkins Laboratory and, of course, Will’s visions of the looming insect-like threat (which would be more striking if it hadn’t been spoiled in Every.Single.Trailer). As for everyone’s favourite Eggo-eating, telepathic feral little girl, the Duffer Brothers naturally keep Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown) hidden until the very end of the episode as one of several examples of characters keeping secrets from each other.

At once point, Dr. Owens tells Joyce (Winona Ryder) that things will get worst before they get better. For her, that’s terrible news. For Stranger Things viewers, that can only means good things ahead.

Odds and Ends:

The cold open features a series of unknown characters getting chased by police before one passenger displays Eleven-like powers that allows them to escape. This will clearly be paid off later (see episode seven in tomorrow’s recap – or rather don’t), but for now, it’s little more than a distraction from our reintroduction to Hawkins.

Danger looms for Will on Halloween night in 2×02 “Trick or Treat, Freak”

Episode 2 – “Trick or Treat, Freak”

First off, let’s address the ridiculous #JusticeForBarb storyline that’s dominating the Nancy (Natalia Dyer) and Steve (Joe Keery) story line. The Duffer Brothers clearly want to address the outcry for the fan favourite from Season One, but can we all agree that they’re leaning into it a little too much? Thankfully all it takes is one drunk party for the real fireworks to come out: Nancy drunkenly confesses about the inadequacies of her relationship with Steve and Jonathan (Charlie Heaton) gets to put the object of his affection to bed. Just remember kids: repression is bad because it manifests as a giant red punch stain on the front of your First Lady/Figure Skater costume.

The other element that stands out about episode two is that there’s a lot more comedy: the four boys are the only ones who dress up for Halloween at school, Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin) and Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo) struggle to speak to Max, Eleven passes her time watching soaps and dimwitted Officer Callahan (John Reynolds) mistakenly touches poisoned crops with his bare hands.

That last piece – the mysterious crop damage storyline – also begins to take shape as we learn that most of Hawkins’ farms have been affected by a mysterious poison, hinting at bigger things to come.

Odds and Ends:

Are the Duffer Brothers candy addicts? First Will and Dr. Owens debate Reese’s Pieces last episode and now there’s a prolonged discussion about the terribleness of 3 Musketeers bars? (Which, for the record, are delicious)

Initially it seemed like this episode was going to offer more insight about contentious siblings Billy and Max, but aside from their chicken-inspired driving on the highway, they remain obscure figures on the periphery. What’s their deal?

Bob and Joyce share a quiet moment in 2×03 “The Pollywog”

Episode 3 – “The Pollywog”

While I appreciate the effort being put into developing Sheriff Hopper (David Harbour) and Eleven’s relationship, I don’t think that the amount of screen time dedicated to this plot line is well spent. Three episodes in and we’re seeing the same content covered repeatedly: she was lost in the woods in winter, Hopper found her after a few feral encounters and they set up a temporary home with three “don’t be stupid” rules. We get it Stranger Things. At this point it just feels like the Duffer Brothers are delaying bringing Eleven back together with the gang.

Thankfully the second season’s dual mythology plot lines continue to develop nicely:

Hopper enlists Dr. Owens to investigate the contagion affecting the crops, which we learn is accounting for the odd smell that Billy and Max described in the last episode.

Meanwhile, Dustin names the “pollywog” creature that he finds in his trash D’Artagnan (because 80s!). A quick examination of the new species reveals that D’Art is a) afraid of the light b) growing exponentially and c) tied to the thing that Will spit into his sink at the end of Season One. Unfortunately the unnatural occurrences end in disaster when Will takes Bob‘s advice to confront the monster head on and he’s literally infected by the smoke monster from his visions. Oops!

Odds and Ends:

Was anyone else surprised to see Shirts vs Skins in gym class was a real thing? I won’t lie: all of these scenes felt remarkably homoerotic. It’s tantamount to a late night flick on Cinemax.

The aftermath of Will’s attack in 2×04 “Will The Wise”

Episode 4 – “Will The Wise”

After the cliffhanger possession ending of the last episode, we pick right up with Will, who claims not to remember what happened to him. After some prodding by Joyce, Will reveals that the creature wanted inside him and their parasitic relationship is deepened when Will refuses to take a hot bath, proclaiming “He likes it cold.”

When Hopper finally arrives at the Byers residence (following an uncomfortable battle of wills with Eleven after she abuses his 3 rules), there’s no narrative clarity about what’s happening, but it still feels like forward momentum. The result – Will confiding in Hopper and Joyce, Mike (Finn Wolfhard) revealing Will’s secret to Dustin and Lucas – makes “Will The Wise” the most satisfying episode of the season to date.

Unfortunately I simply cannot care about the stuff with Nancy and Jonathan and Barb’s mom. The only element of this story line that worked for me was the editing of the sequence in the park, which effectively highlighted Nancy and Jonathan‘s paranoia. The suggestion that these high school students could pull off a covert sting operation against the Hawkins Lab guys is a bit of a laugh, but we’ll see where it goes.

Odds and Ends:

Eleven‘s investigation into her history hits the jackpot when she discovers Hawkins Lab boxes hidden under the floor of Hopper‘s cabin. From there she’s able to connect with her very-much-alive mom, who identifies Eleven as “Jane” before disappearing in a literal puff of smoke.

I’m definitely losing interest in Billy and Max‘s storyline. Is there anything more to this than the fact that he’s racist?

RIP Mews. It always sucks when animals are killed on TV and that poor dead kitty didn’t deserve to be D’Art’s snack. 🙁

Will’s illness is finally address in 2×05 “Dig Dug”

Episode 5 – “Dig Dug”

This is essentially a “choose your own adventure” episode. Most of the characters venture off on their own: Hopper spends the episode foolishly investigating the tunnel system without back-up; Joyce, Mike, Will and Bob decode Will‘s drawings; Lucas catches Max up to speed, and Nancy and Jonathan and Eleven go on separate road trips.

I definitely appreciated the grotty visuals of what Hopper encounters in the tunnels (the blast to the face by a not-at-all-anus-like vine is particularly visceral and icky). Meanwhile Bob earns his high school “Brain” nickname when he deduces that the drawings are a map of Hawkins, though admittedly, hadn’t we all figured this out well in advance? It seems pretty obvious.

The two mythologies finally collide when Will‘s map leads to Hopper, whose survival ironically depends on his smoking habit. Luckily Joyce, Bob and the Hawkins Lab army show up just in time, ending the episode on another cliffhanger when it is revealed (unsurprisingly) that Will‘s physical health is connected to the tunnel vines and he winds up in Grand Mal territory.

Odds and Ends:

I’m glad that Dustin is no longer acting stupid about how dangerous D’Art is. It was evident from the start that the unknown creature was dangerous and “Dig Dug” confirms that as D’Art grows, he becomes more of an (unnatural) threat.

Let’s take a moment to recognize the comedic genius of Lucas‘ sister Erica (Priah Ferguson), who is officially the Dustin of this season. She’s equal parts annoying and hilarious. I love her.

Finally, Eleven‘s storyline continues to (annoyingly) exist completely outside of the main narrative. This episode she meets her Aunt Becky (Amy Seimetz), a Clea DuVall-esque woman looking after her mother. What follows is essentially a redo of Season One: Eleven‘s mom communicates via flickering lights and there’s a whole extended flashback that’s basically the Stranger Things version of Hodor’s “Hold The Door” backstory from Game of Thrones.

Check back tomorrow for recaps of the final four episodes of season two. In the interim, leave your impressions below in the comments!