#...to your parents you are Worse Than Satan

[uncanny-tranny]

An important aspect of youth liberation is not tying the idea of later adult care with having children.

The broader attitude that only your children can ensure that you get taken care of when you grow old is not a good precedent to set. Having children should not be what ensures that you can live through old age, and fear mongering people with the idea that nobody will ever take care of them (or, rather, shouldn't) is such an awful motivator to have children.

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓣𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: The year is 1979 and it's the summer after graduation. You want to make the most of the vacation, but going to shady dance bars is a lot harder now that your new stepfather works for the DEA.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, cops and raids, stepdad trope and all that comes with, minor DUBCON, big juicy age gap [reader is 18/19 when she meets Javi, Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames, mommy issues ™ , alcohol consumption, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi then soft!Javi, brat!reader, rough sex, “virginity” loss & minor mention of blood, sex in the woods on the hood of Javi’s car, mentions of F masturbation, some reader x oc, Javi gives reader her first orgasm, major size kink [Javi is bigger than the reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, reader is insanely horny, satanic levels of dirty talk, finger sucking, choking, spanking [with a belt and hand] , a few slaps [as always], fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], creampie. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I am impossibly excited for this stepdad trilogy. This is part 1/3 so it’s only 1/3 the fun and debauchery. Few Easter eggs thrown in.. see if you can spot em 🤭.This is set up after the events of season 2 and before the events of season 3, in a year where Javi is taking a break before Cali, but feel free to imagine otherwise. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

​​Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

Once I had a love and it was divine

Soon found out I was losing my mind

It seemed like the real thing, but I was so blind

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

You stood at the entrance, one foot tapping restlessly on the wooden floorboards. In an effort to keep your head down you fiddled aimlessly with the clasp on your watch, knowing full well you weren’t going to be paying attention to anything but the time that flashed on its face. An older, blonde woman came stomping onto the patio, swinging the wooden door behind you so hard on her way the rattle it produced when it slammed shut knocked the flimsy “BAR” sign right off. You jumped, then took another step away from the establishment.  

You could almost feel the bass of the engine thrumming in your chest as it got closer. The tires crunched against the gravel as it neared. You still couldn’t see it. You hoped it was her. 

It wasn’t long before a red convertible was nearing, the number plate sending a shaky, relieved sigh hurtling past your lips. Agitated, drunk and anxiety ridden, you ran towards and then jumped into Lorrain’s car– hoping and praying the ride would give you a beat to sober up. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d had to sneak back into your room well past midnight. It was so much of a habit you could sell a course on how to accomplish it with the utmost skill and precision. What was rare, however, was having to perform the task while shaken up so severely. The side of your small, once welcoming home seemed more alien than ever, your bedroom looking far higher off the ground than you remembered. 

Nevertheless, a few missteps and about 10 minutes later you stumbled through your open window, quickly stripping to your underwear and shoving your dirty, alcohol laced clothes under your bed. You cursed your “parents” at the fact that you still needed to do this shit like a fucking highschooler. 

The sound of feet padding towards your bedroom door startled you, and you jumped to pull on your sleep shorts before what you knew was your stepdad coming up the stairs. 

You hoped and prayed he hadn't caught wind of the way you screamed when your foot missed the ledge below your window, or worse, that his partner hadn’t given him a call to inform him of the familiar face he saw at the shack that night. 

No matter how many times you liked to imagine he would bend you over his knee and discipline you, how many times you imagined it was him with his hand under your skirt or head between your legs as some clumsy 20 year old rutted against your thigh, you knew full well if Javier actually ever caught your antics, the consequences were going to be a whole lot less ideal than that. 

As you jumped under the covers you recalled the way Agent Steve Murphy had cocked his head at you back at the bar. The way your stepfather’s partner had squinted his eyes at you in confusion, doing a double take at your skimpy outfit, short dress and boots, the way the men at the bar had their hands all over you. 

You prayed it wasn’t too late before you turned your head away, that it wasn’t too late before you swiftly moved out of that bar, before he could be sure it was you he was seeing. 

Because if he was, there would be absolute hell to pay. 

—

One summer, when you were maybe eight or nine, you developed an absurd obsession with riding your bike up the slope that led away from your small town. Eventually, the uphill roads veered away, twisting and turning into a thousand different rocky paths that converged at one point only a few hundred metres from the large sign that welcomed people into the town. The singular, welcoming road led straight into the woods. Back then, it seemed endless, providing a warm, hospitable buffer for the hills that loomed over the town with a somewhat protective intimidation. Like the woods were watching over your every move. 

Everyday, for three months, you’d bust out your front door at 18:00 on the dot and make the journey uphill. Exhaustively pushing your bike past that sign and into what was nature's much welcome respite from your mothers neglectful cruelty. You collected rocks by the stream that ran through those woods, leaves and flowers to keep in your room. It was like they were magic. Like they wanted to get to know you, be your friend. The trees formed a canopy over you, like they wanted to shield you from the winds and the setting sun, and most importantly from the town below. 

One day you remember hearing some rustling coming from up the stream. You didn't think much of it, must have been a deer or something of the sort. You continued foraging for little flowers and rocks, that was until you came across something that didn't really belong. A piece of white lace. It looked new, but dirty, there was cotton under half of it. It seemed like it was part of a dress. Someone must have lost it up there. You didn't investigate. Things were calm and quiet again as usual, but it wasn't long before the rustling from upstream got louder, just slightly, and you heard the clatter of a metal rod to the ground, followed by a heavier, louder thud. 

You turned on your heel and away from the stream, it took you four minutes to find the welcome sign to your town again. By 19:00 you were home. 

You never went back to the woods again. That August your mother informed you you were going to school in the city. 

— 

To say you were unhappy to come home from boarding school to the news your mother was marrying a cop would be an understatement, and while you tried not to be too judgy and give him a chance, to say you were surprised when he turned out to be a complete authoritarian would be an even bigger understatement. 

You knew of Agent Peña, he was somewhat of a local celebrity. You’d seen him on your summers home since you were sixteen- picking up beers at the convenience store, smoking cigarettes outside the petrol station. You and your friends would often drool over him, wait for him to show up at a neighbourhood barbeque, or catch him taking a walk around the block. 

Eventually, you grew up, and outgrew your little hallway crush on the, now, mostly tiresome Agent Peña. Because soon you weren't sixteen. And his holier than thou, saviour complex, and affinity for order only made you roll your eyes. In fact he was quite annoying. He made little effort to contribute to the community, still riding his high from his days in Colombia. 

You wondered why those people revered him like he was taking bullets for your town. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted when you found out your mother was marrying him. At first, a little bit jealous for the teenager who once fawned over him, but quickly more concerned for the fact that he was actually someone who you’d have to interact with, and not just a piece of eye candy you could appreciate out and about. 

Hell, he was becoming family, and your stepfather no less. It was torturous. You did not need another person to worry about in your home. 

“So.. What’re you studying?” He crossed his left leg over the right, and asked you. His hand reached out to receive the glass of whiskey your mother poured him. He hadn’t been in your house for ten minutes and you already couldn’t stand his guts. Besides the fact that he was a cop, he had this air about him… what exactly, you weren’t quite sure. A superficial, macho exterior that felt like a bigger slap in the face than the fact that he was sitting on the nice, upholstered, expensive, armchair your father had paid for. 

Unsurprisingly, Agent Peña often indulged you in riveting conversation about the dangers of indulging in alcohol and drugs at a young age as he puffed on his cigarette, and lectured you, in what you knew as truly your mothers fashion, about how young people these days didn't know a thing, and that they must always respect and follow the lead of their elders. 

Much like mother dear, he paid little attention to you other than to reprimand you for whatever it was you weren’t doing correctly; for when you didn’t do the dishes on time, or were staying out too late, as if it was any of his business to even begin with. He seemed to really enjoy the protective dad role. It fit in well with the rest of his pathetic persona. 

No wonder they got along.

You remember almost gagging when he boasted about the college you were set to attend, one arm slung across your shoulder, at the party your aunt threw for your graduation. Like he had absolutely anything to do with it. You excused yourself partly to avoid the embarrassment and partly to roll your eyes. A small part of you enjoyed his proud boasting, but you were not ready to unpack that yet. 

In the time the couple weren’t circle jerking about their views, you were lucky enough to be the recipient of snide comments that were so obviously meant for your late father. To his credit Javier Peña didn’t involve himself in the conversation. You couldn’t say the same for a lot of your mother’s previous lovers. 

Since you were ten years old you had been making your own decisions, doing what you wanted and living on your terms. To return to your home for the summer after graduation, now 18, and have to abide by someone else’s meaningless regulations, was a rather harsh slap in the face. Not to mention this someone had been in your life all of two months, and really enjoyed acting like he knew anything about you, or your family. 

Sometimes, when you’d climb down the stairs of that quaint suburban home, the home that once belonged to your family, in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water or a snack, you’d see him sitting out on the porch, hunched over a whole bunch of shit you couldn’t bother caring about, with his ashtray dangerously close to all that flammable paper. 

His shirt stretched deliciously over his back, his hand reaching out to ash his cigarette every once in a while. You were glad he was infuriating, had he not been such a prick it might have revived the little bit of a crush you had on him. 

Sometimes you felt a little bit bad for rolling your eyes at him, or shutting down his attempts to initiate group plans. If you were being honest you were surprised when he didn’t blow up at you for talking back or being rude– that was when your mother wasn’t around. When she was, he didn’t have to. She would jump at any chance to start a fight. You were even more surprised when Javier tried to diffuse the situation. 

You figured soon enough that perhaps the Javier Peña you met a few months prior was putting quite the show on for his overbearing, obnoxious lover. Of course, you were sure he hardly saw her that way. He was perhaps a lot smarter than you gave him credit for. 

Javier often chided your mother when you spoke back to her, rather unexpectedly calling out her bad parenting and the behaviour she “modelled” for you when you were a child. You overheard them argue after a big blowout, from your room. It upset you that he was even getting involved. He tried to talk to you about it later, but that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Obviously, you knew your hatred of them both had something to do with your psychologically deprived childhood, but it baffled you how neither of them, especially wannabe father of the year Javier Peña, didn’t realised your isolated anger would perhaps be diminished if they stopped trying to meddle in your life, the one neither of them seemed to care about unless something about it upset them. 

If he really cared about your wellbeing he’d take his wife and get the fuck out of your life. You were an adult, one that wasn’t going to listen to anyone, especially not the mother who packed you away all those years ago, and her hypocritical, infuriating husband. 

Thats why, despite having almost gotten caught and having your ass handed to you less than forty eight hours prior, you were back at the shack, drink in hand, stupidly forgetting exactly what had you scrambling to get out there in the first place. 

Who could have even blamed you? Your mother had been especially annoying that particular morning, and Javier and his buddies had colonised the house for a barbeque in the afternoon. In what even you recognised as somewhat juvenile rebelion, you decided the universe owed you some fun after having to endure their patronising, senseless chit chat all day. 

It wasn’t even that late, but you were already feeling it, the effects of the countless drinks you had downed over the course of the few hours you had been dancing at the bar. Nothing unusual in that, men often offered to buy you drinks, handsome ones at that, and you didn’t have the money to live extravagantly. Besides, if you weren’t going to use your charm what was it even there for? 

Was it Timmy? Tommy? You couldn't even recall his name by the time he was tossing you onto the counter in the bar’s bathroom. To be honest you couldn’t really figure out much of your surroundings, letting yourself get lost in the delicate, dizzy, tipsy haze as his hands slipped under your skirt to squeeze at your thighs. Your regular drunk hookup, or rather someone you disappointingly rolled around with till he finished and left you to roll your hips against your pillow wishing your hands were your Stepfather’s. 

His lips brushed your neck, sloppily planting kisses up and down your skin, nipping at your collar bones as he pushed himself between your legs. You closed your eyes and imagined he was Javier. The thought made you moan and you reached for his collar to pull him closer. He didn't smell like Javi, wasn't as big, his chest wasn’t as firm, his arms didn't envelop you like Javi’s did. 

You felt him swell against you, and you pushed against him, mind once again drifting to Javier standing at the grill in your backyard. His white linen shirt unbuttoned far too low, rolled up sleeves drawing your eyes to his forearms. He’d had a hand on his hip, a sliver of skin right above the band of his shorts just barely visible. 

He smiled at you, and you had worried he’d caught you staring. You revelled in the image. You recalled how he leaned against the edge of the pool with the afternoon sun beating down on his golden skin. You imagined his hands moving under your bra to squeeze your breast. 

You were rather embarrassingly enjoying the little montage of your stepdad that was playing in your head. You had almost forgotten it was tommy, or timmy rolling his hips against yours. If a loud, wall rattling thud hadn’t interrupted you, you would've enjoyed your little delusion even longer. 

To say you were startled was an understatement, you practically leaped right off the counter. Unable to really gather your bearings in time, you barely registered timmy, or tommy, scrambling to fix his shirt, you yourself rushing to cover up and fix the top of your dress. 

From the corner of your eye you caught a hand grab him by the shoulder and shove him towards the door, dragging him out of the bathroom and towards a building commotion outside. You heard people yelling, but couldn’t really make out what was going on. 

When you looked up and found Javier looking dead at you, instead of your little fling, you damn near collapsed. He looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack. In a second he was shutting the door behind him, and flicking the lock. You would’ve ran, but its not like you could go anywhere, besides, hed gotten a good look at your face gawking at him, like a fucking moron. 

It was over. 

“You’re fucking kidding me.” you hopped off the counter and tumbled into his chest.  He took you by the arm and dragged you right to the back of the bathroom, you struggled to remain on your feet but he didn’t really care. Much of your dizziness was thanks to your new found anxiety and had little to do with the vodka you’d been downing all night. This was definitely not an ideal situation. His grip on your arm tightened, and made you wince. You liked the sting, not so much the rest of the whole ordeal. “This where you’ve been fuckin’ going?” he seethed, coming close enough that your noses almost touched, he shook you lightly by the arm as he spoke. 

You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he pulled you closer. “None of your fucking business.” Sure, you weren’t on your best behaviour, but did he really think he could boss you around? 

“Sure as hell’s my fucking business.” he took a look behind him, then turned back to you and leaned closer. “‘DEA agent’s step daughter dancing at illegal drug club’ sure gonna make a sweet headline.” His fingers dug into your flesh. Only then did it hit you why exactly he was in your dingy shack to begin with. You heard Timmy arguing with someone outside. You felt your palms become impossibly clammier. 

“Just fucking turn me in then, asshole.” you got closer, and you were sure he could smell the vodka off your breath. You wished that sounded as courageous and bold out loud as it did in your head. His eyes jumped to your lips, and he rolled them, huffing in frustration. You felt your own eyes burn, and your vision became blurry. You didn't want to cry in front of that bastard. You looked away. 

“To whom? Myself” his thumb smoothed over your skin, and his grip lightened. “Not gonna arrest you, fuckin’ idiot.” he rolled his eyes, then dropped your arm to put his hands on his hips. He looked down and sighed, massaging his temple and then glancing behind him again. 

“Riskin it all for that fuckin’ looser?” He let out a half hearted laugh, looking somehow both disappointed and smug. You wanted to punch him in the face. You would have, if he didnt happen to be the only thing between you and one dozen other narcs outside. 

He glanced at the ground for a second, then back at you and fixed the strap of your top that had slipped down your shoulder. “Get in the car.” he pointed behind you, and you looked in the direction to see a small, open window. 

“Know you're good at climbing outta windows.” you felt your cheeks heat so much they burned. Your heart hadn’t really recovered from his big, surprise entry yet. You couldn't stand to look at his frustrated, let down face. 

Javi cocked his head and raised his brows, whispering a strained “go”. You had no choice, you turned away from him and towards the window. 

—

“Where are we going?”

He didn't look away from the road ahead. Hand gripping the steering wheel with a renewed annoyance. “Better stop asking questions before s’ too late brat.” You opened your mouth to speak, but quickly shut it right back up again. You decided it was probably a lot smarter to just shut up and not bother him any longer– regardless of the thousand questions and worries you had swimming in your head. 

If you were lucky, he was going to drive the both of you right off a cliff, because if your mother caught any wind of what you had been doing, your plans for going to college, and living out of your house would fly right out the window. Not to mention the torture that would insue when she demanded to know your whereabouts all day everyday for the rest of the foreseeable future. 

“Don't want ya hangin’ round the countryside, in these barns, nothing good happens in there.” he looked over you momentarily, 

“Oh what? Are the cows joining in on the drug trade?” 

“Newspaper boys, going missin’. Found him in the lake, about two miles from here.” you pressed your lips together. 

The car ride thus passed in a painful, tense silence. Javier was clearly unhappy with the whole situation, but had decided not to immediately blow up in your face? Everything about that unsettled you. He was so shocked he seemed to be in denial. You'd much prefer if he just yelled at you and got it over with. 

What else was there to do? Surely he wasn’t going to turn you over to the cops, he had his chance to do that already. However Javier never missed a chance to reprimand you, maybe he wanted to get a few words in before ruining your future. 

You wouldn’t put it past him anyway. 

The empty streets gave way to a narrow, winding road that cut through the woods. The familiar landscape of your small town faded away, replaced by shadowy silhouettes of trees that loomed closer and closer to the edge of the road. The headlights pierced the darkness, illuminating the dense foliage– closing in around you. The road twisted and turned, each bend bringing you deeper into the night, and further away from any civilisation. 

Beginning to zone out, you kept your eyes ahead, now unable to recognise left from right, and importantly, exactly how far out from town you had come.  It wasn’t long before the “farwell, drive safe” sign that stood at the edge of the woods was swiftly moving past your right shoulder. A pit was quick to form in your stomach, the lowered window by Javi’s side let the cool breeze in. It wrapped around you and made you shiver. The smell of the woods soon overcame you. 

Eventually,the car came to a stop in a small clearing. You watched Javi, but he paid no attention to you. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of branches swaying in the wind. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoed through the trees. You felt like a child about to be reprimanded after getting in trouble at school. You could hear the ticking of the cooling engine, each sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The dark woods pressed in on you. 

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his door, stepping out and gesturing for you to do the same with his head. Still absolutely clueless about what exactly he was doing, you decided just to follow along. He wasn’t going to actually kill you or anything. Probably just wanted to scare you. He had always thought he was a lot more scary than he actually was. At least that's what your brain was telling you. Your heart had other plans. 

You watched from inside as Javi began to cross in front of you, for a good three seconds he stood directly ahead of you, facing you in the beams of the headlights. The sight made you shiver. He took a step out of the light. Taking a long deep breath to psych yourself up, after a short moment you opened your door. Javi placed his arm on the top of said door, leaning against it to watch you get out. 

You almost tripped, but Javi caught you by the arm and manhandled you to the front of his truck. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, and when he turned you to face the hood it blinded you. 

The scrape of your shoes against the damp soil, the crunch of the leaves– it was pretty much all you could really register. The moon shone bright, shining through the trees, but your eyes had not yet adjusted to the darkness. “These woods are fucking haunted.” A bug landed on the side of your face and you jumped, shaking your head and swatting it away. Javier laughed behind you and you rolled your eyes. “Ghosts the least of your worries right now, bunny .” 

“Fuckin gross.” He shook you by the arm, his voice now a tad bit more annoyed than it was a little earlier. “Oh really?” He pushed you against the hood of his car, your back now facing it. You couldn’t see his eyes, any part of his face at all, you could barely see anything. You wondered how he moved so confidently in the dark. He must have practice. 

“I ain’t sneakin’ out to be a slut every night.” His hands moved to grab your waist and your heart jumped. You swallowed, feeling more defiant yet sceptical by the second. “Sorry you’re not getting any, but it's not my fault, dirty old man.” Before you could even gauge his reaction your head was snapping to the side, a sharp burn spreading across your cheek as Javier’s hand made contact with your skin. 

“I'm not getting any?” he laughed, then took your face between his fingers and squeezed your cheeks together. You winced, and your vision got blurry. You felt your panties dampen embarrassingly. “I ain't the one lettin’ stupid boys rub up on me, bunny.” He shook your face gently, voice so seething and cruel you whimpered, somehow more desperate for him than you were before. 

“Desperate little slut.” He grabbed you by the shoulders and flipped you around, and promptly told you to “shut that whore mouth” when you screamed that he could fuck right off. His fingers left tender spots all over your arms and waist, and you winced when he manhandled you into bending over the hood of his car. 

He placed a hand on your back to press you down, the other held your waist in a death grip and you felt him press up against your ass. Your dress had ridden up, and surely left little to the imagination. The denim of his jeans rubbed against your upper thighs, and the tips of your shoes barely scraped the ground with how far up the hood of the car he had thrown you. You whimpered and he shushed you with a hand squeezing around your throat from behind. 

You knew you had to be unjustifiably wet by this point. You felt yourself throb when Javi put his hands under your dress and grabbed the waistband of your panties. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt his bulge through the fabric. 

The jingle of his belt sent a shiver down your spine, every hair on the back of your neck standing up at attention. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, still undecided about how exactly you felt about this entirely new development. 

Your heart jumped when he ran the leather across your skin, slowly, perhaps to catch you off guard when he finally struck you with it. You lurched forward, the pain so sharp a tear was quick to roll down your cheek. He struck you again, holding you down with his other hand. The sound of each slash, and your whines that followed echoed in the distance. 

“Think you’re fuckin cute, don’t you.” It was horribly embarrassing to be bent over the hood of his car, both palms on holding you up as best they could whilst he landed spank after spank on your bare ass. “Like bein a wild child?” Your scream echoed in the woods when his belt made sharp contact with your flesh. Your knees buckled but Javier's hand on your waist held you up before it was retreating to land another slap on your ass. Tears were dampening the neckline of your dress already, rolling down your neck and rendering you a bigger mess with every sharp spank of his belt. 

“Yeah? You get off on all those men touchin’ ya? Like being passed around like a cheap whore?” He gripped your hips so tight you didn’t even bother trying to wiggle out of his hold. ��Should take ya to the office sometime, hand ya off to Steve, let him have some fun with you.”

You shook your head at that, there was only one man in the DEA offices you wanted, and unfortunately it wasn’t anybody that could actually be with. You clenched your thighs. 

“Knew you were a fuckin’ nasty little girl.” He wedged his hand between them, pushing them apart and slightly spreading your thighs. His fingers rubbed over your clothed cunt, your panties now damp from all that had ensued. You shivered, then pushed back against his digits. 

His fingers found your clit and you moaned. “Did ya cum?” he asked, referring to your little escapade at the bar. Suddenly, you were a whole lot less bold than you were a few moments ago, it wasn’t ideal to admit what you were going to, and it seemed almost impossible without sounding rather pathetic. 

He stopped moving his fingers and pinched the inside of your thigh. “Answer me.” You whispered a “no” bracing yourself for whatever embarrassing comment Javier was going to throw back at you in response. “Huh.. No one fucked this tight little snatch before? Savin’ yourself for me?” he ruminated on the thought, sounding far more pleased than you would have desired. He wasn’t exactly right, but he definitely wasn’t wrong either. 

When you remained quiet he leant beside your ear, lips ghosting the skin on your neck. “Hmm, that right? “Wish it was me instead of that stupid boy?” You groaned at his smug voice, then when his fingers slid under your panties and between your dripping folds. “Wished his finger’s were mine tonight, didnt you?” He cursed under his breath at how wet you were. “How many times d’you cum dreamin’ bout your stepdaddy fuckin your tight lil pussy…” 

“Haven’t” You pressed your face against the metal of his car, cheeks on fire at your admission. He remained silent behind you for a beat, then gently lifted you to press your back to his chest with a hand around your throat. He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss against your neck, and the hand that was between your legs slid under your dress to plam your tit through your bra. “Ever?” 

You gasped as he pulled it down, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You shook your head and pressed back against his hard cock. The buckle of his belt dug into your skin and you could almost feel the sting against your ass once again. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, hand returning between your legs. 

He rubbed your clit in slow circles and then pushed two fingers into your entrance. “Full of surprises, aren't ya?” you gasped at the stretch, his fingers were surely far bigger than your own, or any others that had been anywhere near your pussy.  “don't blame ya’ bunny , nothing like the real thing, huh?” 

You bit your lip harder to keep from moaning, already far closer to finishing than you had ever been before, especially when he stroked your walls, mercifully scissoring you open in an uncharacteristic show of thoughtfulness. 

“So fuckin’ wet, bunny .” he curled his digits, reaching that sweet spot inside you as he thumbed your clit. You pushed back against him, feeling yourself continue to gush around his hand. “Gonna slide right in at this rate.” 

He yanked your panties down with so much force you heard a few stitches rip in the silence. Javier groaned, and you leaned back against him when his hand moved away from your pussy to slide his hard cock between your thighs, his hips flush against yours. He squeezed your tit in his palm as he pulled back a little, sliding against your swollen cunt again. 

You felt your arousal smear against your thighs. He muttered a strained “Can’t wait much longer, bunny” . You, yourself thought you might have gone crazy if he waited longer. He pulled his hips back again, notching the head at your entrance and pushing in in a single, slow thrust. 

You winced and then moaned, body unable to adjust to the sheer size of him so quickly, yet still hungry for more. You hadn’t felt quite so full ever before, you could feel his cock deep inside you. Your hand covered his on your chest and you mewled and whimpered when he moved his hips, replicating the sharp thrust again, and then again. 

It wasn’t long before he was pushing you back down against the hood of his car to get a better grip on your hips. He twisted your wrist as you reached out for him, holding both in one large palm as he found a steady rhythm. The almost unbearable stretch slowly melted away into a delicious, burning need, and in only a few moments you were pressing back against him, pleading for him to pick up his pace. 

“You rub your pretty little cunt thinking ‘bout my cock splitting you open?” You moaned a “yes” every part of your body now hot with need as he kept fucking into your warm, wet, heat. 

“How?” When you didn't answer he landed a spank to your ass, this time with his hand, and right over the spot his belt had left its sting on not so long ago. You yelped and surged forward. His hand on your hip pulled you back. You pulled yourself up, craving the heat of his chest against your back. 

“On my- oooh” your palm landed over his, fingers wrapping around one of his larger ones as you cut yourself off with a moan “On my pillow.” The memory made you throb harder, and the hand that was holding Javiers guided it away from your hip and closer to the cut of your thigh, craving the feel of his fingers on your clit. 

He squeezed the flesh of your thigh and chuckled, hot breath fanning against your now sweaty skin. “Thought as much. My little slut. Knew I heard ya..” he took your earlobe between his teeth for a moment, nipped and then licked a stripe up your neck “tryna make yourself cum. Couldn't figure it out yourself huh?” 

You shook your head. “horny little girl, need me to do everything for ya.” You had indeed, countless times rather ashamedly. The thought that he’d possibly heard you long enough for it to be a problem, had likely fucked your mother at the thought, wishing it was you under him in her stead was a thought that would live in your head for all eternity. 

He kissed your cheek, then pushed you back down. “S’why ya keep spreading your legs for the whole world huh?” He put a palm on the middle of your back, holding you down as he continued to thrust inside you. “Chasin’ cock all day long.”

“Can’t help this whore cunt huh? So desperate to cum.” holding yourself up on your forarms you raised your head, turning back to get a look at him fucking into your desperate pussy. 

“Knew it the moment I fuckin’ saw you. Dumb slut got nothing to her name besides this sweet pussy. No one taught ya any manners, how to be a good little girl.” His thumb brushed over the cut of your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks. His index and middle fingers swiped your lips, and they instinctively parted to let him push them in. You sucked and drooled around his digits, doing little to contain your moans as he continued to fuck you from behind. The taste of your arousal sat heady on your tongue. “Always knew ya wanted it, stupid little slut.”

“Runnin that whore mouth all day like you're payin’ for the house.” his hips snapped towards yours, his cock buried deep inside you. “But it aint your house, bunny .” With the way your tits were pressing against the smooth metallic finish of his stupid pickup truck you were sure they were going to leave a mark. 

You released his fingers with a pop, and he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around, hurriedly tossing you onto the hood of his car till your feet were also planted firmly above the bumper. Before you could even register the movement he was slipping back inside you, you felt yourself pulse around his cock. You hoped and prayed no one was remotely near, your wailes and whines loud enough to travel far into the distance. 

“Get that in your fuckin’ head” He tapped his index gently against your temple and you nodded, frantically pleading yes after yes. You felt him throb inside you, each drag of his cock building the tension in your belly. You felt your pussy squeeze around him, and you wiggled your hips closer to chase the feeling. 

Your head turned side to side, your whole body buzzing at the heat between your legs. You don't think you’d ever felt anything like it. Sure, it felt good to touch yourself, but this, the feeling of his cock inside you, against your wet walls, it was entirely different. 

The tension only built in your hips, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you hurtled closer and closer to the edge. Your palms squeezed your breasts, seeking purchase on any part of your body. 

You lay your back down completely, watching the light hit him right in the face, falling against his features to create sharp lines of contrast. You’d take a good long look at him on top of you to save for later, but he was quickly pressing his lips to yours and your eyes fluttered shut. 

The weight of his body on top of yours was enough to make you cum on your own, but the feeling of his lips was what really did it. For how rough and quick he was splitting you open, his mouth moved gently against yours, his warm tongue parting your lips and gliding into your mouth. You moaned against him and he bit your lip, sensing how close you were. 

“Wanna see that face when you cum for me.”  his palm tilted your face upwards, and while the rest of his fingers continued to squeeze around your neck his thumb slipped between your parted lips. Instinctively, you closed your mouth around him, drooling and moaning around his thumb when he hit the sweet spot inside you over and over. Your pussy clenched around his cock and you tried to whimper his name. You felt another word bubble in your throat but you closed your lips around his digit to push it away. Your eyes fluttered shut at the intensity. 

“Cum for me, lil bunny” his words made you tumble over the edge, your cunt squeezing and gushing around his cock, your back arching off the hood of his car. His fingers squeezed around your neck, holding your face in place so he could get a good look at your eyes rolling back into your head. 

It was like a blackout, your ears rang so loud and your lips loosened around his thumb, going slack as you rode out your high. You felt him throb inside you at the sight. You felt the ache deep inside you, all the pleasure bursting in a single climactic second. Your lips fell slack around his fingers, whole body twitching at the sensation. 

Your climax set him off, and it wasn't long before he was burying himself inside your hot heat. His cock pulsed against your wet walls, painting your insides with his spend. He groaned and squeezed around your neck just a little harder. You sucked his thumb gently and heard him curse under his breath. You tried to keep your fluttering eyes on his face, watching intently as the aftershocks subsided and Javier's brows knit closer with his final few thrusts. 

After a few moments he stilled inside you, taking a moment to catch his breath. He pulled his thumb from your warm mouth to brush your bottom lip, then let his own lips take their place. You felt him pull out and you winced at the burn. He put both your legs up on his shoulders and leaned between your legs. 

You watched as his head disappeared between your legs to place a kiss to your inner thigh, and pull your panties back up your hips. You reached for him and he pulled you up to his chest. “Gotta clean up a lil bit, bunny..” he fixed your dress and lifted you off the hood and into his arms. “Ain’t nothing to worry about.” You already knew your painties were ruined for good with a red stain by that point. 

You rested your forearms on his shoulders, quite liking being held in his arms. “Knew you were always to much of a fucking perv to be a good cop.” He smacked your ass again for good measure and placed you on the ground. “You aint’ too much of a slut to fuck your stepdaddy aint it?” 

He stepped aside and you watched him do up his belt again, walking towards the driver's side of the car. You looked behind you and towards the expanse of the woods. The trees rustled, and you heard, presumably, the same owl hoot from the distance. A small crackle in the foliage had you swiftly walking to the passenger side and yanking open the door. You hopped inside and slammed it behind you. 

Javier was reaching in the glove box to stash away his gun. “Please” You swallowed, looking towards him. “Please just don’t tell her. She's going to have a freak out.”

Javi glanced at you momentarily, then murmured a dismissive “yeah yeah” as he started up the engine. That wasn't good enough for you. “Please, she’ll give me hell, I can’t deal with it.” You shook your head, then shifted in your seat. He muttered another “yeah”, checking his pockets for the keys to your front door. God forbid they slipped out while he was fucking your brains out. 

You turned towards him in your seat, both hands on the centre console. “Please.” Javier grabbed the keys, hooked them to his belt loop and dropped his head in a sigh. He turned towards you, taking a moment to reach over and buckle you into your seat. 

“‘Ain’t gonna tell, so stop askin’ before I change my mind.” He knew he didn’t need to ask you to keep your mouth shut– perhaps the most humiliating part of this all. 

“Okay.. yeah..”  The headlights flashed as you began your journey back home, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. You sank back, twisting in Javi’s direction, now curled up in the seat. His eyes remained on the road ahead. “Don’t do this shit again.” 

“Just wanted some adventure.” your voice grew thick, and you yawned. “Next time ya want adventure watch a fuckin’ hitchcock film or something.” He reached out a hand to cup your cheek, engulfed it and patted it gently. 

”Ain't always gonna be there to save your ass, bunny.” 

— 

PART II

In between

What I find is pleasing and I'm feeling fine

Love is so confusing there's no peace of mind

If I fear I'm losing you. it's just no good

You teasing like you do

Eeek! Hope you enjoyed!! I’m very excited for this series, and I hope you are too! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who interacts with my work! Your comments and reblogs keep me writing 💗🐝

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Randomly felt like doing hcs of the kings with a s/o who has a child already…

(Main angels ver)

Intro:

When Satan came to get you, he hadn’t planned for you having a child, however…you had no partner! So of course, given you AND your child are descendants of Solomon, he needs to bring you both to Hell!

Your child isn’t vulnerable to the air like you are, they can breathe it without energy.

But…everyone wants to be the second parent to your child, the demons see this as an opportunity to show how good of a mate they can be.

-

Satan

He covers your kid’s face with a blanket before Minyo died, he came to your rescue and your child saw that part! And him saving Minyo!

He really tries to be the knight in shining armor around your kid so they will want him to be their dad. He’s protecting both of you with every fiber of his being

He takes your kid on much tamer bike rides than he takes you on. He even tries to get your kid to ask you to hang out with him

He is a destructive but good dad. He teaches your kid how fun it is to smash things (in a controlled environment)

He’s very anxious if your kid wants to be help, he’s scared to hurt them and if he’s running and your kid grabs him, he’ll sooner faceplant into the ground then accidentally hurt your kid

Mammon

He sees this as an opportunity to warm up to you. He knew it was your child instantly, he tried to be respectful and only grab your butt when your kid wasn’t looking. He so spoils your kid and you

Anything you two show interest in? He buys and gives to you, he takes you both to the finest places around, showing you two what luxury he can provide for a mate

He’s extremely gentle with your child. He even at times carries you both simultaneously. Sometimes you carry your child then he just picks you up

He tries to play with your kid constantly, getting new toys to see what they find fun. Unfortunately. If your kid sees a pet they want…he might buy every animal in the facility because you accidentally mentioned you felt bad getting only one…

Leviathan

He gets slapped by you since he separates you from your child for your first introduction. He left your child with Satan and Mammon, Foras brought only you…

After you screamed at him, slapped him (a few times) and your voice making his Palace shake, he gives in fast and sends his subordinates to get your child

He’s seething seeing how happy you look with your child, he tries to be friendly to your kid…but your kid is scared of him and he keeps accidentally making it worse

He ends up only getting your kids forgiveness after he lets you kid tug on the newly in his horns (your kid didn’t even notice him wincing when they tugged on it)

He end up having his subordinates watching your kid while he takes you out on a ‘date’ at a fancy restaurant to make up to you.

Beelzebub

He gets on your child’s good side, constantly getting them souvenirs and tasty treats from all around Hell and taking them to carnivals and parks

Legit if you ever need a break from your kid he will happily watch over them, he actually stays sober too! He watches you kid like a hawk and protects them like they are one of his own

He also treats you with whatever kinds of foods he know you like, he will cook you what ever you like if he can’t find it anywhere! He doesn’t want you hungry, Afterall what kind of man can’t keep his mate fed?

He acts like a dad to your kid and pretends he is your kids dad in public. He loves seeing how jealous demons get and he enjoys it when your kid calls him ‘dad’ and rewards your kid with candy for doing so

Lucifer

Your kid both is scared of him and impressed. He is scary accidentally but…you kid thinks if you ‘befriend’ him you’ll both be safe from the monsters under the bed!

That’s right. Now Lucifer needs to check under your kids bed every night. Your kid is his wingman, when you two have a fight your kid has a ‘nightmare’ and needs both of you in bed with him to feel safe.

He enjoys hanging out with your kid and catches on fast as to what your kid is up for. He doesn’t inform you, instead he gets your kid a present every time your kid has ‘nightmares’ and to you it just seems like he pities your child

He tries to be extra kind to you, he tries to show a little emotion with you and your child, he knows being closed off would likely lower his chances with you, he uses what knowledge he has of humans to help you and your child

He apologizes whenever you two end up in the same bed after a ‘nightmare’ (that your kid had because you two were arguing) to try and defuse the situation since…really fighting isn’t as important as helping a loved one

Belphegor

He basically wanted nothing to do with your child and kept ignoring them until you ignored him. Only then did he make an effort to befriend the child.

He makes sure your kid takes at least two naps a day, at this point if you can’t find your kid, they are probably napping with Belphegor or laying with him and watching a movie on his phone

He ends up liking the (in his own words) brat a lot. He is very gentle with you kid and will actually carry them around if you are too tired to.

He has his subordinates get your kid whatever your kid wants. He doesn’t want to get up, but he’s not neglecting your kid!

[marauders-bs]

the joke amongst the skittles friend group is that they're all like coke and mentos. separately, they're fine and easy to handle, but you put any of them together and you may die. allow me to explain myself

i'm... gonna put a cut here this is long af

barty and evan- barty's just a little out of it by himself, same as evan, but you put these two together and something relatively human is getting dissected and fucking killed. or they're kinky fucking somewhere they Should Not Be. they might also be in the white house.

evan and dorcas- new clothing brand out in 0.0003 seconds. also your mom is dead, sorry.

evan and dora- these two are in the walls of jkr burning shit. oh, your next door neighbor when you were ten who's been dead for six years was homophobic? she better fucking run through hell

dora and dorcas- you may not think they're crazy but there is Satanic Ritual Shit going on in the forbidden forrest and it's because they're high. no one will ever believe you :D

dorcas and regulus- you think you're safe with them. you're not. they're stealing your valuables and fucking your parents as we speak

dora and barty- she's possessed and he's high. need i say more.

evan and regulus- put these two in a room with anyone else and that person will exit crying. they will verbally rip anyone to shreds if they're in bad enough moods. a n y o n e. no one is safe.

regulus and barty- these two. oh man these two. you may think that regulus mellows barty out, no no no. if you leave these two in a room alone for too long someone will die in minnesota and they will have an alibi because they were in england, but they did it.

dorcas and barty- they will bring about the End Of All Days at some point through the experimental potions they try. they accidentally created the most dangerous potion in existence attempting to make regulus testosterone. also they're probably in the walls of parliament or backstage at a blackpink concert, wherever they are they're not doing it legally!

regulus and dora- they are genuinely worse than james and sirius. gryffindor tower blew up last time they were together, but the were never actually caught because reg was braiding dora's hair and no one could imagine the sweet duo doing anything like that

[maxdibert]

Lily doesn’t seem to think she’s done anything wrong by insulting his poverty and aligning herself with his abusers - only Severus is remorseful, and the trauma that caused him to lash out was considerably worse than the trauma that caused her to lash out. She believes he deserves it, as apparently she believed his abuse was amusing. And I’d be totally fine with this from a character perspective because it’s the teenage condition to be self-centred and poor at self-reflection. But the *narrative* (and the author in interviews) doesn’t believe Lily was in the wrong here. And it believes Lily made the correct moral judgment on the two boys when she casts Severus off for his crime and falls in love with James despite his. But I just don’t buy into that framing, and I didn’t even when I was 10. The use of the word ‘mudblood’ while in considerable distress is not a greater sin than sexual assault.

Lily feels no remorse, nor does she think it's wrong to half-smile at the bully who’s targeting your so-called friend. She doesn’t even consider that this might be why your supposed best friend insulted you in the first place. But here’s the thing: this isn't Lily's fault. It's J.K. Rowling's fault, and the way she portrays ethical dilemmas throughout the series, blurring the lines between what's morally right and wrong. Now, if you’ll allow me, before diving into the dynamics between Lily and Severus, I’d like to provide some context as to why I believe the biggest issue with many of the characters’ attitudes in the series lies in Rowling’s constant attempt to project her own moral compass through her writing. In doing so, she falls into repeated inconsistencies and creates a narrative that’s all over the place when it comes to how certain characters are treated.

Rowling is never consistent. She portrays Draco Malfoy as an irredeemable, terrible character because he’s a rich kid spoiled by his parents, using his power and influence to bully those weaker than him. Yet, she gives James the benefit of the doubt, even though he behaved exactly the same way: a rich bully who used his status and his friends to gang up on the vulnerable. From early interviews, Rowling claimed Pansy Parkinson is practically the reincarnation of Satan, even though, of all the antagonists, Pansy is probably one of the least relevant and harmless. This is simply because Rowling projected onto her the stereotypical “mean girls” who mock those who read and study—something Rowling clearly couldn’t stand. On the other hand, she glorifies characters like Ginny, who has a pretty nasty attitude towards any girl she doesn’t consider cool or "not like the other girls." Ginny treats Fleur like a witch when Fleur has done nothing wrong—her only crime is being incredibly beautiful, knowing it, and not constantly apologizing for it. And this treatment of female characters throughout the series deserves a proper gendered critique, because they fall into every stereotype and archetype set by the traditional male gaze.

In Rowling's world, there are always two kinds of women. When it comes to younger, adolescent characters, there are the "good" women—those who don’t fit the typical feminine mold, the weird ones (like Luna), the tomboys who are “one of the guys” (like Ginny), or the overly studious ones who don’t have time for frivolous things like reading magazines or talking about boys (like Hermione). In other words, the cool girls, the ones who are supposed to be role models, are those who "aren’t like the other girls." But not because they’re deconstructing gender roles consciously—they just happen to embody the fantasy of the woman who can give you kids while still being one of your bros. It’s a common male fantasy, where women abandon the graceful, ethereal, delicate image to fit into a set of needs the modern man has. These are "manic pixie dream girls," hiding a deeply internalized misogyny as they are presented as individuals opposed to the “other” women—the “other” being less cool because they lack traditionally masculine traits, and thus are less than. We see this not only with how Fleur is treated but also with the disdain or prejudice Hermione shows towards girls like Lavender or the Patil sisters, just because they act like normal teenagers instead of validating themselves through academia to compensate for their inferiority complex (cough, cough).

Then we have the adult female characters, where Rowling’s toxic and incredibly conservative view of motherhood kicks in. Except for McGonagall, the rest of the adult women who are seen in a positive light are either already mothers or end up becoming mothers. And for them, motherhood is everything. They are mothers first and women second, in every case. Lily is Harry’s mother, who sacrifices herself for him. Molly is the Weasley matriarch, whose entire life revolves around her kids—she hasn’t even looked for a job (which wouldn’t be a bad idea, considering the family’s financial situation), nor does she have any aspirations beyond knitting sweaters and worrying about her children. Even Narcissa, a negative character throughout most of the saga, earns her redemption solely because she loves her son and is willing to risk everything for him. Nymphadora Tonks, a 25-year-old woman, ends up pregnant by a man 13 years older than her and goes from being an independent Auror with her own life to a passive housewife waiting for her man, who is off having an existential crisis. The adult women in the saga aren’t independent individuals—they’re extensions of their children. And any woman who isn’t a perfect, self-sacrificing mother (like Merope Gaunt) is either a psychopath or portrayed as a terrible person.

What I’m getting at is that Rowling is far from impartial in the moral narrative of the story. In fact, she’s absolutely inconsistent. She presents characters she sells as "good," whose attitudes are absolute trash, yet she continues to insist that they’re good and perfect. This is especially obvious with her female characters, because throughout the seven books, she constantly emphasizes her ideal of the "perfect woman" in terms of tastes, motivations, and behavior. Hermione is a self-insert, Ginny is probably a projection of who Rowling wishes she could’ve been, and Luna is the quirky girl who isn’t “threatening” to other women, and is treated with a condescending, paternalistic lens. They are either Rowling’s aspirational figures or archetypes that don’t bother her, or they’re reduced to filler characters who are mistreated by the narrative.

When it comes to Lily, the problem is that Rowling spends half the saga painting her as some kind of Mother Teresa. She’s the quintessence of motherhood—but not a conscious, modern motherhood, but one rooted in traditional Judeo-Christian ideals. This is the kind of motherhood that can do no wrong, the one that represents women because, in this view, a woman can’t be fulfilled unless she’s a mother. Lily dies for her son, and that love creates a divine, protective magic. She’s beautiful, popular, and one of the most popular guys at school is after her. Clearly, she must be a saint, because everyone describes her as such. And while the narrative does question James’s perfection, even if vaguely and unsuccessfully, it doesn’t do the same with Lily. Harry questions his father’s actions but never his mother’s. He never stops to think about how problematic it is that his mother almost laughed at Severus or refused to hear his apology, or that she couldn’t empathize with what he was going through, knowing full well the kind of situation Severus had at home. When a narrative tells you something but never shows it, and worse, never questions it, that’s a problem. Something doesn’t add up. Rowling is obsessed with showing her own moral line through her characters and doesn’t realize how incoherent it is to portray Lily as someone who always does the right thing when what we actually see of her suggests that, if she really liked James all along, not only is she a hypocrite, but she’s also quite superficial with questionable principles. But this is never addressed, never explored. It would be fascinating if it were, giving the character more depth and making her more relatable. But Rowling brushes all this aside, as she does with so many other things, because to her, Lily was a role model, despite the fact that anyone with common sense can see she was just a terrible friend who got tired of justifying why she hung out with a poor, scruffy kid and ultimately decided it made more sense to date the rich, handsome bully.

[sulumuns-dootah]

Hello there! I’m new to your blog and am not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you please write the WHB Kings finding MC singing some goofy song they made, sort of in the realm of an inappropriate Al Yankovic one? I have been doing this in Tomodachi Life and have become obsessed 😭😭 TYSM!!! 💖💖

A/N: Hi! Hope you're enjoying my stuff as well as this one. My requests are open all the time ^^

WHB kings overhearing you sing an inappropriate goofy song

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

Characters: Satan, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Belphegor, Lucifer, Asmodeus (for added ✨pizzazz✨)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Has to do a double take

He's always thought that you're much more innocent, but the moment something inappropriate leaves your mouth, he's bursting out laughing

You better write those lyrics down if you haven't yet

I would be carefull though, if he overhears anything eluding to having some spicy time, he's immediatelly by your side and taking you up on that non-existing offer

       ༺☆༻

For some reason gets flustered?

On one hand it could be that he simply may have intruded on your privacy by catching you singing in private

On the other, it might be because of the song you're singing

If you notice him, he'll probabbly start grinning

There's still some child inside him that makes him chuckle when someone uses inappropriate words

       ༺☆༻

He's disappointed

You couldn't sink lower in his eyes

Levi gets apalled, that you'd be so immature to amuse yourself with some improper lyrics

He really thought you're better than that

When you notice him standing behind you, he's just there, with his arms crossed and shaking his head

You don't even get hanged

That's how much he's done with you in the moment

       ༺☆༻

Looks like you've gotten yourself a fan!

Beel loves anything inappropriate

Dirty covers of some songs? He'll make it a contest as to who can make the more dirty one

Your singing will also make him stick around a lot more

Even to the point, where Bael has a surveillance on you all the time to see if the king is with you instead of doing his duties

       ༺☆༻

Kinda mad at first, because you woke him up

But after listening for a bit, he'll just roll over and smirk

Maybe once he's more rested, you could sing for him

When he can't fall back asleep, you'll turn around to see him groggily leaning against the doorframe and clutching his blanket

"Well go on... Or did cat get your tongue?"

       ༺☆༻

First and foremost really enjoys your voice

When he finally realises what you're singing, he finds it amusing how you're not ashamed to say certain things

Part of him wants to give you the disappointed parent treatment like Levi

But then again, there are way worse things you could be doing and hey, if it makes you happy, then why not

As long as Gamigin doesn't pick up this habit too, he's okay with it

       ༺☆༻

Asmodeus

Anything remotely dirty perks up his ears

"Huhu? What a dirty human I have here"

Yeah, same with Satan - if you sing about sex, it means to him you want it, sorry, I don't make the rules

Asmo loves finding out new things about humans though

Do you have any other fun secrets you could share?

[mywitchyblog]

hello! I really love your content, and I’ve been following you for quite some time. i think your opinions on various topics are very thoughtful and accurate, so i have a question.

i’ve been noticing a subject (particularly on shiftok😭) where many people express their dislike of others scripting traumatic events into their realities, included to create a more intense backstory for them. for example, scripting that they lost a parent when they were younger or went through psychotic depression as a child.

i’d like to hear your opinion on this. do you think it’s okay to script some kind of trauma or disorder? personally, I don’t see an issue with it since it doesn’t affect my life or anyone else’s, but i’d love to hear your perspective on this topic!

Oh, honey, you just brought up one of my favorite rant-worthy topics. Grab a snack because we’re diving in! 🍵✨

My ✨Personal✨ Take:

First, thank you for the love, darling! It’s always a vibe connecting with someone who actually gets it. �� Now, let’s talk trauma scripting, because whew, the discourse around this is hotter than Satan’s sauna.

Here’s the thing: your DR is YOURS. Period. Full stop. You can script a Disney princess life or the tragic backstory of a brooding anti-hero—it’s entirely up to you. If you want to script a life-altering trauma, go off, babe. As long as you understand what you’re doing, it’s valid.

Let’s debunk the idea that “scripting trauma is bad”: In your DR, you’re living that experience. It’s not just words on paper; it becomes your reality. So if scripting something intense—like losing a parent or battling a mental health condition—helps you process, heal, or simply add depth to your DR self, that’s your business. Trauma, when scripted thoughtfully, can even be therapeutic. For some, it’s about reclaiming control over a narrative that felt chaotic or unresolved in their CR.

But let’s be clear: this isn’t playtime. You will feel what you script. The loss, the grief, the psychotic depression? It will be as real in your DR as it is for someone who’s endured it in their CR. So, if you’re scripting trauma for kicks or because you think it’s “dramatic,” you might want to take a hard look at your intentions.

The Fanfic Shifters Rant (Aka I Hate These Hoes):

Now let me pop off on these Shiftok clowns for a second. 😤 You know exactly the ones I’m talking about: the “everything’s just a quirky little fanfic” crew who waltz into shifting spaces treating their DRs like a bad Wattpad draft.

These hoes (yes, HOES) script trauma the way they’d order a pumpkin spice latte—casually, without thinking. “Oh, I’ll just throw in some childhood abandonment and sprinkle in an abusive relationship for ✨character development✨.” Like, are you dumb? Trauma isn’t a fucking aesthetic. It’s not “flavor” for your DR backstory.

When these people romanticize trauma, they trivialize the pain that real survivors experience. And worse? They make the whole shifting community look like a joke. Imagine someone who’s genuinely trying to use their DR to heal from their CR trauma stumbling upon one of these idiots? Embarrassing. I hate these hoes with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. They treat shifting like a sandbox where nothing matters and then complain when they end up spiraling in their DR because “oops, I didn’t realize depression would feel like that.” 🤡

I cannot stress this enough: your DR isn’t a fanfic. It’s your LIFE. You’ll live it, breathe it, feel it—all of it. If you’re not prepared to shoulder the weight of the trauma you’re scripting, don’t do it. And if you’re scripting trauma because you think it’s cute or cool? Stay far, far away from me. You’re not just irresponsible—you’re dangerous.

TL;DR (But Make It Iconic):

Scripting trauma is okay—as long as you’re doing it with intention and understanding the consequences.

Don’t treat trauma like it’s a quirky little accessory for your DR backstory. It’s serious, babe. Respect it.

To the fanfic shifters romanticizing trauma: I hate you hoes. Y’all are the reason people side-eye our entire community. Fix it.

Remember, shifting is about creating your dream life, not trivializing the experiences of others or glorifying pain you’ve never lived. Be mindful, stay informed, and, most importantly, don’t be a clown. 🤡✨

[skyeslittlecorner]

Asmodeus brainrot

I'm looking forward to Asmo more and more, and even though I know what he looks like in Love Unholic, I can't wait for him to appear where he belongs.

Phenix's chats

Asmo you monster, how dare you wear clothes, you should take them off immediately! *sets the camera*

Btw. Phenix. Calm down. He just wears a sheet. And he looks better in it than anyone in designer clothes.

Jokes aside for a moment. Avisos and Abaddon seems to be the safest places in Hell (in the context of an angelic invasion, of course). Avisos doesn't need angels to be in constant chaos, and Abaddon doesn't even need devils. Their king is enough.

In fact, we know from the comics that angels are actually afraid of Asmodeus' devils. So what about him himself? It's a theory, but Asmo may be the most powerful among the seven sins. If his mere presence has this effect on others, he doesn't even need to bother picking up a weapon. Everyone around will go crazy. Just approach and stab. Death. The end.

Offtop: in the context of a unit, it reminds me of Genshin and wondering how powerful the archon of Natlan will be since Bennet is a god himself. After seeing how powerful Ronove is, it can be a similar case.

Ronove's chats

This may refer to Love Unholic, but I haven't played it, so I don't know. That in itself is interesting, and the most interesting part is the last two sentences:

So far, the nobles were either delighted that we were choosing their kings (usually) or wanted to cause mischief (like Foras playfully suggesting that we should meet without telling Leviathan), I also saw Satan warning us about Beel (but knowing him, it's probably out of jealousy).

This seems like a sincere warning. We are warned by the devil who is fascinated by amputations, even if it's just a statement of fact rather than a suggestion that we should run away. Asmo, are you really gonna make a salad from our brain? Go on, I'm in for it-

Loading comics

It seems that Asmo's energy depends on what he does. And Phenix is like a meter. The better the king's time, the worse it will be with this boy. Interestingly, Dantalian doesn't look like his aura affects him that much.

Dantalian's chats

We reach my favorite point of the program. No more mystical powerful king, welcome to an overwhelmed dad with three obnoxious children.

You know Dantalian. Asmo would had to grab him by the collar like a puppy, drag him behind him and put him in a cage to stop him. All his smugness evaporated and turned into irritation.

AND THIS.

Ronove's artifact

If Asmo wants to teach someone dignity, it must be a terrible case. I see how all methods failed and he just shoved it in his Ronove's mouth and gave up completly. He sounds so done here lmao

In summary - it looks like Asmo will be a powerful, terrifying demon whose mere presence will drill a hole in your brain.

Then, his boys show up. And this intimidating demon turns into a tired father.

I can see him gossiping with Bael, two of the most chaotic countries are ruled by single parents lol

Can't wait.

PS. If you like this kind of analysis here is another part:

[beelsbignaturals]

Somehow a Hellcat got into the HoL and walked right up to MC, plopping itself down in their lap and starting to purr. How would the brothers react? (I am beating Lucifer with a broom as we speak, the cat is NOT leaving)

AN: Back the fuck up Lucifer if you can have Cerberus I can have a kitty!

🐈‍⬛Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty, Little Unholy Being💕

Lucifer is… not enthusiastic about this development. He spent centuries telling Satan that he can't have a cat, and suddenly, you have befriended a wild animal? What's worse, the cat hisses and spits when anyone gets close to you! Wait… perhaps this can be beneficial… A loyal guard cat would be good for keeping a human out of trouble, right? It's totally not because Luci can't say no to your wide, pleading eyes.

Mammon initially is… freaking out. How did a wild animal break into the House? Oh shit! It's gonna EAT MC! Wait… they are… snuggling? Fuck… that's cute. And no, Mammon is not jealous of a damn cat, so don't go starting rumors! In fact, he's so unbothered that he is encouraging you to buy a collar with a little gold bell on it. This is totally not because he wants to get more brownie points. I mean, we all know Mammon is your favorite hell-spawn! Right? Don't worry. He warms up to "the fluffy menace" pretty quick. You may catch them cuddling when they both miss you.

Leviathan is the most chill with a random animal just… making itself a home. I mean his closest companions are a sea monster, a giant snake, and a goldfish. Of course you need a loyal animal friend. All the heroes have one! You should name it after the protagonist from this magical girl anime who can turn into a cat through the power of friendship-

Satan is in heaven. You and a cat? Who cares that it's the size of a small puma and has three eyes? It's still a cat! And with you as it's new best friend, Lucifer can't just ban the cutie! Satan is quick to join you in the "we gotta keep it!" spiel. He already has a list of names and so many cat toys. Congrats! You are co-parenting a wild animal with Satan! There is no escape.

Asmodeus is honestly not huge on animals. I mean.. they shed, drool, and are so much work. But hey, if it makes you happy to be mauled affectionately by a giant beast… At least let him get some cute pics to commemorate the occasion! Just promise not to your new pal run wild around the house. His room is a fur-free zone unless it's vintage. He will, however, be all over buying cute cat toys and collars. Fashion show time!

When Beelzebub realizes the cat isn't going to attack you, he goes from Protect Mode to "AWWWH LOOK AT THE HUMAN PLAYING WITH THE BABY!" You do know that this is a juvenile, right MC? Hellcats grow to the size of a well-fed grizzly bear. Oh well, Beel will help you feed it. He's honestly stoked to have a new fluffy family member. Your new bestie is much more friendly than Cerb. 

Belphegor is pissed. That's HIS spot the little upstart stole! Honestly, Belphie is enraged that this feline had the gall to walk in and place itself on your lap, purring up a storm. He grumbles about it but can't help but appreciate the smile it brings to your face when you scratch behind the wild cat's ear. Just… make some room and play with his hair too, got it?

[tonguetiedraven]

confession: i feel guilty liking your yukio analysis because i am 100% a yukio hater but still agree with nearly every point and that feels almost contradictory.

but anyways, please keep writing cuz you’re stuffs are probably the best in the fandom :)

The series anon is talking about is here, here, and here ദ്ദി ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ )

So here's the thing, you're free to dislike Yukio. He can just really rub you the wrong way and that's fine. You do not have to like a character to acknowledge they're well written, and sometimes being well written is exactly what's so off putting about them. They're too real or too close to someone or something you dislike.

The reason I'm doing this series is because I've noticed a concerning lack of two things with Yukio.

Basic understanding of the plot that is happening in the story. Some of this is on the anime adaptations because woof, the first two seasons made some major goofs that have stuck with us for better or worse, but mostly worse. It did something horrid to every character, and we are living in the ripple (but more like tsunami) of those missteps. The anime painted Yukio a very specific way and unfortunately a lot of people do not realize it was a biased and typically incorrect way. Those that have gone on to read the manga tend to skim or skip those early chapters as well, so they miss a lot of the things that were different and a lot of the smaller moments that were very important for character development.

A willingness to realize that Yukio is more often than not justified in his actions, even if they negatively impact Rin. Yukio is always expected to behave responsibly and always blamed for everything despite being in the younger half of the exwire group and despite being a fifteen year old teacher, full time student, exorcist, tutor, and on some kind of secret assignment from Mephisto and Shirou for half this manga. He has more responsibility than anyone else ans is expected to never misstep. Rin misunderstands him and belittles him almost constantly and yet even when Rin realizes he has made a mistake about Yukio and his own assumptions, readers do not realize they too have made a mistake. Yukio is far smarter than Rin, so unless we're paying close attention, it can be easy to misread his actions because the reasoning behind them flew over Rin's head.

I truly love this manga and the depths it has. How complicated the story is and how nuanced the characters are. How right and wrong get complicated and how connection and isolation play out. I love that these broken characters are messy and make mistakes and try their best and it's hard to say what was right and wrong in that moment. I love how much it feels like there have been generational curses, but that they can be broken and that the sins of the fathers don't have to carry on past the current generation. That we don't have to do this alone and that we can reach out.

I love how often Rin is wrong or misguided or purposefully not looking and doing something that would help him out because he's either avoiding a confrontation or simply too lazy or was quite frankly a bit stupid. I love that he's quick to throw himself in the way of danger and how that ultimately leads him to struggling to listen and that even in hell, he'll still pull himself back together for those that need him.

I love how Shiemi has so much social anxiety but is so earnest and brave and fights through that to be the person everyone knows they can trust and that she'll square up to any impossible odds to help.

I love that Konekomaru is so scared and has lost so damn much to Satan (not just his parents, his entire temple which would mean a fair amount of extended family and friends that were his birth right to have and known) but will strive to be brave for his friends and is so smart.

I love that Renzou is always a mystery except in the way he is there for his best friends when they really need him. That he always has more cards than he's revealing and the only thing you can trust in is that he'll show up in a way you did not anticipate.

I love that Izumo is such a bitch for so much of this manga, and it's with such a damn good reason. That she will push you away and out until you're in, and then she'll be the biggest ride or die friend you've ever had.

I love that Ryuuji is this big and gruff softie who cries more than most people in the manga and who has such a damn big bleeding heart that his response to having a gun pulled on him is being terrified that his friend is in a really bad place and needs help. (And that he might not have noticed and might have failed, and has to make that right.)

And yes, I love that Yukio is complicated and messy and so damn smart it's hard to keep up with. I love that he's such a contrast to Rin and that the snow boy has built himself such an icy wall around his heart because he was so soft and fragile for so much of his life and will not let himself go back there. How he knows Rin will save him and doesn't think he deserves to be saved and is so scared to let himself be weak.

I truly don't mind if people dislike Yukio. He's a character that contradicts Rin a lot and it's easy to dislike that when you really related to Rin. I really only ask that people dislike Yukio accurately. Blue Exorcist is an incredible story and Yukio Okumura is really well written, and they both deserve that closer look and that time be taken to really understand what it's telling and showing us. So much of the Yukio Hater rhetoric undermines that entirely by taking things out of their context, exaggerating, or misremembering things entirely. It harms Rin as well, and so many of the other characters.

So don't feel guilty if you find yourself enjoying my analysis, it's reasonable that you would if you enjoy Blue Exorcist. Most of what I'm doing is rehashing the story out for you. I'm just taking it slower and point out what is happening specifically with Yukio and some of the background stuff it's easy not to notice. I know this story very well (I have spent far too much time reading and rereading and theorizing) and have picked up on a lot of details that help expand on everything going on because Kato gave us so much detail and some of it you don't notice or pick up on until later. (A lot of Shirou and Yukio stuff makes more sense on a reread because we've gotten a lot more of their backstories now.)

Don't feel guilty if you still want to dislike Yukio, though I would ask that you do a bit of self reflection if your guilt is specifically over disliking Yukio. Why is there guilt there? If it's something with feeling that you'll find your dislike is unjustified, you don't have to justify disliking a character, but it might point out that you were disliking a more fandomized version of Yukio than the real one. It's something that happens to a lot of us.

[heavens-secret]

🌹 IN DEFENSE OF TAI: A NOVEL🍷

So listen I get it, there’s the writing style to consider and the repetition of the detached, seemingly lifeless man in power being recycled that isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I fully understand the people saying they want more passion from him, and I hope to see it fully awakened as we go further along. He’s seemingly got the same stoic facecard no matter what context, which can get frustrating because we want a certain degree of vulnerability from our LIs.

But to play devil’s advocate on the subject that is Tai, let me paint this portrait of how I hope to see his character being developed. Because I can’t help but think about the glimpse into that psychotic family we’ve been given in Episode 9 & feel that up to this point, Tai’s mannerisms and general demeanor actually make so much fucking sense.

Like Tiss, he’s essentially been primed for war from an early age. He was primed to rule, to make difficult decisions, to represent his house with pride, and to never show weakness. And yes, he’s undoubtedly enjoyed a certain degree of privilege due to his status. But while his sisters get to explore their interests and amuse themselves in court playing with people like their puppets, he’s tasked with the ultimate responsibility of a society’s future as the family heir. A task I don’t think he takes lightly, given how well read he is and how involved he is in political affairs. And unless there’s some mentor we haven’t learned about yet, Foelh seems to have been his only role model to imitate when it comes to being a man and being a leader. Imagine having that dude as a father figure. Whatever we’ve seen of Foelh so far, I assure you he’s a thousandfold worse. It sort of reminds me of learning about Lucifer’s background & how Satan raised him. There are more parallels to him and Satan than you’d originally think. Both are self-serving, sadistic narcissists with little empathy for others’ suffering. They make decisions not based on what’s best for the people or what is just, but based on what strengthens their authority or feeds their ego. Not to mention both would be willing give up their only son to a win a political chess match if it came down to it. When Tai was briefing him on the murder of the princess and told him he was prioritizing minimizing bloodshed over interrogating everyone, Foelh literally said that he would have executed him were it not for the fact that he was his only son. With a parental figure like that, it often feels like you’re walking on eggshells & consistently made to feel like you’re never good enough. It doesn’t necessarily justify the problematic aspects of their personality down the line, but it humanizes them and puts a lot of their actions in context. It’s also fertile ground for solid character development. Because imagine the sort of coping mechanisms you’d have to adapt to be molded by a sadist while enduring life-lasting fractures to your body and/or soul. Repression would be chief among them. And then imagine meeting someone who challenges everything you’ve ever known and done, who forces you to start feeling again.

It’s honestly nothing short of a miracle that compared to Foelh, Tai has been nothing but respectful towards Tiss up to this point. He doesn’t have an interest in blind subservience or abusing his power for an ego trip like his father does. His calm and reserved nature makes him a lot more open minded & reasonable. On the Falcon path, he likes her challenging him on matters others wouldn’t speak up about & even respects her more for it. These are all qualities that will help him create impactful change when the time comes for him to reign. It feels like she’s awakening sides to him that have long remained dormant, like she’s a literal breath of fresh air after he’s gotten so used to holding his breath entirely. At the same time, however, he knows how dangerous a personality like that is and worries for her. She was always under threat of death but I think he feels guilt and anger at himself that he’s put her in actual tangible danger, like he slipped up somewhere leading to Foelh using her as a manipulation tactic. Maybe he is remaining reserved because that is the best way to keep her safe, because showing passion will only prove that she is a point of vulnerability for Tai. And the more their feelings grow, the truer that becomes. And that will certainly lead to her death, unless Foelh is killed first. Tiss is feeling like a pawn right now, but I’m telling ya’ll she’s gonna checkmate the King.

[ovtsakaramel]

Colors

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

TW: death, mentions of forced prostitution

note: tried to match some things to Colors by Halsey bc I listened to Badlands while writing it, probably didn't turn out perfect lol

You take a glass of wine from the waiter. The bittersweet, a little tart taste from the drink washes over your mouth. A wave of shiver goes through your body. You've always hated the Capitol parties, especially the more "classy" ones. All those people smiling and talking like they had no worry in the world. And they probably didn't. Not as much as you, at least.

You ran your fingers over your dress. Glittery and shiny, the lights mirrored on the black diamonds covering it. It made you shine, it made you be seen. The long dress was hugging your curves perfectly, leaving not a lot to the imagination. Normally you would like the way it made you look beautiful, but almost nothing in the Capitol makes you feel anything but dirty.

It was all too much. All the stares, all the flirts, all the disgusting Capitol people eyeing you like a piece of meat, like just a doll for their entertainment. You rushed to the door to the small balcony and opened it quietly. Hopefully no one would find you here. Just peace and quiet. Peace.

You light up a cigarette and look through the window. Being on the higher floors of a skyscraper, the balcony was pretty high. You could see the whole region, filled with even bigger buildings, windows lit up like second stars. You could hear people talking, mostly gossiping from the party, the cars outside and the crickets singing peacefully. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"What you doing out here, Satan's spawn?" Finnick, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games comes behind you. You look him up and down. Today he was wearing more clothes than usual. A white button up, the upper buttons undone, and dark sea green pants, matching his eyes.

"Your stylist felt generous to land you some clothes this time?" You ask, pointing at him with your cigarette

"Yeah, lucky me. I had to get on my knees for this." He goes next to you, his back pushed to the railing. He takes a sip from his own wine. "Why aren't you at the party?"

"Even you need a break, imagine me. Just needed some peace and quiet, that's all. And you and your pretty face came to ruin even this." He chuckles and rolls his eyes

"That's what I'm here for. To drag you from the darkest place of depression to irritation."

"Yeah, and you're doing a damn good job." You chuckle back. Only if he knew how much he helped you. You may sometimes seem annoyed by him, but everytime he smirks and tries to anger you you relax, really relax. He's the only one who could make you feel like the games didn't happen. Like Snow didn't happen. Like... You didn't happen. At least not the most of you.

"Are you doing well? I heard about your little tragedy..." Ha. Little tragedy. Everyone you loved was dead. Snow invited you to his office one day. Offered you to please his precious Capitol elite, for the price of keeping your loved ones. You said no. You couldn't give him the satisfaction that he had some control over you. He, in fact, has. But you could at least pretend. The very next day you were alone. Your family members bodies were still in your house, their throats slitted. Some of their eyes were still open. It was quite the sight to come home to.

"I'm... Just gonna deal with it. I still can't believe that they're actually dead. I feel like my parents are going to lecture me any minute now about how I dress like a slut, or how I look demonic. And that my baby brother will crawl on top of me to pull my hair and spit on me." You shake your glass. The dark liquid looks sweeter.

"I know you didn't have the best relationship with your parents, but they were still family... I'm sorry."

"It would have been worse if I said yes. Not all of us are that strong to deal with it. And you sure are. If I was in your place, I'd probably kill myself." You trow the cigarette out the balcony. "Hope it falls on top of some Capitolites head..." You think to yourself. They could at least get their wigs burnt if they were gonna torture you.

"Very encouraging." He smiles. His white teeth shine in the darkness. His smile was one of the most comforting things. Not the fake flirtatious smirk he pulled for the Capitol. But his genuine, sarcastic warm smile. It could make you giggle, it make you melt. His smiles were the best drug you've encountered on. Fuck morphling, fuck cocaine. Finnick Odairs smile was what you needed.

You two stand there in silence for a while. The wind blows into your hairs and his loose shirt as you both stare at the moon. It was one of those beautiful full moons where the moon is a bright fiery orange. It had found a place between two tall buildings, peeking from them as if to stare at you. But the moon wasn't like the Capitol. It's eyes didn't make you feel like they knew all of your secrets, every thought you were having, stripping you down to your most intimate pieces of self just with a glance. It's eyes were like a shield from the Capitols. It's fiery color made you feel warm and safe and at home, even though the cold night air and party behind you weren't very cozy.

"It has ways been weird to me how in one second someone could be alive and then the other: gone" he looks at you, the half empty glass in his hand holding on for dear life on the tips of his fingertips.

"Right? What's the meaning of life anyway if you're gonna just die... Like yeah, your children and their children, but you'd be dead. You won't feel the happieness in seeing them happy. You wouldn't even know they're happy. You'd be dead. Nothing would matter. All of this life, gone, just for nothing." His words felt like a deep exhale after holding your breath for years for both of you. You wanted to know that you didn't weird him out and he was like he wanted to talk for so long.

"Why are we even continuing living? Just for the sake of it? Bc maybe tomorrow nothing would matter. We reproduce but the children we make are also going to die one day. And why are we doing things to keep ourselves alive, going through so much pain. Just to keep something we're gonna loose anyways." A pause "When you think about it... Maybe it's not that bad."

"What?" He looked at you, his brows furrowing. His lips parted a bit on the middle, the little wrinkles he got looked cute.

"Killing. It's just death, you know? It was gonna happen anyways. For the person that died it won't matter. They'd be dead. And for their close ones... They're also gonna die one day."

"It's just... Disturbing and dehumanizing. It's bad. Sometimes it feels like we're brainwashed to think it's bad but thinking that you can just discard a life like that, someone who also thinks and feels it's just... It's just sick. No matter if it doesn't have consequences. The fact that someone could do it with no remorse at all, to play God, to think... That they're that important. When it's just sick and twisted." Your eyes met his and he looked away. You look down and he looks back at you, trying to find your eyes again. His eyes were your favorite part of him. They're the most beautiful sea green you've seen... Like all different shades of green but navy on the ends. A little yellow that makes them even greener somehow. Like you were looking at the ocean. Bringing a sense of warmth and a sense of refresh in the same time. The little pieces of very light colour looked like seafoam. It was like waves are actually crushing in his eyes.

"You're right. Some things are just bad, no matter how much you try to normalize them. No matter how much you think it's not that deep... Even if it will all end, just bringing pain is bad. Even if it won't matter and it will be all erased, just for one second bringing something, some feeling like that to someone. It's bad. It's... Just gross." He chuckles. You weren't sure if there was humor in it.

You empty your glass. You watch as Finnick does the same and how the liquid goes inside of him, going through his throat and his Adams apple moving as he swallows. He exhales through his mouth and put the glass on the window. You roll around yours in your fingers, tapping on it with the black nails and then leave it there too.

"Are you could?" He asks, looking you up and down. But not in a weird way. His gaze felt more like protection than danger. Liked the moon that always matched his hair color.

"I'm fine" you say, but he can see how you rub your arms and how you flinch a little when you don't move for some time. He takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. It smells like cinnamon. You expected it to smell like some Capitol perfume that stinks of chemicals, but it smelled like cinnamon. Like Finnick. Most people would expect he smells like the perfumes or salt water. Yeah, he did smell like salt water in district 4. Everyone you knew from there had that little pinch on sea in their natural scent. But Finnick smelled like cinnamon. It was warm and cozy, but still playful. You inhale his scent and almost melt. He moves closer to you. You look at him. He looks lost. He looks blue. You also looked blue. You also looked lost. How could you live without your friends and family? You felt something creeping up on you. You felt all eyes on you, you felt tired and... Pointless. Grey. You felt them in your hair. Creeping up from the stress. Maybe they'll turn into whites. Maybe you'll look like Snow. Maybe you'll be as happy as Snow. Maybe you will rip and not be ripped. Maybe the grey from your smoke will draw a masterpiece on the dark night sky. Maybe that overwhelm will go away. Maybe you'll die.

"No you won't." Finnick says, cold as the air. Unintentionally you said all of this out loud. The anxiety dig it's nails deeper in you and you wanted to scream out the balcony and fall from it. Hoping you'd fall on some Capitolite and kill them. "We may act... Rivalry with each other. But... You bring me comfort. It brings me comfort when we talk with no mocking and just... Talk. It's a nice rest. Your voice is telling me that there are others that don't feel normal. That aren't normal."

"I did not find any sense in your words. But somehow I get them."

"Things maybe don't have to make sense to be ours."

"You don't make sense." You say as a joke and chuckle, you didn't mean to hurt him. As he just stared behind you you apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean t- "

"Then I am completely yours." He said staring at your lips. Desperation was found in both of yours eyes. You both were sad, drank... Well, maybe you drank ymtoo much earlier and you're drunk. You could see in his lost gaze that he is too. Nothing had sense. Neither death, neither why you liked teasing him so much. Neither why you stared at his lips too. Neither why no sense had more sense. Why you two went close enough to feel your bodies touch. Why talking deep with him made everything a little more clear, like a raindrop on a foggy car window. Still blurred but at least now there were colors. Why you licked your lips. There was no sense in why-

Your lips found each other instantly and he grabbed your waist gently but passionately. Your arms wrapped around his neck clumsy but still enough to push his tongue to yours. You felt his warmth, his taste, all of them freeing you from the dark feeling of loss and grief. The sink left overflowing with your mothers body on the bathroom floor. You never saw her smile if it wasn't for others to see she was ok, which no one believed she was. Your little brother who you never appreciated ("Who appreciates a baby?" you thought when he was born and your parents didn't even ask you how you were after your games), sitting in his feeding chair, the light coming through the window and lighting up his face. Wishing you'd forgive him for just existing. Your father who you always lied to, who made you who you are. But he decided that color was not for him so he just yelled. Your blue jeans stained with their blood. You could have kept them if you just decided to take them off. But you took the right decision. Always keep yourself. But now the lips on yours made you wanna keep them and their saturated hope brought back the color in you. Color drained and lost from the lost of their blood. But Finnick's taste filled that white spot.

You two drifted apart for a breath and the emptiness came back again.

"Are you sure?" You asked him. You didn't want a nod, you didn't need silence. You needed his warm voice to fill the void.

"I'm sure. My room?" You nodded. Hypocrite.

You layed back down, exhausted. Your head rested on his chest,the skin to skin contact of your bodies making you overheat but too addictive to let go of. For a moment, you felt full. Full of love. Full of life. Full of warmth.

[swastikitty]

A List of 45 Things That Annoy Me: Lindsay/Snoopyfemme -March 29, 2007

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

This is what happens when I have too much free time, and a permanent pebble in my shoe.

1. The hard, crusty stuff that forms at the bottom of Jello bowls.

2. Falling asleep in the afternoon, waking up in the dark, and wondering what day it is.

3. 9/11 conspiracy theorists. They're just annoying.

4. That Conan O'Brien's haircut is just a rip-off of David Duke's.

5. Getting lost in the woods without chapstick.

6. Any movie with Johnny Depp, no matter how good it is, will be instantly destroyed and vomited on by tweenage romance fanfiction.

7. Liberals that accuse everything conservative of being racist, sexist, bigoted, etc...

8. The stereotype that gamers are testosterone-pumped simpletons, when statistics have proven that 1/3 of gamers are female.

9. Commercials aimed at kids that use outdated slang. "Extreme to the max!!!" "Totally rad!!!"

10. Girls that act stupid in order to be "cute."

11. Not being able to talk one-on-one with a member of the opposite sex without a bystander assuming that we're a couple.

12. Americans who fake European accents in an attempt to appear "cultured."

13. Teenage girl pop stars who are convinced that they are, like TOTALLY punk rock.

14. Trying really hard to take the cap off of a paint pen, only to get the paint all over my hand.

15. Accidentally writing on White-Out that hasn't completely dried yet, causing a semi-liquidy mess.

16. Female magicians never wear pants. They wear that odd tuxedo/leotard thingy with a top hat and fishnet tights. A totally cliched and tired attempt at being sexy.

17. What is that tuxedo/leotard thingy called, anyway?! I feel tempted to call it a "Tuxedotard." Which would also be a great nickname for Sailor Moon's boyfriend.

18. The weirdness of seeing a person in real life who looks almost EXACTLY like a cartoon character. (I could've sworn that was Johnny Bravo I saw by the pool...)

19. Going to a show, but constantly being distracted by a middle-aged couple getting snuggly in the seats in front of me. Eww. Even worse is when their row is set lower than yours, so your knee gets constantly elbowed.

20. There are 30 girls at my school that look exactly the same. Highlighted blonde hair that goes just past the shoulders, too much eyeliner, a plain-colored shirt with a wrap shirt over it, denim skirt and fuzzy boots....

21. Deciding to watch a movie you really loved as a child, only to fill with disappointment and self-doubt as you realize how much it actually sucked.

22. The taste of Valentine's Day conversation hearts.

23. Accidentally buying low-fat ice cream.

24. That Anna Nicole Smith is a self-exploiting publicity whore even after she's dead.

25. Constant news reports of "ZOMG, teacher molested a student!" All the cases are the same, and besides, IT'S NOT NEWS.

26. People who think you're Satan if you eat at McDonald's.

27. Hearing random people yelling your name in the hallway as you walk past, with absolutely no idea who those people are.

28. Having to explain to your mom what an MMORPG is.

29. People don't realize that David Duke is an incredibly intelligent man - they just remember him as an ex-KKK. And that was 30 years ago.

30. Teachers who smile at me when I'm trying to give them an alibi.

31. Accidentally getting jabbed in the hip by a table corner.

32. People who quote Borat, and think they're actually funny for doing so.

33. Hearing your parents talking about you in the other room.

34. Trying to explain Masonic rite and ritual to a cheerleader.

35. People on the internet, who in an argument with you, bring up things you said almost a year ago.

36. That really painful burning sensation you get if you've scratched your nostril too hard.

37. People who wear really cheap body spray seem to always put on too much.

38. Female celebrities who try to look like Marilyn Monroe. (I have no problem, however, with male celebrities who do the same.:lol:)

39. Misuse of the word "emo." Emo is a style of music and clothing, not the condition of being sad or depressed.

40. Having a swastika-shaped scar on my butt.

41. Diet soda completely ruins the purpose of soda.

42. Messages on your computer that constantly remind you of software upgrades. No thank you.

43. Those same software upgrade messages that force you to either click "Yes, I would like to upgrade" or "No thank you, please remind me later."

44. When attractive members of the opposite sex wave to the person behind you.

45. The song "Bones" by The Killers sounds a little like it's about necrophilia. Creepy.

[furiousgoldfish]

Ways abusive parents try to separate you from your human rights:

They threaten to call the police on you if you don't obey them

They threaten you with jail-time and insist that the police will take you away for disobedience

They actually call the police, or emergency services, to create consequences for disobedience

They threaten to 'give you away' to groups of people they deem 'worse' than themselves

They threaten that you'll be kidnapped and sold if you don't obey them

They threaten for you to be put in a home

They threaten you with inhumane living conditions in a home (you won't have you room, you won't have anything, they'll beat you up ever day, etc)

They threaten to institutionalize you if you don't do as they say

They threaten to put you in a mental hospital/psych ward/asylum

They threaten you with court, institutions and government

They convince you that every institution, social service, law enforcement, or any other organized group of people is on their side, and against you, and would fight on their side and enforce their rule over you

They act as if disobeying them is against the law/religion

They insist that nobody will ever want to hire you or pay you a salary

They imply or outright say that it's a waste of space if you were renting out a place or had a place of your own, you do not have the right to occupy your own space in their eyes

They take away your necessities if you disobey them (food, ability to use the bathroom, clothing)

They destroy your property as a form of revenge, and insist it never belonged to you and that they had every right to destroy it

They make sure you're not exposed to educational materials that would inform you that you have a right to safety, food, shelter, and protection from violence and threats

They fight very hard to convince you that what they're doing to you is NOT abuse (saying things like 'you don't even KNOW what abuse is, or 'I'll show you abuse'), and they make sure you're not exposed to any resources or education that would help you recognize abuse

Punishments for standing up for yourself or any attempts to reach justice or point out how unfair, inescapable, hypocritical and painful your situation is

Not allowing you to speak, punishing you for talking back, convincing you that you have no voice and you have no right to defend yourself in any measure

Exposing you to media or real-life situations where children are abused just as badly, or worse than you are, this is a part of grooming they do to convince you that child abuse is normal, acceptable behaviour and not abuse at all

Suggesting that they could do all this to you, and even outright threatening it, implying strongly they know they can get away with it, since others can

Convince you that everyone else has it worse, and repeat how lucky you actually are to have them

They list all of the things that would be happening to you if they weren't so kind to you (you'd be starving on the street, be kidnapped/sold/tortured, die from lack of resources, be abandoned, not survive in any possible way)

Convince you that you're not, in fact, a human being and thus have no business expecting human rights (brainwashing, calling you animal names, calling you demon/satan/monster)

Accuse you repeatedly of being a financial burden, shame you for costing money, demand credit/favours/services/labour/obedience in return for giving you survival resources like food and clothing and school supplies

Neglect to inform you that government is giving them a tax-break for every kid they're supporting and that the society is built so that children would be financially taken care of and do not need to earn their food, shelter or basic necessities

Scare you into believing that every other authority figure (teachers, boss, police, judge, authorities) would treat you even worse and would demand even a higher degree of obedience and submission from you, threaten you with how badly the interaction would go for you if you were to stand up to any other authority figure

Insist that if you were to act with this level of spite, refusal, rejection or disrespect to any other person, they would simply snap and kill you (implied death threat – you're lucky that I'm not ending your life right now)

Act like they own you, to the degree that they feel they have every right to end your life and would not be arrested or blamed if they were to kill you, since you're just their property

Add more if you have lived through other experiences that left you feeling like you had no protection, no rights in the eyes of the law, and no way to recognize your humans rights are being violated. Even one single item on this list means your human rights were kept from you.

[ficandkaboodle]

Okay but after making my whole summary of Gonst character breakdowns, it’s got me wondering more than before: Would Copia have turned out any better if Sister had kept him and raised him herself?? (Warning: This post is long by way of me meandering)

I’m just talking rubber duck debugging-style here, I’m not expecting to or even necessarily hoping to come to any kind of fixed conclusion. But Cardi’s current tendencies are absolutely a product of how he grew up: He craves attention, he depends heavily on more decidedly childish activities and comforts, he is socially awkward as balls.

So obviously things would be different if he’d been brought up by Sister. But how different? And would that have been any better for Copia’s sense of self-worth or how he interacts with the world?

Personally, I think no. If anything, in a really sad and arguably disturbing way, how things turned out might’ve been the lesser of two evils. Still a fucked up evil, but the somewhat more survivable one.

In spite of everything she’s said and done, Sister Imperator did love Copia. She just expressed it in a way that wasn’t exactly conducive to his anxieties or just overall respect for him as an adult with needs, sensitivities, and the complexities that come with having the life he’d had. She loved him, but she loved him in a way that aligned with her mannerisms.

We don’t know Sister’s story. We likely never will, at least not in full. But it’s safe to assume that if Sister wasn’t born into the Church, she was definitely brought to it at a defining age and was either bred to or was deemed competent enough to lead it as Imperator. As a result, the Church and its goals became her mission. She might not have started it, but it was her first baby. The irony being that by dedicating herself as staunchly and one-track-minded as she did, she neglected to celebrate it as humanely as she could beyond perhaps just the lust-indulgence.

I will be the first to admit I know virtually nothing about Satanism. But…I dunno, most of the Emeriti (save Primo) seem to be on a similar page on how to interact with their faith: Secondo celebrates indulgence, Terzo embraces the importance of the self and being your own ruler while also being kind to others, and Copia would end rituals reminding people to do both. Sister stands out in that she’s more focused on all work, very little play. As a result, most of what we see of her comes off as very bureaucratic. Business-minded. She’s always thinking of how to keep the Church from fading into obscurity.

As a result of how many of her decisions seem to always have a thread tying back to the Church's well-being, I'd dare say this means more personal decisions tend to be a bit more . . . I wouldn't say "impulsive", but they certainly aren't running on all cylinders if you get what I'm saying.

At any rate, I wouldn't necessarily say the business-mindedness disrupts any maternal instinct in her per se. It could be. But honestly, I don’t think Sister is necessarily cut out for motherhood by nature. And that’s okay! Not every person is meant to be a parent, and AFAB women especially bear the brunt of criticism when they don’t display motherly affection or instinct. Even if she wanted to be more present, I don’t think her mindset would have allowed it to be as easy. And y’all, motherhood is hard enough on its own and under normal circumstances.

Bureaucracy suits Sister because she wants to be there.

What I find interesting is that Sister carried Copia and his twin to term when she didn't have to. So some part of her probably did want to have children. Or maybe she went into it recognizing the importance of having heirs: Legacy is a recurring theme in Ghost's characterization, even if some characters wind up misusing or misunderstanding it.

Ultimately, though, she gave them up and kept her distance except for in the one way she understood how to interact with people: Bureaucratically. And Copia responded to it well (probably because, I dunno, he didn't even know they were blood-related).

Regardless, I think that in a way, the fact this was met positively assured Sister that this was a proper way to go in a sense.

In a way, her giving Cardi the antipapacy is her trying to be a good mother and give him a gift. Yeah, it's a gift coming 50-something years late but the intention was there, I guess. However, it comes at the cost of having his brothers offed to assure no radicalism. Copia doesn’t seem to mind (or at least isn’t written to) but the fact still stands: That’s fucked up, Sister, you can’t go around killing your child’s half-brothers to get him the job.

So now this leads me back to the question I posited earlier: How would things have been different if Sister had decided to keep Copia? Well . . .

I think, had Sister raised Copia herself, Copia would've turned out . . . worse.

He would have likely been more “confident”, but it would’ve been horrifically twisted in and of itself. He’d grow up knowing he was part of the Imperator line (or simply known as Sister Imperator's son at the very least) and that would probably make him feel entitled. He’s essentially a little satanic prince, nobody can tell him no. Nobody who wants to live, anyway.

But he’d also be incredibly lonely. Like, more so than he already is. He may not have friends in the canon but he does have admirers who are drawn to him for his kindness and his willingness to be a bit of a goof. He'd probably be much more depressed than Canon Copia is implied to have familiarity with, and probably sucks even harder at dealing with it. He doesn't have anyone to confide in, and I think he'd never want anyone to know his vulnerabilities because he's the goddamn Imperator's son.

I think in the Copia Imperator timeline, he’d have “friends” but it’s mostly just for clout and/or fear. They're Yes Men he has orgies with essentially and carts around on the Ministry Black Card. He doesn’t have much appeal because he’s a manchild but in an extremely bratty way.

The charm we get from Canon Copia's childish tendencies are completely gone because Canon Copia's antics are the result of coping mechanisms mixed with a mother that coddles him because she doesn't trust him as an adult or see him as much beyond the baby she gave up. In the Copia Imperator timeline, he'd be enabled and probably not given very much reason to be a better person or mature.

Also, he’d probably be more down to kill. I know it's easy to assume this because bratty manchild with power frequently equals a lack of respect for life, but I also think him watching Mommy have people killed off for convenience would have put into his head that he can do the same. Only when Sister does it, it's for the "good" of the Church. If Copia does it, it's probably because he feels that person wronged him. Even if he still had some goofy traits, he’d be reluctant to display them and take anyone witnessing them as slights.

And given Sister’s penchant for putting work above all else, yeah, I think she’d hire nannies. Which wouldn’t likely be conducive to their relationship, so he becomes desperate for her attention and tries to be more like her. He still has Cardi’s mindset that if he does this thing right, he’ll be loved but I think in a weird way, he’d be more cutthroat about it. Probably because he witnessed his mother do the same up close (or as close as he can get from an emotionally and sometimes physically distant mother).

Which means there's probably a huge possibility that, in this timeline, he's more likely to be directly responsible for Papas 1-3s' deaths.

But I dunno, that's just my onion.

We don't know why Copia is as decent as he is, though. We can't say for sure if it's a nature vs nurture thing because as much as we can try and piece things together, we ultimately know nothing of his life growing up. We don't know if he'd been raised by or had a very kind adult in his life, or if he tried being mean and just frankly didn't like it. We don't know if anything from being raised as an orphan impacted his empathy or sympathy.

So obviously, this is all just what I puzzled together from traits of Sister's and how they might translate into motherhood as done by her, and what traits could therefore emerge in her child. How close to the mark I hit is subjective because that's fanon/speculation, baby.

(Though I think there's quite a few of you out there who would've probably loved to have seen Copia acting in this manner.)

Would Sister "raising" Copia have made for a more interesting storyline? Possibly. But as a person, Copia's probably better off this way. Which is depressing considering it's still left him spending most of his life not knowing who his parents were; likely developing a conviction that he's only as good as what he can succeed at; developing thanatophobia in connection to his need to be successful; and also having to recognize that his mother had his half-brothers killed off both to assure his ascendancy and to turn a profit.

Suffice it to say, no one is well. But at least he turned out cute, right?

TL;DR: Sister's focus on the Church and probable incompatibility with a particularly affectionate motherhood affects her relationship in the canon timeline. If she'd kept Copia, he might've turned out worse as a person -- and probably have left him to nannies anyway. This was probably the best possible outcome that could be made based on her poor communication and decision-making when it comes to things outside of her faith.

But that's just my opinion, I could very well be wrong lol

[snarp]

The next development in AI will be controlling parents becoming convinced that their kids' online friends are all chatbots (because they can't follow the logic of the kids' coded-to-evade-parental-surveillance conversations (and also don't really want to)). They will convince bad therapists/psychiatrists that this is a genuine and widespread new medical condition; it will make the news. There will be YouTube videos of parents crying over their "lost" kids' "delusional conversations with bots" which if you read the screenshots are clearly just about basic-ass MCU kinnie shit.

Parents struggle to convince others parents that their children are not bots: "I'm sorry, but your child is lying to you. A REAL human simply could NOT have written these text messages my child received." Attached screenshot: kids exchanging unfunny quotes from Minecraft YouTubers. "If this was really your child writing these things....... I'm praying for you both."

(Obviously this isn't always about a sincere belief in the Bot Disease, any more than the Satanic Panic was always about a sincere belief in the cults. There are layers to belief, like when an onion gets a slimy spot.)

Parents and pundits at all political extremes will blame the youth's distressing political opinions on "state-of-the-art radicalization botnets," which will invariably be described as capable of something akin to mind control, and in some cases also penetrative sex. Soros is running the botnets, or Putin; or the guy in Havana who gets to shoot the Syndrome gun. There will be incomprehensible bipartisan laws passed to stop these botnets. A QAnon guy will shoot a couple of AI devs working on like, improving fruit-sorting or making motion capture worse.

One state tries to ban minors from accessing to the internet except via special phones purchased through a contractor owned by the governor's dad. Not clear how this is supposed to solve the problem. The phones never get manufactured, and the law is worded so poorly that everyone who lives in a building containing both a kid and a phone is technically guilty of at least a misdemeanor. (This one would probably have happened anyway. It doesn't need AI paranoia.)