#But I don't really Want to make more happen just for the sake of it. Yknow?

[coraniaid]

Okay, look:

The reason people often read Faith as being openly and unashamedly attracted to women (or at least more so than Buffy) isn't because they somehow missed the fact that Faith is full of ill-disguised self-hatred. (Of course she is, that's fundamental to her character.) It's not because they missed the fact Faith flirts with random men all the time but doesn't do the same thing with women. It's not because they missed the fact Faith never actually refers to herself as a lesbian or as bisexual and never mentions any previous girlfriends when she's describing her dating history to Buffy. It's not because they missed that she never openly asks Buffy out.

Given the era in which Buffy was made -- given that Eliza Dushku was being given explicit instructions by at least some of the writers to dial down any lesbian subtext as late as her appearances in Season 1 of Angel -- all that is kind of a given. (I think some people in today's fandom really underestimate just how much of a huge deal Willow coming out in Season 4 was. This was not something that happened on popular genre TV programs. By modern standards the show is painfully coy about it, but that is not how contemporary audiences saw it!)

It's not because they feel asleep during Who Are You? and never saw how Faith interacts with Tara, either. (Which, sure, you can interpret as Faith projecting her own internalized homophobia onto Tara if you like. But which you can also explain pretty easily when you remember that Faith really doesn't like Willow -- she's just been reminded in an earlier scene how much Willow doesn't like her, which she responded to by immediately fantasizing about stabbing her -- and that she's doing this because she doesn't want Willow to be happy.)

No, the reason for thinking that Faith is open and unashamed of her sexuality in a way Buffy isn't is that this is the obvious conclusion you reach once you start to take the queer-coding of being a Slayer seriously.

If Slaying is a metaphor for queerness -- which moments like Joyce reacting to Buffy coming out as Slayer in Season 2's Becoming ("it's because you didn't have a strong father figure, isn't it?") or later talking about "marching in the Slayer Pride parade" in Season 3 or, as early as Season 1's Never Kill A Boy On The First Date and as late as series finale Chosen, Slaying being given as a reason Buffy can't have a "normal" relationship (i.e. one with a boy) or ever make "the guy thing" work all suggest it is -- then what does that imply about Buffy and Faith's respective attitudes to Slaying?

Well, Buffy spends years hiding the fact she's a Slayer from her mother, only ever shares this part of herself with a handful of trusted friends, openly wishes at times that she could give up being the Slayer, tells herself that being a Slayer makes her "a freak", insists against all evidence that she doesn't really enjoy Slaying. And Faith tells people she's only just met how much she loves Slaying ("Buffy never talks that way!" Joyce notes when Faith comes around for dinner), doesn't try to live the double-life Buffy has pursued (where she's both a Slayer and a "normal girl"), and repeatedly challenges Buffy to admit that Slaying is "fun" and something she wants to do for its own sake ("tell me you don't get off on this?" she asks in Bad Girls).

I mean, am I wedded to this being the best or only interpretation of the character? No, not at all. As I said, Faith's self-loathing is a huge part of her characterisation, and -- even if it's not something that originally stems from her (assumed) attraction to women -- it makes sense it would bleed through into it. You can tie that back into the metaphorical reading too, pretty easily. Faith isn't as happy and confident about being a Slayer as she pretends to be. She isn't having as much fun as she'd like Buffy to think she is. She is, in fact, jealous of Buffy's "normal" life.

But I think, if you're going to be critical of this reading of the character, you have to seriously engage with why it's popular. People don't just assume Faith is unashamed of being attracted to women because they just decided she should be and they're ignoring all the explicit clues to the contrary. Rather, they're approaching the show in the context of US network television in the late 1990s -- when explicit confirmation of a character being anything other than straight was almost unthinkable -- and taking their cues from the metaphorical reading instead.

And from that lens, "Faith is proud to be a 'Slayer' [if you know what I mean] and enjoys spending the night 'Slaying' with other 'Slayers'" really is the natural conclusion to come to.

[theunholybastard]

Surprise! (Papa Emeritus IV x Cirrus)

Requested by @thecrepegremlin !!!

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, Heat Cycles, Light Monsterfucking, Quickie, Doggy-Style, Mentions Of Breeding Kink, Scratching, Squirting

Copia hadn't seen Cirrus in a while. About a week, to be more specific, but still way too long in his book. He hated to be apart from his favorite Ghoulette, but she was going through her heat, and as much as he would love to fuck her stupid through her cycle, it was Ministry policy to have the Ghouls isolated during this time. Can't have any kits running about, especially during touring.

Unfortunately, the timing was not so pleasant. Her heat came a bit earlier than usual, and of course the week they couldn't be around each other just so happened to overlap with the week leading up to his birthday. They didn't worry though, since her cycle is usually shorter than most other Ghouls. He should be able to spend his special day with his special Ghoulette once it rolls around. Well, his birthday was yesterday, and she was still deep in her heat. It's not like he was completely alone on his birthday, he had other friends and family to accompany him, but still, his love was not there to warm his bed at the end of the day, and that was really all he cared about.

He sat in his office, alone and bored. Sure he could do the paperwork he was assigned to have finished by the end of the day, but does he want to, though? He'd much rather spin around in his chair and contemplate his own mortality; how many more birthdays will he get? Ah, Cirrus was always so good at calming his nerves and looming fear of his own demise. Cirrus was good at a lot of things. And now that she was on his mind, he can't help but think about all the the things she was good at, especially with her mouth...

His cock grew slowly, straining against his pants. While he was zoned out, deep in his perverted fantasy land, he didn't notice his door swing open. "Surpriseee!" A sweet voice sang out to him, catching him off guard, nearly jumping out of his seat with a "gah!" He looked up, and to his pleasant surprise, he sees Cirrus, unmasked and grinning from ear to ear, holding what looks to be... A cake! Clearly home-made from the sloppily put together presentation, splotchy icing that spelled out "Happy (late) birthday, Papa!" though you could barely tell due to how illegible the handwriting was. Still, it was the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen.

"Don't mind how it looks. You try making a pretty looking cake while you're animalisticly horny. It's not easy." She snickered, noticing the way he was eyeing the cake placed in front of him on his desk. "I assure you, it doesn't taste as bad as it looks."

"Cirrus, amore, I am flattered, but what are you doing out of the den? You're not finished with your heat cycle, are you?" He questioned. She shook her head, thighs rubbing together awkwardly.

"I'm... nearing the end of it. That's good enough, right?" She shrugs. Copia sighs.

"Cara mia, you know-"

"I know I shouldn't be out and about just yet, but I can't be away from you any longer! I missed your birthday, for Lucifers sake! I already feel bad enough, so just let me celebrate with you now before I cry." She giggles, but that was no joke; she will cry. He knows he can't find the willpower to send her back to the den, so he doesn't bother arguing.

"Alright, dear. Go ahead, pull up a chair and light the candles." She nearly jumps for joy, quickly as possible doing what she was told before he changed his mind, as if he would. Lighting the last candle, she began to sing, head gently rested on his shoulder. He couldn't help but tear up. He did this yesterday, with the rest of his Ghouls and a few siblings of sin singing to him instead, but it hits different when it's her voice. His favorite voice. It felt so much more intimate, just the two of them.

The wholesome moment was ruined as he blew out the candles, feeling his cock twitch uncomfortably under the desk, remembering his hard-on from before never went down, and if anything, got harder when she walked in. She noticed, of course she did, he was never good at being subtle. "Happy to see me, Papa?" She purred, rubbing her thighs together once more. Copia gulped.

"Always." He breathed. "You were all I could think about yesterday. I- I'm always thinking about you." She crept closer towards him, lips ghosting his. "We really shouldn't, amore..."

"We're already breaking the rules by me just being here, what's the harm in breaking one more?" She placed a hand strategically on his upper thigh, just barely ghosting his... fuck it. He's never had an ounce of self restraint, why start now? In no time, he had her bent over the desk, (after moving the cake, of course) fumbling with the condom as he rolled it on, slipping in her already wet cunt. She was so much more incredibly tight when she was in heat, her body so desperate to milk cock and be successfully bred. Though that wouldn't be happening today, the thought spurred Copia on even further.

His vision goes blurry the second he bottoms out, her walls squeezing so fucking tight he would've came on the spot if he wasn't wearing a condom. He fucked into her roughly, her walls fluttering around him with each snap of his hips. She was loud, like a car alarm going off each time he grazed her cervix. So much for being secretive. His eyes focus on where they were connected, watching her engulf him and make a sticky, creamy mess of his dick. He curses under his breath.

His nails dig into the meat of her ass, kneading the sweet glistening flesh he has in front of him, anything to distract himself so he doesn't cum prematurely. He needs her to soak his cock first before he dares to empty himself into the latex he was wearing. Cirrus however, was already too far gone. All this grueling time being in heat, having nobody but herself to fuck with while she experiences painful levels of horniness, she couldn't get enough. He was already balls deep, but she wanted him deeper. He was already fucking her as hard as his aged body can handle, but she wanted it faster. Her claws dig into the desk, carving deep scratch marks into the finished wood like a wild beast. That one's gonna be hard to explain to Sister Imperator next time she pops in for a visit.

He can feel himself reaching his release, weather he's ready or not. His hips start to stutter, his breathing started to quicken, and before he can lose his last semblance of sanity, he snakes a hand under her waist, rubbing her swollen clit tactfully. They cum nearly in sync, trembling together as they both ride out the aftershocks, huffing and puffing like they had just run a marathon, despite the whole interaction being barely five minutes.

They knew she had to leave soon, out of risk of being caught and scolded by the upper Clergy. Sister Imperator warned them last time that if he lets her sneak out again for a quick and risky fuck one more time, she'd end up padlocking the entire Ghoul den. As if they would stop Cirrus from getting out. But for now, for a brief few minutes, they could just lay there like this, dripping in a number of fluids and enjoying one anothers company.

-

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.219 Less strikes again

At some point, I tore myself away from my parents and left the cemetery feeling renewed and happy. On my way back home, I made a detour to the florist. I couldn't leave their graves looking empty and neglected like we didn't care. Quite the contrary. I even bought nice headstones and put portraits on their plots. Too bad I didn't have a big enough picture for grandpa Winston. I'd really love to meet him one day, but I think he may have crossed over already. At least I have tiny pictures at home to look at and see where some of my features come from.

Alessia called, saying she wanted to talk. That meant she needed to get out of the house, so I sent Sophia a text saying I would be back later that night. At first, I thought we'd grab dinner, but Less and I hadn't gone out together in ages. We needed to make it count, so I suggested we go to a bar for old time's sake. We met at The Solar Flare in Oasis Springs, and she began telling me about this man she'd been talking to.

His name is Brent Peters, and he rents a trailer in Oasis Springs. He likes horses, is obsessed with vampires, loves a good argument, and hates smart asses. He also hates comedy, idealists, troublemakers, knitting, and rock climbing. So far, he sounded like a very interesting character, and I wanted to know more. She said in his younger days he had a bit of trouble of his own, often getting caught stealing. He got help, but every day is a struggle to resist that urge. They bonded over their love for athleticism. She thought it was a silly to appreciate, but she loved he didn't mind her being a homebody. Whatever she wanted to do, he was into it, and she loved that. I couldn't imagine Alessia ever changing herself to please someone, but I knew exactly how it felt to be loved and accepted by someone despite your flaws and shortcomings, and I was glad she had that. She said he's loyal to her, and they are taking things slow. As much as I loved to hear that, I still had concerns.

"He sounds wonderful for you, but... Like, how do you know he's not after your money?"

"Luca... I know you're concerned because of what happened last time, but this isn't that. Me and Jase bonded over stupid, meaningless stuff. Brent and I talk about real things. And I'm older and wiser now. But you, of all people, should understand how putting yourself out there involves risks. You moved in with Sophia after one date, and you didn't even want to be in a relationship. But you took the risk. The point here is I'm ready to take risks again. I don't know if Brent is after my money, or if he will kill me in my sleep, or if he'll run off with another woman. I'm still getting to know him, but I don't think he will. But I'll never know unless I try."

I say this every time I'm around her, but she has grown so much, and I love to see it. I still had concerns, but there was nothing left to say.

"Also, I'm moving out tomorrow."

"What?? Why?"

"I appreciate everything you've done for me. And I love how fiercely you protect me. But I need to handle things on my own now. All my life, I've had a safety net. Even when I moved out, I was living with that family. Someone has always taken care of me, and I feel like I owe it to myself, and my children, to be truly independent. I can't teach them what I've never done, so I need to go. I don't want you to make a big deal and throw a party or something. Just let us go quietly, please."

This is just like Mt. Komorebi all over again. She arrives at conclusions super fast and is compelled to action them even faster.

"But... What about the kids? Desi loves playing with them. And I love hanging out with them, too."

"That can still happen! It'll just require more effort now."

"Where are you going, anyway?"

"San Myshuno, for now."

That was the last place I pictured her living. Seems like the hustle and bustle would send her paranoia up the roof. But, renting an apartment is a good situation for her. Even though she wants to be independent, homeownership is a whole 'nother beast, not for the faint of heart.

"I'm gonna miss you, sis. I've really enjoyed getting to know this adult version of you. Can we make sure to do better at keeping in touch?"

"You better, big head."

[memingursa]

https://www.tumblr.com/memingursa/775772728380768256/me-most-leftists-a-majority-of-the-country?source=share

See, you say this and yet, if that one candidate *had* magically changed all those stances to fit the popular vote. Had said, "Yes, I'm going to do all of this if I had that position"

You're (as in everyone who claims to agree with those views) no better than the far right. You want someone to wave a pen and change every injustice that is happening and make it all better right now. The rest of our governmental system be damned.

Or, you'd start claiming she's a liar who's "just saying things to get votes" and *still* refuse to vote. Either way, stop trying to justify the shit that's happening as "not my fault". You don't care about anything other than having the moral high ground

Fucks sake you really think that camp shit is okay? Is that really the message you want to end that on? At a moment in time when more division is the exact opposite of helpful?

I bet this ask hits hard if you’re stupid and literally don’t understand how politics, the electoral system works, how political parties work, the power Joe Biden clearly had, the polling of every progressive popular issue Kamala abandoned. Like you’re just wrong and whining.

Also you literally just admitted you think like this 👇 meme and expect me to take you seriously. You refuse to listen to leftist criticism to swallow more “reasonable.” bit of fascism that Kamala literally ran on. You literally are proving my vent post right lol

[zekescherries]

content warning ﹣ exploitation﹒heavy angst﹒betrayal﹒fem reader﹒implied childbirth﹒snippet

"i only have a year left, it would be best that you start planning a future without me." a rumble leaves zeke's throat. voice laced with sleep. his murky, hazy scent mixed with the strong fragrance of the cigarettes he smoked earlier fill your nostrils and leave you with a feeling of butterflies that flutter against your ribs. "you've been saying that for a while." your hands drop in defeat, lips curving into a frown. "because you need to." zeke yawns, his breath hot against the lobe of your ear. silver irises sharing at nothing yet something in the unilluminated room.

you've sat here for so long that you've lost the track of time, maybe it's past eleven. you can't tell from the sky and you can't make out what the clock says—you can't even see it. "when i die, what will you do? stay with my nana and-" zeke is interrupted by the sound of the chair scratching at the hardwood floor. it's hard to navigate your surroundings in the dark. "your grandfather is getting worse," shoko can hear the exhaustion in your voice. "your grandmother fears for your last days and...so do i." zeke wonders if you're mad at him, feet tapping against the cold floor.

finding the bathroom, you stand in the doorway, the gust of air is cold and mercilessly. flipping a switch that finally offers a source of light, the sink is the first thing you go for. splashing water onto your face, every worry washing away but the stress from all the missions still stays. a soft breath; a verbal utterance of your tiredness.

your fatigued and wearied walk out of the bathroom drains you of whatever energy you have left as you turn around. "are you really gonna...smoke in here?" an obvious question, zeke is lighting a cigarette right in front of you for gods sake. he hummed a soft "mmhm", dressed in nothing but dark pants. blond, flaxen hair with tired yet lazy eyes. everything about zeke was bordering on perfect, most-likely a side effect of his parents abuse and marley's influence. he was handsome, talented and intelligent, marley's poster-boy. the quintessential warrior, unmatched by any other.

but you had the luxury of having him as a husband, "just a piece of paper" he called it, though it meant more than that to you. it was always more than just wanting the perks that came with being married to a honorary marleyan.

still, you found yourself thinking of what marley made him, what his parents made him. their wonder boy, eldia's savior. to you, he was just zeke. "i'll open a window..." you shake your head, the flicker of light from the bathroom offers you a glow that guides you towards the nearest window. "you should go to bed." mumbled the unperturbed man.

surges of wind files in through the crack in the window, providing ventilation even as zeke continues to smoke—taking a long drag that fills his lungs with fumes. you continue to stare at him, eyes staring into yours. he never failed to distract you, to say you had fallen hard would be an understatement. "i know you're all worried, and...I'm sorry." zeke smoldered, approaching you with a smile. his words make your heart soar, yet it aches for him. "for what...?" you don't expect him to answer, he didn't choose to be a warrior. pulling him into a hug you stroke and pet his hair, tangled strands of knots fiddled in between your fingers.

"zeeke," his name dragging off your tongue as you held back tears. "I'll always have a part of you. even when you leave my side."

"really? it won't annoy you, pearl?" he asks, lips grazing your forehead. you shake your head, hair tickling his nose.

"never, i love you. so, so much."

the cell was cramped, disheveled and smeared with grime. unfit for one person let alone three. mrs yeager was silent, her face solemn, you can tell she doesn't believe this is reality. "how could this happen?" asked mr yeager, staring up at the dark ceiling though nothing looked back at him. he looked all the more perplexed, disgusted and disappointed. "faye, my sweet faye and my grisha. my children…" mrs yeager couldn't hold back a soft sob at the memory of her children. "and now my only grandson,"

"what has cursed this family so?" it was a question you couldn't answer, you though yourself closest to zeke; you shared his bed, his body, his "love", his memories and mind…that's what you tell yourself anyway. maybe this was some elaborate joke, a nightmare, something you could wake up from and everything would go back to normal. you would have your husband back, your home. you could introduce him to—

no, you shouldn't be thinking about that. you should hate him, he left you behind. he's not marley's poster-boy, he's not eldia's savior. he's a deeply flawed man, why did it take you so long to realize? even so, you miss him. you miss his warmth, saying his name. you miss the scent of his cologne. you miss his voice, his touch. everything.

"yooou lot, ain't neeever gettin' out." marleyan soldiers were known to drink copiously, chugging down bottle after bottle, shot after shot until they fell on their asses; unable to speak much less stand back up. dire and treacherous times like these; with betrayal and ambuscades on the horizon, they only got even more drunk to drown out the stress and physical pain. "so don't even…think about it." spat the marleyan, his uniform filthy.

when the soldier walked away mrs yeager bursted into tears, her sobs loud in the empty, isolated hall.

your hand traveled down your dress, reaching down to touch your flat stomach through the fabric.

her smooth skin, unmistakable blond hair and pretty, silvery irises, pale though not without a metallic sheen. her cheeks were red and her lashes long, she cried and cried until you held her—you remember crying too.

it seemed perfect in the moment but they snatched her away; your last bit of happiness.

© zekescherries﹒thank you for reading

[fromchaostocosmos]

I kept holding onto that last bit of hope saying Israel hadn't yet confirmed it.

But that is gone.

I've undergone a lot long term trauma that started really young and that is something that doesn't goes away. It is always there and more is about how manageable it is each day.

For me I've had to think a lot about life, people, what makes a person a bad person and what them good, and choices.

And I think that it about our choices. Do we choose the kind, empathetic, understanding, compassionate choice when we are aware that that choice is in front of us.

Because at the end of the day we all got shit and that shit doesn't excuse anyone choosing cruelty, choosing violence for violence's sake, choosing to hurt others purposefully.

So that is how I try to live my life by choosing compassion, kindness, understanding, honesty, and empathy whenever possible.

With that said I will not pretend that this past year hasn't made that really hard at times. Because that would a lie.

And Trump winning added to that because we have the left the go to blaming it on the Jews with the added addition of appropriating the Shoah and I say the Shoah and not the Holocaust because that is what is happening.

They are taking from Jewish trauma specifically and Jewish deaths and what happened to us specifically all while erasing, no rather eradicating why any of happened in the first place.

Then on the right you have the further propagation of antisemitic conspiracies and Jewish bogeymen though now often without even trying to hide behind coded terms and language. While at the same pretending to give a single fuck about antisemitism so as to give cover for the fact they are not even pretending anymore about who they are talking about with the (((Them))) (((They))) (((Cabal))) (((Elites))) etc.

And both sides are doing their best to kick Jews out of well everywhere. Thus ensuring we are far more vulnerable and left with no allies.

Then there is this news. This utterly heartbreaking, heart wrenching, honestly no words for how devastating this is, news.

These children, no these babies spent their overwhelming majority of their lives as hostages and in horrific conditions. I am sure their mother did everything she could to surround them with love, to keep them from feeling afraid, to give them some tiny semblance of normalcy.

I am sure she did whatever she could in the conditions they were in.

But she never should have had to. Her babies should have been under the sun. They should have walked, learned to run, talked, and played with their friends. They should be alive right now.

That mother should be alive right now.

That family should be alive and in few months time getting ready for Purim.

That family should have had the option to decide if they want to do a family costume. They should be making hamantaschen in few months.

But that won't be the case. Instead a husband and a father will have buried his wife and babies.

So I find myself a bit broken by this. I find myself burnt out. Oh I am angry, but that rage it banks down and when it does I am tired.

I am the tired that only Am Yisreal knows. It is the exhaustion that lasts over millennia. It is the exhaustion of repeated cycles not because you don't learn your lesson, but because everyone around refuses to learn anything at all.

So yes Am Yisrael Chai. But we are weary, we heartbroken, we wish to grieve in peace and yet not even not small kindness have we allowed.

With each cycle we come out more jagged in certain ways, more distrustful I think. Each cycle breaks differently.

And I think it might be time to embrace that. To say that it is okay that we have these parts of us. Why they exist is not okay and that is not on us. It is okay that they exist.

To have compassion towards ourselves for a bit. To focus inward for a time because right now no really is looking out for us. So I think for a bit we just need to focus on us.

While I won't hold my breathe who knows maybe this time the world around will learn something for once.

May their memories be for blessing.

ברוך דיין האמת Baruch Dayan HaEmet

i feel sick.

[frameconfessions]

What if the devs or just someone who works for Digital Extremes finds this blog and sends in a confession?

[sysig]

Moving out of concept art and into what’s Actually Done! Showcased here are a couple expressions for both pets so far with their dialogue balloons - mostly pulled from NPC references, but I did get a screenshot of my pet in-game using it in reply, not just in Kinzchat! So cute <3

They’re both introducing themselves here with the names I’ve given them, but I really wanted the process to be as Webkinz-like as possible, with a few extras :)

Which started with being able to pick pet pronouns! Thinking about it now, Webkinz doesn’t ask for player pronouns, does it? :0 But I wanted that to be an option too! It was...something of a process to go from one set of adjustable pronouns to three, especially as I haven’t played with any Ghosts that give you the option to assign both the character(s)’ and player’s pronouns! I had to give it a fair bit of thought of what to check against and how to not have them interfere with or overwrite each other (which did happen early on lol), but I got it! Only took a couple hours of frustrated-sleepily hammering away haha

These screenshots were taken pretty much back-to-back - the only thing changed here is what shell is being used, and shell-checking has come in soooo clutch here ahh, thank goodness ♥ Many and big thank-yous again to @cherryistired​​ for helping me troubleshoot menu shell-switching! Exactly what I needed, am very grateful :D

My original concept sketch of this process was perhaps a little overconfident in what I could accomplish for my first time playing in code lol; I have seen custom pronoun-setting though! And I think I probably could do that, but multiple pronouns... Again, I think I could, but... The name of the game was limiting my scope (lol) to see how many Different things I could implement in short order, so I’ll gladly take my three sets of pronouns and pet names vs. player name and go haha

It’s also a bit funny to look back on this little Diamond - I really haven’t drawn her much! Kind of loosely following Webkinz’ style, her face looks especially silly I think haha

I’ve also got my main menu balloon looking rather fabulous imo ✨ Technically there’s two - More and Back - and most of the features are Very Much in the Coming Soon To A Ghost Near You phase lol, but they’re all {bracketed} up to be filled in as I get their assets made :D There’s still a few placeholder pieces here and there - especially since I haven’t gotten to inter-Ghost communication just yet. Everything in its own time!

I ended up having a lot-a lot of fun with naming and renaming, I went a little silly with Just How Many reactions the pets could have to their names haha

They’ll refuse to be named after any of the Hosts directly, and they’ll give you a side-eye if the name is Close To but not Quite a match haha

The mischievous expression has gotten an awful lot of use already! Although I’ll probably change the “Nu-uh!” expression to something else once I have an alternative that fits better - I need that gradient-to-mad expression set so bad!

And although they won’t accept NPC names, you can name yourself after a Host, and they’ll react! :D There really is so much flexibility for Easter Eggs like this ahh, it’s fun!

All told, I ended up playing the most in Bootend, Menu, Nameteach (hgh), and String, although I’m realizing now that maybe a lot of the stuff I put in String belongs in Word...? It’s all been OnFunctions anyhow, and it’s organized in a way that makes sense to me but is perhaps not as intended lol - nothing says I can’t go back in and move some stuff around, as long as it continues to function properly haha. I’ve kept my error log neat and tidy!! As many times as I’ve broken something, I’ve fixed it thereafter! :D It’s a very satisfying process ♪

[subway-boss-jericho]

You seem to be someone that likes foreshadowing. Do you look forward to sharing a specific scene in your story? Like snippets that have you crazy?

Complicated question,, Both yes, and no.

Yes, because I love writing in a way that implies something specific or with the intent to imply something specific while also not directly telling you What it is. Any friends can and will confirm the great joy I derive from ✨exploring the implications of things.✨ There is a shit ton of stuff in the first chapter that I put in there very deliberately while also avoiding telling you enough about it to Get It, and I've been dying to peel back the layers and show you my cool ideas.

On the other hand, I don't really have a lot of specific scenes in steady tracks that I want to share. Steady tracks started as the first chapter, with me having this super vivid vision surrounding my pokemon!Ingo design. I made the prologue to help the narrative flow better, and everything else has kind of been me trying to build from there. I don't have a lot of scenes set in stone particularly far in the future because I'm still not exactly sure where I want the plot to go or how I want to Get from point A to point B. There are a few things I am definitely excited for- Mainly getting other characters into the plot because that shit's Fun -but as of right now I don't have a lot of crazy plot twists or mind-shattering reveals in the works. I'm mostly just excited at the prospect of slowly introducing you all to the new normal for Ingo and what, exactly, that means, alongside the other worldbuilding and characters :] A lot of the things I'm excited about have to do with learning more about Ingo

I really like writing haha,, As of now, the future of Steady Tracks is super open so far as major plot beats and such. We're just gonna see where the tracks lead!

Thanks for the ask!

[xtinyslip]

“… you can’t even give me that. can you?” seriously? what was wrong with him? cory looked at him and saw ALL the things that he didn’t want to be. “im really not here for your money. I don’t need it. i also don’t need to uh, DIE?” the last thing this was about was money. it was just money and if he lost all his? well, BUMMER but he’d just make more like he always did. cory simply stood there, listening to him in what he could only think was disbelief. oh, of course he had this other son THAT NO ONE ELSE KNEW ABOUT. “so, um?” blinking several times because uh? the fuck? the fact this was very much REAL and his father was just openly sharing this with him? someone needed to slap him so he could be convinced this was even happening. “… how old is he? who —?” like? it was good news that his father was getting this to him in writing but it was a little hard for that to sink in over the other news. “writing, yeah. do that and we have a deal.” not even sure what he was even agreeing to at this point which was dangerous territory to be in. “but what about —“ mom? no he wasn’t going to embarrass himself by asking such a stupid question. of course, his dad didn’t care. it didn’t feel like he cared about ANY of them. “you lost her? we’re unlucky son of bitches in this family. i—“ he wanted to say sorry but no, no he wasn’t going to apologise considering what this meant. first finn had lost his wife and then his father had lost his — whatever. shit. “oh so when you said I’ll run into her? you mean run into her on your arm?” only really growing DEFENSIVE for his own mothers sake and nothing else. he didn’t know enough for anything else. “um, it certainly does that?” he wasn’t going to share how he got the details he had because he didn’t give up his sources but? he was regretting getting it at all now. “i just don't think -- does she really need this shit being thrown at her right now?” @fcdcdmcmories

"YOU MEAN.. THE MAIDS TAUGHT YOU WELL?" was he going to keep on pushing that much? well, no, because.. right now, there were far more important things to focus on and getting everything ready for his son to come home was WHAT MATTERED THE MOST. and so, he was going to prepare for it now. "good, then.. that means, that you and i understand each other. you are my son. i'm not about to leave you high and dry, as long as you... BEHAVE. YES?" because it was all about presentation and.. well, he supposed that it was time to make sure that no one would ever question their family name again. "my son, of course. THEODORE. i suppose that he goes by another name now, but.. it matters not. that's the name that he will take, when he returns home. it's the name that his mother wanted him to have." and nothing mattered more than what katherine wanted ; because he had taken it all away from her and that'd never happen again. no. no. "i'd take no pleasure in hurting your mother. none. but i will.. if you force my hand. so if you do as i say? no harm will come to her. you have my word and.. YES, I'LL GET YOU THAT IN WRITING TOO." he only smiled, leaning back in his chair. "no, it is not. once upon a time.. believe it or not, i fell in love. it was everything. she was everything. AS WAS OUR SON. i lost her, but.. now, she's back. with me." where she belonged and precisely, where he wanted her to bee. of course. yes. "I WILL GIVE IT ALL THE ATTENTION IT DESERVES. AS LONG AS IT PAINTS HIM IN AN INCRIMINATING LIGHT," which was.. precisely what he wanted. wasn't it? yes. kat wanted it and so, so did he. "cecilia is a pederson. she has my name and my protection and.. whatever side effects this may have on her, I'LL TAKE CARE OF IT. SHE'LL RECOVER AND HAVE THE SUPPORT OF THE PEOPLE. THEY'LL HAIL HER AS A SURVIVOR. AS A HERO." and that was precisely what he would make happen. / @xtinyslip

[musical-chick-13]

I hate when something looks like it would be RIGHT up your alley and the cast is pretty stacked, but there's one person in said cast who is just. Genuinely a horrible human being.

[vaspider]

Listen to me. Listen very carefully:

They are trying to wear you out.

They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.

So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.

Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!

Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.

That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.

Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.

Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.

Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.

It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?

Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.

*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.

**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.

[ame-to-ame]

There is horror in learning that sometimes you can't unlearn certain things. or that the process is so. so. so. damn slow. That sometimes it doesn't feel like you're forgetting it and you beat yourself up everyday for not having moved on faster

But on another note it means I can whip out stuff like this in a day after being in serious art block for months B) (character is Kit by artoada on artfight)

Yes I am very proud of this one it's a fullbody piece with composition and thin line art and somewhat of a background!!! and I'm using techniques I learned like. once. while doing a master study before.

[giantkillerjack]

Catholicism.

[.... oops I accidentally wrote real analysis in the tags lol]

why is he like this

[void-my-warranty]

(part 1 here if you missed it)

“Simon.”

He looks up from his breakfast, hair rumpled and eyes a little bloodshot. There’s a bit of panic in them, though, at your deathly serious voice which he basically never hears.

His stomach clenches with dread, forcibly swallowing down the bite of food that’s not nearly chewed enough, and straightening up in his chair.

You sigh. “Why don’t you want to marry me?”

He’s so tunnel-visioned in on losing you that he has to blink a couple of times, mentally shoving one issue away and wrenching something unexpected into its place.

“What—“

You cut him off with a rushing tide of anxiety. “If it was just needing to wait, then I would understand. I totally, totally get wanting to be sure, you know? But everyone thinks we’re married already, and that’s weird, Si. And you never let me pay for anything, and it’s starting to make me feel like you want to keep things separate, like you have one foot out the door already.”

Your chest heaves with the pent-up emotion of working these things over and over in your head for the last few days and coming up with no other logical answer.

He frowns in confusion. “You… want to marry me?”

You laugh at first, shocked and bitter, thinking he’s got to be kidding. But then his face smooths over into that unreadable, self preservation expression which you hate, and you realize he’s just an idiot. “Yes! Of course I do.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and looking like he’s not quite sure this conversation is really happening.

“FUCK!” You stand up and slam your palms on the table in frustration, then point at his tea. “Take a drink.”

At first you think he won’t. His eyes are tracking over your face, your aggressive posture, and then they finally drop to his mug. Simon obediently gulps a few swallows of tea, then sets it back down to have both arms free for self defense.

You step around the table, no matter that you’re quite unthreatening in your little PJs and no bra, and plant your hands on each of his shoulders.

“Simon. For fuck’s sake. Why are you telling everyone we’re married?”

Oh, god. You never see that. That ruddy flush blooming in the bottom of his cheeks? You never see that.

“Cause…” he swallows, his eyes flicking down to his tea you made for him, and then back to your face. He’s struggling, hard. “You are something like that, to me.”

You let out a relieved breath, sliding your hands up to his hot cheeks. “Okay. Then why haven’t you asked me to marry you, Si?”

“I’m sorry—“ he starts, but the crack in his voice makes him hide it by clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, if that’s something… you’ve been wanting, love. Didn’t think... you’d say yes to a… a bloody…” He trails off, unable to come up with the proper derogation.

“A bloody idiot,” you supply, sliding your ass onto his lap and looping your arms around his neck.

He blinks suspiciously fast, clearing his throat again and hooking his elbow around yours to drain the last of his tea.

“A bloody idiot,” you say a little softer, kissing his scarred cheek, “who makes me so happy that I can’t imagine loving anyone else like I love you. Of course I want to be your wife.”

"Mmm," he wraps his arms around you, almost painfully tight. "Say it again."

"I want to be your wife, you silly Englishman."

"Ahh," he nuzzles his face into your neck, mumbling against your skin, "didn't catch it. Once more?"

You laugh and twist away from the tickle of his mouth. "You. Me. Married or else."

"Don't need to twist your arm?"

"No." You drop your chin down to find his mouth with yours. "Just ask nicely."

Drabble masterlist

[pearlymel]

A dance— Capitano

Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.

Wc : 3.2k

Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.

Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!

You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.

Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.

All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)

Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.

It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.

Like last week.

“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.

Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.

"Did you learn it from someone?”

“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”

You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.

“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.

Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.

"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”

“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”

“i don't.”

And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.

“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.

You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.

An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.

“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.

“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”

“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.

All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.

But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.

You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.

“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”

“and the colour?”

"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”

Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.

Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.

Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.

You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”

"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”

You are ready.

You are not ready.

Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?

The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.

Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.

You were here to make friends, hopefully.

You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.

And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.

Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?

Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.

But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?

You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.

“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.

"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.

The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.

Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.

He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.

"I suppose we should dance, wife.”

“you want to dance?”

"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.

You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.

Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.

"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.

Interesting.

He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.

You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.

His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.

”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”

You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.

His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.

"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.

"You look rather well tonight, as well.”

“Thank you, wife.”

The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.

You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.

As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.

You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.

But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.

"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.

"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”

He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.

Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.

“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.

The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.

Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.

Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.

The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.

He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.

“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let it breath from the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.

You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in him stir.

His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.

It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.

Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.

You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.

Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.

“Will you allow me to touch you?”

The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.

When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.

His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.

“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”

And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.

“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.

“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.

He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.

His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.

It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.

Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.

Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.

“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.

“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’

Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.

Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.

You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.

He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.

His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.

“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.

Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.

—

You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.

As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.

“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”

Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,