#and i feel like we’re at a point where creators

[unfunnystandup]

do we think good omens is gonna queerbait? i’m curious about the general consensus.

[s0fter-sin]

i’ve stopped expecting interesting animation from bones. the star and stripe fight is cool but like every other fight/moment in mha, it’s only cool bc the source material itself is cool; bones does nothing to elevate the manga

they rarely try to experiment with colour and style. i saw so many colourings of the moment star and stripe made a giant version of herself out of the air; people made her look like a cosmos, like it reflected and bent the sky around her, doing so many inventive things and for the anime to just make her an outline against that godforsaken sky? i’m disappointed

but people will take me saying i’m disappointed and spin it to me saying the fight was bad. it wasn’t, just like most fights and moments in the anime aren’t bad but that’s all bc horikoshi knows how to draw. they never do anything beyond that; they never try and adapt it. whether it’s bc of time, direction, budget, or what have you, they will never do something truly inventive with their colouring

i’ve said this before and i’ll say it again, it’s not just that the sky is blue; it’s what the blue sky represents and that is an unwillingness to broaden their colour palette or atmosphere to support the changes in the tone of the story. the story isn’t just “will midoriya get into his dream high school and achieve his dream job?” it’s child abuse and societal systems and their dysfunctions, it’s racism and morality and is it right to try and save someone who’s determined to destroy the world just bc they are also a victim?

look at the finale of atla, a show that mirrors the narrative tone of mha; it starts out bright and colourful and vibrant to match the happy and small stakes nature of the story and as the tone of the story changes, the environment changes to reflect that. the siege of the north pole? everything goes blood red when the moon spirit is threatened, then goes completely desaturated when it is killed with only fire bending having any colour. the day of black sun? uses a solar eclipse to change the lighting. the entire sozin’s comet fight? has red skies and lighting to show the threat

bones abject refusal to change anything about the art itself is a detriment to horikoshi’s complex narrative

[viagracex]

could you do a George Clarke one shot where him and maxs sister are secretly hooking up? All good if not x (love your work btw)

Off Limits

george clarke x balegde!reader

summary: george is secretly hooking up with max's sister. what starts as no-strings-attached turns into something more

warnings: brief mentions of sexual content

note: if this feels a little rushed im sorry, i tried not to have to write it as two parts.

4.4k words

Masterlist

₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊

You weren’t meant to be here.

The rational part of your brain knew that.

Yet, lying in George Clarkey’s bed, tucked under his sheets, skin still warm from his touch, you feel the weight of his arm draped over your waist. You know this is a disaster waiting to happen. But at this point, it’s almost tradition.

A night out turns into tipsy flirting. Flirting turns into one of you cracking first and texting where u at? And before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re tangled up in him, his hands gripping your waist, his mouth pressing hot, lazy kisses against your neck, and the world shrinking to just you and him. The way his mouth moved against your skin, the way his hands gripped your body—it always felt like an electric current between you.

This had been going on for months now—longer than you ever expected. What started as a drunken mistake had turned into a routine. Nights out ended with you texting him, or him texting you, or one of you finding an excuse to be at the same place at the same time, until you ended up here. Sweaty, satisfied, and entirely too comfortable in his bed.

It was just sex. Really good sex. That’s all.

But it couldn't be more complicated.

For one, George Clarkey was one of your brother's closest mates.

And Max had made it painfully clear that dating YouTubers was off the table.

"They’re all walking red flags, babe," Max had said once, waving his hands for emphasis. "All of them. You’d just become another London Content Creator’s Girlfriend, and I won’t be having that."

Not that you and George were dating.

You were just… shagging George Clarke in secret.

And maybe that was worse.

But that was the key difference—the thing that made this somewhat okay.

You weren’t a couple. You weren’t sneaking around because of some grand forbidden romance.

You were just fucking.

And it was casual.

Totally.

Absolutely.

…Okay, maybe there were some complications.

Like the fact that George could be an oblivious idiot at times and that you were slowly falling for him.

As you turn your head on the pillow, watching George lazily stretch in front of you, his hair a messy tangle on the pillows, you can't help but admire how good he looks even after just waking up. He catches you staring and a smirk tugs at his lips.

"You're thinking too much," he says in a rough, sleep-filled voice, and when you glance over again he’s watching you through lidded eyes, his dark hair sticking up in every direction.

You scoff, turning onto your side. “I’m thinking about how screwed we’ll be if Max ever finds out about this.”

George smirks, his grin only grows wider as he pulls you closer until you’re pressed against his chest, his warm skin against yours sending shivers down your spine. “Then we just don’t let him find out.”

You let out a resigned sigh. "Easy for you to say. You don't have to live with him."

George chuckles, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder, and fuck—that should not feel as nice as it does.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your skin. “We’re being careful.”

You want to believe him, but a nagging doubt persists. "Are we though? Being careful?"

George's fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Course we are. Max hasn't got a clue, has he?"

You bite your lip, remembering all the close calls. The time Max almost walked in on you two in the kitchen. The suspicious glances when you laughed too hard at George's jokes. The way your cheeks flushed whenever he was mentioned.

"I don't know," you mumble. "Sometimes I think he suspects something."

George's hand stills on your waist. "You worried?"

You turn to face him, studying the lines of his face in the dim light. His blue eyes are soft, filled with concern. You hate how much you like looking at him.

"Maybe a little," you admit. "It's just... Max has always been so protective. And he's made it clear how he feels about his friends dating his sister."

George's lips quirk into a half-smile. "Good thing we're not dating then, eh?"

You roll your eyes, but can't help smiling back. "Right. Just fucking."

"Exactly," George says, pulling you closer. "Nothing to worry about."

But as he kisses you, slow and deep, you can't shake the feeling that this is far more complicated than either of you want to admit.

Weeks pass, and your "arrangement" with George continues. The sneaking around gets easier, the guilt less noticeable. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But then there are nights when you catch yourself staring at him too long. When your fingers linger in his hair, when you laugh too hard at his jokes, when his hands slip under your hoodie, and you realize—this doesn’t feel casual anymore.

You don’t just look forward to those stolen moments—you need them. You tell yourself it’s about the thrill, the secrecy, the rush of slipping out of Max’s flat unnoticed. But the truth is, you like waking up in his sheets. You like the way he pulls you back into bed, groaning that it’s too early. You like how he makes you tea in the morning, knowing exactly how you take it, without needing to ask.

And suddenly, the thought of this ending makes your stomach twist.

You should say something. You should ask him if he feels it too.

But you don’t.

Because once you say it out loud, you can’t brush it off anymore. 

If you admit it, you can’t take it back.

And you’re not sure if you’re ready for that.

One night, after a particularly wild party at some private club celebrating another one of the Sidemen’s achievements, you end up with a group of friends back at George‘s. The bass from the music downstairs thrums through the walls as George presses you against the door, his lips hot on your neck.

"We shouldn't," you gasp, even as your fingers tangle in his hair. "Someone could come up..."

George grins against your skin. "That's half the fun, innit?"

You're about to retort when the door handle rattles. Your heart leaps into your throat as you hear a familiar voice on the other side.

"George! You in there?"

It's Max.

You freeze, panic flooding your system. George's eyes widen, but he quickly springs into action. He shoves you towards his closet, motioning for you to hide. You slip inside just as George opens the door.

"Yeah, mate. What's up?" George's voice is impressively casual.

"Have you seen my sister? Can't find her anywhere."

You hold your breath, praying Max doesn't decide to search the room.

"Nah, sorry. Maybe she went home early."

There's a pause, and you can picture Max's suspicious frown. Your heart pounds as you listen to the conversation through the closet door. You can practically feel Max's suspicion radiating through the wood.

"Right," Max says slowly. "Well, if you do see her, tell her I'm looking for her."

"Course, mate," George replies smoothly. "I'll let her know if I spot her."

You hear the door close and let out a shaky breath. A moment later, the closet door opens and George's face appears, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes.

"Coast is clear," he whispers, helping you out.

You stumble slightly, the adrenaline making you unsteady. George's hands catch your waist, steadying you. The touch sends a familiar spark through your body, but the fear of almost being caught overshadows it.

"That was too close," you mutter, running a hand through your hair.

George nods, his expression sobering. "Maybe we should call it a night. I'll sneak you out the back."

You agree, and with George's help, manage to slip out of the house unnoticed. As you make your way home, you can't shake the feeling that your luck is running out.

The next few weeks are tense. You find yourself jumping at every sound, convinced that Max is about to burst in and catch you in the act. George notices your unease and suggests taking a break, but the thought of not seeing him makes your chest ache in a way you're not ready to confront.

As autumn creeps in, painting London in shades of gold and crimson, you find yourself spending more time at George's flat. The cozy nights in, wrapped in blankets and each other's arms, start to feel dangerously domestic. You catch yourself imagining a future where you don't have to hide, where you can walk hand-in-hand with George down the street without fear of being spotted.

One chilly evening, as you're curled up on George's sofa watching a movie, the weight of the secret becomes too much.

"George," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think we need to tell Max soon."

He turns to you, surprise etched on his features. "You sure? I thought we agreed to keep this under wraps."

You nod, twisting your fingers nervously. "I know, but... I'm tired of sneaking around. And honestly, I'm starting to think that this might be more than just casual."

George's expression softens, and he pulls you closer. "Yeah," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I've been thinking the same thing."

-------------

It wasn’t meant to happen like this.

but apparently, George is an idiot.

The tension in the air was palpable as you walked into your shared flat to find Max holding George's hoodie like a piece of evidence at a crime scene. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "Why is this in our flat?" Your heart raced as you tried to play off the situation nonchalantly. "Maybe George left it here," you suggested with a shrug.

Max's gaze flicked between you and the hoodie. "In your room?"

Your throat tightened as you replied, "Maybe."

Max's mind worked like a detective on a true crime documentary at that moment, piecing together the puzzle before him. And then, his expression changed from confusion to horror, his jaw-dropping.

"You're shagging George," he exclaimed.

You winced and tried to downplay the situation. "Max—"

"YOU'RE SHAGGING GEORGE," he repeated, his voice growing louder.

Frustration and embarrassment washed over you as you dropped your head into your hands. "For fuck's sake, can you not say it like that?"

But Max was already caught up in the drama of it all, looking around wildly like he was in an episode of punked. "How long has this been going on? When did this start? Why am I just finding out now?!"

You shifted uncomfortably. "Uh...a while?"

"A while?!" Max's disbelief was evident.

"...A few months?" You offered weakly.

"MONTHS?!" Max couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"It's not a big deal!" you insisted.

"Not a big deal?! You’re shagging my mate!" Max's frustration reached its boiling point.

You flinched and pleaded with him to lower his voice, but he continued to express his disbelief that this was happening behind his back. In a desperate attempt to calm him down and protect your relationship with George, you blurted out, "It's nothing serious! We're just...having fun. Casual."

Max blinked in surprise. "Casual? With George?"

You nodded, trying to defend yourself. "Yes?"

"With George?"

"Yes, Max!" you exclaimed in frustration.

Max's expression shifted as he absorbed the information and then whipped out his phone.

"What are you doing?" you asked nervously.

"Texting George," he replied, his thumbs flying across the screen. "He has five seconds to explain himself before I track him down and make him piss himself."

Before you could stop him, George walked into the flat at that exact moment.

Perfect timing, you thought sarcastically.

George froze upon seeing the tension between you and Max. His eyes flicked from you to his hoodie in Max's hands, and it was clear he knew exactly what was going on, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

"...Shit," he muttered under his breath.

"So it's true!" Max shouted. "You absolute little—"

But before he could finish his sentence, George raised his hands like a hostage negotiator. "Alright, before you get mad—"

"I'M NOT MAD!" Max yelled, which only confirmed how mad he actually was. "I'M JUST CURIOUS AS TO WHY YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?"

Max paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "I can't believe this. My best mate and my sister. It's like a bloody soap opera!"

You and George exchanged nervous glances as Max continued his tirade.

"How long has this been actually going on? And don't lie to me!" Max demanded, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two of you.

George cleared his throat. "About... six months?"

"Six months?!" Max's voice rose an octave. "You've been sneaking around behind my back for half a year?!"

You winced. "We didn't mean for it to go on this long. It just... happened."

Max let out a humorless laugh. "Oh, it just happened, did it? What, you tripped and fell onto his dick?"

"Max!" you exclaimed, scandalized.

George stepped forward, his hands raised placatingly. "Look, mate, I know this isn't ideal—"

"Ideal?!" Max interrupted. "This is the opposite of ideal! This is a bloody nightmare!"

He turned to you, his expression a mix of hurt and betrayal. "And you. I warned you about getting involved with YouTubers. I told you they were all walking red flags!"

You felt a surge of defiance. "George isn't like that. He's different."

Max scoffed. "That's what they all say. And then next thing you know, you're just left high and dry”

"It's not like that," George interjected, his voice firm. "This isn't just some fling."

Max's eyes widened as he looked between you and George. "What are you saying?"

You took a deep breath, reaching for George's hand. "We didn't mean for this to happen, Max. But... it's more than just casual now."

George squeezed your hand, a small smile on his face. "We care about each other. A lot."

Max stares at you both, jaw clenched so tight you think he might actually crack a tooth. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s debating whether to pace, punch something, or just scream into the void.

Finally, he exhales a sharp breath and rakes a hand through his hair, pacing a tight circle before stopping in front of George. His glare could burn a hole straight through him.

"You," he says, voice tight. "You, out of all people."

George swallows, standing his ground. "Look, mate—"

"Don’t 'mate' me," Max cuts him off, shaking his head. He lets out a humorless laugh, but there's no amusement in his eyes. "This is actually happening. You—" he jabs a finger at George's chest, then turns to you, scandalized. "And you?!"

You don’t answer. What could you possibly say? Sorry I broke your one rule? Sorry I fell into bed with your best mate and accidentally started catching feelings?

Max lets out another deep, exhausted sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—" He levels George with a look so sharp it could cut glass. "You actually give a shit about her?"

George doesn't hesitate. "Of course I do."

Max narrows his eyes, searching George’s face like he’s waiting for him to blink, to crack, to say something stupid that will give him an excuse to deck him. But George holds his gaze, unwavering.

After a long beat, Max scoffs, shaking his head. "Fuck me."

He turns away, pacing again, muttering something under his breath. You barely catch the words "This is my villain origin story."

Finally, he stops, pinches the bridge of his nose, and points a finger directly at George.

For a long moment, silence filled the room. You could practically see the gears turning in Max's head as he processed this new information. Finally, he looked up at you both, his expression resigned.

"You're serious about this? Both of you?"

You and George nodded solemnly. "We are," you said softly.

Max sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe this is happening. My best mate and my little sister. It's like some bad rom-com."

He stood up suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at George. "If this is just some game to you, Clarke, I swear to God—"

"It's not," George interrupted, his voice firm. "I care about her, Max. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time."

You felt your heart flutter at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest.

Max's gaze softened slightly as he looked between the two of you. He could see the genuine affection in your eyes, the way you unconsciously leaned towards each other.

"Fine," he said finally, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I can see this isn't just some fling. But I swear, George, if you hurt her—"

"I won't," George assured him quickly.

Max continued as if George hadn’t spoken. "—I will end you, I will make your life a living hell. I will start beef with you publicly. I will make a YouTube exposé, I will get you cancelled on Twitter. I will make sure your brand deals drop like flies. I will be so fucking annoying that you will never know peace again."

George nodded solemnly, as if this was a completely resonable response  " Understood."

Max turned to you, his expression softening. "And you. You're sure about this? You know what you're getting into, dating a YouTuber?"

You smile softly at Max, touched by his concern despite his outburst. "I'm sure, Max. I know it won't be easy, but hes worth it."

Max groans dramatically, flopping back onto the sofa. "I can't believe this is my life now. My best mate and my sister. What's next, Mum dating KSI?"

You and George both choke back laughter at the mental image. The tension in the room eases slightly as Max's dramatics break through the awkwardness.

George chuckled nervously. "Does this mean we have your blessing?"

Max shot him a withering glare. "Blessing? Don't push it, mate. I'm still processing the fact that you've been sneaking around with my sister for months."

You winced. "We really are sorry about that, Max. We didn't mean for it to go on so long without telling you."

Max ran a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. "I just... I don't understand how this even happened. When did you two start... you know?"

You and George exchanged glances, silently debating how much to reveal. Finally, you took a deep breath and launched into the story.

"It started at Cal's birthday party," you began. "We were both a bit drunk, and one thing led to another..."

Max groaned. "Please spare me the details."

You rolled your eyes. "Nothing happened that night. But after that, we kept running into each other at events and parties. We'd flirt, maybe share a dance or two. It was harmless at first." As you speak, Max's expression cycles through disbelief, anger, and grudging amusement.

"...and then we just kept finding excuses to see each other," you finish lamely. "We didn't mean for it to become anything serious, but..."

"But it did," George adds softly, squeezing your hand.

Max groans, flopping back dramatically on the sofa. Muttering something about how this wasn’t how his day was supposed to go.

He sits up suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at George. "And you! What about all those girls you're always banging on about in your videos? That better all be a lie?"

George has the decency to look sheepish. "Ah, well... might've exaggerated a bit there, mate. For content, you know”

Max's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Exaggerated? Or flat-out lied?"

George shifted uncomfortably. "Well..."

You jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension. "Look, Max, the point is, George and I are together now. For real. No more sneaking around or lying."

Max sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. "I still can't believe this.” He stood up suddenly, pacing the room. "And what about when this all goes public, eh? Have you two geniuses thought about that? The fans will go mental. You'll be harassed non-stop."

You and George exchanged glances. It was clear neither of you had given much thought to the public aspect of your relationship.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," George said finally. "For now, we just want to focus on us. And making sure you're okay with this."

Max scoffed. "Okay with it? I'm far from okay with it. But..." he trailed off, looking between you and George. Despite his anger, he could see the genuine affection in your eyes, the way you instinctively leaned towards each other.

Then, after a beat—reluctantly, begrudgingly, like it physically pains him to say it— " I mean, I'd rather you weren't shagging one of my mates, but honestly?" He turned to George with a knowing look. "You could've picked worse. At least I know George. Even if he is an idiot sometimes."

George protested, but there was no real heat behind it. He knew Max was right - he could be an idiot sometimes. But when it came to you, he was determined to do better.

Relief washed over you as you threw your arms around your brother. "Thank you, Max. Really."

He hugged you back, then pulled away to point a finger at George. "And you. No funny business when I'm around, got it? I don't need to see my best mate snogging my sister."

George nodded solemnly, though you could see the mischief dancing in his eyes. "Wouldn't dream of it, mate."

Max gives him one last death glare before sighing dramatically and turning back to you. “I hate this. I hate it. I swear, if I ever walk in on anything, I'm moving out and never speaking to either of you again."

You laughed "Deal."

You and George share a glance, and suddenly, it doesn't feel as scary anymore. The weight that had been pressing on your chest for months lifts, replaced by a giddy lightness. You can't help the smile that spreads across your face, mirrored on George's.

As Max continues to grumble and mutter about the unfairness of it all, you and George gravitate towards each other. His arm slips around your waist, pulling you close, and you lean into him, reveling in the feeling of finally being able to do this openly.

The autumn sun streams through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, you can hear the bustle of London life - cars honking, people chattering, the distant rumble of the Tube. But in here, in this moment, the world has shrunk to just the three of you.

George's thumb traces lazy circles on your hip, sending shivers down your spine. You breathe in his familiar scent - a mix of cologne, laundry detergent, and something uniquely him. It's comforting, and grounding.

Max catches sight of you cuddling and makes exaggerated gagging noises. "Oh God, it's starting already. I'm going to need therapy after this."

You and George laugh, the sound mingling together in a way that makes your heart skip. You realize that this is the first time you've been able to laugh freely together in front of others, without worrying about giving yourselves away

As the days turn into weeks, you and George settle into a new rhythm. No more sneaking around, no more hushed whispers and furtive glances. Instead, there are lazy Sunday mornings spent tangled in his sheets, the London rain pattering against the windows. There are impromptu double dates with Max and Andrew, where you catch yourself marvelling at how natural it feels to be out in public with George, his hand intertwined with yours.

You find yourself falling deeper in love with George every day. It's in the little things - the way he makes your tea just right without asking, how he laughs at your terrible puns, it just makes your heart swell.

The YouTube world explodes when news of your relationship finally breaks. Your social media notifications blow up, a mix of excited fans, shocked friends, and the occasional hater. Your DMs are flooded with a mix of congratulations and jealous messages. You learn to ignore the hate comments and focus on the supportive messages from friends and fans.

Max, true to his word, makes a show of dramatically covering his eyes whenever you and George so much as hold hands in his presence. But you catch him smiling softly when he thinks you're not looking, and you know that deep down, he's happy for you.

As autumn fades into winter, you find yourself spending more and more time at George's flat. Your toothbrush migrates to his bathroom, your favourite mug finds a permanent home in his kitchen cupboard. One night, as you're curled up on his sofa watching old Sidemen videos (George insists it's "research"), he turns to you with a nervous smile.

"Move in with me," he says, his voice soft but sure.

Your heart skips a beat. "What?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

George takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your palm. "Move in with me," he repeats. "Half your stuff is here anyway. And I... I want to wake up next to you every morning."

You study his face, taking in the hopeful glint in his eyes, the slight flush on his cheeks.

Your heart swells with emotion as you look into George's eyes. The nervous hope there, the vulnerability – it's a side of him you've grown to cherish over these past months. You think about how far you've come from those first furtive encounters, sneaking around and convincing yourselves it was just casual fun.

"Yes," you whisper, a grin spreading across your face. "Yes, I'll move in with you."

George's face lights up, and he pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. When you finally part, you're both laughing, giddy with the promise of this new chapter.

The next few weeks are a whirlwind of boxes, packing tape, and furniture rearrangement. Max helps you move, grumbling good-naturedly about being demoted to "pack mule" status. But you catch him giving George a stern talking-to when he thinks you're not listening, something about "taking care of my little sister, or else."

As you unpack your life into George's space – now your shared space – you're struck by how seamlessly your belongings fit together. Your books nestle comfortably next to his on the shelves. Your favourite blanket drapes over the back of the sofa, adding a pop of colour to the room. In the bedroom, your clothes hang side by side in the closet—proof that you’re done sneaking around, done pretending this is casual. Proof that this is real.

[burst-of-iridescent]

well since i can already tell that we’re all going to be subjected to the same old tired mai & mai.ko discourse for the foreseeable future, let’s get it clear right now that the atla comics have never been, and will never be acceptable mediums of character development, and here’s why:

1. the comics are given the benefit of hindsight, which impairs organic character growth.

it’s become extremely clear over the last few years that many of the comics are made as, or include, direct responses to criticisms of the original show — especially when it comes to katara, mai, and the canon pairings. aang didn’t ask katara for consent? look, he’s checking if he can kiss her! mai doesn’t care about fire nation imperialism? here, she’s an anti fascist! iroh was a creep to june? don’t worry, here he is apologising!

many of the things the characters do or say in the comics feel unnatural because they are not written as characters, but as mouthpieces for the creators to address fandom complaints from the original show.

“but that’s good, right? they’re trying to make it better!” i mean… sure? it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s damage control, and that no matter what stories span the middle, the arcs of these characters still begin and end with avatar: the last airbender, and the legend of korra, both of which are fixed and immutable. the comics cannot retroactively fix the issues of either show, because they’ve already been defined as the goalposts of the characters’ lives, and there is no way to undo that.

it’s like if you eat a meal that isn’t to your satisfaction, and maybe the chief makes you another dish, which is all well and good — but it doesn’t fix the fact that the original meal still sucked! sometimes, accepting criticism means accepting that there’s no way to go back and fix it but to do better next time, with the next story you wish to tell.

if the legend of korra didn’t exist, and the arcs of the characters were left open after atla, then maybe there would be for the room for the comics to function as character development if not for the fact that…

2. the comics are intended for a very different audience than the show.

it’s obvious that the audience for the original show vastly outnumbers the audience for the comics, likely by thousands, if not millions. this isn’t the mcu, where the installation of any atla property is vital to understanding the next, and so on. you can skip the comics and miss nothing whatsoever (and honestly your life would be far improved by doing so).

those who read the comics are likely only the real diehard fans of the show — and the creators know this, which is why we have the whole issue of point one above. but this difference in audience matters, because it reflects the significance of the story being told, and how important it is for the audience to know it. this is why, if the characters’ development and storylines in the comics truly, genuinely mattered, it would have been in the show already.

i’m not saying that the gaang wouldn’t have continued to grow and change post-atla, but generally stories exist as closed circuits, self-contained within themselves. when you end atla, you’re meant to believe that those arcs are finished. that’s the whole reason the comics deal mostly with fun silly adventures, or with quick, temporary conflicts instead of grand, overarching narratives, because they are not truly meant to function as a continuation of the story of atla, or its characters.

(if you ask me frankly, they’re meant to be nostalgia cash grabs, but that’s neither here nor there.)

creator intention matters with the atla comics (or any atla property, in fact), because creator intention was the subject of criticism for the original show in the first place. why must we rely on the comics or the cookbook or avatar legends to tell us that katara did things with her life outside of aang? why do we need to turn to something released nearly two decades after atla to find any evidence that mai denounced the fire nation’s imperialist indoctrination, when she’s romantically involved with one of the show’s most important characters? why are these stories relegated to a medium with far less reach, far too late?

the answer is that the writers didn’t find those stories to be originally worth telling, and that is the real problem fans have been pointing out since 2008.

so, tldr:

[notjustjavierpena]

Tension

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Back in November, I posted a fic where @nerdieforpedro wrote a comment in their tags that said ‘I need you to crack my back, sir’. This is stupid but it stuck with me, so here you go. I suppose it’s also my own way of saying that I see everything you all write about my stuff. I love y’all.

Summary: Your husband cracks your back when you come home from work. Also, you are trying for a baby.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, back-cracking, massages, a good girl, fingering, dirty talk, hard and fast piv sex, javier whimpering is its own warning, clit stim, breeding kink, creampie, they’re in loooove

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54705589

Tension

You drag yourself into the living room where Javier is currently napping on the couch, arms crossed over his chest and chin pointing downward. He looks peaceful but the tension in your back is enough to disturb him from his slumber and not feel bad about it.

You bend down over him, gently shaking him.

“Javi,” you call softly. It takes you three tries before he stirs, opening his eyes with a little confusion as he tries to figure out where he is. 

“What is it, baby?” His voice is slightly raspy from sleep. You smile apologetically.

“I need you to crack my back,” you say. 

You don’t know how it happened but it feels like something is pinched, probably from an awkward position during the night or even during other activities. You have tried to relieve the tension all day by twisting your body from side to side but to no avail.

“What?” He grabs the back of the couch to pull himself into a sitting position. You take a step back.

“I think something’s… I don’t know, it’s just so frustrating. I’m tense as hell,” you explain, turning your back to him to try and point to the spot that’s been aching since you got into work in the morning, “It’s right here. Between the shoulder blades.”

“Right,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply, and breaks into a yawn, “Take your top off and lie down on the floor.”

You do as he says, smiling a little to yourself as you hear the groan that he makes when getting up from the couch. Perhaps you should return the favor. You lay down on the floorboards of the apartment, flat on your stomach, face turning to the side, and your arms along your sides. 

Another grunt is heard as Javier gets down on the ground with you. He places a knee on either side of your thighs, hovering above your legs, and then he takes a hold of the hem of your pants, “Okay if I pull them down a bit? Then I can do the whole spine.”

“Go ahead.”

Javier yanks down your bottoms, turning them into something that resembles low-rise style. He then heats up his hands by rubbing them together, “How rough can I be?”

“Can’t believe we’re doing something that requires you to ask that and it isn’t sex,” you wiggle your hips a bit but then wince as pain shoots through your body again.

“Answer the fucking question,” he says with a roll of his eyes, smiling but impatient.

“Don’t hold back.”

Javier’s now-warm palms settle on your back. You sigh softly at the feeling of him touching your skin so carefully, treating you like something delicate until you feel him place one hand on top of his other to center the pressure right between your shoulders. He pushes down and you exhale sharply.

Crack.

You moan in relief. Endorphins flood your system. 

“That was so nice, baby,” you praise, “Thank you.”

“I’m not done,” Javier kisses you right where he has just relieved the tension. Then he moves down and does it again.

Another crack is heard. You curl your toes, eyes fluttering closed as another wave of feel-good hormones begins to flow through your system. 

“Good girl,” Javier compliments, and you don’t have to ask if he is smirking because it’s evident from the tone of his voice as he sees the shiver that creeps up your neck, “More?”

“Please.”

So he does it again.

And again.

And again.

Until you feel like putty underneath his touch. You want to say something but with each skim of his fingers, each rough push of his entire body’s weight, you only manage to groan in pleasure. 

Above you, Javier has gone quiet but his breathing has turned more erratic. He has switched from cracking your back to massaging your sore muscles instead, kneading along your sides whilst you reward him with small sighs and moans of satisfaction as well as gratitude. 

You shiver as he presses his thumbs into the place where your neck meets your shoulders, holding it for a while before dragging his whole palms outwards. It feels good, almost like an embrace.

He repeats the move until you feel sweat starting to break out on your skin from how warm his hands are. A moan escapes your mouth, the same kind that you usually make when he kisses your neck. 

“You like that?” He asks in a tone that you know too well. You nod. He does it again but goes closer to your neck this time, fingers skimming along your pulse point.

Something in the atmosphere shifts after that. 

Soon, he descends on your body, going achingly slow as he searches out his goal. He ends up digging two thumbs into the very top of your ass. He isn’t downright groping you but there’s a hesitation each time he pushes into the plump flesh there. Teasingly, you push up into his hands.

“You’re so sexy like this,” he mutters and you can hear him move on the floor, crawling backward so he can kiss the small of your back when he leans down. 

“With a sore back?” You snort to hide how excited this is making you, a dull ache settling between your thighs.

“In any way,” he clarifies. He doesn’t even hesitate when he starts pulling down both your pants and your underwear, and you don’t protest but instead lift your hips to help him yank them down until they sit around your ankles. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he dips a finger inside of you, pushing down towards your stomach to make you squirm on the floor. You whimper. He makes a come-hither motion to rub against your g-spot and you immediately move your arms forward to grab at the ground. Your cunt squelches and Javier swears again, “You’re soaked.”

“Of course, I am, was so fucking good the way you were touching me, and… I’m like a damn clock with being wet for you when I ovulate,” you moan, pushing back against his hand. He groans at the realization of what time of the month it is. He gets to put a baby in you.

His fingers work you open, teasing you towards an orgasm by doing exactly what he knows gets you there quickly. The sounds of your wetness are obscene, only getting more lewd when you come right there on the floor with your pants around your thighs. 

“Baby, shit, more,” you pant with a desperate whine, clenching around Javier’s digits as they continue rubbing against your front wall even though your orgasm has long subsided. He doesn’t relent but you don’t mind, relishing in the pressure inside of your cunt. It’s good but it’s not his cock, “Fuck me, baby. Please, I— I need you in me.”

You hear the sound of a belt buckle being undone and then the shuffle of denim being pulled down. You look over your shoulder to find him with his jeans sitting around his knees, too desperate himself to get fully undressed. 

“Eyes forward,” he commands you and ignores his own desire until you do as you are told. You hold onto the floorboards with flat hands, only spreading your legs slightly to make him as tight a fit inside of you as possible. 

His whole weight crushes you so heavenly in the next moment, and his generous length sheaths itself in the warm embrace of your soaked walls with ease until he bottoms out. Your face screws up with the intensity especially because he leans down over you to groan hotly into your ear. 

“Love this little pussy,” he moans as you both adjust to being connected like this. He rests a forearm beside your head, biting into your shoulder and soothing the mark with his wet tongue. It drives you insane that he is not moving inside of you yet, and he seems to know with how he taunts you, “Want me to fuck her silly?”

“Javi,” you whimper and nod frantically, “I’ll come so good for you, milk your big cock with my pussy. Please, baby.” 

“I bet you will, mi chica sucía (my dirty girl),” he answers before giving you exactly what you want; the first roll of his hips makes your mind go blank, even moreso when he starts fucking you into the floor like an animal. 

His legs frame yours, his pelvis crashes into the plump flesh of your ass with a dirty smack each time, and he is burning hot against your back. You won’t last long with him reaching so deep inside of you, the thick head of his stiff cock sliding over your g-spot like his fingers had earlier. Each nudge makes your cunt suck him further in, and he starts panting above you with the effort he puts into fucking you. It doesn’t even occur to you that your knees are aching when he has you like this. 

“Please,” you beg without exactly knowing what you want from him; everything he is giving you has you dizzy with lust. You tense up as your orgasm approaches with rapid motions, and he goes even harder now that you don’t fly forwards with the slamming of his body into yours, “Gonna come— I’m… oh, I’m coming, fuck, baby, I’m coming!”

“I can feel you,” he growls and barely moves inside of you anymore, having replaced it with grinding against you to not miss a single pulse of your spasming, peaking cunt. You writhe underneath him, and he treats you to a messy kiss as one of his hands comes up to cup your chin so he can turn your head. 

“Come in me, please, baby, need your babies in me,” you cry against his mouth with furrowed eyebrows. He whimpers at your request, faltering in his rhythm for the first time since he started fucking you. 

“I’ll make you come so hard again, mi amor (my love), want you to spasm around my dick,” he stutters a bit when he speaks. The hand on your chin slips down your body and then underneath it too, his flat palm against your pelvis until he presses up into it to angle your hips. You stay in this new position, back arched to perfection - dopamine in your body making you forget the ache - so he can stab at your g-spot and follow it up by rubbing your needy clit with no buildup. 

The neighbors are bound to hear you screaming as you come again a minute later. The clenching shocks of pleasure are mind-altering and enough for Javier to finish alongside you, spreading his warm seed inside of you with a desperate groan. 

You both collapse with him still buried in you. Your clothes are sticky with how much you have sweated, your knees ache with reality slowly coming back, and your body feels warm and sated despite it all. 

“Let’s just lie here for a while,” you say and reach behind you to grab at him as he starts to remove himself from you, “I think this was it. I know it sounds stupid but—“

“Nothing you say sounds stupid, mi amor (my love),” he still breathes hard, brushing your hair away to kiss your neck, “Love making babies with you.” 

You make a noise of agreement. Then you rest your cheek against the floor whilst he nibbles on your neck, humming softly at the feeling of it combined with the lingering pressure of him in your cunt when he finally slips out. 

“Te quiero tanto (I love you so much),” you say with closed eyes and a satisfied smile. 

“Love you too, baby,” he says back and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.17. EPILOGUE

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . sweet / i thought you wanted to dance by tyler the creator

he tries to take in a deep breath as the performance comes to an end. he feels the familiar way anxiety is constricting his chest as he gets up. the room has gone silent after they cheered; y/n and oikawa have just won first place, and the camera cuts to a closeup of them hugging each other tightly, both of them crying. a commentator is saying something about this being the second gold medal they have both won in a row when kenma stands up. everyone in the room looks to him as he moves to shut off the screen and grab the camera that’s been live streaming their reactions. he can see suna out of the corner of his eye giving him the slyest grin ever and he can’t help the smile that stretches across his own face.

“so, some of you guys caught on… but we’re not at my apartment. we’re gonna go find y/n and i have a surprise for her,” he’s talking to the camera, and the words are barely coming out of his mouth, the simultaneous panic and excitement choking him.

kuroo and iwaizumi are slapping him on the back as he walks out, kuroo following after him. he takes the camera from kenma with a stupid grin as slappable as suna’s on his face. kenma tries not to pay any attention to it. he grabs his phone from his pocket; it's open to the chat of his own livestream and he skims the chat. it’s moving faster than he can read, but a few words are catching his eyes. they’re all trying to guess what his surprise is, and some of them have gotten it.

then a notification appears at the top of his screen, and it slightly eases his panic.

“OIKAWA TOORU ☆ has gone live!”

soon the notification is replaced with a phone call from oikawa and he tries to take another deep breath before answering while kuroo talks to the camera.

“hey, is this working? how’s it going? you on your way?” oikawa sounds slightly breathless, which is to be expected. they’ve probably just gotten off the ice. 

“yeah. it’s good, i just left the room,” kenma responds, watching his chat freak out. they know oikawa’s gone live, and kuroo has informed them that kenma's on the phone with him.

the entire plan had taken a lot of preparation; finding a room within the arena that he could stay in to stream watching the entire performance that he’d also be able to easily leave and get to y/n from. iwaizumi was still new as an athletic trainer, but he and oikawa had been able to get in contact with a manager to help them.

“alright, i think my button camera is working–chat, if you can hear me, this is a once in a life time sight: y/n’s making me take off her skates for her like i’m her servant. don’t let your significant others treat you like this,” oikawa’s tone is light hearted before the call goes quiet. kenma thinks he can barely hear y/n before oikawa grumbles about something. “kenma, i’m gonna end the call. we’ll see you soon.”

“your chat is pretty smart, i think they’ve already figured out what’s going on,” kuroo teases, keeping the camera on him.

kenma can only sigh, trying to prepare himself for the moment. “this is a lot more nervewracking than it looks. you guys might want to watch this from oikawa’s point of view instead,” he responds, using his phone to follow his own suggestion.

“no no no, we’re going this way,” oikawa's microphone isn’t the best, but he really couldn’t expect more from the little camera pinned to oikawa's shirt.

“oikawa, i’m pretty sure i know where we’re going. you’re the one who got us lost earlier today. the dressing rooms are to the right.” it’s only through oikawa’s stream, but hearing y/n's voice is enough to make his heart race–with more excitement than panic this time–he thinks.

kuroo puts a hand on his shoulder, “this is gonna go great, kenma.”

“thanks,” he replies, continue to watch oikawa’s stream.

“no! i–how dare you,” she doesn’t even know that she's just humiliated oikawa in front of his entire fanbase, and the thought makes him laugh. “i knew that too. but i have a surprise for you,” oikawa huffs.

“what? how did you even have the time to set anything up?” y/n’s looking up at him with a nervous smile.

“you’ll see soon enough.”

that’s the last thing he hears from oikawa’s stream before he shuts off his phone. he’s almost there. 

⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

all she wants to do is change out of her dress. the bottoms of her tights are wet from the ice and the few stray strands of hair that have escaped the tight, sprayed-down bun it’s been pulled into are sticking to her face. 

“god, oikawa, where are you taking me? why am i always getting into these situations i didn’t ask for right after the olympics?” she complains, walking barefoot next to him.

“hey, i’m not waiting outside your dressing room cornering you into a wall and telling you to break up with your boyfriend to date me. just trust me, you’ll be happy. we’re almost there,” he fires back and she can’t stop the mix of a gasp and laugh that comes out of her.

“you did not have to do atsumu that dirty. you know, he actually texted me–oh my god,” she stops in her tracks when they turn the corner and sees him standing on the other end of the hallway.

her feet move faster than her head and she’s running towards him, jumping into his arms as he spins her around, any fatigue she had previously felt disappearing.

“kenma, what are you doing here?” she slaps his shoulder lightly, mind still trying to process that he’s really in front of her.

“i don’t think i could go a week without seeing you, and i’m not missing your performance just because of a stupid class,” he answers, giving her a small smile.

her face warms a little as his words and she returns his smile before she notices kuroo, whose holding a camera a few feet away from them.

“are you recording surprising me at the olympics?” she laughs, pushing a hair that’s fallen in front of his face behind his ear.

“well, actually–” he pauses, taking in a deep breath before he’s kneeling in front of her.

“oh my– kenma. you’re not–” she takes a step back, mind going blank.

“i was wondering if you would marry me?”

her makeup was probably already ruined from the first time she cried while she was still on the ice rink, but if it hadn’t been then, her mascara was surely running down her face now.

she ends up getting on her knees in front of him to hold his face and kiss him while he’s still waiting for her answer, “yes. of course yes. of course i’ll marry you.”

prev. | m.list

extras <3

kenma was nervous the entire stream while him and everyone else was watching y/n and oikawa's performance but he was trying to hide it

kuroo was behind the camera but him and oikawa were just giving each other kissy faces while kenma and y/n were trying to have a private moment (oikawa forgot he was still streaming and so anyone in his chat was like ??? why is kuroo making kissy faces at us LMAO)

kenma's chat moderators are not having a good time

his chat absolutely exploded when he got down on one knee

don't come at me about time and how it's been four years and no one should be in school anymore or about how cameras and streaming works okay

mostly everyone's graduated

but kenma failed a few classes and had poor attendance and was there for another year or something idk

i cannot do more research please

proposals are so weird I had to google "how to say yes to a proposal" but I thought this was cute <3

this was NOT very proofread

thank you for reading cold kisses <3 this was a blast to write

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @r0seandth0rns @gsyche @kitnootkat @seillarium @tamimemo @myromanempiree @coldcigarette @eclipticnikki @squiishymeow @vivian-555 @cryptictheseus @eclecticeggknightpsychic @kodzukein @kawaii-angelanne @luvly-writer @kodzuken-hoe @kodzuken88 @bookworm-center @theweirdfloatything @glitch-karma @spicana

[mr-double-downer]

Seriously cannot express enough how much I hate the sanitization of the internet to where content creators can’t talk about serious topics without fear of demonization because unfortunately 9/10 passion doesn’t pay the bills. Like you shouldn’t feel like you can’t discuss some of the worst shit imaginable without censoring yourself to the point you sound like a parent on the peanuts. why is all social media except for tumblr of all things like this. Of course it’s a point to be made we can say words like sex, rape, murder, suicide, ect ect without fear of backlash, because that’s the way things should be.

No this hasn’t happened because people got more sensitive but more so big corporations don’t see it as advertiser friendly so most social media websites have more stricter guidelines on what you can and cannot say than a catholic household. cool, love the way things continue to get worse and we’re all treated with kids gloves.

[insomniac4000]

I have an idea for a fic about will! So u get invited onto the fellas or saving graces podcast and since their in the same building where will films his videos you could like bump into him and just something along those lines aha

Fellas to lovers

1517 words

Y/N felt the nerves build up with each step she took walking down the East London Street, eventually she made it and looked up at the light brick building with big windows; The Fellas Studio’s where inside were some of her favourite Youtubers and content creators. For months and years y/n had watched these people form the comfort of her own home but now, she was considered their contemporary but she had a huge case of imposter syndrome.

“Hi, I’m Y/N I’m here for The Fella’s podcast?” She said to the receptionist politely. The receptionist gave her a pass and sent her up on her way. Cal and Chip were waiting, just talking casually on the chairs when they heard footsteps on the stars and a very nervous y/n entered the room. The boys were lovely, they spent a few minutes trying to ease nerves and ran over some questions before the recording was about to start. Y/N clutched the microphone, steadying the slight shake of the hand just as Calum announced recording.

"Welcome back to The Fellas Podcast, the place where we get the most interesting people on the internet to sit down and chat. Today, we're excited to have someone who’s not just interesting but downright viral. She’s been breaking the internet with her hilarious skits, relatable content, and just that magnetic personality. Please welcome TikTok sensation, Y/N!" Freezy did the intro and y/n smiled through the nerves as much as she could.

"Thank you so much for having me, guys! I’m a huge fan of the podcast, so this is a bit surreal for me."

 "We’re excited to have you here too! First off, how does it feel to be the queen of TikTok right now? I mean, your rise has been insane—millions of followers in such a short time." Cal started off with an easy question to try and ease y/n in as much as he could.

"Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I wake up and have to remind myself that this is actually happening. It all happened so quickly, you know? I started posting just for fun, and suddenly it’s like—boom—everyone’s watching."

"Let’s talk about that ‘boom’ moment. Was there a specific video or a moment where you thought, ‘Okay, this is really taking off’?" Chip asked

"Yeah, there was one video that really kicked things off. It was a skit about dealing with overprotective parents, and I guess it just resonated with a lot of people. The comments were flooded with ‘This is literally me!’ and people tagging their friends. The video hit a million views in like 24 hours, and from there, things just snowballed."

"I remember that video! It was everywhere on my feed for days. What do you think it is about your content that connects with so many people?" Freezy added in, by this point y/n’s nerves had subsided massively, her body language relaxed more, she stopped playing with her long brown hair as much and she allowed to self to sink back on the sofa a little bit more.

"I think a lot of it is just about being relatable. I try to tap into those everyday moments that everyone experiences but maybe doesn’t talk about openly. Whether it’s dealing with awkward social situations, struggling with mental health, or just the weird quirks we all have—if I find it funny or interesting, chances are someone else will too."

"And you’re not afraid to get personal, either. You’ve shared a lot about your own life and struggles. Was that a conscious decision from the start?" Chip was now coming in with a more personal question, it was one of the ones they had shown y/n at the start so it didn’t come as a shock and she was ready to answer it.

"At first, not really. I was just making content that felt natural to me. But as I started getting more followers, I realized that people appreciated that openness. I think it helps people feel less alone when they see someone else going through the same things they are. It’s therapeutic in a way, for both me and my audience."

"Has that openness ever backfired? We all know the internet can be a brutal place sometimes." Cal already knew the answer to this question, it was something all content creators needed to know how to toe the line.

"Oh, for sure. I’ve had my share of trolls and negative comments. There were times when it really got to me. But over time, I’ve developed a thicker skin. You have to, in this line of work. At the end of the day, I try to focus on the positive feedback and the amazing community that’s been built around my content."

“And you definitely have at least one massive fan in this office, apart from us a certain Mr Lenney always comes in and shows us your videos,” Chip added and as him and Cal had a little laugh about it.

“No way really?” Y/n tried to laugh along and tried to seem like she was calm and just going with the flow but on the inside her heart was beating faster, Will? That beautiful blue eyed boy who’s content she had been watching for years? He liked her stuff?

“He’s also single now so feel free to drop downstairs to his office once you’ve finished here, I bet he’ll go wild! Anyway enough about the lanky Geordie idiot what does the future hold for Y/N? Are you sticking with TikTok, or do you have other plans in the works?" Chip asked, y/n was grateful that the conversation had changed now, although she was now thinking some thoughts about that Geordie male that she could never talk about in public.

"I’ll always have a love for TikTok, but I definitely want to branch out. I’m working on a YouTube channel right now, and I’ve been talking to some brands about collaborations. Maybe even a podcast—who knows? The possibilities are endless, and I’m excited to see where this journey takes me."

"That’s awesome! We’re sure whatever you do next is going to be huge. Before we wrap up, any advice for aspiring creators out there?" Cal asked as the podcast was about to wrap up.

"My biggest advice is just to be yourself. Don’t try to imitate what’s already out there. People are drawn to authenticity, so find what makes you unique and run with it. And most importantly, have fun with it, if you’re not enjoying what you’re doing, it’s not worth it."

"Wise words! Thanks so much for joining us today, Y/N. It’s been a blast having you on." Chip smiled

"Thanks for having me, guys! This was a lot of fun."

"And to all our listeners, make sure you’re following Y/N on TikTok if you aren’t already and keep an eye out for her next big move. Until next time, take care!" Cal signed off the Podcast and once the recording has stopped y/n exhaled a deep breath.

“You did really well, you should be proud of yourself,” Cal smiled giving y/n a small hug.

“Thank you so much, I’ve never done a Podcast before and I was really nervous but you two made me feel really welcome so thank you,” y/n told both of the boys sincerely. There was a little small talk but then Chip and Freezy needed to leave as they had a meeting. Y/N thanked them again and made her way downstairs, she momentarily paused remembering what The Fella’s had to say about a certain someone. She continued down the stairs, pulling out her phone ready film a TikTok when she felt her body collide with something.

“Oh my God I’m sorry,” y/n cried as she looked up and saw a male, dressed in all black, a mullet on top of his head, smile on his face and an iced coffee in his hand, it was him.

“No harm done. I didn’t expect to see you here,” his northern accent thick, as if often got when he was excited.

“Oh I’ve just filmed a Podcast for the fellas. I’m Y/N,”

“Oh I know who you are,” Will’s smile got even bigger, y/n tried to push back a blush.

“I just didn’t want you to think there’s a weird fan running around all of your offices,” y/n joked. Will sipped his coffee slightly smiling.

“No, I know who you are. Hopefully the guys were nice to you?”

“Oh they were, they erm…” y/n hesitated for a moment to think about if you wanted to say the next bit but there was a spark in her which told her to go for it. “They said you might be a bit of a fan?” y/n asked cheekily, biting her bottom lip slightly with a smile. Will sighed.

“Those fuckin’ morons. I do enjoy your TikTok’ yes.”

“It’s okay, I’ve been known to binge your videos too. And not for James,” y/n added. Will’s eyes sparkled.

“Well that’s new. Say, what are you doing now?” Will asked, his smiled dropped a little bit and he started to play around with the straw in his drink, y/n shook her head.

“Nothing really.”

“Fancy joining me for a coffee?” Will asked, trying to steady his voice, he was doing a good job of it, he looked very calm and cool. Y/N smiled, her heart beating out of her chest.

“I’d love to.”

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[cleolinda]

I’ve read a few of the umpteen thousand upset comments about the paid Watcher service, and I’ve read comments angry about the upset comments. There’s one thing I want to point out, and it’s that this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, “You’re saying people don’t deserve to earn money for their work.”

The Watcher guys do deserve to earn money. I already give them money. I give them $5 a month on Patreon, not because I think they do or don’t give me $5 worth of media, but because I want to support them. I canceled Netflix for pissing me off with its price hike/ad tier, but I give Watcher Entertainment money.

They’re saying now that the Patreon will be solely about the podcasts, and they understand if people leave. I’m perfectly happy to switch the support I can afford to the streaming service. With the early adopter 30% discount, I’d actually save money. In fact, I tried to subscribe, but the site didn’t work.

Watcher wanting to profit from their shows isn’t the problem. It’s that they’re now discovering that their fanbase is young and broke in a terrible economy, judging by tens of thousands of comments on multiple platforms. I can throw them $5/month, so I do. But the Patreon only has (checks notes) 5874 paying followers, and there’s a reason for that. $60/year upfront would not be “accessible.” Patreon is literally patronage from the people who can afford it.

If the guys had said up front, “ONLY new shows and episodes will be exclusive to the service,” I think we’d be having a different conversation right now. But at first they did say, “We’re pulling all our content from YouTube,” to the point where Variety had to issue an update. Like, that’s in print and I’m pretty sure it was on video. Now they’ve backtracked to ONLY new etc.—but most people haven’t heard, and they feel crushed. And the trust is probably gone regardless.

So now four years of back catalogue will stay public. And now, you’re paying $6.99 a month for one episode, maybe two, of something a week, and now, not an exclusive back catalogue. I would pay for Watcher shows before I’d pay for anyone else, but I just don’t think the company is big enough yet for a SVOD at that price. They’re not Dropout size. They needed to build more programming and get a higher follower count first, or at the very least, charge less.

The international price/exchange rate situation is a nightmare and I don’t know what it is they’re not doing to make it… not… be like that.

I don’t know what they should have done instead of a full streaming service, but surely there were alternatives? I’ve seen comments from people suggesting they GET a Patreon. Lean on that more! Do the shows exclusive for a month and then let them roll onto YouTube! I don’t know! Anything but One More Fucking Streaming Service, which enraged me, and I was willing to move my support to it!

And I shouldn’t say this, but I will. In the “Goodbye YouTube” video the guys posted, they say that setting up the streaming service has allowed Steven to do a remake of Worth It where he and his cohosts travel the world and eat expensive food. This is the first new show they announce. Not “We have always been committed to diversity and we’re now able to bring on new creator(s) to expand our programming.” No, a redo of an old show that by definition has got to be expensive. Commenters are saying they can’t pay for the streaming service because they can’t make ends meet in this economy. The optics are terrible. I genuinely question what the thought process even was here.

I love the guys and I still watch their shows. I want to see Watcher succeed. I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved in 2018 while recovering from surgery—as with a lot of people, their shows got me through a tough time. I’m as attached as anyone. If I can continue to afford monthly support—this is not a certainty—I’ll give it to them. I’m not a ~hater who doesn’t want Watcher to make money. But I am absolutely BAFFLED by every single decision here. I want them to figure out how to turn this around and go in a better direction, because right now, this ain’t it.

[rainecreatesstuff]

right not to get ahead of ourselves but I’ve had the best idea for another life series:

Past Life.

They start off with the normal traffic life system, but other than that, no rules or mechanics other than the very basic ones. Every session, a number of players are randomly selected, and randomly assigned different life seasons. Until the end of the session, they are to play exactly as they would if they were in that season.

Of course, the interpretation of this is entirely up to the individual players. I imagine for most seasons they would be given the actual mechanics for the time they’re playing that season. For example, if someone gets assigned secret life, a task will pop up in their inventory. Limited life players are playing with the clock system until the end of session, double life players are linked to their soulmates (maybe their previously assigned one, maybe a completely new one). Last lifers can gift lives, and maybe have a chance of being assigned boogeyman as well.

Like I said, it’s completely up to the players how they wanna interpret the prompt. Maybe to one person, it just means playing with a new set of rules and mechanics, maybe others decide they are fully embodying their character from that season, and their current alliances and grudges are null and void. Maybe some players tell their allies and others decide not to.

This would not only be a fun return to earlier mechanics and perhaps even character dynamics, it would also return the series (in my opinion) to feel more pvp oriented. You don’t know when your teammate might suddenly become a whole different person and stab you in the back. As well, you don’t know what rules other teams are playing with. Maybe you’re not allowed to team a red with a green, but others are. Maybe you, at times, don’t even know that killing someone will actually drop them, cuz it won’t if they’re on a clock. And if you’ve got the secret life heart system, well, do you keep that a secret? Do you tell people that when you lose health, it’s gone for the session? Is it safer or more dangerous?

I feel like we’re at the point now where a sort of nostalgia cycle is starting to hit people for third and last life especially, and we’ve also seen so many different mechanics that i think some people are starting to feel like it’s distancing itself too much from the original series. I feel like this would be a really fun way to sort of roll back and revisit the older seasons, and might give people who are feeling a bit less connected to the newer mechanics a sort of connection and closure with the older seasons so the creators can move on with bigger things.

Of course, probably none of this will ever happen, but I genuinely think it would be so cool and fun both in a narrative sense and a meta sense.

[beartitled]

Found your art through the STP Reddit and now I have a new TSPUD artist to enjoy!!! Your style is gorgeous :)

Reddit 🤨❔

I don’t have reddit

*sounds of paws tapping on the keyboard*

Aha repost with no permission I see? 🔍🐻‍❄️👓

This ask actually send me on a mini research lmao

I didn’t expect to see like 4 posts on Reddit with ppl posting my comics/sending a screenshot from ?Pinterest? and asking who the author is

That made me chuckle :'D

To be clear, I don’t really mind reposts if a person credits me

Always appreciate ppl askin permission 👍

For the reference: Reblog - a button that looks like this 🔄, shares a post on your page while showing the original author; Repost - when you screenshot/save someone’s art and post it on your page (ideally with credit, but if you’re a meanie you will just post images with no word about og author); Credit - a reference to the author «this art was made by [@author] on [this social media]». Sometimes see ppl mixing up terms 🫡

(Most of the time creators dislike reposts, bc it often leads to art theft)

Since we’re on the topic, specifically what I do have a problem with:

- Don’t use my art for AI training or for NFTs

- Don’t profit off my art (no merch is allowed without my approval, if you want to use my art for commercial purposes, this must be discussed with me in advance)

- Don't pass off my work as your own (here does reposting my art without credit, creating blogs/accounts impersonating me and so on)

- Don’t use my personal projects (this applies to my ocs, any original IPs/content I create: picture books, comics, artbooks, megadrawings etc. At some point in the future I may register a legal copyright for them btw.)

I’m more flexible and forgiving with fandom art, but still would appreciate ppl communicating with me. Fandom comic dubs - are welcomed, just be sure to credit me (tag me and share the final dub too man, I’m always interested). Fandom comic translations - ask permission first please.

This list is a pretty standard for any artist really, if you’re doubting something - feel free to ask 👍

If you see somebody breaking those/potentially breaking those - feel free to notify me 👍

I considered creating “blog rules” or “list of boundaries”, but I’m not sure if it’ll work on my blog 🤔 My header is pretty oversaturated as it is - portfolio, tags, navigation and so on; if I add rules to the pile, something tells me ppl won’t even look at it 💥 + I didn’t have specific issues with anyone yet (as far as I’m aware), I might create a list if something happens, but stayin hopeful for now

There’s certain things that do make me very uncomfortable/are triggering to me. But again didn’t have any specific issues where it was a huge problem + those stuff are highly personal to me to just put publicly. For now, I prefer to resolve issues personally, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle at this point 🫡 Mayhaps in the future it may change, we’ll see

Also some might have noticed that I don’t use any watermarks/signatures on my art, again considered that, but never ended up implementing that 🐻‍❄️ Some part of me just likes lookin at pictures in full HD quality with no watermark 😭 (I have an art signature, but I mostly use it in my mega drawings or if someone specifically asked for a commission lmao)

Sorry for a wall of text on such a sweet ask 💥 Just saw an opportunity to talk and took it lmao

Thank you, I really appreciate your words ❤️💕

Made a doödle of the narrator bois for the old time sake :D

Surprisingly there is a bunch of reposts of my art, with is a bit wild to me (you guys actually like my comics? 🤨 what? 🤨)

Especially never imagined my voices x princesses would get so popular 💥

Oh I see you went under read-more

Come closer

Closer

Just a smol step more

I forgot to draw Smitten’s brows in this specific frame

Now you will never unsee it 😈😈😈

*tiny mischievous bear giggling*

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Birthday Girl » Sebastian Stan

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Female Reader

Summary: Your friends take you to Comic Con for your birthday and you end up meeting your celebrity crush.

Warnings: Fluff, language, age gap (reader is 23), pet names

A/N: My birthday inspired this one shot🥰 I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it🩵

A/N 2: I used Google translate for the Romanian translations. I apologize if I got anything wrong.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found these on Pinterest.

You and your friends are at Comic Con for the recent Marvel movie Captain America: Civil War. Your friends decided to take you for your birthday. You couldn’t help but look at Sebastian the whole time. He’s your celebrity crush. All of your friends know that. Little do you know that one of your friends are going to announce to the Marvel cast that it’s your birthday. You were just so caught up with admiring Sebastian that you didn’t even hear your friends talking next to you. You didn’t know what it was about, but they’ll probably tell you later.

“I have something to say, but it’s not a question.” One of your friends say.

You turned your attention to your friends and noticed that one of them had the microphone.

“Today is my friend’s birthday.” She tells the Marvel Cast.

“And her celebrity crush is Sebastian Stan.” Another one of your friends say.

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped when they said that.

“Where’s your friend?” Sebastian asks her.

“Right here.” All of your friends move you in front of them and pointed at you. “And she would absolutely love it if you could say happy birthday to her in Romanian.” She says to him.

“Well, in that case, la multi ani, draga. Te iubesc.” Sebastian says in Romanian.

You were completely speechless. You didn’t know what to say. Your celebrity crush just said happy birthday and I love you to you… in Romanian. This is the best day ever for you.

“I- uhh- thank you!” You say, still speechless.

A smile grew on your face and it stayed there for the rest of the time you guys were there. The smile was still on your face when you guys went out for drinks for your birthday. You let your mind wander as your friend talked amongst themselves.

“Y/N?” One of your friends say.

“I think she’s still in shock about Sebastian Stan saying happy birthday to her in Romanian.” Another one of your friends say.

“Did you guys say something?” You asked, pulling yourself out of your thoughts.

“You’re so lovestruck over Sebastian Stan that you didn’t even hear us talking.” She says.

“I am not- oh my god! He’s here!” You say.

Your friends turned around to see Sebastian and the rest of the Marvel cast walking in the hotel bar you guys were in. Sebastian seen you looking at him and gave you a smile. You couldn’t help but blush.

“Sebastian is looking at you.” Your friend points out.

“He’s walking this way. What do I do?” You say like a teen girl who sees her crush in the hallway at school.

“Act normal.” Your friend says.

You tried your best to remain calm as your celebrity crush walked towards you guys.

“Hey, it’s the birthday girl.” Sebastian smiles at you. “You ladies mind if I steal your friend for a minute?” He asks.

“Go ahead. Don’t mind us.” One of your friends say.

“You guys can sit with the cast if you want.” He says, pointing at the table the cast is sitting at.

They nodded and left the table, making their way to where the cast was sitting.

“Does the birthday girl have a name?” Sebastian asks, taking a seat next to you.

“Y/N.” You tell him.

“That’s a beautiful name for a girl like you.” He says with a smile.

You were full on blushing now.

“You’re cute when you blush.” Sebastian smiles, making you blush even more. “I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.” He says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Friends? We’re going to be friends?” You asked, shocked and surprised that your celebrity crush wants to be your friend.

“Of course we are.” He gives you a flirty smile. “I already know you like me and I like you.” He says.

You didn’t know what to say. Your celebrity crush wants to be your friend. What are the odds?

“Wanna hangout with me and the cast?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes!” You said a little too fast.

Sebastian stood up and held his hand out for you. You almost immediately put your hand in his. He led you to the table where the cast is sitting and your friends are over there too. One of your friends was flirting with Chris Evans and he’s flirting back.

“Guys, this is Y/N.” Sebastian introduces you to them.

Everyone said hi to you as you sat down in the seat next to Sebastian.

“So Y/N…” Robert leans forward, putting his arms on the table.

“Besides the Winter Soldier here, who’s your second favorite?” He asks.

“Captain America.” You answered.

“Am I one of your favorites?” He asks curiously.

“You’re fourth after the Falcon.” You say with a smile.

“I’ll take it!” He says, leaning back in his chair and took a sip of his drink.

“Who’s fifth on that list?” Chris Evans asks.

“Black Widow.” You answered.

“I have a feeling we’re going to be best friends after today.” Scarlett says, smiling at you.

When the night was over, your friends were already in the hotel room. Sebastian, being the gentleman he is, walked you to your hotel room.

“If it’s ok with you, I’d like to see you again.” Sebastian says.

“That’s more than ok with me.” You say with a smile.

Sebastian took your phone from your hand and put his number in it. You did the same with his.

“I’ll text you tomorrow. Good morning, dragă.” He says softly.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he leaned in to kiss your cheek. You had a big smile on your face as you walked through the door of the hotel room.

“Well?!” Your friends say.

“He gave me his number and kissed my cheek.” You tell them.

That smile never left your face when you went to bed. You were definitely looking forward to is that text from Sebastian. Best birthday ever!

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[drakorn]

Rewriting Veilguard Part 1 - The World State

Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.

Expanding Veilguard's World State Editor

Like many of us, I was disappointed with the total amount of choices carrying over from past games being only three, one of which dealt with romance, two with decisions made in the Trespasser DLC, and all of them being from Inquisition. This already set the precedent that we shouldn’t really be expecting the game to be as connected to our unique Thedas as we have come to be used to from previous titles—no more uniquely flavoured codex entries, no more small but sweet cameos here and there that make the world itself feel like a larger place that we had helped shape.

Given The Veilguard’s very troubled production history of multiple delays, staff layoffs, and all-around restarts of the entire project, it is honestly a surprise that we even got three choices, so credit where credit is due. They made with what they had. But what if The Veilguard had this vision from the start? What if there wasn’t any of this meddling? What if Bioware simply had more time and control? What if they could truly let us import the World State this game deserved?

Now, for this hypothetical rewritten playthrough, I’m going off from the fact that the Dragon Age Keep will not be used; I actually found it a neat idea to tick my three choices in the character creator, and it would have probably been better had Inquisition done something similar. Why do I think that? Because it means we are not running into any dangers of servers potentially shutting down, leaving us trapped in the canon we happened to have imported last. Converting the Keep into an offline editor was a good idea, but unfortunately not executed nearly enough as, let’s face it, we all expected. So we’re gonna have some fun for Veilguard.

Disclaimer: I’m going to refer to the game’s title as Veilguard from now on, not “the” Veilguard. I really don’t like the change of having a “the” in a series of otherwise one-word, or one-number, titles.

Of course, we have to be realistic about this. It is virtually impossible to implement every single decision from across all three games, and those that can be implanted can’t alter the main plot too much. Certainly, we like to imagine and picture things, but let’s approach this from an actually doable point of view.

Right, so imagine you just finalised your Rook, and then get a screen titled “Past Adventures”. Not just “The Inquisition”. And it would take up the entire screen instead of being shoved somewhere in the corner of the final CC page, which many people missed. I could have missed it too, had I not known beforehand that it was going to be there!

It would say something akin to “You can customise the protagonists and several events from the games Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age II, and Dragon Age: Inquisition. These choices will have both major and minor effects on the plot of Veilguard. If this is your first Dragon Age title, you would be advised to skip this section for now, as you may otherwise risk getting overwhelmed. A default World State has been pre-generated for the game.”

Why did I add this disclaimer? Because it would show us, right from the get-go, that we respect both new and old players. If you’re a new player, feel free to skip this part as it won’t matter to you anyway and, quite frankly, you wouldn’t want to spend an eternity in the character creator doing things you might not even be familiar with. But if you’re a returning player or someone who has read up on recaps and watched countless lore videos, come on right in, we’ve got you covered, don’t worry! We know how much time you spent meticulously crafting your World State for Inquisition, so join us and customise to your heart’s content.

If you choose to not skip ahead (honestly the only time I would click “skip” on that shit is if I was a new player), you will be presented with three tarot cards, one shows the griffon, the Grey Warden symbol, one shows Kirkwall’s heraldry, and one shows the Inquisition’s banner. Here’s your previous three games. And now we get to customise them a little. The little gremlin in me would be quite gleefully rubbing his hands at this prospect.

Past Adventures: The Blight

We open the first slide and are immediately hit with a crimson screen and an ambient reprise of several of Inon Zur’s themes from DAO. I loved this part in the game, when you click to customise your Inquisitor and are immediately hit with “Calling the Inquisition”. Really great stuff for early emotions. Now let’s actually customise things.

The Hero of Ferelden

I do not expect us to actually be able to recreate the Warden in the flesh, but I believe they should be at least brought up in conversation or mentioned in codex entries and letters. Here are the things we get to customise about them specifically:

The Hero: Here, we get to tick the race, gender, class, and background for our Warden. Again, no character creator, just fancy tarot cards. But guess what? That would already be more than enough for what we can do. At least we know the game acknowledges their continued existence.

The Warden’s fate: Did the Hero of Ferelden perform the ultimate sacrifice?

Romance: Who did your Warden romance, if at all?

The Companions

Now that our Warden is set, we jump over to DAO’s companions. Each companion has their own little mini-section. The first few questions will always be “Did you even recruit them? And if so, did they survive? If so, were you on good terms or not?” These questions, depending on the answers, will immediately lock or open the more specific ones. Which are, as follows:

Did the Warden have Morrigan perform the Dark Ritual?

What is Alistair’s ultimate fate?

Was Sten reunited with his sword?

What happened to Loghain?

What happened to Marjorlaine?

The Battle of Ostagar

What happened to the prisoner at Ostagar?

The Arl of Redcliffe

What is Connor’s fate?

Is Isolde alive?

Did you help Bevin and return his sword?

The Urn of Sacred Ashes

What happened to the Urn?

The Nature of the Beast

How was the situation between the Dalish and the werewolves resolved?

A Paragon of Her Kind

What happened to the Anvil of the Void?

Who rules Orzammar?

Did the Warden help Brother Burkel create a Chantry in Orzammar?

Did the Warden prove the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house?

Did Orta join the Assembly?

Warden’s Keep

What happened to Sophia and Avernus?

Denerim

Did the Warden complete Slim Couldry’s crime wave?

Who rules Ferelden?

Who killed Urthemiel?

Awakening

What happened to Nathaniel?

What happened to the Architect?

What happened to Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine?

As you can see, I have not included all the choices, just the ones I think can be carried over in both realistic and interesting manners. Not all of them will heavily feature in the game; in fact, many of them are for flavour and codex entries only, but there is still merit in those. We know there is a whole lot of stuff happening in the South thanks to the letters the Inquisitor regales us with. So let’s put some world-state uniqueness to those letters. But in this rewrite, some of these choices will, in fact, feature in a more substantial manner.

And that’s Dragon Age: Origins done! Moving on to the next one!

Past Adventures: The Tale of the Champion

When we enter this screen, the CC assumes Kirkwall’s orangey-yellow tone and we get a reprisal of the key DA2 themes by Inon Zur, the most prominent one being, of course, Hawke’s family theme. This one is not going to be as big as DAO, but there are a few important factors nevertheless, especially concerning possible deaths and survivals.

The Champion of Kirkwall

Unlike the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke will actually be customisable in this one. Because no matter whether or not they were sent to the Fade or Weisshaupt, there is always the potential for them to still be alive. So, here are the choices regarding Hawke:

The Champion: Here you can customise Hawke’s gender, class, and personality.

Who did Hawke romance, if at all?

The Party

Pretty much every companion’s card, aside from a few, will have the questions “Did you recruit them?”, “Are they still alive?”, and “Were they friend or rival to Hawke?” at the forefront. Most of it is gonna be flavour, but it’s still my flavour, dammit!

What happened to Bethany or Carver?

What happened to Isabela and the Tome of Koslun?

What happened to Fenris and Danarius?

What happened to Merrill, her eluvian, and Clan Sabrae?

What happened to Bartrand?

What happened to Anders when the Chantry exploded?

Did Hawke approve of Anders' actions?

Did Aveline marry Donnic?

The Tale of the Champion

Did Hawke protect the Bone Pit from all its dangers?

What happened to Feynriel?

Did Hawke let Zevran go?

Did Nathaniel survive?

Did Hawke side with the mages or the templars?

Fewer choices are carrying over here compared to DAO, but many of the events that occurred in DA2 are only relevant to Kirkwall’s immediate fate, which is already resolved by the time of DAI. Many of these will be flavour again, but some of them, I’m not going to say which, will definitely have a bigger impact.

Right, we’re done with DA2, let’s move on to the last one!

Past Adventures: The Inquisition

And here we get to the big one, the game that most directly impacts much of DAV’s story. We click on the last page and get the green shades and DAI’s ambience themes, a beautiful reprisal of Trevor Morris’ great hits. I would like to once again reiterate how emotional the CC music made me feel here when I was playing the game. Let us now customise our choices.

The Inquisitor

While the Hero of Ferelden will be a background figure in letters and codex entries, and Hawke more of a minor character with a significant role, the Inquisitor will have a much larger presence. Just how large, you’ll find out soon. But for now, let’s customise them:

The Inquisitor: Here you can customise your Inquisitor’s race, gender, class, and specialisation. Their personality as well, for while it wasn’t as apparent as with Hawke, the Inquisitor does still have a distinct range of dialogue choices. You can still be diplomatic, lighthearted, or even rough.

Who did the Inquisitor romance, if at all?

The Inner Circle

As with the other companion sections, pretty much all slides here will feature the “Did you actually recruit them?”, “Are they still around?”, and “Are you friends or not?” questions. Alongside a few specific ones that will definitely have more of an impact here.

Did Dorian resolve the issue with his father?

What happened to Blackwall?

Did the Iron Bull remain loyal to the Qun?

Did Cassandra rebuild the Seekers of Truth?

Did Cassandra discover the book of secrets and what did she do with it?

What happened to Harmond?

Which path did Cole choose?

What happened to Solas’ friend?

Did Varric track down the red lyrium source?

Did the Inquisitor give Vivienne the heart of a snow wyvern?

How was Cullen’s lyrium dilemma resolved?

How did the Inquisitor help Josephine resolve her family’s fortunes?

Was Leliana hardened or softened?

The Path of the Inquisitor

Did the Inquisitor embrace or denounce their title of Herald of Andraste?

Did the Inquisition side with the mages or the templars?

What was the general principle upon which the Inquisition was founded?

Who rules Orlais?

Who stayed behind in the Fade?

What happened to the Grey Wardens after Adamant Fortress?

What happened to Samson or Calpernia?

Who drank from the Well of Sorrows?

Did the Inquisitor respect the rituals at the Temple of Mythal?

Who became Divine Victoria?

The Inquisition’s Influence

Did the Inquisitor ally with the Hinterland cultists?

Was the rift in Crestwood closed?

Was Caer Bronach captured?

Did the Inquisitor make a deal with Imshael?

Was Suledin Keep captured?

Was Griffon Wing Keep captured?

Was Sutherland’s company formed?

What tone did the Inquisitor’s judgments take?

Jaws of Hakkon

Did the Inquisitor learn Ameridan’s fate?

Was Hakkon slain?

Did the Inquisitor share the truth about Ameridan?

The Descent

Did the Inquisitor stop the earthquakes from destroying the Deep Roads?

Trespasser

What is the ultimate fate of the Inquisition?

What is the Inquisitor’s final goal regarding Solas?

Again, this looks like a lot, and it is, but bear in mind that a lot of these will only have minor impacts on the story in the form of cameos and codex entries. However, there are several major DAI choices that will have significant impact.

For our hypothetical rewrite, I shall not list every single choice I made for my imaginary playthrough. Instead, I shall reveal them as we go along so as not to clutter the space too much. And it’s a bit more fun this way.

And that’s the World State editor finally done! I believe all of these choices are able to feature in some capacity, be it big or small. But no matter if it’s a big world-changing consequence or simple flavour texts and cameos, it will still be our Thedas, our own unique version of it that we helped shape.

Now that the past is dealt with, let’s look at the present. Next time we’ll talk about Rook, the six factions, and why a DAO-style origin story selection would have not only been beneficial but very doable.

Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons

[ghoulangerlee]

2025 GHOST FANDOM MINI BANG 

As the holidays close and the year finishes out, it's now time to begin our long form winter project that should see us through to the spring!

Click Here for the form! 

Contact me via email @ ghostminibang2025@gmail.com  Tumblr @ ghoulangerlee

Starting now, all posts regarding the mini bang will be tagged #ghost minibang 2025

To keep this from clogging dashes, please click read more for more information and details (including dates and specifications for the works)!

A few things:  

You’ll notice on this form that it’s pretty basic, generic—this is gathering information for both writers and artists! Once I have this information, I’ll export it to an excel spreadsheet and from there, anyone who signed up as a writer will receive an email by no later than 6 JANUARY 2025 

In that email, I’ll ask for a basic breakdown of the fic that you’re writing, including a brief summary, pairing, rating and 3 key points you’ll want to touch on during that fic.  

Once you sign up, you are free to start on this fic—however that may be, with an outline or just outright writing it.  

Artists, on 13 JANUARY 2025 you’ll receive a link to a sign-up sheet with the information I’ve collected from the writers, there will be NO names included with this information, so you’ll be picking based on the summary, pairing, rating and key points.    

Once picking has closed, you’ll receive an email with you and your partner included, this will be a brief introduction email giving you a way to contact your partner. From there it is up to you to make contact with the person you’re working with. If you haven’t heard from your partner in 10 days, please contact me and I’ll reach out to them for you.  

There will be a couple of check ins on 15 FEBRUARY 2025 and 10 MARCH 2025 these are just to gauge where you are and if you’re needing an extension! Be truthful and don’t let this bog you down, I’m here for you!  

Once we reach the end of the writing/art period, you’ll receive another email with posting dates! Depending on how many people sign up, we may spread this over the span of a few weeks! You’ll pick a day from the ones listed and in agreement with your partner, you’ll post your works! As long as it’s during your timezone of the day you chose, that’s all that matters!  

There’s an AO3 collection for this! But feel free to also post and share on tumblr! Comments and reblogs will be doled out for everyone!  

You’ll notice on the signup sheet that there’s an option for Pinch Hitter (Artist)/Pinch Hitter (Writer), please only select that if you are comfortable pitching in if an Artist or Writer drops out and leaves someone without a partner! This means you will most likely write more than one fic or create multiple pieces!  

A few more details:  

Writers: Your fic must be at the minimum 5k but you can always write more!  

Artists: There must be at least 2 accompanying pieces of art for the fic you’ve chosen! This can include things like banners, scene breaks, traditional art, digital art, manips, mood boards, etc!   

GENERAL RULES AND FAQ 

This event is 18+, and as such, you must have your age in your bio somewhere, whether it be an exact one or an age range.  

We are all adults here and we’re here to have fun in our little fandom. If something happens and you need mediation, please reach out to me either by email, tumblr DM or discord.  

Do not under any circumstance knowingly engage with content you do not like; this includes purposefully picking a fic idea you do not like specifically to spread hate about the creator. If you are found doing this, you will be kicked from the mini bang. This also extends to bullying in public spaces i.e discord or tumblr.  

Beta reading is not required for this event, but feel free to have someone read over it if you’d like! Your artist (if they have time), a friend you usually ask to beta read your work. Unless there’s a need, I don’t think there’ll be any beta reader signups for this one, but if anyone would like to be put on a list of people to reach out to if a writer needs someone to look their fic over, then let me know!  

Have fun! If at any point in time you feel like you’re running out of time/you’re not going to finish by the deadline, then reach out to me and we’ll set up an extension! This isn’t a college essay; there’s no penalty for posting past the due date.  

I’d rather extend this for half the year than ever make someone feel like they’re being rushed to complete something for a hobby! 

Other than that, I think I’ve covered all the bases, but please feel free to reach out with any questions! I can’t wait to see what you guys create with us!  

[notjustjavierpena]

Where I'm Supposed To Be, a husband!Javier Christmas fic

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Here’s my Christmas present for you all. I wrote this with blood, sweat and tears. I love you. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful opportunity to make myself, and everyone who reads my work, happy due to a silly, little, fictional family. Thanks to @javiscigarette and @joels-shitty-puns for being amazing and caring ❤️ and obviously thank you @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being my sweet Spanish tutor 😭🙏

Summary: Just Christmas morning with the Peñas. Lots of chaotic and sweet children but also some alone time between you and your husband who very much has a present for you this morning.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, domestic life, three children being cute, unwrapping of gifts on Christmas morning, dancing to the radio, butterflies, being courted by javi, some rough pussy eating (javi is a cunning linguist and a fucking menace), nose riding, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praises and pet names, rough sex, kitchen sex, lactation kink, tit play, bit of breeding kink. creampie, they are gross and in love, absolutely married to each other

Word count: 7.1k!!!!!

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52364101

Where I’m Supposed To Be

Your eyes open wide as soon as you feel the weight of two children in your bed, and the realization of what day it is comes to mind. Since you are lying on your side, facing your husband, you watch the same shock settle in him as his own slumber is interrupted. Javier is lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow tightly, and when Inés starts jumping up and down at the foot of the bed, he shoots up to look around with a confused expression. You smile as he catches your eye. He yawns back at you. 

“Wake up! Wake up!” Inés’ squeaky voice announces. She sounds out of breath from jumping continuously, “It’s Christmas!”

The whole bed shakes. Lucas has joined in on the jumping, a contrast to his usually so well-behaved and calm manner, but you remember the magic excitement that Christmas brought along when you were a kid yourself. 

You yawn loudly to tease, turning onto your back. Inés barely survives the way you drag out waking up properly.

“Alright!” You sit up in bed with a little smile, letting your hands come down on top of the covers, “We’re up.”

“I’m not,” Javier grumbles into his pillow. Inés takes it as an opportunity to jump on her father’s back, sitting down on him with a knee on either side of his torso. You can hear the air being knocked from Javier’s lungs and can’t help but smile fully now, fighting a belly laugh as your insistent daughter starts tugging at his hair and shoulders.

“Come on, Mom!” Lucas begs too but without bordering on violence. He grabs at your hand to pull it, and you throw the covers to the side to let him lead you out of bed. 

“I’m coming, mijo (my son),” you say and slip on a t-shirt that you have laid out the day before; there’s been a fair amount of Christmas mornings at this point but with Inés getting older, and thus more steadfast in her personality, you have resorted to creating a system that you hope neither of your kids has realized exists. 

When Inés sees you out of bed, she quickly abandons her father at the realization of your willingness. Javier takes in a deep breath as he loses her weight on top of himself, imitating the sound of someone falling asleep again. You’ll let him for now; after all, he’s been the one up all night to arrange the presents so it looks like Santa came to visit. 

“I have to check on Seb first,” you inform their hopeful faces. Inés groans and even Lucas looks like he might join in but you don’t give in to being rushed, simply shrugging, “If you are quiet, he won’t wake up and it’ll be quicker.”

You grab the baby monitor from your nightstand and then your kids follow you down the hallway of family photos to Sebastian’s nursery. Your baby is sleeping soundly when all three of you enter ever so quietly, a sign of contentment and feeling safe, and you don’t dare reach out to touch him in case he is disturbed from his sleep, even despite him being the easiest one of all three, so often off to dreamland that you have had Javier needing to reassure you.

You stare down at Sebastian for a few moments. He has his arms above his head, hands squeezed into fists and his little mouth slightly agape. You can feel yourself being overcome with emotion as both Lucas and Inés observe their little brother’s slumber with you, and with such understanding in their eyes that you wish you could take a picture of them. They have all of their hands clutched around the railing of the crib to peek down at the baby. 

“Mom,” Lucas whispers without taking his eyes off Sebastian, “Can we please go see our presents?”

“Pleeeeease,” Inés follows.

“Okaaaay, let’s go,” you whisper back.

You leave the bedroom with the baby monitor in your hand and Inés hand clutched in your other, only to hold her in place in case she wants to run down the stairs. 

Both your kids’ eyes go wide as they enter the living room. There are several differently sized and shaped presents underneath the lit-up Christmas tree, sporting extravagant bows and wrapping paper designs. You know that none of them are for you but you’ll relish in your children’s faces as they run towards the pile. 

“Steady now,” you say as you place the baby monitor on the coffee table, “Everything has led up to this, I know, but we don’t want it to be over in a few minutes, do we? Let’s do one at a t—“

“But Santa’s been!” Inés shrieks in delight. Lucas looks at you, only seven years old and not convinced, and you wink at him only to receive a little smile. He looks pleased with himself, sharing a secret with his mother.

“Really? How do you know he has?” You say animatedly. It’s obvious, she tells you, look at the presents, but you distract her from ripping each of them open by walking up to gape at the empty plate and glass that are on the coffee table, gasping for show as if to imitate your daughter, “Inés! You’re right! Look!”

Inés whips around, darting towards you. She stares in shock. Lucas seems a little impatient, hovering around a big present that is for him, so you hold out your hand and call him over to look at the Santa-evidence too. 

He walks around the coffee table to lean against you instead, and you rest a hand on the back of his neck. You gently run your fingers through his hair, whispering to him as Inés lifts the plate to look underneath it.

“You’re the best big brother, sweetie,” you mutter and repeat the move, smoothing his bed hair. He leans into you further. 

“Look! All gone!” Inés parrots as she stares at the cookies that are nowhere to be found. Neither on or under the plate. 

Lucas still doesn’t look very convinced. In the future, you’ll tell him about the sugary kiss his father planted on your cheek when crawling into bed after eating cookies and drinking milk at three in the morning - and his preteen self will crinkle his nose in disgust.

Speaking of your husband, Javier enters the living room silently so as to not disturb Inés’ hunt for clues. He has put on a t-shirt that hangs over his boxers, looking beautifully disheveled, and you smile like a schoolgirl when he looks at you happily. 

“Is there anything else? Did he just leave behind all those great big presents?” You still talk excitedly, grinning as your daughter’s eyes scan the floor and ceiling. 

She continues to the fireplace, pointing out the small amount of soot mixed with glitter that you’ve spread out on the wooden floor, “He’s been! Look, Mommy!”

“Wow!” Javier now chimes in. Inés recognises his voice instantly and she runs to her father the second that she hears him. Javier picks her up from the ground with the groan of a father to settle her on his hip. He kisses her cheek repeatedly until he blows a raspberry, “He did all that for you?” 

Inés giggles like only a child can. You want to melt. She claps excitedly, “All for me.”

“You must’ve been very good this year, mija (my daughter),” he says, ruffling her already messy hair. She shies away from it but throws her arms around his neck as soon as he has stopped, burying her head in his shoulder. 

Lucas shifts impatiently but he doesn’t say anything. 

“You want to open a present?” You whisper to him. 

“Can I?” He whispers back with wide eyes.

“They still have a few clues to go through, outside even,” you crouch down to kiss his cheek from behind, hugging him close to you, “If you want to, I’ll let you. I’ll choose though.”

In the background, Javier catches on. He places Inés back down on the floor, holding out his hand for her and winking at his son whilst talking to his daughter, “Do you want to see if Rudolph ate the carrots you laid out for him on the doorstep?”

Inés, completely ignoring the offered hand, starts running towards the front door whilst naming other reindeer too. It’s Texan Christmas, so there’s no point in putting on a jacket for going outside, and the sudden silence of the front door closing behind her and Javier makes you strike.

You let go of Lucas to get his present from under the tree, searching only briefly as if you’re choosing something random. There’s a point to this but you don’t want to take out the magic of the moment.

Lucas sits down on the floor as he is handed the gift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear its wrappings off, and when he throws it to the side, he gasps at the sight of his very own brand new Game Boy that you have wrapped along with a few games. It’s a strategic move to let him open it now; Inés won’t try to steal it in the middle of Christmas family time if she isn’t aware of him getting it. 

“No way!” Lucas’ eyes are wide. He holds the Game Boy in its packaging in front of himself, not taking his eyes off of it in case it might disappear if he looks away, “Mom!”

“It’s the one you wanted, right?” You ask, rubbing his back and looking down at the cover over his shoulder, “Lord knows if I have a clue about what it does.”

“This is so cool,” he says, mostly to himself, and then looks up at you with a wide grin that reminds you that he is his father’s son, “Thanks, Mom!” 

“But I need you to wait to use it till after Inés is done with her presents, okay? I know you’re excited but you’ll have the whole day, no?”

“Entiendo, (I understand),” he nods, getting up from the floor very carefully as he still has the Game Boy in his hands, “¿ Lo tengo que compartir? (do I have to share it?)

“You might have to share it sometimes but it’s yours first and foremost,” you say with a little smile, “I think Inés might just want to see you play and then you can let her try it a few times. If it’s too much, we’ll figure something out.”

Lucas hugs you then, tightly and lovingly. He buries his head in your stomach and he doesn’t have to say anything because you know exactly what he wants to say with his embrace. It’s enough to make you choke up a second time today. 

When Javier and Inés return back inside the living room, Inés talking loudly, Javier gets a pair of scissors and a bag for the wrappings from the kitchen. You quickly add Lucas’ gift wrap to it to conceal any evidence of having started without Inés.

“Mom! Rudolph ate the carrots we laid out!” She beams. 

“He didn’t!” You walk up to her to make it seem like you are listening even more actively. You lean down over her with your hands on your thighs, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you bend over, “Oh boy, I’m glad you remembered to feed them so Santa could reach all the kids without them getting tired and hungry.”

“Can we open presents now?” She inquires, falling to her knees in front of the Christmas tree. She looks back at you, suddenly very serious, “Are there any presents for Sebastian?” 

“Yes, Sebastian has a few presents too,” you reply.

It takes her a moment to think this fact over. She furrows her brow in concentration, going over the logistics of an infant opening Christmas gifts. Eventually, she stares at you and places a hand on her chest, “I— I will open Sebastian’s presents.”

You want to laugh and in the background, Javier actually does, “You can help Lucas open the presents for him.”

Lucas sits on the floor beside Inés but closer to the tree. He seems less anxious to begin now that he’s had a head start on his little sister so he reaches under the tree to find a present with her name on it, checking in with his father who nods and lets him proceed.

Inés eyes go wide as the gift is put down on the floor in front of her, and Javier moves to help her with cutting the ribbon. You take a seat on the couch to watch the scene unfold, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement as receives her first Christmas gift; a stuffed toy resembling a dinosaur that she keeps tucked under her arm during the whole thing. 

The rest of the unwrapping session goes with you letting out a series of oohs and aahs as each toy, which you have picked out yourself at the toy store, is revealed. It’s all a blur of plastic and noises, cries for batteries and Javier shushing his daughter when her pitch climbs a little too high. 

Lucas is in charge of handing out gifts, and you praise him for each card that he reads out loud successfully. Whenever he tries reaching for a certain gift for Inés, Javier shakes his head, and he moves on to the next despite the curiosity nearly killing him. 

Steadily, both Inés and Lucas each have a growing pile of toys, clothes, and snacks beside them. 

Lucas receives, amongst other things, a pair of light-up shoes that he has begged for months to get. He also gets a wooden tow truck with four magnetic cars and an unbelievable stack of Pokemon cards. 

Inés gets a few puzzles, markers, a microphone that makes an echo when you speak into it (a toy that might just disappear out of the blue with no explanation), and a collection of animal stickers. 

Lucas looks overwhelmed by the end. Inés looks far from done, so she is the one who gets to unwrap Sebastian’s new mobile with small UFOs and cows on it, a pair of cute shoes, and a hat to match.

Finally, Lucas gets the green light from his father to grab the mysterious present. He looks like someone who wants to tear off the paper so he can satisfy his curiosity but Inés is already beating him to it. There’s an anticipation of it being the final stages of the unwrapping process that hangs in the air, and everything is going well until your daughter crinkles her nose at the sight of what she has received from Santa.

“Mom,” she starts to say, cogs turning in her head. She turns to you, looking skeptical. Inside the package is a helmet, more specifically a bike helmet, in a soft green color with daisies painted onto it in a pattern not too harsh on the eyes. 

Lucas catches on a little quicker, “She’s getting a bike?!”

“A bike!” Inés yells out, standing up quickly, “Where? Wherewherewhere?”

“Inés, por favor (please),” you can’t help but laugh at her excited shock, “Let Papá get it for you.”

And moments later, Javier wheels a bike, so tiny that it is cute, into the living room. Its color matches the green on her new helmet, and on the handles hang white tassels with yellow flecks of glitter in them. The also has training wheels on it but with the amount of unrelenting bravery and determination that Inés has for new things, you doubt that she will be needing them for long.

Inés has gone quiet as she stares at her new bicycle which is very much not like the one without pedals she has. She gapes at it and it makes you and Javier exchange looks. Javier shrugs.

“Inés,” you start but you are interrupted by your daughter’s infectious laughter. She jumps on the spot, yanking at the handle and pulling it towards herself. You let out a sigh of relief, warmth flooding your heart at hearing her.

“I want to try it now!” She demands, giggling happily as she runs her hands through the tassels. 

“We can do it after breakfast, Daddy will take you out for a test drive,” you say, getting up from the couch to crouch down beside her. You admire the bike with her, continuing your reasoning when she starts to protest, “One should never try to learn how to ride a bike without having breakfast. Not even the coolest girls can do that.”

“I can!” She argues. In the background, Lucas turns his back to the three of you to sneak a peek at his Game Boy. 

“Actually, mija (my daughter),” Javier interjects. He opens the box containing the biking helmet, pulls it out, and walks over to his daughter, “Bike racers need to try out their helmets for at least an hour or two to break them in and to make sure they fit. Imagine if you got onto the bike and your helmet wouldn’t let you ride it.”

Inés furrows her brow but doesn’t look like she’s about to argue with her father’s logic. She glances at the bike and then at the helmet in Javier’s hands, quickly coming to a decision.

“I want to wear the helmet!” She says. 

“Excellent choice,” he replies and you snort.

Inés proudly wears the helmet a few seconds later. You wonder how you are going to get her dressed for going outside with it on her head but you suppose you’ll pass the task to Javier.

“Wait,” Lucas says suddenly, crawling underneath the tree to reach far underneath it. A small present rests along the foot of the tree, and he pulls it out only to find that there’s no card on it. He furrows his brow, “There’s one left.”

Inés looks nearly hungry for more.

Javier turns, obviously not expecting this.

“Actually,” you say and make Lucas hand it over. Holding the gift close to your chest, you walk up to Javier, “This one is for Daddy.” 

“Me?” Javier looks puzzled but then he smirks, as if he has decided something that you aren’t a part of yet. You feel your heart skip a beat as all three of you catch onto the mischief in his eyes. If only you knew that mischief is just for you. He snatches the present from you and shakes it. 

“It’s just something silly,” you say, “But it’s for work!”

Inés and Lucas are watching curiously, standing on their toes so they don’t miss anything. 

“Rip it, Dad,” Lucas encourages.

“Yeah!” Inés chimes in, holding onto her helmet as she tips her head. You’ll have to adjust it.

“Alright, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” he does as he is told, letting the wrapping paper fall into a pile on the floor, beside the garbage bag that he has brought himself, and reveals a hideous, rolled-up tie with a Christmas theme. It is dark red with tiny cartoon Christmas lights and trees, crisscrossing across the silky fabric. It’s ugly, for sure, but it makes Javier’s face light up like he can’t quite believe that he has reached this destination; a life of kids and silly Christmas presents, and exactly where he is supposed to be.

“That’s boring!” Inés complains. 

“Mija (My daughter), that’s not very nice,” Javi tuts, smoothing a thumb over his present. He grins boyishly at you, and when he approaches you, he wraps an arm around your waist to give you a squeeze, “I love it.”

“You don’t have to wear it,” you reassure.

“I might just. The guys know I’m happily married to a catch like you so why shouldn’t I show it off?” He holds it up in front of himself, “How do I look?”

“Silly,” Inés argues. Lucas grimaces behind her.

You raise a brow, biting your lower lip as you grin, “You wouldn’t.”

“Sí. Gracias, mi amor (yes. Thank you, my love),” he kisses you in front of your kids, and both of them make disgusted faces. Inés even adds a gagging noise, saying something about cooties. 

Javier doesn’t let go of you when he turns his head towards them. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “Hey, you behave or I might do it again.”

“No!” They shout in unison.

“I should’ve gotten you something,” Javier says as he turns towards you again. You shake your head but then you feel his hand on your back travel down, “Maybe later.”

Quickly, you pull back. 

“Right,” you say, clasping your hands together and trying not to sound flustered, “Let’s say two hours tops. Then we’ll have breakfast together. Hot chocolate and all.”

When the gift rush comes to an end, Javier starts carrying all of the shiny new toys upstairs with a groan. He scolds gently as he has two tiny and enthusiastic humans bounding up the stairs, telling them to be careful. 

Meanwhile, you head to the kitchen and turn on the radio. You place the baby monitor on the counter, humming along as you prepare a sugary breakfast that you always regret afterward when you have to endure two sugar-high children. 

As you are toasting bread and filling bowls with candy canes and marshmallows, Javier enters the kitchen. You smile to yourself as he wraps his arms around you from behind, placing a kiss on your neck, “Morning. I put a movie on, so they’ll be occupied by that and their presents for a while now. Checked on Seb too, he’s fine.”

“That went well,” you say genuinely, “Don’t you think?”

“Mhm, the unwrapping? Definitely,” he murmurs against your ear, resting his forehead on your shoulder, “They didn’t even notice how I was staring at you.”

“How were you staring at me?” You ask, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“No particular way,” he teases and you try to concentrate on cutting fruit into smaller pieces. 

In the background, a slow melody hums through the kitchen. Javier’s hands wander down to settle on your hips, and you finally allow yourself to let go of the knife, give in, and turn around in his arms. 

“Merry Christmas,” you smile.

“Dance with me,” he replies. 

You walk further into his embrace, linking your arm around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. He entwines your fingers and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb as he sways with you in time with the song on the radio. 

As he moves you, your heads lean together, cheeks touching gently, and he radiates warmth and security. It makes you close your eyes and sigh softly, allowing yourself to be transported into a fantasy where you aren’t just wearing your underwear and a washed-out t-shirt. 

The hand that isn’t holding yours rests on your lower back, pulling you in after he twirls you once. You giggle when he beams at you but then you resume the first position, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, slowly turning, whilst Javier’s mouth rests just below your temple. 

And then you feel his nose brush against the side of your face as if he is starting to pull away, and a desperate voice inside of you wants to protest but the logical one tells you to go with the flow. The tip of his nose is warm even against your flushing skin, and by instinct, you pull away slightly to admire the gorgeous curve of it up close. Javier interrupts by kissing you instead. He captures your lips in the most drawn-out hot kiss, pouring with desire and devotion. 

“Tell me you love me like I love you,” you plea breathlessly. 

“I love you like you love me,” he tells you without hesitation, squeezing your hand, “Y  les quiero a Lucas y Inés y Sebastian (and I love Lucas and Inés and Sebastian).”

You respond by kissing him again, just about to slide your tongue across his lips and into his mouth when the song ends. 

He reluctantly lets go of you. However, instead of helping you cook breakfast, he starts moving things from one side of the kitchen table to the other; out of your reach. 

“Javi, what are you doing?” You start to protest.

“Let’s make another,” he suddenly says.

“Another?” You furrow your brow in confusion.

“A fourth one,” he explains as he stands in front of you, making you bump into the counter, “Un bebito (a little baby). Right now.” 

“Jesus, Javi,” you can feel his fingers dig into the waistband of your underwear. Blood goes to your core incredibly fast, “Sebastian is four months old.”

“If we start trying now…” His fingers start dragging the fabric down over your ass and thighs, “We’ll have one by next Christmas.”

“We can’t go at it right here,” you scold but don’t try to stop him. Instead, you step out of your underwear as they pool around your feet. 

“I told you,” he reminds you, already sinking to his knees with a self-satisfied look on his face, “That I put on a movie. They won’t even hear you.”

You lean your ass against the counter and then dare to hook a leg over his shoulder whilst balancing on the other. One hand grips the edge of the counter and the other rests on top of his hair, fingers threading through it as you wait patiently for him to put his mouth on you. 

“This your present then?” You tease him, yanking to make him look up at you.

“I think we’re both getting too much out of it to call it your present,” he points out. His eyes go down to stare right between your thighs and you find yourself clenching around nothing as arousal threatens to drip down your thighs, “Joder (fuck), look at you. Can I have it now?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. Your teasing has ceased after hearing him swear from just watching your quivering pussy. You swallow thickly, a breath hitching in your throat as Javier’s hand slides up the back of the leg you are standing on until it rests on the back of your thigh. He squeezes and you hold your breath, “Please.” 

He looks up at you through his lashes, no mischief to be found but rather absolute worship, as he closes his mouth around you, velvety tongue sliding between your folds to lap at your clit. You tighten the grip on his hair as heat flows through your lower body, your mouth falling open in a soft gasp. 

“I can’t stand still,” you half-laugh whilst he eats you. Each pulse of your heart can be felt in your clit, which he sucks and laps at until you can’t breathe. He knows how to make you come so fast that blood drains from your head to your cunt and thighs and makes you keen.

“Then don’t, mi amor (my love),” he says matter-of-factly as he pulls back to breathe, hair a mess and chin shiny with your slick, “Fuck yourself onto me, Momma, I know you love that.”

You instantly curl your toes at the suggestion. Javier dives back in, lowers his head slightly to tease your slit with the tip of his filthy tongue. God, the way he can roll those Rs, calling you his love in his mother tongue, translates so well into this. Coming on his face from your own doing? Yes, that’s exactly what you want. 

Without thinking it over much more, you tighten the leg that you slung over Javier’s shoulder earlier around him. With a hand in his hair and the other one tightly around the edge of the kitchen table, you move until Javier’s tongue is sliding inside of you and his nose catches your clit. It sends pleasure rocking down your spine, your pulse spiking instantly as you start working yourself toward orgasm.

“Fuck,” you groan while moving on him, rolling your hips. Your balance is off like this but Javier slides the hand on your thigh up to splay his palm across your side. You lean your body’s weight into his hand and use the support to press harder into his nose, feeling the flutters of an orgasm approaching as the curve of it slides up and down your clit just as you would do it if you were touching yourself, “I’m gonna- ah, gonna come. Fuck, you make me come so hard! Ah–”

Javier makes a satisfied noise against you, stiffening his tongue to let you use it even more. You don’t even need to have him speaking, know that he would tell you to give it to me, and when you finally tip over the edge, you feel him pulling your hand from the kitchen table to entwine your fingers. 

“Fuck, Javi, fuckfuckfuck, baby, don’t stop,” you pant, squeezing his hand so hard that a fleeting thought makes you worry if you might break bone. You ride his tongue, his nose, and come so hard that you make him whimper as you pull at his hair. 

He doesn’t let you go when it dies down. Instead, he slowly rises from the floor and lifts you along with him due to your leg still being slung over his shoulder and back. His mouth doesn’t leave you, even when he falters briefly, as he settles you down on the counter. 

You want to scream but even a movie cannot drown out the noise building in your throat, so you cover your mouth with your free hand. Something besides you falls over, you knock your head into the kitchen cabinets and whereas Javier would’ve checked in on you, he eats your cunt so enthusiastically that you can feel your body wanting to come again.

The whine you let out is sinful with how much you struggle to muffle it. You reach for Javier’s hair but he catches your wrist and pins it down against the tabletop. When you try to reach for it again, this time with your other hand, he does the same until you can’t take the slightest bit of control. 

He makes you come again in less than a minute. It is earth-shattering, causing you to throw your head back and bump it into the cabinet once more. You thrash and cry, burning with pleasure as he hollows his cheeks from sucking your clit.

You start giggling from the dopamine, knowing it’s a better way to get out noise than crying for him. Your legs twitch as he devours the wetness you spill into his mouth.

Finally, he removes his mouth from your sticky mess of a cunt and kisses up under your loose t-shirt until you can’t see his face anymore. He smears your slick across your belly, resting his head just above your belly button, and chuckles. 

“You’re so,” you begin but you don’t know how to finish the sentence. He lets you move your hands again and you proceed to pet the top of his head through the fabric of your shirt.

“Sexy? Devoted? ¿Loco por ti (crazy about you)?” His breathing is uneven.

“I was going to call you a goof,” you correct him, lifting the shirt up to reveal him again. When he lifts his head to roll his eyes at you, you use the hem of your shirt to wipe his mouth and thus make him grimace. 

“What a mom-move,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you laugh.

“I did mean it,” he adds, stretching and placing a palm on the counter on either side of your body, “I’ll cut down on work. I’ll be home more with you and the kids. Just until everything falls into place. We could get a babysitter.”

“Javi—“ 

“I think it could work,” he interrupts, “And if we want any more - kids, I mean - I feel like we should do it now and not wait.”

“Javi,” you reach up to cup his face gently. There’s no need for this conversation now, and there’s no doubt that you want to give him many more children if he wants. Technicalities can be discussed further down the road, and Inés is somewhat already counting for two kids so how should you not be able to handle a fourth? You kiss his lips, keeping your noses touching when you pull back again, “Just fuck me, baby. We can talk about it later.”

“Right,” he blinks his puppy eyes away.

You hungrily watch him pull his cock free from his boxers before stepping between your legs which you wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and moving yourself forward to the edge of the kitchen table. You are itching to feel him inside of you, your body feeling like it is missing something after going this long since you started to feel turned on. 

“Please,” you whine. 

“Relax,” he orders simply as he aligns his hips with yours. The sweet voice from before is gone and there’s no doubt that he’ll start speaking filth soon. You obey and go back to leaning against the cabinets, eyes half-lidded with lust as he runs the head of his cock through your folds in a way that has you whimpering with how sensitive you are.

When you get impatient, you reach down to guide the tip where you want it and shudder as he dips inside of you. He holds your gaze but as you want to look down at where the two of you are connected, he reaches for your chin with a shaky hand. You pant, eyes looking up as he forces your head up again. 

“That’s it,” he praises, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger while moving forward and pushing into you. Your brows furrow at the stretch of your sensitive cunt but you still manage to hold his gaze despite wanting to close your eyes, and it earns you another praise, “Good girl, thaaat’s it, you focus on me, focus right here.”

When you smile sweetly at his words, he starts moving inside of you. The first roll of his hips makes your mind go blank and your noises climb in pitch. He fucks you against the counter, broad hands sliding up the back of your thighs to rest against the small of your back. It’s relentless, it’s desperate and it’s incredibly hot.

You settle your hands on his biceps, holding on for dear life as he thrusts hard enough to make your touching skin smack with each movement. You look up at the ceiling briefly, wondering if the moans you are letting out can be heard by your kids because Javier’s cock is hitting something inside of you that makes you want to sob. 

“El ruido (the noise)— shit, d-don’t worry about it,” Javier notices your mind drifting to concern, and so he slows down slightly to catch your attention. He kisses your lips between each word and drinks each noise you make from your mouth, “You sound so beautiful for me, amor. Forget about them, they’re fine.”

You nod repeatedly, whining feeble okays when he goes back to the harder thrusts from before, making you grab at his muscles until it’s not enough anymore and you have to dig your nails into them. His harshness makes your full tits bounce underneath the t-shirt too, and you let them until you know what’s coming; the happy chemicals in your body provoke it so often this time around. 

You cover your breasts with your palms and squeeze until you feel your pussy flutter, somehow creating a direct line to your pulsing, untouched clit. You follow it up by tugging slightly on your nipples too, all the while you repeat Javier’s name as if to get his attention, as if to say it in prayer. His gaze drops and his eyes nearly roll back into his skull as you start soaking through your shirt with milk. 

“You filthy girl,” he growls, “Pull it up for me. Lemme see.”

“Fuck, I— I think I’m close,” you half-moan and half-giggle, yanking your t-shirt up and watching the steady trickle of your milk. The way that Javier watches makes your cunt want to pull him in further but you don’t think he can go any deeper, so instead you hold him tightly with your legs so he can only grind roughly into you. 

Your stomach flips as Javier’s expert tongue laps at a trail of milk. He sucks along the streak it has already made until he can close his lips, swollen from kisses, around your nipple. When he sucks, you almost cry for your maker and you swear that you can hear how much wetter you get. 

“Where was this for my cookies last night, huh, Momma?” He asks with milk-stained lips and a smirk, cock touching inside of you just how you want it. 

“You’re so - fuck, baby, I’m gonna come soon - you’re so gross,” your eyes close, your belly tightens and so you concentrate to get there, “What wouldn’t Santa think? Cookies and breast milk?”

Javier laughs genuinely at that and you moan at the feeling of him being inside of you whilst doing it. He shifts so that his hands end up flat against the counter, underneath your knees, and he can lean into you further, “Watch it. Maybe Santa’s a kinky fucker like your husband.”

“My husband,” you repeat as if it’s turning you on just to refer to him like that. Even after years.

“Fuck yes, I’m your husband. Wife,” Javier aims to kiss you hard but the strain on his body to make you come makes him press his lips to your jaw. He continues upwards, mouthing along your chin and cheek. He speaks with ragged breath into the corner of your open mouth.

“Listen to you,” he pants as you reel with pleasure, sweat collecting at his brow. He is concentrating too but he still manages to tease, “Who are you making those pretty noises for?”

“Para tí (for you),” you moan with furrowed eyebrows, “Sólo  para tí, Javi (only for you, Javi).”

“I know— fuck, I know, baby, oh fuck, I can feel you,” he gasps as you clench around him without warning. Everything snaps and then launches into overwhelming spasms that overtake your whole lower body, clenching and unclenching in waves of pleasure. You sob as you come a third time this morning, arms falling to the counter and thighs trembling as you ride it out.

Javier looks like he is in awe as he always does. His pace picks up to near his own peak, and he kisses your mouth before going down your chin, neck, and shoulder, “You’re going to be the death of me, mi amor. You and this pretty pussy… So good at taking my come and making me a Papá.”

You can only cry feebly as he drives his cock in and out of you. The sound sends him into a frenzy, and he makes you whimper at the feeling of him coming inside of your cunt. He twitches with oversensitivity and pulses with each spurt of his warm seed, his breath is shaky and his forehead is against yours. His skin is burning hot, flushing with the way that his heart is hammering in his chest as he contorts his face with a groan of pleasure. It goes on for a moment until he slumps, head falling to your shoulder instead. 

Javier chuckles against the damp and hot skin of your neck from dopamine, pressing a long open-mouthed kiss to it and glancing down at your chest that still heaves for breath. Your gray shirt still sits above your tits and it clings to your body from how it’s been soaked through by your milk. Javier reaches out to circle a flushed nipple with the pad of his thumb, causing your body to shiver. 

“Stop,” you moan through post-coital bliss, not able to do much but rest against the kitchen cabinets. It almost feels like you want to cry in his arms, “Too sensitive.”

Javier removes his hand, “Sorry, mi vida (my life). You okay?”

“Mejoramos cada vez, ¿no? (We get better each time, no?)” You smile lazily. 

He hums in response, agreeing. With his palms flat on the counter, he catches your mouth in a long kiss and you reach up to cup the back of his head. The hair there is sweaty, creating a patch on his shirt right around his neck. 

You want to drown in him, not letting him pull all the way back when he breaks the kiss for air. He rests his nose against your cheek and exhales deeply, “We can’t stay here forever. I gotta fucking sit down too.”

“I need to finish breakfast,” you mumble with your eyes closed as if you’re in the state of being able to do that.

“What you need is a shower,” Javier laughs, kissing the corner of your mouth. He sighs deeply as he stretches to his full height, stepping away from you to let you jump down, “I’ll finish up here. Disinfect the counter, maybe. Then I’ll shower after you.” 

You look at the clock on the kitchen wall before hopping down, “We have a little more than an hour.”

“Think we can manage,” he shrugs. 

You put on the underwear that Javier discarded you of earlier, snapping the elastic as you pull them up over your hips. Javier grins at you, not hiding the way that he is eyeing you up as he puts on his own underwear.

“Wash your hands too, yes?” You tease, leaving him in the kitchen to watch your ass when your back is turned.

“Yes, Mom,” he calls after you.

You try to ignore the feeling of come dripping into your panties as you walk up the stairs, grimacing to yourself and quickly throwing them in the wash along with your shirt when you get into the bathroom. 

The shower spray feels amazing against your skin but nothing feels as good as when you hear Javier talking to Sebastian further down the hall as he gets him out of bed. Even better when you hear him burst the door open to the kids’ playroom, Inés giggling and Lucas following behind as he makes a remark about them being up to something. 

“Who wants to help me and Sebastian make pancakes?” Javier asks. When you close your eyes, you can see Inés and Lucas’ hands shoot up and then you hurry to finish so you can join them as soon as possible. You’ve never given it any real thought but you find that you, too, are exactly where you’re supposed to be.

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