#bring texas with me wherever i go

[biohazard-inevitable]

Wanna come back to my place for some fun?~~~~

What? No i dont want to have sex with you- I was gonna give you a whole 3 course meal but noooooooooooo

[anarcho-smarmyism]

help an nb and trans little sister escape TX

i haven't wanted to make a donations post for myself for the past months no matter how dire things got, considering so many other fundraisers are much more pressing, but my situation has gotten dire. i was able to leave an abusive relationship with a man who was threatening suicide on a regular basis and then cyberstalking me, but i ended up losing transportation, my job, and my housing in the process, and ultimately had to move back into a toxic and dangerous household (as in, someone pulled a gun on me to prove a point within the last week) back in Texas. as many of you know, TX has now been declared a no-travel state for trans people, and having grown up here and been a youth activist during Trump's election back when i was in high school, the local Republican Christian transphobes and homophobes know me by name and face, and my family is either unable or unwilling to give me rides to work, even assuming i can find a legitimate job. to make matters worse, my little sister is a trans woman and lives only a few hours away from Odessa, where there has been a $10,000 bounty offered for any trans people caught using the bathroom.

i desperately need to begin to save money to move; i have several possible safe places offered in North America, but with no car of my own and very limited funds, i have few options. i even had to borrow money from someone to get my old bank account out of overdraft because i couldn't get anyone to help me open a new account. i'm hoping that i can also find a safe home for my three cats, maybe even bring one or several of them with me wherever i go, but for now i have to start saving money for the eventuality that me and my younger sister have to flee within the next few months.

i'm going to try and set up an Etsy store for additional income while i try to find a job, but in the meantime, any donations or purchases of a tarot reading, or simply sharing this post as widely as possible, could be a literal lifesaver.

venmo: @Smarmy

cashapp: $smarmy1

paypal: @Regan451

(i can also use zelle)

[tightjeansjavi]

A/N: Brought to you deliciously by @tightjeansjavi @loquaciousferret @peterhollandkait @chaotic-mystery

Summary: ever wonder how it feels for your favorite Pedro Pascal character to go down on you? Well, look no further because the girlies got you covered! Oh, and these men definitely know how to eat it good.

Warnings: this is literally just smut. If you are under 18 do not interact. This is content NOT intended to be consumed by minors. If you interact and I find for you to be underaged, I will be blocking you, no questions asked.

Din Djarin

↳ @loquaciousferret

Din doesn’t get the opportunity to eat you out as much as he would like, purely due to the logistics involved with ensuring it is perfectly dark and to have the time and space to apply a blindfold to you. You honestly don’t mind that it isn’t often, and it seems to frustrates him more than it does you. He is a selfless and generous person and wishes he could take this into the bedroom too.

All this considered, it does mean he really takes his time whenever he does get the opportunity. He will be patient and spend what seems like hours pulling multiple orgasms from you, never stopping until the point where you are the one begging for him to stop and just fuck you.

“Please- Din, please. I need you.”

“You have me, mesh’la. I’m right here.”

You whined, his facial hair tickled at your inner thighs as he spoke gently, his voice sending vibrations through your core.

When he did eventually fuck you after eating you out, the pleasure was intensified for you both. With you blindfolded, he could kiss and worship all of your body, and take in your subtle facial expressions without his visor obscuring his view.

“So beautiful, cyar’ika. I could stay here with you like this forever.” And he truly wishes he could.

Javier Peña

↳ @tightjeansjavi

Javi Peña eats your pussy wherever, and whenever he wants. You could be at the office, legs spread over his desk, his hands deliciously holding your thighs apart as he devours your sweet cunt. Thank god it’s only you two working late hours because your moans are free falling around the room, bouncing off the walls. You can hear him groaning in content at your sweet taste along his tongue. Even as his jaw goes slack, he continues to lap at you, wanting to get every last drop.

Or you’re in your apartment, blissfully whipping up some brownies or cookies to bring into the office, humming whatever tune is playing on the radio. You’re wearing one of Javi’s shirts, and a thin pair of panties. Your hips sway just enough for Javi to notice. You feel his presence looming behind you before he’s sinking down his knees. Your breath is caught in your throat when you feel his hands sneak up the apex of your thighs, prying them apart. “Javi, what are you—” you stumble over your words, gripping the counter tightly when he flattens his tongue against your clothed pussy, tasting you through the thin fabric. “Don’t mind me, cariño. Keep on whisking.”

You feel him hook his thumb along the side of your panties, revealing your slick cunt to him and then he’s completely devouring you, your knees nearly buckle as his nose bumps into your clit. His tongue is absolutely working you into ruin. “Javi, this really isn’t the time—fuck, baby.”

He’d let out a low chuckle against your core, sending warm vibrations up your spine. “There’s never a time more perfect to eat your sweet pussy cariño.” He tsks.

Pre!Outbreak Joel

↳ @chaotic-mystery

Pre!outbreak Joel would eat your pussy whenever and wherever he wanted your aching cunt in his mouth. It didn’t matter if you were in public, that’s why his truck has back seats. All he’d have to do is give you that look and you knew what was coming. Your minimal clothing choices in the Texas heat would make him start looking for secluded places to pull over. His hand would be at the very top of your thigh and he’d squeeze ever so gently causing your breath to hitch. It was the slight risk of getting caught by someone as he’s going to town on his girl, making her squirm and cry out.

He’d push your legs back so your thighs are slightly pinned against your stomach so he can see your dripping wet pussy in all its glory. As soon as your panties hit the floor of the truck, he’d give you a groan as he gets closer to you and admire how wet you already are for him. “Look at this beautiful fuckin’ pussy baby doll. Who got you like this, hm? Tell me sweet girl.” Just as you’re about to answer, he’d flatten his tongue against your clit and start devouring you. He liked seeing how much he can make you work for it while he’s rotting your brain, taking your breath away with his devilish mouth. “Cmon baby, tell me” he’d moan against you trying to aid a response between your moans.

Your fingers would comb through his hair and tug every time he sucked on your clit and shook his head from side to side, scoring a raspy whimper from you. His hand clutching your pillowy breasts and pinching your nipples, causing you to feel a fiery pit in your stomach.

“Joel please I’m gonna cum- don’t stop, just like that, just like that” your sentence growing to barely a whisper as you were right at the edge of releasing. Joel’s tongue would start flicking against your sensitive bud and that was all it took, your legs wrapped around his head as you rode his face, screaming his name. It didn’t stop there, of course. As you’d ride your high and buck your hips against his wet face, his mouth would still be attached to your clit. You’d start turning side to side, trying to back up but he’d wrap his arms around your thighs and pull you as close as he could, moaning into your juices that made your pussy glisten in the sun spilling through the window.

“Where are you goin, darlin'? I’m not full yet” he’d mutter and go right back to licking up your juices, running his tongue along the slick folds and around your clit. You’d push his head away and cry out, begging for a break but he’d grab your wrists, your legs tightening around his head even more. “One more baby cmon one more fuckin time just for me, pretty baby” your body shaking and breathes becoming faster until they sounded like gasps. The shriek of pleasure you let out as your eyes roll to the back of your head, a tear slipping from your eye as your body falls into complete euphoria. Your legs would fall from his shoulders, body still trembling slightly as he’d hover above you and admire his work that was written all over your face.

Post!Outbreak Joel

↳ @tightjeansjavi

Post!Outbreak Joel eats your pussy like it’s solely based around his own survival. How else is he supposed to feel alive, and human without his mouth devouring your cunt? There is no sweeter sound to his ears than mewls he elicits from your pretty little lips from his sinful mouth devouring you. You almost just got bit by a clicker? Cool, drop your pants girlie, because Joel is going to make you forget all about that near death experience in no time!

He prefers to have you on all fours, ass up with your back arched at almost an uncomfortable angle. Your bare pussy, glistening and pulsing through his heated, greedy gaze. You would only briefly feel his hot breath fanning your core. Joel doesn’t like wasting any time, but he loves to hear you beg him just a little. He’s a bit of a biter, and you’d feel his teeth graze the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, causing you to lurch forward on your knees. He’d growl under his breath, wrapping his arm around your stomach and pull you right back to his face. “You stay right where you are darlin’ you hear me?” His mouth would be on you before you’d even get a chance to respond. He loved knocking the air from your lungs. It would take him no time to have you chasing your impending orgasm. His lips would be harshly wrapped around your clit, sucking intensely on your bundle of nerves. His teeth would graze you, and you’d be seeing stars.

His coarse, wiry beard would be scratching deliciously at your sensitive skin. The only time he would pause his sinful actions would be to spit on your already soaked cunt, he’d drag his tongue through his own salvia mixed with your juices before he would be lapping at you again. As soon as you would start to feel that the sensation was too much, your thighs would be quivering as you’d beg him to show you some mercy. “Joel—please I-I—it’s too much. Baby, I can’t—please..” you whined.

“Yes you can, pretty girl. I ain’t fuckin’ done with you yet.” He harshly whispered against your cunt. His beard and chin would already be coated in your arousal but this was never enough for him.

He’d flip you over onto your back, without warning, and grab your ankles in his calloused palms. He’d yank you down so you were beneath him, before he’d be devouring you once more. Your fingers would be desperately fisting his hair, riding into his face, feeling him everywhere. You’d scream his name, loud enough for the entire QZ to hear just how good this man treated you, and your pussy. Even after you would be fully spent, he’d keep his head buried between your thighs, his tongue would slowly be lapping up your release, before he’d press a chaste kiss to your clit. “Always such a good girl for me darlin’ could eat you for every fuckin’ meal.”

Frankie Fransico Morales

↳ @peterhollandkait

Frankie “pussy eating king” Morales

• Frankie starts slow, teasing you with his mouth and fingers on other parts of your body.

• Everyone thinks Frankie is an ass man, but he really truly loves your tits, never getting enough of them.

• He leaves marks and bruises all over them, sucking on your nipples with any chance he can get.

• When he finally moves down to your core, still teasing you, he breathes against your cunt, pressing kisses to your inner thighs.

• He does this until you’re begging him, whining for his touch, which is when he finally gives in.

• Frankie eats you like a man starved, lapping up your juices fervently. He has an arm holding open your thighs, the other pressing two fingers into your entrance, pumping them in and out.

• Every once in a while, he pulls away to whisper words of encouragement against your skin.

• “You like that baby?”

• “You’re doing so good for me gorgeous, taking my mouth so well”

• When his mouth is back on your folds, you’re mewling for him.

• He doesn’t give you a break between your first and second orgasm, sucking on your clit, making the most obscene noises as your pleasure wracks through you again and again.

• When you’re coming down from your second climax, he lays his head on your inner thigh, giving you a pussy drunk smile.

• He’s obsessed with you, never even thinking to touch himself at any point.

• This is all for you, no matter how hard his cock might be

• He puts his mouth back on you, fucking your third orgasm out of you with his tongue.

• He makes you see stars, your head going blank and body feeling weightless. He knows exactly how to manipulate your body to coax the most powerful orgasms from you.

• He learns your cues easily, knowing that your thighs shake before you squirt all over his face, covering him in your juices

• The way you tug on his hair tightly and arch your back before you come, screaming his name

• The echo of your voice on the walls gives him purpose, not hesitating to dive further into you to get what he wants

• Afterwards he puts every effort into making sure you’re comfortable

• He cleans you up with a warm washcloth, tucking you carefully under the covers before he joins you on the other side.

• He doesn’t care about his own pleasure, his only thoughts are to care for you.

Dieter Bravo

↳ @tightjeansjavi

Dieter Fucking Bravo eats your pussy like he’s the president of the pussy eating fan club. He is always absolutely greedy, ravenous to have his face buried against your sweet cunt. He’d have you for breakfast, lunch, dinner, appetizer, and of course dessert. On the occasions that you’d be spending the weekend with him, (literally every weekend) Dieter’s one, and simple request, is that you’d wear no panties around him. So you’d find yourself in his penthouse, wearing one of his expensive tailored shirts, and no panties. You could be doing the most mundane tasks, such as; doing your laundry. You’d be leaned over the open dryer, glistening pussy on full display for him. Next thing you know, his hands are around your hips and hoisting you up onto the dryer, spreading your legs wide open. He’d have a few greedy licks, before he would turn the dryer on, sending sweet vibrations up your core before his mouth and tongue would be fully devouring you. He’d use his pointer and middle finger to spread your slick folds open so you were on full display. He’d fuck your pussy with his tongue dragging it in and out of you before he’d focus all of his attention on your clit. The obscene slurping sounds he would make would drive you wild, and turn your brain to mush. He’d moan into you, shaking his head back and forth as he laps at you. “Mhmmm. Sweetest fucking pussy baby. All mine. Can eat you for fucking days, my sweet sweet girl. Now I’m gonna need you to cum all over my face like the dirty little girl I know you are.” Between the vibrations of the dryer, and Dieter's tongue showing you no mercy, you do just as he says. Screaming out his name while your hips buck up into his face. Even after you're spent, he continues to lap at you before he’s coaxing as many orgasms out of you as you're willing to give him.

He likes eating your pussy when it’s the most inconvenient possible time ever. Usually when you’re on your laptop, typing away. You’re on a writer's block for the next chapter of your 200k smut fic about Poe Dameron. He’s about to go down on the reader, but you’re lacking inspiration. Just as you're clicking the next key, you feel Dieter’s lips pressing to your ankle, he’s on his stomach and you peek over the top of your screen to see his smug face looking up at you. “How’s that chapter coming along baby?” He speaks against your skin, kissing his way up your calf and thigh. “I’m at writer's block. I can’t fucking find the inspiration for this scene. He’s supposed to go down on the reader and—” you give him a warning look as he inches his face closer to your pussy. He shuts the screen to your laptop and places it on the coffee table. You roll your eyes as he’s already hiking your hip up with your foot firmly planted against the side of the couch. “Mmm. This is that trigger happy X-Wing Pilot, right?” You can feel his hot breath fanning your core as he licks his lips. “Yeah, and I really don’t need you—” your mouth falls open when he attaches his lips to your clit, sucking harshly. “Mmm well I can be your inspiration baby. You just pretend I’m that Poe Dameron fellow.” He hums against you, and you can feel his stupid smirk against your pussy. His tongue is lapping you up, swirling and sucking on your clit like you’re his last meal. He switches from fast licks, to slow filthy ones that have you yanking his hair and demanding more. This smug bastard is spelling his fucking name against your soaked pussy because he is absolutely marking what is his. Dieter Bravo is a whore for eating your pussy, and he isn’t ashamed to admit it.

Jack Whiskey Daniels

↳ @loquaciousferret

Agent Whiskey doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth. He prefers something heavy, smokey, fiery. But when it comes to you… Well, that’s different see, because you are the sweet thing he needs a taste of at the end of every long, hard day.

He’ll return home from work, (having been doing god knows what all day), and he’ll find you perched somewhere in the house, sometimes the sofa, sometimes the bed, sometimes on a barstool at the kitchen island. He would seek you out like a missile locked on a target.

He would kiss you first, licking your strawberry lip balm from your lips. When he made his way down, slowly, sucking gently at your neck, he tasted coconut. When he sank to his knees before you, and nestled his head between your thighs, the taste was still sweet as could be, something indescribable and incomparable, something uniquely you. You giggled as he dived in, trying to indulge further, but the wide brim of his hat obstructed his access to you.

He smirked, quickly removing it and reaching up to place it on your head.

“You take care of that, sugar, and let me take care of you.”

He would eat your pussy until you were having to push him away, legs shaking, overstimulated from having come apart on his tongue numerous times. He would barely give you a reprieve until he wanted to start again, pleading with you softly, “Come on sweet girl, I know you got one more for me.”

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart. 

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.” 

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

taglist: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @mrsjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446

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[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter!

part 10 here’s the LINK to part 9. Thank you for reading! Sorry for a bit of a boring filler chapter, I’m gonna really start building on Leni and Max’s relationship from now on, maybe throw in some more drama and complication cos I love it muahaha

Social media start to see something between Max and his team principles daughter, Leni. Max (especially after a few drinks) can no longer hide how he feels towards her.

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24@larastark3107 @maxxiemoo @crashingwavesofeuphoria @18754389

Austin, Texas October 22nd:

Max somehow felt even more out of bounds than he ever had before. I didn’t know how to act, I mean the first few days were kinda awkward. Whenever we spoke it felt like there was something else behind the eye contact we’d make, like there was that familiar tension lingering. ‘Just don’t ignore me’ his words played in my mind over and over. Whenever he was around I could feel the squeeze in my chest, the urge to just smile at him or say hello. “Hi Max.” I did a double take, breaking off from the conversation with Daniel and Heidi. “Hello, Leni.” His smile grew, I broke the eye contact, smiling to myself. When I glanced back at him, he was doing the same, a smile that made my stomach feel all fuzzy. “You excited for the race?”

“Yeah, actually-” he held is breath, bringing his hands together. I awaited his response patiently. “I need you- we need you to help with something.” My face flushed at his correction, tongue pressed to the inner side of my cheek.

“Mhm, what’s up?” I desperately hoped I wasn’t burning such a red colour right now, not as red as Max, because it was painfully obvious. Both of us knew exactly why it was happening, but it was unspoken. “There’s a piece of tare-off that’s gone inside the car, I thought you might have small enough arms to reach it.” I laughed at his response. “Oh great, I can try my best.”

The whole time I was reaching in, it was lucky my dad wasn’t there because I wasn’t bent to an angle that was rather… promiscuous? “Max- my skirt.” I breathlessly laughed, arm still inside the car trying to reach wherever the hell this tare off had gone. I could tell Max was getting a little stressed, he had to be out there soon and nobody could reach this stupid film out.

“Oh, got it.” He reached for the end of my dress, holding it firmly back down to preserve my modestly. My finger tips touched the film, leaning deeper in before retrieving it. “Ah, got it.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Everybody was treating me like the woman of the hour, I kinda loved it.

“There you go.” I handed it back to the gloved driver. Max pulled me in for a sudden hug, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “I love you, Leni.” He proudly announced. Despite the playfulness. “Yeah, don’t let Christian hear that!” One engineer called out as I rolled my eyes, watching them kick start into preparation again. “Thank you.” He rubbed my arm, before breaking apart a little awkwardly. “It’s okay, now you just have to win.” I teased, feeling his eyes lingering over my face. His plump lips were pulled into a smile, one that slightly reached his eyes as his eyelids dropped heavy. He looked beautiful, I couldn’t resist looking back up to him, despite how intimate the moment oddly felt.

“I’ll try.” He shrugged, “good luck.” I gently smiled, nodding before leaving him to get in the mindset before a race. Whatever was between us was lingering there thick. It was distracting enough for me, so I couldn’t imagine how he felt.

I’d spent the race in a mixture of the Red Bull garage, the paddock and the Mercedes garage. A traitor moment of me, I know, but my long time friend Mick, and his girlfriend Laila were here so I enjoyed some time with them, taking lots of pictures with the endless amount of cow boy hats there seemed to be lingering around this place. It felt too stereotypical to say that, but why did the grid have so many laying around?! Half of them were probably Daniels.

After another successful race from Max, the celebrations obviously began in full force. “Leni, Leni, look at this.” Lando smirked, pulling me by my sleeve to one side where I glanced down to a tik tok. “You have tik tok?” I laughed, bringing the cigarette up to my lips.

“You smoke?!” “Only when I’ve had a drink.” I muttered. “I’m telling Christian.” He tutted. “That’s right, bum your way up to a Redbull 2024 seat.” “No way- anyway. Look at this video.” He held the tik tok out to me again, I took his phone in my hand, eyes widening to see the pictures. Lando was snickering like crazy, especially when the audio began playing. “It seems Max Verstappen has been in close contact with Red Bull’s team principles daughter. Leno Horner who is 22 and stunning may I add seems to be taking over the paddock this season and it seems Max in particular has his… well.” The girl backed off to show the picture of Max’s eyes on my eyes whilst I bent over to retrieve the plastic from inside the RB earlier in the day. “-Eyes on her. Max is recently single after his split from Kelly Piquet, and Leni has been single (I believe don’t quote me on this) for some time now. Could we be seeing a new WAG entering the paddock anytime soon?!”

“Will we?” Lando glanced to me with a smirk. My jaw opened to speak. “What’re you guys looking at?” Max questioned and u physically jumped, closing Lando’s phone and shoving it back into his hand. Simultaneously I tossed the cigarette onto the floor before.

“Nothing.” I seriously answered causing Lando to crack up further. I didn’t even have time to react to the video, Max most definitely heard what was blasting and I was emotionally traumatised, embarrassed from the whole exchange.

“Sounded like nothing!” Max nodded, standing beside me and nudging his hand towards Lando’s phone. “Mate, you don’t wanna see the video.” Lando childishly laughed as I pursed my lips, preventing a nervous giggle from escaping. “Mate, I already heard it!” Max spluttered out as I cracked out a laugh. “You don’t wanna see it though.” Lando nudged me. “Why not?!” The Dutch man glanced between the pair.

“Trust me. I’m saving you from a lifetime of embarrassment.” Lando dramatically spoke. Max rolled his eyes and took the one. Lando snickered as he unlocked it for the other driver. “I’m going now-” I began.

“Wha- no Leni, what is it?” Max was dumbfounded, pulling the audio up to his ear. I cringed. “Don’t listen to it.” I swatted his hand back down. Max took my hand in his free one, holding it bay. He looked amused at the video, but I could see vividly the horror contort on his face when he glanced down to see what he’d already been looking at prior. My ass. Lando was laughing like a teenager, taking the phone back from a red faced Max. He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or hide from embarrassment. “Well hey, she has a good ass- if you don’t mind me saying.” “Yeah, I’m not denying that.”

“Max! Deny it!” I laughed, my hand slipping from his grasp. The two boys shared a look and I felt my face warming. “Oh, I’m not even- I’m going. You’re both gross.” I teased playfully nudging Max. Just as I backed off to playfully go find somebody else, Max hurried forwards. “Are you actually going?” He breathlessly spoke. “It is late, I’m kinda tired.”

“But- I didn’t upset you did I? You know with that video?” He innocently spoke. My heart melted and I found myself laughing at his worried tone.

“No, not at all. You know I don’t listen to that kinda stuff.” “Me either.” He awkwardly laughed, walking beside me. “But… stil.” He shrugged. “No it’s fine, Max. I stare at peoples bums all the time.” I shrugged, pushing my way through the double doors where I could make my way to the back entrance.

“I’ll come back with you.” Max commented, scurrying up beside me. “Are you sure? I thought you said you were getting Lando shots?”

“Yeah.” Max waved it off as I paused, standing to face him. Max’s eyes were slightly glassy from being intoxicated and he was a little wobbly.

“He’ll be fine. I’d rather leave, make sure you get back alright, you know? You are more fun than half those people, anyway…”

[talesfrommedinastation]

Redneck Doug watches 'The Bad Batch: A Different Approach'

Believe it or not, this episode started the first real argument between Doug and I!

Hope y'all enjoy it.

CW: Language and Doug is surprisingly critical of fat folks, despite the fact that he's from one of the least healthy states in the USA, has a massive beer gut, and can put away a whole rack of ribs and multiple barbeque fixin's in one sitting. I've seen it in person, folks. We were snipping at each other over fatphobia, glass houses, and the merits of The Treasure State after this.

I might have sacrificed my invitation to his St Patrick's Day party as a result. Oh well.

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

Episode 4: “Adventures in Space Montana” 

(image from @ladyzirkonia)

And we’re starting off with Little Orphan Blondie behind the wheel of a stolen vehicle because the girl is every inch her hillbilly brothers family.

Why is the plane on fire? Does this end like Alive? I thought ships couldn’t burn in space, I mean, I studied engineering, worked in oil, girl I remember Event Horizon.

Whelp, they crashed in a cold-ass field with some pointy mountains behind them. Clearly Montana. Maybe there’s a national park nearby and they can go hiking.

Aw, no, Mutant Jimmers is stuck behind Daddy Warcrimes’s seat! Let the ol girl out before she pees all over the spare tire!

Did they bring their guns? Hope they did. This is Montana, the Texas of the north, except you can’t find the bodies anywhere. If I was gonna go and murder someone, I’d pick Montana after Alaska.  

(Pictured: Omega and Crosshair are somewhere in this picture)

A sketchy cold-ass town where everyone’s gambling, there’s too much military trash wandering around and you see your breath even inside the bar? Yup, definitely Montana. 

(“Montana is not like that! I’ve been there multiple times! I almost went to grad school at UM and the kayaking, skiing, hiking, and breweries are amazing!” - Me, defending a state I have never lived in

“Yeah, but have you been to Butte? Thought I was gonna go get eaten by the locals there.” - Doug

::proceed to bicker and fight via texts about the many merits and demerits of the Big Sky State::)

Aw yeah, Daddy Warcrimes and Little Orphan Blondie got new clothes. Smart man, covering his face, Daddy Warcrimes. He totally looks like me when I gotta rake the lawn in November. I like that sweater, think they’ll sell them at Disneyland? 

And they’re back to gambling. See! I told you this was Montana! They even have a gun rack!

Look at Little Orphan Blondie taking down fools with some cards! I bet Ryan-from-Accounting is smiling watching from Heaven or wherever he’s fighting the Space Balrog to come back as Space Gandalf. 

Oh who is this fat fuck. Lord a mercy, is he the one fat imperial we have ever seen? Man I tell you what I bet he’s too hefty to ride in an AT-AT and that’s why they sent him to Space Montana, thinking the hiking and eating venison and berries will slim that brother up.

Maybe Vader will force him to run while carrying Palpatine like we did to other recruits in the Navy. 

Nope, he’s gambling with a little girl in a bar, because the Empire just can’t follow rules now can it. That don’t make any sense. I’m with you, Daddy Warcrimes, giving that sour puss to everyone. I would too. 

And now Officer Fat Fuck is gone done taking money from a child who beat him fair and square. Yup, he works for the government, all right. I bet he manages the Empire’s DMV.

Creepy little street boy wants some cash to tell them where they took Mutant Jimmers. I don’t blame the boy, it looks like no one wants to buy his shitty watermelon and he ain’t got a face.

Why in the hell are there so many animals in crates and shit here? They starting a zoo or something? Is it all to feed Officer Fat Fuck? I need info on this. 

Shit yeah, fire them guns, Daddy Warcrimes! It’s your time to shine, big boy!

Oh yeah they freed Mutant Jimmers! And everybody else. Oh man, is that a kraken? Whelp, its dinner tonight is Officer Fat Fuck. Good on ya, kraken, you may be named after the world’s worst hockey team but ain’t bad all the time now. 

(pictured: they keep losing games but hey they at least eat imperial officers?)

Gotta fry some dumb Imperial while you’re leaving, of course. Why they wearing them goggles when they got helmets on? Shit, real dumb. Don���t like the Inspector Gadget trench coats either, those can get caught real quick in a door and that’s how you get shot and all. 

Ah yeah, they saved their cash, grabbed a ship, and they’re off to the moon! There they go! 

DADDY RAMBO LITTLE ORPHAN BLONDIE JULIO AND DADDY WARCRIMES ALL BACK TOGETHER! OH MY LORD MEAT MUFFIN I AIN’T EXPECTING THIS THIS EARLY! WOW! 

(image from @dreamswithghosts)

And Mutant Jimmers is with them too. It’s a good day on the moon! 

Tagging Doug's fans of course: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified

[bleachbleachbleach]

I wanna ask as an add on about tamales… And it’s fall, so…. Who would finish up all the champurrado and atole that was made to warm everybody up on a cold day?

[This ask is in reference to this post, and boy I'm glad Tumblr's Activity shows you when someone Likes an old post, because I would not have remembered this on my own!]

Our original answer proceeded from the premise that Renji would enjoy tamales and that Chad introduced him to them. When I read this ask, my first thought was, "Who would finish up all the champurrado? Hisagi, obviously." So let's take this in an additional direction this time!

I think Hisagi would absolutely enjoy an unfamiliar warm beverage, because:

Nanao told him his matsuri snack contributions in Colorful Bleach were boring, and he obviously took this to heart

Tousen ran the SC's cooking column

Kensei also cooks

I have an uncle whose first wive divorced him because he was boring (so the rumors go, anyway), after which he got into--and is still into, decades later--ocean cave kayaking and climb/distance-oriented road cycling, and I feel like Hisagi has definitely exhibited this kind of energy. So now he's the Seireitei's MOST adventurous eater (and one day, cooker), and that's in the face of some stiff competition, because I think Rukia and Matsumoto would eat anything. (Admittedly, Hisagi still only won this one because Unohana is dead, but...)

This does not, however, resolve where the champurrado came from in the first place. Not from Kensei's kitchen--he'll do inaka food and some pretty good Japanified Western dishes, but his take on Mexican food specifically is no better than Japan's take on Mexican food. (I've never had Mexican food in Japan but no part of me believes it could possibly be a good idea. Reasons why Chad is his own excellent cook, probably. ANYWAY--)

There's some debate about whose souls Soul Society has purview over. Is it just Japan? Is it people who are in Japan when they die? What about the Japanese diaspora?

There are places in Japan that diasporic Japanese Buddhists can send ashes to, such that they are interred both in Japan and wherever the rest of their ashes live. I've also been to a mausoleum in Japan which has small shrines for each of the Buddhist churches in the United States (and, I assume, other countries, as well). When we visited, we burned incense at these shrines, connecting across an ocean.

I feel like Soul Society doesn't actually know who goes where. I also feel like despite all their soul math, it's pretty leaky and not actually as well documented as all the bureaucracy would have you believe--so it's not everyone in Japan, but it's sometimes people you wouldn't expect, and it's also sometimes people from afar. People who end up there anyway.

So yeah, there's a Spanish-speaking segment of Rukongai. It's unofficial, but often the Spanish-speaking souls all find their way there anyway. It's made up of half-remembered lives in Peru, and Mexico--and Crystal City, Texas. The segment is in East Rukongai, because everything is in East Rukongai. At one point, it might have had a name assigned to it by the Gotei, but now everyone knows it as Echo Park.

Hisagi, also being of East Rukongai, is an honorary son.

Does Hisagi speak Spanish? No. But BY GOD, he can play a mean game of cross-cultural Lotería (and he always brings the best booze when he comes to hang out), anyway:

^ This excellent card is from the game night portion of last week's leadership retreat for an org I'm part of, before our action the next day. Japanese and Spanish-speaking worlds have a long and ever-lengthening history of relationship with each other! <3

The champurrado comes out when the sun starts to glimmer at the far end of the district, warning of morning, and it's time to (probably worsen, in the long run) an epic East Rukongai hangover.

[chaosgremlinmunson]

STWG daily prompt 5/10/23

Prompt: quiet

Pairing: Steddie, platonic Stobin, and Eddie/Robin friendship

Subject: unexpected child, Steve has bad parents.

When Eddie came bounding up the driveway he was thinking he'd get to see Steve, cause some chaos while making his boy smile, and snuggle up all night. What he wasn't expecting was to get there, and as she opened the door be cornered by Robin who immediately shushed him, pulling him back outside for a moment.

"What's going on Birdie? Why did you kidnap me back outside?" Eddie was staring at Robin now, who was biting her thumbnail.

"Look, uh, something unexpected happened this morning and well, I don't really know how to say this." Robin was rambling, "Ok, so uh, so there's a baby in the house. And well you know Steve's parents are horrible but we haven't even heard from them since spring break of last year, and then today this girl showed up. Well, anyway Steve apparently now is responsible for his little sister, the girl is two years old and they're just now dumping her on him?! I mean, could they not find his dad, why Steve? Why is it always Steve?"

Eddie just stood next to Robin, his arms wrapped around his torso, rocking back on his heels as he stared up into the cloudy sky, "You, know. He's lucky has you Birdie. But if you bringing me outside was warning because you thought I'd run-"

"I know you're not going to. If you break his heart I'll make you wish those bats finished the job Munson, and you know it."

"Yeah, I know Bucks. I love him. No matter what baggage comes with that I'm not letting him go, I hope I can talk him into leaving this Podunk town, maybe bring you with us, we can move to Indianapolis, or God I don't know, just somewhere far from Hawkins. The kids are all leaving, you know. I heard they Byers are all going back to California and Hopper is of course following his family. The Sinclair's apparently are fostering Max and moving them all to Chicago since Max's mom can't be found, and Dustin and his mom said wherever we go she'll move Dusty close by. The Wheelers are apparently moving down to Texas, something about Ted's father owns a ranch and they need a fresh start anyway. Just, let's go be with our boy, be whatever he needs right now and we can figure out everything else later." Eddie knew he just rambled for too long, but he needed Robin to know this wasn't spur of the moment. This was something he wanted, and if Robin needed to come so Steve was there he was thrilled. He loved them both.

They walked quietly back in being sure to make no noise, and they rounded the corner to Steve singing softly to his sister holding her close as she slept. Eddie knew in that moment, he was going to marry this man and that little girl would know nothing but true unconditional love for all of her life. He quietly sat next to Steve on one side while Robin took the other, and together they just watched the newest angel of their little family as she held on to her big brother even in her sleep.

[hopelessromantic5]

Alright.

This is a Masters of the Air snippet of mine. Just a small one. I’ll probably post most of the longer ones on ao3.

This is Buck and Bucky, post-war, in Wyoming.

Gale spends a month in Wyoming after the war, with no word from Bucky.

Marge visits, though they called off the wedding long before he left the Stalag. She stops to make sure he’s…well, alive. Brings casserole dishes that Gale can’t find it in himself to eat until he’s dizzy with hunger.

It’s a quiet, early summer morning when Buck hears the rumbling sound of an engine, and tires on the gravel road.

He freezes, an instinct any time someone ventures down his road.

He’s the only one still living on this particular dirt road, rest of the houses long abandoned and dilapidated.

Marge was supposed to be in Mills with her parents all week.

Who else knows-

Oh.

There’s only one other person on Earth who knows or cares where Buck is.

The realization almost sent him running down the road to greet him. Instead, as his breathing picked up in adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied John, he smoothed his hair back and ran a hand down the front of his button up shirt, hoping he didn’t look horrible.

Of course, John had seen him at his absolute worst, but logic really wasn’t in the cards just then.

The sounds got closer just as the single cab blue truck came into view.

With some kinda trailer on the back?

Buck would ask after seeing Bucky’s face on American soil for the first time since they left Texas years ago.

Then he was there, like he never left.

“Hell, Cleven, you never told me you lived in the middle of nowhere.”

Bucky grinned, slamming the truck in park and climbing out of the drivers seat before he had the chance turned the engine off.

Buck caught him when John launched himself into his arms. They were both gasping, like neither had breathed real air in a month.

“What took you so long?” Buck whispered into his shoulder, eyes closed, absorbing Bucky wherever he could. The smell of his aftershave mixed with lucky strikes, the span of his broad back under Gale’s hands.

“Had to get something first.” Bucky leaned back just enough to smirk at him, hands not leaving Buck’s waist.

“Go have a look.”

Buck furrowed his eyebrows in confusion,

“What-“

Then Bucky moved out of his line of sight, and he finally caught the movement of something in his peripheral.

He zeroed in on the trailer attached to Bucky’s truck, and found that something was alive in there.

Was that a-

“Bucky! Is that-“

“Yes, it is.” There was soft grin on John’s face, but it was still shit-eating and proud of himself.

Gale almost kissed him on the spot, but he would never ruin a moment like this with his impulsiveness.

“How in the hell did you manage that?” Gale’s feet were already bringing him closer to the animal hovering by the slats.

“Saved up for a while, and the extra check they sent certainly didn’t hurt.”

“Why? Why buy a horse?” Gale asked, looking back at him.

John furrowed his own brows, looking at Buck like he was crazy.

“Why did I- Buck, she’s yours. I bought her for you.”

“You did what?” Gale must’ve misheard, surely.

John chuckled, shaking his head. He stepped closer to both Gale and the horse.

“Let’s start over.” He said. After clearing his throat and effectively avoiding his eyes by focusing on the filly.

“Buck, considering that you’re letting me freeload in your ginormous house and bother you frequently, and as a partial thank you for getting me through the worst time in both of our lives, I bought you a horse. This is Blue. Named because, while she has a grey coat, in certain lights, it looks blue, like a stormy sky.”

Gale didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t speak.

So John, added a post script.

“Not that this will ever come close to evening our score. But I thought it might help. I remember what you told me, about your first horse. And how nothing was ever the same. I wanted to at least give you the chance at something like that again.”

A tear fell from Buck’s eye before he reeled Bucky into an almost bruising hug. Holding him so tight, Bucky thought it might leave a mark. He wanted it to leave a mark. He wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life.

“Thank you.” Buck whispered. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

“Get used to it.” John quipped back, softly, causing Gale to laugh into his neck.

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller EPILOGUE

Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC

Rating: PG-13 (sweet and fluffy but you already know there's some swears)

Summary: Everyone gathers to celebrate Ellie's birthday.

AN: Might make some head cannon/blurb type continuations to this, nothing super plot heavy. Send in any requests/ideas for these two if you got 'em (smutty and non-smutty)!

Masterlist

He’d take the headache of another raid on his supplies over his current situation - arguing with Tommy over some damn birthday balloons. 

“It’s not centered,” Tommy grumbled, glaring up at his older brother with a defiant scowl. 

Joel slowly counted backwards from ten, a little thing his wife had introduced to him so he’d stop yelling at his men so much.

“Yes it is.” Joel exhaled slowly through his nose. “You wanna get a level, for fuck’s sake?”

They continued glaring for a solid minute before Tommy smirked, glancing over his shoulder, causing Joel’s scowl to deepen. 

“Don’t,” the older man warned.

“Indi, sweetheart, come ‘ere for a second, please?!” Tommy yelled across the yard, barely dodging a punch in the arm.

Joel rolled his eyes, smacking the back of his hand against his brother’s head just before his wife stopped in front of them. “Really?”

“What’s up?” she asked sweetly, that bright smile as stunning as her wedding ring, which reflected off the mid-afternoon sunlight.

“Joel says the arch is centered and I think it’s not, he won’t admit his vision is finally crappin’ out on him,” Tommy explained, that boyish smile making Joel roll his eyes again as his brother tried to persuade his wife.

God, he loved saying that. His wife.

“Well, I think it looks great, guys,” she shrugged, assessing their work, “It is centered…just not in the right place.” She glanced at Joel. “The balloon arch is for the back door, Tommy,” she said gently, like talking to a child. 

“Mother-.” He ran a frustrated hand down his face, going to remove the reinforcements they’d added to the bottom so they could move it across the yard. Again. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re really sexy when you’re in charge?” he murmured in her ear as Tommy continued to gripe in the background.

“Shut up, Joel.”

He grinned, wrapping a strong arm around her neck, leaning in close to her. “Yes ma’am.”

“Stop it.” She tried to be serious but couldn’t help the giggle when his lips brushed her earlobe.

“Hey! You gonna help me or not?” Tommy hollered, holding one end of the arch up.

Joel kissed her softly on the cheek and winked before sauntering over to help his brother. She’d been planning this for months, as soon as she learned that Ellie’s birthday was coming up. When asking the teenager what she wanted to do, her response consisted of, “Something quiet with my friends, and Dina, and you guys too, oh and Tommy and Bill and Frank..” she said eagerly. 

And that’s how some of the members of the biggest, baddest crime group in Texas ended up helping decorate Bill and Frank’s backyard for a teenager’s birthday. Ellie had been out all day with her friends, driven around by Ethan to the mall or the movies or wherever else they wanted to go. He’d been given strict instructions to have the girls home by six and to bring Ellie and her lovely girlfriend back here by seven.

“What time’s the food coming?” she called out to Tommy.

“Should be here about five-ish, definitely ready to go by six for sure,” Tommy said as they passed her with the giant arch of multicolored balloons. 

Joel would end up arguing with Tommy for another fifteen minutes over the arch and then the drink selection…and then when they hung up the backdrop for photos. 

Later that afternoon, Indi stepped out of the bedroom, walking quickly around the room as she hurried to get ready. Joel was lounging on the bed, his button-down shirt pulled taut against his chest, his arms accentuated by the rolled up sleeves and darker shade. He also knew the dark jean and boots combination always got her riled up, especially when she’s had a few glasses of wine. 

“Lemme look at you, baby girl,” he requested, hands crossed behind his head as he watched her.

“No, because you always want to touch after you’ve looked.”

He smirked, getting up and grabbing her by her side, pulling her body against him. “Can’t help it, too damn pretty,” he muttered against her neck, lips leaving a warm, wet trail from her collar to her earlobe.

“Joel,” she huffed, her resolve quickly disappearing the more he kissed on her. “We have to leave in like ten minutes”

“Just enough time to make you come.”

“Joel,” she snapped even as she was gripping his forearm, “I swear to God if you fuck up my make-up…”

He hummed deeply against her shoulder. “Gonna punish me, baby girl? Put me in my place?” he growled, squeezing her hips tightly, grinding his semi-hard cock into the back of her dress against the swell of her ass.

“Joel,” she warned again, slightly more assertive this time when she heard a car door slam outside. 

“Lemme make you feel good, been so tense plannin’ this all month for Ellie,” he insisted, his thumbs drawing rough circles into her hips. 

“After the party,” she muttered, leaning back against his broad chest, allowing his hands to continue wandering to her thighs. 

“Maybe a little preview and then the rest after?” he said, chuckling darkly as he turned her in his arms and kissed her deeply. 

She blinked up at him when he pulled back, feeling like he’d convinced her by how dilated her eyes were. “You’re insane.” 

“You fuckin’ love it, baby,” he said, grinning when her hands gripped his shirt, her thigh coming between his legs to rub at his crotch. 

She glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the table. “We’ve got eight minutes.” 

He smirked triumphantly, leaning down to kiss her hard, his hands holding her face. “More than enough time to get you to come, darlin’, maybe twice if you’re good for me...”

She hummed her agreement, eyes closing as he inched his fingers under the skirt of her dress. Just by the way he toyed with her panties, she knew they wouldn’t finish in eight minutes.

They ended up arriving about ten minutes late. Tommy was sitting in the living room with Bill and Frank, all three already with a beer in hand. Joel walked into the room with Indi’s hand in his, greeting their guests in typical-Joel fashion.

“Party hasn’t even started yet and you're already drinkin’,” he said gruffly, yet all the men could recognize the teasing undertone unique to Joel’s voice. 

“Been bustin’ my ass all day for your kid’s party, I deserve it,” Tommy said with a smirk. 

“Come on, Indi, the girls should be here soon, let me help you with the food,” Frank insisted, linking her arm with his and leading her away from the other men. 

Once the table outside was set and the string lights switched on, Frank poured them both a drink as they waited. The other three men had wandered into the kitchen with Bill complaining about a sports team. 

Frank excused himself and Bill to change, claiming he had set something out for them specifically for tonight. Tommy stepped outside to smoke, leaving Joel and Indi standing in the kitchen, looking at each other as she leaned on the counter and he leaned on the fridge directly in front of her. 

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, eyes slowly traveling the length of her form, twice for emphasis. 

“Thank you, baby,” she responded, reaching out to hold his hand. “You always look extra dangerous in black, you know that? Makes it so hard to focus on anything besides how good you look and how wet I am,” she added, trailing her fingers up his wrist and arm, feeling his muscles tense from her words.

“Fuck, baby, don’t start,” he muttered, pulling her to his chest, bringing his hand to hold the back of her neck and tilt her head up to meet his heated gaze. 

“I’m just saying, you look really good right now,” she continued to tease him with naughty words and light touches, “Could stick it in right now, no resistance, all for you, Joel.”

“Darlin’, I’m not opposed to takin’ you back out to that barn and fuckin’ you in the hay,” he warned, leaning down to kiss her cheek, knowing she’d want her lipstick to last until after dinner. 

“Hmm, gonna let me ride you? Show those horses how it’s done?” she smirked, breaking out into laughter when Joel arched his brow at her with his own amused little grin.

“I’m not the one who gets shy when they’re lookin’,” he teased, reaching around to grab a handful of her ass, making her giggle more. 

“Hey! Keep it PG-13, kids are here, man…fuckin’ animals,” Tommy said with a lighthearted scoff at the end, coming in through the backdoor with his phone in his hand. 

He rolled his eyes, but removed his hands, unwilling to deal with both Tommy’s and Ellie’s teasing at his expense when it came to being caught touching on his wife. Indi never minded their jokes, but Joel’s preference was being able to grab and touch her without some sarcastic comment coming up from behind him. 

“I’m home!” Ellie’s voice rang through the small house. 

“Kitchen!” Frank called back, coming down the stairs. 

“He- oh! Hi, what are you guys doing here?” she asked, startled by the amount of people in the room.

“Hungry?” Indi asked, greeting her with a hug and a kiss on the head. 

“Yeah, definitely, uh you guys remember Dina, right?” she asked, motioning to the young woman behind her. 

“Of course! Kicked my ass at darts, how could I forget?” Tommy spoke, greeting the other girl warmly with a hug. 

Once outside, Ellie was obviously surprised by how wide her eyes were and how her mouth was hanging open as Indi led them to the waiting table. She let the girls check out the decorations, knowing Tommy and JOel would appreciate it while she went back to the truck to collect Ellie’s presents. 

“This has been amazing! Thank you guys!” Ellie said, beaming the entire meal, her smile brighter and brighter even through the final course, a hot fudge sundae with a lit candle next to the cherry.

The group sat outside well into the night, Ellie taking Dina around the farm after taking what felt like a million pictures on their phones in front of the backdrop they’d set up. The adults remained at the table, talking and drinking.

“Come on, Ellie, time to open your presents!” Joel hollered across the yard at the girls who’d been checking out the garden. 

“You got me a present?!” she gasped, bounding back over to the table.

“Of course we did, we just knew not to keep ‘em here so you wouldn’t go snoopin and spoil the surprise like last time’,” Bill said, handing her a small wrapped package. 

“Hey, that was an accident,” she tried to argue, but her guilty smile gave it away.

“So you accidentally came into our bedroom and accidentally opened the suitcase under the bed?” Frank questioned with an arched brow.

She just giggled in response, tearing into the wrapping paper with excitement. As they watched her open the small pile of gifts, Joel slipped his hand into Indi’s lap, finding her fingers and giving them a soft squeeze. She smiled at him, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly. He brought an arm around her, sliding her chair closer to his so that she could lean into him. The moment itself was definitely one he would keep close to him, the people he cared about the most gathered together, Ellie’s blinding smile as she opened her presents, and his dream of a wife cuddled up under his arm. It was a beautiful moment. It was his life now for the most part and he couldn’t have asked for better. 

“I love you,” he said into the crown of her head.

“I love you too, always,” she said, looking up at him with pure adoration and happiness. 

[tightjeansjavi]

𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐫.𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫?

Part 2: “Chains and Whips Excite Me”

Joel Miller x f! reader NSFW 🔞

A/N: so originally I was not going to write a part 2 to this little slice of sub! Joel heaven but then the idea struck me today so I was like fuck it! Let’s roll with it. I gotta say, this is beyond filthy. The end has SO much fluff it’s got me giggling and kicking my feet like a little girl. Enjoy! 🫶🏻

~word count: 6.1k~

Summary: Joel really enjoyed the last time you took control so much, that he wants you to do it again. This time, with the proper tools.

Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, sub/switch! Joel!, dom/switch reader, consensual power play, use of a safe word, BDSM, bondage, whip play, collar play, edging, teasing, praise kink, handcuffs, Joel doesn’t like being a sub but he does it for you, till the cuffs snap of course, reader calls Joel a good boy, dominatrix vibe till the cuffs snap, pussy eating, unprotected p in v, (wrap it kids) rough consensual sex, light choking, overstimulation, lots of filth, sex toys, very short game of cat and mouse, consent, heavy after care, Joel feels bad for overstimulating you, all the feels, no angst, just a whole lot of debauchery, fluff at the end with you, Joel and Ellie the next morning (+18), NSFW MINORS DNI!

“Joel? Baby? Where the actual fuck are you taking me?” Your eyes were blindfolded with a thick piece of fabric but you were acutely aware of your lover's close proximity to you. His hands were at your waist, guiding you protectively to…well, wherever the hell he was taking you.

“Easy now, sugar. We’re almost there.” His lips were at the shell of your ear and his warm Texas drawl sent shivers down your spine.

“This isn’t where you murder me..right?” You nervously giggled.

“What? Ain’t no way—you’re bein’ silly baby. Why on earth would I do somethin’ like that?” He responded incredulously.

“Okay okay. I’m just checking because you brought me god no’s where. Y’know, I think it was just a logical thing for me to ask.”

Joel chuckled deeply, his warmth breath tickling the sensitive skin below your ear. “Yeah well trust me, baby. You’re gonna love where I brought you.” He reassured you.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that Miller.”

Joel had grasped your hips firmly in his calloused hands, yanking you back against his chest before he took one hand and brought it around your face and untied the makeshift blindfold. “Surprise.” He whispered, a grin spreading across his lips.

You blinked a few times as your eyes readjusted to the lighting and after a few seconds you realized he had brought you to an abandoned mall. Your eyes drifted up to the faded moss covered sign that read Spencer's.

“Oh my god, you’re joking right?” You said in disbelief as you turned and looked over your shoulder at your grinning man. “Joel, you know what this place is right?”

“Do I know what this place is? Honey, I’m old but I ain’t that old. I had a girlfriend back in highschool that dragged me to this place before prom night. She wore one of those candy bras and matching thongs. She wanted to put me in a collar and I said absolutely fuckin’ not.” He chuckled as he watched your reaction.

“Are you purposely bringing up your ex-girlfriend from highschool to make me jealous? You remember what happened the last time I got jealous?” You responded with a light giggle.

“Oh baby, do I remember? Fuck yeah I do. Why the hell do ya think I brought ya out here in the first place?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in your direction before he gave you a firm nudge forward.

“You sly fucking dog. You want me to tie you up again?” You gave him a playful glare as he nudged you forward into the store that took you right on back to the early 2000’s.

“Yeah baby, I do. Figured it would be way more fun if you had the proper tools y’know?” He followed closely behind, stepping over moth eaten shirts and moldy backpacks. You both seemingly knew that what you were looking for was in the far back of the store.

Your eyes zoned in on the bondage section immediately and Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes when you picked up a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and twirled them playfully around your finger. “How do you feel about these, big boy?”

“Jesus Christ. Do they really gotta be pink? I swear to god if Tommy—or god forbid Ellie finds ‘em, I might actually have to kill ya after all sweet cheeks.”

“Baby, you can use them on me too y’know? I don’t think we have to worry about your brother or adopted daughter finding our stuff Joel. Relax, honey.” You shot him a playful wink.

Joel grumbled under his breath, saying something unintelligible as he crossed his arms over his chest with a huff.

You had picked up a black riding crop that had a red heart stitched on the faux leather. You couldn’t help but teasingly drag the crop across his chest with a giggle. “What about this baby? You into me whipping you a little?” You looked up at him, lashes fluttering as you lightly tapped the crop against his bulging bicep.

“How can I say no when you’re lookin’ at me with those goddamn eyes?” He uncrossed his arms from his chest, bringing his thumb and forefinger against your smooth chin before he stole a quick kiss.

“Mhm these eyes that make any man go weak in the knees, but especially my man.” You hummed against his lips, kissing him back sweetly before slipping the crop into his hands along with the pink fluffy handcuffs.

“Look, my only request is that you don’t get any nipple clamps…well, unless you wanna use them on you, and please god nothing that would hurt my balls.”

“Oh baby, you’re so cute. You’re not down for a little nipple play?” You were already reaching for a packaged pair of nipple clamps as you fluttered your lashes at him once more.

“Fuckin’ hell. Fine, you little minx.” He grumbled.

You blew your man a kiss before tossing the small packaged nipple clamps into his hands. “So, I know you said that you wouldn’t let your ex girlfriend put you in a collar..but what if it were me asking you? Would your answer be different?”

Joel’s mouth went dry as you innocently were holding a black spiked collar that had a metal heart connecting in the middle. He watched as you twirled the chain between your fingers, swinging it back and forth. “I’m really startin’ to regret tellin’ ya that story.” Even though the thought of you yanking him around like a leashed dog, was undeniably turning him on just a bit.

“Are you sure you’re regretting telling me that story baby?” You softly cooed as you stepped towards him. “Because just close your eyes, just for a moment. Now, I want you to picture me handcuffing you to a chair. I want you picturing me putting this collar on you while I slide up and down your thick cock. You can feel every inch of my pussy on you baby. Can you picture that?” You purred and Joel just about folded right then and there.

“Fuck me darlin.’” He rasped out, his voice sounding slightly strained as the images of you riding him deliciously settled into his brain. Your fingers wrapped around the chain, tugging on it so he’s looking up at you. Calling him a good boy—

“We’ll get to that part baby I promise. Now I think we have just about everything I need..is there anything you’d like to grab?”

Joel was already making a b-line for the lingerie section, of course. He loved seeing you naked but god, to see you wearing one of these little numbers just for him? It would surely be the end of him.

You watched in pure amusement as your man grabbed various different lingerie sets. He looked like a kid in a fucking candy shop with how excited he was.

“You’re not wasting any time. Huh cowboy?” You giggled.

“Absolutely fuckin’ not darlin.’ It ain’t everyday I get to see my girl dressed up in lingerie. Man’s fantasy fuckin’ come true.” He moved to the sex toy section, humming to himself as he grabbed a purple wand that was marked as waterproof along with a few packs of batteries that (hopefully) would still work. “Don’t think this comes into any comparison of what my tongue is capable of, but I think we can have a little fun with this honey. It’s waterproof too.” He shot you a wink.

You rolled your eyes playfully at his comment of a vibrator being no match for his tongue. “Yeah? Well, keep eating pussy like a man starved, and there definitely will be no comparison.”

“Ain’t got no reason to not eat your pussy that way, sweet cheeks.” He chuckled as he grabbed a couple bottles of lube and suction cup dildo.

“What the hell are we gonna need lube for Joel?”

“You never know darlin.’ We might find ourselves needin’ it one of these days. Better to be prepared, right?”

“You’re not sticking it in my ass Miller. There’s no fucking way.” You slid your backpack off your shoulder as you packed it filled with the things from the sex store.

“Who the hell said anythin’ about me stickin’ it in your ass?” He grinned at your immediate reaction.

“Oh bullshit. You’re totally fucking bluffing baby.”

Joel just gave you a little shrug as he zipped up his bag. Before leaving the store, and while he wasn’t paying attention, you grabbed a t-shirt that said “I Love My Lesbian Daughter” and stuffed it in your bag. Ellie was going to fucking love this.

The ride back to Jackson was filled to the brim with laughter and sexual tension. Dinner in the mess hall was quick and you and Joel were both relieved that Ellie was going over to Dina’s for the evening. Joel still hadn’t caught onto the fact that his kid was dating Dina but Ellie had told you one night but you swore to her that you wouldn’t tell Joel.

Your man was having a quick, head clearing shower while you placed the folded t-shirt on the end of Ellie’s bed with a little note.

You used the spare bathroom to put on one of the many lingerie sets that Joel had picked out for you. This set was pretty, lacy, and would in no doubt drive Joel up a fucking wall once he saw you in it. The top was a laced up bodice, and the cups barely contained your breasts that were nearly spilling over the top of the fabric. You paired it with the black stockings that had delicate lace that sat at the top of your thighs. You attached the two clips to the garter and surely they were not built to withstand much pressure at all. The matching black thong left little to the imagination as the tooth floss thin fabric sat perfectly between your cheeks.

Heels would have been ideal to finish off this look but you stuck with your usual boots knowing that Joel would enjoy seeing you in them.

As soon as you could hear the water shutting off through the pipes, you quickly grabbed your bag and headed downstairs. You flicked all the lights off, just like the last time and you waited patiently for your man as you made yourself comfortable on one of the kitchen chairs. You gingerly crossed one leg over the other as you lightly twirled the pink fuzzy handcuffs around your finger lazily.

You heard his heavy footsteps padding down the hall and the staircase as he called out your name. When your man finally came into view, you were pleased to see that he was wearing just a robe. You were pleased till you realized it was the fucking robe that one of the mess hall ladies gifted to Joel at last years town Christmas party. She had an enormous crush on your man and after a few too many glasses of spiked eggnog, she had no problem flirting up a storm with him.

“Hey baby.” He rasped as his eyes adjusted to the low lighting. He sucked in a harsh breath when he found you sitting, and wearing his personal favorite choice of lingerie that he had grabbed for you.

“You wore that robe on purpose, didn’t you?” You raised an eyebrow as you leaned forward slightly so he could get a good look at your cleavage nearly spilling out to his greedy eyes.

“What? This old thing? Yeah, Susan gifted it to me, remember?” He grinned as he strode around the table towards the empty chair that wasn’t occupied with you.

“As if I needed to remember the way she flirted your fucking ear off. Sit down, Mr. Miller. Don’t make me ask you twice.”

Joel swallowed the thick lump growing in his throat hard as he slowly sank down onto the chair opposite of yours. “My god, you look so fuckin’ gorgeous right now baby. Jesus Christ. I’m so happy you picked out that one it’s my—”

You cut him off sternly. “Did I fucking say you could talk baby? Don’t think so.” You slowly stood up from your chair, walking the short distance till you were standing between his open thighs. You leaned down, grasping his chin between your fingers. “Are you gonna be a good boy for me baby?”

Joel was itching to touch you already. To grab a handful of your ass and yank you forward so he could bury his face between your two luscious, pillowy breasts and lick every inch of skin that he could reach— “yes baby, of course I’ll be a good boy for you. Before we get into this, I think we should uh—come up with a safe word yeah? Cause if you’re gonna be whippin’ me and shit..” he trailed off as he lifted his warm, dark brown eyes up to gaze upon your pretty face.

You just about folded from his look alone as you ever so slightly tighten your fingers grip around his chin. “A safe word? Yeah, of course baby. We can always use a safe word.”

Joel tapped his fingers along the outside of his thighs, already feeling his cock twitch under the robe. It really took nothing for you to turn him on and he fucking loved it. “Alright darlin’ how about—hmm..Beetlejuice?”

You let out a soft giggle at his suggestion for a safe word and the sound alone was sending blood southwards as he took his lip between his teeth, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “Like..Michael Keaton’s Beetlejuice?”

“Yeah, there a problem with that sugar?”

“No no. That’s perfect actually. I had a huge crush on Beetlejuice at one point.” You giggled, dragging your thumb across Joel’s lower lip as he nibbled on your fingertip gently.

“Oh of course you did.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your response.

You were grabbing a fistful of his dark, salt and pepper speckled hair as you yanked his head back against the chair. “Just remember to not say his name three times baby or else we’ll be in trouble. I catch you rolling your eyes at me again and you’re going to regret it Joel.”

Joel felt a growl crawling up the deep cavern of his throat as he gritted his teeth tightly, feeling his fists clench at his sides. “Yes ma’am” he rasped out.

“Good boy.” You gave him a quick kiss before you were stepping away from him and walked behind his chair, leaning down so your lips were at the shell of his ear. “Arms behind your back baby. Wrists together for me.”

Joel reluctantly brought his arms around the back of the chair, holding his wrists together. “Guess I’m gonna have to get real creative with snappin’ these off, Huh baby?” He chuckled.

“If you manage to snap these off somehow, you can take me any way you want to baby.” You whispered against his ear as you snapped the pink fuzzy cuffs around his wrists and gave them a good tug to be sure they were secure.

“Oh, I am absolutely fuckin’ snappin’ these off at some point honey. Better have your fun while you still can.” He spoke with amusement laced in his tone..which was short lived when he felt your hands untying the knot that held the robe together and exposing his warm, damp skin to your wandering eyes. From the angle you were at, you could see the head of his cock resting against the base of his stomach, leaking in precum.

“Is this turning you already baby?” You cooed softly, letting your lips kiss down the expanse of his exposed neck, greedily sucking on his skin, licking a hot stripe up to his earlobe before you lightly nibbled on it with your teeth.

Joel let out a low rumbled groan as he tilted his head to the side, granting you easier access. He was so used to being the one to kiss on you but god, your lips felt delicious against his warm skin. “Mhm. My cock is aching for you darlin.’”

You reached behind you, grasping the leather hilt of the riding crop and slowly dragged it across his jaw, down his neck, across his chest as it lightly grazed his nipples. The sensation to him was new, and unfamiliar, but he liked it. So much so that he let a low hiss slip past his lips.

His cock instinctively twitched against his stomach and his muscles clenched as the cool leather descended past his navel. He could feel your grin creeping against his skin as you dragged the leather across his leaking tip. You couldn’t help but giggle as his hips bucked up from the feather light touch.

“You think this is fuckin’ funny darlin?’ Teasin’ me like this with that fuckin’ crop? You little minx I swear to god when I break out of these—” his low growl transfixed into a whimper when you brought the crop down swiftly against his inner thigh, stinging his skin from the sensation. You wasted no time to grab his jaw with your free hand and yank his head up so he was forced to look at you. “You shut the fuck up and be a good boy, baby. You got that?” Your eyes narrowed into his.

Joel let out a shuddered breath when he saw how dark your pupils had grown and he let out a low hiss when you brought the crop down on his inner thigh once more before he swiftly nodded. “Yes, baby. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll be a good boy for you.” He pleaded.

Joel being a sub for you was by far the hottest fucking thing he had ever done. You were obsessed with having him at your mercy. To do with him whatever, and however you pleased. You rewarded him with a chaste kiss, slotting your lips together as you took full dominance. As soon as you felt him trying to take control of the kiss, you slapped his thigh with the crop a little harder this time and the leather just barely grazed his balls. He retreated shortly after.

Your tongues tangled together, teeth clashing as you lightly dragged the whip up and down his thick veiny cock. The sensation wasn’t nearly enough for Joel. It was driving him up a wall already and you could sense his frustration brewing deep in his gut. “Baby..” he mumbled against your lips, letting out what sounded like a groan, mixed in with a whimper. “Please don’t tease me anymore honey. I can’t take it much longer. I’m hurtin’ real fuckin’ bad. I need your touch. Your mouth, your pussy. Fuckin’ anythin’, please darlin.’” Joel Miller was begging you to touch him.

You grinned against his lips, parting from the kiss slightly so you could watch his face, see his brows furrowed and his eyes darken. You just barely kissed him now, tilting your head back slightly when he tried to properly kiss you once more. “Yeah baby? You want my touch that fucking bad? Huh pretty boy?” You cooed, letting your free hand slowly dip down his chest, navel, dragging your fingers along his taut skin that clenched inwards from the contact.

Joel let out a deep growl as he tugged harshly on the handcuffs secured around his wrists. The desire to have some sense of control was driving him mad as he narrowed his eyes at you. “I’m fuckin’ begging you to touch me darlin.’ Please do somethin’ before I lose my goddamn mind over here.”

You slowly wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, giving him a firm tug before you dragged your thumb across his ruddy head, collecting the leaking precum from the tip. You gave his cock a few more firm tugs before you leaned down over his shoulder, and spit over his cock. Your saliva trailed past your soft lips and down his happy trail and cock. You used your saliva as lubricant as you continued to slowly pump your fist around him.

Joel’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull when he watched you filthily spit over his cock. You were something fucking else entirely and his brain was feeling like a goddamn scrambled egg. “Shit. Yeah baby, that’s it. Fuck. Can I get your sweet mouth too? You always suck my cock so well—”

“Who the fuck is running this show huh? You, or me, Miller?” You squeezed his cock slightly, scraping your nails across the veiny skin.

“Jesus fuck—you are baby. It’s your show. Not mine.” He hissed.

“That’s right. It’s my show. Don’t even fucking think about cumming either. You’re not allowed to till I fucking say.”

“Yes, baby.” He nearly whimpered when you dragged your thumb across his sensitive head as he jutted his hips into your hand desperately.

When he could no longer feel your touch around his aching cock, he tugged on the restraints once more as he watched you ever so casually release your grip around him and walk away from his chair.

“Where the fuck are you goin’ now? I swear to god darlin’ if you even think about leavin’ me down here like this I’m gonna make you regret it.” He tugged on the restraints again, trying to get a feel for if these things were cheaply made or not.

You didn’t respond as you bent down. Ass on full display as you reached into your backpack, pulling out the collar and attached chain. You swung the chain around in a tight circle, using your free hand to pull the thin fabric covering your pussy to the side, revealing your slick cunt to him as you faced him.

Joel’s jaw went slack at the sight of you. Your pussy in his direct view, looking soft and wet for him. His mouth watered at the sight and he swore he had drool dribbling down his chin. “Fuck me. You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby. Is your pretty little pussy wet for me? I bet she is. I bet she’s fuckin’ drippin’ right now. Can I have a taste? Please?”

You slowly dragged your panties down over your thighs and ankles, casually tossing the fabric at him with a giggle before you walked over to him. Your boots were heavy along the old hardwood and you slowly stopped between his thighs, unclasping the collar before you fastened it around his neck. You gave the chain attached to the collar a firm tug, yanking his head towards you. “You wanna have a taste of my pussy baby? That’s what you really want? Huh, pretty boy?”

Joel was not expecting his body to be so willingly responsive to the leather fastened around his neck. Nor did he expect the groan to be elicited past his lips when you tugged on the chain. “Please, pretty girl. Let me have a taste of your pussy. Let me bury my head between your thighs and drink you dry.”

You propped your one boot clad foot right between his thighs, feeling his body jolt slightly from how close your boot had gotten to his dick. You grabbed ahold of his shoulder with your free hand as you held yourself as close to his face as you physically could. You yanked on the chain once more, pulling his face to your soaked cunt.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours as he nuzzled his face between your thighs, nipping at the soft flesh before he buried his face deep into your cunt. He could already feel his back aching from the angle he was forced into but did he care? Not one fucking bit. His nose was firmly pressed into your pubic bone as he lapped frantically at you. His tongue swirled around your clit while the sharp stubble on his jaw was scraping at your inner thighs. You let out a low moan as you tightened your grip around the chain. “Fuck. That’s it baby. You’re being such a good boy for me right now. Mouth full of my fucking pussy. Eating me like a man starved.”

Your free hand that was gripped around his shoulder found purchase in his hair, tugging at the roots tightly. Your nails lightly scraped his scalp as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly on the little bud. The sounds he made were nothing short of obscene and filthy. Joel let out a hum against your pussy, driving his face deeper into your folds as you began to rock your hips into his face.

“You taste so fuckin’ sweet baby. Sweetest taste a man could ever dream of consumin.’ He mumbled, mouth full of your pussy. “She’s so needy for me baby. You gonna cum for me? I know you’re close. C’mon my pretty girl. Cum all over my fuckin’ face.” He growled. Joel desperately wished that his hands weren’t restrained right now just so he could grab your ass and drive your pussy deeper into his eager mouth. Alas, he was still biding his time.

You were falling apart above him. Stuttering over your words as filth spilt from your parted lips. If anyone were to walk in on your debauchery, you both surely would be getting a one way ticket straight to hell. Your hips desperately bucked into his face as you chased your impending orgasm. Your stomach grew taught and tight as you cried out his name. “Yes! Fuck. Don’t stop, Joel! Don’t you dare fucking stop!”

Joel could feel himself becoming a little light headed as he wasn’t taking breaths in between. He could feel stars pricking behind his closed eyes but he didn’t stop till you were spasming above him and cumming along his tongue. He drank up every last drop before your fingers released their tight grip on his hair and he was finally able to take in a lungful of air. His entire face, down to his beard and chin were coated in your slick. His breaths were heavy as your sex stained gaze fell upon his face between your thighs.

“Holy fucking shit Joel. I thought I was about to fucking pass out.” You let your free hand drop down to his jaw, gathering up a bit of slick along his chin before you brought your thumb up to his parted lips. You watched as he wrapped his lips around your thumb nail, nibbling on it with hooded eyes.

“You and me both, baby. I could barely fuckin’ breathe. Started seein’ stars behind my eyes and everythin.’ Your sweet little pussy is just that fuckin’ good.” He spoke breathlessly, revealing a boyish grin that would make a rare appearance every now and then.

“You were such a good boy for me baby. I’m going to reward you, okay?” You slipped your thumb from between his lips and yanked on the chain, bringing his lips up to your mouth where you could taste yourself on them as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue around yours before you were firmly pushing him back down into the chair.

Joel felt his throat go dry as you slowly lowered yourself into his lap, planting your feet on either side of his hips and he yanked at the restraints once more. He could tell that the cheap metal was slowly becoming pliable, bendable and it would only be a matter of time before he would be snapping those stupid pink fuzzy cuffs off. “I wish I could touch you so fuckin’ bad right now baby. Just wanna wrap my arms around ya and pound into that sweet little fuckin’ pussy.”

You both let out a low hiss when you had grabbed ahold of the base of his cock, dragging his tip across your slick folds as you rolled your hips against his. “Patience, pretty boy. I know how badly you want to fuck me. I’m aching for your cock Joel. Just want to feel you stretch me open..” you moaned wantonly, yanking on the chain so his face was close to yours. “C’mon and be a good boy. Tell me how bad you want my pussy, Joel. Tell me.”

A low growl was elicited from deep within his chest as you rocked your hips into his at a deliciously, agonizing slow pace. “I want your pussy so fuckin’ bad darlin.’ Only ever have wanted your pussy. She’s all fuckin’ mine.”

You slipped the head of his cock past your slick folds as you finally sank down onto him to the hilt. Your warm walls immediately clenched around him as he filled you up to the fucking brim. “All yours, Joel. All fucking yours Mr. Miller.” You moaned as you slowly rose up and down on his cock, rolling your hips as you rode him.

“That’s right baby. You’re all fuckin’ mine and I’m all fuckin’ yours.” He groaned deeply, eyes flirting down to watch the way you would hug his cock each time you rose and fell above him. He loved watching the way he would disappear inside of you and the way your thighs were already quivering. “Taking my cock so well darlin.’ You always grip me so fuckin’ tight. So pretty, so perfect for me.” He bucked his hips up into yours causing your lips to part as you let out an unexpecting gasp from the motion.

“Oh, fuck. Yes baby. You always fill me up so fuckin’ well Joel. I love you, I love your cock. Such a good boy for me.”

Joel thrusted his hips up into yours once more as he tugged on the restraints hard. From the force of his tugging, and harsh thrust of his hips, the cuffs suddenly snapped with a loud pop as they clattered to the ground.

You were already scrambling off of his cock when you heard the cuffs snap and you didn’t even get far from the chair before he was grabbing your wrist and yanking you firmly against his chest. The collar around his neck was unclasped and thrown onto the kitchen table as his hand found purchase around your throat. “Now, now. Where the hell do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart? Not so fuckin’ fast baby. Told you I was gonna break out of those stupid fuckin’ things.” He tsked under his breath as he used his free hand to wrap around your middle and pull you back down into his lap at his mercy.

“How the fuck did you even break out of those huh? They were on fucking tight!” You grumbled.

“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter how I did it. Don’t ask anymore fuckin’ questions. Got it? Be a good fuckin’ girl for me and get back on my cock. You think I was done with ya or somethin?’” He growled against the side of your head, taking in a deep inhale of your natural scent mixed in with vanilla shampoo.

You took your lip between your teeth as you grabbed ahold of his cock once more, sinking down onto him. Your thighs were spread across his lap, feet on either side of his thighs as he held you in place. He filled you up even more if that was even possible. This angle had you feeling like you were being stretched to your limits as he bucked his hips up into you, feeling his balls slapping against your skin.

His arm stayed firmly wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his chest as he fucked into you at a harsh pace, exerting all his energy into making you scream ontop of him. His hand that was wrapped around your throat, dropped to the kitchen table as he grasped the leather whip and wasted no time to continuously slap it against your swollen, puffy clit.

“You gonna fuckin’ cum all over my cock like a good fuckin’ girl baby?” He grunted against your hair, tapping the whip faster against your clit as he forcefully pulled your hips down on him as he continued to harshly thrust into you.

Your moans were turning into choked sobs as the sensation was becoming too much, too overwhelming and the safe word was on the tip of your tongue but you struggled to get the words out. “Joel—J-J-Joel baby I—can’t”

Joel’s ears had zoned in attentively on your sobs as he tried to decipher if they were sobs of pleasure, or if it had become too much and when you let out a strangled cry, his heart snapped and he immediately stopped, gently slipping you off his cock and tossed the whip aside, cradling you protectively against his chest. “Shh..shh..baby. Hey, breathe baby. You’re okay. You’re okay. I got you honey. Deep breaths for me, okay? I got you. You’re safe.” He whispered.

Your entire body was trembling around him as you continued to sob, clutching yourself around him like a koala.

“My sweet girl..m’so sorry. Why didn’t you use the safe word?” He spoke softly as he kissed the top of your head before gently grasping your face in his warm palms, wiping away your hot tears.

“I—I tried to say it but it was..it was too much.” You whimpered.

“Shh. I know, baby. I got you. M’sorry I didn’t stop sooner. You’re okay now. Safe here in my arms. I got you.” He continued to hold you till your body had seemingly recovered and had gone slack in his grip. He wrapped your legs around his waist gently before he lifted you up and carried you upstairs.

The rest of the evening you spent in the tub with your back resting against Joel’s chest as he took care of you. His movements were gentle, attentive and soft. He hummed against your ear as he gently washed between your thighs. He wrapped you in a fluffy towel, applied lotion to your legs before he dressed you in one of his T-shirts and boxers to sleep in. He carried you to bed, letting you be the little spoon as he held you close to him.

Sometime in the night, Ellie had come home with Dina to grab her stash of weed. The two girls were mortified to say the least when they found the sex toys scattered along the floor in the entryway. Thank god for the booze in their system as they headed upstairs, hands interlocked and girlish giggles slipping past their lips.

Dina was the first to find the t-shirt and she held it up for Ellie to see as she grabbed her jar of joints. “Hey, El? Which one of your parents got you this shirt, you think?”

Ellie turned her focus on the white tee that her girlfriend was holding up and she couldn’t contain her giggles. “I Love My Lesbian Daughter. Yeah, my mom 100% is the one who got that for me. She’s so fuckin’ rad. My dad would totally never. He doesn’t even have a clue about us babe.”

“I literally want one of these shirts. We’ll have to ask her where she got it.” Dina said with a grin, tossing the shirt to her girlfriend who caught it with ease.

“I have a sneaking suspicion that they were at fucking sex shop or something.”

“Chains and whips must really get your parents going, huh?” Dina teased.

“Oh my god, gross! I do not need those images in my head Di!” Ellie giggled, stuffing the shirt in her bag.

The next morning at breakfast, Joel was complaining about his back as usual and your thighs were absolutely killing you. Joel hadn’t even noticed the shirt his kid was wearing when she came through the front door with Dina in tow.

“Hey kiddo, how was your night?” Joel asked his daughter as she kissed his cheek and gave him a side hug.

“Pretty good. Although, Dina and I stopped by at like midnight or so and we found yours and moms uh..”

“Oh god.” You and Joel both said out loud at the same time.

“It’s cool you guys! We just thought it was super fucking funny!” Ellie said with a grin as she stuffed her face with fresh pancakes.

Joel scrubbed a hand over his face with a deep sigh before taking a long sip of his coffee. His eyes narrowed in on his kid’s shirt and he nearly choked on his sip of coffee. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“Oh, this? Mom got it for me!” Ellie proudly stated.

Joel looked between his daughter, and you before he smiled over the rim of his mug. “Yeah? Well, I think your mom is gonna have to get your old man one as well.”

Tag List: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @userpedros @pedgeitopascal @last-girl @korynnekorynne @yazsos @777-wonders @lovers-liability @loquaciousferret @kirsteng42 @dinsdjrn @myrealmofchaos

[ascendingaeons]

On Set and Storms

“That's something every islander knows—there's always going to be another hurricane. Another storm. Everything buried will surface again, and everything you thought would last forever will come down eventually. But you rebuild. You dredge. You keep moving, keep adding new. That's how we go on living.”

– Roseanna M. White - “Yesterday's Tides”

“You can dance in the storm. Don't wait for the rain to be over before because it might take too long. You can can do it now. Wherever you are, right now, you can start, right now; this very moment.”

– Israelmore Ayivor

I grew up in South Texas where we were used to hurricanes. To this day, one of the most magical things I’ve ever experienced is standing outside when the eye has passed over me. There is such raw power and majesty to storms. They are terrifying and destructive but can impart great wisdom. As a Kemetic, I find myself closer to Set during storms and actively attempt to listen. Hurricane Harvey was one of the most terrible to hit the Coastal Bend in decades. I prayed to Set in the eye of that storm, before we lost power and I learned what had happened to Houston. I stood outside with arms outstretched, honoring His Sekhem and the Majesty of His natural domain. Suddenly a gust of wind blew an updraft beneath me. I felt validated and listened to. I went back inside and we lost power soon after. The Texas grid didn't get restored for another eight days. I felt Set’s presence in the storm and in the aftermath, destructive and harsh… but encouraging. “You will survive this. You have survived much worse with far less at your disposal.” When I would talk about hurricanes this way people would quickly become upset. They fail to see how a hurricane can be anything but terrible and I beg to differ. Storms disrupt our lives but teach us that we can rebuild. In the moment of impact, are we happy with the destruction? Absolutely not. Loss teaches us what we are capable of living with, as well as what we can live without. Storms are the immune system of the Earth, their purpose being to restore equilibrium on a large scale. Set is the storm that rends the dead bark and branches off of the Holy Sycamore. He does the same for us. By stripping away the excessive and superfluous, Set brings us closer to our inner strength and core values. I’ve often heard Set being associated with the ego but, in my experience, He takes a very active part in facilitating ego death during the Dark Night of the Soul. I’ve experienced this several times and I can safely say when all other guides have stepped away, I am still blanketed in Set’s Presence. He stands nearby, as a silent but distant sentinel. His Presence is enough to let me know I will be okay. Storms have a way of mirroring the Shadow archetype, forcing us to face our demons. We might not know when they will begin or end, but we do know that they are temporary. That disruption is sometimes exactly what we need and the more we fight it, the more we resist the growth that might lead us to the best chapter in life we’ve ever had. Experience has shown me that we can survive far more than we give ourselves credit for. Sometimes you have to Embrace Life.

Dua Set!

Image depicts a thunderstorm over the Sultan Hassan Mosque in Cairo, Egypt

[suzuki-ecstar]

cota photo dump pt. 1

just remembered that this is allegedly a motogp blog and i should probably share the photos i took at cota!

i'm a big film photography nerd, so of course i had to bring my camera to the race. realistically, i wasn't going to get good pictures of the bikes—too many fences in the way, no zoom lens, etc. instead, i tried to focus on the human element and my experience at the track.

i hope these are somewhat interesting to you guys, here goes -

the observatory tower is by far the most recognizable landmark at the track. cota is a huge place with rollercoaster rides and an amphitheater, but wherever you go, you can always see the tower looming in the distance.

don't have much to say here other than the fact i was pleasantly surprised that my grandpa-like reflexes + 40-year-old camera timed this shot correctly. i like how the bike is framed inside the marshal's booth :)

on saturday, there was a q&a session that was sparsely attended, so i got these close-ups of the riders (apologies for the blurriness—that’s film babeyy)

it was kinda funny the way the interviewer kept asking them about texas barbecue and all the riders were like "...i'm eating oatmeal and plain pasta."

zarco brought up the fact that he was unhappy about the increased number of fan events at the fan event, which honestly, fair play to him. and fabio said he hopes fans will stop asking him for his gear, bc he likes to break in his gloves over the course of the season and he can't do that when he’s giving them away 😔

i can't remember much else about the q&a other than the riders blatantly pandering (namedropping mcdonald's, etc) and us gobbling it up.

sadly, both jorge and joan were scheduled to attend but ended up dropping out.

once quali or race sessions have finished for the day, it clears out pretty quickly. between the big texas clouds in the background and the empty facilities, cota after hours is half-peaceful, half-haunting. i wandered around taking pictures until the staff (politely) kicked me out.

anyways that’s all the photos i’ve edited so far, i’ll make a separate post for sunday’s podium celebrations.

[leanbeefpattysimp3]

Hello to all of the baki fandom on here! I’m @leanbeefpattysimp3 but you can call me Bug instead. I’m not new to the fandom nor Tumblr (majority of us had that cringe middle school emo phase and found this app💀) but I’m new to the fandom on here so this will be fun learning about! Which brings me to why I made this account, so I’ve been putting together this Baki oc and the story for about a few months and I wanted to share it! Everyone meet my oc, the adopted daughter of Doppo Orochi, Solomon Orochi!

Here’s the description and background of this feral mf.

Description

19 years old

6’2 (long legged spider mf, Katsumi still argues he’s taller when he’s really not)

265 lbs (this bitch packed with muscle, beefy fr)

Caucasian Decent, half American and half Ossetian (we’ve got another cracker besides Eminem Hanma)

Brown hair but has dyed blonde streaks in it(her hair changes overtime cause I can’t make up my mind on how I want the blonde)

Quite the firecracker for someone of her background and stature, you normally don’t see a big person get the zoomies like a smaller one, a huge ass gremlin if you will. She’s the kind who will make people uncomfortable in public on purpose (not in a bad way more like Impractical Jokers).

She’s definitely her father’s child, if she’s fighting she’s gonna keep fighting till either her opponent is no longer able to fight back or she flat out dies. Which does make Doppo nervous, even if she is a fighter, that’s his little girl.

She has multiple surgery scars, 3 most prominent on her knees and abdomen, she had to get her kneecaps fixed due to them shattering during one of her MMA fights, and had to have emergency surgery on her intestine because it ruptured during that same fight, however the mf still won cause “Momma didn’t raise no bitch”.

Background

Solomon was adopted by Doppo and Natsue when she was 2 months old, Doppo was friends with an American heavyweight martial arts champion and his Ossetian wife who had moved to Japan, however that would come to a short end when the wife went crazy and killed the husband and herself, leaving behind Solomon, who Doppo and Natsue decided to take in and call their own. 3 years later they adopted Katsumi, and from then on the two became inseparable, one always going wherever the other one went, doctor’s appointments, school trips, everywhere and anywhere they always wanted to go together.

When Doppo starts teaching Katsumi Shinshinkai Karate, he decides to start teaching Solomon as well cause “Hell why not?”. To his surprise she catches on more quickly than Katsumi, and is even kicking Katsumi’s ass when they spar (which Natsue doesn’t know how to feel about cause her kids are kicking each other’s asses and her husband is laughing at it). Solomon went to school with Hanayama, and the two started talking, and eventually dating. Katsumi and Solomon get older, stronger of course, and by the time Katsumi is 18 and Solomon is 16, they’re basically pros. However, Sol was to learn more than just Shinshinkai Karate, and asks her father if she can travel to her biological parents motherland, America(🦅distant eagle screech) and learn MMA style fighting , which he thought about for awhile, his little girl traveling thousands of miles away from home without him and the rest of the family, but ultimately decides that with how amazing her fighting and strength has gotten, it would be great for her fighting abilities. Solomon tells Hanayama that she’s about to leave for a few years, so they ultimately decide to break up, knowing things wouldn’t work if she’s thousands of miles away (at this time they’re 16, still quite young).

Solomon gets sent off to America, but before then her father gets in contact with the best of the best MMA fighters and trainers so she can get the best training. She’s expecting to go to one of the cool fancy states like California or New York, however Doppo thought it would be funny to send her to Texas of all places from the things he’s heard about from there. So here she is, a person of Caucasian descent who doesn’t know a lick of English besides introducing herself and the word “Chicken” (she saw it on an ad back home about food) which everyone who she became friends with or taught her thought was quite funny, a white girl who never learned much English. She did eventually learn it “fluently” during her stay, however she spoke it with quite the interesting accent since everyone who taught her had southern accents ( I just want you to try to imagine a Japanese accent that has southern twang to it, it’s quite funny)

She ended up staying and training for 3 years and was given the title “World’s Strongest Woman” at just 18 year old after she had become the heavyweight MMA champion in America and scoring 2100lbs in the 2000lbs club for the International Powerlifting Federation. She was one of the most powerful fighters in America until she got a call from her mother saying her father had almost died from a fight with a man named Yuujiro Hanma (dirty nasty crusty man-thing), and which terrified her more than anything, immediately after the call she wanted to go back home to her family and immediately started packing. She ends up coming back in time for the Maximum Tournament, but not in time to compete in it. Even with being upset she can’t compete, she does get excited about watching two specific fighters during the matchups, Jack Hanma and Kaioh Retsu.

So since we’ve gotten to this point I’ll start writing the main story on her and such, if you’d like you can also request types of stories on her and head-cannons and if y’all want to can ask for different ships, and whoever wants to can use her in other Baki stories n such, just make sure to credit me for her! I’ll also post more artwork I’ve made of her and y’all can request artwork as well!

[oceansprompts]

𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕪'𝕤 𝕢𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤

PART 6. . . . adjusted for general use. . . . change as needed for usage

She’s a crazy. She’s a phony. But she’s a real phony. Know what I mean, kid?

Yeah, I know what you mean. Thanks. Thanks a lot.

Oh why don’t you behave?

Cash it in? Are you kidding? What time is it?

You don’t understand. You’re under indictment. If they catch you jumping bail; they’ll lock you up and throw away the key.

Don’t be ridiculous, darling. By the day after tomorrow, I’ll be married to the future president. And that’ll give me diplomatic immunity or something.

Did he bring it in person, or was it... just there, shoved under the door?

Hand me my purse, will you, darling? A girl can’t read that sort of thing... with …. Without her lipstick.

You read it to me, will you, darling? I don’t think I can quite...bear...

Are you sure you want me to?

Well, at least he’s honest. It’s kind of touching.

He says he’s a coward.

So he’s not a regular rat or even a super rat. He’s just a scared little mouse, that’s all.

Please, darling, don’t sit there looking at me like that. I’m going, and that’s all there is to it.

Nobody has any intention of prosecuting me. To begin with, they don’t have a ghost of a chance.

Even so this town’s finished for me... at least for a while.

I’ll tell you what you do for me, darling. When you get back to town, I want you to call up the New York times or whoever you call. I want you to mail me a list of the 50 richest men !

I’m not going to let you do this.

You’re not going to let me?

I’m in love with you.

So what? So plenty! I love you. You belong to me.

No. people don’t belong to people.

I’m not going to let anyone put me in a cage.

I don’t want to put you in a cage! I want to love you!

I don’t know who I am! We’re a couple of no-name slobs.

We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don’t even belong to each other.

This ought to be the right kind place for a tough guy like you—garbage cans, rats galore. Scram! I said take off! Beat it!

You know what’s wrong with you, miss whoever-you-are?

You’re chicken. You got no guts.

You’re afraid to stick out your chin and say, “o.k., life’s a fact.”

People do fall in love. People do belong to each other, because that’s the only chance anybody’s got for real happiness.

You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing.

And you’re terrified somebody’s going to stick you in a cage.

You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing. And you’re terrified somebody’s going to stick you in a cage.

And you’re terrified somebody’s going to stick you in a cage. Well, baby, you’re already in that cage.

Well, baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself.

Well, baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somaliland. It’s wherever you go.

It's wherever you go.

Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.

I’ve been carrying this thing around for months. I don’t want it anymore.

[chaotic-archaeologist]

I'm sorry for asking you for how to find some one. it was late at night and I wasn't thinking well. I'm sorry to put it on you. I just knew in any anthropology field people know how to look up family trees and stuff. I've just kept loosing family these past few years and my brain isn't good late at night.

I appreciate that you recognize that the way you asked your questions didn't come off quite the way you intended. My intention is for this blog to be a learning space, and so I'm going to do my best to answer your question in this response in good faith.

The summary of your questions (at least the way I read it) is: with the rise of antisemitism, I'm worried for the safety of any potentially unknown Jewish family members I might have. How can I find them through genealogical records?

I get where you're coming from in asking this question. Antisemitism is real, it is scary, and you are right to be worried. However, there are appropriate and inappropriate ways to show your concern. If I had a non-Jew (family member or not) reach out to me in this way, my response would be something like this:

Respectfully, it's nice that you're worried for my safety, but where were you when my synagogue was the victim of three separate hate crimes during the Trump era? Where were you when there was the shooting at that synagogue in Texas? Why are you reaching out now to tell me you're worried? I know it's a problem—I've known for years. Your concern is functionally meaningless unless you act on it. What are you going to do to support your local Jewish community? What are you going to do the next time you see someone do/say something antisemitic? What are you doing to actually educate yourself on the reality of antisemitism? What can do to help me address the antisemitism in my life?

I say all of this politely, because this is a safe environment and you are learning, so please don't mistake this as hostility. It's just the blunt truth. Reaching out to a Jewish person to say you're concerned about antisemitism is like reaching out to a Black person to tell them you're worried about racism.

If you want to get in touch with this part of your family, do it because you're curious about your relations and you want to make a connection. Plenty of people find out about unknown relatives through a DNA test, and your situation isn't that unusual, especially if you're looking for connection after losing relatives. They may or may not be receptive to you making contact, and that is their decision, just like it is yours to seek them out in the first place.

Keep your worries about antisemitism to yourself unless they purposefully bring it up. In the meantime, work to educate yourself on antisemitism wherever you live—do not expect Jewish people to be your teachers.

Finally, in your original question you ask for genealogy resources that aren't ancestry because ancestry is run by Mormons. This is a popular misconception. Ancestry.com is not affiliated with the Mormon church. Here's an article that provides a rundown of the company's history. There are also ethical concerns arising about DNA and information ownership. Here's a snopes article about how Ancestry handles your data.

Honestly, I use ancestry all the time. Is it sometimes problematic? Yes, but I try to engage with it in ways that satisfy my own ethical boundaries. You can feel free to do the same, or not. It's up to you.

I think we've all said things late at night that we wince at in the light of day—I certainly have. You asked your question with good intentions, and I'm trying to honor that with my response. I'd like everyone to be kind in the replies and notes. There are no such thing as bad questions, just inappropriate times/places to ask them. This blog is a place where questions can be asked without judgement.

-Reid