#every year it's the the same and i can't do it

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. I'm definitely not doing exactly the same premise but this was my jumping off point 😊

Part Two! ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[capquinn]

ok we've been losing our minds about seeing quinn with kids but imagine him losing his mind seeing you with kids and babies. they're just so naturally drawn to you, smiling and giggling at you. when it's time to leave the kids pout, the babies cry and refuse to let go of you. it breaks his heart a little, but then he thinks about how you have that effect on kids and his heart is just so full and warm. he can't stop smiling thinking about how great of a mom you're going to be one day

It’s something Quinn’s been noticing more and more — how babies and kids always seem to be drawn to you, like there’s some invisible pull. He sees it everywhere, little moments that only fuel the quiet ache he’s been carrying, a bad case of baby fever that just keeps getting stronger.

It was a late summer afternoon at his friend’s BBQ, the kind of day where everything felt a little softer around the edges, the air warm and filled with lazy laughter and the smell of grilling food. Quinn was mid-conversation with a few of his buddies when he glanced over and spotted you down on the driveway, a piece of colourful chalk in your hand, showing his friend’s daughter how to draw a flower.

You were laughing, your voice floating over the soft hum of conversation as you patiently guided her tiny hand.

“Like this, see?” you were saying, helping her press the chalk down firmly. “And a little harder here — see how it makes the colour brighter?”

The little girl, determined to get it right, nodded with intense concentration, her face scrunched up in that serious way kids get when they’re trying so hard. She pressed down on the chalk with all her might, the green and purple smudges already staining her fingers. And you, just as focused, knelt beside her, not minding that your knees were getting chalky too.

Quinn couldn’t look away. The sight of you like that, so at ease, laughing with a child who was barely up to your waist, tugged at something in him. He imagined a version of this scene in a few years’ time — maybe it was a little girl with your eyes, or his determined frown, a toddler who insisted on doing everything by herself. He could already see the two of you, that same effortless connection, sharing these small, beautiful moments, and his heart did this odd little flip that made his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.

The little girl tugged on your hand, proudly holding up her chalk drawing. “Look! I did it!”

Your smile lit up, and you nodded, leaning closer to inspect it. “You did! That’s amazing! I think you’re a pro at this, honestly.”

Quinn’s friend nudged him with an amused grin. “Man, she’s a natural. I think the kids like her more than us.”

Quinn only nodded, distracted, not fully hearing what was said because his mind was spinning. It wasn’t just that you were good with kids — it was the way you seemed to understand them, to genuinely enjoy being there with them, in their world. And suddenly, this idea started to blossom, the thought of a life where this wasn’t just an afternoon at a BBQ but something that happened every day. He pictured you like this, kneeling in your own driveway with a little one by your side, his heart pounding with a kind of certainty he’d never felt before.

Lost in thought, he didn’t realise he was smiling until you caught his eye and gave him a playful little wave. Quinn’s chest tightened, a shy grin pulling at his lips as he waved back. He barely heard his friend teasing him about being “smitten” because in that moment, all he could think about was how right this felt, how natural, and how he wanted that future with you more than anything.

It happened again a few weeks later at the grocery store, a place Quinn usually breezed through, his list memorised, rarely giving more than a glance to the colourful chaos of the cereal aisle. But that day, he was momentarily caught up, staring at the endless choices, debating between two boxes. That’s when he heard it — a tiny giggle that somehow cut through the chatter of shoppers, the hum of the store. Glancing over, he saw you a few feet away, your attention fully focused on a baby sitting in a shopping cart beside you.

The baby, not much older than a year, was staring up at you with wide, amazed eyes, completely entranced as you wiggled your fingers and made a soft, silly noise, your face lit with an easy smile. You repeated the sound, and the baby’s mouth dropped open, then let out another round of giggles, that beautiful, innocent laughter that would soften anyone’s heart.

Quinn couldn’t help but pause, frozen mid-decision, just watching. The baby’s mother had been focused on reading the back of an oatmeal box, scanning ingredients with the usual distracted look of a tired parent. But after a moment, she glanced up, noticing the small, quiet exchange unfolding beside her cart. Her gaze softened as she took in the sight of her baby reaching toward you, chubby fingers stretching, drawn to the warmth in your playful smile,

And then Quinn’s heart did that strange, achy thing it had been doing lately, where he felt both immensely full and oddly vulnerable, like he’d stumbled onto a vision of the future without realising it.

He imagined you like this, but with your own baby — a little one with his dark hair and your bright smile, or maybe a mix of everything he loved most about you. The two of you would share that same joyful bubble, so completely at ease with each other, lost in some private little world only you two would understand.

Quinn placed both cereal boxes into the basket, feeling a strange warmth build in his chest, one that he couldn’t seem to shake. His fingers tightened around the handle of the basket, the weight of the thought filling him with a kind of quiet longing. It was such a simple scene, one he’d seen a dozen times with strangers, but with you…it was different. He was already imagining a life that was filled with moments like this, and the ache that came with it was exhilarating, a reminder of how badly he wanted this — wanted you, wanted this life with you and all that came with it.

“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, glancing over and catching his gaze, breaking him out of his reverie.

He blinked, realised the mother and baby had moved on, then nodded, feeling a soft blush creep up his neck as he tried to play it cool.

“Yeah, just… got distracted,” he muttered, but he couldn’t hide the small, knowing smile that stayed with him all the way to the checkout, the warmth of the thought still lingering as he followed you down the aisle.

The feeling roots itself deeply, one he can’t quite ignore as he watches you with his cousin’s 8-month-old, who’s been wide-eyed and mesmerised by you since the moment you walked in. The baby, fussy with everyone else, settles effortlessly in your arms, chubby fingers curling tightly around your shirt, her small head resting trustingly against your shoulder.

Quinn’s cousin chuckles, watching you both. “You’ve got some kind of superpower,” she says, amused.

You smile down at the baby, shifting your arms to hold her closer as you sway gently, instinctively.

“She just needed someone to chat with,” you murmur, your voice soft and soothing.

You don’t see Quinn across the room, his gaze fixed on you, like he’s trying to memorise this scene, the tenderness in the way you hold the baby, your gentle laugh, the look in your eyes. His chest tightens, that strange warmth filling him again that’s both beautiful and a little overwhelming.

From beside him, his mom nudges his arm lightly. “You’ve got a look there, Quinn,” Ellen says quietly, watching him watch you.

Quinn gives a faint smile, eyes still locked on you, almost in disbelief.

“She’s… good with kids,” he says softly, as if the realisation itself has him feeling a little unsteady. “Just — look at her.”

Ellen’s face softens, a knowing smile lighting her eyes. “Some people just have that kind of warmth. Kids feel it. She’s going to be such a wonderful mom someday.”

Quinn glances at her, but his gaze quickly finds its way back to you, his heart doing an uneven thud as he watches you look down at the baby, cooing softly as her eyes close. You look up then, meeting his eyes, and you send him the sweetes smile, one that makes him feel like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

His mom places a hand on his back. “You’d make a wonderful dad, too, Quinn,” she whispers.

Quinn swallows hard, feeling a sudden swell of emotion he wasn’t prepared for. His mom’s words settle over him, and he feels it, the truth of them, sinking in deep. He’s always thought about it in passing, but the whole idea feels closer, more real, like something he could almost reach out and touch.

“You really think so?” he murmurs, voice barely audible, eyes flickering to his mom.

Ellen nods, her hand a steady presence on his back. “Absolutely,” she whispers, surprised that he even has to ask, her smile softening. “Have you two talked about kids lately?”

Quinn’s face flushes slightly as he keeps his gaze on you.

“A little,” he admits quietly, a small, almost shy smile creeping onto his face. “I mean, I think about it all the time.”

Ellen chuckles, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “Well, whenever you’re both ready, you’ll be wonderful parents.” She pauses, trying to keep her smile from widening. “I can see it already. A Baby Hughes with those gorgeous dark waves,” she laughs, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

Quinn shakes his head, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gently swats her hand away. “Mum,” he murmurs, trying to hide how much he’s secretly loving the idea.

Ellen laughs, her hand falling to his shoulder in a gentle squeeze. “No pressure, of course,” she says, though there’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes that she can’t quite hide. “But when you do, I know you two will make a great team.” She looks back over at you, voice dropping. “You both have so much love to give.”

As he watches you across the room, swaying gently with his cousin’s baby asleep in your arms, he can’t shake the feeling that someday, hopefully soon, this picture will be a little different — a little closer to home.

Later that night, in the cosy guest room at his parents’ house, you lie curled up against Quinn’s side, watching the soft flicker of the TV in the dim light. His arm is wrapped around you, fingers tracing gentle patterns on your shoulder as you both unwind from the family gathering.

In his other hand, he’s casually scrolling through his phone, when he pauses, then turns the screen your way. It’s a picture his cousin posted of her daughter in your arms at the party. In the photo, you’re smiling softly, looking down at the baby as she rests against you, and the sight of it, even through a screen, makes his chest warm.

“That’s a good picture,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, thoughtful.

You smile, curling up closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder. Something about that moment earlier had felt so natural, so easy. And as you look at the picture, that feeling stirs again, warming you in a way that feels both exciting and a little nerve-wracking.

After a pause, you swallow softly, gathering your thoughts, and then, before you can second-guess yourself, you say, “hace you thought about having… you know, a baby? Starting a family?”

Quinn tenses for a split second, and you can feel his heart pick up, thumping faster under your cheek. He pulls back a little to look at you, eyes wide with surprise.

“Did my mom talk to you?” he asks, a hint of suspicion, as if he’s caught onto something.

You let out a laugh, the tension breaking instantly, and sit up, leaning back against the headboard as you turn your body toward him, raising an eyebrow. “No, why would she?”

Quinn rubs the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “She, uh… she sort of mentioned it earlier. Said she thought we’d make a great team as parents.”

He glances down, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks, and there’s a shy look in his eyes when he looks back up at you. The gentle vulnerability in his expression makes your heart squeeze, and you can’t help but smile.

“So,” you say, voice small, “what do you think?”

He shifts a little closer, his hand sliding to the back of your knee, fingers tracing gentle patterns. “I’ve actually thought about it a lot lately,” he says, his voice steady, direct, like he’s sharing a part of himself he’s been holding onto for a while. He glances at you, his hand giving your thigh a soft squeeze.

There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, an openness that makes your heart flutter. “I just… I can see it, you know?” he continues, a faint smile tugging at his lips as his eyes linger on yours. “Us, with a little one. And…” He chuckles, pausing, looking a bit shy, “I wouldn’t mind if that happened sooner rather than later.”

You feel a warmth rise in your cheeks, the blush creeping up as you take in his words, your heart skipping a beat. He’s watching you with such earnestness, a quiet hope in his gaze that matches the longing you’ve kept close to your own heart.

You say it softly, almost like a secret, “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

The words settle into the quiet between you, filling the space with a warmth that’s been building, unspoken, for weeks. Neither of you rushes to say more, just letting the admission linger, letting it shape into something real and close.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

i wrote homeward a little while ago that sorta touches on this too if u wanna check that out too hehe

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I really wanted to write a fic where Edwin meets Crystal's mother for Day 2: Friends and Family of @crystal-week but life and concussions got in the way, so here it is, bullet-point style:

In her continuing attempts to get on her parents' good side, Crystal has offered to help them with the planning of a charity gala they throw every year. Last year, she was possessed during the gala and made a scene involving tearing into several trays of sushi in front of all the guests, so she's determined for everything to go perfectly this year. As a result, she's taken a bit of a step back from case work.

It's the night of the gala and everything's going smoothly. Crystal's done everything her parents asked and they both seem happy. She's having a pretty good night, until she turns around and sees her mother talking to a woman she recognizes as Edwin in disguise.

(Why is Edwin at the gala in his disguise? Probably because he needs Crystal's help on a case. Why didn't he just slip in unseen as a ghost in order to avoid social interaction or send Charles? Handwavy plot reasons.)

Really not wanting to see where this conversation goes, Crystal approaches, pausing when she hears Maddy Surname ask Edwin if he has any children. When he replies in the negative, she launches into a litany of complaints about her own daughter, who she says is selfish and spoiled, who has squandered every chance her parents have given her, who ruined last year's gala and has done nothing but get in the way while they were planning this year's.

Crystal knows how her mother feels about her. She can read her mind, after all. But hearing it laid out in such stark terms, when Crystal has been trying so hard, is like that phone call in Port Townsend all over again.

Edwin, who is visibly uncomfortable with having a stranger drunkenly gripe about her family troubles, looks around and spots Crystal standing nearby, unbeknownst to her mother. She knows she's not doing a very good job of hiding how close she is to tears.

And the thing is, Crystal knows where she stands with Charles, because Charles wears his heart on his sleeve. She considers Edwin a friend. But even if she knows he likes her better than he did when they first met, she's never been 100% sure if she's his friend, or if he just tolerates her for Charles's sake.

And then Edwin turns to Maddy and says something under his breath that Crystal can't hear. He's wearing the same icy expression he gets sometimes when a client disrespects Charles. Whatever his reply is, it leaves Crystal's mother speechless.

Edwin walks away from Maddy, offers his arm to Crystal without a word, and they leave the gala together. They don't talk about it. Crystal never asks what Edwin said to her mom.

They solve the case and afterwards, Edwin makes a point of telling Crystal that she did an excellent job. Crystal stays up all night with Edwin and Charles playing Cluedo. Around the third time she kicks their asses (Edwin, the sore loser, accuses her of reading the envelope) she realizes that she's been spending all this time trying to get back in her parents' good graces when she has this new family right here who likes her just as she is.

Next time she visits her parents, she overhears Maddy complaining to a friend about the awful woman at the gala who called her a fucking dreadful mother. Crystal just smiles to herself and decides to go buy Edwin some new mystery novels.

[imaginespazzi]

Happy birthday to my (and the people's I guess 🙄) princess 🩷

Here's to the most resilient, most persevering, most hard-working player I've had the pleasure of following for the last couple of years. No one has truly been through as much as this girl has been and to come out of it every time with that same dedication to be better than she was and that beautiful smile, is the marker of someone really special.

So here's to you #35, I hope beyond hope that this is your year and I really do believe it will be. I can't wait to see you play again, can't wait for your first three, your first steal, your first win. And I'm sure there'll be plenty of all of those.

[7nuh]

WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS

Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.

CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining

CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍

ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?

Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.

You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?

Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.

Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!

It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.

You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.

Ace retracts his hand right away at the last minute. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).

DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?

You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.

But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.

When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?

Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.

Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.

When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.

The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).

But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.

JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?

Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.

Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.

It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.

Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.

He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.

"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this soon, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.

Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?

EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?

Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.

So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.

It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.

Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—

All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.

It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.

Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?

And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?

So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...

It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.

There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.

And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.

It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.

"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.

Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?

Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex witch,

Apologies if this isn't exactly your area, but I'm a trans woman who's had a full-depth vaginoplasty, and I haven't been horny or enjoyed sex basically at all ever since. It's been more than a year and a half since I had it, I've been following all the rules for recovering from it and everything, but my sex drive is all but nonexistent. Whenever my girlfriend and I *do* have sex, I don't actually feel much sensation in/on my neovagina (still feels numb), but I *do* still get overstimulated to the point that my hands and face have a pins-and-needles sensation that doesn't go down for a while afterwards.

The surgeons said it would be normal to lose feeling immediately after, but >18 months feels too long for that to still be true. I also have gotten that pins-and-needles sensation during sex before the surgery, but never so frequently/intensely. I assume some of this is just "relearning the same activities with different equipment," but there's definitely something else going on and I just can't tell what. I'm tired of "just trying it" and then failing and having shitty sex that just makes me feel bad for myself and my girlfriend. She's *extremely* wonderful and patient about this and I'm very fortunate to have her, but it's frustrating enough for *me* in a vacuum that I just... can't bring myself to try new shit. I *want* to be able to have sex that doesn't feel awkward and bad and terrible, like I used to, but the lack of inherent motivation plus how weird and bad every effort thus far has felt is a major demotivator.

Any ideas? The very few other full-depth trans women I've spoken to have told me that they felt better after starting progesterone, but I'm on that already, so I have no idea what to do.

hi anon,

I'm super sorry to hear you're dealing with that, that sounds super frustrating and demoralizing :(

I'm afraid that surgery (of any kind) isn't really my area, and the results of a major surgery like this are likely to be so varied anyway that I wouldn't feel right trying to hazard a guess. I'm posting this in the hope that some of my followers might have had similar experiences, and have something helpful to share to fill in where I'm failing.

[maddiethedogstories]

Saturday Morning Cartoons

As Lana's eyes opened, she was greeted by an all-to-familiar sight. Her small room, decorated like it belonged to a 3-year-old girl rather than the 30-year-old woman she was, was dimly illuminated by the warm orange glow of the princess nightlight plugged into an outlet in a corner.

I quick glance to the window told her that the sun hadn't risen yet. There wasn't a clock in the room, but she knew what time it was: 5:30 am.

A few years ago, being up this early any morning, let alone on a Saturday morning, would have been unthinkable. However, after years of living with Kyle, her husband-turned-Daddy, Lana's body was on the sleep cycle of the toddler her husband treated her as.

Every night at 7:30 pm, she found herself exhausted and ready to crawl into the pink princess sheets of her almost comically small daybed. As a result, every morning she found herself awake and unable to fall back asleep at 5:30 am.

This Saturday morning, Lana suckled her pacifier quietly as she listened carefully to see if anyone else was awake in the house. Unsurprisingly, it was silent except for the soft sound of her suckling and the crinkle of her soaked nighttime diaper.

Resigned to not being able to get back to sleep, Lana decided to slip out of bed. As she moved, she grimaced at the feeling of the cool soaking wet padding of her diaper being pressed against her crotch by the tight, fleece footed sleeper her husband's long-term girlfriend, Rose, had dressed her in at bedtime last night.

Hopeful for a change, Lana grabbed her favorite stuffed rabbit and waddled to the master bedroom as quietly as possible. When she passed the threshold of the door, she could make out the forms of her husband and Rose passed out on the king-sized bed.

Lana was not surprised to find Kyle and Rose asleep at this hour. She had woken up multiple times during the night to the loud moans and screams of pleasure from their usual Friday night escapades. Lana had no doubt that their adult activities continued well past her own childish 7:30 pm bedtime.

Lana almost rubbed herself over her padding thinking about the wild sex she had missed out on as she slept in her toddler bed. However, thinking better of trying to touch herself in any way in the same room as her husband and his paramore, she settled for suckling her pacifier a little harder as she stared at Rose's exquisite exposed breasts.

After staring at Rose's breasts longingly for as long as she dared, Lana waddled over to Kyle's side of her bed and dropped to her knees to be eye-level with him. She moved as quietly as possible so as not to wake her husband's lover.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Lana lisped out quietly, just loud enough for her husband to hear.

His eyes opened, and he groaned as he reached for his phone.

"Baby! What time is it?" He yawned as the screen of his cell phone illuminated his face. "5:30? Why are you up? It's too early to be out of bed."

Lana blushed as her husband talked down to her like a naughty toddler who was out of bed too earlier. But, rather than try to fight his condescension, which she knew from experience would lead to a spanking, she leaned into it.

"But, Daddy, I can't seep! And I need changies. Pwease?" Lana gave her husband the most pathetic puppy dog eyes she could as she begged him to release her from her soggy diaper.

In response, he reached down and gave her soggy crotch an exploratory squeeze.

"Baby, that diaper is fine, unless your messy?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Lana blushed again as she lisped, "No, Daddy, not messy."

Kyle sniffed the air suspiciously before responding, "Well, then, you don't need a change. Why don't you waddle your soggy little bottom back to your room and crawl back in bed? Daddy and Miss Rose are sleeping. You should be too."

Lana would have stomped her foot in frustration if she wasn't on her knees.

"But, Daddy," she whined, "I'm not tired!"

Kyle groaned in resignation like a father who knew his daughter wasn't going to do what he wanted. "Alright then, if you absolutely can't get back to sleep, you can go to the living room, sit on the floor, and watch your kid shows. But, you are not to come back into this room or bother me or Miss Rose until 9:30. Otherwise, you can go back to bed, and I will let you wake me up in two hours."

Lana grimaced at her choices. She could either lay in bed mind-numbingly bored for two hours in hopes of getting an earlier breakfast and diaper change, or be less bored, watching the children shows Daddy let her watch, but at the cost of two more hours in an already wet and potentially messy diaper.

Like the toddler she was treated as, Lana let her short term desires win out over her long term needs.

"Otay, Daddy, I go watch a show."

Kyle smiled and rubbed Lana's head reassuringly before she toddled out of his room, and he went back to sleep. Lana quickly made her way to the leaving room and settled her soggy bottom on her usual seat in front of the sofa as she turned on Sofia the First.

It only took one episode before Lana realized that she had made the wrong choice. Resigned to her fate, the diapered 30-year-old leaned forward, grunted, and released a huge load of poop into her soggy diaper with a trumpeting blech.

As she settled her ass back down into her disgusting, smelly mess, Lana couldn't help but groan at the thought of how long her morning was going to be, all because she wanted to watch Saturday Morning Cartoons like a child.

[weaselle]

Early human match ups with animals

Wolves: have a very similar social structure and lifestyle as early humans, benefit greatly from group dynamics -- teaming up with humans allows them greater access to food at less risk, safer sleeping, higher pup survival rate, better protection from the environment. One wolf eats about as much food as one person, so it's a normal member to add to the group in terms of resources.

Cats: have some amount of social overlap (cat sisters often help raise each other's kittens, and grouping approaches common in some cat species, notably in lions, but also for example in cheetahs, where brother cheetahs often stay together for life in groups of up to 4). Humans are HUGE prey attractors for them, drawing in rodents in large numbers - also meaning people don't have to give up their own food to feed them. Human housing is safer from the elements, keeps competitors and dangers like snakes and larger cat species away. Associating with humans gains special grooming and healing unavailable to wild species, such as draining and cleaning abscesses caused by infected bug bites or, very importantly, feeding and caring through a major illness or injury. A wild cat with a broken leg will often die, a human's cat with a broken leg will live to hunt again.

Goats (which we actually turned into Sheep): Herd structure similar enough to human social structure as to be compatible. Guaranteed food during winter and other times of scarcity -- and none of it is human food. Higher offspring survival rate, robust protection from predators and the elements. Horses : same. Cows: same. Deer/caribou: same but a little less so, actually surprisingly good at both fight and flight (cows, specialize in fight, horses specialize in flight) often travel more distance for resources so have better access during lean times; can match but less beneficial to the deer.

Other animals be like

Big cats like Tigers: Why the fuck are there so many of you in one place. This cold doesn't bother me at all because i'm so big my core stays warm. Just what do you think i need protection from? I'm super capable of feeding myself, and even if food is scarce? you have to sacrifice enough food to feed several people to keep me fed, which is a bummer for your group if food is scarce, and i cannot eat your stored food like dried fruits and grains. Your lifestyle is incompatible with mine, i hate everything about being forced to live with you and also it doesn't benefit me at all. Lions: yeah, plus I already have all the group dynamic benefits you could offer me, you're actually the weakest link in my group, be careful or we might outnumber you, being near us all the time greatly increases the number of times murderous male lions attack this group

Bears: Listen. Even if i get injured i'll just eat something that doesn't run from me until i heal (some brown bear populations spend a couple months a year mainly eating moth colonies, they will eat anything, including moss and fungus). This makes me a direct competitor for ALL you food, btw. Speaking of which it takes like 15 people's worth of food to keep me fed. If i get angry someone is definitely going to die. Protection? from what? The most dangerous thing to a bear is another bear, so also you can't really have more than a couple of me in any group, and staying near me greatly increases the chance of some territorial wild bear rolling up to camp with murder on their mind. What do you meeeean keep wandering around actively instead of sleeping in one spot for months at a time? My life is literally worse with you than without you, and your life is probably worse with me around too.

Weasels: Fuck off you can't keep up with me i eat half my body weight in food every day and bite everything near me. Try to contain me and see what happens i'm made out of teeth and murder and cleverness, and destruction of property and theft are my favorite games and i'm basically always bored unless i'm hunting or fighting or fucking with something. What do you meeeean hold still for 30 seconds now i'm mad and you'll basically have to kill me to stop me from going after whatever i want forever. I will absolutely try to murder every other animal you associate with no matter what size it is, and i will totally also eat all of your other food too because i love fruits and fungus and anything else you like to eat probably - you can't keep me out of your food stores and what i don't eat in the moment i'll steal and hide in my own stash for later. Excuse me now i have to sleep for 18 hours i do not understand why you want to keep doing things for so much of the day.

Don't ask me about ferrets they must have been bought with rodent hunting opportunities like the cats, total fluke if you ask me (ferrets are, in fact, domesticated, after more than two thousand years of human intervention. And it's kind of weird that it happened but i think they were the exact right size to make it work)

I think it's a common misconception that domesticating animals is somewhat like enslaving them. It really is more of a symbiotic relationship. No wild animal would have willingly put up with early humans if they didn't get something out of it. Wolves wouldn't have stayed with us and become dogs if they weren't getting food and safety out of it. Many large herbivores that are now domesticated could and would have easily trampled their early human captors or broken their enclosures open if they didn't have a reason to stay. Sometimes individual animals still do if we don't give them what they need.

The animals that have stayed with us for thousands of years have evolved to cooperate with us better. Dogs have additional facial muscles around their eyes that wolves lack in order to mimic human facial expressions. Sheep grow their wool perpetually while their wild counterparts don't because a bigger fleece means they're more likely to be allowed to breed and be kept around. Domestic dairy cows produce much more milk than wild bovine species and domestic hens lay more eggs. Do you know how energy costly producing eggs or milk is for an animal? It's pretty intense! They wouldn't be able to do that if we hadn't given them the food and safety from predators and the elements to.

And we really need to show these animals respect and gratitude for what they give us by taking excellent care of them. They gave up a lot to be with us, often including the means to take care of themselves in the wild. That's a huge reason why I'm not against using animal products, but I hate factory farming. They are still living, breathing creatures with needs and feelings. They deserve a comfortable life and, when the time comes, a humane death.

[torahtot]

you can always tell when someone doesn't have maga men in their life and god it makes me angry.. "if you're nice and compassionate you can be the one woman that makes them realize women aren't mean!" my mom bent over backwards for my dad for 25 fucking years he has plenty of other women kissing his ass and it never changed anything. do you really think that before being radicalized they never knew a single kind woman? they were never friends with a nice girl? alt-right men's problem with women isn't just that they've experienced too many mean women and they need to be shown that women can be nice, it's that they think women are inferior and don't deserve rights and don't understand anything so you can do what you want with them. and it takes a lot more than being nice to show someone that you aren't inferior. this isn't a case of being nice even when it's hard for the sake of deradicalization, it's about spending every fucking interaction with someone trying to get them to see you as a human being with value and a functioning intellect while they just laugh and show you that's never going to happen.

i cannot stress this enough: random women are not just going out and Being Mean to men. ur average guy interacts with plenty of women throughout his life- close women amongst their friends and family, casual interactions etc. most people don't start out being shunned by women, they start out being treated as NORMAL. & when they show their disrespect in normal society, it isn't tolerated, but when they go to alt-right spaces (which they're pushed towards online) they're told they're allowed to be as horrible as they want with no consequences because they're entitled to everything. it isn't "women aren't welcoming and the alt-right is so friendly so i'll become alt-right," it's "women don't let me disrespect them and the alt-right tells me fuck them, do whatever you want, you're entitled to it all" and why would you choose the group where you have to be a normal accountable person when there's a group that will reward you for being a shithead who gives no fucks?

the alt-right can afford to be more friendly and welcoming because they can allow bigotry. this can't work the same way for progressive spaces because we can be as kind & welcoming as possible but at the end of the day we have lines where we have to say "this behavior/speech isn't allowed in this space," and for certain people, that just can't win against a space where you can be as nasty as you want. these posts always end with a disclaimer saying "of course being kind doesnt mean you need to tolerate their bigotries" but what they don't realize and what drives me crazy is that women not tolerating bigotry IS the "women are mean" that radicalized them in the first place. they perceive you pushing back on any bigotry or bullshit as you being a meanie and treating them like they're ontologically evil. the 'kindness' they need to be deradicalized is you letting them walk all over you.

idk what the answer is to deradicalizing them and im sure relationships are part of it but you can be as kind as you want and all it will do is destroy you ime. i cant stand to see people (who have never even successfully deradicalized any man by being nice btw they always speak in hypotheticals and not from experience) double down on telling women to do things that will see no results and only hurt them, especially when any woman who has tried can tell you exactly how it went

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/12/2024

this one's a bit short. i am now thirty and still unemployed (ten months this week) ://// if you enjoy the tuesdayposts and are not maxed out on your charitable donations for other causes (american healthcare access, healthcare access in other places, war relief, any number of other good causes) i am going to be $300 short for december rent. here is my paypal.

listening

listening to a lot of pete seeger, for my health. there are about one zillion recordings of Old Man Atom, all ever so slightly different. it starts off as a perky gee-whiz-science! tune and continues frog marching the listener along in an increasingly jaunty manner. it's

Then the cartel crowd put on a show To turn back the clock on the UNO To get a corner on atoms and maybe extinguish Every darned atom that can't speak English Down with foreign-born atoms! America for American atoms! I hold this truth to be self-evident That all men may be cremated equal!

it's very depressing to listen to early anti-nuclear protest songs and realize they hold even more true today! song's a bop tho!

-

reading

the feds nabbed someone allegedly related to the semi-dire Snowflake data leaks that have been ongoing throughout the year (Santander Bank, AT&T, Ticket Master, Neiman Marcus, etc).

this guy has been a real thorn in krebs' side for a year or so and participates in some of the worst corners of the internet, which explains the adversarial nature of the writeup. i read through the whole thing going "yeah this guy is Very annoying but why is krebs so mad at him" and then got to the bottom section about other activities. italicized OH moment in real life but bad.

-

watching

continuing noirvember with The Maltese Falcon (1941, dir. Huston).

The Maltese Falcon is a 1941 American film noir in which a San Francisco private detective deals with three unscrupulous adventurers, all seeking a jewel-encrusted falcon statuette.[3] Written and directed by John Huston[3] in his directorial debut, the film was based on the 1930 novel The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett and is a remake of the 1931 film of the same name.[4][5][6] It stars Humphrey Bogart as private investigator Sam Spade, Mary Astor as his femme fatale client, and as villains Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet.

i have two really snotty thoughts to get out of my brain: the modern letterboxed reviews like "i liked this but the homophobia ruined it" weak. all of you are WEAK.

and

i appreciate the work of the tumblrinas trying to queer this story in a more 2020s friendly way. however. sam spade canonically calls someone a slur for using cologne that he deems too feminine. the noir detective series you want is Philip Marlowe, who is at least homophobic in interesting and less physically violent ways.

anyway! gorgeous gorgeous movie. mary astor goes toe to fucking toe with bogey in every scene. a very frantic and frightened woman who is one jump ahead of the pathway crumbling behind her at all times. but she takes the jump and makes it! every time! except for the most important one!!!

-

playing

having a normal one with 12 hours of powerwash simulator

new genshin update rapidly approacheth. there's a lot happening in this screenshot. accidentally careened right past this npc, with one bullet for the poor low-level slime in the background, floaty blue pet in tow. the npc wanted me to deliver something to her sister who is visible under the big tree in the background. i love early area spaghetti code.

-

making

deep cleaned my house again bc i had people over for my birthday, which was a very lovely and very drunk evening of star wars on in the background while we played trivia. not how i expected to enter my thirties! i am not in the life circumstances i expected to be in my thirties, i do not have the life i expected to have in my thirties, etc. feeling a little maudlin and need to do crafts about it but also all the crafts in my home are not quite right!

[aingeal98]

Arcane spoilers and musing

It's so interesting to me that Vi and Jinx are both not big picture people, always focused on their loved ones around them, meanwhile everyone else in the cast from Ekko to Cait to Mel have ideals and ambitions to shape society. Vi and Jinx are both aware of their place in society of course and they have thoughts and feelings about it, but it's not what drives them for 99% of the story. Jinx blows up a bridge full of enforcers and hums the song she sang to distract herself when years ago on the very same bridge enforcers killed her parents. And yet she wouldn't be doing any of it if not to get the gemstone back, which she only really wants as a means to prove to Silco that she can be strong and useful and deserving of her place by his side. Her drive is all personal and focused on the people around her, the karmic retribution towards the enforcers is a nice bit of icing on the cake.

Similarly Vi grew up hating and resenting topside but the one time she lead others in a decision to steal from them the resulting domino effect left her so weighed down by guilt that she has spent the rest of her life desperately trying to protect her loved ones from more hurt and harm and either failing or getting rejected by said loved ones every time. She is driven by guilt and the determination to make things right and being unable to see beyond that has now left her with no one and nothing. She was living for Powder and Powder said I'm a monster called Jinx now that you created. She was living to stop that monster and make things right for Caitlyn because Jinx deliberately kidnapped Cait due to her bond with Vi, and that led her to ignore every red flag and cross every moral line only to get rejected by Cait anyways. She can't go back to Ekko after what she and the enforcers did. She has no one now.

And their S2 arcs are so interesting to me because Vi finally hits rock bottom, zero hope, and now has to find a reason to start living for herself. Her decision to just make a living fighting and drinking away the pain makes so much sense but I'm so curious how they're going to get her out of that pit of self loathing and depression.

Meanwhile Jinx has accidentally tripped her way into becoming a revolutionairy symbol due to personal hijinxs and spite. Which is amazing. You never focused on the greater implications of your actions and harmed your community for years but congrats you're an inspiration and a figurehead now. You mean something on your own. There's no one person, Vi or Silco or Mylo, who you need to prove yourself to. Everyone is now determined to prove themselves to be like YOU. How do you handle that?

(sidenote if I was Ekko I would be so salty like what do you mean I spent years actually helping my community with a vision for a better Zaun fighting against both Silco and enforcers, and these two sisters who I know for a fact are nowhere near as committed to Zaun as I am and have both actively harmed citizens accidentally spark a revolution while working out family drama. Cool cool cool fuck you all I'm inventing time travel.)

[nadinescholtes]

Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question

What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?

I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.

Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?

Hi, thank you!

She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.

But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.

If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.

Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.

Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.

Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.

Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.

She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.

They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.

But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.

And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.

Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.

This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.

She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.

So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.

He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."

Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?

If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.

She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".

Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.

Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.

And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.

He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!

He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.

Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.

I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.

[magicallydelicious4me]

COD 141 and beauty spots that you can nibble. Hrmph...inspired by a beautiful man with a beauty spot I wanna nibble on every time I see it. This wasn't supposed to be this long, but I guess I'm yearning to give out some love bites so it is what it is.

Gaz's beauty spot is somewhere just above his top lip. Adorable, just like every inch of the rest of him. It sits closer to the corner of his mouth and you remember it being one of the first things you noticed on his lovely face when you met him at that sandwich place near your workplace. While you've started aiming your little pecks (and licks) there as a habit, Gaz is now trained to present that beauty spot to you first when you go in to give him his kisses. He deserves every single one. You were also kind enough to let him know he had a matching spot hidden away elsewhere. He particularly enjoys when you kiss that one, oh how his eyes glow when you do.

Johnny's beauty spot sits right on his left cheekbone and you swear it's just as animated as the rest of his face is. It catches your attention when he's annoying you in bed first thing in the morning. He really leaves you with no other choice but to go in and bite the apple of his cheek (affectionately) to discipline him, but the moment he feels your teeth press down gently he can't hold his laughter. Then you're both laughing and the kisses start, and then the tasting starts and before you know it he's filling you so good. Why? Because you're his sweetest girl. His one and only. Bite him all you like, bonnie.

Simon's scarred face is so beautiful and sacred to you. When he first revealed it to you, several months into your relationship, you were thrilled to see a faint sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose and spread across his cheeks. Your man is so big, it's hard to give each freckle the love it deserves often. So when you have him on his back, and he's holding your hips so you can ride him properly, you give them their attention then. You make sure to lean over, pressing on him skin to skin and you kiss each one. Naming them as you go, of course. Delighting when his big body shakes with his adoring chuckles underneath you.

John's beauty spot is usually hidden by his beard, but when he comes home one day having been forced to shave to receive treatment for a wound, you catch sight of it. You coo over it, over him, babying him and dragging him down on top of you on your couch so you can both watch the HGTV show you had on. You begin to scratch your nails lightly over his scalp, ignoring his initial huffing and puffing. He soon falls asleep stretched out on top of you, his heavy head cradled on your chest. Some time later that night, you wake to him carrying you up to your bed. He then lays you down and proceeds to make love to you so tenderly, you don't know what to do with yourself by the time he gets you off for the last time before spilling inside of you. Both of your groans bounce off the walls of your bedroom, and as you wind down and the silence of a late night envelopes you both, you tell him the secret you'd been waiting to share with him since he'd come home.

Fast forward a year and a half, there's a chubby baby with a beauty spot on his face in the exact same spot as his father, gurgling happily in your arms. You press tender kisses on his beauty spot, savouring his fresh baby smell and those precious giggles. Then you turn to his father, and press a kiss on the same spot because it's all you can reach if you're both standing. Unless you ask him to bend over (not in that way, you complain rolling your eyes), of course. And he huffs a laugh, kissing your forehead with a tenderness that (to this day) makes you want to cry. It's just so good.

[olderthannetfic]

Ok, LONG story and a rant. ESL

I have a "friend" who recently got on the topic of disabled children, including severely disabled, mentally and physically children, and how people having an abortion just because of it are bad people. She's not pro-life, but her opinion is if you want a child you need to "accept what you get." She has even spoken about how she'd never even consider an abortion if she had a disabled child, and that she'd be a great mom. Blah blah blah.

Starting off, we went to school in the same class until high school. Her entire life she was terrified of people with disabilities, especially developmental. One time in 8-9th grade she started scream crying because our teacher's son with down syndrome had to join class for 2 hours because of the teacher's schedule. In 3rd grade she thought needing glasses was infectious and always ran away from the two kids in class with glasses.She's had some of the weirdest reactions to people with autism, ADHD, and similar diagnosis.

Yet she's here proclaiming how good of a mother she'd be to a disabled child, as a key argument why people screening for disabilities are bad.

Here's my position, as someone who started studying in a field focusing on working with disabled people in all stages of ability and disability, her sentiment is incredibly stupid to me. If you know the fetus will become an incredibly disabled child, it's not a kindness to have it, you're not mother Mary for giving birth to a child that'll never be able to live independently in this world. I've experienced some of the most unpleasant sides of this, and I don't mean helping clean people after the toilet, or showering. I've been inappropriately groped, touched, and kissed by more people than I can count. Some of them understand it's wrong when I tell them a firm no, some get huffy and angry, some get violent. That's just the surface problems I've dealth with. It's difficult, and painful, and to me it's just a job I can step away from at the end of the day, especially since I'll be able to find work in other medical fields when I've completed my studies.

Yes these are people who deserve all the kindness in the world. But I won't lie, the quality of life for someone who's only way of communicating is crying and hitting people is not a kind life. They don't get to live lives where they can just go on vacation, and see new places on their own. They can't start a normal job. They can't start a family. Half the people I work with haven't seen their relatives in years, or are only visited for an hour or two every week. They see people having relationships and having relations in movies, and with their caretakers of family, but they can never have that. Most of the ones who've tried to touch me, or claimed I'm their wife, or girlfriend did it because that's what they see but don't understand what it actually means. I've dealt with disabled people who were victims of extreme abuse not just from family and strangers, but also people in my work field, who're traumatized but don't have the ability to work through properly because it's already difficult for them to just getting through their days. They have their happy moments, but most of all of this happens in an incredibly small social circle, with strict routines, where only other disabled people exist, and they don't even get the chance to be part of "normal" society. We workers are literally trained to "deal" with these people, sure we're also there for socializing, but most of us are also literally just a resource, we're not a friend, or a family member, we're workers.

Some of the places I've been at are more like a 24/7 kindergarten, with a huge lack of funding and manpower. You won't believe how many times we've struggles trying to help people during extreme and violent meltdowns, all because we're understaffed. The job also lacks male workers, which means it's harder to help with any male patients who voice feeling uncomfortable being helped by women. Do you know how incredibly painful it is to see the shame on someone's face who's more abled to voice this discomfort, but still not able to care for himself and needs help with, to us, basic things such as putting on clothes, or taking showers?

People like this "friend" annoy me, because they idealize the idea of having a heavily developmentally disabled child. They see people with more "mild" cases, or self-sufficient disabled people, but ignore everyone living in cramped disabled "communes" or under poverty and high levels of abuse.

--

Children, animals, causes: a lot of people romanticize the idea of taking on more than you can handle. It's not romantic. It's just irresponsible.

[fantastic-nonsense]

@panacea420 : Porto Rico doesn't want statehood. Why. The people would lose their free money. Yes, they get money they won't vote for statehood . Second Trump trying to clean out Washington is a good thing. Think. A more efficient government. More money to keep in your pocket. Third my biggest hope will be flat rate taxes. Think. If we're supposed to be equal then we should pay a flat tax no deductions. Every person bissness. No give backs. Think. About it billionaires can't use tax breaks. If you make a buck pay a dime. No one gets a break. Were equal under the law. Plus a simple 5% national sales tax. Another way to make corporations pay their fair share. (After they try to say we didn't make a profit or pay their ceos too much. ) think about it?? Also stock options still you have to pay taxes on them as income. Then if the make money on them they pay again. Unlike the current policy. Of only when they cash out . Flat taxes are the only fair taxes I am a liberaltarian. Not a republican. And a registered independent. Why?? Think about this. If a political party thinks you'll vote for them no matter what. Then they will. Not care what you want??? Make each party work for your vote. Just think about that . Used to live in Indiana they didn't have a independent group why?? Again think about it. If both party's are in. Bed with each other?? Dick Chaney was the most hated person by the democrats now he was working with the democrats to keep Trump from winning???? Again think about this please

Sir this is a Wendy's and I have no idea why you put these replies on my post. Anyway, let's get a few things straight:

"Porto Rico doesn't want statehood. Why. The people would lose their free money" Puerto Rico has affirmatively voted for statehood four times over the past decade: in 2012, 2017, 2020, and a week ago, on November 5th, 2024. Yes, the exact significance of various individual referendum results is heavily debated due to a variety of local politics (including referendum boycotts, leadership infighting, and differing status choices), but the point stands: Puerto Rico has voted for statehood several times in the past decade, including a 52.52%–47.48% win in 2020, when Biden won. Hence, why I noted that the Democratic trifecta should have done the correct thing and admitted both PR and DC as states immediately upon taking their seats.

Second Trump trying to clean out Washington is a good thing. Think. A more efficient government. More money to keep in your pocket.

One, this is not what's going to happen. By any objective standards, Trump ran an insanely corrupt, incompetent, and inefficient government during his first term in office. He's a six-time failed businessman and convicted felon who cozied up to corrupt dictators around the world and attempted to run the government like he was Vito Corleone. He was literally impeached for corruption and attempted intimidation of another world leader. He's not interested in "cleaning out" anything, and you're frankly stupid for thinking he is. Why on earth do you trust a corrupt businessman who partied with Jeffery Epstein for years to "clean house"? He is part of the problem you're complaining about.

Two, it's hilarious you think anything Trump does will "put more money in your pocket." He has no interest in helping you. He does not care about you. He will not put money in your pocket. He will not lower your rent or put more groceries in your shopping cart. He's a conman who only cares about himself and enriching his own family and billionaire friends. Or did you forget about how US billionaires got over $1 trillion richer during the four years of Trump's presidency, or how Trump personally reported that his businesses made over $1.6 billion dollars in the same timeframe (largely due to the aforementioned corruption and attempts to curry favor)?

What happened to you in that same time period? Did your wages go up? Did your healthcare get better? Were you finally able to buy a house? No. Because Trump doesn't care about you and your "normal working class person" problems, and never has.

Third my biggest hope will be flat rate taxes. Think. If we're supposed to be equal then we should pay a flat tax no deductions. Every person bissness. No give backs. Think. About it billionaires can't use tax breaks. If you make a buck pay a dime. No one gets a break. Were equal under the law. Plus a simple 5% national sales tax. Another way to make corporations pay their fair share. (After they try to say we didn't make a profit or pay their ceos too much. ) think about it?? Also stock options still you have to pay taxes on them as income. Then if the make money on them they pay again. Unlike the current policy. Of only when they cash out . Flat taxes are the only fair taxes

Flat taxes are regressive. People whose incomes are lower end up paying a larger portion of their income than rich people under that model! They do not create "equality." If you're actually concerned about making sure rich people and corporations "pay their fair share," I am begging you to understand that flat taxes do not accomplish that goal. Rich people WANT you to advocate for flat taxes because it means they end up paying less money. Please go sit in on a Political Economy 101 class, I am begging.

But since I'm nice, I'll give you the short tl;dr on why flat taxes are bullshit and make rich people richer, straight from the IRS:

Take a look at Chart A and Chart C. Look at the actual amount of money that Family A is left with vs. Family C in those two scenarios after you take out taxes. Now compare those numbers to Chart B. You taken a good look at those numbers? Do you understand why flat taxes would be useless at "making billionaires pay their fair share" now, when Family C ends up with $98,000 in Chart A and $80,000 in Chart C vs. the $70,000 they end up with in Chart B (the correct way to tax rich people)?

Finally:

I am a liberaltarian. Not a republican. And a registered independent. Why?? Think about this. If a political party thinks you'll vote for them no matter what. Then they will. Not care what you want??? Make each party work for your vote. Just think about that . Used to live in Indiana they didn't have a independent group why?? Again think about it. If both party's are in. Bed with each other?? Dick Chaney was the most hated person by the democrats now he was working with the democrats to keep Trump from winning???? Again think about this please

I have no idea what you're trying to say here with your rambly little rant except "I hate the system as it stands." Which like. fine. Whatever. so do a lot of us. But this has absolutely nothing to do with anything I actually said and no, actually I don't have to "think about it." I would actually very much like you to shut up and stop rambling incoherently in my replies about something that is wholly irrelevant to the content of my post.

Anyway, this is all to day...sir, this is a Wendys and I am uninterested in you. Go back to high school civics class and come back only when you can actually explain to me, a political staffer, how any level of government (federal, state, or local) actually works on a basic, operational level.

Ok it's been 24 hours and my official post-mortem is literally just "Elizabeth Warren was right: Democrats should have appointed an Attorney General who was committed to prosecuting Trump and everyone who enabled him, cleaned house of Trump's appointees, nuked the filibuster to pass DC and Puerto Rico statehood, and prioritized dealing with corruption"

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! I don't know if I can ask you this (if I can't, please delete it and I'm sorry!). But would it be cool if you could to do a Mystic Gods, Same Face AUs with Boba or Jango? (I'd go with Boba because Fav, but I'm dying to see what you'd come up with for Jango), nsfw 👉👈

Let The World Burn

Summary: After your parents marry you off to a man old enough to be your grandfather, you find yourself unwilling to care about the state of the world. Drowning in misery and choking on your rage, you do the impossible.

Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 2505

Warnings: Smut, reader is not having a good time before she meets Jango, reader sold into marriage

A/N: Hihi! Thank you for your request! As it happens, I have a half written Boba fic for this AU sitting somewhere, just waiting for Boba to come back from the war and settle into my brain so I can write him. I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

It’s been ten years.

Ten years ago, today, your mother and father married you off to a man old enough to be your grandfather. You had been 18 years old at the time and, for some reason, believed that your parents had your best interests at heart.

That belief was quickly shattered on the day of your wedding. When you begged your mother to not make you do this, and she smacked you and told you to grow up and stop being selfish. 

That specific moment was the moment you lost all faith in people as a whole. 

Although, you’re one of the lucky ones. Your husband has no interest in children or a family. He married you because you’re young and attractive. “The perfect trophy wife,” he calls you as he gives you a couple thousand credits to get your hair done and have your nails done.

All you have to do is wear make-up, plaster a pretty smile on your face, and ensure that everything everyone does in his house is done to perfection. And, you’ve managed it.

You’re more than capable of managing your husband’s ridiculous expectations. You do the hair thing, and the nail thing, and the make-up thing. You’ve gotten so good at faking a smile that the other wives you regularly interact with genuinely think you’re happy.

And your husband is happy with you. Happy enough that your weekly allowance is nearly three thousand credits.

The truth is you hate them. Every single one of them. If you could get away with killing all of them, you would do it and you wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep.

“Wife,” You set the delicate mug you’ve been nursing for the last fifteen minutes to turn in your chair and regard your husband. “You’ve been staring out the window for several minutes.”

And it’s weird, and you need to stop, goes unsaid.

“Apologies, husband.” You offer lightly, “I was thinking that I should ask the landscapers to change the garden for this season. The roses did atrociously last spring, and I won’t have it this year.”

There’s the sound of a newspaper rustling, “As you like, wife.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you’re about to cast your gaze back out over the garden, when he speaks again, “The other Moffs are having a gathering tonight. Formal wear only.”

You sigh silently, “I will check my spring wardrobe for an appropriate dress.”

“Good. You know what I like.”

“I will also ensure that your dress uniform has been pressed.”

“Good.” The room falls silent again, and you fold your hands lightly around the mug, helpless rage threatening to strangle you.

If only there was a way for you to be free.

Ah, well. Castles in the sky.

Later that evening, you find yourself sitting at a small table with several of the other wives. Your husband had been pleased with your choice of a dress, long and form-fitting, and a pale shade of blue that you accentuated with matching make-up and nail polish. 

All in all, you look amazing. But then, so do the other women here. 

You’re half listening to the woman on your left, you can’t for the life of you remember her name, as she talks about her most recent shopping trip. You wonder if she’s as vapid as she acts, or if it’s an act to keep herself safe.

Maker knows you’ve once had a whole conversation about nail polish with another spouse since you’re supposed to be a brainless trophy wife. So maybe they think you’re vapid too.

You murmur a quiet excuse to the women who are supposed to be your friends and slip out of the banquet hall. If anyone asks, you’ll tell them you need to check your make-up. But no one is going to ask.

Because no one cares.

You’ve been completely alone in the world since you were 18 years old. And it’s not fair.

You take a moment to slip your heels off, and then you pad down the hall. Escape is impossible, you know this, but maybe you’ll find a library. Or a garden. Or someplace where you can just be yourself for a moment or two.

Stars, do you even know who you are anymore? Probably not.

You push open a thick wooden door and pause as you enter the room. The room is large and grandly decorated. With a massive bed in the center of the room, though this doesn’t look like any bedroom you’ve ever seen in your life. 

For one thing, the room is lit with braziers filled with blue flame. For another, weapons are covering a table against the far wall. You step into the room, and there’s the oddest sensation of someone watching you.

“Ah. So this is the Grand Moff’s kink room.” You murmur as you pad across the room to peer at the weapons, “Gross.” You pick up a blade and examine it carefully, “Maybe this is why he’s not married. Every time someone sells their daughter to him, he kills them.”

You pause, scrunch up your nose, and set the blade back on the table. “Or, I’ve been watching too much reality tv.” You’re not paying the most attention, though, and the dagger drags across the tips of your fingers. Blood pools on your fingertips, and then drops to the stone floor.

“Fuck,” You hiss, the familiar curse feeling unfamiliar on your lips after so long not using it. You stick your fingers in your mouth, to try and stop the bleeding. 

It’s then that you notice that the feeling in the room has changed. 

You turn to look at the room properly, your brow furrowed. You watch as the flames grow higher and higher, and you watch as the stone carving on the floor, which you hadn’t noticed until that moment, bursts into flames so bright that you have to throw your arm in front of your eyes to shield them.

You’re still blinking the spots out of your eyes when a warm hand presses against your cheek.

The man standing in front of you is not any of the Moffs in the building. He’s younger, with darker skin and curly hair. He’s also a lot more fit than most of the men you’ve interacted with over the last decade.

He’s also completely naked.

Your face flames and you immediately focus your gaze on the ceiling. Ironically, despite being married for ten years, you’ve never seen a naked man before.

The man releases a low chuckle, and you shiver at the sound, “There’s no need to be shy,” His gentle touch encourages you to bring your gaze back to him, “There you are.”

“I…who are you?” You ask, “I’ve never seen you before.”

He smiles, it’s a nice smile, “My name is Jango. I’m here because you summoned me.”

“...I did what now?”

His smile widens, “You summoned me. You’re the only person in the room, after all.”

“I…have so many questions.”

“I bet you do.” He drags his fingers down your bare arm, and then takes your hand in his. He glances at the rings on your fingers, and clicks his tongue, before removing both rings and tossing them into a brazier, “Married?”

“Unfortunately.” You’re still staring at him, “My parents sold me to my husband when I was 18.”

He hums in understanding, “Ask your questions.” Jango is still lazily touching you, his fingers trailing down your arms, and across the satiny material of your dress, before gliding up your bare back and across the back of your neck and down your throat.

“You said I summoned you?”

“You did. Not intentionally, perhaps, but you still did it.”

“Okay,” His fingers glide across your lips, “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re my priestess. You serve me, and I protect you.”

“Serve you how?”

He chuckles and moves even closer to you, and you should probably be nervous. Right? But you feel comfortable. Safe, even. It’s been a long time since you felt safe anywhere, let alone in the presence of a man.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Jango’s voice is low.

And he’s right. You can feel something. A connection towards the man standing before you. You can feel his devotion to you, and it kind of makes you want to cry. 

Jango’s fingers find the zipper on the back of your dress and he slowly pulls it down. You don’t stop him. You don’t even consider stopping him. His gaze remains locked on your face as he pushes the dress off your shoulders, “Tell me to stop,” He murmurs, “And I will.”

“I’ve never—”

“I know.” His lips glide across your cheek and down your jaw as your dress pools at your feet, “I’ll teach you.” Jango takes your heels from your hands and drops them on the floor, and then he guides you to the bed, “It’s better this way,” He murmurs as his lips move to hover over yours, “I don’t have to unteach you shame.”

Jango’s lips catch yours in a passionate kiss, and you eagerly surge into his touch. You feel cherished. Loved, even. You’ll give Jango anything, so long as he continues to make you feel like this.

He turns the both of you, so he’s able to sit on the edge of the bed, and he positions you so you’re standing between his spread legs. A glance at his cock reveals that he’s already hard, and there’s precum leaking down the side of his length.

You have the ridiculous notion that you want to taste him. Though the words seem to stick in your throat. You don’t even know how to ask if you’re allowed to.

Jango smoothly removes your panties and bra, both can be classified as lingerie, though he’s the only person who isn’t you, or the laundry staff, who’s ever seen them. 

You jolt in surprise when his fingers dip between your thighs and find your clit with ease. “It’s okay,” He murmurs, “I’m going to make you feel amazing,” Jango kisses around one nipple, and then moves to the other, and you’re pretty sure he’s driving you insane.

“J-Jango, I don’t—”

He watches you calmly, his thumb moving in slow circles around your clit, “Tell me, priestess.”

“I don’t know what to do.” You whisper, helplessly.

He laughs softly, though you know instinctively that he’s not laughing at you, “I’ll teach you. Don’t worry.”

His thumb continues its slow and steady movement, and you find yourself clenching around nothing. For a moment, you worry that your legs are going to give out, but Jango seems to be attuned to you, because the next thing you know, you’re straddling his lap.

Slowly he eases you down his cock, a heavenly groan escaping his lips as he settles you completely on him. You feel full, so full. And you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and press your face against his shoulder. 

“There we go,” he murmurs as he strokes your back and lightly thrusts up into you. How he’s managing that with you sitting on him, you’re not sure, but you’re also pretty sure you’ll figure it out, “Such a good girl,” Jango praises.

His words send lightning down your spine, and you release a quiet moan as you clench around him.

He pauses and then his arms tighten around you, “Taking me so good,” Jango continues praising, “Like you were made for me. So good.”

You whine quietly, “Jango—”

He chuckles and grips your hips tightly so he’s able to bounce you on his cock, “I’m going to take such good care of you, Princess.” Jango breathes, his voice heavy against your ear, “You’re never going to go without.”

He feels so good, you didn’t know it was possible to feel this good. You clench around him tightly and accidentally drag your nails down his back, pulling a pleased groan from him.

“There we go, cyar’ika. Mark me as yours,” One of his hands slides up your back to fist in your perfectly curled hair, pulling you back so he’s able to crash his lips against yours. 

Jango’s tongue slides against your lips, and then presses passed your lips to map out the inside of your mouth, and you immediately submit to him, your arms tightening around him.

He breaks the kiss, though he keeps his lips just over yours, “Tell me, beautiful.” Jango’s hand dips between you and presses roughly against your clit, pulling a strangle moan from you, “What do you want?”

You hear him, but you’re not able to answer. There’s a coil tightening inside you and you’re so close. So very close that, when Jango stops thrusting into you and stops pressing against your clit, you almost sob.

“Shh, shh,” He kisses you slowly, gently, “I’m going to give you what you need, I promise.” Jango presses his forehead against yours, “What do you want?” He repeats.

You know, instinctively, that he’s not talking about sex.

“I…I want,” You whisper, a whimper falling from you as he starts to slowly thrust into you, “I want them all to burn.” It’s the first time you’ve ever admitted it out loud, but Jango looks pleased with your wish.

He starts thrusting harder and faster, his lips closing over yours in a deep kiss that seems designed to steal the breath from your lungs, and with a press of his thumb against your clit, you clench around him and cum with a muffled whimper.

Jango’s pace becomes a little harder and a little faster, as he chases his release, then there’s warmth as he spills his seed deep inside you. He flips the pair of you so that you’re lying on the bed, and then he pulls out of you.

You’re breathing heavily, and you’re trying to reengage your brain, but you seem to be struggling with it a little bit. You watch Jango watch you, his gaze locked on your pussy, a hungry look on his handsome face.

And then his gaze meets yours again, “Stay here,” It is both an order and a request, “I’m not done with you yet.”

You blink at him, “Where are you going?”

The smile he directs at you is vicious, “You have a wish, and I’m going to fulfill it.” He leans over you and brushes some hair out of your face, “You want them to burn, so they’re going to burn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, “You don’t have to—”

“My beautiful priestess,” He kisses you again, “I am the God of Vengence. I’m happy to do it.” Jango presses one more kiss against your lips, and then he turns to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Then Jango is gone, and you stare at the closed door for a moment wondering if, when he comes back, he’ll let you suck his cock. That’s a good reward for killing the people you hate the most, right?

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