#focusing solely on this blog today

[wovetalesarc]

alright   ,   i   have   added   lydia   deetz   of   b.eetlejuice   &   the   creature   from   l.isa   frankenstein   (   tho   i'm   using   j.onah   hauer-king   instead   of   coleslaw   )   to   testing.   i   ate   ,   i   had   tea   i'm   ready   to   fill   this   queue   !

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Kaine,” Web of Spider-Man (Vol. 3/2024), #1.

Writer: Steve Foxe; Penciler: Greg Land; Inker: Jay Leisten; Letterer: Frank D’Armata

[sugar-plum-writer]

Box Me Hard Tonight Boxer <3

Tags: Crazy sex; Nanami losing his mind; NSFW and more NSFW; Boxing terms not used the way boxing terms ought to be used cough; Nanami in a rut being hard and rough; is it even Nanami anymore? what have you done to him?; Fem!reader x Boxer!Nanami Kento; established relationship; marriage; MDNI; (18+)

A/n: I had the most delusional Nanami imagination. Normally I don't write him as I cannot write him properly. But today he summoned me to write on him. And thank you for 200+ followers! I am so happy and am kicking my feet right now! I have opened my asks feel free to check out the pinned post in my blog for more info on asks~

Synopsis: What happens when the promised surprise is you riling him up and breaking the control over himself he had so carefully crafted?

Word count: 1.8k

[Pic not mine I randomly found it on the internet; I'll change it the owner requests ]

Kento Nanami was a boxer turned UFC Champion-infamous worldwide for his tactics and combos, calm demeanor, polite nature but brutal and efficient fighting tactics.

Nanami focuses only on you as you rush towards him screaming in happiness, throw yourself over him and he holds you tight burying his head in the crook of your neck and inhales your scent god you smelled delicious

He had hustled towards you immediately once he was free from the press; had the seats specifically saved for you. You only deserve the best: the front row seats, the closest to his corner as the love of his life.

"Baby" he smiled at you softly compared to his ruthlessness in the ring as the reporters crowd around you and him trying to capture your pictures. He is a star, the sole focus- the champion the only "Kento Nanami"

His muscles flexed as the sweat dripped making his body glisten under the lights.

"Kento! we won! yay!", you kissed him excited unbothered by the people around wrapping your arms around his neck

"Yes, we did" he hums and melts under your kiss with a slight groan as he kisses you back, "So sweet- I can never get enough"- his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt not wanting to let you go.

As the mob gets more violent trying to click pictures, the bodyguards around you struggle to keep them away. Seeing the crowd he immediately scooped you in his arms, "Let's go home, love", he smiled softly as he carried you effortlessly

"Yes Darling let's go home~", you chuckle as his bodyguards in a matter of seconds have you two inside the car through the back door.

"You were so amazing Kento!", you look at him your eyes beaming with happiness, "It's all because of your love and support darling", he kissed you softly as the car started moving

"Kento~ haha!" you laugh as he kisses you and you kiss him back, "Love let's go for a vacation, where do you want to go hm?", he looks at you lovingly. Every time Kento had his match; after the match, you guys would go to for vacation to relax and unwind.

The car ride continues peacefully as you and Kento keep chatting, "Kento you know~ I have something special prepared for you today", you look at him playfully as his eyebrows arch intrigued

"What is love?", he chuckles as he looks at you amused, his hand finds its way to your thighs, caressing small circles into it as he hums softly. Squeezing your thighs.

"It's a surprise~ be patient Kento", you giggle as you rest your head on his shoulder and pat his crotch area making him hard, "Be good for me won't you?"

Let grunted and looked into your eyes hotly as if wanting to stuff you full with him right this instant, "Fine- I'll behave for you love…", his hot breath making you shiver as he whispered, "If only I get a reward later"

Soon you guys arrive home; Nanami gives you his hand to take as he helps you get out of the car and kisses your knuckles lovingly but- the moment the door opens and shuts behind the two of you, he's on you immediately- pinning you against his large frame on the wall.

His hand finds you on your cheek, tilting your face up as he kisses you deeply; your tongues intertwined. Wanting to taste you like a man who finally found an oasis in the desert; he kisses you even harder.

"I cannot be patient"- he looks at you in the eyes hungrily, his hands touching and squeezing your body as he fondles your breasts; wrapping your thighs around his waist- picking you up into his arms as he walks to your shared bedroom

"Ah-Nanamin" you moan as he kisses you hard biting your lips and nibbling on them, "Nanamin hah-" you look at him breathlessly, "Box me hard in the bed won't you?" you whisper as you wrap your hands around his neck making him freeze

"What?", his eyes darken, "Is that a proposal love?", his breath gets heavy as his lips hover above yours

"Do you like it?", you cheekily kiss him and smile teasingly making him lose his composure, "Love it to the ring baby", he whispers making you blush;

He pulls you into another kiss making you moan this one being rougher, hungry, and, full of carnal desire; "Ah- hah Kento ah", you moan against his lips as his hands slide under your shirt taking it off you, his teeth graze your neck before leaving bites leaving a hickey as you squirm

"Kento", you moan as he kisses you deeply once again and pulls away leaving a string of saliva, "Yes darling?" he chuckles as he removes his shirt gazing at your body, his toned muscles flexing themselves under the dim light- a confident smirk is on his lips- a completely different look than how he normally looks at you, what happened to him?

"I wonder", You look at him up and down as you touch his v-line making him groan, "Baby this is a dangerous game you are playing", he whispers with his cock twitching in his pants- oh how badly he wanted to touch him their and milk his cock with your pretty hands

"Hah~", you smirk as you look into his eyes, "Really? well, I wonder how hard my boxer can knock me out tonight~", you smirk with your words instantly sending goosebumps up his spine

"You are just asking to be punished aren't you?" he groans as his fingers dig deeper into your waist your words stirring something carnal inside him- he always likes to be gentle with you- loves you and treats you like the treasure you are, but your words are slowly eating away his control bit by bit

"Punish?", you smirk determined to break his composure to see what animalistic desires hide behind his calm demeanor. You have seen him when he boxes- that hint of insanity in his eyes makes you squeeze your legs together so tight- making you desire him so much it's embarrassing

"Why? will you box my pussy till it's stuffed and knocked out all sloppy?", you smirk and say as you spread your legs open making his breath hitch and his cock harden even more as he gazes at you and that damp spot on your panties- the spot so reserved for him and his dick

"Baby.." he leans in close so fast making you jump back, "Do you know what you are saying huh?" he whispers as he lowers his head and with his teeth rips your panties off throwing them off god knows where animalistically officially losing it; making you shudder as goosebumps spread all over your skin.

Oh shit- Oh shit you fucked up big time, you have never seen Nanami like this

But you aren't done yet hell you planned all kinds of vulgar things just to rile him up with a sharp breath you look at him and he notices as a devilish grin spreads across his lips

"Hah" you lean in and hotly whisper near his ears as his grip hardens on your hips bruising them and making you wince in pain, "Ya know… How about… You give me a fast jab with your dick-", you moan, "Then flip me over and do an uppercut as you fill me up-", his nails dig even deeper and he bites your shoulder bruising you like an animal in heat, "You slut you will be the death of me" he whispers and groans

"Then a side punch into my pussy from your dick as you fuck me from the side…and" your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes because of the pain but it felt so good, "Make me sit on top of you and do fast combos of uppercuts huh?"

Without any warning he stuffs his dick into your pussy roughly making you clench hard- your cunt desperately cries sloppily not used to harshness as she's always been treated like a princess not like a whore; working hard to adjust to his dick as he ruthlessly bullies his length inside you "Fuck" he groaned, "You are driving me crazy"

"Ah-hah-" you moan desperately, your nails digging into his back as he thrusts deep inside of you- hard, fast, and deep wanting to feel every inch of you around him, "Shit Kento! ahhh-", tears spill out of your eyes as you moan; your body aches with every insane thrust

"Hah-", he pants "You're absolutely mine, split so prettily on my dick my darling wife" he hungrily kisses you as his dick keeps moving, his one hand pinning your wrists above your head

There was not a hint of rationality behind his eyes as he was in a rut and just kept fucking you, even after you orgasm he kept going, fucking you through so many orgasms you'd lost count god he was treating you like a prostitute

Your eyes roll back at the sheer intensity wondering how you are even alive right now, "Kento- ah…hah~" you moan as your voice cracks, "Fuck- so perfect, so dirty and wet all for me hah", his hand bruised your skin where ever they touched

Your brain is so cock drunk you drool as he keeps going. He flips you over burying your face in the pillow roughly, his grip hard on your head and neck choking you all out as your vision goes white, "Kento- ah…I love you so much…I love your dick so much ah", you blurt out and choke even more as his grip on your neck makes you faint as you clench around him desperately not wanting to let go

"Oh yeah? Do you love my dick? Then take it like a good bitch! Don't dare let a single drop go to waste", his pace increases even more, making you go numb from sheer pleasure as your hands mindlessly scramble to grip the sheets to hold on for dear life as moans spill out from your mouth like a porn actress

"So fucking good!" he grunts and tosses his head back pussy drunk, you felt so good around him he can fuck you for days and nights just like that.

"ah- hah Kento-" you moan crazily as he and you reach the peak of your animalistic rut and desire, "Naughty girl.." he moans as he shudders with his climax approaching and he cums inside you hard painting your insides white, filling you up to the brim inside your womb, "You'll break my dick" he groaned as he panted heavily

"Hah…Kento…'tis so full ah…" you feel your brain short circuit as you knock yourself out dumb oozing out cum

Looking at you so fucked up, so messy, aroused him even more, his eyes darkens again with insanity behind them, "Don't knock yourself out now…you asked for this..I'm not gonna stop until you're a quaking mess" he whispers hotly near your ears nibbling on it as he sees his cum drip out of you; making his dick still hard enough to keep you up all night.

A full hand-on session of 'Technical Knockout' live; all by Nanami Kento for the love of his life

Link to masterlist!

[vendetta-if]

Hello

Just wanted to ask if everything's good. No activity on the blog since January.

Hope you're good. Love the game.

Thank you for checking up on me 🥰 And to answer the second anon, no, I’m not dead yet, fortunately 😂

I’ve been sick for the latter half of January 🤧 Had to stay in bedrest and couldn’t do anything much. It was for sure the worst sickness I’ve had in years and I pray to never experience it again—or at least for the next few years 💀

And then I had to catch up on the lost progress as soon as I felt better and basically focused solely on that up until today. But now that the early access update is up, I’ll be back to answering asks here again 😮‍💨

Sorry for the radio silence and thank you for the concern ❤️

[misscammiedawn]

Ange Ushiromiya's Recontextualized Memory and Unprocessed Trauma in Umineko No Naku Kori Ni

CW: Full spoilers for Umineko, a mystery visual novel game which is best enjoyed without knowing spoilers in advance. The game and thus this essay will feature discussion of child abuse and suicide.

For those unfamiliar with my blog I have a tag called Media, Myself and I where I talk about positive/accurate representation of dissociative disorders in media.

-

Today I want to talk about Umineko No Naku Kori Ni the third and fourth titles in 07th Expansion's "When They Cry" franchise. The game is a multi-layered fiction that starts off as an Agatha Christie inspired closed circle murder mystery taking place during the weekend of October 4th 1986. The murder mystery displayed has no more than 18 humans stranded on an island in the middle of a storm and the audience is invited to try to work out the mystery of what happened.

As the story progresses the audience are presented with a number of different possibilities, each an in-universe attempt to rationalize the tragedy that took place and killed all but two members of the Ushiromiya family.

It is eventually revealed that to the eyes of the world, no more than 18 humans were on the island that weekend and only one returned to their life afterwards. Some in the world have been quite focused on working out what happened during that weekend.

It's a complicated narrative that has multiple layers and each layer communicates not only with the audience reading the game but an audience of people in-universe trying to solve the mystery as well. When we first experienced the game we had joked that it was sold to us as Anime Homestuck but it ended up being Anime House of Leaves.

-

The easiest way to describe the narrative structure is that the first 7 episodes of the game, each containing about 20 hours of narrative, have within them a fictionalized version of events written in-universe by people who may or may not have been present at the event with episode 8 is mostly its own thing. To explain in further detail would distract. The point is Umineko is a complicated narrative and there is too much to cover a play-by-play.

The narrative is intentionally convoluted and contradictory with part of the fun of playing the game being to work out what events are true and what the rules are for discerning "magic" from "truth".

Even with a concept as seemingly opaque as Truth, there is the often quoted "Without love it cannot be seen" motif, that our emotional connection to events will always color how we interpret events.

The story is remarkably long. How Long To Beat puts each half of the game up at about 60 hours. So that's 120 hours of pure reading with very little gameplay.

There are multiple plural characters ("Oh, I am one yet many", indeed) and we shall discuss them in due course, but for clarity I wish to focus my discussion today upon the relationship between a survivor and their histories. The novel has much to say on the topic.

The above image discussing the nature of truth is from Episode 4, the chapter where the protagonist is Ange Ushiromiya. Younger sister of the protagonist of the first Episodes, Battler Ushiromiya.

Ange, 6 years old at the time, was sick on the weekend of October 4th 1986 and was not present on the island for the massacre. One weekend she had a full and lively family and then in the span of a single week everyone she had a connection to was killed in unknowable circumstances, she was whisked away to live with her aunt, the sole survivor of the tragedy, and would live the life of a cursed child, forever haunted by the tragedy that stole away her life.

Ange's story takes place in "The World of 1998" where she seeks The Truth. She states multiple times how she is incapable of going on with her life until she knows The Truth.

The events of 1986 are presented via "forgeries", published stories which tell the story of the 1986 tragedy utilizing facts that are known about the family. Ange pours through them, attempting to uncover the truth. She suspects her aunt may be responsible. Why wouldn't she harbor suspicions? Aunt Eva was the only one of the no more than 18 humans to leave the island and became the sole inheritor of the Ushiromiya family fortune.

Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is formed when an individual endures long-lasting and repeated bouts of ongoing trauma, typically in childhood. Survivors often find themselves caught in an inescapable cycle of grieving that lasts months and years beyond the loss and remains fresh and raw in spite of the time and changes that have occurred since the event. The individual is tethered to the past by an inability to move on from their loss. In psychology this is referred to as Complicated Grief and though it is most commonly discussed with death, it can present itself for grieving lost time, stolen youth and lives unlived.

Ange is riddled with Complicated Grief. Her story takes place 12 years after the events on the island of Rokkenjima and yet she constantly tells those around her that she is unable to live without knowing the truth. Ange's unprocessed grief is unearthed when her aunt, the only survivor of the massacre, passes away while maliciously refusing to give Ange any insight into the truth that she alone knew, twisting the knife as she turned over the family fortune to a child that was not her own beloved George.

Ange's sole reason for existing is to make peace with the tragedy of her past and Eva's final act was to tell her she would never have it and would instead live a cursed life of a victim in the public's eye. Eternally scrutinized and criticized.

Ange, now knowing that the only chance she had to be given the truth and still feeling that she needs it in order to live her life, runs away and starts a journey to either make peace with her tortured past or end her own life.

Ange's suicidal tendencies are played up dramatically and much of the final episode is the conflict between Ange's inability to live with her grief being played out in hyperbolic fiction. The stakes of the story amounting to "will she be able to live after learning The Truth."

But what is Truth? Would learning who is responsible for her family's death truly give her peace or would it only serve to trap her further in her endless cycle of grief?

Trauma therapy tends not to focus on Talk Therapy for the most part as such therapy indulges a survivor to dwell on their unprocessed traumas and will only serve to retraumatize the client. In many cases it is detrimental to perform Motivational Interviewing (reflective statements designed to display to a client that the clinician is listening and interpreting their words without offering direct guidance or intervention) or Rogerian "person centered" (a similar tactic designed to keep a client talking without engaging in a back-and-forth, every reply should be a prompt that inspires the client to continue sharing without boundaries and reach their own conclusions) techniques.

The reason why is that these forms of therapy have a belief that "the client holds all of the answers" and the clinician's job is to let the client get out of their own way and walk towards the answer. It is a solutions based therapy where the client is trusted to clear cognitive distortions and navigate around mental blocks between themselves and what they need.

Ange's stated goals are far from healthy.

In survivors their Core Beliefs are informed by their trauma. Those who were raised in a house of neglect may have an unresolved core belief that they are unworthy of love, those who feel shame and guilt for what happened/how they were treated may have a belief that "I should have..." - A helpful list of common negative core beliefs and positive beliefs that can be instilled, click here.

Trauma therapy contains an element of identifying these beliefs and where they originated and working to overcome them. There are many different therapies in the world that attempt to do this but they all include some element of processing trauma, accepting trauma and committing to the future.

In Ange's case she does not need to know what happened in order to live. She has to accept what happened and live.

To make this clear, should Ange learn what is presented to be The Truth it will break her and she will be unable to accept it and in doing so ends up unable to live.

-

All of this is a prologue to talk about acceptance and our emotional connection to memory.

Prior to Eva's death, Ange was raised in a boarding school where she was ruthlessly bullied by the other students. Both Ange and her aunt are in the public eye for the scandal associated with the Rokkenjima massacre and Eva actively despises Ange and refuses to give her the care, nurture and privilege that the other students of the rich academy enjoy.

She lives a lonely and cursed life. Her one solace is getting to find time alone to sit and read her cousin Maria's "Grimoire", her journal. When she reads the journal she can clearly picture her cousin in her mind and interact with her. A form of "magic" that Maria taught Ange back when the two of them were friends, prior to the massacre in which Maria lost her life. In the past Maria had created a magical society called Mariage Sorciere and Ange was one of the members before being excommunicated.

We'll discuss it further in a while however while introducing Maria I wish to note that she was most likely forming a dissociative disorder prior to the massacre. The series writer Ryukishi07 was a social worker prior to his career in visual novels. He does a remarkably good job of displaying how abusive and neglectful family dynamics can impact a young mind. Maria, despite being 9 years old, has speech patterns linked to an infant's maturity, she often switches into a "witch" persona and she will hold up her stuffed animals and voice out their speech, treating them like separate individuals. She is bullied at school and her mother hits her when she does this but she is incapable of acting any other way. It's who she is.

A small portion of the second chapter even having some of the cousins stop to discuss the possibility that her overactive imagination and play-acting may contain elements of dissociative identity disorder. It's never fully confirmed and she dies at age 9, but Ryukishi07 displays a convincing depiction of extreme childhood neglect that would lead to a severe dissociative disorder had she have grown up.

We learn throughout the story that her journal contains sketches of many magical entities impressed upon the servants of the island and toys that Maria has. These entities becoming the magical cast of the "Gameboard".

Though not the focus of this particular essay, each episode of the game is depicted as a chess match between a game master (representing the author of a murder mystery) and an opponent (representing the reader trying to solve the mystery) and these matches take place in a world of purgatory. This world is populated by a magical cast of characters each of whom is paired with a member of the mundane cast on the island.

The game often repeats that it takes "two to create a universe". There needs to be one to imagine it and one to perceive it and mark it as real. This is displayed on the gameboard but it is also displayed with the way that for every imagined character who exists as part of the magical cast, there is the one who imagines and then there is one who their imagination is displayed onto.

Maria is a child of extreme neglect, as we will discuss soon, she had no one to displace her imagination upon (spare for her mother who she imagined as being possessed by an evil witch when she became violently abusive) and so she imbued life into her toys. Bringing Sakutarou, her stuffed lion doll, and her band of toy rabbits to life. This earned her the title "Witch of origins".

The magic in the game's universe operates on a rule that "it takes two to create a universe" logic. The concepts of Magic and Love being intertwined. "Without love it cannot be seen" has many meanings but in terms of creation it means that anyone can apply "the anti-magic toxin" of mistrust/disbelief by simply rejecting another person's reality.

So much of the magic and love in this world is built on trust and being able to believe in that which is shared. The concept is explored from many angles throughout the game, Episode 6 focusing on love in the form of trust between a writer and a reader and the contract between them requiring a murder mystery to be solvable and for a reader to earnestly engage with the fiction and accept it as it is written.

Within Mariage Sorciere, this love is to accept that the characters and imaginings of its members. To be a member is to accept all as it is presented. Sakutarou is a magical lion boy who speaks. To doubt this is to be excommunicated from the order, which is why Ange was kicked out of the witches alliance. To say Sakutarou wasn't real was tantamount to trying to kill him.

Maria's love is without doubt. In Episode 7 we learn that she is not capable of viewing people as anything more than how they present to the world. Her imagination paints how she perceives the world. When her mother's behavior drastically shifts when she enters a violent and abusive rage she firmly believes that her mother has been possessed by a cruel witch.

When a familiar adult approaches her speaking as the Golden Witch Beatrice, she does not see the adult. She only sees Beato. This is vital to her testimony throughout the game regarding the murder mysteries.

One last thing I wish to go over during this analysis of Ange and Maria and their relationship to their traumatic childhoods. That is the title of witch.

By now I hope it's been made clear that magic is imagination and love is trust. Whether it be testimony being believed, the contract between author and reader or the inner reality of one being seen and regarded and acknowledged by another.

As someone with DID, I like this concept a lot. It would be so easy to simply dismiss our condition and the presentations. But with love it can be seen.

The game shows a number of different types of witch. From the witch of origins who can make new imaginings that do not require another person to validate them to the Golden witch who has enough money to make reality via sheer financial coercion or the witch of truth who can make reality by asserting it to be so or witch of resurrection who can keep those who died alive in their memory.

Each witch is using their magical ability to "create" by taking their imagination and moving it out into the world. The Witch of Truth is a detective whose deductions are believed to be fact even if the accused disagrees. The Golden Witch can take any scheme or desire and pay people to make it a reality.

And Ange, the Witch of Resurrections, can bring back the dead by remembering them and keeping their voices in her heart. They live on in her writing. In her words. In her memory. So when she reads Maria's journal she can bring the Maria of 1986 into the world of 1998. When she reads of Maria's magical companions they can accompany her.

With this context, we return to Ange in her teen years.

Lonely and consumed by grief she is only able to find solace in imagining Maria with her, imagining Maria having forgiven her for saying Sakutarou wasn't real.

As she accepts the role of apprentice witch she is allowed to perceive Maria and her menagerie of imaginary friends.

Though there's a certain amount of strain and physical discomfort in maintaining the thought process of so many at once. Maria is able to do it remarkably easy but Ange has to struggle.

It's okay, Ange, dissociation headaches are an absolute bitch. They get better after a certain amount of stabilizing and communication work.

All the while she reads about Maria's home life.

To break the essay structure and be real for a moment. This segment hit me hard. I choked up crying and needed to take a break from the game for a while. The depiction of child neglect and abuse was too real and I feel it serves the fiction to depict it as such but it is a hard read. Please be kind to yourself as you read on.

Rosa Ushiromiya is the youngest of the Ushiromiya children, furthest from the inheritance and least respected of Kinzo's progeny. She likely suffered a large amount of abuse and neglect in her own childhood both physical from the eldest sibling, Kraus, emotional/psychological from her sister Eva and a combination of both from her other brother Rudolf.

Children raised in abusive households are more likely to develop personality disorders born from attachment trauma. A typical display of this is dichotomous thinking, praising and devaluing the same subject in waves based on stimulus. Within Borderline Personality Disorder, for instance, this is where the concept of Splitting and Black and White Thinking come from.

For Rosa, this manifests with her mood swings that have her violently scream and hit her daughter before lavishing her with apologies, affection and attention.

Every character in Umineko is burdened with a painful past. Each character feels the need to displace that pain outwards and project it onto other people. For instance Rosa displaces her pain onto Maria. Both of Ange's aunts displace theirs onto her. Kyrie displaces hers onto Battler.

Generational trauma is a heavy theme of this game.

Rosa makes her way as the head of a small fashion design label though she does not see a lot of success in her role. Early in adulthood she had a relationship that ended with her pregnant with Maria. Maria's father, upon learning of the pregnancy, left.

Rosa is young, lonely and feels that having a child makes it difficult for her to find love; in the time and culture of 1980s Japan being a single mother was seen as shameful. She finds that the best way she is able to date is to act like she does not have a daughter and take extended vacations across the country on weekends with her dates.

Leaving her daughter home alone.

Rosa has a number of hang-ups about the optics of leaving Maria in someone else's care, she is shown on multiple occasions in the story to fly into a rage when her ability to be a parent is put into question and she has massive cognitive dissonance in that she cannot bare to be seen as a bad mother and so she acts like a horrible mother to avoid looking bad.

I have seen a lot of debate on the logic here and first off, anyone who approaches this story with a view of "it does not make sense that a character acted this way" lacks the Love required to enjoy this story in full. The author enters a firm agreement with the audience to work within the confines of the fiction and not to disrespect the fiction by rejecting that which is offered. He will deceive us but never lie. In that we have to believe in the story.

But it's also a sign of those who have grown up with a proud optics obsessed parent and those who did not. Sad to say, I have experienced a few of the things which happen in this chapter and I have no doubt that Ryukishi07 saw some of it in his social worker career.

When Rosa leaves Maria alone at home, for days at a time, she orders her to never make anyone aware of her situation. More important than anything else never speak to the police about what goes on in this house.

That. I have lived that one.

What Ange reads and what Maria shows us in this episode is a weekend where Maria is home alone, her mother having forgotten a promise that was made to her and Maria is locked out of her house. She spends an entire evening searching for the lost key and eventually needs to seek a friendly store worker who recognizes her to get help.

This leads to police intervention, a social worker showing up at Rosa's house and...

I glossed over a lot. This is a dense book and this story takes up much of Episode 4. Suffice to say, Maria's friend Sakutarou was murdered in retaliation for Maria summoning attention of Rosa's bad parenting. Rosa abandoned her daughter for a full weekend after breaking a promise and when she was locked out and defenseless she asked for help and was violently punished for doing so.

Another function of the witch of origins is the ability to break the cycle of generational abuse. She does not take her pain and push it into someone else, she creates an imagined evil mother to hate and fear while continuing to love her 'real' mother. This way she never has to doubt the love she has for the mother who she has happy memories of and who custom crafted a lovely plush lion just for her.

Which leads to the discussion of trauma, memory and processing.

Ange, upon reading this story is crestfallen. She views Maria as a pitiable child, only to be confronted by MARIA who defends Rosa. Arguing that she legitimately forgot her promise, rather than deciding that her daughter was not worth the time or effort.

She claims constantly that Rosa is a good mother and that she is happy.

Maria, a being who can only view the world with love, despite being abused and hurt; chose to be happy and so through her magic it was so. She was happy.

There's a misconception I have seen and I will admit I held for myself upon reading Episode 4 that Maria was preaching to deceive ones own self in order to be happy. That it was enabling and accepting of her own abuse.

But this is actually one of the deepest things Umineko has to say about generational trauma...

Chapter 8 revisits the idea with a version of the gameboard where the Ange of 1986 is allowed to be on the island, something which was impossible because in truth she was not. Not even the witch of miracles could change that which is certain.

In this game, set by Ange's older brother BATTLER, the 6 year old Ange is treated to a fun halloween party with her aunt Eva run by her loving family. Throughout the entire story Grandfather Kinzo was made out to be the source of all evil and in this episode he is displayed as a kind and loving grandfather.

The entire reason I wanted to write this post and include it in my Media, Myself and I series (in lieu of discussing the overt plurality in the game, even) was due to a conversation Ange has with Battler about this deception.

Source: LP Archives - The full conversation can be found on this page for anyone who wants the full breakdown.

The entire story of Umineko is a struggle for those who experienced horrors to be able to come to terms with their memories and process them. This is true for Ange, it is true for Maria and it is true for the other members of the cast also.

Memory is malleable and uncertain and can and does become distorted due to understandings and contexts gained at a later stage, particularly when bias is in play.

For a graphic of how this works please look at this:

Source

The more a memory is reactivated the more it is eroded of its initial context and additional contexts bleed in. For Ange's circumstance she remembers her parents through the lens of knowing that her father was embroiled in legal troubles from his womanizing behavior. It is unlikely a 6 year old Ange remembers Rudolf in this light but her view of her father is painted through this lens and thus when she retrieves these memories the present context forces itself into the past.

This is just how the human mind works.

EMDR and other trauma treatments are focused on hijacking this system. When a traumatic memory plays out the amygdala processes the emotions and sense of danger which activates the nervous system. This process does not even require a conscious recollection; should a trauma memory be associated with a certain scent the nervous system will activate upon smelling it even if the survivor does not recall the event attached to the stimulus, the amygdala most certainly does.

I have spent too much of my life considering which of our memories had lavender scenting…

For EMDR the process involves retrieving the traumatic memory without allowing the client to reexperience it while ensuring they do so within the context of the present while highlighting safety and security. This allows the memory to be filtered through without the activating the nervous system. In some therapies this can be a process of re-parenting in which the emotional absence is provided either by the self or via a proxy. The idea is to allow the memory to break association with the trauma and be decontextualize until the memory no longer has negative associations.

Where I had assumed Maria's choice to be happy and think the best of her abuser was an act of enabling and self-deception, I now see was an attempt to stop dwelling on the negatives of the situation and allowing the past trauma to become a defining point within the present.

Maria cannot choose what happened to her. She can choose how she intends to live with what happened with her. She cannot know for certain what Rosa's motivation was in her actions. In fact as we go through the game the audience comes to be given some sympathetic information which though can never redeem Rosa's terrible parenting, can allow one inclined to feel sympathy for her. Like everyone else in the game, she's a victim too. Quite literally in 1986.

There's no way of knowing if she maliciously lied to her child and went off on vacation abandoning her or if she legitimately forgot her promise. No one is arguing that what Rosa did was forgivable. But it helps Maria continue living a happy existence knowing that she was loved and that the good memories she has of her mother are true, even if the bad ones are also true.

Maria, filled with love as she is, elected to see The Good Mommy and The Bad Mommy. Is this right or wrong? It's unimportant. What matters is if Maria can be happy.

Sakutarou was a stuffed lion said to be handcrafted by Rosa. Given as a gift and beloved above all things for Maria. When Rosa destroyed the Sakutarou doll the lion cub boy died and could not be resurrected by Beatrice because it was a unique item created by Rosa.

In Chapter 4's conclusion, Ange does the impossible and resurrects Sakutarou. She does this because Sakutarou was never a custom made doll crafed with love. He was a mass produced toy sold in travel gift stores that Rosa happened to pick up on her way home. She lied. Ange never tells Maria this. The miracle of Sakutarou's rebirth is enough. Knowing that the beloved handmade toy was not hand-crafted would not make Maria's life any better. Sometimes believing in magic is the best thing for someone living in a world painted by despair.

Funny that Ange understood that much for Maria and yet still sought after the One Truth up until the very end.

The finale of the game comes down to presenting this option to the player and by proxy Ange herself.

In a world where you cannot change the past and you cannot fully accept what happened, is it better to continue digging up the past and re-experiencing the trauma in hopes that there lays a truth that will make it all finally make sense or to try to make peace with the past and find moments of peace to hold onto. Holding to hate and pain only serves to bring the pain of the past into the present.

Ange, the witch of resurrection, has the ability to keep her family with her long after their death. Should she be haunted by the family that she was deprived or be happy for the limited memories she had and not be tethered to a world of the past she could never have possibly been part of.

Healing in Umineko is accepting love and making peace with loss. It is learning to live unburdened by tragedy and do the best with what was done to us.

If we cannot let go then we'll continue living in the world of the past turning over the events over and over trying to make sense of it and even if we are somehow granted the magical context, the one and only shining truth... it will only serve to make things worse. You can keep the past alive without letting the past control your future.

And Umineko does a remarkably good job of showing that.

-

Gosh... that took far longer than I'd hoped. Umineko is a difficult piece of fiction to type about because so much of it is subjective and hard to present to a broad audience without providing ample context.

I'd hoped to talk about Yasu's DID but I suppose that shall have to await another update. My original draft for this discussion was to discuss the different forms of dissociative amnesia with Ange's story serving as an example of how recontextualizing memory works. I may yet go back and do a full amnesia based ramble in the coming months. I just needed to get at least one aspect of Umineko drafted as it's been living rent free in my brain since December.

If you enjoyed this breakdown and found it interesting, please check out some of my other Media, Myself and I essays.

Derealization in Night in the Woods and Metal gear Solid 2 - Describing the sensation of derealization where the brain stops connecting associations between the self and the things one perceives in their surroundings. One example displaying how this impacts a person living with DPDR and the other showing an example of a game attempting to make a player share the experience with the player character.

DID and the healing process in Mr. Robot - A run down of the experiences of discovery, exploration, rejection and healing within DID as displayed in each season of Mr. Robot, along with a disappointed rundown of why the final episode fumbled the ball.

Bruce Banner and the roles of his alters - A breakdown of the formation of The Incredible Hulk's DID and what roles his many alters play.

Romantic relationships with systems - A look at the marriage between Bruce Banner and Betty Talbot-Ross Banner in Hulk comics and a frank discussion between Betty and one of Bruce's alters about how relationships function in a system.

Personality Play in Penlight - A review of one of the routes for a hypnokink visual novel called Penlight in which the protagonist hypnotizes a woman to have an alter personality, along with some descriptions of how dangerous play like that works in real life and what the consequences could be.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Hi friends!

My name is Inka and I used to have a blog here called adragonprinceswhore.

Some time ago, I deactivated my account because I felt like my interest in fandom, and especially writing, was dwindling.

In an attempt to not lose my interest in writing completely, I left Tumblr and focused solely on continuing my two ongoing series.

To those of you who followed me over to AO3; you don't know how grateful I am for your support. Today, I saw that Colour My Mind, Bring Me Back reached 300 kudos. That warms my heart and makes me so incredibly glad. Thank you thank you thank you! ❤️❤️

Some time away has been good. It has stopped me from renouncing HOTD and writing completely, and now all the new promos have made me miss tumblr and being a full-on weirdo here. Having a blog is my only outlet and I don't think I can watch season 2 without screaming about it on tumblrdotcom

When I deleted my account I didn't think much of it; it's just a blog after all. But to be honest, I am sad that all the lovely engagement with you; the comments and reblogs, asks and discussions, are all gone. And I understand that the comments I left for you are all gone as well, which hurts my heart the most. But, you know, that's life, innit.

Anywayyyyy, premiere toniGHT?! I am already losing my mind 😌

Can't wait to see those dragon wankers in action in two weeks 🤩

[twistnet]

morning moments [ tig trager ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; waking up to find your husband and child attempting to make breakfast for you — although both seem to be failing (badly) it doesn’t stop the rush of affection you feel seeing the two so focused on making this the best morning ever // @cherieann-2001​

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader + general fluff [ soft!tig, sweet family moments, one little joke ]

sun rays peaked just over the horizon, slowly illuminating the bedroom and warming your face in greeting. you stretched, arms and legs fanning out along the bedsheets before retracting at the feeling of coolness seeping in from the other side the mattress.

something that quickly caught your attention as you rolled over in haste, in fact finding the other side of your bed empty with the blankets thrown back haphazardly. 

stifling a yawn, you tumble from the bed. now intent on finding your husband at this ungodly hour of the morning. he was supposed to be in bed -- a promise from the night before that nothing was on the club or his own personal agenda to accomplish today. 

in your rush, you nearly passed your babies room, wincing slightly to yourself as you hoped your little stamped from the bed wasn’t enough to wake them. and yet, worry sank further into the pit of your stomach after finding your little one absent from their crib.

the worry present in your gut only fueled the question ringing through your mind -- where were your husband and child? frantic footfalls down the hallway, turning towards the stairs and quickly descending as you hoped they were just relaxing in the living room for the better part of the morning.

at the last step, you caught the noise of a pan hitting another -- rising loudly through the kitchen followed by a muffled curse and some joyful giggling. gently peeking around the corner, you caught the sight of your husband -- back turned towards you as your child sat comfortably in the highchair beside him. although far enough away to prevent the curious child from being able to reach anything hazardous.

now stepping a little further into the kitchen, you are now able to get a better look at the scene in front of you. bowls and batter littering the kitchen counters, opened containers and bags of flour huddled together. mixing utensils lay either in the bowls or upon the countertop. all caked with various batters and substances.

“what’s going on in here?” you finally ask after a few moments, your voice scaring your husband -- based solely on the way he seems to jump at the sudden sound of your voice. whirling around with a spatula in hand and a frenzied look in his eyes.

at the sight of his face, you bust out a laugh. hand coming up to cover your mouth as you giggle to yourself -- thus prompting your child to start laughing along side you. although, you are sure they are only mimicking you and not actually sure what is funny.

“what?” tig asks lightly, watching as you step closer to him with a bright smile on your face before reaching up and pressing the pad of your thumb against the swell of his cheek. brushing away the flour and pancake batter caked to his skin.

drawing back, tig’s brow raise in understanding, before a offering you a sweet smile, “is there a chance i can convince you to stay for breakfast?” he asks, gesturing to the pan of freshly made breakfast and sides before eyes trail over to where your child sits happily babbling to themselves.

“there is definitely a chance, wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

blog navigation ⇢ [ sons of anarchy masterlist ]

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter XVII.

GIF by darksber

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Obligatory storm chapter.

WORD COUNT: ~13.4k

RATING: 18+ Explicit topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: the crime plot is slowly but surely progressing, smut, a very wet blowjob, p in v sex, dirty talk bc duh, using panties as a gag, praise praise praise, javi being soft and vulnerable my god, STEVE MURPHY MENTION!!, if there's typos/grammatical errors just pretend that there's not, other things that i'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: i'm just absolutely feral over these two... that is all <3 as always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3 [ paloma's piano song ]

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

Javier wanders through the quiet aisles of the library, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as he makes his way towards the now familiar astronomy section.

He pauses occasionally, eyes scanning the titles on the spines of countless books, searching for something that might hold the answers he’s looking for. 

What begun as a mere attempt to impress Paloma had unexpectedly blossomed into a genuine interest. It was during a reading on lunar cycles that a sudden gut feeling prompted him to revisit the case files.

And there, in the minutest of details, he spotted a new pattern.

Each date of the murders fell in perfect alignment with the full moon phase. This illuminated the otherwise randomness of the crimes—one girl per month, precisely when the moon shone its brightest. 

He read over the files at home, searching for any significance the moon held within the context of the original group, but found nothing. This raised a crucial question: Is this the same group resurfacing, or a new player putting his own spin on things? Understanding this pattern isn’t just a matter of detail; it’s essential for deciphering the motive.

The slow progress of the investigation is frustrating, with each discovery taking its sweet fucking time to unfold. But at least this is some kind of development.

“Did you find what you were lookin’ for?” Paloma’s whisper catches his attention, drawing him from his focused search. He glances through the narrow gaps between the shelves and books to find her standing on the other side. Her dazzling brown eyes meet his, a warm smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, actually,” he scratches at his jaw, “She’s standin’ on the other side of this thing.” Flirtatious as ever, he’s pleasantly surprised to see her. She hadn’t mentioned working today during their phone call last night.

Then again she might’ve, but after talking her through an orgasm then finishing in his own fist shortly after, Javier was more focused on reeling himself in from how good her pretty little voice sounded while she was whispering pure filth into the receiver. 

Part of her face is hidden, yet he doesn’t miss the entertained expression that dances across her features.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any books on the moon, would you?” He asks, trying not to let his mind drift to the sounds of her moans and pants over the static of the phone.

“I don’t think there are any libraries on the moon,” she banters playfully, “but we can always call the NASA hotline and ask.” Her teasing has him rolling his eyes, yet he can’t hold back a lopsided smile.

“Alright, smart ass, you know what I meant.”

She laughs softly, her amusement barely contained as she tries not to disturb the other patrons. “Yeah, we got a couple. They’re on this side, though.”

He licks his lips slowly, narrowing his gaze. “Really? Because I see a few right here.” He pulls out two books that had caught his eye before she arrived, holding them up for her to see.

“Yeah, but there are better ones over here.” Paloma’s voice is inviting as she slowly starts to move down the aisle, her presence a tempting distraction, and he follows like a desperate puppy.

They reach the end of the row, and now her eyes narrow teasingly, silently urging him to make the first move.

Which he does, obviously.

Rounding the tall shelf, he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her close. The warmth of his body against hers is very welcomed, and she looks up at him with bright eyes that are swimming in excitement.

“You’re very lucky there ain’t no cameras back here,” Paloma breathes out in a hushed tone. He presses her back against the flat end of the wooden surface, gazing down at her.

She bites her lip and his eyes lock onto the movement, bringing his thumb up to gently pull the flesh from between her teeth. “Lucky me,” he murmurs, dipping his head to place a tender kiss on her cheek.

She pouts. “Really? Just on the cheek?”

“You make it so hard to be normal about this.” Javi leans in to kiss her properly, her lips warm and soft, tasting faintly of the coffee she had earlier.

His forearm rests against the shelf, towering over her, hip jutting out slightly. In his other hand, he easily holds the two books.

The sound of their kiss breaking has her blushing, hoping no one was nearby to hear it. Thank God this area of the library is usually a dead zone.

Her eyes fall to the items he’s holding. “Still keepin’ up with this shtick?” she jests, unable to help herself from doing so. Her laughter tapers off quickly when he shoots her a hardened look.

“Sorry,” she manages between snickers. “That was rude. M’glad you’re actually enjoyin’ it.”

“This shtick helped me notice a pattern. It’s why I’m here, actually. Looking for more information before I reach out to the professor at UCLA again.”

Paloma reaches out to play with the golden star pinned to his chest, her fingers tracing its edges as she listens intently. “What’s the pattern?” she looks up at him with genuine curiosity.

He explains, and she is truly awestruck at how intricate it all really is. It’s the same feeling she got after watching the press conference. “When’s the next full moon?”

“In two days.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know,” he admits with a sigh, “Maybe enforcing a curfew. Make sure everyone is safe and at home. That won’t be very difficult to do considering the storm that’s headed this way.”

When it rains, it pours. The last time their little town had seen any type of precipitation was the day of Nina’s funeral, and that seems like it was forever ago. Now, they’re being warned of some pretty strong winds and potential flooding.

“Then maybe nothin’ll happen,” she suggests, her voice hopeful.

“I sure fucking hope so,” Javi’s eyes drift to the nearest window where he sees the gray clouds gathering in the distance.

He’s frowning, lost in thought, and she reaches out to get him to look at her again. “No need to get all frowny. Save all that for the town hall later tonight.”

Javier exhales sharply through his nose, rolling his shoulders, his attention back on her. “You excited to see your future husband?”

She knows he’s talking about the mayor, yet she can’t help the way her heart flutters at the idea of that being him. She shakes those delusions away as his brown eyes hold an expectant stare.

“Y’know I could say yes ‘n use this as an opportunity to piss you off, but I’m bein’ good today—so I’m as excited to see him as you are to have to be up there with him.”

“You’re bein’ good today?” He cocks his head to the side, staring down at her with a roguish smile. “And you wouldn’t get very far with trying to piss me off. I know that asshole has nothing on me.”

“I’m always good, Javi,” she purrs, though her tone suggests otherwise. Her eyes darken slightly as she hooks her fingers onto his duty belt, pulling him closer.

His knee moves between her thighs, and she silently curses the fact that she wore jeans to work today. “You might think that, but we dunno know for sure… still gotta try him out myself. See if it really compares.”

The arm that was resting against the shelf comes down, and he wraps his fingers around her throat, holding her with a tantalizing pressure that gets her wet and throbbing.

A gentle moan sneaks past her lips. “You wanna ‘try him out,’ be my guest, nena. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Really, ‘cause it feels like you do,” she quips, her fingers grazing the growing bulge between them.

Javier’s grip on her throat tightens ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing with a possessive intensity. “Cálmate,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl.

“Make me.”

They’re jolted back to reality when a bang echoes from nearby, the sharp sound enough to have him loosen his hold and pull back from her. “Like I said, you make it real fucking hard to be normal about this. ‘I’m always good, Javi’ my ass,” he mocks her with a wry smile.

She giggles, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, as she bites down on her thumb. The sight of him flustered only entertains her further. “M’sorry… can’t help but poke the bear.”

Their moment is further interrupted by the abrupt static of his walkie-talkie coming to life. An officer’s voice garbles through, requesting his assistance with a disturbance at the grocery store.

“Be right there,” Javier responds flatly, his mood shifting as he hands her the books he plucked out. “Weather’s got people acting like fucking idiots. I’ll come back for these later.”

“Don’t sweat it,” she reassures him, clutching them to her chest. “I’ll bring ‘em tonight. Give ‘em to you after the meetin’.”  She’s visibly bummed that their time together is cut short, but remains optimistic about seeing him again. Soon, hopefully. Maybe on another date.

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you then.” Javier leans in for a departing kiss, this one softer and sweeter. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of him calling her baby or any of the other terms of endearment that he has for her.

He adds a gentle nuzzle of his nose against hers before pulling away and making his exit, leaving her feeling all lovestruck against the bookshelf.

He knew the meeting was going to be a shit show. After putting out all relevant information through the press conference, the department has never been busier. Phones ringing left and right with false accusations, bullshit information, and the occasional prank call.

Partially expected but annoying nevertheless. No progress, aside from his own little lunar revelation, has been made.

So it makes sense that the people of Seminary are currently acting out in the stands of the high school’s gym. An unorthodox place to meet, but the rain had exposed leaks in the government building’s weathered roof so they had to improvise and move it here.

Javier leans against the fold out table that is placed right in the middle of the basketball court, arms crossed, watching Jonah Abbott deflect every question thrown his way, answering with something completely unrelated. Typical politician.

He rubs at his temples, craving a cigarette. His eyes scan the crowd until he sees Paloma sitting on the far left side, their gazes meeting and her mouth curving into a small smile which has him feeling a little less miserable about being here.

That is until the crowd starts to get riled up again, being very vocal about their gripes with the murders, as if officials haven’t been working tirelessly to figure things out.

The girl in the hospital remains unconscious and unidentified—who knows when she’ll wake up.

Another dead end just as they thought they were gaining some traction. Their knowledge of the occult only takes them so far.

Fear and anger envelop the room with an oppressive weight, voices escalating, each question sharper and more accusatory than the one before as frustration boils over.

“How can we expect y’all to keep us safe if more dead girls are bein’ found left and right?!” a man shouts, pointing his crooked finger at the three of them.

“This is what happens when we stray from the Lord ‘n quit instillin’ His will onto our children!” an elderly woman with an actual Bible clutched to her chest cries out.

“Maybe s’best if we took matters into our own hands ‘n found this son of a bitch ourselves!” another voice yells, and murmurs of agreement ripple through the crowd.

His jaw tightens. He’s well aware that the deep-seated religious beliefs of this town run strong; and the murders, with their disturbing satanic imagery, have only heightened the community’s fears and suspicions. 

“Folks, I understand your frustration,” Jonah starts and this gets an eye roll out of Javi who plays it off by looking down at his boots, “We’re doin’ everythin’ in our power to find who’s responsible for these heinous crimes. But takin’ the law into your own hands is not. the. answer. It’ll only lead to more chaos and possibly more innocent people gettin’ hurt.”

“The law ain’t doin’ nothin’ but sittin’ back ‘n lettin’ it happen!”

Comments and questions fly at them from all directions, with smaller arguments erupting on either side of the gym. Javier and Romeo exchange a knowing look, silently expressing their shared annoyance.

The sheriff steps up, taking control to regain the order that the incompetent mayor had lost.

“What’s important right now is that we all get prepared for the bad weather that’s hittin’ us pretty bad these next couple of days. S’already startin’ to pick up outside now,” Romeo announces, his deep voice cutting through the chaos.

Quiet murmurs fill the space, the faint sound of rain hitting the roof almost amplified now that it has been pointed out.

“Most of the town is gonna be shuttin’ down tomorrow at midday, so I suggest gettin’ your essentials and supplies tonight or in the mornin’ before you’re shit out of luck,” he continues, his tone brooking no room for nonsense.

His crassness serves its purpose, smothering most of the arguments from before. He motions for his right hand man to continue, and Javier clears his throat, straightening his posture and pushing himself off the table.

“We will be upping patrols and enforcing a curfew after the storm passes through,” His voice reverberates through the room, steady and authoritative. “The anonymous tip line is still running in case anyone sees or hears anything out of the ordinary.”

Javier scans the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as he can, trying to convey his sincerity and determination.

“We understand that these are frightenin’ times,” The sheriff interjects. “We’re dealin’ with somethin’ unprecedented, ‘n it’s natural to feel scared or frustrated. ‘Specially when they’re bastardizin’ the word of God. But we need to stand together, support one another, and trust that we are doin’ everythin’ in our power to bring this person to justice.”

The room is silent now, the only sound is the soft patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder.

Javier notices Paloma again, her eyes fixed on him like he’s the only person in the world, and he almost stumbles over his words as he continues with the more procedural part of the announcement.

“We’re also working closely with weather experts to monitor the storm. We’ll keep you updated with any new information as it comes in. In the meantime, stay vigilant, look out for your neighbors, and follow the curfew to ensure everyone’s safety.”

The townspeople nod, their faces a mix of concern and reluctant acceptance. He knows that words alone won’t be enough to quell their fears, but he hopes that this assembly has at least provided some clarity and direction.

After a few more closing remarks, the meeting ends, and Abbott wastes no time approaching him and the sheriff. “That was great work, gentlemen. Lost ‘em for a second there, but you two wrangled ‘em back under control. S’why I got the best of the best…” his words are slick, and Javier can see right through the man’s bullshit, “that will hopefully bring an end to all this madness soon, right?”

Abbott doesn’t care about the town’s safety—he just wants the murders solved so the media attention goes away. The newfound scrutiny is clearly bothering him.

Apparently there is such thing as bad press.

“We’re workin’ as hard as we can,” Romeo replies curtly, his voice tight with barely restrained irritation.

Javier quickly bows out to ‘prevent any dispute from breaking out in the parking lot’ but really, it’s because he knows he won’t be able to hold his tongue against the arrogant mayor if he’s around him any longer.

He positions himself by the large exit double doors as the crowd files out. Javi nods to those he recognizes from the bar or his frequent patrols in town. The weight of their expectations adds to the already heavy burden on his shoulders.

Just another part of the fucking job.

When the last person exits, he chains the doors closed and jogs over to his truck.

The rain falls gently, wetting his hair and sending droplets running down the roughened texture of his bomber jacket.

“Here are your books, space cowboy.” Paloma’s voice catches him by surprise. She seems to appear out of thin air, a colorful umbrella shielding her from the rain.

“Gracias, palomita,” he takes them from her and puts them in the cab of his truck.

“Tough crowd,” she remarks, looking around as more cars pull out, leaving the lot empty.

“They’re just scared. Fear makes people act out like that.”

“You handled it well. Unlike others…” Her tone carries a hint of amusement, eyeing his wet appearance and how the raindrops fall from the curve of his nose and the cut of his cheekbones. So dreamy.

He chuckles dryly, “Tell me about it.”

Just as the conversation begins to drift into flirtatious territory, Romeo’s car pulls up beside them with the window rolled down.

Javier is glad he resisted the urge to step forward and kiss her in the rain, though he knows she would have liked that.

Her father? Probably not so much.

“Finally got Abbott to stop runnin’ his mouth. S’like talkin’ to a spoiled brat,” he complains, clearly frustrated.

Paloma finds this interesting, especially given how he used to advocate for her to give Jonah a shot and go out on one date with him.

It never happened, and now her father’s irritation is almost a satisfying twist.

“You campin’ out in that dogshit trailer of yours?” Romeo asks Javier, shifting the conversation.

“Don’t have much of a choice.”

“You’re better off stayin’ with us.”

The comment throws him off but he doesn’t convey it, gaze flickering over to Paloma, who has an encouraging look already in her eyes.

Accept the fucking invite! It’s a dangerous, dangerous game, but one he’s foolish enough to be tempted to play.

“You sure?” Javi asks, a subtle trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Positive. Got more than enough room. Beats bein’ hunkered down with just this one,” Romeo jokes, glancing at his daughter.

“Jeez, daddy, thanks,” she playfully shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips as she rounds the car and gets into the passenger seat, closing and shaking off her wet umbrella.

“Alright,” he concedes and she’s over the freaking moon, “Thanks. I appreciate it. See you all tomorrow.”

Romeo nods in acknowledgement and Paloma winks at him behind her father’s back.

She is kneeling over her plants when Javier shows up the following day. The rain from last night and this morning has finally let up, and she’s using this pocket of dryness to put row covers over her garden to shield it from the severe weather.

“I’ve always admired a girl who likes to get her hands dirty,” he says from behind her with a cocky grin. She turns to face him, mud covering her overalls and caking her rain boots.

“How original,” she replies, wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her gloved hand, smearing some dirt there in the process. “So damn humid, feels like the devil’s ballsack out today.”

Javi chuckles and steps closer, affectionately wiping the dirt from her forehead. “You have a way with words, sweetheart. Where’s your dad?”

“Went to get a few last-minute things ‘fore town closed up.”

“So I can kiss you without having to look over my shoulder?”

“Dunno if you wanna do all that when I’m dirtied up like this.”

“I think you wear the mud real nice,” he murmurs, pulling her to him. He places a wet kiss on her lips, which she reciprocates without hesitation, her tongue breaching his mouth.

“Guess I’m not too dirty for you after all,” she whispers when they part, a flirtatious simper ghosting over her mouth.

“Never that, preciosa. Do I need to remind you how dirty you were over the phone the other night?” he raises a brow, voice dropping to a low timbre that sends a thrill up her spine.

“You might, actually…” Her pulse quickens, a flush creeping up her neck as she recalls their late-night conversation.

It was the first time she’d ever done anything like that, and while she felt a bit embarrassed at the start, Javier’s soothing, erotic guidance had turned it into something fucking incredible. Everything he does is fucking incredible.

He hums appreciatively, “Wouldn’t mind that,” his fingers brush a stray strand of hair away from her face.

He leans in again, capturing her lips in another kiss. His hands slide down to her hips, tracing the exposed skin along the side openings of her overalls, squeezing gently.

Paloma could really die a happy woman in his arms. 

Javier groans softly, the sound vibrating against her mouth, making her knees weak. “I should help you finish covering these plants before the storm hits,” his tone makes it clear he’s struggling to pull himself away from her. “Before your dad gets home.” He clarifies. 

“Yeah, you probably should,” she agrees, but not without placing a sweet peck to his chin.

As if she needed his help, but hey, when a man is willing; why not unload some of the labor onto him? 

She hands him a row cover, her fingers lingering on his as they exchange the material. “Can’t have ya standin’ around lookin’ all pretty while I do all the hard work.” She beams.

“We certainly can’t have that,” there’s a grin on his face as he moves to help her finish the task.

Javier’s hands are deft and strong as he secures the covers, getting dirtied up and looking straight up manly. It has her clit tingling with arousal, imagining his fingers inside of her again and how fucking amazing they felt when she rode them in the bed of his truck. 

Between his uniformed presence and country boy charm—this man is going to be the death of her.

His eyes never stray far from her, drinking in every detail of her mud-splattered appearance as she moves between planter boxes.

She catches him looking each time, sending a wink his way and his tongue pokes against his cheek bashfully.

He can’t help it, Paloma is just so beautiful.

A piece of wood, obscured by the mud, has Javier tripping over it, his feet betraying him as he loses balance on the slick, muddy ground.

Her hands fly up to cover her mouth in shock, eyes wide as she watches him go down, mud splattering everywhere.

She almost bursts into laughter but catches herself, the worry for him outweighing the amusement.

“Oh my goodness gracious, are you okay?!” she rushes towards him and discards her gloves.

Javier lies on his back, the cold, wet mud oozing through his shirt and coating his skin. He looks up at her, squinting one eye close. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he grunts, despite the faint ache he feels at his lower back.

Sitting up, he extends his hand towards her to get him back on his feet.

As soon as their hands touch, he seizes the moment. With a mischievous grin, he yanks her down with him.

She gasps, a startled shriek escaping her lips as she tumbles into the thick, squelchy mud beside him. 

“I knew you were goin’ to do that!” she exclaims with exasperation and laughter.

“And yet you still tried to help me up anyway,” he retorts with a playful smirk.

With a flick of her wrist, she sends a handful of mud flying at him. It lands squarely on his cheek, sliding down in a comical, slow-motion descent until it plops into a heap on his lap.

“Oops,” she says with a feigned innocence.

In mere moments, they’re both engulfed in a muddy, joyful chaos. They spring to their feet and Javier begins to chase her around the garden, both of them taking turns flinging mud at each other.

They’re so engrossed in their antics that they don’t notice Romeo’s return.

The sight of them through the large bay window in the kitchen catches him off guard. He furrows his brows, puzzled and slightly amused by the raucous scene.

“Y’all look like a pair ‘a pigs runnin’ around like this.” her father’s voice rings out, dripping with bemusement as he descends the back porch steps.

His sturdy boots thud against the wooden planks when he approaches, gaze sweeping over them, taking in the sight of their disheveled, mud-coated figures.

“Javi slipped tryin’ to help me put the covers on and it was the funniest thing ever,” Paloma explains, her voice a little too high-pitched as she fails to clean herself up completely, wiping at her muddy cheeks, only managing to spread it further.

“Well, I reckon that’s one way to make a mess of things,” Romeo drawls, his gaze fixed on Javier with a pointed, almost accusatory edge.

Javier, caked in mud and feeling every bit like an overgrown teenager caught in trouble, manages a self-deprecating laugh. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”

He knows he needs to have the awkward conversation sooner rather than later. He has to tell Romeo about his relationship with Paloma and face whatever fallout comes with it.

She insists that her father will eventually come around, but it’s the immediate, explosive reaction that he dreads. He has to brace himself for the storm of anger and disappointment that is sure to erupt.

It won’t happen today nor tomorrow—not when he’s been offered shelter under his roof that Javi had stupidly agreed to, just to be near his fucking daughter.

What’s romance without a little risk?

“Well shit, if you wanna rinse off, I’d give it about…” Romeo glances up at the sky, his eyes calculating the darkening clouds. “Ten minutes ‘fore it starts raining again. Or you can use the hose,” he adds, gesturing towards the garden hose coiled beside the shed. 

“M’not gonna get caught in the storm. Don’t wanna get shocked up. We’ll use the hose.” Paloma replies.

“Right,” he grunts, rubbing his jaw. He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I gotta finish puttin’ everythin’ away inside. Sure I can trust y’all out here?”

What a loaded fucking question.

“We’ll be fine, daddy. S’just a little mud.”

“I’ll try not to slip again,” Javier adds with a dry laugh, hoping he didn’t just make himself look like a clumsy idiot in front of the older man.

The sheriff snorts and gives a curt nod. “Alright then, you do that. Don’t need y’all trackin’ muck into the house.” He mutters, turning on his heel and heading back inside. 

Javier watches him go, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he turns to Paloma. “Skatin’ on thin ice,” he says, beginning to walk towards the shed and trying to get some of the wet dirt off him.

Paloma’s smile fades slightly, a hint of frustration edging her words. “Wouldn’t be if someone––”

“Okay,” he cuts her off gently, already knowing where that conversation is headed. “Let’s rinse off before he comes back out here and kicks my ass.”

She huffs out a laugh, “Fine. Glad you knew where I was goin’ with that.”

Javier reaches for the hose, adjusting the nozzle to a gentle spray, then aims it at her soiled overalls. The cool water hits the fabric, making the mud dissolve into dark, swirling rivulets. As the grime starts to wash away, he moves methodically, making sure to hit every spot.

Paloma watches him, her heart warming at his careful attention. The water cascades down her clothes, revealing glimpses of her soft curves beneath the mess.

When he’s done, she takes the hose from him with a mischievous grin. “Mi turno.”

As she works, she decides to be bold by reaching out to touch him. Her fingers brush against his skin and Javier’s throat bobs, meeting her eyes with a wary look then glancing over her shoulder to make sure Romeo wasn’t watching them from the house.

“Thin. Ice.” He repeats.

“Live a little,” she counters with a playful lilt.

She leans in closer, her wet body brushing against his as she continues to rinse. The proximity feels like a charged exchange of impulsiveness since they both can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, even with the looming threat of her father’s presence just inside. 

When she finishes, Paloma sets the hose down, her fingers lingering longer than necessary, his shirt clinging to his torso, accentuating the lines of his muscles, luring her in.

She looks up at him. “All clean.”

“You want him to kill me.”

“No, this is just fun… ‘n I love seein’ you squirm like a lil worm.”

He licks across the bottom row of his teeth, “You keep fuckin’ around like this, nena, and I’ll have no choice but to put you in your place.” She wants him to squirm, fine, but he’ll make sure to return that energy tenth fold.

“That a promise?”

“You really want to see how far you can push me, huh?”

“Un poco.” She pinches her thumb and pointer finger together, mocking him and he scoffs.

“Gettin’ in over your head babygirl. Now’s not the time to do this, not when I can’t bend you over and fuck you stupid. Then you wouldn’t have a choice but to shut up and be compliant.”

Oh fuck, his words go straight to her pussy and her heart skips a beat. “Who says you can’t do that?”

Javier groans. Nope, not doing this right now. “You’re baiting me like a fuckin’ fish and I’m not gettin’ hooked. Inside. Go.”

She smirks like she’s just won the fucking lottery, stomping back towards the house with her chin held high.

If anyone is in over their heads here it’s him, accepting Romeo’s invitation to stay knowing Paloma is his greatest temptation.

The rest of the afternoon unfolds with a sense of normalcy, despite the tempest raging outside. The sky has grown dark, pierced by occasional flashes of lightning that illuminate the living room. Thunder rumbles intermittently, its low growl resonating through the house, while the wind howls and the rain pelts against the windows, creating a rhythmic drumming sound that is soothing yet insistent.

Inside, the atmosphere is comforting. After showering off their mess from the mud, they settle into the warmth of the house.

Paloma busies herself in the kitchen, preparing an early dinner just in case the power goes out. 

They used to have a back up generator, but it crapped out on them last year and her father, ever the forgetful one, never got around to replacing it.

Javier and Romeo are engrossed in a tense card game at the dining table, their competitive banter punctuated by the clinking of chips and the shuffling of cards.

They sneak glances at each other every so often, their eyes conveying what they can’t say aloud.

Lingering touches become their secret language—his fingers brushing her arm when he scoots past her to grab another beer from the fridge, her body pressing subtly against his as she reaches over to grab something from the table.

If there was ever a time to show restraint, it’s now. She treats this as a game, trying to get him to break in front of her father, to force him into a confrontation.

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, daring him to give in. He meets her gaze with a steady determination, silently promising that he won’t let her win so easily.

Eventually the three of them migrate to the living room. Romeo, having suggested an old movie to pass the time, is sprawled out on the couch, his snores becoming a steady background noise.

The movie plays on the screen, its dialogue a distant murmur amidst the storm. It’s a miracle the power hasn’t gone out yet.

Paloma uses this brief respite to seize a moment alone with Javier.

Quietly beckoning him down the hall, she leads him to the family dining room where a grand piano sits in the corner. It was a gift from the church, given to her on her tenth birthday.

After flicking on the lamp, she settles onto the bench, her fingers poised above the keys with a delicate grace.

She begins to play, her touch tentative at first, then gradually more confident as the familiar notes fill the room.

Javier leans against the door frame, mesmerized by the scene before him. He watches her intently, captivated by the subtle expressions that flit across her face as she listens to each note, her eyes closed in concentration.

He breaks the spell with a gentle question, “How long have you been playing?”

She glances over at him, her expression wistful. “Ever since I could, really. Momma wasted no time in teachin’ me.” Her voice carries a touch of nostalgia, a subtle sadness that she hopes goes unnoticed.

She’s relieved when Javier doesn’t press further. Instead, he simply nods, his understanding evident in his gaze.

“Come sit,” Paloma invites, her voice honeyed like it always is. She shifts slightly on the bench, patting the empty space beside her.

Javier moves to join her, their shoulders brushing. He’s too damn broad to be sitting on this small ass seat.

He does feels a flutter of excitement at hearing her like this. It’s different from her shows at the bar, more intimate and personal, reminding him of that time in the shed when he was fixing her car and she played her guitar.

The memory of her song about Nina, which she hasn’t brought up since that day, lingers in his mind.

“It ain’t anythin’ new, just an old song I wrote after George,” she begins, and a small, sad smile touches her lips. He wants to kiss it away. “It’s my favorite to play on the piano. You can really feel the heartbreak.”

“Your heartbreak?” he asks, the question slipping out before he can catch it. He bites the inside of his lip, worried that he’s overstepped somehow.

“Mhm,” she doesn’t mind, opening the folder that rests against the music desk and pulling out her short-hand sheet music. “Took me so long to finish it. I was stuck on this bench for what felt like an eternity before I got it done.”

He doesn’t know what to say and she doesn’t expect him to be necessarily chatty. They’re taking turns showing their vulnerability, sharing a little at a time at a pace that seems to be benefiting them both and their relationship.

The room is filled with the soft, melodic strains of the piano as she starts again, blending with the patter of rain and rumbling of the thunder. Her voice joins shortly after, and the entire time Javier can’t keep his eyes off her. 

Beneath the warmth of his admiration, Paloma feels oh so exposed. She’s never played this for anyone before, and the only reason she’s doing it now is because she wants him to understand why it’s so important to her that he doesn’t love her in secret. That he doesn’t string her along.

She’s already been through that heartbreak before, and it left her with this nasty, harrowing feeling that didn’t go away for years. Now, considering everything they’ve been through, she knows she won’t be able to recover if things go awry again.

And he listens—Javi listens to each word that falls from her lips, her voice soft to compliment their surroundings.

She’s got real talent; he’s known that from the dozens of times he’s been at her shows, hell it was evident at the fair. But here, with just her voice and the piano, weaving a story that is both haunting and beautiful; she’s opened herself up to him, letting him glimpse her pain.

She doesn’t do it in a verbal confrontation; she does it in her own way, and the message comes across just the same.

Sure, Javier might not be good with words, but he doesn’t need them to let her in. He just needs to lower his guard and not hide from her or any of his past grievances.

He’s never met anyone who makes him self-reflect as much as she does.

As the final notes fade into the quiet, the sounds of the weather seamlessly take their place. Paloma’s fingers linger on the keys as she turns to look at him, “What’d ya think?”

Javier reaches out, stroking her cheek affectionately. “Increíble, cariño. Can’t imagine how hard it was for you to go through that.” he replies, words laden with sincerity.

A small yet genuine smile paints itself on her face and she shrugs lightly, “It was tough, but I’m a tough girl. Got through it eventually…” she trails off, attention flickering to the keys before meeting his brown eyes again, “And I know I’m bein’ kinda anal about you tellin’ my daddy ‘n stuff but there’s reasonin’ behind it. I wanted you to know that reason. You make me feel all these...things. Things I’ve felt before. Things I’ve lost. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“And it won’t.” He reassures her, tone hushed as to not wake her father.

The lights flicker suddenly and they both look towards the lamp before he’s getting her to look at him again.

“Paloma, those things you feel. I feel them too and I don’t want to fuck ‘em up either. Te quiero a ti (I want you), mi corazón, te necesito (I need you). Like fuckin’ air. It’s ridiculous how spun you’ve got me.”

Paloma’s heart swells at his words, the rawness of them, and she doesn’t give a fuck if her dad was to walk in in this very moment; she lurches forward to kiss him, holding his jaw tenderly.

The power finally gives out, accompanied with a deafening crash of lightning, plunging the room into darkness. The storm outside intensifies, its ferocity underscored by the unrelenting roar of thunder.

They pull back abruptly, but he’s still close enough to brush his nose against the soft skin of her cheek. He needs her so bad.

Paloma’s eyes flutter close at the feel of his warm breath caressing her, a polarizing energy drawing them together and she almost crawls onto his lap.

She hears her father’s voice calling for her and she wishes she hadn’t. Wishes he wasn’t around at all so she could take Javier right here on the fucking piano.

She moves off the bench, flustered completely, shouting down the hall, “We’re gettin’ the lanterns outta the closet to set ‘em up.”

Javier clears his throat, following her down the shadowy hallway until they’re at the closet, watching her rummage through it.

The dim light from the lightning intermittently illuminates her figure, making her movements more sensual than they should be.

When his vision becomes clouded by lust, it’s hard for him to focus on anything that isn’t his subject of affection. That currently being her.

His gaze lingers on her bent over figure, her leggings hugging her curves just right, shirt riding up to expose a slither of skin at her lower back. “No candles?”

“Not safe in a storm like this,” she replies, pulling out a taped up cardboard box. “Don’t want the house goin’ up in flames if the gas lines get hit.”

Turning to look over her shoulder, she smirks when she sees that he’s distracted. “Hey handsome, my eyes are up here.”

“And while your eyes are definitely worth admiring, I’m more intrigued by this ass you got, baby.” He can’t help but deliver a slight spank.

A flush creeps up her cheeks and she gasps his name softly, “Just go put these out by the kitchen and living room, please.”

“Si, jefa.” His grin widens, clearly enjoying her reaction, as he takes the box and heads toward the main rooms, leaving her to handle upstairs.

When Paloma rejoins them in the kitchen, she finds Javier and her father standing by the window, their faces illuminated by the flickering light of the lanterns. They peer out into the storm, watching the rain lash against the windowpane.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of these,” she comments.

Romeo, with a small scowl, shakes his head. “Leave it to everyone in town to think this is the work of the devil.”

She snorts at the remark, recognizing the truth in it. A weather anomaly in their small town is enough to stir up wild tales and superstitions. That atop of all the rising tensions and well…

“Yeah, one odd storm, and it’s suddenly the apocalypse,” Javier quips.

She moves to set the table. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to have dinner. In case the end times really are amongst us.”

They sit around the table, their conversation punctuated by the occasional rumble of thunder. As they finish their meal and clean up, her father clears his throat and stretches, glancing out at the downpour with a tired sigh. “I’m turnin’ in for the night,” he announces. 

Paloma and Javier exchange glances, her drying off plates next to her dad and him leaning against the kitchen island, trying not to show how eager they are to be left alone.

“Me too. Probably gonna read a bit before bed. Javier, we’ve set up my old playroom for you to stay in.” His lips twitch at the use of his full first name, and he looks at them both, rubbing his lips together.

“I appreciate you letting me bunker down here.”

“Not a problem. Wouldn’t be surprised if we saw your tin can blowin’ across the yard.” Romeo jokes, drying his hands off then leaning over to pinch at his daughter’s nose affectionately, like he always does. She scrunches her face up in response.

“Night y’all. Javier help yourself to anything.”

He bites back a smirk, the first response to cross his mind being like your daughter? Like the smug bastard that he is. Instead, he gives him a curt nod. “Thank you, goodnight.”

“Night daddy.”

There’s a charged silence as Romeo saunters down the hall, and it’s not until they hear his bedroom door click close that he rounds the counter and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“Help myself to anything I want. Hm…” he whispers hotly into her ear, one hand moving up to grope her breast, the other toying with the band of her leggings.

She exhales shakily, letting her head fall back against his shoulder and closing her eyes as she enjoys his touch on her body, the way she can feel his erection poking against her ass. “What happened to you not gettin’ hooked?”

He sees the small smirk on her face and he squeezes his grip on her tit, nibbling along her neck. She shudders.

“Shut up.”

Javier spins her around, caging her between him and the counter, dark eyes boring into hers. He goes in for a proper kiss but she stops him, pointer finger pressing against his pursed lips.

He growls her name out and it’s almost drowned out by the wave of thunder that rolls by.

“Meet me in my room in an hour.” She whispers, dropping her hand and spreading her palm against the center of his chest, pushing him back so she’s able to slip away from him.

“Always a tease,” he grumbles, adjusting himself in his sweatpants.

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Paloma walks backwards, blowing him a kiss before disappearing upstairs.

Javier stands on the other side of her door, exactly an hour later as instructed. He rasps his knuckles softly against the wood, and the door opens immediately.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

They share a moment of silence, exchanging a lustful stare before she opens the door wider for him to come in.

“This is a bad idea, bebita. Your dad is just downstairs.” Though the statement dies on his tongue as his eyes rake over her body.

She’s wearing his red checkered flannel, the one he had let her wear the night of the Fourth of July. She hasn’t got anything on under it aside from the only thong she owns, since she isn’t privy to them.

Usually, she would just forgo underwear altogether instead of wearing the uncomfortable scrap of fabric.

But it’s serving its purpose right now.

The flannel doesn’t smell like him anymore since she’d washed it, but she still liked how soft it felt against her skin.

Plus, she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist once he saw her in it.

“Then we’ll have to be quiet.” Her voice drops to a whisper, walking him back until he’s sat at the edge of her bed, Paloma standing between his spread legs and her hands cupping his face.

He swallows hard, his large hands automatically finding her hips, sliding under the flannel to feel the warmth of her skin. “You look incredible.”

Paloma leans in, her lips ghosting over his. “I wore it just for you.”

Javier’s heart races as he feels the heat emanating from her body. He gently tugs her closer, exploring the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her hips, then grabbing her ass. “You’re killing me, princesa.”

She loves hearing that coming from him.

“You gonna be able to stay quiet? Last time we had to be, I had to shut you up myself.” His touch shifts to the back of her thighs, fingers caressing the soft skin there, eyes focused on her and how she reacts to him.

Two lanterns bathe her room in warm light, casting a glow that aids her in her quest to seduce him.

“I think I can manage this time.” She ducks her head to kiss him, not hungrily or passionately, but slowly, savoring the taste of mint that lingers on his tongue.

His lips travel from her mouth to her jawline, and down the sensitive skin of her neck.

“Javi?”

“¿Si, muñeca?”

“I need your help with something.”

“What’s that, baby?”

“Need you to talk me through sucking your dick.”

He pulls back abruptly, blinking rapidly as he processes her words. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat it,” she juts her lower lip out, “I’ve… well I’ve never done it before and I really, really really want to do it with you.” She sounds desperate but she doesn’t care.

Paloma’s been fantasizing about it for a while now, the desire to do it only growing the more intimate they got. Her mind has been filled with images of him, his reactions, and the way he might look at her with that smoldering gaze of his.

The thought of pleasing him, of having his taste and scent overwhelm her, has her buzzing with a heady mix of excitement and nervousness.

“I’m having a hard time believing that. You’ve got perfect fuckin’ lips,” soft, plump, just begging to have a cock between them.

She giggles, feeling his fingers toying with the thin strap of her thong. “Thank you. I’d like to put ‘em to use if you don’t mind.”

He blows out a breath, trying to keep his composure. “How inexperienced are we talking here?” Javier’s cock is already twitching, knowing that no one has breached this part of her and that he’s the one who gets to do it is making him delirious.

“I know what it is. Given a hand job before but never had one down my throat,” she admits, her cheeks flushed.

He grunts at her wording. “I’ve seen a few dirty flicks where the girl’s done it. I think m’capable, but I wanna know what you like. How you want me to take it.”

“You can’t say things like that and expect me to keep my shit together.”

Another giggle escapes her lips as she slowly moves to her knees, the plush rug cushioning her descent. Her dainty hands come to rest on his muscular thighs, fingers gently kneading the fabric of his gray sweatpants.

He looks irresistibly sexy in his casual attire, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants that do nothing to hide the raw masculinity that has her already dripping wet, eagerly awaiting his instructions.

The look she gives him—those eyes, brimming with lust—makes him wish he had a video camera to capture this moment.

He wants to immortalize the way her lips part slightly, how her breath quickens, the way her hands tremble with enthusiasm.

He wants to be able to replay it over and over again, to remember how she looks up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze filled with an intensity that sends a jolt of arousal straight to his cock.

“Unbutton the shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits of yours, sweetheart.” 

Her thighs clench, fingers flying to the buttons of the flannel, deftly popping them open to reveal her chest, a shiver skipping over her exposed skin and perking her nipples.

Javier’s eyes darken with hunger as he licks his lips slowly, savoring the sight before him.

He brings his hand up, cupping her left breast, his thumb brushing over her skin in teasing strokes. His calloused touch sends a ripple of pleasure through her, responding with ragged breaths.

Just as she starts to lean into his hand, he pulls away, leaving her yearning for more.

“Now touch me, princesa. Feel how hard you got me.”

This is how she dies, she thinks, with Javier Peña talking her through her first blowjob. Their little erotic phone call had been one experience, and now he is bestowing another one upon her. In the same week.

Maybe she’s already dead.

Her palm glides up and down his length, tracing the hardening outline over the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The sight of her full tits and pebbled nipples enough to get him fully hard.

Paloma leans in, gently lifting the hem of his tee out of the way. She places a delicate kiss just above his waistband, her lips brushing against the warm skin of his lower abdomen and her nose scrunching as the dark trail of hair tickles her.

Her hand continues its rhythmic motion, eliciting a slow, deep exhale from him— unspoken encouragement to keep going.

“So big,” she murmurs, “don’t know how I’m goin’ to fit it all in my mouth.” Her tongue darts out, teasingly licking around his belly button, causing his stomach to tighten in anticipation.

“Don’t worry, muñeca,” he coos, “We’ll make it fit.”

With starry eyes, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of his bottoms, slowly dragging them down. He lifts his hips to help her, the fabric sliding off and pooling around his ankles.

His cock springs free, resting heavily against his pelvis.

Her eyes widen, mouth watering.

She’s felt his impressive size, but seeing it so closely in the flesh sends thudding pressure to her clit, blood rushing with a desperate need to please him.

He’s thick and perfectly sized with an enticing curve that has her tongue moving involuntarily in her mouth. The skin is a shade lighter than the rest of him, currently flushed a deep, heated red, the smooth head throbbing and glistening with precum dripping from the slit.

“Damn, Javi,” she purrs, a content hum vibrating through her chest. “Every part of you is handsome.” It makes her heart race, and she can feel heat licking at her labia, eager to show him just how much she aches for him.

He exhales through his nose, stroking her hair and gently urging her forward. “Give it a kiss, bebita.”

“Where?”

“Donde tú quieras.”

She sucks her teeth, contemplating how she wants to do this. The soft lighting of the room and the flashes of silver from the lightning outside accentuate every ridge and curve of his cock—making it look so yummy.

Javi can feel her warm breath fanning over him, then the blissful wetness of her plump lips as she presses them against the blazing skin of his base. Her tongue follows, tracing the path of a thick vein with deliberate slowness.

He curses under his breath, biting down on his tongue to stifle any involuntary noises, but fuck, it feels good.

Her tongue traces the protruding vein all the way to the top, circling around the head, mimicking what she’s seen in the pornos. More precum leaks from his slit, and she laps at it thirstily, welcoming the peculiar flavor. The salty tang mingles with the taste of his skin, driving her fucking crazy.

“It doesn’t look like I have to teach you much, chiquita, you’re doing an amazing fuckin’ job so far.” Javier praises, continuing to stroke her hair with a satisfied, wolfish grin playing at his lips.

“Really?” She seeks his approval like a drowning woman seeking air.

“Of course. Always so good for me.” His dark eyes gleam with ardor, “Now get it wet, baby, so it can slip in your mouth easily.”

Obedient as ever and fueled by his praise, her tongue moves with sinful precision, eyes fluttering close as she focuses on licking every inch, using her lips to press open mouthed kisses all over.

More saliva gathers in her mouth, and she deliberately lets a thick, glistening strand fall from her lips, dribbling over the sensitive tip and trailing slowly down the full length of him.

Paloma’s hand comes up, fingers wrapping around his dick with a teasing grip. Her movements are slow, pumping him gently.

“Your nails look so sexy wrapped around my cock like this baby holy fuck,” Javier can’t help but compliment as she squeezes him, clenching his jaw. “That’s right, así mero princesa, shit.” He grunts, the hand that had been tenderly stroking her hair now tangles into her long, silken strands, fingers gripping and gently tugging, a primal response to her actions.

He mentioned a long time ago how much he loved it when a woman had a fresh manicure, and Paloma, ever wanting to get his attention, has not missed a single appointment with her manicurist since.

“Got ‘em done just for you,” she coos, winking up at him and leaning forward to purse her lips, slapping his fat head against them.

“Gettin’ yourself all done up for me? Mi muñequita so eager to please. Go ahead and put me in your mouth. Wanna see those pretty lips around my cock.”

She can feel her slick dampening her panties, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good. Show up any other woman he’s ever taken to bed.

Holding him steady at the base, she parts her lips and slowly envelops his cock in her hot mouth.

The heavy, pulsing weight of him pressing down on her tongue amplifies her craving for more. His slick, warm flesh, generously coated in her spit, has him sliding effortlessly into her mouth.

Javier brings his fist up to bite into it, letting out a choked groan.

The weather continues its tyranny outdoors and he’s fucking grateful that it’s loud enough to cover the sounds of pleasure she’s pulling from him. “Take it slow, baby, open your jaw a little more.”

She listens, lowering her chin and taking him deeper into her mouth. The blunt tip grazes the back of her throat, causing her to gag and she pulls back, struggling to catch her breath.

The feeling is overwhelming, yet exhilarating.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks in a low, gravelly murmur, eyelids heavy as he watches her.

The fingers previously tangled in her hair now brush away the few stray strands that have fallen forward behind her ear.

She responds with a breathy hum of affirmation, determined to push him further down her throat. But her eagerness causes her to overestimate her capacity, resulting in a sputtering mess as she chokes and coughs, droplets of her saliva splattering over him.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he soothes, his thumb gently swiping at the spit on her lower lip. “Take it easy. S’not a race.” The tender gesture only heightens her arousal.

“I jus’ wanna make you feel good, Javi,” she replies, voice hoarse from the strain of her attempt at deep throating.

“Trust me, you’re doing just fine. Here, let me help.” His hand moves to the nape of her neck, carefully guiding her closer. 

He slowly breaches her mouth with his cock again, slipping in and out in a gentle rhythm. He helps her find a steady pace, his care and control transforming the act into more of an intimate experience.

“Atta girl, just like that. Tan hermosa,” he murmurs, admiring the view of her flushed face. “Think you can handle it all on your own now?”

She responds with a soft nod, the subtle move has her teeth just barely grazing his throbbing cock and it makes him shudder, jaw going slack.

More confident and her jaw worked open more, Paloma hollows her cheeks and blows him with keenness.

Her hands join in, one cradling his balls while the other wraps around his dick, stroking him in time with her mouth.

She looks up at him through her wet lashes, a loving glint twinkling in her eyes.

Javier curses under his breath, head lolling back and eyes fluttering close as her mouth and tongue work together to tread the fine fucking line of his orgasm. 

She takes him deeper, her swollen lips stretching around his cock while her jaw aches from accommodating him.

He gathers her hair into a loose ponytail with his fist, hips starting to move in tandem with her mouth. “Just like that, palomita.”

She’s got the hang of it now, able to take him all in, nose brushing against the tuft of hair at his base that’s damp with the saliva from her ministrations. 

The storm rages outside, but here, in this moment, all he can focus on is the exquisite torment of her mouth tightening the coil at the base of his spine.

Paloma stills, swallowing around his length and he praises her in a hushed whisper.

Javi gently strokes her cheek with his fingertips, his touch tender and reassuring, the contrast of his soft caress with the way she’s got him down her throat making her heart do jumping jacks.

She struggles to breathe but she doesn’t really give a fuck. The intense thrill of his reactions has her losing herself completely, thighs tensing together.

Her thong, now drenched with her own excited mess, sticks to her pussy; reminding her of how hot and bothered she is from just blowing him.

Between her tight throat, swirling tongue, and pretty gags, Javier has to pull her off of him before he spills his load down her throat.

Gasping for air, her eyes are glazed with tears of both pleasure and strain.

She looks up at him again with an expression so intoxicating—he nearly paints her face at the sight. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nada, cariño. I’d just like to fuck your pussy and not come down your throat tonight.” Some other time, for sure.

“I take it as I did a good job?”

“Best I’ve ever had.”

Paloma’s lips curl into a triumphant smirk, brown eyes glowing with satisfaction at his praise. She licks her lips, savoring the lingering taste of him as she leans in, pressing a final kiss on the sensitive tip of his cock with the electrifying touch of her lips.

Slowly, she rises from her knees, her movements fluid and deliberately sensual. She trails heated, open-mouthed kisses up his torso, each touch igniting a feverish path on his skin.

As she moves, she pulls his shirt up along with her, her soft breasts brushing against his firm stomach.

He reacts quickly, shedding the shirt and tossing it aside.

Their lips finally meet in a fervent kiss. It’s messy and passionate—they’re drunk off each other.

“How do you want me?” Paloma asks in a sultry whisper.

“Face down, ass up,” he grunts, pushing the flannel off her shoulders, eager to feel more of her bare skin beneath his touch.

She positions herself on the bed, her face nuzzling against the soft mountain of pillows, arms stretched out in front of her.

The recently fixed headboard offers a silent promise; no noise will give them away, and they won’t have to worry about getting caught.

That’s the last thing they need.

Whether they’re able to keep quiet themselves is an entirely different thing.

Javier, now fully nude, strokes his cock slowly, savoring the sight before him. Her plump ass is on full display, tantalizingly framed by the thin, barely-there panties.

He grunts with satisfaction, his gaze hungrily devouring the view of her pretty pussy, ready for him to take.

As he closes the distance between them, he kneads her ass cheeks firmly, the smoothness of her skin and the way she molds to his touch triggering a searing lust in him. 

Every fantasy he’d ever had about her in this position is now a vivid, thrilling reality. He’s intent on taking full advantage of this, to make her his in every sense. 

“Don’t know if I can trust you to stay quiet,” he murmurs as he slowly pulls down her underwear, a string of her slick sticking to it, making the sight so fucking erotic.

Paloma can’t help but sway her hips, enticing him further, as she lays bare on the mattress. “I will be, honey, I promise.” She turns her head to try and get a better look at him, cheek resting on the cushion.

“Can’t take that risk. Not tonight.” The bed dips when he positions himself behind her, and his broad frame bends over hers, chest to her back, wet cock brushing up against the skin of her ass. “Abre,” he commands lowly into her ear and she whimpers, parting her lips.

Her eyes go wide with surprise and her pulsating sex drools when he shoves her damp, ruined panties into her mouth. The fabric is cool against her tongue, tinged with her own tangy scent, and she can taste the remnants of her arousal.

Her moan is swallowed by the material, muffled and contained, amplifying the sensation of helpless pleasure that floods her senses.

“Calladita te ves más bonita (you look prettier with your mouth shut),” he taunts, placing a kiss to her cheek, bristling mustache dragging at her shoulder, until he straightens up and takes his cock into his hand again, slowly rubbing it along her slit and spreading their mess all over her cunt.

Paloma clenches around nothing in anticipation, arching her back and spreading her knees a little more to give him the perfect angle to rut into her. 

He sinks into her pussy slowly, growling expletives under his breath at how fucking amazing she feels positioned like this. Her tight, wet heat wrapping around him as he splits her open on his girth. “Sucking me in so well, amor, just like that fucking mouth of yours.”

Every sound of ecstasy gets lost on the now wet cloth as drool pools from her lips, brain absolutely melting once he’s balls deep inside of her, the weight of them pressed up against her clit.

All she can think and feel is him. He doesn’t give her a moment to adjust, pulling out until only his fat head is inside before roughly snapping his hips against hers.

The pace he sets is deliciously brutal, tears sting at her eyes as he presses up against that spot inside her that makes more juices drip out of her pussy and slather all over his dick.

Javier is completely entranced, watching as her cunt stretches open for him each time he rolls his hips, spitting his cock out, covered in her creamy arousal.

He spreads her cheeks to get the best view possible, biting his lip harshly and digging his fingertips into her skin.

The thunderstorm doesn’t let up, perfectly masking the filthy sounds of their fucking. “Feels fucking amazing baby, shit, can feel you clenching around me. Love being gagged, don’t you?” He can’t help himself, moving his hands so one hand tangles itself in her long hair, pulling at it so she’s on all fours now while the other grabs onto her hip.

Like a doll, she lets him move her however the hell he wants. Her arms tremble as she holds herself up, her scalp burning from his firm grip, each tug cascading waves of blissful electricity all over, starting at her toes.

Sex with Javier is unlike anything she’s ever experienced—raw, fiery, and profoundly exhilarating.

As he moves, her body dances to his rhythm, each motion perfectly synchronized with his. The soft flesh of her ass jiggles enticingly with each thrust, the twin dimples at the base of her spine deepening and winking at him.

Beads of sweat glisten on her golden skin, trailing seductively down the arch of her spine. He leans closer, his tongue darting out to lap at a single drop of perspiration, savoring the salty sweetness.

Paloma keens, bringing one hand back to dig her nails into his wrist as he fucks her like those stars in the dirty flicks.

Javier moves quickly, pinning both of her wrists at the base of her spine, her face falling flat on the pillows and further making it hard for her to breathe. She loves it, loves the way he’s manhandling her.

His balls tighten, as does the grip on her wrists.

He’s right at the edge of his precipice. But he can’t let go just yet—not without getting her off first. “So proud of you for taking this cock so well, muñeca. C’mon, baby, come all over it. I can feel how close you are. She’s grippin’ me so tight. Doesn’t want me to leave.”

Paloma squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating on the relentless way he fucks into her. Her walls convulse around his shaft, each stroke lighting up every nerve in her body.

He’s filling her to the brim, burying every bit of his soul and essence into her pussy.

It’s a raw and intimate exchange, a way he opens up and surrenders himself to her.

She sings, he fucks. He’s finding a healthier way to fuck his feelings into his woman without the devastating angst.

Unlike before, where passion was tangled with pain and regret, he now seeks a more fulfilling release.

Javier finds solace in their sex.

A stark white flash of lightning illuminates the room, casting fleeting shadows over their intertwined bodies, followed by the familiar, rolling rumble of thunder. The storm outside mirrors the tempestuous passion in her bedroom.

Thank-fucking-God her daddy was a heavy sleeper.

He yanks her up, pressing his chest flush against her back and trapping her wrists between them, the heat of their bodies melding them together.

One arm snakes around to grab her bouncing tit, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, while his other slips down to her clit, alternating between softly pinching and rubbing circles against the sticky, sensitive flesh.

“When I pull the panties out your mouth, I want you to moan my name. You understand?” he whispers hotly into her ear. At first, she’s too lost in the pleasure he’s bringing her to fully grasp his words, mind clouded with nothing but Javier Peña.

He delivers a particularly harsh thrust, making her gasp and snapping her eyes open––bringing her back to the present.

Repeating himself in a throaty and commanding voice, she nods faintly, understanding now, her body quivering.

After a few more intensely euphoric moments, another strike splits the sky. Javier hastily removes the gag from her mouth, his fingers brushing her lips. “Give it to me, Paloma,” He grits through his teeth.

And she does. The crack of the lightning and the storm’s thunder roar loudly, shaking the house, her primal cry of bliss drowned out by the heavy noise.

“Javi!” her jaw falls open, walls contracting tightly around his dick, milking him as her climax crashes into her.

The sensation is so much, she nearly blacks out, her vision swimming in a haze of pleasure. Paloma’s body tenses, and that’s all it takes for him to follow suit.

Javier tightens his grip on her, his fingers pulling at her nipple as his own orgasm hits.

His cock twitches, releasing his hot seed deep inside her, filling her up completely. He grunts against her neck, his breath ragged, teeth finding and sinking into her damp skin.

He kisses her sloppily, leaving a trail of wetness from his tongue as he marks her, claiming her in their shared moment of fucking paradise.

They stay like that for a few moments, bodies entwined, hearts pounding in sync, as they come down from their respective highs.

“M’never, ever, ever gonna get tired of that,” she pants out with a satisfied grin, tilting her head to pepper kisses along the side of his head as his lips continue to press against her neck.

“You and me both, princesa.” Their lips meet in a lazy kiss, both of them smiling into it. His hold on her loosens, now cradling her affectionately, and she melts into his embrace.

“Lay with me, Javi, please?” she whispers, running the tip of her nose along his cheek, giggling softly as his mustache tickles her skin.

He nods, momentarily forgetting where they were and the implications of what would unravel if the man downstairs decided to come up and check on them. “Okay.”

They untangle and she isn’t bothered by the way their mixed release seeps out of her, smearing all over her folds. She’ll shower it off in the morning.

They move beneath the sheets of her bed, settling against her pillows and the many stuffed animals she owns. “Damn, how many of these shits do you have?” Javier asks, holding a tattered bunny in his hand that she takes from him and tenderly caresses.

“Hey, don’t be rude. Mr. Bubbles was my very first best friend and a very important member of the family.”

Javier snorts, and she shoots him a playful glare, carefully placing her beloved plush on her bedside table. He shuffles as she leans against the headboard, his head resting on her stomach while her fingers play in his hair.

The rhythmic pattering of the rain is comforting now, the warm lights in her bedroom embracing this moment with a soft glow.

It’s quiet for a few moments, his lips placing tender kisses all over her soft skin. When he reaches the scar on her hip, he can’t help but bring his curious fingers up to gently trace it, the question hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“How’d you get this?”

Paloma takes a deep breath, her fingers still entertaining themselves in his curls. “I got it when I was thirteen,” she begins softly, “I used to love climbin’ this big tree we had in our backyard. I’d always go as high as I could, ‘n once I reached the top, I swore I could see the whole world from up there. It was beautiful, you know? The view, the feelin’ of being so free and above everythin’.”

She pauses, a small smile tugging at her lips as she remembers the exhilaration of those childhood climbs. “But one day, I saw somethin’ out in the distance—a shadowed figure. It made me feel… uneasy. I’d dreamt of somethin’ like it before, so seein’ it in person… it instilled this fear into me. Felt like a bad omen.”

Paloma shivers slightly at the recollection, and Javier’s hold tightens around her in silent support. “Somehow, I lost my footin’. Slipped off the branch and tumbled down the tree. The fall was chaotic as hell. One of the sharp branches nicked me and cut up my side. It was real deep, felt like I was gonna die.”

It was a miracle she didn’t break a bone or snap her neck. “I smacked the ground hard, it knocked the wind right outta me. I remember jus’ layin’ there, unable to breathe, and seein’ the blood. It was everywhere. The pain was so intense, and it took almost ten minutes of pure agony ‘fore I could use my lungs again. I started screamin’ like a banshee and my parents rushed out, absolutely frantic.”

The tip of his nose grazes the mark, his lips following suit, showering it with tender kisses. Her skin prickles with goosebumps as her fingertips gently scratch at his scalp.

“They rushed me into town to see Dr. Hughes. She stitched me up and told me I was lucky it wasn’t worse. Daddy and a few of his lumberjack buddies cut the tree down the next day. I was so sad.”

“Bet you didn’t climb more trees after that.” He smirks up at her and she snorts softly.

“I did, I was jus’ more careful.”

Javier’s affections trail upward from her stomach to her sternum, then to her neck, and she sighs happily.

The feel of his body between her legs, flaccid cock pressed up against her sore pussy, cradled in her arms, is a high she’s going to spend the rest of her life chasing.

They kiss and kiss until her lips are blue and his lungs beg for oxygen, exchanging tender touches.

His hand finds its familiar place around her neck but doesn’t apply any real pressure, thumb gently brushing against the column of her throat.

She revels in the feel of him.

Her dainty hands roam over his muscular back, broad shoulders, and toned triceps, exploring every inch they can reach. Each touch feels like a declaration of their mutual addiction.

The way they fit together, both physically and emotionally, is intoxicating.

She can feel his love in every movement, every kiss, and every gentle brush of his thumb.

This is their sanctuary, a moment where they can express their deepest emotions without fear.

“I could stay here all night.”

“Why limit yourself to all night? Why not forever?”

He groans out in satisfaction, nipping at her chin, needing his lips on some part of her at all times.

“As much as I’d love to pretend like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I have to go back across the hall.”

“You don’t have to do anythin’. Said it was a bad idea to mess ‘round while my daddy’s downstairs but that didn’t stop you from fuckin’ me.”

She can’t even take the expression he flashes her seriously, not with his hair sticking up in odd places and that fucked out glaze over his brown eyes.

“Just leave early in the morning. Or at least wait until I fall asleep.” And out of spite, she’s tempted to stay up all night just to keep him in her bed.

“Fine. Until you fall asleep.” He kisses her on the lips, moving from between her legs until he’s settled behind her, scooping her into his arms. Her head rests on his chest, one leg hitched over his, and her palm sprawled against his stomach.

He trails his fingers up and down the length of her spine, the other hand stroking the thigh draped over his hip. He nuzzles his nose against the crown of her hair and inhales deeply.

Her scent is not only an aphrodisiac but also incredibly calming.

She feels the accelerated pounding of his heart and before she can ask what’s wrong, his tongue loosens.

“I had this partner in Colombia. Steve Murphy. The most American American you’ll ever meet.” A small smile forms on his face as he reminisces, “Didn’t speak a lick of Spanish but still managed to help me get shit done. We went through the fuckin’ trenches together down there and I put him through the wringer so many goddamn times. I was such an asshole.”

“Was?” She can’t help but quip, kissing up on his chest. Javier slaps at her thigh.

She can tell he holds fondness for this man and she wonders why he’s just now bringing him up. Regardless, she enjoys hearing about his time in the DEA, despite how dark it can get.

He was a completely different man with baggage she can’t even begin to fathom.

“We found a baby girl in her house one day. Her mother and the rest of her family had been shot up by some of Escobar’s men. They were about to kill her when we showed up.”

The conversation takes a turn, and Paloma lifts her head to meet his gaze, but he looks relatively calm as he goes on with the story.

“We chased those bastards all over the neighborhood. Right as I got the upper hand on one, a kid no older than ten cornered me with a fucking pistol.” Her eyes widen, and she brings her fingers up to touch his cheek.

“‘Course I wasn’t going to shoot a fucking kid. They both ran off. Murphy and his wife, Connie, ended up adopting the girl. Olivia, they named her.”

“Olivia’s a beautiful name.”

“She’s precious.”

The context of his past has jaded such a good man, molding him into a cynic over the years. No wonder he struggles to be vulnerable.

His eyes, though calm, reveal a depth of pain and reflection, the memories of those days etched into his soul.

“I think they’d like you.” He turns his head to kiss her palm, nuzzling against it as she cradles his face.

“Well maybe I’ll get to meet ‘em one day. Your pops, too.”

“Oh I know he’d love you. Just knowing how you tend to the house and yard is gonna have him wanting to steal you from me.” Javier playfully nips at her fingertips, those golden flecks she loves to see in his eyes returning.

“If he’s anything like you, then you’re in trouble, cowboy.” 

She’s tickled by the hairs of his mustache and accidentally lets a loud laugh slip, causing him to grip her jaw gently as he shushes her. “Shhh, baby…” His thumb is at her bottom lip, “Gonna get us caught.”

“Tell that to your ‘stache, sir. S’always ticklin’ me.” Paloma bites down on his thumb playfully and he lean in to kiss her for the millionth time.

They indulge in more pillow talk until eventually she’s just humming in response, half asleep, her body going limp against his and her breath leveling out.

Exhaustion tugs at him, the weather lulling him into an almost serene state. Watching her sleep in his arms, her already soft features look even more angelic.

Her long lashes rest delicately against her cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest is hypnotic, reminding him that she’s real and here for him.

Javier doesn’t want to leave even though he knows he must. He doesn’t want to rob himself of this moment—of how, for the first time in a long time, he’s able to cradle something in his hands and not break it.

Her presence is a soothing balm to the wounds of his past, and he wants to savor every second of this newfound peace.

But as he holds her, the rhythmic patter of rain against the window and the rumble of thunder weave a lullaby that’s impossible to resist. His resolve falters and his eyelids grow heavy.

He takes in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body pressed against his, and the feeling of absolute contentment that she brings.

It’s a sensation he convinced himself he wasn’t worthy of experiencing, so having it now fills him with a profound sense of gratitude.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake and to tell himself to get up, he eventually succumbs to the exhaustion, his head resting gently on hers. His arms tighten around her protectively, even in sleep, as if to ensure she remains safe and close.

The storm rages on outside, never letting up despite the tranquil note in which their night ends.

[loginlust]

Blog 007: An Unexpected Encounter

Blog 007: An Unexpected Encounter

Hey everyone,

I just arrived at work and I had to share this unexpected encounter that has left me both grateful and deeply intrigued.

Picture this: I’m on my way to work, today is a big day. It's the deadline for a project I've been pouring my heart and soul into. I’m driving, thinking about the final touches I need to make, when suddenly, I hear that dreaded sound...thump, thump, thump. Yep, a flat tire. Just my luck, right?

I pulled over, heart sinking, and called roadside assistance. But it seemed like they were taking forever. Panic started to set in and being late was not an option. In desperation, I called Tawana, hoping she could help. However, She was already at work but mentioned her boss was on his way to their office and might be able to assist. She sent him my location, and before I knew it, he arrived.

His name is Mr. Kumar. I’m pretty sure it was Kumar. Or was it Khan? Anyway, he was stoic, almost detached, as he changed my tire. I was thanking him profusely, but he barely acknowledged my excitement. He seemed completely unfazed by my animated appreciation, focusing solely on the task at hand.

In no time at all, he had the tire changed. I offered to repay him somehow! After all, he had saved my day. But he simply said it wasn’t necessary and told me to drive safely. And just like that, he was gone.

This brief encounter left me with so many questions. Who is this man? Why was he so detached? There was something about his calm, almost indifferent demeanor that intrigued me. He didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for a stranger, yet he did. And those eyes...when he looked at me, it was so intense that I had to look away. There’s definitely more to him than meets the eye.

As I drove to work, making it just in time, I couldn’t stop thinking about Mr. Kumar. There was an air of mystery around him that pulled me in. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but I feel like there’s something darker, something deeper, beneath that stoic exterior.

Life has a funny way of throwing unexpected people our way, doesn’t it? Stay curious, everyone.

I will update soon,

Shannon

[idrellegames]

Wayfarer Dev Log 2023.03.06

Hi friends!

It’s been a while since my last proper update in January. I am recovered from illness and mostly back to normal; with the days getting longer and actually having sunlight now, it’s easier to stay focused than it was in the winter. A lot of developments have happened in the interim, so I’m hoping this dev log will serve to get you caught up on things I’ve been keeping under wraps until now.

✦ New Blog Reveal

My blog’s desktop theme has been redesigned and updated! Huge thank you to @ethereal-themes for taking this on, I am in love with the new look.

Desktop theme

About

Navigation (with updated tags!)

FAQ

Character Roster (updated with Episode 2 characters + sortable, including by romance type)

These pages cannot be viewed in the tumblr mobile app, but they can be viewed by inputting the link into your mobile browser. Mobile versions of the updated FAQ information and tag list are forthcoming.

Many thanks to @memaidraws for my new blog portrait of Alexia. 💕

Additionally, I am no longer tracking the tag "wayfarer" for community content. The tag has become overrun with bots that makes it very difficult to filter. If you've created something you'd like me to see, please use the "wayfarer if" tag or tag my blog!

✦ The Public Build

A new patch should be coming sometime in March to fix lingering bugs and issues in Episode 2. This patch will require a full restart of the game. Once it releases, you should not use old saves otherwise you may encounter continuity errors and bugs in later episodes.

✦ The Alpha Build

Work on the next alpha update is progressing. I am still writing slower than I usually do, but I am coming up on the end of a major branch. There should be a new alpha release later in March that will cover one half of Episode 3 Part 1.

Even though not all possible routes will be included, the update will add over 300,000 words of new playable content to the game.

✦ Development Changes

Until recently, Wayfarer was planned to be a free game. This is no longer the case. Though I am not ready to announce the full details yet, the game will be eventually be moving to a free demo + paid full game model later in its development cycle.

Act 1 (which includes the Prologue and Episodes 1-3) will remain free to play. Future pricing for non-Patreon early access to later episodes while the game is in development is TBD.

Because this change impacts some behind-the-scenes things, I am need to gauge how much of Wayfarer’s playerbase plays the game on their phone versus a computer.

If you would like to help me out, check out this poll here and let me know what device you regularly play on!

✦ Wayfarer 2023 Pin-Up Calendar

The Wayfarer Calendar is now closed! A huge thank you to our contributing artists and everyone who donated. Altogether, we raised $1094.54 USD. These proceeds were donated today to the Astraea Lesbian Foundation for Justice.

I am so honoured that the calendar was a huge hit. On behalf of our organizers, I would like to thank everyone for their passion and excitement for this project. It’s too soon to announce whether we will do something like this again for next year, but there may be another calendar on the horizon…

If you’ve enjoyed Wayfarer, used my tutorials, or would like to support my work, please consider supporting me on Patreon. Patrons receive access to the alpha build, a private Discord server, exclusive previews, bonus content, side stories, and other benefits.

(Please note that if you are pledging solely for access to the alpha build, the alpha and the public build currently contain the same content.)

Wayfarer is a passion project and creating it is a full-time commitment. Any little bit goes a long way to help me bring it to fruition.

If you aren’t in a position to support financially, reblogs, shares, ratings and comments, and spreading the word about the game are much appreciated and do a lot to help me out! 💕

[archiveikemen]

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 25 (Blind Love)

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Several seasons had passed with the scenery around me changing colours. Nothing changed about me, I was still spending time in the world of darkness as a fairytale writer.

Of course, Liam had always been by my side, smelling like vanilla.

There were days when I missed where I originally was before meeting Crown, but I never once regretted my decision to stay.

Even after you've made your choice, there will never be a definitive answer to what’s right or wrong.

There would surely be people who would point their fingers at me, criticising me for making the “wrong” choice.

But it doesn't matter to me.

This is what I want for myself.

…

In the basement surrounded by the smell of herbs, Roger read through my report.

Roger: This information is quite valuable. Well done, young lady.

Kate: I’m humbled.

Recently, I’ve been writing about not only Liam’s, but everyone’s curses.

It was said that people born with curses were destined to face a tragic death.

I knew that there was no way to change fate, but that doesn't mean we should just sit back and accept it without resistance.

(If there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it. Even if it’s something small.)

Roger: Come to think of it, Liam has been having less frequent episodes lately, hasn't he?

Kate: Yes, they’ve become significantly less frequent. Liam is still periodically satisfying his curiosity, but now he’s more careful when doing so.

Roger smiled in satisfaction, his facial expression seeming rather sadistic.

Roger: It’s not very good for a former doctor to make guesses based solely on speculation, but…

Roger: … Liam’s episodes may be caused by his strong survival instincts.

Kate: Survival instincts?

Roger: He engages in potentially life-threatening activities to feel alive.

Roger: It sounds rather contradictory, but it’s important for humans to feel alive.

Roger: Therefore, you should stay by his side, young lady.

Roger: Because right now, to Liam, you are the one who's making him feel alive.

Kate: … I’ll always be with him.

Roger: Well, if ever he gets tired of you, I’ll take care of you. You’re my favourite, you know?

Roger ruffled my hair with his large hand like he were petting a dog.

Kate: Wah…!

Roger: Haha, your hair’s all messed up now.

…

Standing behind the door to the basement, Liam could hear the conversation between Kate and Roger.

Liam: “You’re my favourite, you know?”

Liam frowned when he heard those words, feeling uneasy.

Liam: What if Roger takes Kate away from me? What should I do…

Liam: N-No, no. It’s a horrible thing to doubt Kate. … I’ll trust her and wait. … I’ll do my best.

Liam felt the strong urge to run downstairs and swear his unwavering allegiance to Kate, but he resisted it and sat down on a step of the stairs.

He looked like a pet cat waiting for his owner.

Liam: … Ahh, it’s raining.

The rain was a sign of an episode's onset. It always felt ice cold, but today it felt as gentle as the rain in springtime.

He heard the voice of his “other self” in his heart.

Hey, Liam. I haven't had many chances to appear lately, huh?

(... Yeah. It’s because I’ve been focusing on moving forward to tomorrow with Kate.)

Hm? Ahaha, you’re so selfish.

(Yeah. I’m sorry for always running away. But from now on, I won’t run away anymore. I want to live.)

Living is something that’s difficult for you. You know, there’s no telling what could happen to you tomorrow, right?

(... I know.)

(But even so… I still want to try my best. I’m good at that.)

… I’ll be watching you.

I’ll pay you a visit when you’re at the brink of death again. See you.

When Liam opened his eyes, the rain in his heart stopped…

Instead, he heard the sound of Kate’s footsteps as she came up from the basement.

…

The clicking sounds of the typewriter keys echoed through my quiet room.

The things I had witnessed and the stories I had written with these fingers were sometimes inhumane and unforgivable.

My fear and sorrow never faded away, sometimes I even felt scared of what tomorrow would bring me.

(But I want to keep moving towards it no matter what.)

(And I’ll reach my hand out to the man I love, because that’s what “I love you” means to me.)

Liam: … Kate?

Kate: Liam, you’re back. Good job on your rehearsals.

Liam: Thanks. Oh, I saw that the door was left ajar, so I came in without knocking—

Kate: I thought it was about time you came back, so I left it open on purpose.

Kate: So I can see your face as soon as you’re back, you know?

Liam: That’s an adorable reason. … I wanted to see you as soon as possible too.

I couldn't help but be captivated by Liam’s smile, gestures, and even every one of his beautiful eyelashes.

(... It’s like he’s always getting more and more attractive.)

Liam’s radiance knew no bounds, it was always captivating the hearts of everyone who looked at him.

It feels a little embarrassing when someone this attractive looks at me so passionately.

Liam: Kate, can you close your eyes?

Kate: Fufu, okay.

Even though my eyes were closed, I already knew what Liam was up to.

Liam: OK. You can open your eyes now.

A strong fragrance tickled my nose, and a pink modern rose was placed in my hand.

Kate: Wow, it’s beautiful… . Thank you, Liam.

Liam: Mm, you’re welcome.

Liam often bought me modern roses on ordinary days like this.

(Now that I think of it, I’ve never asked him about the reason.)

Kate: Why do you always buy me modern roses? This flower isn’t easy to obtain.

I recalled Victor once telling me that this type of rose was a rare breed made through hybridization.

Liam: Hmm— I wonder why?

(Ah, I know that look. He has this facial expression whenever he’s trying to hide something.)

I gently placed the rose on my desk and reached my hand to his side…

Kate: Take this!

I tickled him relentlessly.

Liam: Hey, s-stop…

When I chased Liam around the room as he tried to escape, we tumbled onto the bed and messed up the sheets.

Liam: Aha, AHAHA! Okay, I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you honestly…!

Liam: Hah… Kate… you really show no mercy.

Kate: Fufu, sorry. But I really do want to know the reason.

Liam laughed while laying on the bed.

Liam: Back when I was trying to buy you flowers for the first time, the florist told me about flower language.

Liam: She said that modern roses symbolise “gratitude”.

Kate: … Gratitude.

Liam: Mm, that's right. I’m grateful to have met you, for being able to spend time with you by your side, and to you for forgiving me for always sticking to you.

Liam: … Haha, it’ll be daylight by the time I’m done if I keep going, so let’s leave it as that…

Liam: Kate, I’m always grateful for everything about you.

Liam: Thank you for existing, Kate.

Those words, spoken so casually and without hesitation, carried the weight of the loneliness he had been putting up with all this time.

(Ever since Liam was born, no one has thanked him for existing.)

(Moreover, his life was always being trampled on by others and that hurt him.)

(And yet…)

– Flashback Start –

Liam: Your heart belongs to you, and only you. I hope that you’ll let me help you stay just the way you are.

(He was the protector of my heart.)

…

Liam: Everyone wants a shining star, and if it pleases them and means something to them…

Liam: I want to be that star. I don’t care if I’m just a fake.

(He struggled while trying to please everyone.)

…

Liam: Therefore, you’ll be alright, Kate. I hope you’ll always be someone who believes in tomorrow.

– Flashback End –

While continuing to live between life and death, Liam had a beautiful heart that cherished others.

Why does it have to be so difficult for him to live with a kind heart?

But still, even though there was nothing I could do to change that, I wanted to continue staying by Liam’s side and expressing my love for him.

Kate: … I should be the one thanking you.

His slightly tousled hair smelled like sweet vanilla today too.

Kate: Hey, Liam.

Kate: Thank you for being born. I’m very glad that I met you.

Liam: …

Liam: Ah…

Liam: … My heart beating so fast right now, I can feel it hammering against my chest.

Liam: Right now… I… I feel so alive.

Liam pulled me into his arms, as if he wanted me to listen to his heart beating.

His heart had a regular rhythm like it was taking care of a tiny animal.

Liam: Let me kiss you after you display that flower. Once I start touching you, I won’t be able to stop.

Liam: And… I want more than just a kiss. I want lots of kisses.

…

As our flushed skin and bodies came together, we laid down together on the sheets.

(Ah…)

Kate: Look outside, Liam! Isn’t that Betelgeuse?

Liam: Yeah, you’re right. Amazing, it's like it’s shouting at you to look at it.

The Betelgeuse shining brightly in the night sky reminded me of Liam.

They were both dazzling, beautiful, and made people want to reach their hands out towards them.

Liam: Did you know, Kate?

Liam: Betelgeuse is red because it’ll eventually explode and die.

Kate: Explode…?

Liam: Yup. It turns red as it burns brighter and brighter… and I heard from somewhere that its lifespan also gets shorter.

(... The end of the shiny red star in the sky.)

Liam: As the saying goes, curiosity kills the cat… I wonder what will be the cause of my death.

Liam was clearly referring to his inevitable tragic demise due to his curse.

But that was definitely not all he was referring to.

Having experienced a close call with death once, Liam understood how painfully fragile human life could be.

The longer someone lived, the more prevalent death felt to them.

(That would certainly be the same for me. Everyone’s life would come to an end someday.)

Liam: … You know, Kate. If I can choose how I die—

Liam lifted my body up in his arms—.

He then guided my hands to wrap them around his neck.

Through the contact with his skin, I could feel the steady beating of his heart that was a sign of life.

Liam: Please, if I can choose how I die… I want my life to end in your hands.

Kate: In my hands?

Liam: … Yes. I want to be put to sleep forever by your hands.

Liam: Only then, for the first time, I’ll feel glad to have been born.

I could tell from the look in his rose-coloured eyes that he was neither joking nor speaking figuratively, it was his genuine wish.

It sounded depressing for him to ask to be killed. But, to me, that was him wishing for himself to keep on living.

What Liam was trying to tell me was that he wanted me to stay with him and watch over him until the day fate puts an end to him.

(And so, I…)

I gently tightened my grip on his neck, just enough for him to still breathe.

Kate: … Okay. I’ll be the one to end your life with my own hands.

Kate: Therefore, please remain by my side until the very end.

Kate: Keep on reaching out to me, who will be waiting for you in your tomorrows.

Liam: … Of course. You are the only one I’ll look at.

Just like any other day in your life, the world is unkind to you today.

(But…)

In this neverending nightmare, I will continue to beg for your life.

[littlemoonastrology]

All about: ARIES ♈︎ - The Zodiac Signs

Hello and Welcome to my first Blog Post! I'm learning about how Tumblr works so forgive me if the layout is a little strange! The first 12 posts on this account is going to be my Zodiac Signs series, where I describe my observations and provide relevant information for those of you who want to get into Astrology.

Take a look at my newest posts for information on: Taurus and Gemini! Cancer will be posted later today. :)

I hope this content will be helpful for beginners, or maybe people who are experienced in Astrology to provide a new perspective! If you feel like this post has helped, feel free to like, follow, reblog or repost (as long as I'm credited). I'm open to answer questions too if you'd like to know more about my opinions!

~ Aries ♈︎

Date (Only applies to Sun Signs): March 21 - April 19

Symbol: ♈︎ - The Ram

Associated House: First

Associated Degrees: 1°, 13°, 25°

Associated Energy: Masculine

Planetary Ruler(s): ♂ Mars (Modern and Traditional)

Element: Fire

Modality: Cardinal

Keywords: Headstrong, Entrepreneurial, Ambitious, Motivated, Spontaneous, Impulsive

Natives of this Zodiac Sign are naturally quite entrepreneurial, competitive, determined, ambitious and passionate... Once they want something they want it and will stop at nothing until they achieve their goal (this is heightened if Mars is in Aries!). Aries is the fighter that never stops fighting, seeking out excitement and holds certain ideals tight to their chest. They can be reliable friends, protective ones too! In terms of how an Aries placement carries itself, it can be quite intense to certain people and they have the vibe of someone incredibly strong. They may also have an affinity for sports, science, or product design - as long as they can keep their body and mind engaged.

Surprisingly to some, Aries aren't solely focused on themselves and may have a very strong humanitarian streak. Not only that, but they may have unique/controversial viewpoints on certain topics (such as science, fashion, etc - they are the groundbreakers!) or have a creative/philosophical streak.

When Aries feels lucky or like things are going well, gaining rewards for their hard work they will want to engage in those as much as possible which can sometimes result in overindulgence (For example, working hard at a job and they received a bonus - they might spend it very quickly whilst they are caught up in the excitement) or display a cocky attitude which may get on people's nerves.

If an Aries placement becomes insecure - maybe they lost something important to them, it may result in passivity, loss of passion, loss of determination and may become extremely lazy or stuck in a basic routine(like their fire has burnt out). It can take a long time for an Aries to get back on track, but once they do there is no stopping them, especially if they have learnt to keep a "steady burn".

~

Notes/Keywords/Phrases

Zodiac Sign

Each of the Zodiac Signs are a constellation. The Zodiac Sign shows how a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House is being represented and expressed. Once a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House falls into a Zodiac Sign, it adopts the energy of it.

For example: if Mercury falls into the constellation Sagittarius, Mercury adopts Sagittarian traits. If the 6th House falls into the constellation Aquarius, the 6th House adopts Aquarian traits.

Associated House

The Houses in Astrology are dependent on the time and location of birth in a Natal Chart and there are 12 different ones. Each of these 12 Houses are then assigned to a Zodiac Sign and 1 or 2 Planetary Rulers. The Houses in Astrology show you what area of life the energy of the Zodiac and Planets/Asteroids/Fixed Points is appointed to and helps provide depth into the chart.

For example: Capricorn's Associated House is the 10th House.

Associated Degrees

When a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House falls into a Zodiac Sign constellation, it will be appointed a Degree. This Degree shows how far along the Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House is in a Zodiac Sign. Each Degree is also associated with a Zodiac Sign, meaning when this Degree comes up it can nuance the way the Zodiac Sign of a Planet/Asteroid/Fixed Point/House is being represented.

For example: Mars is 6° in the Zodiac Cancer, 6° represents Virgo - therefore the Cancer Mars also takes on Virgo traits. The 2nd House is 23° in the Zodiac Scorpio, 23° represents Aquarius - therefore the 2nd House in Scorpio takes on Aquarian traits.

Planetary Ruler(s)

This phrase refers to the Planet(s) that rule a Zodiac Sign. When a Planet falls into the Zodiac Sign it has rulership over, the energy of both the Planet and the Zodiac Sign is amplified.

For example: Pisces' Planetary Ruler is Neptune.

Modern / Traditional

These words are associated with two kinds of Astrology: Modern Astrology and Traditional Astrology. Traditional Astrology refers to Astrology that was practiced before the 19th century, whilst Modern Astrology refers to Astrology that is practiced now. Some people choose to practice Traditional Astrology, some people choose to practice Modern Astrology, whilst some others might practice both types or combine them together.

Element

Each Zodiac Sign/ Planet/House/Degree is associated with an Element and this covers certain traits which are unique to the Zodiac Sign/Planet/House/Degree they correspond to.

These Elements are: Fire, Air, Water and Earth.

Modality

Much like an Element, each Zodiac Sign/Planet/House/Degree is associated with a Modality. The Modality describes what the focus of a placement is and how the energy is expressed.

There are 3 different Modalities: Cardinal, Mutable and Fixed.

[multifandom-worlds]

My First Noel

Genre: Angsty fluff

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Angst (duh, it's me LOL), feelings of loneliness and inadequacy,

Authors Note:I'm sorry it's so angsty! I really tried! It is written from Loki's POV

Tagging: @simplyholl @holdmytesseract @lokiprompts @dryyoursaltyoceantears @buttercupcookies-blog @ladyofthestayingpower

Sitting amongst the group can still lead to a world of loneliness. I was “included” in the group, sure, but I still didn’t belong. That much was obvious. Everyone got these thoughtful, well-intentioned gifts, while I got simple, meaningless, trivial nonsense. Even my brother, the one I foolishly believed would break the mould and get something meaningful, let me down. I found my attention returning constantly to her. 

She sat in a chair closest to the fire, a blanket wrapped around herself, gifts and declarations of love surrounding her, yet none mattered; her attention was focused solely on the notebook in her hands. She would look up occasionally but nothing more than a quick glance. When she concentrates, her tongue sticks out the corner of her mouth, what I wouldn’t give to feel that tongue against mine.

Hours pass of the same things, being neglected by the group, on this, the day of supposed merriment where friends and enemies are one. I silently rise from my chair and retire to my room. Why grace them with my presence when it’s not wanted or required? Deep in my soul, I had hoped that today would be different, but it appears I was wrong again. 

I settled into my chair by the window with a book, trying to distract my brain from the overwhelming feelings of loneliness, when the faintest knock came at my door. A war raged between my head and my heart. Perhaps it was her coming to check on me? But then again, maybe it was Stark, drunkenly asking why I was no longer with them. Ultimately, my heart won out, hope sparking in my soul.

I rise from my chair before taking measured steps over to the door and pulling it open, only to see an envelope on the floor, my name scribed on the front. I know that handwriting; she was here. I quickly looked down the hallway, but I had taken too long to open the door; she was gone. 

I pick up the envelope and turn to the solace of my room, sitting down to rip it open, careful not to destroy the contents therein. There were two pieces of paper, one evidently from her sketchbook; the other was a mystery. I decided to open that one first, revealing a handwritten note.

Loki,

It hurts me to see you neglected when you deserve so much. Seeing how the others look right past you when it’s clear you need today more than anything. I’m sorry it appeared I was ignoring you, too; I promise I was not. I was actually working on your gift - you are the only one to receive a gift from me this year. It is enclosed in this envelope if you are interested. If not, do with this letter and gift as you see fit. Worldly possessions mean nothing to you; that is why I had hoped this gift would bring you joy somehow. I had hoped this view into my mind would be enough to make you feel wanted.

Over this year, I realized I have fallen so in love with you. You carry yourself the dignity and poise of a King but possess a scholar's knowledge. You have the humour of a court jester and the heart of a maiden. It is that heart of yours I have been drawn to. It’s that heart that makes me weak. If my feelings for you are mutual, meet me in the lounge at midnight once everyone is asleep. 

She had not signed the letter, but I have seen her writing many times to know who it belongs to. I draw out the second paper, opening the carefully folded parchment to reveal a detailed sketch of me; sitting in the chair, I spent a fair portion of the evening downstairs. The way she got the drape of my clothing, the sparkle of the lights in my eyes. 

A soft smile draws on my lips, holding the portrait to my chest, my heart thudding at the realization that someone cared. Someone looked at me like I mattered, like someone wanted me. The 12 chimes of midnight drew my attention. It was now or never. I swung my door open before walking towards the elevator. How long would she wait for me? Would she still be there when I got there? 

A million and one things rushed through my head when I stepped foot into the elevator, her note and her drawing clutched tightly to my chest. This was my one chance, my one opportunity to have something good, to feel wanted - I can’t mess this up. If only this damned elevator would hurry up!

12:02. 2 minutes since the designated meeting time. I round the corner into the lounge, hoping to a god more powerful than I that she would still be there. There she stood; the only light illuminating her was the tree's lights. She turned around with a brilliant smile on her perfect lips as I entered the room.

“You came…” She said softly, looking me up and down. I could feel her eyes on me; the very feeling alone set my soul ablaze.

“You asked me too,” I answer, walking towards her. It took all my willpower not to kiss her right then and there. “Thank you for this..” I add, dropping my hand from my chest and showing her the note and drawing. “This is more than I could ever ask for. For someone to see me as something more than a monster. I will cherish this drawing.”

“Did you just come here to thank me for your gift? If that’s the case, you’re welcome. I’m going to be going now.” She said, her voice broken. 

She pushed past me towards the door before I stopped her, grabbing her hand as she passed. “Dove, please don’t leave… I’m not ready to watch someone I love walk away from me. I will cherish this drawing, not because it was a gift but because you drew it. Every time I look at this, I think of the note you wrote me, how you love me. I will never find someone better for me than you, Dove. I would love to show you all of me if you would have me.”

She looks at me questioningly, “What are you saying, Loki..?”.

“My Dove, my freedom, my hope. Will you be my partner on this day, my first Earth Christmas?”

[tiktowafel]

Hey, I love your art style and your work on class 1B. I was just wondering if you have any recommendations for fics that are 1B centric, maybe even stories with someone like Setsuna as a main character. I love the MHA fandom, but it's sometimes hard to find those good stories with all the fan generated content, an I was hoping another 1B lover would know what's what.

thank you, and sure! i don't actually read that much fanfiction (my taste is rather narrow), but here are a few ones that i read and enjoyed! i'll put it all under the cut because my summaries ended up making this list kinda long lol

'Class 1-B' is Trending #1 in Japan - 9k words and absolutely hilarious crack oneshot with a lot of chatfic/social media elements. Tsuburaba accidentally turns one of Monoma's rants into an international meme, which results in 1-B becoming incredibly popular and the League of Villains being defeated in the dumbest way imaginable. the fic is restricted to AO3 users, since i don't have an account there i can't check if the link works but i really hope it does :'D

Adrift - long (13k words) and extremely angsty space horror oneshot with Setsuna as the main character. AU where class 1-B are a space crew and a mission goes terribly wrong, leaving Setsuna, the sole survivor, floating hopelessly in space and thinking about everything that happened. 10/10 made me feel extremely uncomfortable for the rest of the day

Mindfucker Has Closed the Chat - 9 chapter 17k words long very chaotic Monoshin chatfic (with one non-chatfic style chapter) where Monoma texts the wrong person and ends up befriending Shinso without knowing who he's talking to. the fic is tagged "attempt at humor" and i gotta say that the attempt was 100% successful, this thing is hysterical and i audibly laughed several times while reading it

Picture Perfect - i know i hardly ever talk about Kosen on this blog despite the fact that it's one of my favorite ships, but one day i'll post something about them i promise- anyway this tiny 2k word fic is pretty much what made me ship them. it's just... very good and very sweet yknow

Unlikely and Unusual - a oneshot collection made for one of those rarepair month events. it's not specifically a 1-B fic, but some of the oneshots feature 1-B characters and the ones i read are very cute :)

the one and only The Heart of a Hero - 345k words and recently updated after a long hiatus, basically a 1-B fandom legend. It has everything: drama, epic fights, romance, slice of life, character backstories, it's pretty much what BNHA would have been if it was about 1-B. A lot of things in it are inaccurate to canon because it was first written before the joint training arc even came out, but that just makes things more interesting in my opinion (dude i actually wish Reiko's quirk was like this in canon)! it's actually one of the main reasons why i got so invested in 1-B in the first place, i couldn't recommend it more!!

The author of THoaH has also written many other, shorter stories about 1-B, so their entire profile is worth checking out! my personal favorite out of these fics is I Want to Break Free, a 6k word oneshot focusing on Setsuna and her family.

and now for what is probably my personal favorite:

When Die Rolls Differ - 294k words and counting, canon divergence/butterfly effect fic where class 1-B is the class who gets attacked at the USJ instead of 1-A and becomes more involved in the main conflict of the series as a result. honestly i don't even have the words to describe it, it's so good, the character interactions and backstories, and the fights, and the humor, and the way 1-B students fit into the events that originally only featured 1-A characters, and the everything!! just!! dude!! it's amazing!! and there's so much love and thought and creativity put into it!! please check it out because this fic has my whole heart <3 it's also on a break right now, so you have time to catch up

aaand that's it for today! there are probably more fics that i like, i just can't remember them rn, so i'm planning on updating this post every time i remember a nice fic or find something new!

sorry this took so long i may have procrastination issues

[thewritersplace]

Writeblr Intro

─────🌹─────

Hello, all!

My name is Kendra, and this is my writeblr introduction. It's a bit simple stylistically, but that's how I am. Now, onto the intro!

I'm currently twenty-seven, use she/her pronouns, and am an asexual, demiromantic, biromantic cisgender woman (may as well cover all the bases, right?). I was born and raised in Northern California, spent my undergraduate years in Oregon, and then returned to NorCal, where I still reside.

I have an MA in History, a BA in Religious Studies, and a double minor in History and Psychology.

I've been on this website for over a decade (via my main blog), and have been writing in general for almost fifteen years. I started out with original works, then discovered fanfiction, and worked solely on that for over a decade, before slowly venturing back into original works again. Nowadays, I write both concurrently, though I admittedly do still find fanfiction easier, and my original works often take a backseat to my fics. Yet, somehow, I've ended up with a (current) total of six WIPs — all of which I will introduce you to today.

It's been a long time since I've shared my original works with such a large audience, so I have some natural apprehension, but ultimately I'm looking forward to doing it again.

Now, without further ado, I present my WIPs!

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The Road To Eternity Is Paved With Blood (drafting)

Dracula's Daughter (outlining) (prequel/sequel to Road To Eternity)

The Wrath Of The Vampire Queen (outlining + drafting)

For The Love Of A Goddess (outlining)

The Other Side Of Paradise (outlining)

Red Thread Of Fate: Love In The Modern World (outlining + drafting)

─────🌹─────

The Road To Eternity Is Paved With Blood is a Dracula retelling of sorts that was inspired largely by Hellsing, with other snippets of inspiration taken from Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) and Dracula Untold (2014). The story begins in the 1880s, and extends at the very least to the early 1900s. It follows the life and times of Rose Rowan, a beautiful noblewoman, and her relationship with her husband, Vlad Draculea (former Voivode of Wallachia, and member of the House of Drăculești), as they navigate eternity and a life of vampirism together. Her twin brother, Judas, is also featured prominently — as are his experiences with vampirism, which contrasts some with his sister's. Of course, as with every good Gothic novel, there is darkness to be found within this tale. Abraham Van Helsing and his ilk have made it their mission to bring about the end of Vlad Draculea, and anyone connected to him. The challenge in this quest, however, lies in said connections that Vlad has — namely Rose, who will stop at nothing to protect him from the infamous vampire hunter. She will have her fairytale ending, even if it has to be achieved through darker means. For while the road to hell may be paved with good intentions, the road to eternity is paved with blood.

🌹🌹🌹

Dracula's Daughter is a sequel/prequel to the above story, and focuses on Beáta, the daughter of Vlad from one of his late wives. She is also a vampire, and has been living for centuries, though largely on her own. She has lived many lives, and is a worldly young woman, though at the beginning of our story she has come home to Wallachia to see her father again after his most recent remarriage, and to meet his new wife. While she ultimately becomes fond of her new step-mother, she also has to contend with the sinister plotting of some of her father's immortal brides — namely The Queen — who would like nothing more than to rid Vlad of his new wife. Thinking herself as perhaps the only one who can bring peace and stability to the family, Beáta wrestles with who she should side with, or if she should side with anyone at all. There is more to her new step-mother than meets the eye, however, and Beáta soon finds that perhaps she is not as alone in this fight as she thought. In fact, for the first time in centuries, she has someone on her side who will fight with sharp claws and bloodied teeth to make sure such a conflict will never come to pass again.

🌹🌹🌹

The Wrath Of The Vampire Queen is a story somewhat inspired by Dracula Untold (2014), as well as the life and times of Vlad the Impaler. The tale begins in the mid-1400s, where Vlad Draculea and his wife, Senka Slavkov (born Deirdre Delacroix) are navigating the wars and politics of his reign. It then extends well into several of the following centuries, where Senka is still searching for her husband centuries after his disappearance (which occurs some years after his historically recorded death). Her brother, Didier Delacroix (who adopted the name 'Renatus' upon arriving in Wallachia), a dhampir, accompanies her in her search, as they are the only family each has left, and his connections with the Church and various religious organizations consistently prove vital to their search. Senka believes she knows exactly who took her husband — Hungarian and Turkish enemies from his mortal life, now vampires themselves. Didier, however, is not so certain, as some things don't add up. Still, they both believe that Vlad is out there somewhere, and will continue their search until they find him — be it alive or truly dead. If it is the latter, then there will be no saving his former captors from the wrath of Senka Slavkov, the vicious and vindictive Vampire Queen.

🌹🌹🌹

For The Love Of A Goddess is a story set in the present day, and follows two young women — Megara and Zarina — as they navigate their lives as best they can. These two women are the best of friends, and share in many things — including being chosen by two goddesses to be their mortal partners in this iteration of their immortal lives. Megara, a historian and religious studies scholar, caught the eye of Athena, who admired her intellect just as much as her beauty. Zarina, a librarian with a previous background in psychology, attracts the attention of Aphrodite, who finds her beauty to be dazzling, and the depth of her kindness and compassion to be a rare thing in such an egocentric world. While very happy with their respective partners, Megara and Zarina find that being with immortals comes with a variety of challenges — and not just the more obvious ones. Athena and Aphrodite are just two of an endless list of deities who are trying to survive in a growing atheist world, and if they lose this fight, they may very well disappear for good. Not wanting such a thing to occur, all four women come together to try and create a plan to prevent this disappearance from happening — though they face difficulties in the form of other various deities not wanting to band together to save each other from extinction. After all, immortals are just as egocentric as the mortals they so often think of themselves as better than, and much more difficult to persuade. Thus, the four women must not only enact a plan to prevent the extinction of various deities, but also contend with the fact that they may be the only ones in this fight. With time very much not on their side, this group of mortals and immortals must figure out a way to ensure that they do not lose this existential battle, and keep the existence of so many deities alive.

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The Other Side Of Paradise is a retelling of Genesis in some ways, with the focus being on Lilith and Eve, rather than Adam and Eve. It begins in the Garden of Eden, with Eve pondering the idea of a world outside of the garden, and curiosity about her husband's alleged first wife, who had fled Eden long before Eve's creation. Eventually, Eve dared to venture to the edge of the garden, and it was there she saw Lilith. The two spoke over the wall, and met every day thereafter, eventually becoming friends. Lilith tried to get Eve to leave both Eden and Adam, but Eve was just the slightest bit apprehensive. Eventually, after tasting the forbidden fruit from the tree, Eve was expelled from the garden, and Lilith was there to greet her upon her exit. Eve, who was excited by the prospect of seeing the world, happily took Lilith's offered arm, and went off with her. The two spent many eons together, though not always in the same physical forms, as souls eventually begin to outlast bodies. In the present day, their souls have come to reside in the bodies of two young women who have never met, but are destined to find each other — as that is what souls do.

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Red Thread Of Fate: Love In The Modern World is a story about two young women, Shu Nazhi and Zhou Xue Li, who live in similar yet vastly different worlds. Shu Nazhi is a businesswoman who runs her family's company with the help of her older brother, Hou Zhu Zhi, and younger sister, Shu Nuan. Zhou Xue Li is a model, actress, and singer, who is down on her luck when it comes to love. The two are introduced by a mutual friend (Nazhi's foster sister of sorts, and Xue Li's close friend) under the guise of Nazhi being Xue Li's new bodyguard, and become close over the course of Nazhi's assignment. After Nazhi finds herself falling for Xue Li, she turns in her letter of resignation, and then promptly asks Xue Li out upon the latter's acceptance of said letter. Xue Li, already secretly head-over-heels in love, happily accepts, and the two spend the day doing various activities throughout the city. The relationship, blissful as it is, also comes with the complications of things like paparazzi, work commitments, as well as their differing personalities and lifestyles. As the two women navigate these challenges, they begin to wonder about what it would have been like to love each other in a different time, and if they ever did — for they know that the red thread of fate works in mysterious ways, and that some souls are always destined to find each other.

(Disclaimer: Zhou Xue Li was created by/belongs to @bwaldorf, who was kind enough to allow me to use her in my story)

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Tagging @bwaldorf, @veneritia, @helioselene,

@moariin, @socialmediasocrates, @lasbrumas

(Please ask to be added or removed from the taglist)

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[vegitoswife-archive]

A/N: I've been neglecting Gogeta so here's a lil something dedicated solely to him. I had a slightly different and lengthier version of this initially planned, but figured it'd be better to focus on something more condensed.

SUMMARY: You and Gogeta don't know each other too well, but you invite him over for dinner anyway. [ AU!Gogeta x GN!Adult!Reader ] TAGLIST: @carnal-lnstinct / @yeowangies / @enayru / @miss-taura (Like this post to be added to my tag list!)

CONTENT: Fluff, Slice of Life, "You" eating meat (just as a heads up to any vegeta/rians or veg/ans who peek at this). SFW.

(PROSHIP/COMSHIP DNI. BLANK/UNCUSTOMIZED BLOGS DNI.)

You were surprised by your own boldness. You weren’t quite sure what came over you, but when the idea to invite Gogeta over for dinner at your place sprung into your mind, nothing stopped your mouth from moving and words of said request from spilling out. You were familiar with him enough, and most importantly, comfortable enough to allow him into your living space. You remembered the surprised look that crossed his normally emotionless features, and especially the splash of red that filled his skin. He didn’t respond right away, and you started to worry that you overstepped a line, but he did eventually speak – saying yes.

Here the two of you were now, seated at your lightly decorated dinner table with the light from the setting sun illuminating the room. You had prepared a mere steak dinner, but you were far more focused on seeing how Gogeta reacted to your cooking than you were in eating it yourself at the moment.

“Do you like it?” Your voice broke the stretch of silence between you, though it wasn’t terribly awkward. Gogeta looked up from his plate, singular bang shifting across his forehead, chewing. He nodded, and the pressure weighing your chest down faded.

“Great. I’m glad.” You felt content enough to start eating yourself, but you couldn’t help but still stare somewhat at your guest. How couldn’t you? You weren’t ignorant to how handsome Gogeta was. Today, possibly because you stated this would just be a casual occasion, he was clothed in a turtleneck sweater and navy blue jeans with his black tail coiled around his waist like a makeshift belt. His pair of sneakers, though simple, complemented the entire outfit well. It wasn’t anything to gape at on paper, but on him? He looked dashing, especially with his muscles filling out his sweater so well.

This wasn’t the first time he did. Maybe he always looked good no matter what he was wearing.

“Is there a reason why you arranged this?”

His voice, low and smooth, cut through your train of thought. Dark eyes met your own, and your heart unexplainably quickened. You could sense that he wasn’t being accusatory, only genuinely curious. But how could you put this into words…

“Well…I know we first met not too long ago and aren’t very close, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend more time together like this to change that. Break the rest of the ice I guess.” Warmth flooded your face, but you continued to look into his eyes. His brow quirked.

“Are you keen on getting to know me better, then?”

“Yes.” You nodded your head, smiling softly. “Is that ok?”

Gogeta appeared to mull over what to say next, placing his fork and knife down. The way he was gazing at you wasn’t something you could fully put into words, but there was something awfully cute about it. Has anyone ever shown interest in him like this? Most likely not. You frankly struggled to believe otherwise.

“Yes. I don’t mind.” To your delight, a little smile appeared on his face. It further made him endearing, but you could pinpoint something…hesitant? About it. You completely expected him to be honest with you, so you doubted he was lying for your sake, but something told you to question it anyway.

“Are you sure? I get it, if I’m coming off as weird…”

“No, you aren’t. I’m not used to this is all. Someone wanting to…know me.”

So your suspicions were correct. But did his words there carry hidden meaning? You didn’t know for sure. Regardless, now you believed Gogeta just didn’t have much of anyone to talk to like this. A shame. Your interest in his life was growing more and more, but you weren’t at the stage yet where you could try and pry into it. You didn’t want to scare him off. He was so fascinating.

“That’s changed now. But don’t worry, only share what you’re comfortable with me knowing. And I’d be happy to share more about myself too. So don’t be shy.”

You winked at him. He started blushing again, just what you wanted to see. This time, he regained his composure quickly and shot you a little smirk that had you grip your fork tightly. He resumed eating, and you followed suit. He finished his plate in the next minute.

“Oh, did you want seconds?”

“Sure, if you didn’t want any.”

Gogeta ended up eating everything else you prepared for the evening, and still mentioned to you later that he wasn’t full. You certainly learned then that his stomach was apparently bottomless.

(PROSHIP/COMSHIP DNI. BLANK/UNCUSTOMIZED BLOGS DNI.)