#if something changes about my writing... it could be my editing ^^'

[morgana-larkin]

Hii! I just want to say, I really enjoy your style of writing!!

And also perhaps request :)

I’ve been thinking about the Party ep from S3. Maybe reader attends with Melissa, and ends up having to take care of a drunk Mel, could be fluffy or smutty whichever hehe.

I am thinking though established relationship, either wife or girlfriend :))

Hopefully you like this concept and can put your own twist on it!

Thank you 🥰

Hello! I can’t believe I’ve gotten 3 prompts for this specific episode and I love all the different ideas! Here’s your request! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

My Lovely Fiancé

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, breast kink, strap on

Words: 3.2k

“So tonight, I’m your protector? Making sure you don’t do anything stupid while drunk.” You ask her while you sit on her desk and she nods.

“You know I can do crazy things when I’m drunk.”

“Like propose to me?” You ask and she smiles.

“That was only stupid because I wanted to ask you the right way.”

“And you did, and now we're getting married next summer.”

“Who knew that my miracle would be a woman.” Melissa tells you and you wrap your arms around her. She gets in between your legs and kisses you.

“And who knew that Melissa Schemmenti would be soft when in love.”

“Zip it you.” She says and then kisses you again.

“Lovebirds, I’m closing the school in 15 minutes.” Mr Johnson says and you pull away from each other.

“We should go, we gotta get ready.” You tell her and you both walk out of the school and to Melissa’s car.

You both get home and change into your outfits for Janine’s party.

“Barb wants to get there an hour early as we know Janine will need help.” Melissa tells you and you nod.

“Well you can go early but I’ll be there a little late.” You tell her and she tilts her head at you.

“And why are you going to be late?”

“I have to go pick up my outfit from the tailor, remember? It’s been ready for 2 days but I haven’t been able to pick it up yet.”

“Ok, I have to go, Barb is almost here to pick me up.” She says after checking her phone. “She was going to drive us but I guess I’ll meet you there.” She says and gives you a kiss.

“I’ll see you there, I love you.” You tell her.

“I love you too.” She says and then you both go downstairs. You head to you and Melissa’s car just as Barb pulls up.

“Aren’t you coming to the party dear?” Barb asks as Melissa walks to the car.

“I gotta go get my outfit from the tailors but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You tell her. “Keep an eye on my wild fiance until I get there.” You tell her and she nods.

“You know I can hear you.” Melissa complains and you smile.

“I know.” You say and then get in the car and drive to get your outfit.

You pull up to the party about 30 minutes late and knock on the door to see Mr. Johnson blocking it.

“Mr. Johnson let me in.” You tell him.

“Do I know you?” He asks.

“Do you want me to punch you in the face? Melissa taught me how to do it properly.” You tell him and then he moves out of the way. “Thank you.” You walk in as the party looks to be in full swing and you look around for Melissa or even Barb. You run into Janine who looks to be stressed out. “Hey Janine.”

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Something wrong?”

“Everything is wrong, nothing is going right.” She says and you look at her confused.

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone to whatever crisis is happening with you, do you know where Melissa is?” You ask her.

“She’s in the middle of the dance floor with Barb.” She tells you and you nod.

“Thanks, your party looks great.” You tell her and then walk to the dancefloor. You see Melissa and Barb dancing and you go to walk up to them. “Melissa!” You yell over the music and she turns to look at you.

“Heeeyyy! You made it!” She slurs out and gives you a dramatic hug.

“Holy crap, how drunk are you?”

“I’m not drunk, just happy that you’re here.” She says happily and you smile at her.

“You’re clearly drunk…and apparently so is Barb.” You add as you look to see Barb dancing without shoes on.

“Dance with me, my lovely wife.” She says and grabs both your hands. “I can’t wait to permanently make you my lovely wife. Let’s get married right now!” She says and you widen your eyes.

“No, I’m not marrying you when you’re drunk.” You tell her and she pouts.

“I’m not drunk on alcohol though, I’m drunk in love with you.” She says very close to your face and you smell the alcohol on her breath.

“How about I get us both drinks?” You offer and walk to the kitchen.

“I’m too sober for this.” You say and roll your eyes. “Here Melissa, your favourite beer.” You tell her and hand it to her.

“I have the best fiance in the world!” She shouts out and takes a sip.

You and Melissa start dancing with each other and you keep having to stabilise her as her coordination isn’t the best when drunk. Then the lights go out and the music stops playing and you hear a lot of ‘boos’ from everyone.

“Y/n?” You hear Melissa ask and you turn on your phone flashlight.

“I’m right here Mel.” You say with a smile and she giggles.

“It’s like we’re in an eclipse.” She whispers and you laugh.

“Ya it does.” You tell her and you mess up her hair a bit and she gives you a glare. She then leans forward and captures your lips with hers. Melissa puts her hands in your hair while you wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah! I’m blinded by the light!” You hear Barb say and pull away. You quickly realise your phone flashlight was pointed right at her eyes.

“Sorry Barb.” You tell her.

The lights suddenly come back on and the dj gets the music ready and they start the music again.

“Come on Y/n, let’s dance!” She says and starts dancing. She then suddenly pulls you in closer to her and takes control of the dance. She spins you around so your back is pressed up against her front and she wraps her arms around your waist. She then leans in close to your ear so only you can hear her. “With you pressed up against me like this, I just want to pound into you with the strap until you can’t walk.” She says and you lose your balance for a second and Melissa notices. “I think you want that too.” She adds.

“Melissa, you’re drunk and not thinking straight.” You tell her.

“Thinking straight is for straight people.” She tells you and you giggle.

“That’s true, and we’re not straight.” You say with a smile.

She’s about to reply back but then you see Janine start to dance and people backing up to form a circle.

“GO JANINE! GO JANINE!” People chant and you and Melissa join in.

An hour later, everyone starts leaving and Barb calls Gerald to come pick her up. You and Melissa wait until Barb is picked up and then you lead Melissa to the car to drive you both home.

“You know I had a lot of fun tonight!” She says quite loudly and you giggle.

“And you’re gonna feel like shit tomorrow.” You tell her and she laughs.

“You know I haven’t forgotten about wanting to pound into you until you can’t walk.” She says and you glance at her quickly before turning your attention back to the road.

“Play on your phone.” You tell her and she does take her phone out.

You get back home and you help Melissa as she stumbles back into the house.

“Let’s get you upstairs and to bed.” You tell her and she hums.

“Want me already?” She asks and she gets closer to your ear.

“We need to get you upstairs before you pass out.” You tell her and she scoffs.

“Schemmenti’s don’t pass out because of a bit of alcohol.” She slurs out and you shake your head at her.

“You didn’t have a bit of alcohol though, you had a lot.” You tell her as you make it to the bedroom. You drop her onto the bed and then you take her blazer and shirt off.

“Seems like you want me since you’re undressing me.” She says and then you take her bra off and put a pj shirt on her. “What the fuck? What’s with the shirt?” She complains as she tries to take it off. You then push her gently and she falls back on the bed. You then take her shoes, leather pants and underwear off. You try and put some shorts on her but she moves her legs, making it harder so you decide to just ditch the shorts.

You tuck her in and then you go and get ready for bed yourself. Once you come back out of the bathroom, you see her already asleep and you roll your eyes and then climb into bed. Once you get in, she unconsciously moves closer to you and you wrap an arm around her before you fall asleep.

Melissa wakes up first as the sun is in her eyes and she whines. “Y/n?” She calls out and you wake up but don’t open your eyes. “Y/n where are you?” She calls out again.

“I’m right behind you genius, my arm is around you.” You tell her and she grabs hold of your hand. She then gets a notification on her phone and she grabs it to see a calendar note.

“Y/n?” She starts.

“Ya?”

“Why is there a reminder on my phone that says pound into Y/n with strap?” She asks you and you open your eyes and look at her phone.

“When the hell did you… you must have put that in there in the car when I kept denying your advances.” You tell her and you laugh.

“You were able to deny me?” She asks and you nod. “And how hard was I trying?”

“Honestly? Not as hard as I thought you would.” You tell her and she turns around to face you.

“Why don’t I have shorts on?” She asks and you chuckle.

“You kept kicking your legs when I tried to put them on so I gave up.” You tell her.

“And why do you have shorts on?” She asks and you look at her.

“Because I didn’t get plastered last night. I had one drink when I got there and nothing else.” You say and she hums.

“I think you should take the shorts off.” She says with a deeper voice and you look at her eyes and see how dark they are, her normal green is now gone.

“And why’s that?” You ask with a smile.

“Because you’re on my to do list today.” She says and she takes her shirt off. Melissa knew that you can’t deny it when she’s fully naked, or if she’s topless, as her boobs are too perfect for you to say no to.

“You're using my weakness against me.” You tell her and move closer to her and she winks at you. She leans forward and kisses you and doesn’t pull away until you moan. You start to move down to suck on her nipples but she stops you and you look at her.

“You can’t touch them unless you take your clothes off.” She tells you and you quickly take your pj shirt and shorts off. “That’s better. As cute as you are with my shirt and your little shorts on, I much prefer you without anything on.” She says and she tilts your chin and places a kiss on your lips. “Now be a good girl and suck my tits really well.” She says and you happily move your body down and put a nipple in your mouth.

You start sucking and swirling your tongue all over and she’s spewing out moans and gasps. It doesn’t take long until you move your hand down and start circling your clit, turned on by the noises she’s making and sucking on her tit. It isn’t until you’re sucking on the other one that she notices you touching yourself. She pushes you off of her nipple and grabs the hand that you’re touching yourself with, and you let out a whine.

“I think you’re being bad, touching yourself without my permission.” She tells you and you look up at her. “Without mommy’s permission.” She adds and you try to suck on her nipples again but she stops you.

“I’m sorry mommy, let me please you.” You plead and she smiles.

“I know how you’re going to do that.” She tells you and then she goes into the nightstand and pulls out the strap and the dildo. “I’m going to put this on with some lube, and then you’re going to ride it.” She tells you and you nod.

You watch as she puts the strap on and then puts the dildo on it, she grabs the lube and puts a good amount on it. She lays down on her back and instructs you to start riding it. You get up and straddle her lap, you go up a bit and she aligns the dildo with your entrance. You slowly sink down on it, feel as it slowly fills you up, stretching you out. It isn’t until you’re halfway down that you realise that she grabbed the biggest one and it’s filling you up nicely, stretching you out a good amount, especially since you haven’t used the biggest one in 2 months.

“It’s big.” You whine out and she grabs your hips, helping you slide down all the way.

“I know, I want to watch as your pussy just swallows up the entire thing, like the little whore that you are.” She says and that just makes you wetter. You take the whole thing as she bottoms out and then you take a second before you start moving your hips. “That’s it, keep going until you come all over it.” She says and you whimper before you move faster. “If you come like a good girl then I’ll reward you by pounding it into you.” She says. “The way I know you like.” She adds and you suck in a breath at imagining that.

Melissa made sure to position the dildo exactly where it will rub against her clit, knowing how you’ll ride it as she’s gotten you to do it before. She decides to tease you more. She brings a hand down to her pussy, under the strap, and she covers two fingers in her wetness. She then brings them close to you and instructs you to suck on them. You put them in your mouth and you immediately taste her in your mouth, making you move faster and getting you to want to come even faster than before. Melissa watches as you suck her fingers and feels them in your mouth and how your tongue is licking them clean. She really should have thought that through as it’s teasing her more than you. She decides to fuck it and grabs your hips, she pulls you off the strap and you’re looking at her confused.

“Don’t give me that look, you look and feel so good, I can’t wait any longer.” She tells you and she gets you on your hands and knees before she slams the dildo in your entrance and you gasp out. She doesn’t start off slow, she starts pounding into you and you start gasping and moaning right away and that makes her smile. “You like that baby, don’t you? When I’m a bit rough with you, isn’t that right?” She asks you and you whimper. “Use words my love.”

“Yes Melissa, I like it when you’re rough with me.” You tell her and she stops and bends down to your ear.

“When I’m making you feel good, I’m not Melissa, remember baby?”

“Mommy.” You say and she smiles before she sits back up and continues slamming the dildo into you. She watches as you just take the dildo, all of it, all at once and she moans out.

“I just love watching you take all of me, all I give you.” She tells you and she stumbles a little as her orgasm is building. “Oh god baby, do you feel it building, your orgasm?” She asks and you nod.

“Yes mommy, I’m getting close.” You tell her and she grabs your hips to stabilise herself.

“That’s good baby, mommy is getting close as well.” She tells you and you can tell as she’s getting messy, stumbling a bit.

“Make me come mommy.” You whimper out and she moans out.

“Oh god, I love it when you beg.” She says and she sees your legs start to shake. She can hear your breathing get heavier and she has to move harder so she knows you’re clenching around the dildo. “Come baby, let me hear you.” She says and you take a few breaths before you come with a moan. Melissa comes a few seconds after and she holds onto you for stability. She gently pulls out of you but it still has you whimper as it’s big and you’re still coming down from your high. “I know baby, shh.” She says and then she’s out of you fully and she takes it off. “Come here.” She says as she lays down and you join here, and she wraps you protectively in her arms.

“You sure got over your hangover quickly.” You say after a few seconds and she laughs.

“Well my lovely fiancé needed me to make her feel good. I still have a headache though.” She tells you and you look up at her.

“You know you said something last night.” You say and she hums.

“I bet I said a lot of things last night. What stupid thing did I say now?” She asks.

“It wasn’t stupid actually, it was nice.” You say and she looks at you. “You called me your lovely wife and said we should get married right now.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Well I do think about just going to city hall and getting married but this is your first wedding and if you want a wedding then you’ll have a wedding.” She tells you and you kiss her.

“Really?” You ask and she nods.

“I asked you to marry me a month ago because I wanted to spend the rest of my days making you happy and seeing that smile of yours.” She tells you and you can’t help but smile at her words. “That’s the smile I’m talking about.” She says and boops your nose.

“I know next year we’re getting married but if you want to start calling me your wife then you can.” You tell her.

“Really?”

“Ya, I mean you’re going to be calling me that for the rest of our lives, why not start now?” You tell her and her smile grows.

“Ok, my lovely wife.” She tells you and gives you a kiss.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

@dashbag-art

@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

@that-october-night

@schemmentigfs

Let me know if you want to be added!

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[forevergoldgame]

Episode 1 Progress Update, Part 2

We're in the process of putting all the story scenes we've written in-engine! As we go, Dan's hacking through the remaining art assets, and I'm tying up some loose ends related to systems and variable storage.

Keep reading for more details!

Writing, writing, writing

At this point, the draft mentioned in the previous update has been more or less fully realized. There's still plenty of editing to do, of course, but the episode's narrative is complete aside from a collection of short variable scenes.

We won't reveal too many specifics just yet, but the scope of Episode 1 will take you from Quincy's last day as mine inspector through to the christening of the Prince's Convoy. Along the way, you'll meet most everyone from the demo (save for Oscar and Imani) as well as a few characters you haven't, make foundational choices about the kind of man Quincy is, and actually get a proper introduction to the setting and conflict.

Changes to: art, character designs

You may have noticed some of the portraits in these screencaps are different from the demo. Once Episode 1 is out, it will be much harder to make design changes, and so we've decided to take the opportunity to revise a few character designs we weren't happy with. Nothing too crazy, but you might see a change of hair style or color here and there.

Art updates might happen here and there throughout development as Dan's work evolves, but the character designs themselves are less likely to such alterations after release. (Not counting diegetic changes in appearance, of course.)

[PICTURED: Dan's faltering suspension of disbelief over Lucas's ability to continuously dye his roots while traveling. ]

Changes to: systems, traits, and more

As we wrote Episode 1, I spent a lot of time rethinking the back end. Writing an entire episode gave me perspective on how the systems I wrote for the demo did and didn't work. I could talk at length about this, but most of said systems (like experience/leveling and reputation) were not represented in the demo due to its small scope. Seeing as no one would really understand or appreciate the details, I'll try to keep it brief instead.

LEVELING: Originally, leveling was going to be based on earning experience points. EXP would be awarded for completing quests and attempting skill checks, but we found that pacing an EXP curve in a game like this was a lot of work for a system which is ultimately at odds with a story based more on "narrative" than "winning." In the end, we did away with the concept of EXP in favor of a leveling system that is tied to main story progression.

REPUTATION: You may recall from the demo that Quincy's statistics listed a few different reputation continuum: rebel or orthodox, apathetic or ambitious, and so on. These were going to be tallies that kept track of the player's cumulative actions so that the system could easily calculate how certain characters felt about Quincy in a somewhat organic way. However, once we got writing, we realized the system was needlessly complicated, full of logistical holes, and redundant with other decision tracking handled by other parts of the system. And so, I replaced it with...

IDEALS: Ideals are somewhat like traits in that they alter text pertaining to Quincy's inner monologue and offer the player special dialog options. However, unlike traits, Quincy's ideals are somewhat malleable. If a Quincy with the "earnest" ideal continuously lies at every opportunity... well, eventually someone will notice.

AFFINITY/FRIENDSHIP: Much like reputation, the affinity system from the demo was both overly complicated and too simple to do what it needed. We knew we wanted something more organic than the standard "you completed my sidequest so now I'm in love with you because you're the main character" RPG approach since Forever Gold is more story-based, but the solution I came up with... was stupid.

I won't say how the new affinity system works - it'd spoil some of the magic if I told you exactly what actions the game was tracking and why - but it's simple on the back end while having enough complexity to create interesting roleplaying.

TRAITS: Traits have largely remained the same but have gained more importance as other systems shifted. In addition to the eight available to choose in the demo, there are three more to see in Episode 1. A few of them have been tweaked or renamed for clarity: the two traits that shared the name "Haretouched" are now called "Pariah" and "Maverick" to prevent confusion, and "Cleithrophobic" has been expanded into "Wilding" so that it better acts as a parallel quirk to Plutonist.

BETTER TOUCH CONTROLS FOR MOBILE + SMOOTHER NAVIGATION FOR DESKTOP: As it says on the tin. A lot of navigation that felt like it should have been swipeable on mobile or scrollable on desktop wasn't. But it is now!

In closing...

We're getting there. Man are we getting there. We've been pulling crazy hours on this lately.

-LS

[perotovar]

get to know your moots

tagged by angels @guiltyasdave @kedsandtubesocks and @morallyinept ty bbs <3

-

what's the origin of your blog title?: my title is only visible on my desktop theme, but it's "white roses, black doves" which is a lyric from "take me back to eden" by sleep token

OTP(s) + shipname: halsin/astarion, frankie/santiago, thorin/bilbo, shane/tim, river/frankie, joel/tess, i have a lot lmao

favorite color: dark green

favorite game: baldur's gate 3 (no one is surprised)

song stuck in your head: "take me back to eden" because i started singing it when i read my blog title lmao

weirdest habit/trait?: biting my nails. i've tried stopping for years. fuck anxiety.

hobbies: playing video games, making gifs, making bracelets

if you work, what's your profession?: not currently! i'm a student.

if you could have any job you wish what would it be?: something in the film industry. cinematography, film editing, music, anything

something you're good at: i think i'm pretty good at being creative. not in any particular way, someone else would have to tell me lol

something you're bad at: at the moment, writing LMAO i can't get the words out, maaannn

something you love: i love a lot of things lol i'm having some arnold palmer tea/lemonade rn so i'll say that

something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: metal bands and pedro lol

something you hate: a lot lmao but right now, it's homework

something you collect: so much................. it's a problem. little figurines/funko pops, d&d dice, plushies, stationery, etc

something you forget: SO MUCH. it's the depression/anxiety i think

what's your love language?: acts of service/words of affirmation

favorite movie/show: narcos and lotr

favorite food: ramen

favorite animal: bison and bears!

what were you like as a child?: i was a relatively good kid, but i was a little shit too lol

favorite subject at school?: english, american sign language, and orchestra

least favorite subject?: math/science, but i appreciate these a LOT more in college

what's your best character trait?: i think i'm a good friend? again, someone else would have to tell me lol

what's your worst character trait?: i hold myself back a lot out of fear

if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be?: today? i'm skipping class to do homework, so i guess i'd change that i'd have to do homework LOL

if you could travel in time who would you like to meet?: jrr tolkien

recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!): literally any of the frith fics people wrote 🥹 they're all SO amazing

-

np tags: @sp00kymulderr @for-a-longlongtime @quinnnfabrgay-writes @ozarkthedog @chronically-ghosted

@moonlitbirdie @userparamore @iero @morallyinept @sin-djarin

@covetyou @arthurhowlett @reedrchards @lotusbxtch @wolvieispunk

@gasolinerainbowpuddles @djarinmuse @almostfoxglove @schnarfer @missredherring

@agentmarcuspike @ghostofaboy @bonezone44 @yopossum and anyone else that wants to <3

[centrally-unplanned]

God, this is a very petty example but so on-point:

By Reid Hoffman and Greg Beato.  As you might expect, I am in synch with the basic message of this book. I received a review copy which on the front says “Tyler Cowen edition.”  There is a forward, made out to me personally and highly intelligent, relating the book to my own work.  There is then a gallery of images of me, very well done by AI image generators. This is all yet another way in which many books will change, I am all for the innovation.

Okay, so the people who wrote this book, sent you a review copy, with a forward customized to you via an AI tool. That is fine - only really valuable if you are someone with mountains of writing online to use as data, but w/e, that is a use case. And then they included AI generated images of you. For a nonfiction book about technology innovation.

What in Yudkowsky's name is the point of that?? Who wants pictures of themselves attached to random books?? Did you not already know that AI could generate images? What are you learning, what is the value-add here? I don't want books to be customized to me like that; that legitimately is something a crazy person would want.

But it is a gimmick, it is something that seems like it could not be doable before and therefore is impressive by default because effort was applied. Which is false by the way, in the past I could just use the internet to pull actual photos of you in the same way coded into the book. You just haven't seen that before because that is the act of a serial killer. If this was a horror novel, this could maybe work? Legitimately, AI is useful after all, I could see that passing muster. But his praise has no calibration to it, no judgement, just the syllogism AI = Good on loop. No wonder he is so impressed with AI tools; he has been degrading into one himself.

I think Tyler Cowen is kinda officially washed at this point. He still has many good individual takes, by no means a broken thinker. But there is just too much hype and meme stuff now, too much useless crud to churn through.

Obviously AI and the Trump Culture stuff is the biggest part. He was not a man who would positively link to ludicrous Trumpian shillcoin stuff by grifters in the past, but he does that now on the regular, with positive framings. AI is very impressive, but he links every progress report breathlessly, often with framings that are at odds with the actual text of the document. And again with a credulity towards people whose literal job is hyping their product he would not have previously had.

I have never once clicked on a link of his where he says "o1 pro comments" as he does so often now and learned anything - it is, incredibly reliably, either straight wrong with hallucinated facts, providing vague "list of possible ideas" with no actionable conclusion, or just 90% copying the wikipedia page for the topic. I started clicking the links intentionally, btw, to test this idea! I tracked 10 results, 0/10 that I thought added knowledge worth the cost. Not useless, 6/10 I thought were "slightly better than googling", but that is not results that match the tone.

Previously you could tell that he was essentially "compromised", like on crypto he has a bunch of investments there and so he essentially is boosting the product. Which, that is life, you just kinda ignored it. But he was on a series of podcast recently, like he had a blitz - and each one was incredibly mid. All simple, high-level answers to questions, never taking a thread and running with it, not even really engaging in conversation. And I know that he can do that, still? But he needs the inspiration, and now it is hard for him to find when previously it was always on call. (Tellingly, it comes out with his friends, old grooves reactivating)

So I don't think it is just shilling. Part of it is that he too emotional, he let the Culture War tiger out. He obviously just really hates the Dems at this point and very openly blogs partisanly when previously he made a point of goring both oxes. And the other part, sad to say, is that I think age might be hitting him a tad early. Honestly one's 60's aren't even rare for this, it is the default assumption that you stop pushing and settle into your rut at that point. Happens to us all, happening to him now.

Anyway, sort of an official notice my brain sent to myself that I am officially downgrading him on the reliability metric. He was absolutely in my Top 5 Bloggers for econ/policy for a long time; but all things come to an end.

[yandere-sins]

So I thought I’d give a little life-update as there’s a lot going on at the moment and I think it’s visible on my blog as well. Maybe the positives first:

I do really like my new work, I like that I have set hours (even if I do overtime here and there) and though it got incredible stressful the last few weeks, I think the four people that work in my office space are the coolest in the whole company and I love the support I am getting, it’s something I always wanted for my work-life tbh! My dog is also doing very fine, she’s really a total sweetheart and I wouldn’t know what to do without her, and at least I, myself, am doing pretty okay-ish physically, so nothing to complain there.

Now to the negatives.

Unfortunately, my mom’s cancer returned but is quite hard to pinpoint. She went back to an even more aggressive chemotherapy and we’re hoping for the best. Honestly, I don’t wish cancer on anyone, it’s such a tough battle and even just as the primary caretaker it’s been really hard to deal with for me, luckily I have grandparents and a brother who all deal with it and help and support, so that’s good! My mental health though is suffering. It’s biting my own butt now, but I cancelled therapy to focus on work at the beginning of this year and now my therapist is fully booked, so I will have to sit out this month probably. I am telling that because that’s the reason I am struggling with concentrating on one thing for a long time, which includes writing, which explains the fluctuation of posts you are seeing, since I try to get requests and drafts done on the weekend when there’s less stress. Sadly only works like 30% of the time...

Going forward I have decided to indefinitely pause commissions. I have noticed that they put too much pressure with the deadline and expectancy on me when I am already struggling and sometimes need a day to myself. I can’t say when they’ll come back, but thank you all so much for your interest and support, it’s always a pleasure to write your ideas and I never had a bad experience with commission ♥

Good news for Mermay: it’s still happening! ... buuuut I am shortening the story I came up with. I think I was too ambitious with the three routes I teased, so I am trying to figure out how to ensure that it won’t drag out as much as Atreo’s story last year. Unfortunately, the start will be delayed some more, but we were going to celebrate Mer-June anyway, so at this point it probably doesn’t make as much difference (’:

Because the question arose a few times already, I will not be playing Honkai Star Rail. It has a few reasons, but the main one is I don’t have the time. Sorry to everyone who asked about it, but it’s just not the right time for me at the moment! ): I’ll probably be miserable again later when everyone has moved on to it and I am stuck behind but I have to make cuts somewhere ;;

I actually have some commissions and requests that I haven’t released yet, so I will try to schedule some of these in the meantime while I work out how to go about stuff. If you’ve been around for a while you probably know I like routines that’s why it’s always important for me to build them and keep them up. Other than that, I’ll probably focus on Mermay and my own writing projects which will happen rather irregularly. No guarantees on posting, sadly ):

I do realize tho that it just isn’t always possible to keep up frequency of posts and interactions I had when I started this blog, as much as it saddens me. I have to prioritze my real life before my internet presence (and I really need to not feel guilty about taking breaks from everything ever so often ;;), so if you see me vanishing for a few days, it’s just that really.

Thank you everyone who stuck around and supports this blog ♥ There’s another big milestone coming up veeery soon and I am always in awe that so many people would stay to read my silly little stories!! If you have some time and don’t mind waiting for a response, I’m always happy to chat and answer questions, so please don’t hesitate to hit me up!

Thanks everyone ♥

[roomba-mangga]

thoughts on thistle and yaad's dynamic that i vomited in the tags of another post but will now try to articulate here: they're not actually family, or at least they shouldn't be. not in a conventional sense anyway. framing them as uncle and nephew (even in a non-literal, silly fantasy world way) rides more on technicality than anything concrete.

what i mean by this is yaad calls thistle by name and says he and delgal were raised "like" brothers. he talks about thistle like he's an outsider imposing himself into the melinis' space, and it's clear that thistle was never legitimized as a member of the family. for thistle's part, though we don't know how he would treat yaad pre-demon brainrot, it's safe to assume based on the way he punishes him—turning him into a doll—and how little is shown in the way of any sort of relationship between them that thistle only cares* about yaad as an extension of delgal (otherwise i'd expect something like kabru and milsiril, because it's not like another complicated interspecies family dynamic would be out of place, yet there's next to nothing on them even in bonus content, just their scant interactions in the main story).

in essence, they're strangers to one another. thistle's desperation to preserve the illusion of a family, a model where he doesn't even fit, was the snare they were caught in for the past thousand years of stasis. yaad-as-nephew is a prop to uphold that illusion, and thistle is playing a role he's unfit to play. in the context of post-canon interactions, attempting to reconstruct that facade would only be a reenactment of trauma for them both (in a deeply compelling way i'd love to watch unfold, tbh), as that "uncle and nephew" framing places thistle in an implicit position of power over someone he's already traumatized through misuse of authority in the past, a role which also perpetuates his adultification and yaad's infantilization in turn. it'd mostly be an obstacle to any real connection.

best to burn the melini family bridge, i think, and if there's still anything salvageable left in the rubble, let something different supplant it.

[icewindandboringhorror]

boy in silly sitting positions compilation

[lemonthepotato]

Cringe warning: very bad Esperanto.

Mi povas mergi min en Esperanto čar mi ne faris multe da progreso ekde 2019. Mi kredas mi komencis lerni en 2019, sed mi rezignis dum (por?) unua jaro. Mi rezignis la hispana, la franca, la japana kaj la irlandano čar… nu, estas evidente kial. Tro da lingvoj lerni (por lerni? Lerni sentas malgxuste.)

Sed, mi restis kun la Esperanto(n?) čar gxi estas facila. Mi volas lerni lingvon por la sakeo (that’s… is that seriously the word? Sakeo? I joked once that Esperanto is 80% English words with -o and the end and 15% other languages with o- at the end, but I digress) de lerni lingvon. Homoj diras ke tio estas malbono kialo, sed, kial? Estas amuza… ne estas krimo amuziĝi.

Honeste, mi estis (estis for ‘have been?’ doesn’t feel right…) uzi Google Translate por helpi min, sed ne por lambastono. nur por kontroli se mia gramatiko estas bona. Ne estas, evidente, sed… mi estas nesekura pri gramatiko. Mi scias ke gxi ne estas bona, sed gxi estas probable pli bona ol mi sed mi ne uzis gxin.

Cxiuokaze… mi havas punkton kun ĉi tio; estas malfacila mergi en konlang! Jes, mi povus aligxi servilo de Discord, sed… la embaraso. Mi estus kiel, “Bonvolu… mi estas…” kaj havas furzo de cerba! Cerba furzo? (Googling how to stutter in Esperanto. Great.) (also I’m realising I said bonvolu instead of… oh my god? Am I seriously forgetting hello? Oh, Saluton!)

Cxu mi probable lernu la lingvon de miaj lando, la irlandano? Probable, sed honeste? Neniu parolas la irlandano en la nordo. Ili apenaŭ en la sudo. (Ne estas sude, mi ne zorgas se Google translate diras alie… ne sentas gxusta.)

Cxu mi havas punkto kun cxi tio? Ne. Sed, hej, diras al mi kiel CLAPPED mia Esperanto estas. Kaj, jes, mi eĉ ne provis traduki clapped cxar gxi estas pli amuza al ne.

Mi estas tiel malbona pri Esperanto. Mi devas fidi al tradukistoj por helpo. Mi uzas Google Translate por helpi kun tempoj kaj gramatikoj, sed la vortoj estas plejparte el mia cerbo, se tio havas sencon.

Mi ne havas kialon pri ĉi tio. Mi supozas, ke ĉi tio estas testo de miaj kapabloj. La rezultoj? Tre malbona, sed, hej, mi afiŝos ĉi tio, ĉiuokaze.

Edit: after writing this post, I got an easy, actually video about languages recommended… lol

[sisterdivinium]

That Sylvia didn't know from the beginning of shooting the show about Mother Superion having been a halo bearer before is absolutely wild based on her performance. Talk about intuition...

[hiiragi7]

Not my usual content, but I made something I wanted to share...

Edit: Now with an ID from @a-captions-blog! Thank you for writing it!

[Art description: A Pokémon-themed comic featuring OP as a Pikachu. Long description follows.

1. The tips of Pikachu’s ears are shown with text that says, ‘I’m a Pikachu / My world is filled with lots of cool stuff. Sometimes it feels like anything is possible!’ Under this is a collage showing a Charizard, a Pidgeotto, a Nidoking, an Eevee, and an Ivysaur, all in the background as the Pikachu looks up in wonder. Text reads, ‘All sorts of types, all sorts of attacks, all sorts of Pokemon.’

2. Text says, ‘But...only two ways a Pikachu’s tail could look.’ Two boxes in the upper corners show the male and female Pikachu tails, respectively. The male has a rectangular end to his tale, and the female has a heart-shaped end to hers. Text continues, ‘So then, what am I?’ A large drawing of the narrator Pikachu is shown, with an arrow pointing to their tail, whose end is split somewhat like scissors and doesn’t match either the male or female drawing above.

3. Text says, ‘Too pointy to be [female], too much of a V-shape to be [male]. I thought there was something wrong with me.’ Under this are three cascading panels showing the Pikachu from below at an angle emphasizing their tail. The second panel shows mel further away, and in the final panel she have disappeared entirely. Text on the panels reads, ‘I felt / very, very, very / alone.’

4. Text says, ‘But then, something happened. I found others like me.’ The art shows the narrator reaching out to another Pikachu. Under this are three other Pikachu. One has a rounded tail, one has a tail that has been stitched up to be rectangular, and one has a tail with a slight spike at the tip.

5. Closeups are shown of each of the tails from the previous panel, with text that says, ‘Round tails, scarred tails, spiky tails.’ Under this is a drawing of the Pikachu all hugging with lightning coming from their cheeks. Text reads, ‘They told me nothing was wrong with me, and I wasn´t alone anymore.’

6. Text says, ‘There are many ways a Pikachu’s tail can look. I’ve heard there’s at least over 30 different variations.’ Under this are two panels. The first panel shows the narrator lying on their back on a background of male and female symbols. Text reads, ‘Some days are still hard.’ In the second panel, the Pikachu with the scarred tail is shown with text that says, ‘My friend tells me her tail used to look just like mine. It was taken from her.’

8. The narrator is shown sitting and looking upwards. Text reads, ‘Some trainers won’t accept Pikachu that aren’t [male] or [female]. They alter our tails without our consent. But things are getting better. We are making change. We’re fighting so that our tails will be left alone.’ Under this is a panel showing the four Pikachu running happily towards the right. Text reads, ‘We’re all on a spectrum. Every tail looks different; anything is possible.’

The final text reads, ‘This is a comic about intersex people.’ The watermark in the lower right says @ PostManic. \End descriptions

[gremlinhourz]

genuinely expecting to fail my first class in college!! and its like as much as i can get upset at myself for continuing the cycle of procrastination that ive been trying to break free from for years, i also feel like the reason im primarily upset is because i feel like im disappointing others and/or giving them a bad impression of me. like im not upset because i think i could have done more, im upset because i think other people will think i could have done more. when like honestly with school ive just developed an "it is what it is" attitude, like all i can do is try and try again, and if that means taking eng111, crashing and burning, but most importantly learning, then taking eng111 again, so fucking be it

[skyburger]

new title & bio... hopefully the way the number displays is just on my tiny phone screen? so if its like that on everyones screens well. My bad guys

[say-duhnelle]

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck youuuuuuuu

Hello, Tumblr. 

If you joined us before November 2022 and predominantly post on web, you will be familiar with the two post editors—the legacy editor and the “new” web editor (formerly known as the “Beta editor”).

Beginning May 15, we’ll gradually be working to remove the legacy editor as an option for creating new posts. New posts created on web will be created in the new web editor. We hope to complete this change by July 15. 

This change only affects accounts created before November 2022. Newer accounts already default to the new web editor.

This will not affect posting on the apps because we switched to this new editor on the apps about four years ago. If you use the apps, you’ve been using the new editor all this time!

This will not affect what you can include in a post, only how you get there: You can still include all the different types of media in a post, only now, you’ll do that via the new web editor’s content blocks instead of selecting a post type from the post type bar at the top of your dash. So, if you’re halfway through a text post, and you decide that what this post really needs is your pet reptile, then click on the little red image icon in the post editor, select an image, and voilà. Lizard boy steals our hearts.

If you still prefer to post on web using the legacy editor, please keep reading because the rest of this post is for you.

How can you prepare for this change?

Once we have completed this update, you won’t be able to create posts using the legacy editor. You will be able to edit posts made using the legacy editor, at least for now. 

Start using the new web editor ahead of the switch. This will help you help us troubleshoot any issues you might encounter. It’ll also mean you’ll already know the ropes before the switch is final. 

Talk to us. Send us feedback. Especially if you’re switching from legacy to the new web editor. We want to hear about your experience: Are there any specific workflows or features in legacy that you want to see in the new editor?      

If you use a theme, make sure to check whether it supports posts made using the new web editor, and update it if that’s not the case. 

For those of you trimming reblogs: @rpschtuff has created an incredibly detailed master post that gets into the nitty gritty of that practice in the new web editor.

XKitters: XKit Rewritten was explicitly designed with the new web experience in mind. This means that you will need to use XKit Rewritten when creating posts in the new web editor.

That’s all for now. Remember, you can always get in touch with us. If it’s regarding the new web editor, then Support is the place for you. If it’s about something else, @wip is your guy.

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[fictionalmenxyn]

hi can you write rafe x wife. Happily married and have 3 teen kids. Sons friends comes over and talks about mom as milf( idk maybe something else up to u) and Rafe and his wife hear it! Then Rafe f*cks her

of course I can!!

•———•

ఌ𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧ఌ

Pairing: husband!rafe x wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, p in v, fingering, no mentions of protection (be safe, wrap it before u tap it!), breeding kink, dirty talk, possessive/jealous Rafe.

Feel free to send more reqs! Thinking of doing dad!Rafe so send me things you’d like to see! Or more husband!rafe idm! Anything!

🝮🝮🝮

Just getting home from work, you got out of your Range Rover. Collecting your handbag, laptop and some papers from the back seat.

You headed into yours and Rafe’s estate. Walking through the front door. You already knew your three sons had friends over. Your eldest, Cody had asked you over text. You slip your heels off by the door and walk through the large foyer and over to the spacious living room. You smiled as you saw your boys Cody (17), Morgan (16) and Ollie (14 1/2). You spoke “hey boys, you all having fun?” They all said their “heys” and “yeah, thanks”.

You subtly noticed the way their friends eyed you up. Teenage boys never really cared if you saw them checking woman out. Well, these lot didn’t. You looked over to the attached large kitchen, smiling as you see Rafe.

You walked over, putting your things onto the counter. Rafe was leaning forward. His elbows on the counter as he watched the tv from the kitchen as your sons and their friends had soccer on. You walked over to Rafe. Smiling as you put your hand on his back. “Hey, love, you ok?” He turns his head to look at you. His famous grin plastered on his face. “Yeah, all good, how’s work?” He pulls you by the waist. Giving you a soft but firm kiss, showing you how much he missed you since you left this morning. You pull away to answer “good, made some great photos today, all I have to do is change the lighting and tone..” he smiled and pecked your lips “good, can I watch it while you do it?”

Rafe loved what you did. You were a photographer for models, perfume/jewellery commercials or fashion designers. You took the photos and edited them to put on magazines or advertisements. He loved how much you enjoyed your job to.

You nodded “of course, Rafey” he smiled “good girl..” you pecked his cheek.

You sat at the island counter, going through the photos on your laptop. As Rafe leaned against the counter, arms crossed, taking the occasional sip from his drink.

You both overheard Cody and his friend talk. His friend, Jack, asked “dude, is that your older sister or something?” Cody asked “who?” Jack replied “the one that’s in the kitchen with your dad.” Cody shook his head “nah man, that’s my mom.” Jack replied “no fucking way?? She’s so hot, dude, your mom is such a milf, no joke.”

Rafe practically chocked on his drink, as your eyes widen and press your hand to your forehead. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. What did Jack just say? You couldn’t be going mad, Rafe heard the same thing.

Cody spoke “shut up! Don’t say that!” Jack shrugged nonchalantly “dude, I’m just saying, I’d tap that if I could.”

Your eyes widen, Rafe’s jaw clenched. Rafe didn’t need to be and wasn’t jealous… not exactly… he just didn’t like the fact that a seventeen year old friend of your sons had just said that about you… his wife, the mother of his children, his childhood friend, his lover…

Through the rest of the day, Rafe stuck to your side. You’d changed into some sweats and a crop top. Once you were done you both sat on the couch; Rafe next to you. He had his arm around you the whole time. Occasionally kissing your cheek or temple. Showing the boys, your his. He’s the one that put that beautiful diamond ring on your finger. He’s the one that put three beautiful and handsome boys in you. He helped you create life. He’s the one that gives you happiness.

🝮🝮🝮

Soon after, the sun started to set. Your three sons had asked both Rafe and yourself if they could stay the night at one of the boys house. Rafe agreed and told them to be safe and have fun.

As soon as he had shut that front door. You were in for a real treat tonight. Rafe walked back over to the couch. He put his one knee on the seat and he placed a hand on the side of your neck. His cold metal of his rings and watch press gently into your warm neck. He crashes his lips into yours like a starved man. His tongue quick to be shoved into your mouth. You knew what he was up to. You could tell it from the exact moment Cody’s friend said what he said about you.

You knew Rafe since day one, knew him better than he knew himself. So you knew what he was doing. And you were definitely not complaining.

Rafe placed one hand one your thigh and guided you so you laid back on the couch. While he stayed on top of you. He groaned against your lips. He mumbled “‘m gonna make you feel so good, baby” you gasped softly when you feel Rafe’s hips press against yours. He puts his free hand from your thigh, moving it to the waistband of your sweats.

Putting his hand down your sweats he could feel the material of your panties and your soft, wet skin. He groaned “you wearing the black lace ones?” You nodded. He grinned “all f’me…mine” you mumbled “yes, Rafey…”

His fingers slowly move up and down against your heat. You moaned softly. You gasp when you felt his middle finger slip in. He tilted his head and started to kiss along your neck. He groaned, his finger slowly pulling in and out. As he inhaled the sent of your vanilla perfume, he groaned once again. He mumbled against your soft skin “feel so good on my finger, want another, babe?” You nodded. He replied “words. y/n.” You whispered “another, please, Rafe” he slipped his ring finger in. Causing you to gasp softly.

After a few more seconds he pulled his fingers out. You whimpered, he grinned “oh we aren’t done, just wanna take you upstairs… prefer the bed.” Your mouth practically waters as you watch him move his fingers to his mouth. Cleaning you off his digits.

He picks you up, over his shoulder. Taking you upstairs and not wasting anymore time.

Placing you down on the bed, he was quick to take your clothes off. All piece of clothing on the floor. While he starts to take his off, you watched in awe. Your reaction to him will always be the same. It’s like looking at him for the first time, over and over. You never got tired of him. Never have and never will.

You watched as he was swift to remove his boxers. His huge length springing free. He moved onto the bed. His lips go to yours as his hand moves to his length. Pumping it a few times, then lining up with your entrance. You gasp as he started to push in. Once he was all the way in he leaned over you. His chain dangles by your chin. His hands either side of your shoulders. His biceps flex as he looks down at you.

“You’re so pretty under me, sweetheart.” You moaned softly as he slowly started to move in and out. He chuckled lowly “you know, what the boys said… was right..” he groaned. “You are a milf… my milf… such a hot momma, baby… I know you want another… want me to give you one?” You moaned as he picked up the pace a little more. “Words, sweetheart.” You nodded “yes, fuck! Want another…”

He moaned hearing your words, “fuck Y/n, I’ll give you another… I’ll fill you up, make your baby bump come back. Love you baby bumps… every one of them…” you moaned. His one hand moves to your lower stomach, pushing on the bulge on your lower abdomen. Causing you to moan, as he goes deeper.

He picks up his pace, he moaned “fuck, gonna make you pregnant again. Wanna see you with my baby in you again.” He goes harder. “Fuck can feel you round me, that make you excited, baby? Thinking of me getting you pregnant again?”

You nodded, grabbing onto his bicep. Nails digging into his tan skin. He groans at the feeling. He spoke “gonna give ya a girl this time, I wanna girl, so I can spoil you both, yeah? Let you two have the world.” You moan “oh Rafey!” He grinned. “Yeah? Like that?” You nodded. He leaned back. Grabbing your hips, guiding you against him as he thrusts into you.

He can feel your close, “gonna come f’me? Let me have it, sweetheart. You do that f’me and I’ll do it for ya..” you placed your hand on his chest. Then holding his chain. Wanting him closer, he knew you well. He knew that meant you were about to finish. He leaned down. You moaned “fuck, gonna-” “do it, finish over my cock f’me, love…” those words hit you like a brick wall. Every. God. Damn. Time.

And he knew it too.

You moaned one last time, then finishing. Causing you to tighten around him. He chased his realise and finished inside you.

He moaned as he slowed his pace. Still thrusting, just slowing down. Chasing both of your climaxes. Once he came to a spot. You had you usual ‘thank you’. He kissed both cheeks, then your forehead, temples, chin, nose and then your lips. He mumbled against your lips “you ok? Feel good, baby? You did so good..” You nodded “so good.”

He gently pulled out, causing you both to inhale sharply. He gently picked you up. Going ahead and doing your aftercare. For all the time you both knew each other. And past Rafe, with his many hook ups. Not once did he do aftercare. But for you? His childhood friend to girlfriend to fiancée to wife to mother of his children?

He’d give you the world, he’d kill for you. Protect you. Die for you, live for you. He’d do anything for you. Even if it’s as simple as aftercare. He loves you. You love him.

🝮🝮🝮