#no I genuinely want to print this out I’m so proud of it

[philsmeatylegss]

Just lost a mutual of two years because I called Dan a faggot😞😭

[empty-movement]

Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection

IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.

Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?

This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 

It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 

What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:

Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.

Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.

Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 

I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!

We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha

* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM

You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!

I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D

If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!

** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 

I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Ursula Pt II

Yuu’s dreams become strange, her legs and eyes twitching in her sleep, hands clenching around nothing, sometimes waking up more exhausted than when she slept. Professor Taka frets, seeing her fatigue grow, and the slow the lessons even further, focusing on fine tuning the basics. She can wordlessly conjure most elements at this point, and her precision with spells is borderline miliary at this point though. They are delaying, and she knows it.  

She can’t tell him that it’s outside of her dreams too. Times in school where the shadows don’t seem to be right, or delay half second before they disappear into the light. Her shadow to be exact. A constant feeling of being watched, not maliciously, but intrigued. Picked apart like a puzzle, not of the picture but why the pieces work together.  

It didn’t start until the seashell earrings though, so her and Ursula talk and she sleep a night in her room. The teeth that scraped the back of her neck entering into that leviathan mouth return, a soft bite at her heels. When she yelps, they retract though, smooth scales moving over the mark like an apology. Vaguely, she can hear whispers, soft cooing and nothings, hands soothing over tired eyes and hands.  

Ursula monitors her, and confirms that she is falling into a state between meditation and true sleep, though who is visiting she can’t say. The magic is close to familiar but just different enough. It's not malicious though, no hurting her, but it definitely wants her attention.  

Professor Taka’s jaw is tight, but there is nothing he can do. The being in her bedroom mirror hasn’t visited though, and said nothing, so it can’t be too dangerous?  

Still, she finds an indent on her bed more often than not most mornings, the feeling of claws in her hair as he chases them away the only way he really can.  

Despite being a man that spent a lot of time in shadows, he doesn’t want her there.  

“Hey, Yuu,” Grim rubs against her side, “Do I need to grab the notes from somebody for Alchemy? I did the lab perfectly, as expected from the greatest mage, but you might need them for the mid-term or something.”  

Yuu chuckles, giving a soft pat between his ears. If she tries to full on pet them, he’ll purr and be all embarrassed. It’s a beastman and direbeast thing apparently, as Jack got far too flustered when she asked to see how he’s ears connected into his head.  

“Deuce made me a copy, and he’s have gotten much better since Riddle sat down and helped.” She turns the corner, catching a whiff of seasalt and cold, “I’m glad he’s getting the help he needs now.”  

As expected, Deuce has an extra copy he printed from the library, chest puffed and proud.  

“Surprise!” he says, “I made you a copy of and Ace’s notes, just in case!”  

“Don’t include me!” Ace chirps, cheeks slightly flushed.  

“Thank you, Deuce!” Yuu says, glancing over them. “But what do you mean surprise? Didn’t you tell me that you had earlier today?” 

Deuce tilts his head, eyes furrowed. “No, I didn’t. I just got the idea during class and rushed down to the library right after.”  

Yuu stops carding through the pages. She knew that Deuce was going to have copies of the notes. She knew it.  

“Ace, did you tell her!” Deuce turns, pointing a finger at him. Ace denies it, the two doing some light bickering, but Deuce pulls back just a little to see her pinched eyes.  

“Maybe I just assumed, since you two always pull through for me.” She doesn’t believe it. She’s saying it but she doesn’t believe it for two seconds. But Deuce smiles that boyish smile that’s far more genuine than anything, and it diverts it long enough for the conversation to move forward.  

When she visits Ursula that evening, she’s perplexed.  

“Are you scrying through your school mirrors?” she wonders out loud, rifling through ‘books’. Held together by coral and hardened seaweed to press the letters to the pages, but the principal was the same.  

“I didn’t think I had? I can’t remember...it didn’t feel like it.” Yuu pauses, twisting the cup in her hand.  

“Something to say my dear?” Ursula looks, raising a well sculpted eyebrow.  

“I...don’t know. Let me think about it?” 

The dreams had started again. Visions? These of the Sorcerer of the Sands, or at least bits and pieces of him in the story itself. Some homeless man named Aladdin seemed to be the center, but that was a theme of all their stories. Yuu always seemed to get them from the prospective that made them look the worst.  

She wants to talk to the Vizier herself. But Professor Taka would never allow it. He becomes more and more protective with each release, and Ursula isn’t even fully out yet, just a visit in the room.  

When Yuu returns from school, he stays close, pushing for sleep and rest but gives no explanations for why she is so tired. He feels more tight lipped than ever, just telling her to let the adults be adults for once. Mary doesn’t say either, pressing different teas into her hands and filling the quiet with old memories of her husband and son, times in court and her friends. It’s nice, but it doesn’t help.  

Next week, she decides, once winter break starts. If she can’t figure it out by then, she’ll find a way to sneak out and talk to the Sorcerer.  

[embrysunrise]

Cherubs - Urianger

I recently got it in my head that Urianger makes so much sense as a trans character and now that's all I can see so I added top surgery scars to his chest and have been doing several little doodles of him feeling liberated in his gender euphoria!! Focusing on this piece, I'm most proud of the wings and the metallics, but genuinely I feel like this whole thing is a big level-up from the last cherub I did for Estinien. I wanted to really pay attention to the subtleties of Urianger's personality and character development. I based his wings off of a swallow's wings, birds that herald distance traveled, good fortune, and good luck but can be often overlooked because they're not super flashy birds. The colors were meant to be muted in them; the whole thing is supposed to have an almost-somber feeling, which is why he's shown crying, because there's so much burden that Urianger bears for the sake of the people he cares about, and he does it all silently and without complaint. His development in ShB is what helped me to fall in love with him as a character since I had mostly written him off up until that point, so I chose a background from the cutscene trailer for the expansion. The red of his ribbon was done in the same color as the gems from his jewelry to tie all of it in, and I added a bit of glow and sparkle to his cards, but I chose not to include the astrolobe because the magic is in him :> I'm really pleased with the tone of everything; this kind of soft tragedy vibe is something I'm familiar with but the muted palette is something I'm not used to. I think it turned out great and I really look forward to turning this into a print in the future! Absolutely in love with this piece, and with Urianger. I can't stress that enough. WIP shots will be uploaded soon! See the entire tutorial process over on my Patreon!

[nospendtillbrooklyn]

Pausing a No Buy, Failing a No Buy: Belated. Because I suck at consistency

It’s been a minute since I updated. This is for a couple of reasons. The first, and most important is that I suck at consistency. I get distracted easily (I do have ADHD after all) but I also get busy with my life, with work and I run out of bandwidth to write about my experiences. Which I think is actually kind of a shame because I’ve had some really interesting experiences around the no-buy. The second reason for the lack of updates is that I attended an art show a couple of weeks ago and immediately upon coming home came down with covid. It sucked. I spent 7 days basically a zombie. Between the virus causing fatigue (like going let the dogs out to go potty and need a two hour nap fatigue) and the cold medicine induced fuege state I basically became one with my couch for a week. And the week after while I was testing negative, and didn’t have any of the worst symptoms I was still struggling with the fatigue.

But I’m recovered. And living my life (okay I am really just catching up on work after two weeks of covid related crud.) So let’s talk about the No Buy.

Originally when I set out to do my No Buy, it was the beginning of August. I set the original intention to be two weeks. Just to see if I could really do that. As I dove in, after a week I extended it to September 21st. I chose that date because it was roughly 6 weeks from the official start of my No Buy, and because it was during a trip surrounding my exhibition at the art festival. And I love me a gift shop, y’all. So I knew that would pose a challenge of different kinds for me. So I wanted the option to be done, and not beat myself up if I bought some souvenirs. As my No Buy progressed I realized I wanted to extend it till December, December 31st specifically. So I made some choices.

The first was that on September 21st I paused the No Buy. I was in a beautiful, incredible place and I was so tempted and struggling with Not Buying Things. Especially since the town I was in is almost entirely supported by summer tourism, which was coming to a close. So I compromised. I paused the No Buy as that was my original end date. What I found was that I did not want to buy all the gimmicky teeshirts and things in the past I might have been tempted by. My brain was recognizing, acknowledging that I have plenty of clothes (I am by no means a clothes addict, but I have plenty of clothes and could stand to have a few less… especially tee shirts.) But what I did buy was stickers, and post cards to put into my scrapbook journal as a means to document my experiences. I bought a beautiful artistic map print of the absolutely stunning wilderness that surrounded this quaint little mountain town. And one bandanna that had a beautiful print. All of which I think would constitute a failure for my No Buy, which was why I paused it.

Did I need to? I am not sure I did. I think I might have been okay not buying the things I did. I didn’t -have- to buy them, I had no real genuine need of them. But they were fun, cool and I collect stickers to put into my scrapbook journal and onto water bottles etc. I think my No Buy might be more authentic had I not paused it. But I felt so proud of myself that how I spent money that weekend was almost exclusively on food (required because I was staying in a hotel so there was no cooking option.) I did not buy anything for my service dog (look his collection of collars is extensive, I buy a lot of things for him… that he does not need.) I did not buy any fun tee shirts. I didn’t spend frivolously on expensive meals, mostly because I would purchase a lunch, eat half and take the rest back to my hotel to heat up later. I toured the little shops of the town, and I saw some art, and things that I really liked and would genuinely have enjoyed in my home… but I recognized they weren’t things I needed in my home. I have more art then can fit on the walls of my small house. I have more books and  tchotchkes then can fit on the bookshelves I have. (One of the many reasons books are expressly forbidden in my No Buy my TBR is impressively stacked.) Something has definitely changed with in my brain about shopping. But I am not perfect.

I did Fail. I booked a photosession for myself and my horse. I have almost no photos of the two of us together. I’ve recently lost 30 pounds and don’t have any good headshots for my business site. I thought this was a good opportunity to congratulate myself on the weight-loss, and get some decent photos. But I realized about an hour after I booked the session; this was not a need. I don’t HAVE to do this. There is no dire pressing need that couldn’t wait till next spring after the No Buy is scheduled to be finished (more on this later.) I confessed this failure to my accountability buddy (who is not my partner, though my partner is also part of my accountability.) And I felt bad about it for quite a while. I could have canceled it and forfeit the deposit. But that didn’t seem the right thing to do either. So I told my partner I would write about this failure, and what happened during and how my brain simply did not recognize it was a failure until after the fact.

The photographer had placed an add, I follow them because they happen to live on the property where I board my horse. They help out around the barn, and her work is honestly beautiful. It has a very modern western flare, and she is always taking photos of the boarders and their horses. She was advertising mini sessions on site. And I thought “man I’d love some photos of me and Horse.” (His name is not ‘Horse’ though it would be funny if it was, but this is a place anonymity and my horse’s name is fairly recognizable to any one who knows me, or of me.) Next thing I knew I had paid a deposit. I wasn’t even aware of it until it was over. And it took my partner pointing out ‘did this break your No Buy?” for me to even realize: yes, yes it did.

Immediately I felt sick. What the hell happened? How did I simply skip out on recognizing this behavior as a violation of the No Buy? How did I just make this decision and not think twice about it? I spiraled through the dark thoughts of this invalidating the entire project. I swam in dark waters of beating myself up, and kicking my mental ass. Raking my psyche over the coals of ‘ you are a failure!’ My heart raced and racked my brain to figure out HOW I let this happen.

The reality is that the reason I made this choice was because one of the things I have done through out myself is ‘treat myself.’ I treat myself when I am feeling good, and when I am feeling bad. Shopping was used as a means to measure ‘rewarding myself’ for things, or making myself feel better. Now this is a learned behavior, both of my partners have throughout my life done this for their children and themselves. It’s a behavior that was modeled to me very young from my grandmother(s) as well. So I come by it honestly. But I need to break this cycle. This is the part of my No Buy that is going to be hardest, because what I bought wasn’t a material good (which I clearly have already gotten much more adapt at avoiding) I did not connect that the behavior was the same at it’s core. That ‘treating myself’ is going to be the biggest thing I have to unlearn in my journey to under consumption, environmental conscious consumption and just having Less Stuff.

So what did I do? I’ve kept the appointment. Because I did not want to forfeit the deposit. Because the photos will have use and purpose in my life and my career. But I also added to my mental checklist about reasons I am spending money. And I went back and redoubled my consumption of books and online content (y’all youtube is free and invaluable to help reprogram your brain, also podcasts are free) that helps me stay in the head space of Not Buying Stuff. I don’t know that I will post the photos here. Annonymity is important to me in this space, at this moment.

Things like this are valuable lessons in a No Buy journey. Because things like this are where you do learn what triggers your spending, and what you need to do to consciously reprogram your brain to avoid these things effecting your wallet. Is it a lesson I needed? I don’t want to say yes and have it feel like I’m justifying what I did. But the truth is, I am not sure I would have realized that trigger point any other way. I was genuinely unaware of how I was failing my No Buy in the moments where I signed up for this photoshoot. It was entirely blocked in my mind and it was only later, with an outside perspective, that I recognized what really transpired in that transaction. I can be more mindful going forward, something I am not sure I would have really recognized with out that failure. It’s not justifiable, and I owe it to this blog and the honor of my No Buy to be truthful in confessing how I failed. But hopefully the lesson I’ve taken away it will serve me going forward.

And forward I shall go. Right now the No Buy is scheduled to end December 31st. But I have already discussed with my partner extending it to a full year, so August 2025 would be the end. They have very wisely pointed out I should focus on getting to the end of this year first (I am very prone to “if a little is good, a lot is going to be great…” right up into injury and catastrophe.) But the longer this goes on, the more I want to enter a lifestyle that emphasizes the principals of a No Buy. I want to simply LIVE this way. That when I do purchase something non-essential it’s conscious, it’s intentional and it serves me and not serves just buying something. I want to live this way because it’s better for the Earth and our struggling environment. I want to live this way because I want to someday own land for my horse, and to be a farmer again (I grew up on a horse farm.) I want to live this way because my partner and I want to live in a 500sq foot home with out a life burdened by Things. So while officially this No Buy will end December 31st. I think it’s going to end up being extended again. And from there? Maybe I can simply just finally change my behavior to be a conscious consumer of very little things. I want to live this way because my rig has 202,000+ miles on it and will not live forever, and a car payment is going to make a giant impact on my budget.

And maybe as time goes on I can get more consistent with this blog. And I can delve deeper into my family’s pattern of Treat Yo’Self shopping that has clearly informed my own behavior. And I can share ways I am trying to consume less, and impact the environment in more positive ways.

I hope if you’re here, if you’re reading this, you stick around. You find value in my self reflection and the weird, inconsistent thoughts on what I am trying to do. If not, that’s okay. Because I’m going to keep at it, even if I struggle with it.

Enjoy a cellphone snapshot of the place I was in for my art show.

[rosenallies]

Kind of specific but can you write some more Marcia angst [sashnarcia] please

I have this theory that fic writers and readers all have like one or two specific characters they write or read that they wanna project all their angsty or sad feelings on<3 and this request just reminded me of that theory <3 and also I was rlly struggling to figure out what to write for this so I googled angst prompt ideas and this was one of the suggestions and I genuinely could not think of anything better :/

——

“Marcia, honey-“ Sasha cooed sympathetically, placing a gentle hand on their shoulder, “I think it’s time to go.”

Tears in their eyes, Marcia shook their head, burying their fingers in her kitty’s soft fur one last time. “I-I’m not ready to let him go,” they sniffed, the florescent lights of the veterinarian’s office combined with the heavy tears they’d been crying nearly the whole day in anticipation for their appointment making their head throb.

Anetra came up behind them, taking their other side and wrapping her arms around them. “I’m gonna miss him too, but you gave him such a good life, baby, he was old and sick. It was time.”

Marcia nodded, “I know. It wouldn’t be fair to keep making him suffer,” they paused, choked up, “I’m just still so sad.”

While all three of them grew to love Marcia’s little cat, Sasha and Anetra’s sadness at the loss of the cat was nothing compared to Marcia who had confided in them many times that their cat was their only friend throughout their last years of high school and all throughout college and their early adulthood.

Sasha pet Marcia’s hair back tenderly, tucking some behind their ear. “It’s okay to be sad about it, my love, he’s probably just as sad to leave you.”

“He knows I’ll miss him,” they said quietly, taking a shaky breath and grabbing onto their partner’s hands, “I guess I’m ready to go.”

Kissing their cheek, Anetra squeezed their hand. “It’ll be okay sooner than you know it,” she assured them.

They smiled a tight lipped smile. “It will be because I have you two to help me through it.”

“We’re here for you, no matter what,” Sasha said softly, “do you want to say goodbye one last time and then we’ll go?”

Sasha and Anetra watched with pangs of pain in their chests as Marcia whispered their final goodbyes to their beloved pet. When they finished, they breathed deeply and extended their hands to their partners to take, which they gladly did.

“I’m very proud of you, darling. I know how hard that must’ve been,” Sasha said as they left the vet’s office after filling out the last bit of paperwork.

Marcia shrugged. “I’m just glad he’s not sick and hurting anymore. He was my best friend for over half my life.”

“I’m sure he felt the same,” Anetra replied, lovingly rubbing their arm, “I had all those pictures you sent me printed at the store, are you ready to go get them and we can make that collage we talked about when we get home, or are you not quite ready?”

They nodded, a small smile spreading across their lips, it was all they could muster but it was genuine. “I’d like that.”

[themusingsofafanficwriter]

The True Meaning of Family - Chapter 7

Summary: A found family Supernatural AU. Ophelia Humphries is an English 19-year-old who is just trying to finish her online history degree when she receives a letter from two brothers she never knew she had.

A/N: Chapter 7 is here! Sorry for the little break, life got in the way. If you want to keep more up to date, I'd suggest heading over to AO3. If you didn't see the previous chapters, you can find the master list here. Let me know what you guys think!

T/W: Death of both adults and children.

Dean was right, this seemed like a simple haunting.

A 53-year-old woman went missing, and then another, and then another.

“Did anything happen in this town?” Ophelia asked Sam eventually.

“Uhhh not much can happen in a town the size of Reeds Spring, Missouri. So if we look through old records, we might find something that stands out.” Sam said with a smile.

Hours passed.

Ophelia made lunch. Then she made dinner. Then she went and found a sweet treat. Soon enough it was almost midnight when Sam quickly turned his laptop around to face her.

“A girl went missing… 40 years ago.” He said slowly enough so Ophelia could connect the dots herself.

“These women would have been 13? Did they know the girl that went missing?” There was a slight tone of excitement in her voice. “Do we know what happened to the girl?”

Sam’s face was soft and nurturing, like a teacher who was proud of a student.

“Okay, slow down, we’ve not solved it yet. If I give you the girl’s name, can you look at any records about her and I’ll work the angle that these women may have known her.”

He paused as he turned the laptop back to face him and skimmed the rest of the article.

“Okay, it looks like her name is Ruby Evans and yeah, she was 13 when she went missing after not making it home from a friend’s party. They found her body 13 days later near where she went missing.”

“Does it say who her friend was?”

“Yeah, and….” Sam paused as he checked the recent missing women articles. “The friend whose party it was, Amanda-Rose Jameson, was the first woman who went missing.”

“Okay, so the ghost is 100% Ruby then?”

“Most likely. I’ll go let Dean know that we’ve found the ghost’s details. Do we know if she was buried or cremated?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh big time.” Sam paused slightly before explaining. “If she has been buried then we can go find her grave, dig it up, burn her bones and then that usually does it. If she has already been cremated then we have to find any small mementos that she could still be tied to like baby teeth or a locket of hair.”

“Gross.” Was all Ophelia could muster to say.

Sam just nodded in response. Ophelia scanned the old newspaper obituary.

“Looks like her parents just buried her in the local cemetery. They asked people to come wearing purple as it was her favourite colour… How sweet!”

A slight wave of sadness crept into her chest as she pictured a family grieving the loss of their child

“That's definitely a start. Nice work ‘Phelia, I'll talk to Dean and we can get Ruby to the other side soon.”

Then the waiting began.

Her brothers left early that next morning, hoping that they could dig up Ruby’s bones and get back within the day.

When they weren't back by midnight that night, Ophelia began to worry.

‘I’m sure everything is fine. They do this all the time, it is quite literally their job.’ She thought to herself. But the waiting and not knowing was excruciating.

She had done everything she could to keep busy.

Cleaned the kitchen, bathrooms and other communal areas. Wrote a paper, started writing another for university, and attended a meeting with her personal tutor.

“Oh, a new background Ophelia? Have you moved again?” Her tutor asked from her Zoom window.

Dr Ahn, a plump British-Korean woman with a speciality in Asian mythology and a love of loud printed clothing, seemed genuinely concerned for all of the people under her tutelage. She had made it known to Ophelia over the last term that she always could talk to her about Ophelia’s home life.

The Docter cocked her head prompting Ophelia’s reply.

“Yeah… I have. Umm, some family from my dad’s side reached out and I’m now living with them.” She said cautiously.

“Oh well, that’s good!” Dr Ahn replied with enthusiasm. “And how are your studies?”

Yet, after all of that, Ophelia hadn’t heard from Sam or Dean since they had arrived at Ruby Evans' parents home.

Not knowing what else to do, she reached out to Cas.

A whoosh of wings and the angel was standing in the doorway of the library.

“Is everything okay Ophelia?” He asked.

“Uhh.” She started. Not wanting to make a big deal out of nothing.

“I can read your mind if you’re unsure how to tell me.”

“Oh no. It’s okay.” She took a deep breath. “Have you heard from Sam or Dean…?”

“They have not reached out to me”

“Is that normal?”

“Quite normal.” The angel had a quizzical tone. “Are you okay Ophelia?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sooo fine.” She said, trying to convince herself.

“I can tell when you are lying, even when you try to cover it with sarcasm.” Cas said as he crossed the room towards the couch Ophelia was sitting on.

“Right, yeah.” She sighed. “I guess I was expecting more updates? They said they’d be home by now and I’m trying to be so chill about it.” Ophelia’s head was in her hands, hiding her face and the cringing that she was now experiencing.

“That is understandable.” The angel replied as he sat next to her. “Would you like me to check in with your brothers?”

“That seems weird. Like they are obviously good at this and I know nothing about any of this.” Ophelia gestured to the bunker around them.

After a long pause, Cas placed his hand on Ophelia’s back and gently rubbed in small circles. Ophelia had not realised how anxious she was about this until the small kind gesture of Cas.

“They are not used to having someone that would want them to check in with.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She said with a sigh.

“You should eat and get sleep. They will be home soon.” Cas said finally as he stood.

Taken aback by his abruptness, Ophelia just blinked in response. Another second passed and when she opened her eyes again, the angel was gone.

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

“Hello.”

“Castiel! What are you doing here?” Sam asked with a start.

Sam was sitting on a single bed in a motel, papers strewn around him and his laptop propped up on a stack of books.

“I am here about Ophelia.” He replied.

“Is she okay?” Dean asked cautiously as he came out of the bathroom.

“Have either of you contacted her?”

The brothers glanced at each other. “No, why? Is something wrong?” Sam questioned.

Cas sat on the second single bed and studied the two men.

“She, in her words, is trying to be ‘sooo fine’ and ‘so chill about it’.” Castiel said, mimicking Ophelia’s likeness. “But she is simply worried about you both.” “Oh. Is that it? She’s worried about us?” Sam questioned further.

“Yes.”

“She knows we know what we are doing right?” Dean replied.

“Yes.” Was all Cas responded again.

“I’m confused.” Dean stated.

“Oh shoot, is that the time?” Sam said with a start as he checked his phone. “We told her we would be home hours ago, Dean.”

“Right but she knows that this sort of thing takes time. And… and cases can evolve and become more complicated right? Like, she knows that?” Dean gestured to the papers.

Sam looked guilty. “How would she know that Dean?” he replied.

A flash of guilt crossed Dean’s face too. “I’ll call her.” He replied.

“It is best that you do not mention that I told you about this. Remember she is trying to be ‘so chill about it’.” Castiel once again mimicked the Winchester daughter.

Ophelia had not been asleep long when her phone rang.

Dean’s name flashed across the screen. She sat up as she clicked the answer button.

“Hey kiddo, sorry for not getting in touch earlier. The Ruby case took a little bit of a turn.”

‘Remember, you’re so chill.’ Ran through Ophelia’s mind. “Oh, no worries!” She said in as chipper tone as she could. “Uhh, how is it going?”

“Ahh well, you know how these things go.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“I quite literally have no idea how these things go.”

“Oh, yeah right.”

The phone went silent for a moment.

“Well, we found her grave, dug it up and lit it on fire.” Dean started explaining the case. “We thought that would be it but another one of the women who was at that party went missing.”

Ophelia nodded absent-mindedly as Dean continued.

“So, probably some baby teeth or something kicking about at her parents' places, we thought.”

“So we were wrong about it being Ruby? Ophelia asked.

“Oh no it’s definitely her, kiddo, you and Sam did solid work.” Relief filled Ophelia.

“We’re thinking it’s an object that’s keeping her here. We saw her bedroom, her mom has kept it as a shrine to Ruby. It could be anything in there.” Dean explained.

“Did she have a childhood toy she loved? Or maybe a diary?” Ophelia asked as she looked around her new room that was already filled with mementos of her childhood. “This is a teenager, not a young child, ‘Phelia.” Dean replied softly.

“I am almost 20 years old and you have seen my room both here and at my mum’s place.”

“Point taken, but this is a shrine to her, where would you start, you know, as a teen girl and all that.” Dean said with a sigh.

Ophelia slouched back into bed, racking her brain for what she would love so much as a young teen that her spirit could attach itself to.

“What was Ruby like? A girly girl or more masculine or what?”

“She liked lots of things, horses mainly by the look of it.” Dean said.

“Did she compete?”

Dean looked over at Sam and repeated their sister’s question, there was a pause but eventually, Sam nodded.

“Look for her first big win ribbon or trophy.” Ophelia said. “I danced as a kid and the way I was obsessed with winning those medals and for a while I slept with my first place medal on my bedside table every night.”

“That’s a great place to start. I’ll let you get some sleep. Thanks, kiddo.” Dean said.

“Yeah, no worries Dean.”

“Oh and kiddo, We really are sorry for not calling earlier.” Dean replied with a genuine tone.

“It’s really not a problem, Dean. Don’t worry about it.” Ophelia kept her voice even as she picked at a hangnail on her thumb.

The phone went dead and she was alone once again. Eventually, Ophelia fell back asleep and hours passed.

She didn’t hear when, almost 10 hours later, Sam and Dean re-entered the Bunker and started debriefing with Cas.

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

Later that morning, Dean walked over to Ophelia’s room and gently knocked.

A groggy Ophelia woke to Dean pushing the door to her room open and poking his head around it.

“Can I come in?”

She hummed a reply and gestured for him to sit on the end of her bed. She flattened her curls as Dean made his way across the room.

“Your thinking was right, Ruby’s spirit was tied to a first-place dressage medal she had won earlier that year.”

“Oh, nice.” Ophelia finally said. “Did you find those women?”

“We found one of them alive.” Dean paused. “Ruby had killed the others by the time we got there.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Why did she do it?” Ophelia finally asked.

“Well, they killed her.”

“Wait? Really?”

“Yeah, those girls weren’t her friends. They only invited her to that party to make fun of her and, I don’t know kiddo, they ended up killing her.”

The siblings were silent.

“So this was revenge?” She said.

“Yeah. Those women are the real evil if you ask me.” Dean said casually.

“I suppose they are.”

“Why don’t you come sit with us, ‘Phelia.” Dea said as he stood.

She nodded and threw back her covers. Her bright PJs instantly brought a smile to Dean’s face.

The morning was filled with the brothers recounting the final fight with Ruby’s spirit and similar fights that they had had, as well as the promise that they would be better at keeping her in the loop.

“You could always take me with you. Not on the hunt as such but, like, I could stay in the hotel or wherever you are staying and just do research or my uni work… or whatever.”

The two brothers looked at each other.

“Yeah, maybe, kiddo.” Dean said finally. The hesitation was clear in his voice.

“It could be helpful Dean.” Sam said finally.

“Okay, if you two are going to be like this, I want you,” He pointed at Ophelia, “trained in how to fire a gun and basic hand-to-hand combat before we take you out of this bunker and to the location of a case.

Sam and Ophelia looked at each other in astonishment, not believing how easy that had been.

“And I will determine when you’re ready.” Dean quickly added.

There it was, the caveat that made his relenting make sense, but at least they had made progress.

[vtforpedro]

update - tw in tags please read

I’ve been meaning to make a life/health/disability update the last week or so but those things don’t really matter to me right now. My cat Isis, my soulmate if ever there was one, died in my arms on Thursday morning at 10:32 AM. It happened after I heard a long, mournful yell/groan from her at 10:25 AM. She was fine before, then dead in my arms in seven minutes. 11 years and 1 month old. No warning, no lead up. To say I am devastated is an understatement. I genuinely don’t know how to live without my soulmate. She took half of me with her and my half, well... it’s circling the drain and has been for years. It’s why I’ve always said my cats and my mom are the only reasons I don’t unalive myself. My relationship with my mom is ruined and she won’t do family therapy, and my soulmate is gone. I love all of my pets the same, give them the same love, but there is the once in a lifetime or very rare animal in a long line of them who is just different and that was Isis. Tomorrow will be my third morning waking up and not seeing her come to greet me. She did that on the day she passed but I hung out in bed too long so she went to the bedroom. 10-12 minutes later and as I was getting up, I heard her cry. After attempting CPR, I knew the second she died and the ER vet’s front desk told me sometimes they choose when to go as I wailed with agony. She didn’t fucking choose this. She’d choose to be home if she could. Warm and loved. Not fucking that. I held her in my arms for 40 minutes. Then I held her on her favorite blanket on my lap for almost two hours. We wrapped her in another favorite blanket when we took her to the vet. We spoke with her vet, who is quite familiar with her, and he said it was likely a blood clot or sudden heart issue from what I described. Nothing to be done and no way I could have saved her. She felt pain and fear, but for a brief time she was aware that I was with her and I hope she was comforted by my presence in some way. I’m getting her cremains and a paw print back and one day I’d like to commission art of her. Right now, all I can think about is that I had not yet fully healed from the LP over a year ago so I could sit on the couch and she would lay on my chest and purr for an hour before falling asleep. What healing she’s given me for 10 years. Through some of the lowest points of my life, she has kept me going. I adopted her on May 5th, 2013. I lost her on May 18th, 2023. She was 11 going on kitten. Life is cruel and unfair. I wouldn’t wish going through those seven minutes of agony on anyone and I would turn back the clock to save her from the pain and fear, as she felt them both acutely. Life is so terrible to such innocent beings who have unconditional and insane amounts of love to give, as Isis did to anyone and everyone she knew longer than a day. Everyone always told me how sweet she was. They were always so shocked at how loud her purr was, the very reason I adopted her. I cannot believe I am never going to hear it or feel it again. I don’t want to believe it. She did everything with me and my morning routines are excruciating right now because she isn’t there. She went on most bathroom trips with me, we chatted up a storm every day, she laid in her designated second computer chair at my side, always always always laid at my side on the recliner or couch, and purred purred purred. Isis was the funniest, sweetest, most talkative, comforting, attention-hogging, purring machine. She was orange and proud of it. An instigating little shit and also proud of it. She is with me and I am with her, I hope. I’m still coming down from the shock of what happened but I don’t think this heavy grief will go away for a long time. The apartment has gotten too quiet and I’m lonelier than ever. Lilly is my lovebug and honey bun and she is looking for Isis all the time. Not because they were friends, but Isis did not let her have a moment’s peace! lol But watching her look for her is still incredibly painful. She was fully aware something was happening to Isis, as I had to push her away twice during those seven minutes, but not the concept of death certainly. Still, it’s only been 2.5 days and Lilly is becoming more anxious and restless. She spent today out in the living room with me. Almost all day. She is queen of the Queen Bed Kingdom and the bedroom is her territory (she and Isis had many words about it), so it was really unusual. Isis never really let her put her guard down out here and I hope she starts to. She will stop looking for Isis much sooner than I will. I see her everywhere. I feel her against my leg. I hear her. I feel the touch of her soft fur, of her headbutts, her cold nose as she always tries to lick my chin and cheeks and forehead and nose. I feel as if I could simply say Isis and she’d brrp and be here again. I don’t want to adopt another cat. I want to hang on for Lilly if I can. I want Isis with me again, even if it’s only her name on an urn and the fleeting touch of her paw in clay. But how I long to go back and experience adopting her and having her for another decade at my side. Maybe she’ll stop by my dreams and they’ll be kind ones instead. ☀️

[simplyreveries]

Congrats on the 500 followers I love your stuff so its well deserved!!! If I could please have a matchup id be over the moon! 🌺

My pronouns are She/Her. Im short, chubby, and adorable! I have fluffy curly hair, glasses, and I love wearing dresses and skirts or cozy sweaters. I usually wear bright colors or vibrant patterns a-la miss frizzle think pink skirt with grapefruit print or dress with cacti/dinosaurs but then I pair it with cute combat boots and a leather jacket.

My hobbies are baking and video games. But I also love taking walks, gardening (born and raised farm girl), going to museums, and learning new cool facts to add to my fact hoard. Basically I will watch documentaries for fun usually while also baking brownies.

Im an ambivert and flip flop from leave me alone in my bed nest to recharge to going up to strangers to tell them I love there makeup or hair. I try hard to be a kind genuine person who brings joy into the world but admittedly I have a petty ice queen side to me, like it takes a LOT to piss me off as im very patient and forgiving (messing with my loved ones is a fast track tho) but once I’m there I will take them down and they wont see it coming as I can be quite the sneaky ‘manipulative’ type. I do use my evil powers for good sometimes like helping 3 couples meet/confess.

I’m very loyal, but take a while to trust others and open up. Once someone has gained my trust and friendship I am very loving and affectionate this includes cuddles, massages if permitted and hugs. My love languages are Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation, so friends can expect random bombardments of genuine compliments or if they mentioned something they wanted / needed done consider it taken care of.

Despite all this and often being called the ‘mature one’ or ‘the dependable one’ by my friends I am actually very shy and easily flustered, I cant handle compliments of flirting without combusting. I will go from serious and put together handling things like a boss to squeaking and completely falling apart if someone says something really nice to me. I cant handle getting gifts either.

Uhh idk how to finish this so fun fact time I guess:

Did you know that certain chicken breeds can lay naturally occurring blue eggs? I raised several and those chickens are often very independent compared to other breeds. They still like getting hugs and pets tho! Also the eggs taste mostly the same but the yolk has more flavor.

i match you with trey clover!!

you two give me unintentional couple that are the parents in a friend group? whenever there's some trouble going on, especially within heartslabyul you two are someone like deuce usually comes to for advice. i'd imagine you two would always be baking with each other-- he'd be in love with someone who enjoys it as much as he does. only better for the dorm because that means twice the amounts of sweets obviously...

with what trey does in the science club, he does have a knack for growing plants in the school's botanical garden. as he also uses it to grow his own fruits and such for baking. he'd gladly show you what he's doing, he is particularly proud of his strawberries for tarts hehe.

it's funny because though trey thinks the world of you-- giving any kind of romantic compliments is so difficult for him. i mean, he's canonically bad at flirting. he can't help but feel bashful whenever you yourself seemingly shower him with praise. he tends to show his affection through acts of service like you, he wants to be someone that actively goes out their way and does something for you to brighten your day. trey wants to be reliable to you, because he's such a mess bringing it into words, he shows you all the time.

trey is affectionate but around others its very discreetly, hand on your back, playing with your hair, he likes holding your hand, he'd urb his thumb over the back of it too.

[winderlylandchime]

I literally went to exit tumblr and then remembered that I didn’t send the most important update:

Per my uncles and his husbands request (yes, the 63 year old men have officially joined in on the fun but they’re also acting as if they know nothing because of our mom) i made my brother (another) shirt to help with the big reveal and hopefully help with making him less angry. It has a picture of Britin on it, from one of their promo pictures. It’s the one with Randy in a white shirt and he’s hanging over Gale’s shoulder and they’re holding hands (it’s the only one all three of us agreed he’d like the most). And above the photo it says: ‘2023 gave me: a motorcycle crash, a broken wrist, and an unhealthy obsession with these two:’ My uncle is the one who came up with it and he was very proud of himself.

btw if anyone was wondering, it was a bitch to find a place to print shirts and then when i finally did, due to copyright they don’t do celebrities. So idk how those Queens did it. And i was telling my boss that and she looks at me and goes ‘oh my nephew prints shirts, i could ask him for a favor’ and he came through. I am hoping the shirt will make him less angry at me even though I genuinely don’t think he will be upset. He already found out that I kept our cousins updated and he didn’t mind it so we shall see.

And as for how the reveal will go, my uncles and I decided to just keep it simple and not beat around the bush. So the shirt will be wrapped in a box and tucked into it will be a note that just says ‘remember how you said you want an audience to discuss the show because I wasn’t enough? Well what if I told you that there is a group of people on Tumblr who kept up with your opinions and actually for some strange reason liked them and you? Because in that case: surpriseeeee’ and then I’m just gonna give him my phone with your blog pulled up (which btw bless your heart for tagging my questions omg). One of my uncles had a bright idea to wrap MY phone with your blog pulled up and the other one thought I could print out every message and just make it a book for him…I’ve never felt younger than during that conversation. So this is the best it’s gonna get. I will report back for his reaction. That is if he doesn’t strangle me first.

I LOVE EVERY DETAIL ABOUT THIS. YOUR FAMILY IS THE BEST!

I’m not going to say much because I know I have the message with reveal waiting for us (I haven’t read it to keep it as a sweet surprise for me and everyone).

I hope he likes the shirt… and the major surprise!

And I’m glad my obsessive tagging has helped ;)

[unaloquita]

Oh my god lalita u tried boba?? :0 i’m sorry cuz u didn’t like the tapioca pearls tho bejebdjehs they’re probably undercooked, they’re not supposed to be too chewy to the point it’s grueling to chew on i mean that would defeat the whole purpose of a boba drink, i suggest trying a different place maybe or making them at home! They’re quite easy to make and prepare but rolling the dough into balls takes ages X__X have you tried adding other types of toppings (?) on your boba? There’s coffee jelly and pandan jelly (i never tried it but it was an option i think) there’s also nata de coco :3 and popping pearls! Those are nice if you don’t mind them straight up bursting liquid into your mouth tjwheiwhe I remember choking when i first tried them lmaooo 😭 they’re good tho i always get the mango popping pearls!! Are there other flavors for the drinks in that boba place you went to? I usually get taro flavored milk tea or honeydew milk tea, i don’t prefer drinking regular milk tea cuz it can taste weird to me :P sometimes it’s too light sometimes too bitter it’s never just right so i just settle for the flavored options

KARMALITA!

Yes, I did try a boba milk tea. Under is the tea beverages page from the restaurant's paper printed menu. A few months ago, my mom took me to get sushi after a dental appointment I had. When we arrived at the site, I went ahead of my mom and entered the restaurant. As soon as I entered, I walked towards the middle-aged lady standing behind the cash register counter with my eyes locked on her. I stopped in my tracks on the tile floor. I stared. She stared back at me. Then I bursted into laughter. Then she laughed.

***

After I received my order of spider rolls, she handed me a menu. She told me, “You can keep it.” I said, “Thank you. I love you.” Then I walked out the store.

re (in response to): “have you tried adding other toppings (?) on your boba?”

I haven't tried yet! It's my first time buying one from a store. I would love to try egg pudding with the boba milk tea :B eggs come from chicken hen cloaca.

re (in response to): Are there other flavors for the drinks in that boba place you went to?

I took these photos while laying in bed :B yes, my mom is proud of me.

My order of a boba milk tea came with a lot of boba. I finished the tea before getting to the bubble/boba/tapioca pearls. I wanted to go with something basic (boba milk tea) because I get stressed looking at multiple options and unknown ingredients. Hmmn, black tea with milk mixed in and tapioca pearls; that's something that seems familiar. I genuinely liked the taste of the milk tea minus the boba. I would get it again and again and again.

[milla-frenchy]

I already screamed at you (affectionately 😌) but Odi wtfffffff 🤯🥵🫠

I was already in love with Javi (in case you didn't know already 🤭), you didn't have to do this and make things worse😂🤭 (please do it again 😌😌😌)

Javi is SO confident, so sexy, omg the way he dances, dead LORD

What a HOT fic 🫠🫠🫠

Javier danced his way onto the makeshift stage in front of your bestie, spinning his hat off and tossing it with a flourish into the crowd. Almost causing a fight between a few of the women to break out. His aviators followed, revealing deep, smoldering eyes that locked with yours for a moment too long.

Ok. I'm not proud of it, but maybe I would fight too 🤣🤣🤣

Your face burned as your gaze dipped lower, catching a glimpse of something even more scandalous. The tiny scrap of leopard print couldn’t quite contain him—on the sides, the curve of his balls was slipping free. You swallowed hard, your pulse fluttering as he shifted his weight, the motion only emphasizing how precariously the thong was holding itself together.

Jail, Odi. JAIL

Seriously wtf 🥵🥵🥵

Javier struck a pose, bracing his hands on his hips as he arched his back slightly, flexing for effect. He glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin, clearly relishing in the chaos he was causing. The lights caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, highlighting every curve and line of muscle, leaving no question as to just how perfect he was from every single angle.

Just so you know: I WAS HYPERVENTILATING READING THIS 🥵⚰️����

This man was a problem.

Yes. A big, broad, handsome problem 😂

His smirk widened. “Just great?” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—something dark and woodsy—mingling with the musky sheen of sweat on his skin. “Because you’ve been staring like you’re enjoying yourself a little more than tha?t.” You nearly choked on your drink. “I—I wasn’t—”

jfc he's such a menace

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice smooth but firm. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he waited for you to comply. Against your better judgment, you did.

omg. The tone 😍😍

“Relax,” he murmured as he noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of the chair. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

Odi you're such a menace too, I hope you know it 😂

You eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in this, did you?” He looked genuinely offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m hurt you’d even ask.”

I loved this, so much

You raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Curiosity, I guess. Wanted to see if you were as charming one-on-one as you are with a crowd.”   “And?”  You took a deliberate sip of your drink before answering. “Jury’s still out.”   He chuckled, “I’m not worried. I’m good under pressure.”  

I think "menace" is not even enough to describe him, actually lol

“Listen,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”   For the first time that night, you saw something unguarded in his expression—genuine sincerity that made your heart stutter.  You hesitated, your walls cracking under the weight of his words. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, but something in you shifted.  

HELL YEAH great job reader 😍😍😍 I just love when our seducer falls for someone 🫠

Aaaaaah what a HOT fic!! I love your Javi 😍😍😍

Strangers

Stripper!Javier Pena x f!reader // almost 9k

Time stands still and it's only us, what we feel started way before we ever touched... must be from a different life been here before and it just feels right

summary: you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

warnings: mdni, 18+, javi is a stripper, he wears a man thong and gets pretty close to stripping it all off in public, there's cock and balls, unprotected p in v, f!oral receiving, lap dances for days, reader has breasts, a dress, and hair that can fall around her face and is internally conflicted about this man and his leopard thong, javi has a pov in this too

notes: i really don't remember what sparked this but here we are... it's been like a month or more of me working on this. I thought I was done and then I heard a single song and it pushed me to write even more. This was supposed to be just a smutty fic and then got some depth and I was like wtf. Anyway on to the thank yous, thank you to the 5000 people I have screamed to about this, and a massive thank you to @thundermartini for listening to me go on and on about this guy for a long time and then reading it for me love you baby! A special mention to @gothcsz for the thong idea, @evolnoomym, @milla-frenchy and @sawymredfox for being so supportive of this idea to @joelslegalwhre for reading and @syd-djarin for the moodboard

masterlist

The music thumped so loudly it seemed to shake the floor, the kind of bass-heavy track that rumbled through your chest. Your best friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing, and the rented penthouse buzzed with laughter, shrieks, and a significant amount of tequila-fueled chaos. The party planners had spared no expense, from the towering stacks of champagne glasses to the flashy male entertainment just about to take the stage.

And then, he walked in.

You couldn’t ignore the way the room seemed to shift when he entered. The man—Javier, as the MC introduced him—had an undeniable presence. Dressed in a tight police officer uniform complete with aviators, a fake badge, hat, and handcuffs, he adjusted his badge with a grin that screamed trouble. His dark eyes surveyed the room with the kind of confidence that could only come from knowing he was the main event. 

Every woman in the room, including you, took notice.

While your friends ogled and whispered not-so-subtle comments, you tried—and failed—to keep your eyes elsewhere. He was gorgeous, sure, but this wasn’t your scene. Loud parties weren’t really your thing. 

The first performance was for the bride-to-be, of course. When the lights dimmed and the music shifted to something playfully seductive, the room erupted into cheers and Javier made his way to the bachelorette. 

“Ladies,” he announced, his voice smooth and teasing as he pulled a pair of fake handcuffs from his belt. “I hear there's a bride-to-be here who’s guilty of breaking hearts. I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in.”

Your best friend shrieked with laughter as he arrested her, securing one cuff around her wrist and helping her onto a nearby chair. The room buzzed with excitement as he began to dance, every move deliberate and designed to tease. 

You watched the scene unfold, biting your lip to stifle your laughter. He was undeniably good at what he did. But you couldn’t focus on the theatrics as much as everyone else seemed to. Your attention had zeroed in on him—his broad shoulders, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the effortless way he commanded every inch of the massive penthouse, the man was sex on legs. As he began to set up for the big finale, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

Javier danced his way onto the makeshift stage in front of your bestie, spinning his hat off and tossing it with a flourish into the crowd. Almost causing a fight between a few of the women to break out.

His aviators followed, revealing deep, smoldering eyes that locked with yours for a moment too long. He’s just playing to the crowd, he has to look at all the women right?

The bassline shifted to a slower, dirtier rhythm, and he rolled his shoulders back, his body falling into perfect sync with the beat.

Then came the shirt.

He gripped the edges, peeling it off slowly, revealing inch by inch of sun-kissed skin stretched over a perfectly sculpted chest and arms. When he finally tossed the shirt aside, the room erupted in cheers and whistles.

And yet, all you could do was stare and clench your thighs together. Why was this affecting you so much? It’s just a party. It’s just a guy. Get a grip. But no amount of inner scolding could make you look away. Something about this man pulled you in.

His chest glistened under the soft glow of the light, each bead of sweat tracing a slow, tantalizing path over the chiseled contours of his body. Your breath hitched, captivated by the sheer allure of him—the way every ridge of muscle stood out, accentuated as his hand drifted slowly down his torso. He moved with deliberate ease, fully aware of the spell he was weaving, and the teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips made it clear that he was savoring every second of all the attention he was receiving.

But it was when his fingers moved to rip off his belt that the real show began.

The collective energy in the room surged as Javier teasingly ran his hands down his sides, and in one swift, practiced motion, he reached for his waistband and yanked.

The rip-away pants came apart with a sharp, satisfying sound, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The noise, a mix of gasps, shrieks, and raucous laughter, echoed through the penthouse. But none of that registered as you stared at what had been revealed.

Javier stood unabashed and grinning in a leopard-print thong that left very little to the imagination. Every inch of his sculpted body was on display—toned legs, powerful thighs, and that tiny scrap of fabric barely holding itself together. The cut of the thong framed his hips perfectly, the deep lines of his V cutting down, drawing your eyes exactly where he wanted them to go. The thin fabric of the thong clung tightly to him, leaving the unmistakable outline of his cock on display, straining the limits of the material. Javier seemed completely unbothered by how much was on show.

Your face burned as your gaze dipped lower, catching a glimpse of something even more scandalous. The tiny scrap of leopard print couldn’t quite contain him—on the sides, the curve of his balls was slipping free. You swallowed hard, your pulse fluttering as he shifted his weight, the motion only emphasizing how precariously the thong was holding itself together.

The room exploded excitedly, women fanning themselves, throwing bills, and shouting over one another. But you could barely breathe.

And then, just when you thought the spectacle couldn’t get any more outrageous, Javier turned around with a deliberate, teasing spin, giving the room an uninterrupted view of his backside.

The thong was practically nonexistent, the thin fabric disappearing completely between the firm, sculpted curves of his ass. His glistening, muscular cheeks were on full display, round and perfectly defined, drawing another deafening eruption of cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Javier struck a pose, bracing his hands on his hips as he arched his back slightly, flexing for effect. He glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin, clearly relishing in the chaos he was causing. The lights caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, highlighting every curve and line of muscle, leaving no question as to just how perfect he was from every single angle.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your breath hitched and your pulse pounded so loudly in your ears it almost drowned out the music. Heat flushed through your body as your gaze lingered shamelessly on his backside, every inch of him a deliberate invitation.

After what felt like a torturous eternity, Javier turned back toward the crowd, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he surveyed everyone's reactions.

He strutted forward, running his hands up his torso and tossing a playful wink to the bride-to-be, who was practically falling out of her chair from laughter and shock. But his gaze kept flicking to you.

Your cheeks burned as he moved closer, spinning on his heel to give the audience another view. His movements were fluid and sensual, every roll of his hips and flex of his body perfectly in time with the music. When he leaned down to grab the bride’s hands to feel up his torso, his back arched in a way that emphasized the curve of his ass, and you bit your lip without thinking.

This man was a problem.

When he finally ended the dance with a flourish—dropping to his knees in front of the bride-to-be before flawlessly almost jumping back up to a standing position—the applause was deafening.

Javier laughed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He took a playful bow, blowing a kiss to the bride-to-be before gathering his discarded pants and shirt. His bare torso glistened under the soft glow of the party lights, and the lingering smirk on his lips suggested he knew he had the entire room wrapped around his finger.

The girls were still cheering and clapping, their voices a mix of exhilaration and tipsy enthusiasm. But while the others were caught up in the wild energy of the moment, you felt a strange tightness in your chest, like the room had closed in around you.

You weren’t used to reacting this way to someone, and it unnerved you. The heat creeping up your neck was impossible to ignore, and no amount of pretending to be distracted by your drink could hide the fact that your eyes kept darting back to him.

And he noticed—like a magnet—his eyes locked onto yours.

Your stomach flipped.

For a split second, everything else faded; the noise, the laughter, even your own internal protests to look away. It was just him, standing there, looking at you with that maddening confidence.

Then he moved.

Javier began to dance again, hips rolling in slow, hypnotic circles to the bass-heavy beat. The fabric of the thong strained with every motion, but he didn’t shy away. If anything, he seemed to lean into it—one hand trailing down his torso to brush along the waistband, teasing as if he might remove it completely.

Your pulse fluttered wildly as he worked the crowd, making his way closer, dancing toward you.

Your breath caught as you tried to focus on literally anything else—your drink, the flickering candles on the table, the way your best friend was still howling with laughter. But there was no escaping the fact that Javier was now standing right in front of you, every inch of him radiating heat and presence.

“Having fun?” he asked.

You blinked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. It’s been… something.” Your voice wavered, betraying how flustered you felt. Something? Really? That was the best you could come up with? You scrambled for words, your brain short-circuiting. “I mean—great. It’s been great.”

Smooth.

His smirk widened. “Just great?” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—something dark and woodsy—mingling with the musky sheen of sweat on his skin. “Because you’ve been staring like you’re enjoying yourself a little more than tha?t.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” he teased, his grin softening into something warmer, more inviting. “I’m just messing with you. Now come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Let me make your night.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied, though your cheeks burned with the effort of maintaining composure. You crossed your arms to emphasize your refusal, but Javier didn’t look the least bit discouraged.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re good. Not yet, anyway.” He leaned closer, his voice just for you now. “But I’m more than happy to change that.”

Despite your best efforts, the laughter bubbling up from your chest betrayed you. He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. But when you refused—again—he didn’t press. Instead, he winked, gave an exaggerated shrug, and moved on to another guest, leaving you strangely disappointed.

————

Later, after the performances ended and the room was quieter, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the back corner of the room scrolling idly on your phone, trying to drown out your lingering thoughts about him. A few drinks had loosened your resolve. You noticed a stack of glossy business cards on the table where he had tossed his hat earlier. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked one up.

The card was sleek, black with gold lettering. At the top, in bold, elegant lettering, it read:

Elite Heat’s Javier Peña

To the left, there was a neatly organized list; a phone number, a Facebook link, which you immediately ignored, and a website address. But it was the bottom that made your breath hitch.

On top of a gold banner, the words Elite Heat: “The Best Sex Therapy” were printed in bold, confident lettering. 

To the right was a photo of Javier himself.

It wasn’t a professional headshot - far from it. It was one of those casual yet devastatingly attractive pictures that looked effortless but likely required perfect lighting and timing. He wore a grey long-sleeve shirt that framed his broad chest perfectly, the top buttons undone just enough to tease without giving away too much. His hand, however, made it impossible not to stare—casually slipping beneath the fabric, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his defined abs. The way the light hit his skin added a subtle sheen, making the whole image feel like a deliberate invitation.

For a moment, you just stared at the card. The combination of professional polish and brazen confidence made your stomach twist in a way that annoyed you.

“The best sex therapy, huh?” you muttered to yourself, raising an eyebrow at the audacity.

Curiosity got the better of you. You grabbed your phone and typed “Javier Peña” into Instagram. After scrolling through a few accounts that clearly weren’t him, you found the right one.

The profile itself was… an experience.

Picture after picture of Javier dominated the feed—some in his infamous uniform, others in casual attire, and far too many shirtless to be accidental. Every post was a masterclass in confident allure, and his captions were just as bold.

The comments were what really got to you, though. Endless lines of hearts, fire emojis, and thirsty declarations filled each post.

“Find something you like?”

His voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your phone. You looked up to see Javier standing in front of you, his shirt slung casually over his shoulder and he was wearing his uniform pants again. How long had he been there?

“I was just…” You trailed off, trying to think of a plausible excuse for stalking him online. His smirk told you he wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in closer than necessary. “You can follow me. Might even follow you back.”

“I’m not interested,” you replied, though the conviction in your voice wavered as he placed a hand on the back of your chair, caging you in.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, one dance. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone. But if you like it… well, you can give me your number when it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling faster than you wanted to admit. After all, what was the harm in one dance?

Javier’s confidence was infuriatingly contagious, and your curiosity was louder than the protests in your head. You nodded if only to prove to yourself that he wouldn’t get under your skin. A small, victorious smile curved his lips as he straightened, offering his hand. “Good choice.”

He didn’t give you much time to second-guess as he guided you to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the penthouse. Some of your friends hooted and hollered, clearly thrilled to see you in the spotlight. You, however, were hyper-aware of every step as Javier led you to a chair he had conveniently placed in the center of the room.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice smooth but firm. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he waited for you to comply. Against your better judgment, you did.

The music shifted to something slower and sultrier. Javier grabbed his shirt from his shoulder, tossing it onto the floor. The movement was casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his toned chest and large arms drew every pair of eyes in the room. Including yours.

He stalked closer, and suddenly it felt like the room had disappeared. Just you, the chair, and the dangerously attractive man who seemed to thrive on the tension hanging in the air.

“Relax,” he murmured as he noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of the chair. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

Before you could reply, he began to move.

It wasn’t the kind of dance you expected. Yes, it was provocative—every roll of his hips and glide of his body was designed to tease—but there was something more deliberate about it. He kept his gaze locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands didn’t touch you—not yet. Instead, they skimmed close enough to make you ache for the contact, only for him to pull away at the last moment.

He straddled the chair, his thighs framing yours as he dipped low, his chest hovering just inches from your face. His scent filled your senses, and your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re even more beautiful up close,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he could see the effect he had on you.

Javier straightened, his hands gripping the chair on either side of you as he moved his hips in a way that felt borderline illegal. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him, but he still didn’t touch. The lack of contact was maddening, and the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The song ended too quickly, and he stepped back, leaving you feeling both relieved and oddly bereft. Your friends erupted into cheers and applause, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on Javier as he extended a hand, helping you out of the chair.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he’d gotten to you. “It was… okay.”

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent another shiver through you. “Just okay, huh? I’ll have to work on that.”

Before you could respond, he winked and disappeared back into the crowd.

——

An hour later, the party was winding down. The penthouse was quieter, and most of your friends had migrated to the couches or left altogether. You were nursing your last drink of the night when Javier appeared again, a shot glass in each hand.

“For you,” he said, offering one with an easy smile.

You eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in this, did you?”

He looked genuinely offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m hurt you’d even ask.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, leaning in closer. “I did put something in it.”

You froze, and he smirked, finishing his sentence with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “It’s called tequila.”

Your laugh surprised even you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, clinking his glass against yours. “Now drink up.”

Against your better judgment, you downed the shot, the burn of the tequila grounding you for a moment.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, how about that number?”

Javier’s smile didn’t waver as he set his empty shot glass on the table. “Still hesitant, huh?” he asked, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “I don’t make it a habit to give my number to strangers, especially ones who…” You gestured vaguely to his naked chest and the police hat perched crookedly on his head. “...do what you do.”

“Fair enough,” he said, the teasing edge in his voice softening. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “At least let me follow you on Instagram..”

You stared at the phone, then at him. The sincerity in his tone threw you off balance, and the way his dark eyes searched yours made it hard to hold onto your skepticism. Against your better judgment—again—you took the phone and followed your account.

“Here,” you said, handing it back after following him.

Javier glanced at the screen, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the night with the same confidence that had drawn every eye in the room earlier.

Javi 

Javier leaned against the balcony railing outside the penthouse lighting a cigarette, the cool night air doing little to temper the heat still coursing through him. The party was still going inside, but his thoughts had drifted elsewhere—to you. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at himself. He’d performed for hundreds of women, charmed his way through countless parties, but tonight felt… different.  

You’d thrown him off balance in a way he wasn’t used to.  

Sure, you’d laughed at his jokes and taken the shot he offered, but there was something in your eyes—an intoxicating mix of curiosity and resistance—that had him hooked. He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you tried to keep your guard up even as he chipped away at it. Maybe it was the way you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, like you couldn’t quite help yourself.  

Or maybe it was the way he couldn’t stop replaying that moment on the dance floor in his head. The way your breath hitched when he leaned in. The way your lips parted, as though you were holding back words—or something else entirely.  

The music from the party shifted the song echoing in the distance. Javier’s mind wandered as the melody pulled him into his own thoughts. It wasn’t just lust that gnawed at him—though, hell, that was definitely part of it. No, this was something deeper, something that felt unsettlingly like longing.  

He ran a hand through his hair, the grin he’d worn all night slipping away. He’d never been one for complications, especially when it came to women. His job was to entertain, to tease, to flirt—but he’d never felt this kind of pull before. It was like a spark had ignited when he locked eyes with you, and now it wouldn’t go out.  

For the first time in a long while, Javier wasn’t sure if he was in control.  

The lyrics to the song playing in the penthouse hit him square in the chest.  

Must be from a different life, been here before, and it just feels right. No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers.

The words struck a chord, leaving him standing there, staring out at the city lights, wondering how a single dance, a single moment, could unravel him so completely.  

It's like it's driving me closer to you, every step back pulls me right back to you…

Maybe you wouldn’t give him your number. Maybe this would end here, tonight, like all the other nights before. But as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened Instagram, his thumb hovering over your profile, he couldn’t help but think—this didn’t feel like an ending.  

It felt like the beginning of something he wasn’t ready to let go of.  

———

Back in your hotel room, you flopped onto the plush bed with a groan. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, Javier’s smirk and the heat of his gaze lingering longer than you cared to admit.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone. A quick check of Instagram confirmed what you suspected—he’d already followed and sent you a message.

Javier: See? Now we’re not strangers anymore.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. His confidence was irritatingly endearing.

You: I don’t think Instagram follows count as a formal introduction.

His reply was almost instant.

Javier: What would count? Because I’m pretty sure that dance was more personal than most first dates.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You: Is this your usual routine? Flirt with everyone at the party, then slide into DMs?

Javier: Nope. Just you.

You stared at the screen, your stomach doing an annoying little flip at his words.

You: Why me?

The typing indicator blinked for a moment before his reply came through.

Javier: Because you didn’t throw yourself at me like everyone else. And because you’re cute when you’re pretending not to be interested.

Your cheeks burned as you read the message, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You: I’m not pretending.

Javier: So you are interested?

You: I didn’t say that.

Javier: But you didn’t deny it, either.

You sighed, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You: Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?

Javier: Nope. Not tonight.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, another message popped up.

Javier: You could come over, you know. Save us both the trouble of texting all night.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, and you hesitated, typing and deleting a dozen responses before settling on one.

You: Not happening.

Javier: Why not?

You: Because it’s late, and I’m not that kind of girl.

Javier: What kind of girl is that?

You: The kind that sneaks into a stranger’s room after one tequila shot and a few texts.

Javier: I’m not exactly a stranger anymore.

You stared at his message, your lips twitching at the boldness. Before you could type out another response, your phone buzzed with a notification. It was a photo. From Javier.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the image preview before finally opening it. The picture was simple yet devastatingly effective: Javier, shirtless, sprawled on a hotel bed, the faint light casting shadows that only emphasized his toned chest. His dark eyes smoldered into the camera, and his messy hair added to the whole “devil-may-care” aesthetic he wore so well.

Javier: Feeling really lonely over here. Could use some company.

Heat pooled low in your belly and you groaned, tossing your phone onto the bed as if distance could break the spell he seemed to have on you. But of course, curiosity won out, and you grabbed it again, typing out a response before you could second-guess yourself.

You: Flattery and thirst traps won’t work on me.

Javier: Who said it was flattery? Just being honest.

You: Still not happening.

Javier: Okay, how about a compromise?

You: What kind of compromise?

Javier: Drinks. Just the two of us. Down at the hotel bar. Public place, no pressure.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Saying yes felt like walking into a trap, but a part of you was curious—and maybe, just maybe, a little tempted. The idea of sitting across from him, away from the crowd, felt… different. Safer. Almost.

You: Fine. One drink.

Javier: I’ll take it. Meet you there in ten?

You: Fifteen. I need to change.

Javier: You don’t have to change for me, sweetheart. You already look perfect.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you tossed your phone onto the bed and rifled through your suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding with anticipation and nerves as you descended to the hotel bar.

The bar was dimly lit, with warm amber hues reflecting off the polished surfaces. The low hum of conversation mingled with the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere both intimate and unassuming. You spotted Javier immediately.  

He sat at a corner table, leaning back in his chair. He’d changed into a simple black button-down that clung to his frame in a way that was almost unfair. His gaze locked onto you the moment you entered.  

“Right on time,” he said, standing as you reached the table. He pulled out a chair for you, a small but unexpected gesture that caught you off guard.  

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, settling into the seat.  

“Noted.” His smile widened as he slid into the chair opposite you.  

The server appeared almost instantly, and Javier gestured for you to order first. You requested a simple cocktail, while he opted for whiskey on the rocks. As the server walked away, his attention returned to you and it wasn’t long before they returned with them.

“So,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “What convinced you to come down here?”  

You raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Curiosity, I guess. Wanted to see if you were as charming one-on-one as you are with a crowd.”  

“And?” 

You took a deliberate sip of your drink before answering. “Jury’s still out.”  

He chuckled, “I’m not worried. I’m good under pressure.”  

The banter came easily, the conversation flowing in a way that surprised you. He was quick-witted, teasing without being overbearing, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was easy to talk to, it felt like knew him without knowing him. The more you spoke, the more you caught glimpses of the man behind the cocky facade—sharp, observant, and surprisingly thoughtful.  

Still, you made him work for it.  

Whenever his compliments grew too bold, you deflected with a teasing remark. When he leaned in a little too close, you leaned back, though you couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you each time he tested your resolve.  

“I like this game you’re playing,” he said after a while, his whiskey glass nearly empty.  

“What game?” you asked innocently.  

“The one where you pretend you’re not interested.” His gaze was unwavering, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.  

“I’m not pretending,” you replied, though the words sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.  

He tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “No? Then why are you still here?”  

You opened your mouth to respond, but the truth caught in your throat. Why were you still here?  

Before you could come up with an excuse, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.  

“Listen,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”  

For the first time that night, you saw something unguarded in his expression—genuine sincerity that made your heart stutter.  You hesitated, your walls cracking under the weight of his words. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, but something in you shifted.  

“Okay,” you said quietly.  

His brow lifted. “Okay, what?”  

“Okay… you’re not completely unbearable.”  

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “High praise.”  

“You know, I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

His smirk softened into something gentler, his fingers still lightly brushing yours on the table. “Not everything has to be a good idea to be worth it, sweetheart,” he said.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Is that your life philosophy, or just your way of convincing women to give you their number?”

“Both,” he said with a shrug, his grin returning. “And it’s worked out pretty well so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension between you eased slightly. The conversation shifted after that, the teasing banter giving way to something more genuine. He asked about your life, your work, your dreams—and for every question he asked, he shared something about himself, too. 

“I wasn’t always this guy,” he admitted at one point, swirling the remnants of his whiskey in his glass. “I used to be a cop. A real one. Back in Colombia.”

You blinked, surprised. “A cop? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. DEA, actually.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What made you leave?”

His expression darkened briefly, a shadow crossing his features. “Let’s just say… the job took its toll. And I realized I wanted something different. Something lighter.” He glanced at you then, a hint of humor returning to his voice. “Though I’m not sure stripping is what my father had in mind when I told him I was switching careers.”

The two of you laughed, and the conversation continued to flow. By the time your drinks were empty, you realized you were leaning forward, hanging onto his every word.

Javier glanced at the time on his phone and then back at you. “I hate to say it, but the bar’s closing soon.”

You nodded, a strange mix of disappointment and relief settling over you. “Guess I should head back to my room.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Can I walk you to your door?”

Your pulse quickened at the question, but you nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you rode the elevator in silence, the charged tension between you filling the small space. When you reached your floor, he stepped out with you, his presence at your side was both comforting and exhilarating.

When you finally stopped outside your door, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Well… this is me.”

“Home sweet hotel,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense.

You fiddled with your key card, unsure of what to say. He didn’t push, didn’t try to move closer. Instead, he simply smiled.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You swallowed hard, his words sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the tequila. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with unspoken possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant at first—a test to see if this was really what you wanted. But the moment his lips moved against yours, everything else fell away. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and steady as he deepened the kiss. 

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” you replied.

His smile was slow, almost lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. I just might take you up on that.” 

As Javier lingered, you found yourself hesitating. The way he kissed you had ignited something within you—something raw.

You opened your door but didn’t step inside, glancing back at him. "Well, you coming?”

He arched a brow, that teasing smirk returning. “You sure?”

You laughed softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Javier followed you inside. The dim light of the room cast shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he studied you.

“So,” he drawled, his tone playful but low. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think you know Javier.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers lightly grabbing your wrist. He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed and his voice dropped an octave. “If we’re doing this, I’m in control, ¿entiendes?”

You nodded, and it must have been obvious how nervous you were.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands brushing your knees as he stepped between them. “This is supposed to be fun.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Do me a favor,” he whispered. “Touch yourself. Just a little.”

Your eyes widened, your pulse skyrocketing. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

When you hesitated, his hand trailed up your thigh, his touch light but maddening. “Go on beautiful,” he urged. “Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing to your cheeks and pooling low in your belly. Javier leaned back slightly, giving you space but never breaking eye contact. His gaze was dark, commanding, and utterly unapologetic. He wanted this. Wanted you vulnerable, open, and completely at his mercy. 

You hesitated, your heart pounding like a drum, but the way his fingers skimmed over your thigh made it impossible to think straight. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, his voice coaxing yet dripping with authority. “I want to see every bit of you, mi amor.”

Your hand trembled as it moved to the hem of your dress. Slowly, you slid it higher, exposing more of your thighs to his burning gaze. He walked back and pulled up a chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, but his eyes never wavered from you. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The praise sent a shiver through your body. You could feel your arousal building, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.  

Your breath shuddered as your fingers brushed the fabric of your panties, the dampness betraying just how much his presence, his words, his command, had affected you. You glanced at him, unsure, but his gaze was steady, his jaw tight, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race. 

Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the fabric, the first tentative touch drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. Javier's expression darkened with hunger, his composure unraveling ever so slightly as he leaned forward. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me see how beautiful you are when you can’t hold back.”

Your fingers began to move in slow circles, your body responding to your touch almost instinctively. The heat between your thighs grew, and your hips shifted slightly, seeking more pressure. The room seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of your movements. 

Javier's eyes never left you. His own restraint was evident in the way his fists clenched, the way his chest rose and fell a little too fast. “I want to hear you. Don’t hold back from me.”

You whimpered, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent as you lost yourself in the moment. Every sound you made, every twitch of your body, seemed to light a fire in him. His control was slipping, and it was intoxicating to know that you were the one unraveling him. 

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Keep going, just like that.”

Javier’s gaze burned into you, the tension in his jaw betraying how tightly he was holding himself back. But then, he shifted, his hands moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing the golden skin of his chest. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if daring you to keep watching even as your own hand continued its rhythm. 

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding, the sound vibrating through you. His shirt slid off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor. Then, his hands moved to his belt, the metallic clink making your breath hitch. He undid it in a single, fluid motion, the sound of the zipper following shortly after. 

Your fingers faltered for a moment, your breath catching as your focus shifted entirely to him. He stood before you, stripped of all pretense, his movements deliberate and sure. When he pushed his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your gaze locked onto him, and your thoughts scattered.

He was breathtaking. The sharp angles of his hips, the sculpted planes of his abdomen, the sheer strength of his frame—it was as if he had been carved just for you. Heat coiled low in your belly, a visceral reaction to the undeniable evidence of his desire for you.

Your eyes traveled over him, lingering shamelessly, drinking in every inch of him. His dark eyes burned into yours, filled with a heat that left you both vulnerable and electrified.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze despite still being partially clothed. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing he could see—made your pulse race and your chest tighten with need.

The air between you crackled with an unspoken hunger, and you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide how deeply he affected you.

His hand wrapped around his shaft, a groan slipping from his lips as he began to stroke slowly, matching the rhythm you’d set for yourself. “Look at me,” he said. “Don’t hide from me, nena.”

The sight of him, so confident, so completely at ease with his own pleasure, made your own need intensify. Your movements quickened, your body arching slightly as the tension in your core built. His gaze flickered over you, drinking in every shiver, every gasp, every movement of your hand.

“Dios mío,” he murmured, his strokes becoming faster as he watched you. “You’re so beautiful like this. I could watch you forever.” 

Javier’s hand stilled suddenly, and you watched as he got up, his body exuding confidence and unrelenting command. He stepped closer, towering over you where you sat, his dark eyes still heavy with desire. He leaned down, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his voice a seductive rasp as he said, “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing, unsure of what he was asking. But he took your hand, pulling you gently to your feet, and his lips brushed your ear. “I want you to dance for me. Just for me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. The idea made your pulse race, the vulnerability and intimacy of it all was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His hands moved to your waist, steadying you. “Yes, you can, you’re perfect.”

His words wrapped around you, melting your hesitation. Slowly, you began to sway, your movements tentative at first, but his gaze never wavered, filled with encouragement and raw need. 

Your fingers found the hem of your dress, and you began to lift it, inch by inch, exposing your skin. His eyes tracked every motion, his breaths deep and heavy, fueling your confidence. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you in your underwear. You turned away from him, your fingers trembling as you unclasped your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders before finally slipping out of your panties. 

“Fuck, you are so beautfiul.”

You felt the power in his words, the way they stoked your courage and your desire. With each slow sway of your hips, you inched closer to him, the magnetic pull between you was impossible to resist. His heated gaze anchored you, igniting a fire that coursed through your veins.

You ran your hands down your body, over your curves, letting him watch as you closed the distance. His chest heaved as you straddled him and the tip of his cock brushed against your core, you froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. 

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Just like that. Take your time, baby. Feel every second of it.

“Javi,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I don’t know if I—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His touch was firm, guiding but never forcing. “You’ve got this, baby. Dance for me—on me. Take your time.”

The raw hunger in his voice undid you. He guided your movements as you began to grind against him, slow and sensual. Your body aligned with his as you slid against him, teasing him with every slow grind. His head fell back against the chair, his jaw clenched as he groaned your name. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip, encouraging your movements. “Just like that. Feel me, nena. Let me feel all of you.”

Slowly, deliberately, you adjusted, letting your slick pussy tease the length of him. The anticipation was maddening, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, his restraint barely holding. Then, with a deep breath, you angled yourself just right and began to lower yourself onto his length.

The sensation stole your breath as you took him inch by inch, your body adjusting to his size. His growl of pleasure rumbled through you, his hands guiding you down until you were completely seated. The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming and it felt so good.

“Now move, baby,” he urged, his voice strained. “Show me how good you can make us feel.”

You began to roll your hips, your movements slow and deliberate as you rode him, your bodies perfectly in sync. The connection between you felt electric, every thrust and grind drawing you closer together. His hands explored your body, his lips tracing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone as you moved, his murmured praises driving you to the brink.

Each undulation of your hips sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, and as you rode him, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you tangled in passion and ecstasy.

The sensation made you both gasp, his hands tightening on your hips as you began to move. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Ride me. Just like that.” 

The tension coiled tighter with every roll of your hips, the friction building to a fever pitch as Javier groaned your name like a prayer. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements, his thumbs pressing bruising circles into your skin as if to anchor himself. The entire time his gaze stayed locked on yours, dark and intense, as if he wanted to memorize the way you looked in this moment—completely undone above him.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “You feel so damn good.”

The words lit you up, your pace quickening as you chased the edge, that blinding release that teased just out of reach. Your breaths mingled with his, sharp and ragged, the room heavy with the sound of skin meeting skin and the delicious symphony of your pleasure.

“Javi,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Something in his voice broke you, the sincerity laced with desire, the unshakable promise that he wouldn’t let you fall. Your body tensed, your movements stuttering as the first shockwaves of pleasure crashed through you, and you cried out his name as you shattered around him.

Javier didn’t falter. He held you steady, his grip firm as he ground his hips up to meet yours, pulling you through the aftershocks until you were trembling in his arms. The intensity of it left you breathless, and you slumped forward, resting your forehead against his as you tried to gather yourself.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice still thick with need, though his concern for you was evident.

You nodded, chest heaving as you caught your breath. “Yeah,” you whispered. 

“Your turn to relax. I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he stood. A soft squeak escaped you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried you across the room.

“Javi, I can walk,” you protested weakly, though you made no effort to pull away.

“I know you can,” he teased, “but I like having you right where you are.”

The bed was cool against your back when he laid you down, but his body quickly chased away the chill. Javier followed you down, his weight settling between your thighs.

“Now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as his gaze softened. “Where were we?”

Javier’s lips captured yours in a kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every second, and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of heat as he paused to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. His hands explored you, tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips before sliding lower. Every touch sent shivers through you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasps escaping your lips.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin. “Every inch of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your body aching for more. “Javi, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He chuckled softly. “Patience, sweetheart. You just taste so good.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your body arching involuntarily. “Javier, I need… I need you.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re so beautiful like this. All mine.”

As his lips moved lower, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, his hands spreading you gently. The anticipation made your body tremble, your legs parting instinctively as you felt him pause, his breath hot against your core.

“Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before he leaned in.

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he worked you with slow movements. Javier groaned softly, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you open, the sound vibrating through you and heightening the pleasure.

Your hips bucked against him, and you gasped, “Javi, please, I’m so close.”

He lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening as he smirked at you. “I love hearing you beg for me, come on let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

His tongue and suddenly his fingers moved together in perfect rhythm, lapping, sucking and moving just right. The tension in your belly coiled tighter until it snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves that left you trembling. Javier didn’t stop until your body softened beneath his touch, his movements slowing as he kissed your thighs and worked his way back up your body.

By the time he reached your lips, you were breathless, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

“How was that beautiful?” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

“Incredible,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw.

Javier groaned softly at your touch, his restraint visibly fraying. He kissed you harder, his body pressing into yours as his arousal became impossible to ignore. “You sure you’re ready for more?” 

You answered by rolling your hips against him, earning a sharp inhale as he gritted his teeth. “I need you, Javi. Please fuck me.”

That was all it took. He positioned himself, his gaze locked on yours as he pushed into you in one slow, steady motion. The stretch was intense, and you gasped, clinging to him as your body adjusted.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good, so damn tight.”

“Move..please,” you urged softly, your lips brushing his ear.

He obeyed, pulling back before thrusting in again, setting a rhythm that was slow but deep. Every movement drew you closer until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

His hand slid between you, his thumb finding your most sensitive spot, teasing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re taking me so well.”

Your nails raked down his back, the pleasure building impossibly fast. “Javier,” you whimpered, your body tightening around him as the tension reached its breaking point.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “Come for me, give me one more.”

His words were your undoing. You shattered around him, your cries filling the room as pleasure consumed you. Javier followed moments later, his movements faltering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping him as he found his release.

For a while, neither of you moved, the room quiet except for the sound of your ragged breaths. Eventually, Javier rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender.

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re not so innocent yourself, Javier.”

His smirk returned. “Get some rest, baby,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over you both. “You’ll need it for round two.”

[scoriol]

slightly late but 25 things i learned at 25!

1. hang in there because it really DOES get better (even if it takes 2 years)

2. i’m now paranoid 2025 won’t be nearly as great as 2024

3. i can start from scratch and i can build a bigger, better life

4. strangers like you more when you have money; friends like you less

5. no more housemates. like ever. unless it’s francis/andrew

6. my brother has to do better than i will

7. my best purchase of 2024 was my ADHD diagnosis and medication

8. an owala water bottle makes drinking 1.5l of water daily 10x a lot easier

9. minimalism is the WORST trend! choose colour, print, pattern, texture every time

10. i’ve been made to doubt myself for cutting off people/ being “unable to maintain friendships” when the reality is most people continue being friends with people they don’t like, let alone trust. i should never feel shame for being genuine and deciding to do away with a friendship i don’t feel positively towards

11. it’s ok to be excited about things!!! i never grew up with the type of money i have now and if i want to be excited walking out of cartier, i can be! this whole quiet luxury nonsense is bullshit.

12. you can take your time but you can’t afford to waste it

13. i don’t really smoke unless i’m in a foreign country and the time apart made me realise that i’m kinda over ouid. it just makes me binge eat and feel like shit after so i actually think i’m done

14. jumping from one social class to another isn’t solely a product of hard work, it requires a great amount of luck and i’d go so far as to say divine intervention. so always stay humble and grateful because i was never owed this life.

15. i don’t think i like pasta anymore??? ironically the best meal(s) i had this year was the lobster pasta and foie gras pasta in milan

16. fitness/health this year was SO much better and definitely something to be proud of. started out the new year v weak but once im back i need to keep it up and work on consistency

17. taylor, tortured poets, the eras tour!! magic!!! real pure magic!!!

18. moving back home was the best thing i did for myself

19. i miss london, i’ll always miss london and i’ll always love london. i don’t know that i’ll ever move back but if i do it’ll be on my terms

20. imitation isn’t flattery it actually is very very annoying

21. the boy at 16 finally doesn’t matter

22. you can never have enough heels!!!

23. i think paul might’ve been my best friend this year.

24. i’ve managed to grow a lot as a person in the last 3 years. i have insecurities but im not insecure, im confident, im content and i make smart decisions. i know that i owe a lot of this to ritik. find someone that allows you to make mistakes without keeping score

25. all i can do is try. my only goal for this year is to just try and give everything a 100%.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

daddy is my #1 fan

pairing: re6! leon x reader

cw: ddlg, pacifier use, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex toys

summary: reader is a camgirl and her biggest fan is leon. they meet up at a hotel and have a fun and sexy time

a/n: this is a commission from an anonymous commissioner

wc: 3.1k

You started this gig in a moment of crisis. You’d just gotten laid off and didn’t know how else to come up with rent for that month. Plus, you’d seen the way men stare at you. You might as well use it to your advantage. Initially, you kept your face out of the frame, but the main attraction was still on full-display. It’s a good thing you already had a fair amount of plushies piling up on your bed and quite the collection of cute panties. DDLG had been a secret fantasy of yours for quite some time, but you’d never gotten the guts to bring it up to any of your previous partners. Good thing guys on the internet were totally into it.

You wore a schoolgirl skirt and a pair of pink cotton panties underneath. The skirt was for a Britney Spears Halloween costume, but you advertised it as a “Catholic school uniform”. The Catholic schoolgirl persona made you look even more innocent and girlish than you did when you slipped off your panties with Sanrio characters printed on them and began to grind on your pink frilly pillow.

Some of the usernames in the chat became familiar to you, though you referred to everyone as ‘daddy’ regardless of their handle. The money started rolling in and you were able to buy a vibrator that could be controlled by the paying chatters.

You also received gifts in the mail that you used on camera – sex toys, panties, and pacifiers. You ended up having to show your face with those, but it was worth it to see messages started flooding in, telling you how cute your expression was when you came.

There was one user in particular who donated a lot of money. You had set prices for access to your photos and live streams but he always tipped extra. Once, you were planning to stop the stream when he told you he’d send 300 dollars if you joined a private session with him and came one more time.

“Daddy, I can’t. I’m too sensitive,” you whined.

“I know you can, baby girl. You’ve been doing so well for me tonight,” he typed in the chat.

“Okay, daddy, only for you,” you said, the notification for a donation popped up on your screen. You could be mean and stop the stream, taking the money and using it to buy yourself a nice dinner, but you desperately wanted him to call you a good girl.

It was worth pushing through the over-stimulation to receive a private message with the words, “Daddy’s so proud of you,” along with an extra $100.

Some men could be kind of gross, but this man, whose name you’d had yet to find out, was so kind to you – just like a daddy should be. It seemed like he genuinely cared. He regularly booked private sessions with you and not only did he give you constant praise and encouragement, he would ask how your day was and listen to you talk about anything your mind conjured up. You tried to apologize to him once for wasting his paid time by talking about your life, but he told you he loved hearing your thoughts almost as much as he loved seeing you cum. You gave him an extra orgasm that night as a thank you.

So, when he messaged you with an interesting proposal, it was even more enticing to you.

“Any chance you’d want to meet up in person? I’d pay 1500, half in advance.”

Holy shit. He could very well be a serial killer, but 1500 dollars would be an entire month's rent. Plus, he was going to pay half in advance. Would a serial killer really pay 750 dollars to score a cute victim? You sure hoped not because you were going to meet that man.

You tried not to be shallow but you worried that he might be ugly. Why else would he be paying for sex? You could technically send the money back and bail out if he turned out to be completely disgusting. The fact that he offered to meet at the Ritz Carlton, and not a Motel 6, was your first clue that he wasn’t a total sleazebag.

He knew your face, but you didn’t know his, so you had to wait anxiously in the lobby for him to arrive. You wore your best dress and put your hair up in cute pigtails with a bow tied onto each one. You arrived on time, and began to worry that the mystery man wasn’t coming. A man—hot, mid-30s, you’d guess—smiled at you from across the lobby and you were instantly hit with a wave of disappointment at the fact that you couldn't flirt with him. You had to wait for your man to arrive.

But then, he started walking towards you. A little flirting couldn’t hurt, right? Especially since the other guy was late. He’d understand that you’re just too cute for other men to resist.

When he was within earshot, he said, “Hey, sweet girl.” It was just a coincidence, you assumed. He surely couldn’t be referencing your username. Or maybe he was another fan, maybe you were getting really popular. It only hit you when he said “Ready to go up to our room?” and flashed you a room key.

“You’re ‘agentdaddy’?” You only knew his screen name, which you came to find out was a reference to his real occupation as a government agent. Agent Leon Kennedy — a nice name, but you’d rather call him ‘Daddy’.

“Do I look different than you expected I would?”

“No offense, but I didn’t think you’d be so… hot.” You must’ve been starry-eyed. You hoped it made you look adorable rather than stupid.

“I’m far from offended that you think I’m attractive. I was worried it was the other way around.” He held out his hand and you took it. He led you towards the elevator.

“I’m just surprised that someone like you is paying for someone like me.” You made sure not to let him know that you’d let him have you for free.

“You’re too cute, baby,” he said, while pinching your cheeks which flushed bright pink at the gesture.

He leaned down and gave you the softest, sweetest kiss when you were in the empty elevator. When the elevator stopped at the floor you were staying on, you held out your palm, asking Leon to take it. He happily walked hand-in-hand with you to your hotel room.

When he opened the door, you barely had time to marvel at the gorgeous room because he was already kissing you, and his lips were so soft you could get lost in the feeling of them against yours. Thinking about what else he could do with his mouth made you feel dizzy. Good thing he was getting ready to pick you up and place you on the king-sized bed.

He drank in the sight of you, not hungry or animalistic—he didn’t want to devour you, he wanted to dote on you, to take his time with you.

Before he took off his jacket and his own shoes, he helped you unbuckle your mary-janes.

He ran his hands up the fabric of your thigh-highs. A brand new pair that you’d worn just for him. “These look so cute on you,” he said.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said in a small voice, both shy and falling further into your little girl headspace.

“Can daddy see what’s under your pretty dress?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically. You picked out a special pair of panties just for him. Baby pink with “I <3 Daddy” on the front in red. He manhandled you, standing you up so he could take off your dress. You lifted your arms up before being asked, knowing he was going to help you pull it over your head. Leon picked you up and laid you down on the bed, stopping to admire you. You watched as pure desire filled his eyes. He almost forgot to hang up your dress because he was so distracted by your barely covered cunt. Your arousal had already created a wet patch in the thin fabric of your panties.

Leon discarded his shirt before getting on his knees. He wanted to tease you further but longed to taste you. He spread your thighs with his big hands and then he ran his thumb across your still-clothed slit. His light touch was tantalizing, making you shiver.

“So pretty for daddy,” he said. “I knew you were beautiful on camera, but you’re even prettier in person. I bet you taste good too.”

All thoughts swiftly exited your brain and all you could say was “daddy”.

“Daddy’s right here, sweet girl.” His fingers played with the waistband of your panties before he asked, “Can daddy take these off?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said.

He gently slipped them off and began to play with your folds, admiring your beauty. “Oh, baby,” he said, “your princess parts are so wet. Have you been waiting for daddy?”

“Yeah,” you said, “Need daddy’s help.”

“Such a good girl for waiting. I bet it was really hard when you were feeling this way.”

You nodded repeatedly, making sure he received your silent confirmation.

Leon’s head dipped between your thighs and you were biting back moans of anticipation. He flattened his tongue and took a languid lick up your folds, stopping at your clit to suck gently, earning more of your slick and an unbridled moan.

You knew you could reach your peak quickly if he continued. You were already fighting the overwhelming urge to buck your hips as you were dying for the feeling of his tongue.

He pulled back all too soon. Your immediate response was a whine, so desperate it almost saddened Leon.

“Shh… baby it’s okay,” he cooed, bringing his hand up to your cheek. “Daddy just wants to take his time with you.” He selfishly needed to taste you first, but he knew he couldn’t neglect the rest of your body. It would be sinful not to worship an angel like you fully.

“Let me go get something to calm you down, okay?”

You agreed, though your eyes were glossy with tears the moment Leon stood up. You assumed the overnight bag he brought held only a toothbrush and an extra pair of clothes, but you were glad to see that he brought you a brand new pacifier.

Your lips parted, almost instinctively to let him slot the pacifier between them. You sucked on the nub contentedly as you allowed Leon to move you so that you were comfortably situated on the bed with your head on the pillow while he loomed over you, getting a perfect view of your gorgeous figure. Each of his hands cupped one of your tits, giving them a gentle squeeze and then taking a moment to play with your nipples. He gave a kiss to each one because good girls with pretty tits deserve kisses.

“You’re such a good girl. Daddy’s gonna kiss you all over now.” As Leon began to kiss down your stomach, making his way towards the parts of you that needed his touch the most, you held out a hand for him to take. He smiled at your adorable gesture and intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held onto one of your hips.

“I think your princess parts need the most kisses. Is that right, baby?”

You nodded eagerly and Leon got to work, beginning by pressing his lips to your clit. You were struggling to keep the pacifier in your mouth as the feeling of his tongue lapping at your folds had you holding back moans. His middle finger slipped inside you, followed by his index, and as he curled them upward to meet that sensitive spot, your legs began to shake. You gripped his hand tighter and he stopped the movements of his mouth only momentarily to say, “I know, I know, baby. Just relax for me. Let it happen. Daddy’s gonna be here the whole time.”

When his lips reattached to your clit as he continued to finger you, doubling the pleasure he was giving you, you came – causing the pacifier to fall from your lips, leaving a trail of drool dripping from your mouth. You moaned loudly, chanting “daddy” over and over again, gushing around his fingers. He made sure not to let a single drop of your arousal go to waste, savoring your taste and refusing to pull back until you pushed his head away.

“Too much, Daddy, too much,” you whined.

“Alright, alright, cutie. Daddy will give you a break.”

“No break, no break, daddy.”

“No break? I thought you said it was too much, honey.”

“Need daddy inside,” you pouted. Leon nearly let a groan slip from his mouth.

“Need daddy inside, huh?” He was unable to resist you. “Let me go get something for you first, okay?”

As it turned out, there were more surprises in his bag. He brought you a plushie to hold onto, and you pulled him into a hug, thanking him for the gift.

You held onto the plushie as you watched Leon take off his pants, fully entranced by the sight of his dick.

“Daddy, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” It was a huge ego boost to Leon, but you truly weren’t sure if you could take him fully inside.

“It’s gonna fit, sweet pea. We’re gonna go slowly.”

Going slowly didn’t stop the intense feeling of being stretched, but Leon showered you in praise as he pressed inside you, one inch at a time.

“Look at you,” he said with a wide grin when you were fully filled by him. He pointed to the slight bulge in your belly where you could see his dick. You were amazed at your own ability to take him so well, and he was too, as confirmed with his next words.

“Daddy’s so proud of you,” he said. It was your favorite sentence to hear from him. The words alone could make you moan.

“We need to be careful not to get a noise complaint,” he said and picked up the pacifier, placing it back in your mouth. Your oral fixation happily obliged.

Leon fucked you slowly, but deeply, making sure that you felt every inch. The tip touched your cervix with every thrust.

It didn’t take long for Leon to say, “You’re gonna make daddy cum, baby. You’re so tight for me, feels so good.” Leon was nearly as lost in the feeling as you were. With the pacifier occupying your mouth, you couldn’t even tell Leon how close you were to the edge, but he was paying attention.

“Gonna cum for daddy?” he asked, needing to make sure that your pleasure came first.

Tears were forming in your waterline as you nodded, and you sobbed as your second orgasm hit you harder than the first. Leon continued to thrust slowly in and out of you as he held back his own impending orgasm. He led you through the aftershocks before pulling out and spilling all over your thighs, marking you the best he could without cumming inside you. He didn’t want to get you pregnant just yet.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he said as he placed a kiss on each cheek. “I think we should clean you up with a bath.”

Leon came prepared for bath time. From his suitcase – aka his bag of gifts for you – he pulled out rubber duckies and a bottle of bubble bath.

He picked you up and carried you bridal style to the bathroom so you wouldn’t have to use your tired legs, standing you in the bathtub, making sure to keep you upright while he wiped down your thighs that were still sticky with his release.

Leon removed you from the bath and sat you down on a towel, so he could run the water, making sure it was the perfect temperature – he had you stick your hand in to test it out before he helped you step into the tub.

You looked at him, confused. “Daddy, you aren’t getting in the bath with me?”

“Baby, the bath is for you. Daddy takes showers. You’re too little for those.”

Confusion turned to betrayal and a tear rolled down your cheek. Leon immediately backtracked. “It’s okay, honey, daddy can get in too if it’ll make his little girl happy.”

You nodded and the tears subsided. Leon swiped his thumbs across your cheeks and gave you a kiss on the forehead as an apology for suggesting you bathe alone. When he climbed in with you, he positioned in his lap, facing away from him so you could have fun with your rubber duckies, though you did end up laying your head on his chest by the end of bath time.

At first, it was difficult for Leon to stop himself from getting hard with your ass rubbing up against him, but he was soon distracted by your attempt at a bubble beard.

“Look daddy,” you said, proud of your work.

You were even happier with yourself after hearing Leon’s praises. “My baby looks pretty even with bubbles all over her face.”

“Gonna give you one, too, daddy,” you beamed before you coated his face in bubbles. It was too late for him to say no, though you were too adorable for him to refuse any offer from you.

Your fingers and toes were beginning to prune by the time you laid your cheek to Leon’s chest, and you were clearly ready for bed. Leon stepped out of the tub first so that he could be ready to wrap you in a towel the moment you got out. He wouldn’t want his baby to be cold for a second.

“Pajamas?” he asked when he carried you to bed.

“No, wanna be naked with daddy.”

Leon was more than happy to oblige with that request.

“We better get under the covers, then. Don’t wanna get cold, do we?”

You agreed, knowing that daddy was right. Lying skin to skin with Leon kept you warm through the night – so warm you almost missed your checkout time.

“Maybe we should just stay for an extra night, baby,” Leon said, leaning in for your first kiss of the day.

“Really?” You were more than pleased with his idea.

“Uh-huh,” he said, “I think daddy needs some more time playing with baby today.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “need to play with daddy.”

You were lucky you were still naked from the night before, so there was no hassle of getting undressed. Leon was willing to pay double for another day with you, but when his lips met yours, you forgot about all payment. Your number one supporter deserved a freebie, you decided. 

[communityinclusion]

Crocker Fellow Explores How Disability Impacts Sibling Relationships

A new zine from 2021 Allen C. Crocker Family Fellowship recipient Jess Mendes explores the experiences of adult siblings of individuals with physical, intellectual, behavioral and/or developmental disabilities, bringing together perspectives and providing resources for people living at the intersection of multiple marginalized identities.

To create Same-Same But Different, Mendes asked individuals to use personal essays and visual multimedia to unpack how disabling attitudes, environments, and systems impact their sibling relationships.

In addition to being a physical zine, Same-Same But Different is also a digital flipbook, and an accessible PDF version is also available. The title of the zine comes from an article published in Impact by Alison Whyte, executive director of the Disabilities Council in Washington, D.C., where she acknowledges that 90% of research on siblings affected by disabilities is white, relatively middle class, and female.

Mendes said the idea of creating the zine came from a place of survival and watching her brother’s life almost come to a complete stop when he turned 22 and “aged out” of educational programs supported by the school system during the COVID-19 pandemic. As she called different organizations to figure out what to do and failed to get any answers, Mendes found herself wishing for something she could connect with as a visually oriented person.

“I’m proud of myself for having an idea and executing it,” Mendes said. “But beyond that, I hope this genuinely serves as a reference point so more families, creatives, storytellers, more people understand that they’re not alone. They can also use their creativity to share resources and not feel lost.”

To secure contributors’ participation, Mendes had a list of ideas and themes that she wanted to explore, such as financial planning, religion and faith, or sex, and she let contributors pick the topic that resonated most with them.

Initially, Mendes envisioned a more photo-based project, but because the pandemic made it riskier to be in close physical contact with people, she pivoted toward multimedia instead.

“And in turn, that was more rewarding, because it allowed everyone more time to be reflective of what they wanted to say and how they wanted to represent their family,” Mendes said.

It was also important to Mendes that the zine’s closing pages include resources for caregivers, advocates, and small businesses to offer community guidance and help everyone understand that as challenging as circumstances can be, they are not alone.

“For family members, I hope we find community and not feel so isolated,” Mendes said. “And for anyone else, I hope they ask themselves, how can I contribute to making my environment more inclusive so that it eases everyone’s participation in the world.”

Since the zine was published, it has been featured on several platforms, including zine festivals nationwide. Mendes presented it during Boston Design Week at the nonprofit where she works, the Institute for Human Centered Design. She also presented Same-Same But Different in August 2023 at the Leadership Exchange in Arts and Disability Conference, which brings together arts and culture administrators to discuss how to make their spaces more accessible and inclusive to the public.

And whether it’s been shared with a family member, a friend, or these more institutional settings, Mendes said the feedback she’s received has been really positive.

“If I’m being completely honest, it’s surreal, because it’s been two-and-a-half years of trying to weave multiple parts into a final project that I feel confident standing by visually and storytelling-wise,” Mendes said.

Looking to the future, Mendes said she would love the opportunity to take her work from print to video, such as through a documentary, or realize her original vision of a photo book, in the style of photographers Deana Lawson and Diane Arbus.

“I’ll be extremely grateful if Same-Same But Different keeps evolving,” Mendes said. “Ultimately, I will have to turn to my brother as the muse to guide the next steps.”

[smithqjohns]

6. “I’m gonna get out the big chunks first…” we went to a really nice large pool and at some point it was announced that everyone had to get out because someone pooped in the pool, and then at some point it was decided that it was throw u,p and then later it was decided that someone just dropped some Cheetos in the pool that they were holding and eating. But when it first happened, after we heard the announcement that we were to get out of the pool, I heard the life guard with the net say, “I’m gonna get out the big chunks first…” which felt very vivid after being told their was poop in the pool… would go back though, 9 out of 10 stars.

7. My mom and my cousin (along with her two dogs) met us there in Tennessee and my mom brought me boiled peanuts and scuppernong jelly.

8. Went on a very nice hike at the Devil’s Backbone. Recommend.

9. Went to a large (for this size town) farmer’s market where I got a delicious fried Bologna sandwich. The cook brought it over to me with a proud smile and in a thick Tennessee accent he quietly but genuinely said “you’re gonna really like this…” he was right I did, and it was only $3.50. (This was my second of three Bologna sandwiches on the trip. I grew up eating Bologna but never loved it. I did always eat it though. It’s been about three decades since when I used to frequently eat them. Before this trip I’ve maybe had one since those days. So eating them was nostalgic of course, but after so long I’ve finally actually missed the taste of them.)

10. At the farmer’s market I found a shirt that said “You’re the Trailer Park - I’m the Tornado.” The design had 1990’s look to it but was a new design. The designer wasn’t there but their business card was so I grabbed it. It was a women’s XL shirt so I thought it would be too small. Actually it was the size of a men’s triple XL. I guess will have to order one my size. Other shirts I saw there (different designer though) were “Heifer Please” and “The Confederate States of America - Love it or Leave it” (bravest losers of all time)… oh and the Jeep ones that say “Boobie Bouncer.” They also had a section that printed older style shirts, like the “In Loving Memory” ones or the heart ones with you and your lover’s name. I remember at the fair seeing these type of shirts all the time in the 80’s but very rarely anymore. I’ve missed them. I wanted to get one but it was overwhelming with all of the choices.

11. Also at the farmer’s market was this device kids could attach to their bike and then add chalk to it so they can draw things as they ride or if you want your kid to ride over to the neighbors and write “suck it” in their driveway…