#this combined with his ‘was raised with good morals by his parents and then they were killed and he was indoctrinated’ is so good

[ambrosia-vinca]

Thinking about how interesting it would have been to combine original Crow lore with Lucanis being protective over the slaves and freeing them, resisting Illario's very business, Crow-focused advice during the Wigmaker job.

It would have been interesting to explore why Lucanis acts the way he does in that story beyond “he's a nice person despite being a professional assassin”, especially when put up against established Crow lore.

To be clear, I'm talking about the Crows as their fucked up version established in previous games, books, and comics, and for the purpose of these thoughts I'm ignoring Veilguard's almost squeaky clean portrayal of them.

Lucanis is in his mid-thirties, and his parents were murdered when he was a child. This means that presumably, Caterina has been First Talon for a few decades, before Zevran defected from the Crows, which means that even if perhaps not all Crow Houses dabble in buying children (I'm thinking of Teia in particular, because in Tevinter Nights, she is portrayed as seeing the Crows and Caterina through kind of rose-tinted glasses, so maybe House Cantori doesn't do that anymore once Teia becomes a Talon), Caterina would definitely have known about this practice, and she would have overseen it. Just like she would know perfectly well what goes on in Velabanchel, the place where Crows lock up people "for fun and torture" (!)

Which means that going from this, Lucanis would have also known about everything. Heir to the First Talon as he is, his experience of the Crows is very different from someone like Zevran's, being materially privileged at least, never lacking for money, but also similar in that it was abusive with the fucked up training the Crows go through, on top of Caterina's special brand of smothering expectations. He wasn't bought from a brothel, but he would know that's how the Crows pad their ranks.

Now how would Lucanis reconcile his undying loyalty to his only two remaining family members with the moral principles he has apparently somehow managed to keep protected all these years, the heart that is purely him? Knowing that Caterina tacitly assents, if not outright participates in the practice of buying orphans to raise them into assassins while those who aren't strong enough die? Is that not another form of slavery on part of the Crows? It would mean a high level of cognitive dissonance to close your eyes on something like that, and it would mean smothering his own moral principles for a long, long time. Lucanis has been raised in this environment, brainwashed into being a killer too, with a determination and loyalty to his family that are unfailing because he clings to them as they are the only thing he has in the world, to the point of it almost (if not outright) being unhealthy, unable to ever say no to his grandmother or to risk disappointing her. If he goes against his family, he has nothing, he *is* nothing, because in his mind, the only thing he is good at is being a Crow aka killing people.

And then the golden Dellamorte child gets to Vyrantium, and he risks sparing a witness, because she is a slave and has no choice in being there. And then he takes even more risks to have the Wigmaker's slaves escape with their lives and be freed, and he feels rage at the way the victims have been tortured, and the perfect little Crow says fuck the job.

Could it have been, consciously, or maybe subconsciously, a way to oppose his grandmother? Have the principles he has never actually managed to make known because he has never been able to stand up to Caterina before grown too strong to ignore because of what he witnessed in Tevinter? Would Lucanis be conscious of the fact that perhaps his uncontrolled anger at the treatment of the slaves in Wigmaker might stem from his own repressed horror at Crow practices buying and torturing children, Lucanis going so far as saying “fuck the job” which is a big deal for someone as loyal and in control as he usually is? Could his saying “fuck the job” and causing chaos in Vyrantium or maybe in other jobs involving slavery have eventually made him butt heads with Caterina because of the mess he made for shamefully sentimental reasons despite being the usually perfectly controlled golden child, or would she have turned a blind eye because he's her “favorite”? Could *this* have been the rift that may or may not make Lucanis finally take a step away?

I want to study Lucanis' character under a microscope. His character can fit so much moral conflict.

[blanc-ci]

I can’t find a free pdf to learn what “took great pleasure in humiliating him in front of the entire crew” could entail- but my imagination is running wild with it

Hatred of authority and an ambition born out of being so extensively humiliated and violated that he swears he’ll become a man who won’t have to bow to anyone.

No wonder he holds such little regard for life, from his experience every single person is rotten to the core, selfish and self serving. And when he finally reaches the comfort of Captaincy, he reflects that same attitude. Cruel and sadistic because now it’s finally his turn, he can make others feel the same pain he felt.

Ugh I don’t have the words, you get it, you can see the intricacies

(reminds me of the song Power by Siiickbrain)

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓰𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓼: 𝓐𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓪𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

Stepdad!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your mother forces you to tag along on Javi’s trip to New York. She says you need to learn to get along. And get along you do. Aka horny, drunk, high, debauched sex with stepdad Javi. Part 2 of ‘Teasing like you do’.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, stepdad trope and all that comes with, dubious morals and relationship, age gap [reader is 18/19 Javi is in his mid 40s], reader wears a dress, petnames [ Bunny], mommy & daddy issues ™ , deceased parent, angst, DUBCON, alcohol consumption, drug use, cigarette smoking, inebriated sex, brat tamer!softdom!Javi, subby! brat!reader, f masturbation, rough sex, major size kink [Javi is bigger than reader, can rough house with her], degradation, dumbification, praise kink, daddy kink and dd/lg vibes, dirty talk, finger sucking, c*meating?, choking, spanking [with hands] , hair pulling [no hair type specified], dry humping, somno, messy sex, fingering, unprotected P in V [be better!!], multiple orgasms and creamp*es. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 9k

A/N: This Javi is honestly my fav that I’ve written. This is part 2/3, and it’s double the fun from last time. Javi is just so soft (and crazy) and there’s so much smut and some angst for you nasties. Combined the top two highest votes answers from this poll! Thanks to all who voted!! Hope you enjoy! Mwah!

🌼 Part I 🌼 Masterlist

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind

“New York?” You raise your brow and watch your mother fold the kitchen towels and toss them onto the counter one by one. “Yes. You can’t avoid him forever. He’s here to stay, and you’re going to like it, and him. That’s final.” Oh, you do like him—her husband, that is. In fact, you arguably get on a bit too well. You bite your lip to keep from commenting on her sour tone. She doesn’t need to know you and Javier had become quite well acquainted over the weekend—if him taking your virginity was any indication.

Even though her tone sets your teeth on edge, you spare yourself the crisis of revealing you are sleeping with her husband and instead decide to take up the opportunity she offers you on a silver platter with a curt nod and some feigned annoyance.

Your mum brings it up to her husband at dinner. He's eating and he looks up at her for a moment before shrugging and agreeing it would be a good chance to bond. Javier is even better at feigning his own indifference to the suggestion, so much so, in fact you’re afraid fooling around with you is not in fact part of his plans in New York. Its been two days since he’s fucked you and you’re always on edge. He hasn’t been around the house much because he's dealing with the fallout of the raid and it's driving you wild. 

You’ve spent the nights desperately grinding against your plush pillows but it seems like he's the only person that can actually get you off. Ever since you actually felt what it was like to cum you can't get enough and you’re resenting him for every moment he’s not between your legs. 

Safe to say you’re desperately counting on this not being a one time thing. 

After dinner you busy yourself with the clearing up, and your mother leaves to answer the phone just as Javi brings the last pot from the table to the kitchen counter. It's the first time you’re alone with him since the weekend and as he leaves he comes up behind you to lean beside your ear. He snaps the strap of your bra and kisses your shoulder. “Gonna let me fill this tight little pussy up again?” 

He shifts his hands to your waist. It's the second time he's touched you this way, and this time you can feel the cool metal of his wedding band graze your warm skin. You swallow, then look towards the livingroom to see the shadow of your mum walking around with the landline in her hand, chatting away to a neighbour. You nod your head, and after lowly chuckling Javi reaches a hand down to grab a handful of your ass. When he squeezes you have to bite your lip to keep from moaning. 

“Good, bunny.” He slaps your ass for good measure and you hear his footsteps get distant as he leaves the kitchen and walks up the stairs. 

At night you try to sleep but you’re too horny and wet. The feeling of his hands on your body drive you crazy and nothing can distract from it. The room is quiet and it's so hot you’ve got every window open. The cool breeze from outside grazes your skin and you flinch. You're too sensitive. 

You toss and turn for a while but you can’t help yourself, you groan and your hand drifts under the waistband of your panties. Your fingers slip between your folds and you’re dripping. A quiet breathy sigh escapes your lips as you spread your wetness and rub your cunt. 

Your other hand squeezes at your breast under your sleep shirt and you moan, you’re so on edge you think you might just make yourself cum. You rub yourself a little while longer, teetering on the edge but somehow unable to tip over it. Your hand is drenched and you feel your slick smear against your inner thighs. Even still you can’t seem to get there. You dip a finger into your weeping entrance and shiver. You wonder if you felt the same to Javi, your fingers surely didn’t feel like his. 

You sink back against your pillows. 

You're staring at the ceiling a good twenty minutes when you hear the front door shutting from outside. Bounding to the window you lean over its edge to see Javier getting into his car, one hand shoving his gun into his holster. He's a little shadow, a little splodge of navy blue against a background of swishing greens, and blacks and little orange lights. 

A pit in your stomach grows when the car pulls out of the driveway and into the street. It makes you sick to admit but you worry when he runs out like that in the middle of the night. You wonder where he's off too, you have always wished he was safe. Even when he wasn’t fucking you, he might have been the best thing to happen to your family in a while. 

Hell, even when you thought you hated his guts, you knew he was the only good thing to happen to your family in a while. And you weren’t an idiot. Sure, to say you and your mother got along would be gracious, but she too lost a husband when you lost a father. She spent her days alone in a home she built from the ground up with the love of her life. 

At some level, you forgave her, you loved her. When you first slept with him, you felt guilty, you felt like you were robbing her of the one good thing she had. But part of you wanted to avenge that little girl who got packed away, who had nowhere safe to go, who had no one. Javier could be your someone, at least intermittently, and while you didn’t blame her for what she did, no amount of intellectualising your suffering could make it better. 

She knew she couldn’t raise you alone so she decided not to raise you at all, and it was perhaps that that disheartened you the most. 

You notice the lights go out in the neighbours living room, you see shadows climb up the stairs. There's not much you can do besides return to bed and try to get some rest. 

— 

The trip comes around quicker than you expect. Before you know it your bags are packed and you’re boarding a plane with Javi. He is preoccupied with whatever it is he’s in New York for, so you’re spared the presumably awkward travel conversation. He lets you doze against his shoulder, and when you land he’s slinging your luggage over that same shoulder. It's a small bag but it isn’t weightless. You like how he makes it seem like it is. If only he knew about the skimpy lingerie he was lugging around. New York delights you with the warm, sunny weather. 

Once you’re actually at the hotel, you're barely there for ten minutes. “Twin beds?” the lady at the reception asks your stepfather, already expecting a yes. You can tell with the look on her face. You feel a little embarrassed that she’s even asking, but that embarrassment deepens tenfold when Javier stops her. “A double is fine” She quickly nods her head, looking nothing short of uncomfortable. Perhaps the only person more shocked is you. Your face burns and you look away. She doesn’t know you, doesn’t know what you are to each other, but just seeing you two together would even have you embarrassed. 

Either way it's enough time to get rid of your luggage before Javi insists you get some food in you. He’s so preoccupied with whatever’s going on with his job you decide not to give him too much of a hard time. You’ll save that for later. 

He’s on the phone so much. He looks upset and stressed– as much as he lets himself look, that is. Even then he takes your hand in his when you cross the street, pulls you to his side when you’re in a crowd. He leads you into a coffee shop and finally gets off his mobile phone. 

By the time you’re sitting down with your coffee– well his coffee and your ice tea, you’re dying for him to pay attention to you. You twirl the straw between your lips and look up at him. He’s preoccupied, you can tell. 

When he's done restlessly tapping his fingers against the table he opens up the file he’s been lugging around all day, and a pen from his pocket. You think you spend ten whole minutes in silence, watching him annotate the swarm of papers inside. 

New york is as “hustle bustle” as you remember, the glass facade buildings are bouncing rays of sunshine off one another, the sky is that perfect shade of powder blue. There are so many people bumbling outside, all like little insects fleeting about. You observe them from the window, they don't pay attention to you, or anyone for that matter– they’re looking ahead. 

The last time you had been here was with your father– you can see the hotel you stayed at from where you’re sitting. You have to crane your neck a bit though– Javier is disrupting the view. 

He doesn't notice when you get up from your seat and saunter towards the cafe counter. He didn’t notice you eyeing the red lollipops from your table the entire afternoon so you’re not surprised. But when you sit back down, lollipop in hand, and drag your foot up his calf under the table? Now that catches his attention. 

He watches you wrap your lips around it, watches you pucker them up and lick the underside of the sweet treat. Your lips part and you take it in your mouth, rolling the stick between your fingers with a knowing smile plastered across your face. It shines all glossy when you release it with a pop, and you run it along your bottom lip as Javi takes a strained sip from his cup of coffee. 

He tries to feign annoyance but a smile breaks through and he scoffs lightheartedly at your antics. The whole atmosphere is quite lighthearted. You felt warm and happy on the inside. You're glad you came. 

The rest of lunch passes in relative silence, and a comfortable silence. You finish your meal, and actually don’t mind the quiet time with Javi as he works on preparing for his meeting later in the evening. He lets you play footsie with him under the table, lets you play with his fingers as they rest idly against the tablecloth. 

On the way out he gets you another lollipop on request, and watches keenly as you unwrap it and pop it between your lips. The pink colouring stains your tongue when you release it and his eyes bloom with lust as he notices. They linger on your lips as they shine in the sun and the two of you step out of the cafe. 

He reaches forward, swipes his thumb on the corner of your mouth and pulls you against him. His eyes are glossy when he strokes your head gently. When he leans down his lips brush your forehead and his voice is lower than usual. 

“Messy little girl.” 

You skip ahead of him and into the street, then wait a few seconds for him to catch up. He’s already on the phone again and he's arguing with someone, he tosses you a few coins and gestures to the little shop beside you. Somehow you think you know what he's asking, so you hop in and snag him a pack of cigs. When you run back out he's still arguing, but he watches you run towards him and he smiles rather proudly as he takes the pack from your hands and lights one up. 

You feel a little giddy and you cover it up with a smirk, but he pulls you into his side and pats your head affectionately and you can't help the heat that creeps onto your cheeks. 

— 

“Don't wait up for me.” 

He’d said as he left the hotel room. And how exactly was he planning to make good on his promise of fucking you dumb with that instruction? True, you were beyond tired from the long travel day, but even at thirty past midnight you were more than determined to stay up to welcome Javier after his important work meeting. 

“What the hell is taking him so long, anyway?” you wonder out loud, hanging upside down off the plush couch set beside the windows in your hotel room. With an outstretched hand you grope for the pills you’d set on the coffee table, and pop another in your mouth. 

You know it's not a good idea, he’ll be upset, and angry, and he’ll give you such a hard time for it. You giggle, remembering the “hard time” he gave you last time he found out you were up to no good. 

“Bunny?” His voice is slurred just a little, thick and hoarse. You jump upright on the sofa and watch with dizzy eyes as he clicks the hotel room door shut and chucks the keycard onto the counter beside it. He’s craning his neck a little to catch sight of you but from where you're seated you can barely see each other. 

The sound of his leather boots clacking against the marble prompts you to slip out of your trance and toss the bottle of pills you’d had on the coffee table haphazardly under it and on the floor. Retrospectively, what you aimed to achieve doing that is unclear, but it was an effort nonetheless. The lit joint stays between your fingers, however, and before you can even divert your attention to it and decide what you’re going to do with it, Javi is leaning in the entryway and raising his brows at you.

You watch him rest his shoulder in the archway for a moment and kick off his boots. “Told ya to get to sleep..” he looks tired, and a little bit irritated, though there's nothing unusual about that. “I thought you wanted to fuck me?” you kick your legs up on the couch and he turns his head in your direction. The look he shoots you makes you feel just a little guilty for bothering him. Your own tone and cheeky remarks surprise you. “What did you say? You were gonna “fill this tight little pussy up again?””

What you say seems to catch his attention. So does the lit joint you’re holding up. 

“Have you been drinking?” he stalks towards you and picks up the pills you assumed you'd stealthily chucked under the table. His shoulders drop and he puts a hand on his hip. “No.” you sound a lot more guilty than you’d like.  

“What the fuck is this?” he's struggling to remain composed as he gestures to the mess you made– between the sofa and the coffee table. His jaw ticks and he reaches for the joint and yanks it from your grip. He's been drinking, you can smell the whiskey off his leather jacket, it’s strong enough for you to know the meeting likely ended several hours prior.  “I told ya last time-”

He turns to put away the bottle and you attempt to stand up and follow him. His hand on your chest stops you however, and pushes you back onto the sofa till your ass is landing on it with a thud. God, he's such a hypocrite. “You're the one walking in drunk” 

You watch him shove the pill bottle in his duffle bag, then turn back toward you and take a drag from your joint. “Don't give me that attitude, little girl.” His actions only piss you off further. And here you thought this would be a fun little trip. 

“Or what? Looks like you aren’t gonna fuck me anyway.” he shrugs of his jacket with the joint placed deftly between his lips. He’s so hot it’s difficult to maintain your annoyance– especially considering he can tell you're far from sober– with your slurred speech, too loud voice and whining. “Had a few drinks and now you're playing good cop?” 

He probably also knows you're trying to get on his nerves. Which is why he ignores your incessant cribbing and plops some paperwork on the coffee table, taking a seat beside you on the couch and grabbing your face between his fingers. The cool metal of the wedding band presses gently against your skin, a constant reminder of its presence. You can smell the whiskey and cigarettes off his skin. “High off your fuckin ass.” 

He takes another drag and runs a hand over his face, his own back hitting the couch as he slumps against it. You reach for the joint but he smacks your hand away. “No bunny, I think that’s enough.” 

Your groaning makes him roll his eyes and you begin to get increasingly frustrated. “I don’t understand what your deal is. Are you always on the clock or something?” you grab his wrist and haul yourself onto his lap. Now straddling him you feel a jolt of arousal soar across your spine. 

“Cant keep doin this shit” he tries to wrangle the joint out of your grip with a hand on your wrist, and after struggling with you for a second he frustratedly grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer till your forehead is pressed against his. He sounds tired of reprimanding you.  “Let go.” 

You know you sound pathetic but you whine and let go. You feel his hard length swell against your now damp panties. Javi takes the joint back and takes a drag, he shifts under you and you bounce on his lap. The feel of his denim against your clit has you biting your lip in an attempt to retain your composure.

“That desperate are you?” Javier laughs and toys with the straps on your dress. “Just fuck me.. Please.” you do sound desperate. Javi rolls his eyes, and his lack of attention directed towards you irks you to no end. 

“Shut that whore mouth and maybe I'll think about it.” he smacks your ass and kisses your cheek to make up for it. “be good.” a beat of silence passes, and you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, watch him smoke the joint till his eyes are cloudy and fluttering shut. You think you’re a bit more high than before thanks to the second hand smoke. 

You want to kiss him, want to call him that name that's been bubbling in your throat since that night in the woods. You watch Javi take another drag, a final drag, and put out the joint in the ashtray. 

You can't help yourself, you close your eyes and lean in, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss and melting into his arms. You think it might do you some good to get back on his good side. “Hi, daddy.” If you were sober you’d be horrified, but you have more than enough liquid courage in you to test the waters. There’s a short but pregnant pause, and Javier's surprised expression makes your heart quicken. 

“Hi, bunny.” Javi raises his brows, laughs and cups your cheek. The tensions long left his shoulders. Handsome, he’s so handsome. He’s always been. His eyes are droopier than they usually are. “Daddy, need you..” It comes out as a whisper, a whine and a plea all at the same time. “Need you to fuck me.” 

“Jesus christ, bunny. Tryna kill me?” His hand smooths up and down your thigh, his other drawing patterns on your waist and caging you against him. He kisses you lightly, and you giggle against his lips, he does it again, and again, and again, then tilts your jaw up to put his mouth on your neck. You gasp, your hands reach to tangle in his soft, wavy hair, and you pull him impossibly closer. Your tugging makes him groan, and his hand slips under your top to undo the clasp of your bra. 

You call out his name as he discards your lingerie, dizzy and dripping for him, unable to get enough of his lips on your skin. Slinging your other leg over his waist you lay yourself sideways in his lap. The heat that radiates off his skin prompts you to curl up even closer to him, and you try your best to undo the top buttons of his shirt. 

You get distracted when his hand disappears between your thighs and under your dress. He rubs your wet pussy through the fabric of your panties and you moan into his mouth. You’re getting more impatient by the second, and he's being far too slow and gentle for your liking. 

Your hand finds his wrist under your skirt and you reluctantly pry his hand away. Before he can look up you’re climbing onto his lap and grinding your clothed cunt against him in a swift, slow roll of your hips. Surprised, his hands grab your waist and he leans back on the chair. Javier tries to flip you onto your back again but you slot your fingers against his and roll your hips. He lifts his own to meet your core and you shiver.“Impatient little thing. Just wanna take what you want, don’t you?” 

“Ohh daddy…’s too hot.” Javi’s voice strains as he curses under his breath and slides your dress off your upper body till the fabric is pooling at your waist. As you rock against him he tugs and bunches it up, controlling your moments. “Soakin my fuckin’ jeans, Bun..” He lifts the fabric up to watch you grind on his bulge.  

His words make you groan, and you feel the desire pool even deeper in your belly. With his hands managing your movements you let your own grab onto his shoulders– stabilising yourself. “Goddamn, pretty as a picture.” Thank god you thought to maintain your balance, because you might have just fallen off Javier’s lap when his mouth found your chest, sucking your nipple into his mouth and prompting a loud but lazy moan to slip past your lips. 

He nips at your skin, kissing his way back up your neck and grinding into your clothed crotch. “Like using daddy like you use your pillows, baby?” The coil in your belly only tightens and your words slur. “‘S better….” You’re drunk and dizzy, your ears burn but you can't stop. It feels so good. 

“Mhm, bet it is, baby bunny, them pillows don’t make you cum, do they?” you shake your head “no”, and Javi responds with a chuckle. He pulls you closer and you drop your head against his shoulder. “That’s right, just daddy, ain’t it?”.  His lips find your neck again and he mumbles hushed praises against your skin. His voice is soft but strained, and you feel him throb against you. 

You move faster against him, chasing that release that's so close, your thighs parting even more across him. You’re practically bouncing in his lap, the rub of his jeans against your clit sending you into a frenzy. Javi’s hands palm your breasts and it feels like your whole body is on fire. “That's it, good girl.” 

Your hips stutter and with a final rise of Javier’s hips. You don't even register it happening, something inside you just snaps. He holds you against him, watches the way your eyes roll right to the back of your head as you reach your high. You can hear him groan but your ears are mostly ringing, pussy fluttering around nothing. You’re sure your panties are soaked at this point. The moan that erupts from your throat is nothing short of pornographic. 

You feel the heat seep onto his jeans, and you twitch a final few times from the aftershocks as you move yourself against him, now slightly slower. He twists your nipple between his fingers, then slaps your ass so hard you go reeling forward into his chest. Surely, when your hips lift off his, a dark, wet spot has formed on his grey denim. The both of you look down at his lap, at the lewd string of slick that connects your panty covered core to his jeans. 

“Already, bunny?!” He’s half surprised, half proud. A sort of excited smirk tugs at his lips and snaps the band of your panties against your ass. In reaction you bury your face further in his neck, leaving desperate, sloppy, open mouth kisses there. “Still all achy, aren’t ya?” 

Javier groans and slides his fingers between your thighs, his other hand keeping a vice grip on your hip. “So fuckin wet, got these panties all messy huh?” You're already throbbing again, and your nipples pebble impossibly harder thanks to his touch. It doesn't help that you feel all conscious and small– your bare chest pressing against Javi’s still clothed body. 

You mewl and tug at his shirt and he chuckles, a smug smile plastered on his face. “Behave..” you pout and groan impatiently. “Silly thing.” He grabs your hands and plants them on his chest, his own moving to slide your dress over your head and discard it on the ground beside you. 

You toy with the buttons on his shirt yet again and he gives you a warning look in response, ending your misery and undoing them himself. You can’t help but continue to grind against him with little rolls of your hips, your soaked panties sticking to your cunt and making the friction even more pleasing. Javi smacks your ass in warning. “Patience, little slut.” 

You can't even register what's happening, he's throwing you onto the bed and yanking your panties down your legs. You push yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at Javi climbing on top of you. 

Your little show doesn’t last long, because in a second he's flipping you onto your stomach and smacking your ass till you're whimpering for him. Prompting you on all fours he grabs your hips in his massive hands, getting behind you on his knees. 

His thumb swipes the cut of your pussy, and he groans as he feels and spreads your wetness along your cunt. “Always so fuckin wet, dumb little thing.” his index and middle dip into your warm, waiting hole, and the stretch of his thick fingers have your knees giving out under you. 

Javier laughs, but snakes a hand around your middle to hold you up for him. You feel his cock press up against your ass– hot and needy. You wiggle your hips and push back against him, but that only earns you a spank and a mumbled “brat”. 

Agonisingly slow for your liking he runs his cock up the length of your pussy, smearing the precum at the head and further spreading your wetness. “Please…” he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in in a single, deep thrust. 

You pity the people in the neighbouring rooms upon hearing the downright pornographic moan that leaves your mouth. The feeling of his thick cock stretching you open brings that heaviness to your hips, a buzzing that spreads all across your body and stings you where Javi’s got his hands. 

Those hands smooth along your back travel up to your head to catch a hold on your hair. A strong sense of dizziness overcomes you thanks to his fingertips grazing your scalp, and that feeling only intensifies tenfold when he tugs at your hair and forces your gaze directly ahead of you. He can tell you’ve already lost yourself, can sense the way you've gone dumb with the simple gesture, how you like being used like a little doll. 

“Look at that, gone dumb already?” each thrust of his hits deeper thanks to the way he's tugging you towards him. His words make you shiver and gush around his cock. “Gonna fuck this tight little pussy like ya need.” 

His hand that's resting on your hip lands a spank to your ass and you yelp.  “Fuck bunny, bet it feels nice to have somthing filling this pretty little snatch again huh?” you nod, then mewl at the drag of his cock against your wet walls. 

“This pussy’s fuckin made for me.” he groans as he thrusts inside you–voice strained and hoarse. “Gonna mould ya into my perfect little cockslut.Teach ya how to really take it.” you nod your head, relishing in the pull and tug on your scalp thanks to his relentless grip on your hair. “Gonna fill you up till you're dripping with my cum.” 

He chuckles at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, you want that?” you feel him lean down and kiss along your spine. When he speaks you feel his lips murmur against your skin. “Want daddy to teach ya how to be his perfect little sex bunny?” 

“That's right, bet ya do– insatiable little thing, aren't ya?” he lets go of your hair and his hand drifts to your neck. Your skin is on fire. 

“Daddy” 

“I know baby Bun.”  He guides you up with a hand around your neck, your face turning to bury in the crook of his neck. Your eyes barely open to watch his face contort in pleasure. The expanse of his chest welcomes you, and you rest your head back against his shoulder, your nose brushing the nape of his neck. His thrusts don't cease and the new angle has you groaning into his skin. 

He notices your incessant lip biting, the way you reach to slot your lips against his. He obliges, sliding his tongue into your mouth, your own lips being forced to part from his when he thrusts deep inside you and you gasp. 

“Need something to keep that mouth busy, dontcha’ lil darlin’?” His index and middle finger swipe against your bottom lip. Pushing his digits past your lips he watches as you gently suck, groaning when you run your tongue against them. “That’s it. Let daddy take control.” 

Your own arms reach behind you to wind around his neck, back arching thanks to the pleasure. You moan around his digits, jaw going slack when you feel his fingers on your clit. Your pussy bares down on his cock as he rubs you in soft circles. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and angles your face to watch his other hand move between your thighs. 

The sight is so erotic you think it might just make you cum. “Yeah.. like that don’t you? Dirty girl.” His breath is warm against your skin. All his words are muffled against your hairline. “Like seeing what daddy does to you?” 

He kisses your cheek and his other hand shifts a pillow below your hips to push you back onto. He chuckles when you flop onto the bed with a yelp. When you land back on the bed and he thrusts inside you the new angle makes you squirm, you don’t think you could even describe the feeling of being so full. He pushes you down with both hands on your hips and fucks you into the matress. 

You try to lift your head to look behind you but his hands travel to grab a hold of your hair. “Gonna let me use ya?” an incoherent ‘yes’ leaves your mouth in the form of a scream. “Hmm baby Bun?” you reply yet again, but your capacity to respond is greatly diminished as his cock brushes that sweet spot inside you. 

Over and over, you feel your pussy flutter around him and you can’t help it when your mouth hangs open. “Who's daddy's little sex doll?” frantically nodding, you refuse to rely on your ability to reply coherently with words. Daddy doesn’t seem to mind, he doesn’t need you to respond. “You are, aren't you? my little sex bunny.” 

His palm comes down on your ass and you reel forward, only for him to tug you back with his hold on your hair. “Such a pretty little doll for daddy.” He tugs you into him with every thrust and you whimper, hands gripping the sheets and legs giving out till you're only held up by the pillow. “My girl.” 

He's so deep inside you you’re not even sure you can understand the new sensations. It's like he can read your mind. “Feel daddy, baby bunny?” he tugs on your hair once again, his other hand reaching down to plant firmly on your lower belly. “Yeah? Feel daddy in here?” 

He doesn't wait for you to nod, just uses his grip on your hair to do it for you. It's not like you could really think straight before, but now that Javi was tossing you around like an inanimate object, moulding you for himself, using you how he wanted, moving for you. 

His hand drops from your tummy to brace itself beside your head. In a second, he's lowering himself completely onto you, your entire body pressed against the pillows and fluffy duvet, and his entire front pressed to your back. With every thrust inside you you feel every single detail of his body as it rests against yours. 

The way he's resting on his forearms has him caging you against the bed, in a cocoon of your own. Your body is confined between his arms, your own forearms holding you up under him. You feel so small under him, his movements hitting you with extreme intensity. You fist the sheets in your fingers and groan. 

“Who makes this tight, slutty little pussy cum?” his lips brush against your cheek with every word that escapes them. Everything feels so warm, and vulnerable. You’re just a doll for his pleasure. You can barely recognise your own voice anymore– so whiny and desperate.

“You do.” 

“And who am I?” he squishes your face between his fingers. “Daddy!” you surge forward a little with the force of his thrust. You attempt to press your forehead against his but he’s determined on having a full view of your face as you slowly come apart on his cock. “Who makes you feel so goddamn good you can’t even think straight?” 

Javier takes delight in your incoherent, trembling answers. “Daddy does”. He eggs you on, seemingly unable to get enough of the way you scramble to respond to him while being unable to control your sounds of pleasure. “Whose cock got ya going all dumb?” 

“Daddy’s” he coos and laughs against your skin, his death grip on your cheeks not ceasing. “That’s fuckin right, aint it.” He takes your chin in his hand and turns your face away from his, then buries his face in your neck and sucks at your skin. Your arms give out under you and you’re now fully pressed against the bed. You hear it creak indecently with every one of your movements. 

“Such a good bunny.” Javier’s cheek is flush with yours, and you’re sure he can feel just how hot they are against his cool skin. A swarm of butterflies flutters in your tummy and you whine, so incredibly close to the release you’ve been desperate for all evening. 

“Need daddy to make you cum?” both of his arms wind around your body, wedging themselves between yourself and the mattress. “Yes please, please daddy, really wanna.” you press your forehead against the pillow but he tilts it up. 

“Oh baby bunny..” you feel him throb inside you and his thrusts become sloppier. You can tell he’s nearing his end. “Good fucking girl..” the heat radiating off his body has sweat dripping down your back. You’re so close to cumming you push your hips back against him– whatever little you can, still mostly smothered by his towering frame. “Sound so sweet askin daddy like that. Usin’ your manners.” 

“Please daddy, make me cum..” with a sharp, deep thrust his cock nudges that spot inside you just right. The coil in your belly snaps and your whole body goes limp. “Wanna see that pretty little face.” Javi keeps your face tilted towards his so he can capture your lips in a messy kiss as you come undone around his cock– unable to reciprocate with your eyes rolling back into your head and your mouth parting in a strained, languid moan. “That's it, look at daddy’s good girl.” 

Seeing your face seems to set his own release off, and you feel Javi rut into your fluttering, wet heat in a few final, deep thrusts before his cock is pulsing against your walls and painting them in hot ropes of his spend. You vaguely hear him groan, and he nips your bottom lip. 

Javier takes a moment to catch his breath, slumping on top of you briefly before rolling onto his side. His touch, and his weight over your body is already something you miss, and you reach for him– arm reaching out and hand groping for purchase on his skin. He indulges you and pulls you on top of him, lets you catch your own breath with your chest pressed against his. You feel his spend mess your inner thighs. You murmur the word “pillow” and hope he gets the message to shift it before getting it dirty. Thankfully he does. 

By the time he’s pulling said pillow from under your hips and rolling you onto your side you’re half asleep. He collapses beside you and pulls you into his chest. You wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head against him. He's like a wall between you and the rest of the room. 

With your eyes closed and mind stuck between sleep and wakefulness you snuggle into him, giving yourself to dreamland. You hear him whisper before you lose all consciousness 

“Good night, baby bunny.” 

— 

You don't know how long it's been since you fell asleep. Javier’s arms, that have been caging you against him, move delicately to loosen around your frame. With fluttering eyelids you gain an ounce of consciousness to register the movement of your leg over Javi’s waist. 

It's all warm and fuzzy, and you murmur his name as a question before nuzzling into his neck. You can't tell what's happening, just hear him hush your whines when you feel his cock slide against your dripping seam. You wiggle your hips, already desperate for him. His tip bumps your clit and you shiver. 

You’re tired, you’re sleepy, hell you’re barely conscious. You drift between sleep and wakefulness, your skin setting ablaze as he lines himself up with your warm centre and slowly buries himself to the hilt. 

His lips slot against yours and his tongue slips into your mouth. You struggled to kiss him back as his cock slides in and out of your aching pussy. He squeezes your breast in his palm and you moan into his mouth. “S’okay, just keep makin’ them pretty sounds for me..” You can't help but sleepily moan and mewl. “all those pretty sounds for daddy? Aren't they?”

The both of you know he’s right. Javier’s lips come back to meet yours and he swallows your whimpers, you feel yourself getting closer and your pussy clenches down on his cock. His body's heat isn’t helping. The sheets get too warm and you feebly try and kick them off. 

Javi pulls them off you and the cool air from the AC hits your bar upper body. Sighing, you return your arms around his neck and push your hips towards his. “I know, baby Bun..” he holds you against him. “I know..” Your body hasn’t cooled down and you feel your chest burn with the heat. Your nipples pebble under the cool air and you bring his hand to your chest to ease the tension. The sensations make you impossibly more desperate and you search for his lips once again. 

He obliges and brings his face down to yours, his thrusts slow but deep and firm. Your breath becomes quicker and you feel the tension about to snap. Your lips go slack against his and he licks into your mouth as you moan softly and your walls pulse around his cock. You can barely hear him groan and you’re halfway back asleep already.

He thrusts inside your hot, throbbing heat a few more times before stilling inside you and filling you up. The feeling of his cock pulsing against your walls makes you shiver. He pulls out and you vaguely gauge the mess between your legs– far worse than before.  You swing your leg higher over his waist and he pulls you closer, you’re almost immediately back asleep. He tucks your head into the crook of his neck and dozes off. 

— 

The sun doesn't stand a chance disturbing you and peeking through the thick, blackout curtains– you’re awoken by the comforting sound of the kettle boiling over in its stead. Wakefulness evades you, but your eyes flutter open to catch Javier’s silhouette standing at the counter beside the tv, taking the kettle off its stand and making himself some tea. A soft rustling fills the room as you turn in the fluffy, plush sheets, only now realising you’re clothed in a fresh pair of panties and Javier’s old Lakers’ shirt– the one he wears around the house. 

You feel fresh, and you smell great– like the somebody bobbing his teabag in his cup had taken the opportunity to give you a nice sponge bath while you were still sleeping. You call that someone’s name– voice still thick with sleep. When you actually try to sit up you’re suddenly aware of how sore the previous night's escapades have actually left you. 

Javi turns in your direction, and his bedhead and overall morning grogginess doesn't go over your head. You envy your mother– she wakes up to this every single morning and still manages to be a bitch. What you wouldn’t give… 

“Got a few more hours till we leave.” He sits down in the armchair next to the windows and places his cup on the table. You’re surprised by how nonchalant he always seems to be about this whole situation. His wedding band catches the light of the sun and twinkles. You feel a pit in your stomach. 

He doesn’t pay you any mind as you roll out of bed, busy with his files from his meeting from the previous day. It takes you a minute to get to him, and you push his thighs apart and sit on the ground between his legs. You’re not exactly sure what you’re doing there, but you assume it’ll help you wake up. You want to be next to him, that's all you know. 

You rest your cheek on his thigh as he reads, and you can't help that your mind wanders to the events of the previous night. A tingle runs down your spine, and your eyes fall to his lap. You’ve never given anyone head before, and suddenly the thought of Javier grabbing your face and fucking into your mouth with his thick cock seems more appealing than ever. 

You shift on the ground beneath him, and nuzzle his thigh. His hand comes down to stroke your head and your eyes flutter shut. He’s still reading when you begin to trace patterns on his thigh with your fingertips. 

“Want something, bunny?” Peering over the files he glances down at you, still stroking your head gently. You don’t reply, not even sure what or how you can ask for what you want him to teach you. Instead you shift on your knees and bend down to kiss along his stomach. 

“Asked ya something, baby..” he doesn’t stop you so you continue, toying with the waistband of his shorts between your fingers. “Gonna speak up before we gotta go home?” The mention of ‘home’ makes you cringe. Seemingly realising what exactly you’re asking for as you trail kisses along his inner thighs, Javi grabs a hold of your face and pulls you up till your resting your chin back against his stomach. “C’mon now, get up. Gotta save that energy– your momma’s got that barbeque tonight we gotta go to. Barely slept five hours.” You plant your face in his stomach and groan. You’re not exactly elated to go back home, and you know he knows that. 

“Thanks for reminding me.” 

Way to kill the mood. 

“It ain’t that bad, ya know.” he sighs quite heavily, and you hear him flip another page in the document he's holding. “I know you wanna go make a life far away, and your mother, she’s not the nicest to ya..” He puts down the papers as he speaks, and his hand twists around your neck. You know what he’s getting at– what he was trying to get at last night. 

The comment irks you, and you raise your head from his stomach and sit higher on your knees. “I am not having this conversation with you.” The hand that’s around your neck pulls you up till you're on your knees completely, and you place both hands on his thighs to keep your balance. “Can’t keep runnin’ away from every problem you have.” He tilts your head up as he speaks with a hold on your hair. 

“For the record you don't know anything about me or my mother.” You shake off his hold and catch his wrist in your grasp, firmly planted on his thigh. “I know you think you’ve got us all pinned down, but lest you need reminding– you’ve been in our lives all of what? Twelve months?” He doesn’t try to remove his hand from your grip, and you feel a little bad about how you’re lashing out at him. 

“Bun..” Especially when he talks to you this way, all patient and sweet. “Can’t keep doin’ this..” his other hand reaches for your face but you grab it too. “Not now at least.” you know what’s coming next. “And ya can’t keep gettin so close to trouble. Can't keep runnin that mouth on everyone. Actin’ out.” 

The comment makes you roll your eyes, makes them burn unpleasantly. It doesn’t register whether he's right or not, you don't care. You're not interested. “I get it–  you’re a big hot shot detective and all, and you really like all this perfect picket fence family stuff. But I don’t need you to like be my dad or whatever it is you were hoping to be.” You pause and look between the both of you. “If that wasn’t abundantly clear already…” 

Even you flinch at the comment, but Javier doesn’t budge. His jaw ticks and your heart aches in regret. “That's not what I meant, Bun.” His voice is calm, and gentle, and it makes your eyes sting even more. He takes your silence as an opportunity to continue. “And it’s gonna come all crashin down and then what? Bein so reckless?” 

“You're not fixing anything, okay?” Your grip on his wrists tightens a little, and you harshly let go. “Will you just stop? Just lay off. I know what I'm doing.” You cringe at the sound of your own voice, at how juvenile and childish you’re being despite his kindness. You don't want to deal with whatever he’s trying to bring up. “Just stay out of it.” 

“I know ya are..” you get off your knees, hands still planted on your thighs in an attempt to hoist yourself up to your feet. You try to stand but he pulls you into his lap and you fall forward into his chest with a yelp. His arms tighten around you and you rest your head on his shoulder with your face turned away from him. He rubs your back gently and seems to decide to put a pin in the conversation.  “Bunny baby.” He can probably feel your heart thud against him. 

One of his hands sneaks up your, or rather his, shirt, and he squeezes the flesh of your thigh. “Done gettin all upset with me?” turning his head he places a few kisses against your neck– feather light, and chuckles when you whine and turn your own head to catch his lips with yours. “This what you wanted?” 

“Stubborn brat.” with both hands on your waist he pulls you down against him, your panty clad core meeting his hardness and sending a shiver down your spine. His words make you shiver and you grind down against him. His hand sneaks up and his fingers wrap around your throat– forcing your watery eyes to his. “Was gonna teach ya how to suck some cock, but you’re too much of a brat huh?” 

As he speaks, he reaches between the two of you, freeing his throbbing cock from his shorts and teasing your slit with his tip. Your hips rise and squirm and the grip he has on your throat makes you dizzy. “Need to get fucked silly again? Need me to shut ya up?” 

You can’t respond, just continue to mewl and chase the pleasure of his cock rubbing up against your dripping folds. He teases your tight hole– his head just barely pushing in only to retreat to your clit and leave you clenching around nothing. “Don't worry bunny, gonna teach ya how to shut that mouth right up.”

Your mouth waters at the thought. You bite your lip. You find a steady and sturdy grip on his shoulders and whisper a plea for him to “please daddy– let me” he cuts you off with a spank and sinks the head of his cock in your warm, wet, cunt. “Not today, not when ya givin’ me that attitude”  

“Please daddy-” he cuts you off with another spank, gripping your hips and letting you sink fully onto his cock. “Not another word from that mouth.” his fingers squish your face and he brings you to meet his eyes. “Gonna take what I give ya.” 

He thrusts up into your waiting cunt, holds you in place on his lap and uses you like a doll. “Lucky to be gettin’ my cock after bein’ such a fuckin’ brat” you mewl at the harshness of his words but its all to difficult to concentrate on when you can feel the delicious stretch of his thick cock splitting you open. No time to adjust before his hips are meeting yours with impressive speed. 

The obscene squelching of your wetness and the sound of slapping skin fills the room and sends your eyes rolling back into your head. “Never fuckin listen, do ya?”You call out his name and he grunts, his hand releasing its grip on your face to palm your tit through your t-shirt. His thumb brushes your hard nipple and you can’t help but moan. “Think ya got everything figured out.” 

“Like being a bad girl?” You hate how close you already are, the drag of his cock against your quivering walls has you out of breath despite the fact that you’re not doing any of the work here. “Can feel how bad you wanna cum.” Javi feels you tighten around him and he groans, squeezing the flesh of your thighs and bringing your face down to his for a kiss. 

He lets you lick into his mouth in a silent apology for your tone earlier, doesn’t make you chase his lips and offers them to you with grace. His steady thrusting makes it difficult for you to keep your lips on his but he doesn’t tease you– just continues to fuck into your wet heat till you breath hitches and your reeling forward onto his chest. 

Your hips stutter and your pussy flutters around his cock. Javi groans a string of low curses at the feeling of your cunt milking him. You go dumb and dizzy for a few seconds, your whole body on fire as you ride out your high– prolonged by the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you. A ragged moan escapes your lips as you feel him paint your insides with his hot spend, the aftershocks seizing your body as the two of you simultaneously come down from your high. 

Your chests rise and fall against one another, and Javi moves your legs across his lap so your thighs can catch some respite from the strain of bouncing on his cock. You can’t help but wince when you feel his spend drip onto your thighs. He reaches between your legs and swipes the cut of your pussy, then brings his fingers to your lips and you open them– sucking on his digits gently. Your eyes flutter closed and he pulls his digits from your mouth. He places a kiss on the tip of your nose and you rest your head back against his shoulder. 

There's a few more beats of silence. There's a tension, but not enough for you to peel yourself away from his hold. In fact he's the one to shift under you, you take his place on the armchair and watch as he makes his way towards the bathroom. You glance towards the coffee table and spot the contents of the file. The title reads “Employment Contract: Attache for The United States Federal Drug Enforcement Agency in Colombia.” 

Javier stops in front of the door, he peels his shirt off, and doesn’t turn your way as he speaks. 

“Never mean ya’ any harm, baby Bun.. Just lookin’ out for ya’.” 

— 

Lost inside

Adorable illusion and I cannot hide

I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside

We coulda made it cruising, yeah

La, da, da, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

La, da, da, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

La, da, da, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

Yeah, riding high on love's true bluish light

Thank you so much for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed!! Remember, again very morally dubious and borderline unhealthy relationship here. We are dealing with it in the realm of fiction! Thank you to everyone who comments and engages with my work you keep me writing!! Please let me know what you think!! 💗

[mxtxfanatic]

Why Lan Wangji Endures

I breifly touched on this topic before in this post, but I wanted to go more in-depth with it in combination with this post. When Lan Wangji says this:

"...When I went to see him, I told him, ‘Young Master Wei was already in the wrong, why add onto the wrong committed?’ And he said....... He can’t affirm whether what you did was right or wrong. But no matter what, he was willing to shoulder all of the responsibility together with you...."

—Chapt. 99: A Hatred for Life Part 2, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

...he is not making a statement on the morality of either his or Wei Wuxian's actions. In fact, his opinions about the moral righteousness of their actions are separate from his opinions on his clan's (and the greater cultivation world's) meted-out punishments. Why? Because the rules and laws of the cultivation world are now wholly separate from what is moral, and so Lan Wangji has matched Wei Wuxian in cleaving his sense of morality from what is considered acceptable by the status quo. Lan Wangji cannot confirm to Lan Xichen (or the Lan Clan, or the cultivation world as a whole) whether Wei Wuxian was right or wrong because they are not operating under the same understanding of "right and wrong." At the same time, Lan Wangji's (summarized via Lan Xichen's) speech above is not in conversation with his brother but actually in conversation with Wei Wuxian's speech back in Yiling:

There was no such road. No solution existed. Wei WuXian spoke slowly, “Thank you for keeping me company today. Thank you for telling me the news about my shijie’s marriage too. But, let the self judge the right and the wrong, let others decide to praise or to blame, let gains and losses remain uncommented on. I, too, know what I should and shouldn’t do. I believe that I’ll be able to control it as well.” As if he’d anticipated such an attitude since a long time ago, Lan WangJi nodded slightly and closed his eyes. And that marked their farewell.

—Chapt. 75: Distance, exr

Wei Wuxian was put into a dead-end situation where any act of self-defense or defense of innocents was an automatic crime. In the end, he experienced the ultimate consequence of death because his act of self-defense led to the death of an important individual, a death that was seen as "unforgivable" in the eyes of the cultivation world, unlike the deaths of Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants. Likewise, Lan Wangji's actions in protecting Wei Wuxian against his clan were met with punishment, because even though he had good cause in rescuing the Wen remnants' only protector, going against his clan is "unforgivable" in the eyes of a society ruled by tradition and orthodoxy over morality. This is why Wei Wuxian says that the self must judge the self, and why Lan Wangji is following that creed by enduring the Lan Clan punishment while maintaining an unshakeable belief in Wei Wuxian's righteousness.

It was never about Lan Wangji doubting his or Wei Wuxian's morals. It was never about Lan Wangji putting love above righteousness. It was always about how Lan Wangji so much believed in Wei Wuxian's morality and the righteousness of his actions that he was willing to protect the man when the entire world said he was in the wrong, when his own family stood opposite him. And just like Wei Wuxian eventually accepted the consequences of his actions and used his last moments to attempt to destroy the Stygian Tiger Seal, Lan Wangji, too, endured being whipped 33 times by the discipline whip, then went on to rescue Wen Yuan and raise him and the other Lan disciples with morals so strong that they could transcend the mob mentality that their parents never learned to unsubscribe from. Lan Wangji's steadfastness in the face of the incredible hypocrisy and corruption baked into the system he lived in is why Wei Wuxian is able to resurrect into a world where the new generation can look up to him as a hero and a mentor rather than a scourge and a terror.

This endurance is Lan Wangji's ultimate act of love.

[604to647]

Strawberry Shortcake (part 1 of 2)

4K / Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Summary: You thought working as a cocktail waitress at a strip club would just be a way to make some easy money - you didn't expect to meet him.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Private room shenanigans, longing, ref to f!masturbation, nicknames as always, reader is a single parent (mentioned briefly in the this part), TF boys make a quick appearance!

A/N: In this part, reader only knows Frankie as "Francisco", but for the purpose of the narrative, I refer to him as Frankie most of the time. This came out of nowhere and I wrote it in one day instead of editing the next chapter of SwY 🫣 procrastination fics are a thing, right? Barely proofread, please excuse all my mistakes!

Series Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 🥰 The moodboard Frankie pic is from Pinterest but after a wee bit of sleuthing, I believe it’s a screen grab from this gifset by @uuuhshiny - please correct me if I’m wrong!! 😊

Swaying seductively to the club’s upbeat remix of an old school RnB song you’ve always loved, you hit each bass beat with a little pop of your hip so that you lightly knock your knees into the widespread thighs of the man whose legs you’re dancing in between.  The combined movement lends a little bounce to your naked tits, and as you raise your arms above your head and continue to move to the music, you have to bite your lower lip to prevent from smiling and chuckling.  Even with your eyes closed, you know the man’s large, calloused hands, ever respectful of the private room’s ‘No Touching’ rule, are spread, straining with superhuman restraint and digging into those same meaty thighs that you keep rubbing against.  You might be doing it on purpose.  Afterall, the rule is that he can’t touch, but you can.

Trailing your fingers down through your hair, then down, down along your face and neck until you reach your chest, your hands grab and grope your breasts the way you know the man before you wishes he could.  Letting yourself pretend that your desperate touches are his, you let out a little whimper that’s meant to try his resolve.  As you bend your knees while rolling your hips, the lascivious show you’re putting on is lowered to his eye level, and you continue to palm your tits, rolling and pinching your nipples between your fingers – pretty peaks hardening as the fan of his heavier than usual breath hits them just right.  You know you’re being terribly teasing and unfair, but here in this dimly lit room, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties, you’ve never felt safer.  Or sexier.  And it’s all because of this man.

Francisco.

Never one to break the private room’s cardinal rule, or even cop a feel while out on the main floor, this man is nothing but respectful.  And that makes you wish even more that he would just break – break all the rules and have his way with you.  Touch you.  Grab you.  Manhandle you to his liking and take you right on the faux velvet couch that lines the wall behind him.  With a low and wide swivel of your hips, you ghost over the growing bulge of his jeans and you hear him groan - a deep guttural sound from the back of his throat, and this time you don’t fight the smile that spreads across your face.

Francisco.

He’s probably been your favourite part of working as a club cocktail waitress these past few months.  You have a job as a research assistant that you love, but earlier this Spring, a small accident in the lab led to a temporary closure that had you looking for short-term work – you needed something where the hiring process wasn’t drawn out and that you could quit when the lab reopened without any negative consequences to your career - the waitress opening at The Midnight Palace had fit the bill.  The money was good and the work wasn’t arduous; it wasn’t as if you were one of the onstage dancers who had to perform some of the most incredible feats of acrobatics you’ve ever seen.  Even the later hours turned out to be a blessing, allowing you to spend your now free days with your son, a welcomed opportunity to fill his carefree summer days with activities and play before he started kindergarten in the Fall.  The girls, dancers and waitresses alike were incredibly friendly and welcoming, many of them single moms themselves.  All in all, you think you might even miss the club when the newly renovated lab reopened.  And still, even with all your unexpected fondness for this job, the thing you unequivocally look forward to most when coming in to work is Francisco Morales.

Every two weeks without fail he came in with a group of army buddies on Friday night.  The first time you encountered them had been your second week at the club, amused at how the other girls had been excited for their arrival; the group was known for being fun loving and rowdy, but never disruptive or disrespectful.  And generous - very generous.  As a waitress, your dress code was lingerie of your choice - not any more or less skimpy than what the dancers wore on stage or when they came to the floor for lap dances, but it could invite the occasional butt slap or waist grab from some of the bolder club patrons.  But never Francisco’s group – you served them drink after drink after drink, and they were only ever sweet and charming, nothing more than a polite touch as thanks, and generous with their words of praise and tips to every one of their servers and dancers.  You come to learn that they usually end their evenings with a round or two in the private rooms, sometimes one-on-one, other times as a group.  On that first night, you served the drinks in a private room that the group commandeered with three gorgeous dancers - all giggling and having the time of their lives.  As you put down their drinks, the dark-haired man that you come to think of as the group’s leader, smiled at you with his piercing hooded eyes and laughing, “Hey hunny, why don’t you stay?  We’ll pay for your time and you can keep Fish company.”  He tilted his head back to indicate to his friend who sat a bit further back from the group in a chair, leaning back comfortably, arms crossed, with no stripper to call his own.

You had smiled politely, not sure of your answer even though Tiffany had nodded encouragingly at you; most patrons didn’t know, but any girl could be invited to a private room – not just the dancers.  It was rare for a waitress to spend time in a private room – while there was no obligation, there was some expectation to strip and most waitresses didn’t; when you took the job, you didn’t have any intention of spending any one-on-one time in the private rooms, despite the rate and the tips being quite good. 

As you approach the odd man out to serve him his drink, he gives you an almost bashful shake of his head, as if to say ‘You don’t have to’ – you’re not sure what it is, maybe it was his almost boyishly shy smile, or the glimpse of those soft brown curls you caught when he lifted his cap to nervously run his hands through his hair, but on a whim, you decide to stay.  Afterall, it’s not as if you were alone – there were six other people in the room with you.

Putting his drink down, you slide into the handsome stranger’s lap, perching your scantily clad bum on his thick thigh, you blink bright-eyed and throw him a cheeky grin, “So… you’re a Fish?”  The wholesome chuckle and crinkle of his captivating eyes that follow your question warm your chest more than they should and that’s how you meet Francisco Morales. 

That first night, Frankie spends the remainder of the time that Santi pays for with you in his lap, arm thrown around his neck to keep from slipping off, just talking about nothing and everything.  You learn that the men are old army buddies: Santiago (call sign: Pope), Will (call sign: Ironhead), Ben (no call sign, just Benny because he’s the baby of the group) and of course Francisco, call sign: Catfish.   You giggled at this and Frankie thinks the sound is more than adorable.  You get a chance to run your fingers through the curls at the base of his neck and find them to be as soft as you thought they’d be.  Ultimately, you find yourself spending an inordinate amount of time staring into his warm brown eyes as Frankie tells you about himself and his work as a helicopter pilot and mechanic.  When the little melodic bell chimes to indicate that the private room times are almost up, you can’t believe how fast the time has gone - you leave Francisco with a light kiss on the cheek and thank him for giving your tired feet a rest.

Two weeks later he returns and asks for a private room slot with just you.  And again, two weeks after that.  And again, and again – now a regular occurrence for the past few months, every time the boys came in to the club.  Your time in the private room with Francisco is comfortable, fun, flirty, and always, always safe.  A man of honour, he never touches you - his hands stay by his sides, on the table or on his own body, but never yours.  With time, you give yourself permission to be bold, growing more and more unrestrained with your touches. 

Taking off his cap, you’ll card your hands through his hair and lightly massage Frankie’s scalp – the first time you did this, you earned a soft ‘Baby’ from his plush lips that had your face feeling hotter than hot.  It fills you with something akin to pride and possessiveness that you know those same lips are pillow soft - you’ve run your fingers over them a hundred times, just as you have his cheekbones and jaw line, tracing over every firm line of his handsome face with featherlight strokes.  Nothing compares to feeling of his cheeks cupped in your soft hands as you scratch his patchy scruff, except maybe the swell of your chest when this affectionate gesture secures you another nickname, hermosa. 

But by far, your favourite nickname comes during your third time together.  Having looped both your arms around Frankie’s neck after making him laugh with a funny observation about a TV show you both watch, he closes his eyes once his laughter subsides and murmurs, “You smell like strawberries.”  Giggling, you confess that it’s the glitter gel you borrow from one of the dancers; you were still too new to the club scene to have any of your own body glitter, but you liked the smell of this one so you kept borrowing it and Sasha didn’t seem to mind. 

“Smells good, baby,” Frankie declares, “That’s my favourite dessert, you know?  And you’re just as sweet, Shortcake.”  Shortcake.  The petname had stuck and made you feel giddy every time the endearment slipped from his lips.  You don’t tell him that when you have to buy body wash the following week, you choose a strawberry scented one on purpose.

Sometimes your time with Frankie feels almost like taking an unsanctioned break – some misguided concept of proper work ethic finds you volunteering to dance for him even though it’s not in your job description; to both your delight, you discover you actually enjoy it, greedily drinking in Frankie’s lustful gaze as his eyes follow every dip of your waist and sway of your hips.  More recently, you’ve progressed to massaging his tense shoulders and back when he tells you about his rough days at work; as you push and pull at the corded muscles under his shirt, the deep rumbling groan that drops from his chest shoots straight between your legs and you can’t help but salivate at the idea of making him feel good in other ways.

But most of the time, you simply sit in Frankie’s lap, the two of you chatting and getting to know each other as if you were just two people that met under totally normal circumstances and found the other to be attractive.  You learn that he’s kind and giving, and he makes you laugh so very easily – some nights your face hurts a little from smiling so much, content to just listen to Frankie talk while absentmindedly rubbing his large, paw of a hand with your much smaller ones.

You think about his laugh and the way his entire chest shakes with it all the time.  On the nights between his visits to the club, you go home and think about his soulful eyes and the way they can flicker from a soft puppy dog look to a darkened, gripping expression of want with just a single touch from you.  After the nights you spend with him, he stars in all of your bedtime fantasies and you come to his imagined touch, hard and desperate with his name curling over your lips.  You wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.  If he would smile at you in the morning daylight the way he does when you kiss his cheek goodbye in the dark private room, all soft and almost disbelieving.  You wonder if he ever thinks about you at all outside of your nights together at the club.  You try not to let yourself get too lost in your longing for what might never be, but as the summer goes on, you start to ache for him, missing the little you have of him every day between your rendezvous.

Sadly, as much you cherish the time with Francisco in your little bubble within the safety of the club’s private room, you know it’s a fantasy that can’t last.  While Frankie knows you have a separate career outside of the club, he doesn’t know that your time together is nearly up.  The original timeline for the lab to be ready was end of summer, but an email you received last week indicated that the renovations were ahead of schedule and all lab and research staff could expect to return to work soon, though the exact date was yet to be fixed.  You don’t say anything to him - unwilling to spoil the mood of your limited remaining time together, and moreover, unwilling to broach the topic of what this is and if it could be anything else.  Anything more. 

Afraid, really, of what Francisco’s answer may be.

You have a feeling that your call back to work will come any day now, and that’s how you find yourself in the position you’re in now: topless and gyrating, cunt positively dripping while you touch your breasts salaciously for Francisco’s enjoyment.  Earlier tonight, when he had you sitting on his lap like that first time, the two of you drowning in the other’s eyes and longing looks, you had realized just how much you were going to miss him when you left.  The thought that this might be the last time you’re able have Frankie like this - all to yourself, able to soak in his adoring gaze while drawing a deep sigh of contentment from his chest as you study the strong features of his face, makes you bold and brave.  You rise and stand in between his legs, tilting his face up with your fingers so he looks at you while you reach behind and start to unclasp your bra.

“Hermosa, you don’t have t-” Frankie starts to protest, not sure where this might be coming from.  He’s been perfectly happy with how the two of you have been spending your private room time together.  In no way has Frankie ever wanted you to feel like he was pushing for more than you were giving him.  He won’t pretend that he doesn’t dream about your soft curves and the way your gorgeous figure nearly spills from the drool worthy lingerie you always wear; his nights alone in bed are spent imagining how you might feel writhing underneath him, what sounds he could pull from you while he explores your body – he’s willing to bet you taste sweeter than the strawberry scent that always seems to linger on his skin after he visits you.  But here in this room, it’s only the pleasure of your company and the opportunity to make you laugh and smile that he will ask from you.

Pressing a finger to his lips, you assure him, “Shhhhhh, Francisco.  I want to.  You’ve been so good to me these last few months.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the way you make me feel so special – it’s been a long time since anyone has made me feel this way.”

“Baby, I want to make you feel special everyday,” breathes Frankie.

You sigh, “And you’re so respectful.  I appreciate it so much, baby.  Please. Let me show you how much I appreciate you.”  Letting your lacy black bra fall to the ground, you watch as Frankie’s pupils dilate until his eyes turn jet black with want, jaw dropping.

“Holy fuck, Shortcake,” Frankie practically growls, “you’re even more gorgeous than I imagined.”  His unblinking gaze lingering over your pert and bouncy curves, bare and presented for him – a sight he didn’t even dare allow himself to dream.

Cocking your head to the side, you can’t help but feel your heart burst at his admission, “You think about me, Francisco?”

“All the time, baby,” there’s no use playing coy with you, not when you’re so perfect and vulnerable before him.  Frankie manages to tear his eyes away from your nearly nude body only to be met with what he thinks is the most beautiful sight on Earth, you smiling at him sweetly, radiating pure happiness.  Did he do that?  Did he make you happy?  He can’t help but feel a burst of pride - he wants to do it again and again.

Almost shyly, you tease, “Would you let me dance for you?”

Finding himself at a loss for words, Frankie can only assent with a quick nod before he watches, mesmerized, as you start to sway you body to the beat of the music pouring in from outside the private room; every line and dip of your figure moves rhythmically as if to hypnotize him.  Frankie doesn’t know how long you dance, but every brush of your legs against his causes his dick to twitch and he has to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from moaning.  When you move your hands to cup those perfect breasts of yours, he stares as you fondle and play with your nipples and thinks he might actually rip holes in his jeans with how hard he’s digging his fingers into his legs.  He’s painfully hard and he wants to touch you so bad.  But, of course he won’t.  You trust him not to cross that line, and he would never want you to feel anything but perfectly safe with him.

When you finally open your eyes, you see Frankie gazing at you - eyes glued to your face with an almost pained look of reverence, devotion etched into the handsome features of his face and it makes your heart sing.  “Francisco,” you tut playfully, “I finally get half naked for you, and you’re looking at my face?”

“Prettiest view in the room, Shortcake.”

“Oh, baby,” you purr, and then as if taking off your top for him wasn’t bold enough, you close the little distance left between your bodies and kiss him.  Soft and tentative at first, but when you feel Frankie’s mouth chase yours for more, the kiss quickly becomes needy, hungry.  Frankie’s hands remain on his legs, so you touch him for the both of you – running your hands through his soft hair, you cradle his head in your palms and tip his face to yours, pulling him up so you can press your lips more greedily to his.  Frankie’s tongue finds yours and he matches its every brush and stroke with equal fervour; as he map the inside of your mouth, the needy groans that vibrate from the back of your throat make his teeth rattle and his heart soar.  You gasp for air, but don’t take in enough because you can’t bear to be parted from his perfect, plush mouth – trading air for the dizziness that comes with the way Frankie devours you.  You kiss him like it’s everything you’ve been wanting to do for the last few months because it is; you kiss him like it’s the last time because it might be.

You break apart to the chime of the bell that warns the private rooms that their sessions are almost over.  Arms still around Frankie’s neck, you’re flattened against him – your knees pressed against his groin where you can feel his hard cock straining against his pants, your now heaving breasts tucked right beneath his chin, but he only has eyes for your face – the two of you grinning like lovestruck fools, though Frankie swears your eyes look a little sad.

“Time’s almost up, Francisco,” you whisper.  Backing away, you grab your bra from where it fell earlier and thread your arms through the straps.  Turning, you hold the cups to your chest and throw over your shoulder, “Do you mind?”

Wordlessly, Frankie expertly hooks your bra closed; when the backs of his thick fingers brush against your skin to buffer the snap of the band, that iota of contact sends an electrical current straight to your throbbing core.  And just when you think that’s all you’ll ever have of Francisco’s touch, you feel it: a soft, tender kiss to your lower back.  It’s so sweet you have to choke back a sob. 

Leaving him at the curtain to the room, you kiss his cheek lightly as you always do.

“See you next time, Shortcake.”

“Goodnight, Francisco.”

As if you were clairvoyant, the call from your old job comes the following Wednesday, and by that Friday you’ve worked your last shift at The Midnight Palace.  Saying goodbye to your co-workers, you know you’ll genuinely miss them and truly hope to keep in touch.

You wrestle briefly with leaving Francisco a message, but the truth is, you don’t know what you’d say or what you’d be asking for.  What you shared in the private room had seemed so precious and real, but was it really?  Could it ever survive in the real world?  The real world of kids, and long work days, and mundane chores?  If the magic of your time together with Frankie was marred by reality or if he never even responded, your fantasy of him would be shattered and then you wouldn’t even have the memory of him.  So, selfishly and somewhat cowardly, you opt to keep your little fantasy of Francisco for yourself and your lonely nights, and you leave knowing that in a week’s time he’ll show up and find you gone. 

The return to work is unremarkable and your schedule quickly normalizes to what it was before the lab incident; you’re happy to see your team again and easily delve back into the work you enjoy.  The remainder of the summer passes quickly, and before you know it, the first day of kindergarten is upon you.

Walking hand in hand with your son, you can’t help shedding a few tears seeing your child take this monumental step.  He’s nervous, but is taking a lot of big kid pride in being brave like you talked about.  After helping him find his cubby and putting his backpack away, you step into the hallway to say your last goodbyes as the teacher has instructed.

Burying his face in your neck, your son murmurs, “I love you, mama,” before striding confidently back into the classroom, waving back to your tearful, “I love you, Ray-ray! See you after school!”

Behind you, you hear the sniffles of a young girl who is having a little more difficulty separating from her parent; the low rumble of her father whispering words of reassurance and love transition to a louder and clear, “I’m proud of you, mija!” as the little girl walks tentatively towards the open door of the classroom.

That voice.  That calm, deep baritone is oddly familiar to you but you can’t quite place it.  You might puzzle over it a little if it wasn’t for your son reaching out his hand to the little girl at that moment and saying, “Hi!  I’m Raynor!  I’m in your class!” and the little girl smiling back wide, “Hi Raynor!  I’m Valentina!” before they walk hand-in-hand towards their new teacher.

Proud of your son and slightly relieved that he might have just made his first friend, you turn around to beam at the father of the little girl. 

You can only imagine the look of brief recognition quickly giving way to shock that the tall, good-looking man gives you, mirrors your own.  How was this possible?

Francisco.

Part 2

[asterrv0iid]

Wattpad fic ad 🕷️🖤

Hello! I'm writing a wattpad fanfic about Katsuki Bakugou x female reader. the fic is called arachnoid 🥹 and theres currently only about 15-16 parts. right now, im writing about the sports festival and i already have a good idea of what im going to do for the internships. but to give you a better idea of what the fic is about ill give a little summary for you 🖤🕷️

Starting off with your quirk!!

Your quirk is basically like spiderman 2099 & miles morales combined snd some extra powers i added. If you don't know them from atsv, ill give you a quick rundown of some of the abilities they have !!

So starting off with some basic spiderman powers. Peter parker has the ability to generate webs from his wrists, and so do you. But in the story, theres a little twist. You can obviously swing around and hold massive amounts of weight, but you can also form objects with a lot of firmly packed webs. It takes a lot of energy out of you though.

Spiderman also has the skill of sticking to walls and ceilings. Or just any surface that gravity doesnt allow the normal human being to stay upright on. So of course you have that included with your quirk !!

Let's not forget about the spidey sense. Spidey sense is basically just a 6th sense for telling if danger is near, and where it is coming from. But in my fic, when youre either overwhelmed and worked up or really focused on something, your brain kind of turns off the ability to sense danger. But farther into the story you'll be able to multitask.

Okay moving onto the powers you have that are similar to Miles Morales! So we know that he can turn camouflage or turn invisible, and that he has electricity powers. Now you might not have the electricity ability he has, but if you hold your breath, you can turn invisible snd camouflage into any surface.

Okay couple more things about the benefits of your quirk im pretty sure. Venom immobilization. I added the power to immobilize an opponent by protracting your fangs and emitting an immobilizing venom into someone. Yes you have to bite them for it to work, and yes it can be inconvenient. 😭

Next is how you can generate 6 extra limbs and 6 extra eyes, giving you 8 of each. So like an actual spider, you have the skill to grow six extra arms out of your shoulder blades like Shoji :) (he's such a sweetheart i love him) but also you can grow 8 eyes to enhance your range if vision and also the ability of night vision, since spiders are mainly nocturnal.

Okay i think thats it for your quirk but now its time for backstory !!

Basically the fic stated that you have an identical twin brother, Koji L/n, and both parents present. It starts off with it being the day of your brother's birthday party. Your neighbors down the street, The Bakugou family, show up to introduce themselves.

Shortly after the party ended, your brother Koji went missing, then was pronounced deceased and left a cold case. Your mother thought another baby would be enough to distract her from the loss of her child. It ended up adding more pressure onto her so she left.

You were forced into growing up too fast having to raise your little sister to the best of your ability as your dad slowly turned into a deadbeat. As you were about to finish your last year of middle school, a biy introduced himself to you and he ended up being your boyfriend for a short amount of time.

He scarred and traumatized you for life and you promised yourself to not show vulnerability and naivety towards anyone ever again, until a special someone weaseled back into your life.

Hopefully you like this story as it continues on! The link unfortunately isnt working for me, or maybe im just stupid. But my user on wattpad is 'astervoiid' and the fic is called 'Arachnoid || K.B. x reader'

Thanks so much for reading! Posting this in hopes it gets more reads and plot suggestions! Have a good day xx 🖤🕷️🕸️

[pleaseinsertwittyurl]

Armageddon 2.0

okay. I'm 100% sure people have had this thought but I haven't seen it and I'm in an era of extreme hyperfixation and need the thoughts out of my mind.

-spoiler for the book but, Crowley mentions the next iteration of the end of the world probably being Angels and Demons "against" humans

-we then get the line about Adam stealing the apple and that there was never a fruit not worth the trouble you get into for eating it

-to my knowledge, no angel, nor demon, ever ate from that tree

Then there's season 2 and all it revealed

-Crowley and Aziraphale tried to do a tiny half miracle and ended up performing one so powerful it could bring back 25 dead guys

-Gabriel and Beelzebub are now (the 2nd) angels and demons who found the good in each other

So...

The theory bouncing around in my head that I physically need to put into words is that the Metatron thinks they know the plan. Big mistake as far as matters of god are concerned. They will instruct Aziraphale according to their own ideas in an attempt to finally defeat Hell. Az obviously will push back and rely on his own morality and the other person who shares it.

Enter cockamamie plan held together by strings and wishful thinking. (Muriel has grown fond of Crowley and is easily swayed to assist.) Big dramatic show down time. Az and Crowley deliver some heartfelt remarks about acceptance, change, the real line between good and evil existing within us all. Many are moved on both sides, surely many are not. Does a fight break out? Probably but it doesn't last long. Our "boys" point to the humans, prompting some disgust and perhaps unity in the desire to end the hubbaloo about them, but that's not the point! No, look: how beautiful the things they make when they work together, how awful the things they do when they're divided, perhaps they were not ours to influence, but the other way around. They were the test, and if we cannot learn from their mistakes, we've failed. No creature is all good or all bad. The bee that makes sweet honey has a dreadful sting, the nightingales that sing sweet melodies must kill the worm to feed itself. It's all about our choices, what we make of the circumstances we find ourselves in. Finding the balance. Free will.

So knowing how strong they are when they combine their powers, they are the ones who must decide what happens to the world and everything else. They have to decide whether to destroy it, each other, Heaven and Hell, or maybe...even...god? After all, the best thing a parent can hope for is to raise children who no longer need their guidance, but who have learned how to make the right decisions on their own, learned how to thrive without them, who can decide if the stolen fruit will be worth the trouble they may get into for taking it.

And that's all I've got. There are different directions I could see these theories going in and I've kinda combined several thoughts that have occurred to me so it got a bit messy but I can't pin down exactly where my mind wants to go so I'm not, I just let the bitch go and this is what we got.

I'd love to hear other opinions, theories, etc so please feel free to share! I'm deeeeep in the hyperfixation so conversation is my nourishment right now, and also i may have started writing a fic last night based on my vision for s3e1.

Help.

[pigeonpeach]

I’m sick right now so the brain fog combined with writersblock is kicking my ass creatively :(

So enjoy cat parent drabbles once more

Chiori’s latest “pet fashion line” was seemingly inspired by the various dressed up poodles and pooches of Fontaine catering to owners who wanted to take photos of their kitties dolled up as well. But in reality a local cat that had taken a liking to her shop just seemed so perfect as a mannequin. Perfectly sat and arched, paws together as it would watch her work on her sewing machine and fuss through fabrics and matching threads. Well it had been a slow day and her gaze had turned to the very cat that had been her moral support recently. She occasionally fed the little kitty but it just seemed to like her work more. She knew it had a owner by the collar on its neck, but maybe she could try her hand at “pet fashion.”

This led to you being very confused about the random little dress your kitty came back in. Although it was a nice dress.

Neuvillettes kitty was given to him as a gift a concerned employee who worried about the constant rainfall as of late. They gifted to him a extra kitten of theirs as a gift and since then it had been clear sunny skies! Neuvillette is fond of small creatures with big beady eyes and big personalities. He initially thought all cats were introverted and independent. However his kitty despite having outgrown the kitten rank, still clings to him like a baby. Greeting him everyday with loud meows. The kitty itself is a beloved resident of Fontaine, guards keep a close eye on it, recognizing it by its collar, so no that no criminals may seek to get back at him. However his kitty may be a little criminal. Responsible for the poor potted plant massacre on the street nearby, and the robbery of a local fish stand. However its antics are amusing to the locals. How ironic is it that the very beacon of justice owns a most mischievous cat. In the end he paid for new pots and for the fish, deciding to keep his kitty firmly indoors, taking it out on occasional walks to satiate its adventurous tendencies. Often the melusines will “walk” the kitty or baby sit the kitty. They’re very fond of the kitty and the kitty is also fond of them because they tend to spoil it with extra fish.

Scaramouche is surprisingly a cat magnet. His hat is umbrella for many creatures in the rain sure. But he genuinely has no clue why the kitties of Sumeru seem to just like him. He has checked to see if catnip is somewhere on his person but there is none. Its not the fabric, he hasn’t fed them. They just simply like him. Oh well. It is nice because they are rather pleasant company. They aren’t annoying with their questions or usual student issues. A cat simply meows at him to get his attention. Easy. Although he rarely admits he actually does enjoy their company and has started to feed them.

Xiao also doesn’t own a cat but the cats at the inn recognize him. Specifically Gold’s Tuxedo kitty. It seems to wait for him next to his plate of Almond Tofu and sits there as he eats. He isn’t sure why it does but he doesn’t mind its presence. He is too worried his karma will taint the kitty if he pets it however so he rarely does pet it. Lucky for him it isn’t the affectionate type and seems to like just staring off into the scenery next to him.

Cloud Retainer is most certainly the type to take in animals. So when she notices a stray kitten looking skinny and lonely she immediately takes it upon herself to take it in. Unsuccessfully tries to locate its mother. Deciding to raise it herself. Besides, shenhe and ganyu are old now and don’t visit her as often as she’d like, it’d do her some good to have a little companion to deal with her empty nest issues.

The skinny kitten becomes a very very very chonky cat nowadays. She has several gadgets dedicated to help the kitty work out so it isn’t quite lazy or overweight… but she can’t help but prepare plenty of food for the kitty. Specially crafted dishes specifically to appeal to a feline diet. It is a very friendly cat, known for greeting guests with a deep meow and a demand for affection. They say that petting the cat is a way to get on her good side!

That’s all for today I’m now going to cough my lungs up u

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Fic Author Self Rec! When you get this reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, or some snippets from upcoming WIPS. Let’s spread the self-love! Love ya and thank you for all you do!! 💖

My top favorites from my own repertoire?

In no particular order, I guess I'd say:

little favors The first idea for a fic that made me want to start writing for Xiaolin Showdown! I'd seen the idea for Omi being there for Chase during his moment of weakness in the Heylin Eclipse, and I wanted to try exploring it myself. It was fun getting to write Omi's action scenes from an outside perspective, and getting to hint at how brutal and visceral the hatred between Hannibal and Chase was.

Plus, the Sun Chi Lantern was criminally underutilized in the show, so having Omi get to use it to combine his chi with Chase's and use those Heylin water powers again was a lot of fun!

letting off steam

I really wanted to write some emotional catharsis to everything Omi went through in Omi Town, especially since he still ended the episode crying over the robot's body. I'm really proud of how I did it! The water power on display was fun to plan out, but the part I'm proudest of is Omi and Chase's conversation at the start.

“…They were the only parents I ever had. I thought they were a part of me. I thought I finally had someone who was a part of me. I wanted to do right by them. I… I wanted them to want me this time. I did not need them to be warriors or good parents. I just needed them to want me back. I just wanted a name.”

growing pains and acquired tastes

My longest fic to date. I love rereading this one, I really like the language and writing style I used for it, and it's a more serious exploration of some of Omi's time as a cat under Chase. Got to hint at a lot of things about Chase's past and way of thinking in here, too!

Second Prisoner

I wanted to write a story where Chase teaches Omi how to waterboard for the longest time, the idea came to me and I just had to. Dangerous Minds made for the perfect setting to test it out in! "We captured out first prisoner" really made me want to give them a second one together! I'm really glad I got to touch on the more dubious, morally grey aspects of the things Chase teaches Omi!

Paper Tigers

Some fun and lighthearted featuring Omi bonding with the fallen warriors! It was just as fun to write as it is for me to reread.

And here's a snippet from an upcoming WIP that may someday be finished:

Target of the game apparently forgotten, Omi’s Heylin opponent was raising his weapon and aiming at something else.

With a strength born of centuries spent under Hannibal’s thumb, Guan charged forward as if this challenge was a melee, moving faster than he should have been able to underwater. With his attention torn away from his easy shot at their mark, Omi floundered clumsily in an attempt at evasion.

Chase reached out to him and tried to guide him a little more smoothly, at least.

The water didn’t stir.

With a scream that should have been muffled by the water but scraped Chase’s ears anyway, Omi’s weapon was knocked from his hands. Blood oozed out from the fresh wound where Omi had just barely not dodged far enough. Flecks of dark red stained the water in ribbons.

Chase punched the crystalline walls of the orb he was encircled in. His bloodied knuckles smeared against the impossible, unbreakable barrier. The blockade still didn’t crack. Chase punched it against anyway. And again. He wanted this whole liminal arena to burst apart and drain, but for the first time in his life—no, the second— the great Chase Young was apparently powerless to do anything.

“Hey, hey, easy, Chase,” Hannibal called. “You know the rules. Outsider interference is strictly forbidden. Don’t be such a killjoy. You wanna fancy water show? The one in the showdown has to do it for himself.”

Chase’s forehead pressed against the glassy surface, and his fist slipped open and slid down against the barrier as he sunk to his knees with a helpless groan, then a furious growl.

“I’ll kill you,” Chase promised Hannibal through gritted teeth.

Hannibal just yawned, teary-eyed with sheer boredom. “Yeah, yeah, yap all you want, boy. You clearly ain’t doin’ a thing at the moment though. So how ‘bout we just sit back, chat, and enjoy the show for now?”

[adriansvetozaroff]

Two men on one long journey home

I collected everything that is important to remember about my SW OCs and decided to share it.

Lamarr was born on the 21st of the 10th month in 44 BBY, on Cato Neimoidia (he was 26 years old at the beginning of the "Outlanders" story).

- He can be called a hedonist. He values comfort and pleasure and avoids discomfort and pain with all his might. He tries to buy things that combine beauty with convenience, but sometimes he cannot refuse something simply beautiful. When he wants to express his feelings and give a gift to someone close, he will make a choice based on the same criteria

- Looking good is important to him. He is a neat person who pays a lot of attention to personal care, uses expensive products for this, tries to monitor his health and will always be happy to spend money on new clothes, shoes or accessories - such purchases usually lift his spirits. He feels uncomfortable without clothes, especially when someone looks at his body, although he knows that he is in good shape and does not consider himself unattractive. He prefers not to undress completely unless necessary, even for sex, remaining at least in a light tunic or robe

- He is very erudite, which he openly likes to boast about; he has always taken his education very seriously and made progress in it. For a long time he considered himself a careerist until he became disillusioned with what he had achieved, but before that, his focus on improving his knowledge and true interest in his work allowed him to reach his goal and, at a very young age, get a job in the Ministry of Environmental Protection. Colleagues recognized him as a promising scientist. Success turned into moral pain for him when he had to assess the damage that the war had caused to his home planet, and, as it soon turned out, it was work in vain. He also had a very hard time with temporary problems with concentration and mental functions caused by stress. The voluntary decision to give up everything, leave and accept a temporary job that did not correspond to his potential and ambitions was still a strong blow to his self-esteem. But he did not lose his ability to be goal-oriented when a job comes along that can ignite his enthusiasm, greatly engage him, and in which he can express himself intellectually

- In his youth, he had pet red mantises, given by his parents for his first outstanding academic achievements. He was breeding them for a long time and loved to observe their habits. Now he no longer wants to keep someone in captivity, but since those years he has retained his love for nature and interest in studying it. At the same time, no matter how much he admired the natural features of Cato Neimoidia, after leaving he hardly spoke about his homeland and for seven years he could not even entertain the thought of returning home

- Usually he is reasonable and calm, open to dialogue, and does not like conflicts in a raised voice. If he sees that the interlocutor is on edge and showing aggression, he will not talk further and will simply leave. He tries not to show his emotions and is sincerely perplexed when someone pays attention to them - in his opinion, these are just temporary reactions that pass, and there is no point in discussing them if they do not interfere with doing the right things. If it happens that he cannot control himself in the presence of someone, he asks these unwitting witnesses to pretend that they do not see anything like this

- He also does not like to be told anything about his attempts to drown out strong feelings with alcohol. After moving to the capital, he developed obsessive fears of encountering hostility, as well as doubts about how much the pleasure he received would be worth the effort, if it was temporary, and he was unlikely to ever be truly happy again. Alcohol was then the only way for him to “turn off his head” and still dare to make new acquaintances or something else. Sometimes these obsessive thoughts still make themselves felt, but he doesn’t want to tell anyone about them

- He values personal space and does not like touching, especially spontaneous ones. He has difficulties if his partner is accustomed to much more active tactile communication and needs it. Out of habit, he may unconsciously recoil or tense up, and then explain that he did not want to offend anyone. He himself, of course, can enjoy a hug or a massage if it is done by someone he already trusts, but he needs to be constantly reminded of tactile needs so that he takes the initiative, or be told directly what is expected of him now

- He can hardly be called experienced in relationships. On Cato Neimoidia, he had several short-term interests, both women and men, but at that time his career was a priority, and he did not plan anything serious with anyone. However, he never felt insecure about it

- He loves money and handles it wisely; he will always take the opportunity to bargain for the best price and avoid unnecessary expenses. This doesn't mean he'll skimp on himself or those he loves—after all, there's no point in money unless it's spent on things that make life more enjoyable

- He is a reinsurer who will never take unreasonable risks, will always find out all the circumstances, analyze the situation, find opportunities to take care of safety and, after weighing everything, choose the optimal solution. Also, protecting loved ones from problems or warning against risky actions is his form of care. In this he tries not to be intrusive, he simply gives reasonable arguments. Of course, he takes on organizational issues related to the filming of a travel show, and this is not a burden to him

- He gives the impression of a rather sociable person, with a sense of humor and self-irony, but behind this he hides a strong fear of being rejected because of his species and the suspicion that the good attitude towards him is not sincere

Sheeku was born on the 15th of the 3rd month in 42 BBY, on Coruscant (at the beginning of the story he was 24 years old and had never been to the homeland of his species)

- He was a dreamer since childhood, and fell into despair if his dreams could not be realized. When, after an advanced knee injury, he could no longer dance, he seemed to give up and chose to go with the flow, letting his family decide for him, but continued to keep his dreams secret - mainly about freedom, adventure, popularity and relationships with someone reliable, who will sincerely believe in him. Now, when working on a travel show, he does not hesitate to give free rein to his imagination and is responsible for creative ideas

- Dancing is his true passion, which flares up as soon as he hears music. This had been the case since childhood, but his parents insisted that he should take a more reliable path and, together with his sister, take over the family business. Having reached adulthood, he decided to try to go his own way and began to study dancing, while simultaneously continuing to master a technical specialty. This was not easy for him, unlike those who had been practicing since childhood, but for the sake of his dream he did not give up, took additional training and continued to practice in his free time, despite the pain and chronic fatigue. Through exhausting work and perseverance, he was able to achieve recognition; for two years he performed at the Duros Cultural Center, as part of a show ballet. Several times, in order not to miss the opportunity to perform, he hid the fact that he was injured, danced under painkillers, which led to serious health consequences and the loss of the opportunity to participate in tours

- He is very talkative, especially compared to others of his species. In communication, it is easy for him to initiate a conversation and take a more active position - this allows him to be the center of attention in companies, he loves this very much. At the same time, he is open, sincere and clearly shows emotions, which he often expresses in actions - he can, out of joy, spontaneously throw a party at his own expense with someone he barely knows, or suddenly belt out a sad song for everyone to hear, feeling disappointed. Usually he is not embarrassed of this, but he is frankly ashamed of those cases when he, in anger, went to fight with someone who hurt him

- He has impulses to selflessly fight for what he considers right, which border on self-destruction. At such moments, he easily runs into trouble or assault if left unchecked - for example, this happened when he participated in unauthorized rallies and other protests, advocating for equality, against speciesism and oppression. He is also eager to aggressively stand up for someone who is dear to him, without understanding how risky this can be. But he can be reassured by someone he trusts enough if takes him aside, hugs him, and talks to him, understanding his position but expressing concern for his fate

- Routine depresses him; it is important for him to dilute his life with new impressions. He is interested in other cultures, and he knew how to find opportunities to get acquainted with the art of different peoples, regularly attending concerts, performances, exhibitions, festivals and other events on Coruscant. An evening with good music is the best way for him to take his mind off his problems and get a boost of energy

- He remains resentful of his parents for allegedly caring too much about his future and not giving him the opportunity to learn to make decisions and face real difficulties. Because he was drawn into the family business as if his fate was already predetermined from birth, he felt as if they did not believe in him and were convinced that he could not achieve anything on his own. He believes that because of this he grew up impulsive and not practical enough. In addition, he categorically does not want to live like his family, constantly in need of money due to attempts to expand the business and not very skillful investments

- His relationship with his younger sister is not the best. In addition to the usual jealousy, because of which in childhood they often quarreled and fought, they have mutual condemnation: she considers him spoiled, and his claims to his parents are infantile, he cannot stand her tough character and thinks that she deliberately says offensive things to him, knowing about his vulnerability. However, they are able to forget grievances for a while and simply act if necessary to help each other. His sister has a habit of calling him Grub, especially when she is angry or wants to shame him. This infuriates him, but he no longer tries to deal with her stubborn behavior

- Several generations of his family have been born and lived their entire lives on Coruscant, and yet he believes that the capital has never become his home. According to his feelings, this is a fussy, uncomfortable planet, where almost no one cares about each other, and humans do everything so that representatives of other species feel out of place here. Despite all the great opportunities that the capital potentially opens up, he does not like it and would like to leave it forever one day. He believed that he could settle in one of the cities that orbited Duro and successfully build his life there. His family did not share his admiring dream of visiting their home planet, considering its condition and the need to build orbital cities a disgrace of their species, but he does not agree with them and looks at these constructions as a unique creation and part of their culture

- He likes jewelry made from medical metal, and when it comes to clothing, he prioritizes comfort. He is ironic about the manner in which pilots and astronavigators wear jumpsuits everywhere, boasting about their profession and the achievements of their species in these areas. He himself prefers a jumpsuit as the most comfortable clothing for sexual adventures - just unzip one zipper to find himself naked and surrender to the process completely, with the opportunity to receive pleasure with the whole his body

- He likes to have fun and cheer up others, and tends to make fun of his loved ones. He can be sarcastic and sharp-tongued, but not with those he loves. If some joke on a close one accidentally turns out to be rude, he gets very upset and wishes to sink into the ground, and having calmed down somewhat, he tries to do something to make amends. The feeling that he, even inadvertently, offended someone who is dear to him is unbearable for him. Making new acquaintances, he tries as best he can to show respect for other person’s feelings, hoping that in return his feelings will also be spared

- The only thing he is not ready to talk about is his past relationships. His partners cheated on him, and he is ashamed of both this fact and the necessary admission that after the breakup he recklessly indulged in casual relationships, using physical intimacy as an escape from feelings of loneliness

There are several things that unite them:

- curiosity, thirst for new experiences

- aestheticism, love of art

- attentiveness and respect in communication

- the belief that trust develops gradually

- willingness to speak directly and discuss everything that is important

I heard a good phrase: "The road home begins the moment you leave." This is right how their story began - with the decision to leave the place where each of them was born and raised. After meeting each other, they, feeling like outlanders everywhere, risked going on a long journey in order to find one day together a place that they could call a real home. And it’s not just literally about the road and finding own place, but also about the development of their relationship.

By the way, their birth dates are not random - they are partly the dates when I first drew each of them.

[chaotic-french-fries]

What I have so far is:

Eggman (or another mad scientist of the Robotnik family laying around idk) starts experimenting with biology again.

But, of course, he isn't about to make the mistake of attempting a new Ultimate Lifeform, they have all already seen what could go wrong, plus Shadow seems to have a very nice free will. Instead – not very smartly, because it's practically the same – he starts to experiment on gene combinations, to create life without the need of a mother and all that, just to pairs of dna to combine and he'd be all good to go.

The difference with this method is that he can make them any age, using some of the notes Gerald left behind and combining them with this new strategy, he could develop the new enhanced tiny human into a baby within a month, and with a few adjustments he could have a fully functional 10 years old by the third month.

He can spare himself the trouble of taking care of a baby and waiting 10+ years until they have the age to be trained, while still being young enough for him to raise with his own ideals.

He experiments with a couple of gene pairs before going for the final goal, first he choses two girls, Blaze and Amy, since he considers their personalities and strengths would make for a nicely talented child, whilst keeping them not much of a threat if it doesn't go as planned.

Then he goes for Rouge and Knuckles, wanting to see how much he can keep of the personalities of each recipient, if it even is possible, since he's met rouge and she has a pretty strong sense of self, so far as he can tell. Plus Knuckles sense of loyalty and duty, and his strenght.

Lastly, the one he was going on to begin with, the actual Ultimate Lifeform and the most powerful being on Earth, Shadow and Sonic. He is kind of scared of this kid, as both Sonic and Shadow have a marked sense of justice and independence, and have both been capable of easily taking him in a fight single handedly before.

His suspicions would prove right as this last kid, just three months younger than the other two "successful" experiments, had caused major problems to him (sonadow's kid would end up more rebellious than the other two, who had until then listened to Eggman without much as a complaint and the occasional foul language from rougeknux's kid). They would break into their “father”'s office, find the documents, early projects on non-humaniod birds and lizards, and basically deaf the other two into a mini-revolution.

They blow everything up and run away, sonadow's kid finds out they are way faster and stronger then anyone should be, specially not someone of their build (a bit short, average weight, but zero muscle). They eventually bump into Tails and he can tell right away this kids are not normal, sonadow's kid recognizes him from one of the discarded gene ideas, and Tails takes them to his lab to make tests, and present them to Sonic & Co.

Turns out, biologically, this kids are quite literally every couples children, they just, didn't spawn naturally. Sonic makes a comment like "creepy" cause honestly it is, before asking who is parents of whom, because they can definitely not abandon a bunch of confused 10 y.o's.

Tails tells them, Blazeamy, already dating, takes their kid without a single complaint. Rougeknux is reluctant, at first, but the kid is so much like them, they just both end up loving them and take turns caring for them, with a fluffy half-slowburn friends-to-lovers in between.

Sonadow is absolutely dumbfounded, because it makes sense, but of all people it had to be their rival? Unacceptable.

Sonic likes the kid's sense of morality, humor and bravery, and decides he should take care of them, it was technically his child afterall, and they need a parental figure, specially being they inherited his and Shadow's very enhanced everything.

Shadow does kind of like them too, they're bold and clever, they led the whole escape plan. They also kind of remind him of Maria, with their love for the world, the courage to sacrifice themselves for a bigger cause; it evokes a weird protective feeling. And they also remind him of Sonic, of course they do, and he hates how that makes him feel, because they're bringing to light feelings he had buried long ago (in fear of getting attached to somebody again, and of rejection, but he won't admit that), and he find himself wanting to hug him on sight, to spend his days with him, and he can't take his eyes off that smile, no matter how odd it makes him feel, and seeing Sonic hanging out with his kid– their kid– wanting nothing more than to hold then both tight and never let go; and he won't admit this, but he's head over heels for him, and he has no idea how to navigate a crush other than gay panic™.

Then you have all the Shadow easing in on both of them, some rougeknux and blazeamy, found family, triple dates, awkward gay people, Shadow ranting to Rouge at 3am because he's in love and that's pathetic. Sonic rambling to 15/16 yo Uncle Tails at 3am because he's also in love and he's just hella dense. And all the: rivals-to-oh...-to-OHNOWTFOMFGNOTHIMOFALLPPL-to-whydidIthinktalkingtohimwasagoodidea-to-friends-to-mentalbreakdown-to-lovers. That I am too lazy to write, plus every time I try writing anything it ends up too cheesy and the slowburn turns into an oven at maximum heat and they get married on the second chapter.

(Also I fucked up their ages bc idk I just can, Tails is 15/16, Sonic & Co. are around the age of 25 give or take 3-4 years. It still makes sense, Tails is old enough to watch after himself, and I could get most of them drunk if I wanted to)

Fin.

(I got my phone back finally!)

THAT IS SO COOL UMMMMMM I THINK I NEED THIS.

dude. This sounds like so much fun!

I'm gonna be honest most sonadow fan kid ideas I don't really like, mostly bc it just ends up sounding like a copy of shadows back story with sonics personality, but I think adding all the other kids is such a fun idea! And then all of them get to hang out and be new parents and talk like old people, omg. Love.

If we ever do write anything together I would be so down to help with this 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

I too suck at slow burns, but mostly bc I literally never finish them bc my attention span is like... a couple months for writing and thats not gonna cut it xD

if anything i take forever to write scenes and then i get lost in the dialogue. 😭😭😭

so do the kids age naturally after ten year old mark or do they zoom into their teens and twenties?

[noodletime]

THE PIZZA TOWER POST THAT NO ONES BEEN WAITING FOR EXEPT MYSELF, ABOUT A SPECIAL CHARACTER!!

( BRACE YOURSELF BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO INFODUMP *ALOT*!!)

THE TOWER.

Now, everyone knows what it is, no? The big tower pizzahead owns? Well, boy. I have a story for you. This tower used to be well known for something else rather than just BEING THERE, no, it was a person.

Her name is Evelyn Pillar, AKA "The Tower".

Mother of the pillar bros, John and Gerome, and one of the more famous gods among the earth (making John and Gerome perhaps demi-gods..maybe??). She was well known for being a powerful god with a kind heart, and when I say she was powerful she was POWERFUL. She had many many powers of which she would share with the many mortals on earth, well, if they had good morals. If they had bad morals then they would be banned from her domain, never to ask for her power again.

HER BACKSTORY.

When she was born, all the gods praised her for the range of powers she was born with, yet there was one slight problem. The gods had always been known to have a purpose of existing, for friendship, love, war, death, etc. But they never found out what the towers purpose was for, they couldn't find out, and so, dubbed her useless to the family.

One day, her parents led her to a valley of rainclouds above the world, where they had asked her to wait on said valley. As she stood, the parents cursed the rainclouds to break, and spirit her away to the mortal realm, earth. Once she had arrived she was hopeless, cold, and miles away from her home, but luckily, her apeerance had caught the eye of some lucky humans. They took the strange girl made of stone, and kept her as their own daughter, raising her to become one of the most famous gods on the earth for her apeerance. As a sign of sympathy, they made an observatory for her, where she would try and figure out a way to get back to her home, of course this did not happen but she wouldn't stop until she did find a way. Yet with homesickness, comes with longing for a family, and of course, she had just the right tools for that.

THE CREATION OF THE PILLAR BROS.

When the tower grew older, she longed to have a family, so, she started to experiment, to see if she could create new life.

Now, the tower did not have the correct organs for this, nor did anyone have feelings for her, despite her fame, so she decided to use her powers to create life. At first she tried and tried again to create the perfect children, yet nothing worked, until one day. While she experimented, she decided, what if she used stones? And so, combining human blood and ancient stones she had found, two children of hers were born, Gerome Pillar and John Pillar (John being oldest and Gerome the youngest).

She was incredibly happy to have had created a new family for her, and perhaps she could take them to her old home once she found out how? Well, as they grew older, and the years went by, something very, very terrible happened.

THE TERRIBLE CURSE.

One day, while the family were relaxing and chatting to eachother, a strange fellow came across the 3. His name was PIZZAHEAD, and he wanted to speak with both Evelyn and John. He had given them a deal for the two, quite a fishy deal, but still seemed innocent at first, but as soon as the two shook his hands, thats when the curse immediently set in.

The curse quickly transformed the two, Evelyn transforming into THE TOWER of which pizzahead with reside in, and John became the support beams/life support for it. As for Gerome, he was forced to work as the janitor inside the new residence, and the curse was forever to be set there for a long, long time..

As Evelyn was in her tower state, she was sort of in a type of deep sleep that was both like sleep paralysis and a fever dream. She could sometimes hear the people in the real world in different parts of the towers inside, sometimes talking, maybe arguments, sometimes the bosses or even the two brothers themselfs. But ultimately she was stuck between a dream and reality.

Until HE came along.

AFTER THE CURSE WAS BROKEN.

As soon as Peppino came along and knocked down the tower, the brothers were happy to have been freed from both the curse and pizzahead, yet their mother was assumed to be gone..all the two could do was push on after their loss..or well, for now. A few months after the pizza tower events, something strange happened one day, and the tower would awake from her deep sleep, forcing her entire body to re-form and wake up. Of course the results were not like before, her body was more broken than before and her powers did not work as well, she even forgot some parts of her memory, yet despite all that she was back and she was alive. It was a BIG shock to everyone considering the tower was assumably not even alive..but they grew to learn she wouldn't be that much of a threat at all, she was still the kind and caring god that some people knew from before..

PERSONALITY WAY BACK, BEFORE & AFTER.

When Evelyn was way younger, and John & Gerome were only 5-6, Evelyn was easily worried about ANYTHING that happened around them. She would constantly keep her eye out for them, weather it be just at home when they're playing or outside in town where theres a LOT happening around them. Yet a little further forward when the bros were atleast teenagers, it was a little like the other way around. She didn't have to worry about the two of them for now, since they were older and probably could handle living on their own by now (but choose to stick together). This takes a GREAT weight off of Evelyn's shoulders and she no longer has to have so many worries about them!...This also causes Evelyn to become even more energetic and (slightly) more chaotic- She was willing to experiment on herself, to do something she'd never do if she were younger! ..For example, the few times Gerome had found her clinging onto the ceiling like a cat and the one time John and Gerome failed to convince her to NOT strap fireworks on a merry-go-round and ride it while the fireworks were activated- It's like that meme with the guy struggling to hold the two dogs on a leash but its the pillar bros trying to hold back Evelyn-

As for how she acted in the present, well, she was WAY more broken than before. Her body was in a very critical state and she only had a limited power to use to revive herself, so she did what was best and tried to rush her revival, it didn't work as planned, but hey! She can still walk and talk and other things! Well..aside from the walking part, ever since all those dead john blocks in john gutter were just..left there, without a body to move their souls from (and their peices of their own corpse getting caught up in the revival process), they had to reside in Evelyn's body, which created a new person, Twitch. With Twitch's arrival, Evelyn's body would sometimes start twitching for no reason, or maybe she'd loudly blurt out something without her control. Yet after all of these events, the way she acted wasn't as bad. She was way kinder and a little more forgiving than before, a little more softer but can easily handle a few insults. She acts a bit like Toriel from Undertale, but only when she's around the people she thinks she can trust.

OKAY finnally I can do the part where I show you pictures of her- Ive been waiting for a LONG long while now, hehe-

her before & after events vvv

her reforming vvv

her in the past doing dumb crap vvv

her in the future fighting pizzamancer vvv

& her in some photos with Twitch! vvv

hopefully you liked my infodump, cos it is A LOT off my shoulders!

oke byeee

[thirsty-boba-fett-posts]

Part II of whatever @daimyosprincess decides to call this one.

tw: Eventual smut, age gap but not in a morally reprehensible way, Daddy Daimyo

A week passed before he saw her again. It was early and still cool. She was standing at the stall across from her parents’ chatting with a vendor around her age. She wore a shawl with her dress, but he recognized her curves and her handsome face, even in profile. She stabbed a metal straw into a black melon and sipped the milk absentmindedly. She seemed far more at ease than when he’d first met her at the palace. Boba wondered what kind of merchants’ daughter drinks the milk of the black melon this early in the morning and, more importantly, if her demeanor would change if she knew the Daimyo was watching her.

He didn’t have to wonder long. The vendor pointed in his direction and Boba read her words on her lips.

“Isn’t that the new Daimyo?”

The two girls turned and curtsied in unison.

Boba Fett nodded at them and continued towards Garsa’s Sanctuary.

Fennec smirked. “Has her mother offered to throw her at you yet?”

“Bayata is just looking out for her little chicklet. It is what parents do.”

“She could certainly do worse than a crime lord,” Fennec suggested.

“She could certainly do better,” Boba replied.

“Aw boss, don’t sell yourself short.”

…

He wasn’t preoccupied with her, but he did find himself curious about her. What a funny little thing she was, not especially remote or unapproachable but still rather reserved. Perhaps if he wasn’t so intimidating she would not be so aloof, or perhaps she maintained her distant demeanor with all the men her parents’ expressed designs on out of self-preservation.

The Daimyo of Mos Espa had little time to dwell on a standoffish little merchant princess. There were crime families who needed to be brought to heel through a combination of threats and diplomacy, the iron fist in the velvet glove. What was it that Fennec said to him on his first trip into town as the new Daimyo?

“Things will go a lot smoother if you accept their ways.”

…

The Mods and Krrsantan patrolled at night, allowing Boba and Fennec to make their rounds first thing in the morning as most business owners in Mos Eisley were just starting their day. Boba found that his citizens were less reticent in the earliest part of the day and, as his reputation as a ruthless bounty hunter could be intimidating, he took it as an opportunity to build a rapport with them.

It was on one of these early patrols that he learned something rather remarkable about the fruit merchants’ enigmatic daughter. The twin suns has not yet erupted over the tops of the buildings when he saw her leading a Dewback into town with all its saddle bags full. She was wearing a headscarf the color of Anchorhead sand over her hair and across her neck. Her head was down and she appeared to be tired. Boba Fett found himself approaching her, but she did not notice him until he removed his helmet and spoke to her.

“Where are you coming from, little one?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. He’d startled her, and now that she was looking at him, he could see the exhaustion in her face. Strangely, her expression was open and pleasant.

“I was at The Needles trading with the Tuskens.”

Boba raised his eyebrows in astonishment.

“You rode through the Jundland Wastes on your own?”

“Yes. Yes sir. I trade potassium rich fruits for goods from the tribes there.”

He couldn’t help but find it sweet the way she still corrected herself.

“I lived among the Tuskens for a time,” he said. “Do you know the unspoken language of the Tuskens?”

She made the sign for yes, and then “I trade with the people of the Dune Sea”

He smiled warmly and signed back, “Greetings to you and safe travels, trader.”

Taken aback, her face softened. Fatigue had made her uninhibited and, he suspected, quite pliable, but his use of Tusken Sign Language was what won her over.

“Would you… like a black melon?” she offered, shyly.

“Nothing sounds more refreshing.”

…

She was the type made malleable by weariness, so she acquiesced with no fuss when the Daimyo suggested she stable her Dewback at the palace and get a few hours of sleep in one of the many luxurious bedrooms instead of going straight home to work her parents’ fruit stall.

“I’ll send word to your mother so she doesn’t worry. You’ve ridden all night. She won’t mind if you take a day to rest.”

She warmed to him on the walk to the palace and her voice adopted a more familiar tone and cadence.

“Has my mother tried to pawn me off on you yet?”

She’d have never spoken to him like this were she not deliriously tired, he thought, but he found it incredibly endearing all the same.

“Not yet. Should I expect it?” he asked with a wry smile.

“Give it time. She’s a bit of a social climber. You’d be doing me a favor if you let her down easy.”

He chuckled. “Maybe if I string her along it will give you a bit of breathing room.”

“Now there’s an idea.”

Boba could not help but speculate - how often her mother had tried to play matchmaker to no avail? She was certainly lovely enough.

…

Before slipping into one of the opulent bedrooms in the Daimyo’s palace to shower and sleep off eight hours in the saddle, she stopped and looked at Boba.

“You shouldn’t tell my mother I’m here. We’re both better off if she thinks I got lost in the desert than if she knows I’m sleeping at the new Daimyo’s palace.”

By her tone, he could tell she was only half joking. Of all the difficulties he’d anticipated in becoming a crime lord, this was certainly not one of them.

“Get some rest, little one.”

…

Again, we’re moving pretty slowly but the chemistry is there (I hope)

@daimyosprincess

@nintendobl00d

@dukeoftheblackstar

@acatalystrising

[belovedmuichiro]

Remember those Inotan fan kids I made? Well I finally do! So I thought this time around I’d give an idea of their dynamics with their dads! And a little bonus for Izumi and Kotaro’s personalities

(Further notes under the cut)

Tanjiro and Inosuke didn’t plan to have children at all due to the slayer mark curse, so Izumi (the girl) was a surprise... There wasn’t much they could about it do given the time period, but Inosuke was also adamant about raising the baby so he’d have something of his and Tanjiro’s left once he died.

They had Izumi very young, when Tanjiro is 21 and Inosuke is 20.

Right after she was born, Sanemi had his 25th birthday and basically waits to die, but to everyone’s surprise, Sanemi survives to his 26th birthday.

In this particular au, the curse dies with Muzan, so everyone gets to live to their lives to their natural end.

Tanjiro had already passed on the earrings very early though, wanting to see her grow up with them. He never ends up taking them back.

Soon after the curse is proven to be broken, with Sanemi nearing his 28th birthday and Giyuu making it to his 26th, Tanjiro and Inosuke have Kotaro.

Kotaro was also a surprise, but not in the same sense that Izumi was. More like a “we weren’t trying, but we weren’t not trying” thing

With that backstory out of the way, onto personalities!

Izumi (16 going on 17) is kind of the perfect combination of Tanjiro and Inosuke both in appearance and personality. She has Inosuke’s firecracker personality but Tanjiro’s good morals and responsibility. She’s easy to rile up but hard to truly provoke (ex. she’ll yell and get into verbal fights, but won’t throw a punch).

Kotaro (14) leans more into Inosuke’s features (much to Inosuke’s delight). He’s shockingly taller than the rest of his family, which is actually a Hashibira trait that skipped over Inosuke, who heavily resembled Kotoha. He has Tanjiro’s docile and kind demeanor, but Inosuke’s extremism, often surprising people with how far he’ll go (ex. he won’t argue with someone, but he will absolutely punch them in the face).

Izumi is closest with Inosuke even though he mercilessly annoys the shit out of her. They have a teasing relationship with one another and wrestle a lot. She’s almost as close with Tanjiro, whose approval she craves even though he’s the most supportive father in the world. They’re bigger on acts of service when it comes to one another.

Kotaro is closest with Tanjiro because he’s the tamer of his two parents. He used to be stuck to Tanjiro’s hip as a child, but at his current age they just spend a lot of time together and tell each other everything. He’s also very close with Inosuke, but Inosuke can be a bit too intense for him at times, even if Kotaro tends to mirror him. He’s Inosuke’s BABY BOY though.

Izumi and Kotaro are each other’s best friend. Partners in crime, though Kotaro is happy to be the side kick most of the time. They can be very sarcastic with one another, and LOVE pushing each other’s buttons, but they love each other more than anything at the end of the day.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Luke Warmason - so, that smear campaign? You're right, most of the shit Endevour does isn’t public knowledge. However, there are certain incidents that are pretty public - like say, the Sports Festival, or Toya - and combined with a couple other things, plus a lot of overthinking, there is a certain Luke Warmason Fan club in Canada that is CONCERNED about the Todoroki kids. Like, yeah, it was overthinking, they don’t actually HAVE anything, but they aren’t actually WRONG.

Considering the cameras were very much not on him at the Sports Festival and the only potentially televised line could be interpreted as 'haha yes my child is succeeding!' I doubt that's going to really give anyone any leverage without twisting it in a direction that, while we the audience know is true, would be a leap for anyone else.

And very little about Toya would be known to the public either. Just that one of Endeavor's kids tragically died in a somewhat ironic way. /maybe/ there's knowledge of how Toya's Quirk fucked up, but that's just luck of the draw considering his parent's powers.

Maybe you could bring up something about the incident with Rei and Shoto, but without knowing Everything™ it looks more like Rei's fault while Enji got her the help she needed after the fact.

Like. It's a VERY canon thing that despite the shit Enji was doing, it didn't raise any red flags. That's. That's the whole /point/ of the Todoroki family arc. No one knows what's going on unless they get a direct peek behind the curtain from knowing the family personally.

So in-universe, it'd look like an overzealous fanclub slandering a good man and bringing up the death of his child and his wife's mental health issues just because said man dared to insult their idol. Which. Is exactly what they're doing. Just because they happened to be right doesn't mean what they're doing is okay.

(I'm saying this less in a 'I am morally outraged at these fictional characters' and more in the way that this is how they would be perceived by others because that stuff does happen irl.)

[whumpster-fire]

Today in my journey of rereading the Redwall series: Salamandastron.

This is definitely another one in the "In a world where racism is objectively true" category. Look I know Urthstripe the Strong's overpowering anger towards vermin to the point of endangering himself and sometimes his allies is sort of portrayed as a character flaw, but when your narrative includes "one of the main good guys is openly speciesist to literal children that his adoptive daughter made friends with" (to the point of going "I almost wish they'd try something" and fantasizing out loud about the biggest guy in the hare army beating them to a pulp when they haven't even done anything at that point) and then this is shown to be the right decision with no other example of someone making a bad call like this, there is very much a moral of "Urthstripe is right, Vermin Are Evil. Even the children."

And... look. I am trying not to make every single vermin character my Poor Little Meow Meow and Klitch as written is basically Joffrey Baratheon with fur, but I am so fucking mad that Jacques refused to do any of the interesting things that could have been done with this character and just made him Ferahgo's sociopathic mini-me. Because there was so much potential here.

Like... imagine if Klitch and Goffa were genuinely trying to get away from Ferahgo's horde but Urthstripe ruined it by making it very clear he wasn't welcome in Salamandastron. And then after Urthstripe throws him out and Mara and Pikkle run away Klitch actually sees Mara as a kindred spirit and is like "Hey, your dad's a dick who tries to control your life and stops you from hanging out with creatures he doesn't approve of, my dad's a dick who tries to control my life and stops me from hanging out with creatures he doesn't approve of, we should team up and run away from our horrible parents together!"

And it's only when they get caught that he pivots to "Hello Father, I have successfully spied on the Badger Lord's mountain and I've brought you two hostages!" because the poor kid's panicking because he knows what his father does to deserters (and he picked the moment he did to try to ditch the Corpsemakers because as far as he knew Ferahgo's best trackers were out chasing Dingeye and Thura). He's been much too well trained at lying to protect himself for Mara or Pikkle to notice.

Also: Klitch trying to act casual about Goffa's death and dismiss him as just a dumb minion while internally losing it because his best friend was just killed right in front of him but he's afraid if he shows any sign of grief Ferahgo will use it against him.

Also Also: the wasted comedy potential of Klitch as a high-ranking general in the Corpsemakers who is only in charge of anything because of nepotism and everyone knows it including him. The troops under his command have absolutely no respect for him and only obey his orders because they're scared of Ferahgo. Klitch does not even want all this responsibility (especially because he's not actually given much freedom to make decisions himself: Ferahgo tends to veto or poke holes in any plan he makes whether it's good or not because Ferahgo is caught between trying to train his son to be an effective warlord and being paranoid about his army being more loyal to Klitch than him so he actively tries to engineer situations that will lose him the respect of the troops). Klitch would actually not be a bad tactician but he is also mutually unable to agree with his father on anything as a matter of principle, and is trying to find the precise level of fucking up that will let him weaponized-incompetence his way into not being put in charge of anything anymore without causing Ferahgo to actually murder or maim him.

...combined with the drama potential of him wanting to be the leader of his own army (because he's been raised in an environment where power means safety) but also feeling trapped because most of the Corpsemakers fucking hate him and if Ferahgo dies and he's "in charge" his only chance of survival is if there are so many creatures trying to assassinate him that they all trip over each other. The horde is going to rally around some other figure who will have Klitch disposed of ASAP even if he tries to abdicate, unless he overthrows his father / wins a major victory on his own in such spectacular fashion that he inherits Ferahgo's reputation for being Not To Be Messed With.

Bonus Points if he uses terrible non-waterproof rope on Sapwood and Oxeye on purpose because that's the kind of fuckup that might be that perfect balance (and also because he fucking hated them from the moment they stood guard outside and wants an excuse to have to kill the escaping hostages) but fucks it up for realsies when they actually manage to kill several beasts and escape.

Double Bonus Points if he gets voluntold to help his dad fight a duel against an angry badger lord despite knowing just how stupid that is, and figures out that he's basically there as a distraction so Ferahgo can stab Urthstripe in the eyes while he's busy curbstomping Klitch's head into pulp.

Triple Bonus Points if instead of Badtooth getting caught by Samkim, Mara, and Co, they run into Klitch, who is trying to make a break for it while the horde is distracted and copy the hares' driftwood escape. And who, after getting absolutely decked by Sapwood and informed that he's the hostage this time, completely loses his cool and begs them not to give him back to Ferahgo because he will definitely be literally skinned alive if Ferahgo finds out about this. Which is when at least one of the adults present is finally clued in that something is wrong if the little brat is more scared of his own father than of the numerous well armed creatures with good reasons to want him dead who are right in front of him.