#this is a perfectly normal not at all unhinged post what are you talking about????

[skitskatdacat63]

The way he's not even meant to be in frame but is like, alright, let me gesticulate as much as humanely possible

[smoothriverrocksrock]

Posting this so I can remember later but imagine this: multiverse Transformers crossover au with G1, ok? Doesn’t matter which so long as it’s with G1, but for example purposes let’s imagine it’s with Tf Prime.

You are TFP Megatron, and you’re discussing plans with another version of yourself. He’s unhinged in ways you could’ve never imagined and it’s inspiring. Your current plan is to use the Twin Towers (which is a landmark that doesn’t exist on your Earth, must be a dimensional thing?) as magnetic beacons and attract all of the Earth’s metal with them. While working, you hear Thundercracker say something. You turn around and only see Skywarp, Thundercracker no where in sight. You blink, and Skywarp suddenly morphs into Thundercracker. This keeps happening with all the seekers. You almost got a heart attack when you saw three Starscreams

You are TFP Rachet, and you both adore and despise the Arc. On one hand it’s so filled with life, nothing like tiny, empty base back at home. It’s also depressingly bittersweet, seeing other versions of the people dead in your dimension. On the other hand, you are going to have an aneurism. This alternate version of you is maybe probably dating Wheejack? It looks like he is? Which is making you consider things that could very well lead you down a dark road. This alternate version of you has also has ten children things. Well, he never *calls* them children, but he did create them by hand and also kinda raised them. So. Yeah. Half of them transform into giant destructive forces of reptilian nature, and the other half can fly and combine into a giant destructive force of Autobot nature.

You are TFP Shockwave, and you’re convinced something is wrong with this dimension. It is illogical on physical levels that continue to baffle you. Astrotrain has measured at different heights each time you saw him. Objects never seem to be consistent in appearance, size, or even color. Once you saw the Soundwave counterpart wearing a red Decepticon symbol. Your own Soundwave has been reporting similar odd occurrences, such as humans producing absurdly large objects impractical for their size but suitable for Cybertronians. Everything seems to follow a sort of Schrodinger’s cat philosophy, where nothing could be wrong until directly observed. Your counterpart seems unfazed by any of this, and keeps stating laws of physics that simply do not exist in your dimension. There is a giant green gem at the planet’s pole (ON THE SURFACE NO LESS) that controls the temperature and climate. How the fuck did that form.

You are TFP Bumblebee, and not only can your counterpart speak perfectly, but he is also twins with Cliffjumper. And all the Bots here are in perfect alliance with humans, and your alternate version can drive as publicly as he wants with his human partner. Which is… interesting. You are processing all of this with absolutely no jealousy, promise, absolutely none. You are so normal about all of this.

You are TFP Starscream, and you don’t know if you want to murder your counterpart or be him. He is in a similar situation to you, lacking respect, stuck in second place, and under the constant ridicule of Megatron, but instead of learning basic self preservation he just… stays the same??? You watched your counterpart publicly shoot Megatron in back point-blank, get his ass beat in front of EVERYONE (How does someone so prideful never feel shame??? Like Primus what’s his secret holy shit), and STILL talk shit the next meeting?!? From afar you think you could really grow to respect the guy, but the second you have to actually talk to him the thought disappears. His voice is awful to listen to, he keeps mechsplaining the simplest things about treachery, and he just??? Has some half-organic, half-mechanical thing named Dr. Arkeville in his lab??? You tried to ask about it and instead you got roped into a long rant about some Skyfire guy that you’re 90% sure is his ex

You are TFP Optimus Prime, and your counterpart loves to play basketball.

[halfratsalready]

The Unhinged Jack x Wanderlust Conspiracy Board Explained

A few days ago I posted this silly conspiracy board I made for a slideshow night with my friends where I talked about how Ubisoft loves to deny Jack x Wanderlust and everyone seemed to like it so here’s an in-depth (and I mean in-depth) explanation of everything on it.

We start, of course, with Si’ha Nova and the Traveler, and Wanderlust wearing his dad’s cape at the beginning of Canned Heat because it’s super cute.

And you can’t talk about this ship without the moment from Majesty that perfectly mirrors the moment from Save Your Tears because genuinely why would they do this if they didn’t want people to ship these two? (Rainbow flag added for ✨flavor✨)

I also thought it was worth mentioning that the only time we ever actually hear any of these characters speak across all 14 lore playlist maps is literally Wanderlust calling out Jack’s name.

And now it’s time for the part that I like to call Ubisoft’s crusade against a monster of their own creation (because look at those last two points and tell me they didn’t do this to themselves. You can’t.)

Now in making this I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Ubisoft isn’t being as harsh on the ship as we’ve been thinking, because “they’re such good friends” and “best friends” with a thumbs up automatically reads as very sarcastic and joking to me, like all the memes about “historians will say they were close friends.”

Then there’s the infamous in’s and out’s New Years post, but what I hadn’t picked up on until I saw this screenshot from Twitter is that the inclusion of “normalize being evil” on the in’s list is rather suspicious and that, according to Just Dance, “this was posted by Night Swan’s army.” So I feel like that’s worth mentioning, because it casts a different light on all the other things on the lists. As in including Jack Rose in the in’s list since he’s the only one she didn’t corrupt yet and she wants to do that this year? And putting stanning Jacklust on the out’s because she’s evil and doesn’t want us to have nice things? Not too sure but hey, if someone better at analyzing things wants to look into that, I’d be down to read it.

(I also think it’s worth mentioning that “worrying about getting a Megastar” is included in the out’s list when the tweet just before that one is encouraging players to get Megastar on Zero to Hero, so some more contradictions there, but that might not mean anything, given that Night Swan’s whole thing is perfection and I feel like she would definitely be in favor of worrying over getting Megastar.)

Plus there’s the pretty popular belief that they’re just pointing out how stupid of a ship name Jacklust is, but I’m personally not at all sold on this being the reason, even if Jacklust is a stupid ship name. (I told my friends the ship name during this presentation and one of them said “Really? Wanderrose was right there.”)

Lastly, I threw Night Swan in there because of the theory that Ubisoft is denying Jack x Wanderlust because the Traveler is Jack’s father. Now, I have opinions about this theory and I hope it’s not true for obvious reasons, but I feel like if it is, it’s a serious oversight on Ubisoft’s part.

Firstly, if they’re half siblings why did they recreate the move from Save Your Tears in Majesty? Seems odd to have half siblings recreate a pretty iconic romantic duet moment.

There’s also the fact that we can clearly see that Wanderlust takes physical traits from each of his parents - his mother’s blue skin and his father’s dark hair. If the Traveler is Jack’s dad, why don’t they share any physical characteristics? At the very end of the beta for Sweet Dreams (spoiler?) we see Night Swan with green eyes, unlike the yellow eyes she has in the rest of the dances we see her in. (While this could just be an older design choice, I personally interpreted this as meaning that her eyes were green before she went evil and then they turned yellow.) In all of his character artwork, Jack’s eyes are green, which I take as meaning that this is a trait he got from his mother. So I personally feel like it only makes sense for his father to have red hair (and we’ve got plenty of options to pick from with that criteria).

But hey, that’s just a theory… I don’t need to finish that part, you’re already thinking it. Thanks for reading my insane ramblings!

[starlightseraph]

honoured to have been summoned, comrades 🫡

@dtmsrpfcringe

those screenshots are truly unhinged.

- ever heard of candid photos? ones that aren't posed or staged to have the person look a specific way? ones that capture the essence of a moment and have a more organic feel? ones that can celebrate the mundane? is it abnormal for family/ friends/loved ones to take candid in-the-moment pictures? no. or if it is, then i guess everyone i know, all the people i've seen doing this, and every person who's ever posted a non-posed photo of their loved one is a creep.

- appreciation and kindness for everyone but him? let me refer you back to this: "happy birthday to the best person most of us will ever know. the kindest of people, the cleverest of people, the funniest of people and the best dad of (many) people. sometimes i wonder what i do to deserve him..." and this is only a selected example, not an exhaustive list.

- hijacking his party and refusing to acknowledge that it was his? the card they posted was literally for a combined party. a 90th birthday, and given that david's not 90, but he's in his early 50s while she's almost 40, and it's not anywhere near either of their real birthdays, it's fairly obvious that it was meant for both of them. as you would know, if you payed attention to the goddamn card.

- normalising abuse? girl where. you have no knowledge of their private communication and boundaries, what they've talked about/agreed on, what they find mildly annoying and what they are genuinely upset by. poking fun, egging on, banter, all are perfectly healthy. if he's truly disturbed by anything, it is his responsibility to communicate that, and her responsibility to respect it. but these interactions are normally not public. they've almost certainly discussed social media sharing outside of the few snippets we've seen. it's fairly safe to assume, then, that any conversations they've had on-camera apply to those specific instances. "not right now" as opposed to "not ever". and a reminder that we literally do not know these people. you can't draw a diagram of an entire house by peering through a few windows.

- about the criminal offence bit, i can tell you, with absolute certainty, that no one is going to report anyone to the police for taking a candid photo in a kitchen. i promise, it's not illegal, by any stretch of the law, for a wife to take a photo of her husband standing at a counter. it may be technically illegal in some places to distribute those photos without the person's consent, but we, as outsiders, have no way of knowing and therefore shouldn't assume that she didn't get consent. i have several lawyers in my very close family, and i can already hear the legalese they’d break into to counter this argument.

the most important point i want to make is that they are married, and have been for a dozen years, and have known each other for years more than that. they understand each other, they probably know each other better than anyone. they certainly know each other better than we do. when you get to that point with someone, you generally don't need to confirm every single thing you do. in most cases, you can get a sense of what's ok and what's not. it's possible that georgia has some difficulty with that, as she's neurodivergent, but in that case the boundaries just need to be clarified for her. if she's unsure, she can ask, if she's unaware, he can tell her. because human relationships go both ways, boundaries need to be communicated, understood, and consistently adjusted. only then are they even tangible concepts that can dictate social interactions. and smaller things or individual moments can exist freely, without a giant rubric attached. they're both adults, they both have agency, and they both have access to support. trust that they're making good choices for themselves and each other, because you have no real reasons to think otherwise.

[lyriquette]

Remnants of RWBY: Vytal Festival - Day 3: Alternate Universes

@remnants-of-rwby-events

The next offering is part of the Becoming AU, the Crack Taken Seriously fic where Ruby is mistakenly believed to be a Beacon professor by the rest of the school and Ozpin rolls with it. Antics ensue. But you don't need to read it to understand this chapter, which will probably be posted 2 weeks after to AO3.

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

Becoming AU / Perspective: Jaune

After Forever Fall, Cardin makes the mistake of disparaging Crocea Mors within Ruby's earshot.

------

It had been an...awkward couple of weeks after Forever Fall. 

He had expected Cardin to leave him alone after saving his life. He did not expect him to try and get all friendly instead. It was just extremely awkward, having Cardin try to include him in all of his team's activities and you know pretend like the whole blackmailing stuff never happened.

What's worse was that Cardin was genuinely sincere about these invitations too, which made it really hard to decline.

His team noticed too. And Nora was really getting hyped up on breaking Cardin's legs this time around, and no one believed him when he said that Cardin was trying to be nice instead of bullying him.

Which was why he was in this situation now. In the middle of the hallway, stuck making small talk with Cardin and the rest of his team, under the watchful eye of Ren and Nora a classroom away.

As for Pyrrha, well, she was suffering with him. Even her normally brilliant smile started to dim after fifteen minutes of this awkward situation - what could she do when Cardin was genuinely trying to be nice?

Well, at least his team won't think Cardin's trying to bully him anymore.

“I’m telling you that I’m perfectly fine with a sword and shield. It’s what I practice with, it’s what I know,” Jaune said wearily, mostly just wanting this conversation to end.

Unfortunately, Cardin didn’t want to comply with his silent wishes.  

“Look. You could definitely do better. Your sword and shield’s boring, outdated, and probably needs to retire in a museum somewhere. I know a couple shops where you can get a discou-” Any further words Cardin wanted to say seem to have gotten caught in his throat. Cardin's gaze was no longer on him but past his arm, where he caught a couple of red fading petals blowing in from behind.

That’s when Ruby just walked past him - from wherever she came from - and straight towards Cardin. He couldn't see her face, but from the way she was trembling, Ruby was not happy.

“Y-you’re kidding, right?” The normal bubbliness in Ruby’s voice was replaced with so much incredulity and anger that he believed Ruby had beef with Cardin over something unrelated entirely. Enough that Pyrrha and he immediately walked to their side, instinctively prepared to defuse the situation. 

At least until she dropped the bombshell.

“..Y-you’re seriously insulting Crocea Mors?” 

Seeing the intensity in Ruby’s steel eyes was scary - almost like watching a cat about to pounce a mouse. And Cardin clearly thought so too because he stumbled trying to step back and knocked into the wall behind him. 

It always confused him as to why Cardin would try his very best to avoid Ruby after his duel with her, despite Ruby losing that fight. Actually, it was a little funny that Mr. Tough Guy was so afraid of shy, cheerful Ruby.

...But looking at the slightly unhinged look in the younger girl's eyes, he’s starting to have an idea why. 

“I-I-I wasn’t…” Cardin stuttered to the amazement of the other members of his team. 

Ruby forwardly just stepped up and placed her hands on Cardin’s shoulders, which looked a little comical given that the guy had over a foot of height on her. 

“...Crocea Mors isn’t a weapon that you can ridicule,” Ruby whispered in dead seriousness, “It survived at least three generations in a Huntsman’s family. It survived the Great War. And it’ll probably survive you too.” 

He’s…pretty sure Ruby didn’t say ‘and that might be sooner rather than later' but oh boy did he feel it. And from the deer-in-headlights look Pyrrha’s giving him, she felt it too. 

“H-h-hey. Come on now. Let's not fight over that antique -” Russel remarked with a genial smile, sliding between Cardin and Ruby to try and make peace. And that smile wilted immediately after Ruby turned to him with a blank expression. Hell, even his mohawk looked like it wilted too. 

Gotta give him props though. 

What a true friend. 

“That antique was made with the best that Vacuoian steel-forging and Vale’s blacksmithing had to offer!” Ruby scathingly replied as she pushed Cardin away and stalked over to Russel, “Even today, blacksmiths and fabricator machines could only hope to match Crocea Mors’s durability and sharpness. 

“You wanna pit Shortwings against it for a couple hundred swings?” Ruby stomped a foot down and swung her arm to punctuate her point, “I will bet any amount of Lien that Shortwings shatters first!” 

Russell vigorously shook his head as quickly as he could - like a grade schooler knowing he did wrong. Unfortunately for him, it's clear Ruby was determined to hammer the lesson home.

“More importantly,” Ruby lowered her voice once more, “that antique had more thought put into it than most weapons today.”

“Crocea Mors was created specifically with the hope that its wielder would survive the Great War,” Ruby confidently declared, “And to do that, it was made to be both strong and reliable. Do you know what sand or water does to intricate mechanisms? It gums them up and then makes them useless.”

“Now of course, I built Crescent Rose here with a wicking system to deal with that,” Ruby affectionately added with a pat to the collapsed weapon hiding behind her cape, “but back then, who would know how to make that kind of mod?”

“Furthermore, whatever joints Crocea Mors had were made so well that the shield appears seamless when deployed,” Ruby lectured on, clearly calmer after her brief aside about her own weapon. It still didn’t stop her from prodding Russel’s chest every couple words though. “And as strong as every other part of the shield too.” 

So entranced he and Pyrrha were by this super assertive version of Ruby that they didn’t even realize Cardin and the rest of his team had already skedaddled. Only when Russel desperately gazed over at where Cardin was - and the indignant disbelief in the guy’s eyes - did they realize that the rest of team CRDL was just gone.

“Do you know which kingdoms preferred guerilla and ambush tactics the most? Mantle and Mistral!" Ruby continued on, gaining steam again, “Under those circumstances, a sheath that turns into a heater shield is a brilliant idea! Not to mention there’s a robust spring-loaded mechanism that can deliver a counter blow when the shield is deployed or even create a makeshift barricade to block a narrow passage.” 

"As for the sword, its excellence speaks for itself," Ruby then huffed as she closed in on a shrinking Russel, "but if you had any proper weapon knowledge, we wouldn’t be here right now."

“Keeping an edge that keen over three generations - an edge that can cleanly decapitate an Ursa Major in one swing - is a testament to both the blacksmith’s metalworking and Jaune’s family who maintained it well.”

…Well, now he was feeling guilty again about stealing Crocea Mors from the family.  

“Heck! Given how old this "antique" is, chances are it cut down someone who would’ve ended up killing your ancestors, giving you the opportunity to say such ignorant words today. ” Ruby continued on, “Really! You should be calling Crocea Mors your Granddadd- Wait Pyrrha, what are you-” 

Pyrrha had begun pulling the younger girl up and away from Russel, elbows latched underneath the other girl’s armpits.

Yeah, probably a good place to end things.

It still didn’t stop Pyrrha or himself from trying to stifle a laugh at the uncharacteristic Yang-like insult.

Definitely sisters, alright.

Still staring at Russel and being restrained by Pyrrha, Ruby frowned as she nudged her head towards him, “Come on, Jaune! He’s insulting your weapon! You should be defending Crocea Mors's honor!” 

“Errr…Ruby, I actually didn’t know all tha-”

Pyrrha shook her head violently, mouthing the word no. 

Russel, from the corner of his eyes, looked at him with an expression of gratefulness. 

Ruby slowly turned her head towards him. 

Oh. Crap.

[tagedeszorns]

(Violetbirdie here) I think it's complicated due to a variety of issues. 40k as a franchise is huge, but it isn't the sort of thing that tends to have overlap with tumblr type fanspaces. It also doesn't help that 40k is a fractured fandom featuring tons of different factions, so it's not like a standard fandom where there are main characters and a main story that people will always flock to. The primarchs are the closest thing we have to that, which is why there is naturally more content for them. In addition, fandom itself is in a bit of a flux state and has been ever since the 2018 nsfw ban which caused a lot of people to leave for twitter, which is now undergoing its own huge changes right now (and I just hate twitter on principle).

I suppose the one thing I think would help, would be somehow getting the 40k tumblresque fandom space more consolidated as a whole. Like, somehow have a blog that is popular for all factions that posts headcanons about everything, thus getting people interested in parts they don't normally think about. Because 40k is a huge time investment to learn about. I've been listening to audiobooks for what feels like nonstop for over a month, and even then I could only ever feel confident telling people about Emperor's Children. So it naturally is harder for new people to get into the fandom and focus on some of the smaller things because there is just so much. It's almost how I view your blog. I check it daily for fun art/headcanons/just general character stuff, and you made me more interested in some of the captains and such. But even then, you have your focuses. So a space even more general where someone would reblog art from everything 40k would likely be nice? Maybe I just miss the livejournal days of fandom. As far as more engagement, I think having silly things like character weeks which encourages people to draw or write or talk about specific aspects is a huge benefit. It sets a schedule and makes people feel like they are shouting less into the void.

But as someone new here, maybe its my weird perspective, but I don't feel like things are getting less popular. If anything, from just checking AO3, it seems like things are only getting more popular for less of the reddit type and more for the Tumblr wanting to see hot dudes and their complicated feelings type. Also more people are getting into 40k in this side of the space through rogue trader. Like people I never talked to about 40k are starting to look into the series because they played Baldurs Gate 3, and needed a new RPG to play, and conveniently Rogue Trader is filling that for them. So, I'm optimistic if anything. Sorry about the long ramble! Just kinda dumping my thoughts out.

I love Tumblr because, unlike Twitter or Bluesky, it allows for way longer, way more elaborately structured posts. I love it when artists don't just slap their pics into a post and be done with it, but instead add stuff like maybe "I read this book, here's a quote, and it gave me this mighty need to draw this". Or "please listen to this music here while looking at my pic! It goes perfectly with it!". Or just a multi-paragraph-essay (preferably very unhinged) about the character in the upper left corner.

This in advance, so you can see I'm totally with you on the "miss Lifejournal"-thing, because blogs are so much better than just 500 characters, four pics and nothing else. And why I think Tumblr is a very good replacement for Lifejournal.

The multitude of Tumblr-blogs with their many different angles are such a treat and provide such a rich ecosystem! I follow artists posting exclusively admech-stuff, others solely Drukhari, some writers focussing on just one Astartes Legion ... it's phantastic and the depth of their niche-knowledge is mindblowing.

I agree with you that this will be overwhelming for new fans coming from rather monolithic stuff like Rogue Trader. And the key to keeping those new people involved and making them feel welcome is showing them all this variety without scaring them away.

Maybe this new feature Tumblr is working on, can be helpful here. I haven't read much about it yet, but it seems the "Community"-feature has the potential to bundle stuff in a way that's more approachable for new and old fans alike. Maybe there's room for your idea of having "character weeks" (I like that! Sounds very MacDonald's. I'll have Fabius with extra pickles, please! 😁).

I'm sharing your optimism that both the new games and maybe the new series/movies will bring a lot of new fans over and some of them may even stick around. I am a bit wary that there's the possibility of a MCU-situation starting to build up, but since Warhammer-lore is in a constant state of flux anyways this might just add some spice to the mix.

So, yeah, hope for the darkest of futures!

[melanodis]

*EidoLotus voice* M... More...? More Natah...? 👉👈

FR FR i am SO curious about her. What is ur design rationale what r ur headcanons for her please please elaborate... I wanna knoweee

- Leo 🦁

really old doodle ft nimbus (my friend's mimic oc) yayyy

The doodles above don't really do her much justice but I wanted a really quick mockup. She has the little elbow feathers on the sides of her head :)

@leolithe

She's like a fish or some kind of creature to me, at least in her more sentient form.

I do really like the interpretation of her as a system but I don't do it myself because I'm simply not educated enough on the topic nor have much firsthand experience with them in order to comfortably do so.

She also occasionally visits the drifter camp and has a little hangout area in the cave just for her.

Post TNW she's a lot more... loose? Unhinged, even? Faced with the realization that you have free now and can do whatever you want. With how Hunhow sits in the oceans of Uranus it makes me associate sentients with being aquatic so I like to think she just... dives into the streams of the camp or even in Cetus to catch fish to eat. See above image.

More rambling under the cut.

Along the same vein, she also struggles with having to remember she does in fact have free will now. She doesn't HAVE to play mission control 24/7. I imagine outside of the little pod she has on Lua, she has an entire nice little living area all to herself, adorned with porcelain, gold, and many lush plants. Something that even the Orokin would gawk at. A library full of texts long thought lost, many in dead languages from old Earth.

For more rationale towards my design; I wanted her to sort of embrace her sentient nature more, maybe looking kind of aggressive and colorful. Like a bird. But she's a big sweetheart, really.

Doing "human" things to break up the monotony of her previous life. Even something as simple as making tea from a kettle. Ballas' line, "Her kind feel no pain". She wants to prove him wrong so badly. To drink tea, burn her tongue a little and this silly human mistake makes her feel alive. That little flinch and shock down her spine as her nerves recover. Maybe a little wave, "oops".

She's genuinely so tragic. Spending millennia as a pawn just to switch hands multiple times. The deception, the manipulation, the gaslighting. Then finally being freed and just... not knowing what to do with yourself because you can't remember what it was like without being manipulated, by facets of constructed selves in your mind or by external forces. gggggghuhhhhh.

While my Natah still kinda takes from facets of Margulis, it's more of a like, uncanny valley type way. It looks like her but something is Off.

More or less Lotus is used to talking to brick walls. So for someone to actually actively listen to her (and not roll their eyes, shrug it off) and engage in conversation is actually insane to her. Like reading off a script your entire life and suddenly being forced to scramble together your own coherent sentences. Narrating her every thought in her head like the silly machine she is. "Oh god, it's been 2.3 seconds and I'm sweating bullets. She's looking at me. I haven't formulated a sentence. It's been 3 seconds now. She's raising her eyebrow awaiting a response. Um. UM." An awkward grin.

I have taken to kinda smashing her like barbies with Eudico, with what I have dubbed "mom squared (mom²)", two people learning through each other what it actually means to be human. Eudi retelling what it's like to be organic (originally), Natah taking notes. What a "normal" family would've been like. It's all completely new to her but it's so interesting to contrast against her own.

Something cool I found from decompiling her model is that the Lotus helmet perfectly covers the face seams on her sentient form.

Aaaand an excerpt from my notes that I've held onto forever.

-

Something something about Eudi being warm and Natah being cold and comparing that their bodies are both synthetic but completely different architectures. Themes of Corpus technology in sterile white rooms whereas Sentients live and thrive in those warm (colored, i doubt drifting in the dead of space is warm lmao), organic Sentient murex.

It's like. How the Warframes are more or less just tech meat. Sentients too, created by the Orokin, would probably follow the same flavor of design.

"Time and time again, you've had to rebuild yourself with nothing but scraps... why not change things up sometime?"

Eudico shrugs.

"Why don't you? You can be anything you want."

"I guess we've both grown too comfortable in our bodies, then."

"There's pieces of my parents in me. Like my face, that defines me as a person, gives me an identity and paired with a unique voice to match. But that's about all I have left that's mine."

"I think I get it. It would be.. rude, to get rid of those features."

"More sentimental value than anything, Really. Plus, I like my red hair. It's.. quite rare in Corpus society."

And Natah continues to cling onto Margulis, because no matter her form we still see facets of her.

[wrose-writes]

Greetings and salutations!

You can call me Rose, pleasure to meet you (probably)

My main blog's @theroseempress, I mostly live over there but I decided to make a side-blog for writing stuff in order to make it easier to find.

Also I have a Wordpress: carolinaauthor, if you want to read actual writing pieces that's where I put them.

oh yeah here's my Big WIP Intro Post go check that out! (this is currently outdated but it's still somewhat accurate ahaha)

anyway time for 'current list of my main projects with Quick Descriptions'! If any of these catch your interest feel free to ask about them or ask to be taglisted for the rare occurence of me talking about my writing on my writing blog!

current list of my main projects* with Quick Descriptions-

WishWIP- Currently my 'main' project, which really needs a proper name with how much focus I've given it by now, this is just the main character's name with WIP after it. Anyway I want to make this one into a comic because I apparently don't have enough to do already. The plot is currently going through scripting in a libreoffice doc . Also this is the second fall in a row where I have become suddenly interested in this project so that's. odd. Basic Quick Description- Wish is just trying to find Someone for perfectly innocent reasons when she runs into an evil magic eating Creature, Song, who is a Very Normal and Not Being Chased By Assassins At All Girl, and the plot, in rapid succession. 'hey what if we went to the Library and you were my bodyguard?' Song suggests. 'no reason for that last part really just Girlish Worries.' she says, normally and casually. Wish looks very suspiciously at her but agrees nonetheless. You can find stuff for this one in #wishwip. Main Cast**- Wish, Song, Lyric, Rhythm, also a whole bunch more people who only show up in the second arc and might kind of be spoilers IDK so they're not here.

fallenstars- Probably my other main WIP! I really like a lot of the worldbuilding and plot in this one, it's one of my more recent projects and I rotate the main four guys in my head pretty frequently with varying velocity. (Fun fact a fair amount of the main four for this WIP's characterization was born of me playing with the incorrect quotes generator, which should give you a pretty good idea of what they're like.) You can find stuff for this one in #fallenstars. Basic Quick Description- A long, long time ago, the stars fell from the heavens. A slightly less long time after that, Rekha and Ven found them. Or at leas they think they did. That's what the ~expedition~ is for! Featuring; most of the cast being a little (or a lot) unhinged, most of the cast being a little (or a lot) traumatized, and certain members of the cast being very badass. Also magic. (hard magic systems my beloved). Also names. Names are important. Main Cast**- Vivian, Arielle, Jai, Mirren, Rekha, Ven, Sapphire/Saph, Auburn, and various other people also.

Mercy City- Was my main WIP for a while, I haven't worked on it for a longer while though. I still like it though. it's nice. I want to put Caden in a salad spinner desperately (smug little bastard) and I regularly make angsty head AMVs for Kiseki. Felice my beloved. You can find stuff for this one in #mercy city. Basic Quick Description- The world is made up of Resonance and we can manipulate that. Everyone is born with an affinity (can manipulate a certain bit of Resonance without needing to know the formula for it) except sometimes they aren't and even more sometimes they're born with Too Much Affinity. Too Much Affinity is bad because you blow up. Kiseki has so far avoided blowing up, and his sister Felice (who has No Affinity) would like to keep it that way. And then the plot happens. whoopsies. Main Cast**- Felice, Kiseki, Caden, Sophie, and a lot of other characters but I'm trying to keep it more to the main cast so probably just these four? idk. there's more guys tho.

sky pirates- *faux grumbling* I read ONE TWENTY PAGE PAMPHLET about pirates... Anyway yeah this one's pretty self explanatory. Sky pirates. That combined with another idea I've had for a year or two, where people hunt through dangerous ruins of skyscrapers for useful stuff to sell (that one never went anywhere because I had no plot) (now I have a plot) You can find stuff for this one in #sky pirates. Basic Quick Description- Lute (who is Completely Normal) and his crew are just going about their normal scrapper life and doing normal scrapper things (supposedly), when suddenly a girl runs away from the army and runs into them. (they help. they're polite like that. also they (for good reason) don't like the army). And then they discover she can manipulate the Mist. And then they discover a bunch of people want to steal her. And then she explains she needs to get to an old ruin for Magic Reasons. And now they're going on a quest. Main Cast**- I didn't remember naming anyone in this, but apparently the crew (Lute, Vanya, Blake, Robin, and Chess) all have names. Nobody else though. I should really get on that.

mecha project- A project born of me smushing my appreciation for mechs, space, and academy settings into one place! I'm less 'actively working' on this one and more 'actively imagining it as a TV show'. We'll see if that ever happens to it! (probably not) (but you never know) You can find stuff for this one in #mecha project. Basic Quick Description- space. mechs. people go to mech academy. fights in space. bad guy wants to take over universe. different visually appealing species. the main character is part dragon. one of the antagonists wants to dissect him (For Science). this is partially inspired by my dislike of the voltron reboot thingie that i watched like six seasons of and then bailed on. also that one time i wrote out a whole rewrite concept for high guardian spice. anyway mechs in space. Main Cast**- there's people but none of them have names. yet. ahaha. did i mention the main character is part dragon.

The Golden City- The oldest project on this list! I recently discovered the plot to this thing is a lot longer than I'd previously thought, so right now all I'm doing with this WIP is rotating it at high speed in my head while trying to figure out what the next two thirds of the story is about. You can find stuff for this one in #the golden city or #tgc. Basic Quick Description- Felix is just going about his normal life and definitely not being a criminal, except oops, he's been arrested now, oh dear, and how he has to go on a quest to Not Be In Jail >:(. Also people are blackmailing him to essentially cause a civil war. He's doing his best, guys, be nice to him. Main Cast**- Felix, Helen, Shannon, Florian, Tay (Taylor), Bricriu, Nikolai, Nerium, Iris, Raz.

keyWIP- a concept that was born entirely of me thinking about keys for too long. I'm not really actively working on/thinking about this one at the moment, but I like the idea (and Melody) so I'm keeping it here in the event I get more interested in it. You can find stuff for this one in #keyWIP. Basic Quick Description- There are keys that can open any door to any other door and also shapeshift! Conor gets harassed by the Scholars' Council into inviting all the people who have keys to come tell the Council that because [SECRET PLOT POINT]. To the surprise of both Conor and some other people, this actually works somehow. Things proceed to escalate rapidly from that point. Main Cast**- Melody, Kit, Conor, Shalom, Hope, Adora, Varian, Jasmin [redacted] (so yeah this cast list is just all the people with keys (excluding Conor)).

If any of these project descriptions catch your interest, please feel free to ask to be on the taglist, which will mean I'll tag you in the rare posts I make about my WIPs!

Or just send an ask about something you're curious about, I don't bite and I love talking about my little fictional guys :)

(*what I'm currently working on changes very suddenly and frequently so I can't really tell you that, but this should at least give you an idea of what I'm doing).

(**trust me, there's very probably more, I just listed the main people)

[pirdmystery]

sylvain jose gautier for the ask game

oiuhgggghhhggggggggggg…

first impression: it is important to note that i literally got into 3h because i knew it as “that game with sylvain in it.” i didn’t even know what to expect from him other than that. so when dimitri introduces him as “a bit of a skirt chaser” or whatever i’m like lol ok?? what??

impression now: if anyone is interested… go through my sylvain tags to get a feel for this. i’ve been spiraling lately. suffice to say i am SO sick about him like more and more every day. christ alive talk about a guy with problems. the way he is so smart and so soft but he is absolutely determined not to let anyone know either of those things… noooo I’m actually just a wacky little guy don’t worry about me… i’m just the comic relief… doing fine… yeah i know i said “burn until we meet again” and “see you in hell i guess” but that’s just because I’m being soooooo funny and normal… i’ve also never cried in my life btw…

fav moment: there are so many blink and you miss it unhinged sylvain moments in this damn game. i’ve talked about it recently but the fact. that if he does badly on a lesson and you pick console instead of critique he gets really bitchy and pissed off. like jesus christ. sorry for trying to extend you some gentleness buddy will not make that mistake again.

also let’s take a moment to recognize the iconic “it killed my brother and now it’s mine.” certified sylvain moment

idea for a story: i have billions. i never stop emotionally tormenting this man. got a 20 years post cf angstfest about he and felix coming. beyond that i am obsessed with the prospect of a sylvain/mercedes/ingrid ot3 and someday i am going write a fic with them that isn’t just the extensive smut that currently exists in my google docs

fav relationship: i have got to go with ingrid. i do very much ship sylgrid romantically and they make me sooooooooo unwell but even if i didn’t their friendship is just so important to me in a way i really struggle to put words to. the way they understand each other perfectly but that makes it almost harder for them to get through to each other because of all the layers of bullshit they have built up around the true version of themselves that the other sees. they bump heads a lot but the way it’s so obvious that under whatever they might be clashing about and the baggage of their years of friendship there is this foundation of unconditional love that is not going anywhere no matter what oh god suddenly i cant see the screen and there’s something happening to my eyes oh god

a fun thing about sylvain is that i could write equally unhinged paragraphs about his relationships with mercedes and dorothea!! something about girls he would normally flirt with and their response is :) hey i see you btw! and sylvain is forced to crumble like a little baby. i cannot get enough of that shit. get seen idiot. i’ve also been known to enjoy some yurivain and dimivain and claudevain for not dissimilar reasons.

unpopular opinion: once again idk what is popular!! i feel like my shipping tastes with him are not the most popular but everyone is nice to me when i talk about them so. it’s all good

favorite headcanon: most bisexual man on the planet. i also love making him work service jobs lmao. he works at subway in my sylgrid fic but there are so many other things i want to subject him to. he should have to sing happy birthday to people at applebees. he should be a barista at a shitty coffee shop. mostly this is because it’s funny but i also think would be deeply in character for sylvain to plant himself somewhere far below his skill level and languish there as if there were nothing else he could do about it.

tysm for letting me go off about him… man. sylvain.

[twilightguardian]

https://kiwifarms.net/threads/rwby.62189/page-305#post-10976211

https://kiwifarms.net/threads/rwby.62189/page-306#post-10980540

https://kiwifarms.net/threads/rwby.62189/page-318#post-11065385

Definition: shit

With the Farms still struggling only one of those links actually works lol

And it's to a post by Mollie Rhymemaster, or whatever she's going by these days. Yes, the crazy bitch who went on an absolute rage bend when she got kicked out of the Sketchy Huntsman for being racist. Because of course she'll never tell anyone on the Farms the real reason why she got kicked, so she'll say it was over the onsen scene. Which, yeah, tangentially it was. But I saw screenshots where she was being racist about it because she wasn't getting her way and refusing to understand why anyone would want the scene kept in and speaking over a Japanese member of the SH about it who offered their perspective.

She's a vindictive little weasel with anger issues and is abusive to anyone who doesn't lick her boots. She's also incredibly ableist, treating myself and at least one other autistic individual in the Tundra like garbage and writing off our social issues due to autism as just something you can 'learn to get over'. Yes, because as we all know you can just 'learn' to get over a neurological differences. Once we've 'learned' the trick to being normal everything is perfectly okay! It's perfectly acceptable in her eyes to cut down someone who looks up to her with harsh words and insults because she cannot stand the fact that he's neuroatypical.

It's totally not unhinged at all to go screaming at someone, saying they're abusive because they didn't agree with all the criticism given on their written work and wanted a discussion and clarification over it. Because that's my experience with her. In her mind you have to shut the fuck up and not question when the Great Mollie or Mollie Friend gives you criticism and how dare you question Her great wisdom. She's perfect and knows everything and you best listen to her or else she'll do everything she can to slander you. After all, notice how she cuts off screenshots she takes. Almost as if anything that might be said below might contradict what she says or something. Who knows. But I wouldn't trust this woman half as far as I could throw her.

She left the Tundra saying she stayed in the server purely to gather dirt on everyone in it in case she needed it. When left claimed she wished the project success and yet talks constantly about why it will fail and blah blah. Salty because she was kicked off a project she begged to volunteer for and then got angry volunteers don't get paid.

That one. Her. Totally someone you can trust. For sure.

She was also kicked out of @sytokun's project as well and he can also speak to her behaviour if he so wishes.

[musical-chick-13]

Reading your posts about "toxic" couples and female villains has me thinking I don't watch any TV programs with any such characters and I want to. Do you have recommendations?

Ohhh, you have come to the right place, my friend. (This is very long I'm so sorry.)

I'm going to do the opposite of what I normally do start with my Number One Recommendation (as in, I think this show is most likely to be the kind of thing you're looking for), which is Search Party starring Alia Shawkat. I really would suggest going into this one blind because it is a ride. This is basically "Everyone Gets Worse: The Show," including one of the most complex and effective corruption arcs of a female character I've ever seen! And Dory/Drew, the main couple, is the most batshit deranged romance. I'm a Jaime/Cersei stan and Dory and Drew somehow come across as worse.

SPEAKING OF JAIME/CERSEI. I like GoT more than I like Search Party. And I like Cersei more than...every character ever. She's not the Final Antagonist™, but she's a formidable presence throughout the show, with such a rich interior emotional world that I always learn something new about her every time I think about her!! And Jaime/Cersei is THE unhealthy romance for me; it is the standard by which I measure every unhinged, toxic couple. People are going to tell me not to recommend this because season 8 is bad, but my hot take of the century is that the final season/ending was overall perfectly fine. Also some love to my girl Melisandre, who is also complex in an unpalatable way that's underappreciated by fandom.

Also going to plug Fleming: The Man Who Would Be Bond, which I think is where my love for Toxic Ships™ can be traced back to. Ann and Ian's relationship is fucked up.

Elementary has a female Moriarty, who doesn't actually show up in that many episodes, but her influence and romantic history with Sherlock is felt throughout the show. He even calls her "the great love of [his] life." Miss Sherlock also has a female Moriarty, who is delightfully creepy.

This is ALSO my daily pitch for 2001 anime Noir, which barely feels like an anime if I'm honest. So if you're not an anime person please don't let that put you off. Altena is THE anime villain of all time, and every single other tragic villain wants what she has. She's extremely competent and is probably the only example I've seen of a villain who claims they're doing the right thing and I genuinely believe she thinks that. (Looking at you [character name redacted].) All the women in this are fucked up, actually, and have very fucked-up relationships with each other! This includes the central couple (though they do eventually get on the same page), but ALSO there's a minor, 2-episode dynamic that stays thoroughly fucked-up the whole way through, I'm talking fighting-to-the-death, I Traumatized You As A Child Which Profoundly Affected Me So Much I Became Obsessed With You/I'm Afraid Of You But Will Still Embrace You While Attacking You (someone other than me please ship this please, PLEASE I'M BEGGING).

I also can never recommend Chainsaw Man enough. I won't say I ship the toxic couple (unlike the others I've mentioned), but it's very complex and furthers the themes of the story and reverberates through it in a way where I really appreciate that it's there. It's a big part of the reason why the story is as excellent and hard-hitting as it is. Also one of the most frightening female villains I've ever seen. (And also Aki/Himeno, another codependent ship. Though that one's pretty tame in comparison to the other dynamics I've mentioned.)

There is also Doctor Who, with recurring villain Missy and the former-friends-turned-enemies-with-heavy-subtext The Doctor and The Master. Kissing your opponent to unbalance them! I don't approve of what you're doing, but I'll always forgive you! Everything I am is because of your influence! No one else can kill you except me! I'll try to be good for a while because you're my friend! They have it all!!!

Some other recommendations I won't go super deep into (because this is getting long) are under the cut.

LIVE ACTION TV: Beth/Rio from Good Girls, Luther/Alice (and just Alice in general) from Luther, Klaus/Camille from The Originals (though they do get less overtly-toxic as time goes on, also the last two seasons of this show are terrible), Cal/Zoe from Lie to Me. Rita/Laura from Doom Patrol is more...fraught and angsty than outright toxic (and it's also not canon ☹️) but there's still betrayal and murder attempts. Also love of my life (and half of my otp of all otps) Irene Adler from BBC Sherlock. Rebecca Bunch from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend isn't a villain (but she has Major Problems™) BUT I'M PUTTING HER HERE ANYWAY BECAUSE THIS IS MY FAVORITE SHOW OF ALL TIME PLEASE WATCH IT.

ANIME: Sunako Kirishiki from Shiki (VASTLY underrated show, with Themes™ of the dangers of fully dehumanizing your enemy/war is hell/what does it really mean to be "a monster," ALSO her looking 12 but being 700 years old is actually story-relevant and meant to decontruct the idea of eternal youth, which I think is neat), Shinji/Asuka from Neon Genesis Evangelion, Id: Invaded which has one of my favorite Murder Ladies Inami Nahoshi (killing related to trauma/being stuck in emotional stasis, her boyfriend/accomplice is completely under her thumb, but she goes ballistic when she gets separated from him), Akuma No Riddle (which I go back and forth on whether I think is actually good or not but there are SO many villainous gals there so I must stan), and Baccano (one character is in love with another because he so badly wants to kill her and she's just...into that).

OTHER MEDIA: Umineko When They Cry (visual novel--PLENTY of lady villains and also extremely deranged lesbians), Do Revenge (movie--convoluted friendship, pRoBLeMaTiC female protagonists), The Perfection (movie--one of my favorites!!! this relationship is fucked-up), Kasane (manga), Sunken Garden (opera--SOPRANO VILLAIN IS MY DREAM ROLE; sadly no recording/album exists, but I will keep everyone updated), my girl Margaret of Anjou (Shakespeare's Henry V (mainly parts 2 and 3) and Richard III--this woman is unhinged), Marisa Coulter (and her relationship with Asriel) from the His Dark Materials book series (there's also a TV show, but I haven't seen it), Black Death (movie--unsettling female villain), Kill Boksoon (this is basically Women's Wrongs: The Movie), Thrill Me (musical), and if you want Songs About Codependent Love then PLEASE check out English goth rock band Creeper's album Sex, Death & the Infinite Void and its follow-up American Noir.

THINGS THAT ARE ON MY TO WATCH/READ LIST BECAUSE THEY CONTAIN FEMALE VILLAINS AND/OR UNHEALTHY COUPLES: Phantom Thread (movie), The Traitor Baru Cormorant (book series), Interview with the Vampire (the TV show), Dracula 2020 (TV miniseries), Mortal Engines (book series), Stalker x Stalker (webcomic), The Monster of Elendhaven (book), The Wicked and the Willing (book), Magic Knight Rayearth (manga and anime--they apparently diverge at some point), Hold the Dark (movie), The Luminous Dead (book), From Dusk till Dawn: The Series, and the 2014 BBC TV series The Musketeers.

[arbiterlexultionis]

The whole shebang is absolutely wonderful I’ve got my one(1) brain cell firing on all cylinders, but for no I’m just gonna put my thoughts about Danny’s fighting ability and vigilante skills. A lot of the stuff I’ve seen so far has had Danny technically being the one who’s been a vigilante longer and having some skills but no where near Bruce’s level because of how long Bruce spent training. This does kinda make sense, and offers a whole bunch of opportunities around Danny learning from and training under Bruce for ✨Familial Bonding✨ but I personally am super fond of making Danny surprisingly competent for someone who was thrown into the life of a kid hero with no mentor.

Bruce has a fancy shmancy college edumancation that gives him a massive edge with a lot of the more technical and investigative areas of vigilantism, and that should show and at the same time give plenty of chances for Danny to sit criss cross applesauce on the floor with stars in his eyes while Bruce picks apart a case, thinking of how amazing it would have been to have that kind of skill when dealing with all the possession/impersonation/evil fruitloop schemes etc etc.

But Danny does have his specialties. Firstly, he grew up in the house of mad scientist. I’ve already made a post about Danny being One Smart Cookie, and while I don’t think I would apply it to this to as extreme as an extent as I did in that post Danny being really good with tech could be nice, and you could also make it funny. The only people Maddie and Jack ever really talked science with were each other, they probably needed a lot of weird purpose built equipment, parts and tools because of them building Ghost Stuff and Jack was kinda scatterbrained at times. All this came together to give the Fenton parents no reason to talk in a way that could be even somewhat coherent to normal people, and as such they did not. This, in combination with Danny just being born into mad science and thinking ray guns, dimensional portals, force fields and who knows what else are just normal science fair projects leads to Danny pretty much never learning any of the proper terms for anything or the official way of doing things, instead learning Fentonese. He is fully capable of tearing the Batmobile apart and putting it back together better than he found it, can make a death ray out of a toaster and building force field generators out of washing machines but has no knowledge about how normal people do science. The first time he sat down with Bruce to make gadgets he, after spending days on end convincing him that he Knows What He’s Doing and Is Technologically Talented, looked his new kinda dad-ish dead in the eye and went “the fucks a capacitor? That’s not a capackitom, that’s a [insert name of ultra obscure type of cheese that Bruce instantly recognizes because he a weird rich dude].” Danny gets kicked out of the workshop, sneaks back in and builds a jet pack. Which he then drops at Bruce’s feet before looking up at him with puppy dog eyes like a cat that just “gifted” their human a dead bird. This could also go into Danny learning to speak Batman, as he’s already fluent in one flavor of weirdo language. Bruce reciprocates and learns to speak Danny. To outsiders it looks completely unhinged and makes zero sense, but to them it’s perfectly understandable. This could also go with how the other bat kids learn “hrn” speak to lesser extent than Danny, they also learn Danny Speak to a lesser extent than Bruce. “How was your day?” Danny, face scrunching up: “Wisconsin” *hisses like a ghost cat*

Danny other specialty is combat, plain and simple. Some say that experience is the best teacher you can have and if there’s one thing chronically ill, sickly Danny has an utterly horrifying and heartbreaking amount of, its combat experience. Depending on how long he was doing the whole Phantom thing for before everything went to crap, he could have been fighting for his life for years. And if we’re going Immortal 14 Year Old, when it’s Win or Die the one and only option is to win, no matter how many times you have to get torn limb from limb to do so. While pretty much the entire league fights a lot of people, the overwhelming majority of their opponents are just normal people. On the other hand, the only “normal” people Danny ever fought were the GIW, who in the DC verse would probably be kinda dumb and held back by their own prejudice but actually trained and dangerous-ish or at the very least have frigen’ jetpacks, sci-fi weapons, tanks and jets like they did in the show, the Red Huntress, who is the goddamn Red Huntress, and his parents, a mom who is a master combatant that if translated into the DC verse could believably wind up as roughly equal to a member of the batfam super early in their career/while still a young kid and a father with ridiculous strength and arguably CQC skills that while not cape and cowl level could pose a serious threat in when combined with his strength and size kinda like an Off-brand Bane with laser guns who’s ranged fighting style of choice can be described as “Accuracy by Volume of fire”.

Other then them all his opponents were full on superhuman’s/giant animal monsters with at least 3 powers each, decades if not century’s to hone their skills, occasionally high tech weaponry and/or obscure abilities that range from “scary if you stop and think about it”(pretty sure the box ghost has shown the ability to control stuff that he finds in box’s. Everything Comes In Boxes. Including grenades. He also got his hands on Pandora’s Box and used it to wreak havoc.) all the way to “damn near unbeatable.”

Depending on how long he was acting as the protector of Amity, he could have very easily had literally everything and the kitchen sink thrown at him dozens of times over and came out on top again and again. I like the idea of him not having any prior training from his mom, being thrust into the life of a vigilante with nothing but talent, wits and the will to never give up no matter the odds. But by the time he meets Batman, covered in blood looking like death warmed over, he has had more skill and experience than any one deserves to have no choice but to gain forced upon him. Powers or no, he is a force of nature on the battlefield. Sneak attacks are blocked and dodged before he even realizes he’s moving because of all the times he wasn’t able to block or dodge Skulker phasing out of the ground beneath his feet to sink a blade into his ribcage. He can drag Robin to the ground and barely a second later bullets scream through where they had both been standing because of all the times he didn’t realize he was in his own mothers sights before he felt the white hot burn of plasma and spent the next hours sobbing in his closet as quietly as he could while trying to get the bleeding to stop. Lessons that no one should ever have to learn were carved, burned and beaten into his flesh far to many times for him to ever let even a single member of his new family learn them while he still lives(and he will always live, always always always. He has no choice.) All the experience he has with dealing with completely new abilities, both his own and his enemies, on the fly makes him a bizarrely good strategist despite his age and demeanor. He picks apart powers, fighting styles and technology without even realizing he’s doing it, pulling countermeasure and plans out of nowhere like it’s nothing. Once Bruce figures out he has this skill, he nurtures it and helps Danny figure out what and how he does it other than it just being a base instinct by the time they met.

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[hair-clip-trash]

I've been on pro ana Tumblr on and off for an embarrassingly long time now (7 years) which means I've gotten to witness what I call "the tiktokification of ed spaces". 4 years ago in terms of text posts the talk about exercise to the talk about restriction ratio was heavily skewed towards restriction... but now it's almost 50/50? Before (also 4 years ago b/c that was my most active time) you maybe got a post about books every once in a while but now it's e v e r y w h e r e. The ana to mia ratio has skewed far more towards ana than before. The average thinspo is less based around an aesthetic and more basic. Ppl are a lot more unhinged while putting on a waaaayyyy better mask of being perfectly normal. I also feel like the shblr and edblr overlap keeps shrinking by the year (on the edblr side at least, shblr talks about both all the time [maybe b/c it's normalized on tiktok to have food issues, but cutting is still very much taboo]). I don't have any data to back this up, these are just my observations as someone with a near photographic memory who's been in ed and sh spaces for longer than TikTok has been popular and noticed some changes.

[h-worksrambles]

  I’m delighted to hear that people seemed to like my comparison of Max’s voices. And when I floated the idea of doing a similar comparison for Sam’s voices, people seemed keen. Now, Sam has had less voices than Max over the years, three currently, but fortunately, I have a lot to say about all of them. Sam is probably my favourite character in the series, and his voices over the years have given him a lot of charming little nuances. I will do my best to keep this to a voice comparison and not a shameless Sam appreciation post, but we’ll see...   I want to start by summing up one of the key things that I think makes Sam tick, and what I believe makes a good Sam voice. And that is that Sam is NOT the straight man of the duo...but he LOOKS like he is. Everything about Sam’s design makes him look relatively normal compared to Max. He’s a big dog which people associate with affection and friendliness. Sam wears clothing like every other character while Max is canonically nude, specifically a full suit which also doubles to make him look like a consumate professional. He’s also slightly more humanoid in appearance, compared to Max’s stumpy shaped body and massive head. All of this makes you think, ‘oh, this guy’s a sensible, professional detective compared to the insane rabbit next to him’.    Then he opens his mouth and tells you cheerfully about how Max made a clown choke on his own wig during their last case and it was the funniest, most adorable thing he’d ever seen. And THAT’s when you know this guy is a total enabler every bit as unhinged as his partner. A good Sam voice is able to make Sam sound perfectly normal at first glance, but all it takes is a minute’s conversation to learn that he’s ABSOLUTELY not.

  Anyway, let’s start as we did last time at Hit the Road. I don’t think it’s a bold statement to say that Bill Farmer is a terrific voice actor, but he does a splendid job here. Sam & Max has always had an element of noir parody, and a tongue in cheek take on detective fiction. The second Sam opens his mouth, you can instantly spot the Humphrey Bogart-esque voice he’s going for. Sam is supposed to put you in mind of a stoic, by-the-book noir detective. He sounds like he could have walked right of a black-and-white movie from the 50s. More than that, he sounds like a professional. Then you listen to what he’s actually saying and you realise...

Oh my god, this guy is a jerk!      Farmer’s Sam is absolutely Sam at his snarkiest. Most of his dialogue slips in some subtle dig at whoever he’s talking to. He and Max’s banter is quite dry and cutting, but still feels very natural (especually in the classic ‘lousy golfer’ exchange, which I think pretty much everyone in the fandom has memorised after that one fan animation). Just listen to how many roasts he dishes out in this game.   “Excuse us, but we need some help and although you seem dangerously unequipped brain wise, we’ve come to you for advice.”

  It means that he can shrug off everything, no matter how bizarre, as perfectly normal, which sells you further on that deceptive lunacy.   Sam also keeps up that air of faux-professionalism even when he’s being as un-professional as possible. Whether’s he shrugging off the flirtatious advances of a bungee-jumping instructor or getting into silly fights with a kid in the line, Sam never stops acting like he’s the star of his own personal movie. He’s got a severe case of ‘protagonist entitlement’, which makes his propensity to steal everything that’s not nailed down kind of fitting. I love the accent, I love the performance and I love his snark. I really wish we’d gotten that 2004 game so we could hear him for a little longer.

“This is so degrading.” “Shut up and dance.”

  Then we have the late, great Harvey Atkin from the cartoon, probably the most different and unique take on Sam, but still a very good one. Everything in the animated series is more cartoonish and over-the-top. So Sam’s pretence of professionalism becomes more of a jolly sense of bluster. He’s still very much a man (er, dog) on the case, but he’s much less dry and much more upbeat. That’s a lot like what I noticed with Rob Tinker’s Max, and it does help to give them a mutual high energy as they bounce off each other. While I personally like Sam to be a little quieter, and to hide that mad streak a little more, I still really enjoy this approach. It’s certainly the kind of voice you’d expect from a giant talking dog and fits very well with the fast-paced nature of the cartoon.

What Atkin absolutely nails, more than any other voice, is Sam’s temper. Being much louder and cartoonish in general means he can go hard on the moments where Sam gets mad. And that’s great because Sam has always been the more short tempered of the two. Max may be very violent but he’s not exactly one to get angry. Like I said last time, he’s more guarded with his emotions and more easy going. Sam is a lot more insecure and has much more things that set him off. Imply he’s bad as his job? Make fun of him for being a dog? Make a crack about his weight? Hurt Max in any way? All of those things can leave you with a very angry, 6ft tall dog with VERY large teeth.

‘Pinkbellies. I hated those. To this DAY I hate those. CURSE YOU MELON HARGAVES!!!”     Atkin sells ‘angry Sam’ very well, especially when it contrasts with how jovial he is the rest of the time. Atkin’s Sam is certainly a sharp contrast coming directly off of Farmer, but it’s an excellent performance in it’s own right.

  Last of all we have David Nowlin, by far the longest-running Sam voice, between all three Telltale games, Poker Night 2 and This Time It’s Virtual. And this is probably my favourite voice for Sam. Now if you listen to his first few performances, you can really hear a resemblance between Bill Farler’s performance and David Nowlin’s. And that’s partly because, if you read the interviews on the Sam & Max website, you’ll see Nowlin was actually a huge fan of Farmer’s performance and consciously tried to emulate it.   But overtime, his performance morphs into something distinct. In TTIV especially, his performance becomes a little less stoic and a little more upbeat. Ther’s a charming quiet affability to his voice somewhere between Farmer’s casual snark and Arkin’s cheerful enthusiasm.  And I really like that for Sam. It’s like he’s able to treat the most bizarre scenarios like they’re a typical Tuesday event. Being in this line of work alongside Max of all people for so long means nothing can phase him. His quiet delivery also re-captures a quirk of Farmer’s Sam. It’s one thing to sarcastically insult someone, it’s another to do so in a perfectly nice and civil tone. He can be biting or downright sinister in the most pleasant voice possible. A classic case of ‘beware the quiet ones’. “Max, do you have a piece of paper handy?” “You want to write down the phone number?” “(perfectly level tone) I remember the number. I want to write myself a reminder to smother you with a pilow in your sleep.”   The other key difference is that his Sam is a lot less confident and a lot more vulnerable. His tone is quieter, he’s a lot more easily flustered, and, much like Atkin’s version, it’s much easier to make him mad. And that’s honestly really interesting because, when you think about it, Sam is very insecure. No-one’s asking him to dress up in a suit or carry himself like a detective. That’s something he does himself because he so desperately wants to be cool. The best example of that is the Noir Sam segment. Sam narrates to himself on long, impassioned tangents out of his despair for Max, only for others to call him out for doing so, and he has to sheepishly apologise before gettng back to the point. “You. Me. The guy who delivers your deep dish pizzas...all of us bubbling over with sin and corruption and-” “Is there a point to any of this? Or are you just trying to get me depressed?” “(pleasant rational tone) Sorry, just thinking out loud. (furious again) WHERE WERE WE?!”

  And speaking of, 303 is probably Nowlin’s best performance. I think Atkin still has the best ‘angry voice’, but I love the growl of Nowlin’s delivery here. It’s a very dog-like angry performance if that makes sense, that walks a line between being aggressive but still funny, and his instant swaps from grief-stricken rage to calm conversation are hillarious.   The best way I can say it is that, much like how Rob Tinkler is my favorite Max because he was able to capture the essentials of the character while still adding his own dimension, Nowlin does the same for Sam. He hits all the beats of what I’d want from a good Sam: the business-like detective caricature, a quiet, pleasant, demanor that masks an unhinged enabler who can say the most nonsense stuff with a straight face. A barely concealed temper that boils up when you say the wrong thing to him. All whle giving the character a layer of subtle insecurity that works well both for comedy and sincere character development. Sam is a self conscious dork playing at being a cool, capable detective. Always putting up an act, and not doing a very good job maintaining it. And I think that especially helps in Season Three. It’s very easy to feel sorry for this more vulnerable Sam when he’s going through hell, but it never gets so overdone that he stops being funny.

  Ok, if this goes on much longer, it IS just going to be spiel on why I relate way too hard to a talking dog. So I’ll just say this. All three of these voice actors do a splendid job and they all have their strengths. I love Farmer’s effortless noir parody and merciless snark. I love Harvey Atkin’s jovial energy masking a fierce temper, and I love Nowlin’s quiet brand of madness and extra layer of humanity. They’re all funny and likable while still being complete jackasses in their own ways.   So many years, and not one dud performance along either of these leads. If you ask me, that’s pretty impressove. A lot of talented people put a lot of effort into bringing this duo to life, and I think it more than paid off.

[endlessthxxghts]

MY BEST FRIEND MUTHAFUCKIN DID IT AGAIN.

From the homage of their first kiss to Connie's sweet ol' heart to Steve's fucking dumbass... And the manifestation of Javi's self doubt?

Madeline... seriously... you're some kind of fucking writing Goddess, I worship at your alter every damn day of my life.

“Chucho is right, you two are no worse than a pair of teenagers…” Maria has to be my favorite supporting character, though. She’s so unhinged, and she takes zero shit. I LOVE her. Also.. this line reminded me of when we talked about all the things Chucho has potentially walked in on with these two, and I could physically feel my cheeks getting hot with second-hand embarrassment yet again…That poor man.😭😭😭

“Does he always smell that good? God, I wished your father smelled like that, the man smells like a sweaty sock. Javi, what kind of cologne do you-” THIS MADE ME HOWL DUDE LMFAOOOOO, I AM OSITA’S MOM IN THIS MOMENT. If I ever got to find out what he smelled like, I really don’t think I’d be able to stop the shit spewing from my mouth. I just know he smells so fucking good.

I’m not quoting anything Steve said because the dumb fuck doesn’t deserve any highlights this chapter, however, I will say: you wrote him so STUPIDLY good that I’ve never felt such anger over a character IN MY LIFE. Like… how can you be so oblivious and ignorant.. how can you think.. oh right now would be a great time to bring up my buddy’s ex and how he left her at the alter right before he’s going to step up to another alter and marry someone else?? God, dude. I just know if Connie was there to witness Steve’s fucking comment, he’d get a smack upside the head FOR SURE.

“He knew he was a better man. A stronger man. A man who was worthy of the love and compassion you had shown him from the moment you two had met. Or was he?” YES, HE IS, DAMN IT.😭 YES. HE. IS.😭 Writing for Javier is complex. Honestly, it scares me to write him because of how much we can analyze from his personality (which is a big reason as to why I’ve been reluctant to post anything for him). With that being said, though.. Madeline, you literally write him so perfectly. You pull out the softer parts of him so naturally, and you show how easy it is for him to fall back into his hold habits when given the right trigger (fucking Steve🤦🏻). You say this chapter is a bit more angsty than normal, but I say—given his character—this is exactly on par with Javi’s character development, especially since he’s legit getting married (something he thought he didn’t deserve for SO LONG). This is exactly the conflict point—and the way you handled the resolution!!—your story needed at this part, and you deserve to be proud of yourself with this chapter. I know that I, and so many others, are so so proud of you. Of everything you’ve done for their beautiful story. For giving Javi the love he finally deserved and will always deserve.���

And finally… the SMUT..?! C’mon.. we know who is writing this story…. Do I really need to say more? But okay- I will say this…. The way you wrote the desperation in their makeup sex……. I’m genuinely foaming at the mouth, I don’t know if you understand just how feral it truly made me.👹👹👹

I’m sorry this was so long, but FINAL NOTE, I PROMISE. Your fic has always felt like a book to me. Although, this chapter? This chapter especially feels like a piece of literature—with the way you set up the plot, the conflict point, transitioned into the resolution: everything was out of this damn world, it was so perfect. Even after their story is completed, I’m coming back to these two. They bring me so much comfort, and you incorporated so many things that I actually relate to on a personal level, so I swear I think I have an unhealthy attachment, but IT’S ALRIGHT my therapist can deal with that.. anyway, I’m just trying to say: you’re so fucking amazing and talented and I can’t express enough how excited I am to see where your writing takes you this year🥹🥹🥹 i love you so much🥹🥹💚 thank you 4 existing <3

Chapter 18: Hole in None

Summary: During your bridal shower, Steve takes Javi golfing. When they return, the way Javi is acting has you questioning everything you knew about your relationship.

Word Count: 12.1K (getting back to my roots of a short chapter LMAO)

Warnings: SMUT(18+) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up irl pls), oral (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint?), makeup sex and getting caught (The Murphy's will never catch a break) ANGST (I'm so sorry!!), Hurt/comfort, Javi being super insecure, you being confused as hell, Steve being an absolute idiot

A/N: HELLO. IT'S ME! I DO EXSIST! I am genuinely SO sorry that this chapter has taken a million years to happen. December has been so busy and I have had no time to write, so I really, really appreciate all of your patience 🥺 This is a lil different than any other chapter we've had so far in the NTL universe, it's a lil angsty-er than normal but ya girl only believes in happy endings so don't fret!!! Also poorly beta'd bc I have the stomach flu and I am 100% there are mistakes in this chapter that I'm sure I missed 🫠

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“Do I really have to do this? This thing hasn’t even started yet and I’m already exhausted.” 

“Yes, Hermosa, I do think that most people do expect the bride to be at her own bridal shower.” Javi laughed, staring into the bathroom mirror as he ran his hands through the dark curls of his hair, fixing them into place as you stood next to him, finishing the rest of your longer than usual makeup routine to prepare for being the center of attention against your will for the next several hours. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful that your co-workers wanted to throw you a bridal shower before your wedding, now only a few weeks away- the sentiment of the whole thing was incredibly thoughtful. Your 3rd grade teammates had even found a way to get in touch with your family to make sure that your mom, aunts and cousins felt included in the event, too. You should have been thrilled about the fact that the people who loved you most in the world were coming together to celebrate your upcoming wedding and quite literally showering you with gifts, but if there was one thing you hated more than anything else, it was the social exhaustion that came from having a party planned for no one but you. 

You had really tried to convince Maria, Estelle, Linda, and now, your mom that you didn’t need a bridal shower- your wedding was going to be small, and since you had already been living on your own, there weren’t a lot of things you needed as you started married life together. Unfortunately, neither of those arguments were going to stop those ladies from going all out for you, leaving you feeling like your bridal shower was turning out to be even bigger than your actual wedding. 

“Don’t you think I could just get a cardboard cutout of myself and use that instead? All these ladies love to talk so much that I don’t think they would even know the difference.” You sighed, giving yourself a once over in the mirror before putting away the rest of your makeup as Javi snuck behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a soft kiss into your shoulder as he pressed his chest against your back. 

“I have a feeling that someone would notice.” Javi chuckled, a soft grin spreading across his face as your eyes met in the mirror, his smile and sweet eyes enough to calm your nerves for at least a moment. “I would definitely notice.” 

“Well that’s easy for you to say, you don’t even have to be there.” You huffed, letting a little pout fall from your lips as Javi playfully shook you in his grasp, trying your best not to smile as you tried to keep up your unenthused facade. “It’s not too late to trade. You can go to the bridal shower and I can go golfing with you and Steve.” 

Even though Javi had insisted he was more than happy to stay at the shower with you, Maria had insisted that Javi find another way to spend his time so the spotlight of the day could be on you, and not him being distractingly handsome to everyone else there. Lucky for Javi, that meant extra time to spend with Steve while Connie was at your shower- not so lucky for you that Maria had banished your future husband from attending an event for your own wedding. 

“I honestly may have to take you up on that. Steve must have needed an ego boost when I let him pick what he wanted to do while you and Connie were at the shower because he knows I can’t golf for shit.” Javi’s overdramatic sigh and roll of his eyes was enough to make you break into a little giggle, turning your head enough to press a quick kiss onto his cheek before reaching your hand under his chin, giving his jaw a little jiggle. “It’ll go by fast, Osita, I promise. And then, when we get home,” he paused, pressing another kiss into your shoulder and up towards your neck, digging his fingers a little tighter into your sides as he rasped into your ear, “I’ll take as much time as you want to destress you.” 

“As much time as I want? Bold of you to assume that the dog is gonna give us that long.” You snickered as a happy Bear trotted into your bathroom right on cue, his tail loudly thumping against the bathroom cabinets from his happy wags as he wedged himself between you and Javi. 

The newest furry member of your household had been a well loved addition, but if there was one thing Bear had no concept of, it was privacy. Your dog had become a constant shadow to you and Javi anywhere and everywhere in your house, including your in your bedroom, even when you were, well, not sleeping. It hadn’t helped that Javi had already formed such a soft spot for Bear, and had let him on your bed from the moment he stepped foot into the apartment, and now, your dog and his clingy personality had become a new obstacle to try and navigate in your sex life. 

“Someone needs to tell his dad that he’ll survive if he gets left out of the bedroom for a half hour, huh? That he’s adorable, but that he can be a little cockblock, can’t he?” Squatting down next to Bear, you wrapped your hands around his face, scratching behind his ears as you mockingly serenaded him, raising an eyebrow at Javi. 

“He just sounds so sad when he whines and he’s trapped outside the door.” Javi grumbled, kneeling down to join you, patting Bear’s stomach, now much thicker and fuller than it was a few weeks ago after you had first brought him home, skinny and neglected from his lack of care from his previous owners. 

“You say trapped like we're kicking him out to the streets when we close the door on him. He’s adorable and sweet, but he’s a dog, Jav, he’ll be okay.” You smirked, playfully scolding Javi as you peppered Bear’s head with kisses, making his tail thump even harder as it wagged back and forth. “Tell your dad you’ll be just fine, won’t you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Javi groaned, knowing damn well you were right, even though he couldn’t bring himself to admit he had become an absolute softie for your new dog. “Alright, Hermosa, we gotta get you to this shower before Maria yells at me for making you late.” Pushing his hands against his knees, Javi let out a little grunt as he pushed himself back up to stand, checking the time on the silver watch wrapped around his wrist. 

“Wow, so eager to get rid of me, you must really be excited to go get your ass kicked in golf.” You teased, now following suit and straightening out your dress as you stood, throwing your arms around Javi’s neck, pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a little kiss on his lips. “Sure you don’t want me to golf for you?” 

“I’m sure, you dork.” 

After Javi had insisted on giving Bear more than his fair share of treats before the two of you left for the day, you were on the road to Maria’s, Javi insisting that he drop you off, instead of letting you take the treacherous 2 minute drive by yourself. As you drove down Maria’s street, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of walking up to her house for an end of the school year party almost exactly a year ago. A party that had ultimately turned a handsome stranger from the Laredo Sheriff's department into your future husband, now sitting in the driver’s seat on the way to your bridal shower. You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at the irony, leaning your head over onto Javi’s broad shoulder as you pulled up to Maria’s house. 

“What’s up, Osita?” Javi asked, a twinge of confusion in his voice at the content and calm of your demeanor as the two of you arrived at the event that you had been seemingly dreading for days. 

“I just- It was probably a year ago to the day the last time that we were at Maria’s house. Crazy to think that a year later we’re getting married and here for my bridal shower. I don’t know, a year ago I never would have thought I would have met someone I love so much, let alone be getting married, building a house, owning a dog, I- I’m just really happy that the department made you come to do that stupid presentation. You’ve made this year the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you, Jav.” 

A tender silence hung in the air as Javi leaned over the center console, gently bringing his palm to cup the side of your face, his thumb tracing circles along your cheek, letting his sweet brown eyes lock with yours as a soft smile spread across his face. “I love you too, Osita.” His words barely left his mouth above a whisper, bringing his lips to yours. The two of you could have stayed like this forever, lost in the moment of your love for each other, but unfortunately, the world had other plans. 

“JAVIER. DIOS MIO. CAN YOU KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER FOR 3 SECONDS?” Maria shouted, banging at the driver’s side window, the aggressive thumps of her hand against the glass making the two of you practically jump out of your skin. 

“Jesus Fucking Christ….” Javi whispered, clutching his hand over his chest, trying to steady his heart rate back to normal, the two of you looking at each other in pure terror. 

“If you’re going to drop her off and make a scene in my driveway, the least you can do is help an old woman out before you leave, Javier!” Maria demanded, still rapping her knuckles against the glass, the two of you trying to keep from dying of embarrassment as you exited out of the car. 

“Sorry Maria…” The two of you grimaced, still trying to avoid direct eye contact with her before she decided to scold you more. 

“Chucho is right, you two are no worse than a pair of teenagers. Come on, we only have an hour before everyone arrives and I need you and that wildly blonde haired boy to help me move chairs.” Shaking her head in disappointment, Maria was already halfway up the driveway and into the house as you and Javi trailed behind her, glancing at each other in confusion as to who she was referring to, until you noticed the Murphy’s car parked on the side of the street, realizing that Steve and Connie must have beaten you there. 

Before you even had a chance to make it a foot into the house, you were greeted by an overbearing swarm of people rushing to say hello and give you a hug, already feeling overwhelmed 30 seconds into the start of your shower, and these were all people you knew. Your mom was the first to make her way through the crowd, squeezing you in a death grip hug, even though you had just seen her last night after picking her up from the airport and dropping her off at her hotel. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe the day is almost here! My baby girl is finally getting married! Ugh, you look beautiful sweetheart!” Your mom beamed, planting a chaste kiss on your cheek before making her way over to Javi, squeezing him just as hard. “C’mere, don’t think that you get to escape hugs from me too, Javi.” Javi looked over at you, trying his best not to laugh at everyone’s dramatics, knowing how stressed you already were, and that no one’s overly excited attitude was doing you any favors. 

“Ouch on the finally there, Mom. What do you need help with?” You asked, noticing that your mom had been holding on to Javi for a touch longer than what was probably appropriate while everyone else continued to hustle and bustle around Maria’s house. 

“Does he always smell that good? God, I wished your father smelled like that, the man smells like a sweaty sock. Javi, what kind of cologne do you-” 

“Mom! Jesus Christ.” You interjected, burying your hands in your face.

“Sorry, sorry! Honey, you don’t need to help with anything, it’s your shower!” Your mom swatted her hand at you, shaking her head in disbelief that you would ask to help, even though she knew better than anyone it was not in your nature to sit back on the sidelines and let other people do the work for you. 

“Why don’t you come help me set up decorations?” A soft voice replied behind you, making you whip your head around as their hand rested on your shoulder. 

“Connie!” You grinned, throwing her arms around her, relieved to find someone who wasn’t going to drive you absolutely crazy for the next hour of party prep. “It’s so good to see you, thank you so much for coming!” 

“Hey, Sweetheart!” a lower voice grunted from behind a stack of folding chairs making its way to the backyard. 

“Wow, Maria put you to work too, Steve? Yikes, she’s running a tight ship around here.” You and Connie snickered as Steve set down his stack of chairs, revealing his already sweaty and frustrated face, considering Maria had probably made him carry 6 trips worth of seats up and down the stairs since he and Connie had arrived. 

“You’re tellin’ me. Hey, make yourself useful and pick up some of these chairs, lazy ass. Sooner we get this set up, the sooner I kick your butt at golf.” Steve smirked, gesturing over at Javi, still standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips. 

“In that case, I’m taking one chair at a time.” Javi sighed, pressing a quick kiss to your temple in stride towards Steve, giving him a swift hug and a pat on the back before being interrupted by a shrill and demanding voice. 

“JAVIER. I HEARD THAT. IF I DON’T SEE YOU WITH A STACK OF CHAIRS IN YOUR HANDS THE NEXT TIME YOU’RE OUTSIDE, IT’D BETTER BE BECAUSE YOU ARE DEAD.” Maria shouted from across the house, making everyone’s faces freeze in fear. 

“You heard the woman. Chop, chop, Peña.” Steve chuckled to himself before passing off half of the chairs over to Javi, and walking towards the back of the house as Javi picked up his share, begrudgingly trailing behind Steve. 

“Alright, we should probably get to work on decorations before Maria finds us standing around for too long. I know you’re the bride, but I have a feeling that holds very little value to her until everything is set up.” Connie shrugged, nodding towards the backyard where the shower was being held. 

“You’re definitely right, and I would prefer to live through my bridal shower in order to make it to my actual wedding.” 

With all of the helping hands around the house, and Maria’s commanding dictatorship over shower setup, all of you had finished with time to spare, leaving your mom and co-workers to happily chat and gossip amongst themselves as you and Connie found your way to say goodbye to Steve and Javi, one of whom was looking much more excited about departing for golf than the other. 

“Have fun, ladies. Any last words for your future husband before I absolutely obliterate him on the golf course?” Steve snickered, giving Javi a soft punch on the shoulder. 

“Shut the fuck up, Murph.” Javi groaned, rolling his eyes as he braced himself for the next 3 hours of harassment from his former partner. 

“Don’t be too hard on him, okay Steve? He gets grumpy when he loses, so just a reasonable amount of ass whooping, nothing too drastic.” You teased, now playfully punching on the other side of his arm, you, Steve, and Connie laughing to yourselves at Javi’s fed up frown. 

“Says the one who literally pouted for hours after insisting we play "Sorry" and then she lost.” Javi smugly murmured, raising an eyebrow at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well someone wasn’t very sorry about it, were they… You know what, Steve? I changed my mind, go ahead and kick his ass for me.” A mischievous grin grew across your face, bursting out into giggles as Javi flung his arms around you, giving you a squeeze and shaking you in his grasp. 

“Pendejo. Alright, you need anything else before I go get my ass kicked, Hermosa?” Javi asked, pressing a kiss into your hair. You were about to speak, but stopped yourself for a moment, looking Javi up and down, admiring how handsome he looked in the khakis and navy blue polo he had picked out this morning. You’d been so worried and worked up about the day that you hadn’t really had a chance to get a good look at him until now, and God, part of you wished you hadn’t taken the time to really take it all in as he stood next to you. You knew there was nothing you could really do about it now, but that wasn’t about to stop you from at least getting a little taste. 

“Uh yeah, I uh- actually um, I uh, I scraped my finger earlier on one of the banners I was setting up and I think I got a papercut. I forgot to ask Maria about it earlier, but um, can you show me where the bandaids are upstairs again?” You tried your best to sound as casual as possible, but Javi knew just as well as you that there was no way in hell that you actually needed a bandaid. His brow scrunched in a slight confusion, head cocked to the side as if to say “I think I know where this is going and I’m not really sure it’s going to work” before giving you a little shrug, gesturing up towards the bathroom at the top of the stairwell, trying to keep his smug grin hidden between his lips. 

“Yeah, I uh- here, let me show you where they are and I can get you one before we go.” Before Steve or Connie could even muster a word in protest, Javi was already dragging you halfway up the stairs, barely letting you make it to the top of the stairway before closing the bathroom door behind you. 

“Band Aid, really? That was the best you could come up with?” Javi laughed under his breath, letting his hands roam down your sides and under the hem of your dress as his fingers dug into the meat of your ass, the heat of his breath tickling your skin where his lips met your neck, gently sucking at your pulse point, making a tiny moan escape from your mouth. 

“I needed to come up with something to get you alone for long enough to give you a proper goodbye before you left.” 

“And a Band Aid was the way to do that?” 

“Oh shut up.” You giggled, draping your arms over Javi’s neck, letting your hands roam through the curls at the nape of his neck before pulling him in tighter to let his lips crash into yours with an electric intensity, his fingertips gripping deeper into your flesh. 

“I don’t think-” Javi muttered between kisses, “I don’t think a bandaid is gonna buy us enough time to do anything, Hermosa.” 

“I know. I just needed this. Just needed to kiss your stupidly handsome face. I needed something before you left me to fend for myself. Plus,” you paused, pulling back to see the lovestruck grin spread between Javi’s cheeks, “only fair that I get a chance to recreate our first kiss.” You snickered, gesturing to the interior of Maria’s bathroom, where you had found yourself with Javi almost a year ago to the day, your lips meeting for the first time as you sat on the ledge of the sink after Javi had came to your aid when a shattered beer bottle had landed in your leg. 

“Fuck, I forgot our first kiss was in Maria’s bathroom. Real fucking smooth of me, huh?” Javi grumbled, rolling his eyes at his past self for letting your first kiss be in the bathroom of his Mom’s best friend’s house. 

“Smooth enough for me to wanna marry you, so I guess it all worked out okay, didn’t it?” You teased, planting one last kiss on his lips before shooting him a wink and slipping out the bathroom, your face warm and tingly from the rush of excitement tucked away with Javi in your impromptu makeout session. Javi ran his hand over his face, taking a moment to try and compose himself, shaking his head to himself in shock and delight at how he found himself falling more and more in love with you every day. 

“Okay, uh- sorry, sorry about that. Just didn’t wanna have to bother Maria for anything.” You sighed, darting your eyes away from Steve and Connie, their arms crossed against their chest with almost comically smug smirks on their faces as they watched you shuffle back down the stairs, Javi reluctantly trailing behind you. 

“Yeah? How’d that bandaid work out for ya?” Steve smiled with a shit eating grin, nodding to your hands, neither of them with a bandaid anywhere in sight. You let out a gulp, trying to quickly tuck your hands behind your back, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. “Goddamn, you two gonna make it 3 hours without touching each other, or am I gonna have to bring him back here after hole 4 for a mid-round makeout?” 

“Jesus Christ, Murph, really?.” Javi grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Bye, love you. Have fun and I’ll see you soon.” Leaned over, snaking his arm around your waist to plant one last kiss in your hair. 

“Not soon enough, apparently…” 

“Murphy…” 

“Stop makin’ out and I’ll stop givin’ you shit.” 

“Touche…” You muttered under your breath, just loud enough to make the 4 of you burst into laughter, easing the uncomfortable tension that you had brought upon yourself from your antics. “Love you too, have fun getting your ass kicked.” 

“Yes, yes, out, out, out! It’s only 10 minutes until guests arrive and your truck is taking up all the room in the driveway! Out!” Stampeding into the living room, Maria waved her hands at the boys, quite literally shooing them out of the house after overhearing your goodbyes. Giving a quick wave to Javi as Maria kicked him and Steve to the curb, you caught Javi’s head whipping around for one last glance at you before you left, giving you a once over with his eyes and a soft smile on his face as the front door shut behind him. 

Truth be told, your shower ended up being way less painful than you expected it would be. In all honesty, it was actually somewhat enjoyable. The fact that your mom, co-workers, and Connie had put into helping everyone come together to celebrate you filled your heart with so much more joy than you could have predicted- your friends and family had bought you and Javi so many more gifts than you knew what to do with, had so many kind things to say about the two of you, and Connie had even gone out of her way to make sure that there were fun games planned for everyone to keep the need for constant socialization at bay. It really had ended up being a fun afternoon, even if it meant having to answer the same questions about your wedding, house and honeymoon plans more times than you could count. 

Javi, on the other hand, could not have been having a worse time on the golf course, getting his ass thoroughly handed to him by Steve hole after hole, wondering to himself how anyone could bring themself to genuinely enjoy the torture that had been the past two and a half hours of hacking his club into chunks of grass and loosing his golf balls in the brush. The only consoling factor was that Javi was grateful to spend time with Steve, even if it meant being berated by endless questions from him on top of his painful performance while he played. 

“You feelin’ ready for the big day?” Steve grunted, after smacking his driver against his ball from the tee box, Javi relieved that the pair were finally on the 9th and final hole. 

“Yeah, I mean- Oh fuck me-” Javi grumbled, hitting his club and watching his ball fly into a patch of trees, the opposite direction of where he was trying to aim for, “I still can’t believe I’m getting married.” 

“You and me both, Jav. I never thought I’d live to see the fuckin’ day, that’s for damn sure. Javier Peña, a married man.” Steve chuckled, slipping his club into his golf bag as Javi followed behind, grabbing what must have been the 57th golf ball from his bag this round. 

“Shut the fuck up, Murph.” Javi chuckled, shaking his head at his friends’ jab, the two of them hopping into the golf cart together to try and scavenge for Javi’s long lost ball. 

“I’m just given’ you shit, Jav. I’m fuckin’ happy for you man. Really happy. She’s a great girl. Best thing that’s ever happened to your sorry ass, I’ll tell you that much. Guess you don’t have to worry about really followin’ through this time?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re actually gonna get married this time? You’re not leavin’ her at the altar like Lorraine, huh?” As Steve laughed to himself, Javi could practically feel his stomach drop, his heart beginning to race as a wave of terrible guilt and panic washed over him at his friend’s ironic question. 

To his own shock and surprise, Javi hadn’t thought about his last lack of a wedding once since the two of you had gotten engaged. He had been so head over heels excited to spend the rest of his life with you, that the failures of his past engagement had been tucked far away in the back of his mind. But then again, no one had been so gracious as to bring up the knife to the chest that was leaving Lorraine at the altar, and no one had been so gracious as to bring it up in classic Steve Murphy fashion. 

Javi could audibly hear himself gulp, his heartbeat pounding so loud he could hear it ringing in his ears as the terrible reality of the past he had so glady forgotten about met him in a head on collision, instantly re-opening all of the cuts and wounds he had finally managed to sew together. 

The last time he almost got married, Javier Peña had astronomically fucked up the lives of every last person who cared about him, leaving nothing but chaos and heartbreak in his wake.   

Rationally, Javi could tell himself that his upcoming wedding was the polar opposite of everything that was once planned between him and Lorraine. Javi couldn’t have cared less about Lorraine. From the moment he had wearily accepted his fate, he had dreaded every moment of his future from that point on. But you were not Lorraine. 

Javi loved you. 

Javi cared about you. 

Javi wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you and give you everything in the world you could possibly want. 

But, one mention of that 8 letter name had Javi’s brain flooding with every single doubt, regret, and painful memory of his past that he had fought so hard to forget. It had his mind reeling with every uncomfortable feeling of remembering the man he had been before you had come into his life and changed him for the better. He knew he was a better man. A stronger man. A man who was worthy of the love and compassion you had shown him from the moment you two had met. 

Or was he? 

“Earth to Javi? Hello? Anyone home?” Waving his hand in front of Javi’s face, Steve stared at Javi in confusion as to why it seemed like his friend had suddenly become lost in his own world as they pulled up to the patch of trees where his ball had most likely landed. 

“Uh yeah, uh- what, sorry, um, what did you say?” Javi asked, visibly trying to shake the thoughts from his head, painfully scrunching his face and running his hand through his hair before looking back over at Steve. 

“I asked if you were gonna go get the ball or if you just wanted to add to your +200 score and drop one here instead. Hey, you okay, man?” Steve questioned, pausing for a moment before asking the later half of his statement, seeing the color flushed from Javi’s face. 

“Uh, yeah- Yeah, sorry, I just, I’m good. I’ll um, I’ll just drop a ball.” Javi muttered half to himself as he stepped out of the cart, barely paying attention enough to even remember what in the world he was even looking for in his golf bag. 

If Javi wasn’t already thankful to be on the last hole before Steve’s comment, he sure as hell was now, mindlessly whacking his golf club with no regard as to how his ball made it to the green. Any thoughts about golf, let alone any previous attempts to even try to play well had now flown out the window, creeping thoughts of self doubt and resentment crawling through Javi’s mind. The rest of the round and the entire car ride back to Maria’s were spent in an internal battle ranging in Javi’s brain, the fight between the man he used to be and the man he’d thought he’d become rearing its ugly head with a painful intensity that absolutely felt like it was consuming him whole.  

Steve, who was just as oblivious to his friend’s distraught state as he was to the idiocracy of his sarcastic question, had chalked Javi’s quiet and somber mood up to being an overly sore loser after getting mercilessly crushed at golf. Little did he know that his one silly comment had sent Javi spiraling down a trail of crushing self-doubt. 

As the pair pulled into the driveway and made their way to the backyard where a few straggling party goers still lingered, trying to monopolize their time with you to get the details of your upcoming plans for the future. Being the attentive and patient person that you were, you were trying your hardest to seem enthused and engaged with in the conversation with who you thought was Javi’s Aunt’s Cousin (at this point, you had been introduced to so many new people, you were questioning your own name), but it wasn’t long before your future husband’s big, broad body entering the backyard had you more than distracted, your face instantly lighting up at the sight of him. Peeking over his Aunt’s cousin (or cousin’s aunt, you weren’t really sure) shoulder, you bit down on your lip to try and contain your excitement, letting a little wave shake from your hand in his direction. 

Javi wished that your sweet smile and beautiful self were enough to snap him out of his funk, to see how you beamed in excitement just at the sight of him and shot him that lovestruck look he’d never get sick of- but for some twisted reason, it only made him feel worse. 

You were everything- kind, smart, funny, the most breathtaking woman he’d ever seen. But what was he? Tired? Broken? A shitty guy who had done even shitter things, who had left nothing but destruction in his path for years and years, with no regard for who it hurt, or even worse, left for dead? How was he supposed to give you everything you deserved when he sure as fuck didn’t deserve you? 

Before you had even said a word to him, you could already sense something was off about Javi’s demeanor that was due to more than just losing to Steve in golf. Even from across the backyard, his forced smile and tired brown eyes had a worried pit swirling in the bottom of your stomach, politely excusing yourself from your conversation to make your way over to Javi. 

“Hi! You guys have fun at golf? Steve didn’t kick your ass too bad?” You grinned, wrapping your arms around Javi’s waist, pressing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his lips, his mouth barely ghosting over yours in return. 

“Yeah, it was um- yeah, it was fine.” Javi nodded, trying to make a smile appear between his pursed lips. “How was the shower? You uh, you ready for Steve and I to start putting things in the truck to bring over to the new house?” 

You immediately frowned in response, cocking your head in confusion at him. “Yeah, it was great, but hey, are- are you okay? You seem really off, like more than just Steve kicking your ass at golf off. Did something happen?” 

“No, I’m- yeah, I’m good, Hermosa.” Javi’s eyes darted towards the ground, trying his best to stifle his sigh before another fake smile spread across his face, his response making you even more concerned than you were before, seeing he was clearly lying to you. As much as you wanted to problem solve right then and there to figure out what had Javi so distressed, the calls of one of the last groups of party goers wanting to say their goodbyes rang across the backyard, you flashing them a quick smile and a wave to signal you’d be over in a second. Before you could try and get anything else out of Javi, he had already backed himself away from your hands still tangled around his waist, nodding towards the group of women who were not so patiently waiting for you. “Go say goodbye, I’ll start loading stuff up.” 

“Um, I- uh, yeah, o-okay. Thanks.” You murmured, half to yourself, as Javi had already begun to walk away to find Steve to help him start carrying things out to the car, leaving you more anxious and confused with every passing second. 

With goodbyes finished, and decor and party setup cleaned up just as fast as Maria had demanded it to be put up, you and Javi made your way to your now packed car, followed by Connie and Steve, who had asked to see the progress on your new house while they were in town. You figured you’d kill two birds with one stone, inviting them over and having them help to unload gifts in the same trip, but now, given the strangely somber mood that Javi couldn’t seem to shake, you really wished it was just the two of you so you could figure out what the hell was going on. 

You and Javi piled into his truck, Steve and Connie hopping into theirs and following you down Maria’s street towards your new house. A stark silence filled the car, praying to yourself that maybe Javi just wanted to be alone before he said anything about his current state, but 5 minutes down the road without a single word falling from his lips, you had a devastating feeling that wasn’t going to be the case. 

Your leg bounced against the seat, fingers nervously drumming in your lap, letting out a quiet sigh to yourself before looking over at Javi and mustering up the courage to try and interrogate. 

“Sooooo, golf was fun? I love ya, but I think it’s probably safe to assume Steve won?” You quietly snickered, trying your best to stay nonchalant. 

“Yeah, it was good, Steve won, but that’s no surprise because I suck at golf.” Javi mumbled to himself, barely glancing your direction from behind the yellow tinted aviators perched on the bridge of his nose. Normally, if either of you had something that self-deprecating to say, it was at least followed by some sort of a joke or laugh, but his comment ended with nothing but a stoic silence as his hands gripped tighter around the steering wheel. 

“Hey, babe, it’s okay, you don’t ever golf, so it’s hard to expect yourself to be good at something you rarely ever do.” You reached over to grab his arm to reassure him, that unsettling and anxious pit beginning to grow in your stomach again with the way Javi was acting. All he could muster was a half hearted huff in response, signaling to you that whatever was happening was much bigger than a poor game of golf. 

“Javi… Baby, what’s going on? Did something happen with Steve?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“It’s clearly not nothing, Jav. Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, I told you, it’s fine.” 

“Javi, it obviously isn’t fine if this is the way you’re acting about it. Why won’t you talk to me about it? I just wanna-” 

“I told you, it’s fine, okay!? Jesus, I don’t need you to solve all my problems.”

Oh.  

You and Javi had been in arguments before, hell, you’d been in fights before, but never once in the time that you’d known him, had Javi snapped at you like this. You could practically feel yourself recoiling in your seat from the harsh tone of his voice, fighting back the tears that had instantly begun welling in your eyes. You could feel your heart in your throat, choking down a heavy gulp as your lip quivered to try and keep from crying. 

What had gone so wrong that Javi was acting like this? 

You wish you had it in you to dig it out of him, but as you pulled up the driveway of your new home, Steve and Connie right behind you, ready for a tour, the best you could muster was a quiet, “O-okay.” As soon as the car was in park, Javi was unbuckling his seatbelt and slamming the door behind him, leaving you behind in the car, trying everything in your power to not become a startled, sobbing mess. 

Wiping away the wetness pooling behind your eyelids, you swiped the back of your hand against your cheeks, taking a few deep breaths before following behind, mustering up as much courage as you could to keep your cool for however long Steve and Connie were planning to stick around before heading back to San Antonio. 

You had hoped that Steve and Connie hadn't picked up on the palpable tension brewing between you and Javi, trying your best to put on a brave face as you paraded the Murphy’s through your nearly completed house. To be quite honest, you couldn’t have recalled anything that had happened in the time that they were there, your mind racing in torment as you watched Javi brood around your new home, barely saying a word to you, let alone make any eye contact, or look in your general direction. 

As the four of you made your way upstairs, your attention was finally caught by the low lull of Steve’s laughter as he situated himself between you and Javi, grabbing you both by the shoulders and shaking you in his grasp. 

“Well I’ll be damned. Y’all got enough rooms up here to house half a baseball team! You want that many kids driving ya nuts, huh?” Steve chuckled, making his way down the hallway, peeking into the empty bedrooms of your 2nd story. 

“Steve!” Connie scolded, slapping the back of her hand against Steve’s stomach for his comment. 

“What?! I’m just sayin’! I thought y’all would want like, 2, but there’s enough room for way more than that. I mean, I guess you two are fuckin’ goin’ at it like rabbits all the time, so I can’t really be shocked.” 

“Steven Edward Murphy! Jesus Christ!” Connie snapped, shooting Steve a dangerous glare, aggressively raising an eyebrow at her husband as she gestured towards you and Javi. 

“No, it’s okay, we don’t know for sure how many we want, but we figured if we had the space we’d add the rooms and even if they’re not bedrooms, they’ll still get used.” You had it in you enough to force a half smile across your face, flashing it at Steve and Connie before looking over at Javi. 

While you hadn’t expected much of a response from him given the current situation, what you weren’t expecting was the panic stricken look painting Javi from head to toe. 

If you weren’t already worried out of your mind about what the fuck was going on with Javi, you sure as fuck were now.  

“Uh, I um- yeah.”

Those were the only words Javi was able to choke out through the audible thumps pounding in his chest as his face went ghost white, eyes peeled to the ground. 

“See, Steve? You’re making them uncomfortable! You have absolutely no filter, I swear! I’m so sorry, you guys!” Connie frantically apologized, giving Steve another hardy slap in the stomach, making him wince. 

“I’m just jokin’, Jesus Christ, sorry!” Steve grumbled, holding up his hands in defense from his wife’s accusation, sheepishly looking over at you and Javi with a little shrug. 

“No, it’s uh- no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You had given up on trying to be convincing at this point, your voice quietly shaking as you stared at Javi, now looking like a terrified, ragged shell of himself. 

What the fuck was going on? Did Javi want to wait to have kids? Did he not want to have that many? Was he having second thoughts about kids all together? Fuck, was he having second thoughts about getting married? He’s literally never acted like this before. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You were sure at this point, you probably looked just as much of a mess as Javi did, letting your thoughts race wildly throughout your brain, the silence now lingering between the four of you now seemed to feel deafening, Connie beginning to pick up on the uneasiness festering between you and Javi and knowing she had enough common sense for her and Steve to pick up her cue to see herself out. 

“Well, still, I’m sorry. We should probably get going anyways, we told the sitter we’d be back around 6 so we should probably hit the road. Thank you so much for the tour! The shower was beautiful and I’m so glad I could be there for it. We’ll see you guys for the big day soon! Just let me know if you need any help with wedding stuff between now and then okay?” 

“Uh yeah, yeah of course. Thanks for all your help, Con. I’ll um- I’ll let you know if we need anything.” You stammered as Connie pulled you in for a hug goodbye, followed quickly by Steve, who planted a few pats on your back mid hug. 

“Bye sweetheart, thanks for letting me steal this asshole for golf today. See y’all when you’re gettin’ ready to get hitched! Adios, loser.” Steve chuckled as he pulled away from your hug to tug Javi into another, giving him an even harder pat on the back before letting Connie say her goodbyes as well. 

“Do you want me to walk you guys down to your-” 

“Nah, we’ll find our way out, no worries. Bye lovebirds, see ya soon.” Steve grinned, giving the both of you one last wave farewell before disappearing down the stairs, their hushed bickers about Steve’s unnecessary comments quietly trailing behind them. Before you could even get a word out to Javi now that the two of you were alone, he was already halfway down the stairs behind the Murphy’s, not even bothering to look back at you as he mumbled under his breath. 

“I’m gonna get the gifts out of the car and go sit outside.” 

“Jav, wait, I-” 

You could feel the lump beginning to swell in your throat, your bottom lip trembling with tears welling in your eyes as you watched Javi storm down the stairs without even so much as an attempt to care about what you had to say, leaving you with nothing but yourself and 5 empty bedrooms that now had you questioning everything you thought you knew about your future with Javi. You felt your body begin to collapse like a sad pile of jello as you melted into a sobbing puddle on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest as you cried into the flowy fabric of your dress, leaving wet stains behind from your tears. Your breaths were rapid and shaky with each muffled sob, trying to rationally grasp on to something, anything, as to why Javi was acting this way. But the more the gears frantically turned in your brain, the more irrational and terrifying your thoughts became. 

This all happened so fucking fast. It’s only been a year since I’ve known him. Is he realizing it’s too much? Am I too much? This was all too fucking good to be true, wasn’t it, you fucking idiot. 

Taking a few more minutes to collect yourself enough to at least stop full on sobbing, you wiped your wet cheeks with the back of your palm, inhaling a trembling deep breath as you mustered up every ounce of courage you could find to face whatever fate was waiting for you downstairs with Javi. 

Each step down the stairs felt heavier than the last, leaving your fingers anxiously drumming against your legs as you saw Javi’s broad body hunched over the side of the unfinished back patio, staring out to the tall grass of your backyard swaying in the warm summer breeze. If it were any other time, you would have rushed up behind him, wrapping your body around his back and attacking him with kisses until the two of you were wound up in a fit of laughter and giggles, happily tangled in each other's bodies. 

Right now, you were terrified to even step too close to him. 

Carefully and quietly sliding open the glass door to the porch, you prayed with every bone in your body you weren’t going to do anything that set Javi off enough to even let you attempt to have a conversation with him about what was going on. The new wood softly creaked under your shoes, making Javi turn his head just enough to acknowledge your presence as you wearily approached him. Taking one more deep breath, you opened your mouth to speak, but with your jaw hanging open, Javi’s words filled the stark silence before yours could. 

“I don’t know if we should get married.” 

Fuck. 

You could practically feel your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, like the weight of 1,000 bricks had been dropped on your body all at once, hearing that come out of his mouth. You could have mentally tried to brace yourself for a lot of things, but hearing Javi tell you he didn't want to get married anymore sure as hell wasn't one of them.

“Javi, I- baby, what- I don’t- I don’t-” 

“Why the fuck do you even wanna marry me?” 

Your brows scrunched in pain and confusion at the sharp tone of his words, desperate to try and understand what point he was trying to prove in this gut wrenching game he seemed to be playing. 

“Because I- Javi, I- Javi I love you, that’s why.” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you sat down next to him on the edge of the porch, leaning over enough to see the tears glistening down his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy as he tried to stifle the sobs rumbling in his chest. He shook his head back and forth before his gaze fell into his lap. 

“You shouldn’t love me.” 

“Javi… what the fuck are you talking about?” you plead, feeling the pain and hurt creeping through your body as you watched the tears he was so desperately trying to fight. With a scornful scoff, Javi shook his head, pressing against his knees to stand, taking a few paces around the porch, burying his hands in his face, his words muffled and muted by his palms covering his mouth. 

“What the fuck am I- I’m not- I’m not what you deserve. I don’t understand how you don’t fucking see that.” 

You followed suit, bringing yourself to stand with your arms crossed tightly across your chest, staring at Javi in bewilderment, biting down on your tongue so hard to keep from bursting into tears you thought you were going to make it bleed. You could feel the storm of pain, anger and confusion brewing deep in the pit of your stomach, your body numb and mind blank. 

“Javier. What the fuck is going on? I don’t understand why-” 

“Because last time I was gonna get married I fucked up everything. For everyone. I hurt everyone I cared about. I went half way around the world and I spent a decade fucking things up even more. How do you know I’m not gonna fuck everything up again? I love you too much to let it happen to you. The thought of ever hurting you even half as I much as I’ve hurt anyone else because of my choices fucking kills me. I can’t do it. I can’t hurt you like I’ve hurt everyone else. I’d never fucking forgive myself. I love you more than anything, Osita. I love you more than anything in the world. You deserve someone who isn’t going to hurt you. Someone who will do right by you, by your family, your future children, I just- fuck- I don’t think that person can be me.” 

A deafening silence hung in the air as you stared blankly at Javi, tears streaming from his tormented brown eyes, his body trembling with devastation and regret. You had no doubt your body mirrored his as the guilt and heartbreak flooded you from head to toe, wondering how in the world you had ever let the man you loved and cared about more than anything feel like he wasn’t enough for you. 

You wished you could speak- to find the words to tell him that he was your everything, the glue that had put you back together when you were convinced there was nothing else that could mend the broken mess that you had become. You wished you could express to him that there was no one on the face of this earth that you would rather spend the rest of your life with than him- that there was no one else you wanted by your side through every moment of your life, the good, the bad and the ugly, more than him. You wished there was a way to tell him that you loved him more than anything, but in that moment, all you could do was grab him and wrap your arms around his waist, squeezing him as tightly as your body would let you, letting your wet face rest against the familiar warmth of his chest as you whispered into the soft fabric of his shirt. 

“Javier Peña, you’re the only person it could be.” 

You could feel his chest begin to rumble with heavy sobs as his arms draped around you, pulling you against his body so closely, it was like his life depended on it, like he couldn’t bear the thought of ever letting you go again. One arm stayed wrapped around your back as the other slid up the back of your neck, his broad palm cradling your head in his grasp, his fingers practically digging into your skin to keep you close as the two of you let yourselves do nothing but hold each other in your teary silence. 

You let one of your hands reach up towards Javi’s face, cupping his jaw and forcing his gaze back on to you, as your thumb traced back and forth along his cheek, wiping away the wetness that had been welling in his eyes. 

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” You asked, waiting until you felt Javi’s head gently nod up and down in understanding in your palm before you continued, “The man you were before doesn’t scare me. If it did, I would have been gone a long time ago. The man you were before has turned you into the man that you’ve become. The man that I want to spend everyday with for the rest of my life. Every good day, every bad day, every painful, hard and shitty day, and every day in between. And I promise that I will spend every last one of those days until the day I die trying my best to convince you that you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And if I die trying, then so be it. I love you, Javi. Don’t you ever think for a second that there is anyone out there that I want to spend the rest of my life with more than you, and I won’t ever let you forget it.” 

It was only moments before both of Javi’s hands were cradling your face, gently trembling as they cupped your soft, wet skin as you locked eyes with his, watching his face shift from terrified to bewildered, thinking he must have misheard what you had just said to him. 

“Osita, I-” 

“Promise me.” 

“Promise you what?” 

“Promise me that you believe me. Promise me that you know I love you more than anything.”

There was a part of Javi’s brain that wished he could find something to prove that he couldn’t. To prove he wasn’t worthy of keeping the promise you had made to him. To convince himself that he had no reason to believe he was worthy of the love you had given him.

But the truth was, for the first time that he could remember, as he looked down at you, the woman who had taken his life and forever changed it for the better, who had helped to heal him in ways he didn’t know he needed, who had cared for him in ways he never thought he deserved, and who had stood by him even as you learned about the ugliest parts of him he never thought he’d forgive himself for, Javier Peña finally realized he had learned what it was like to be worthy of love. 

You had made him realize he was worthy of being loved. 

A small gulp slid down his throat between his shaky breaths, taking a moment to soak in everything about you, before letting his lips ghost across yours as a quiet whisper left his mouth. 

“I promise.” 

And just like that, his lips crashed into yours with a ferocious and tender passion, soaking in every ounce of the sweet flavor of you, a taste he knew he would never tire of, one that he craved like nothing else. 

“I love you, Osita. Fuck, I love you so much.” Javi moaned between your kisses, praying with every bone in his body you knew how much he meant it. 

“I love you too, Javi.” The hot breath of your words danced across his lips before they were crashing together once again, his tongue swiping between your parted mouths as he ran his hand down your back and around your waist, pulling you so close you were convinced your bodies were going to melt into one as you pressed against his broad chest, now needily grasping at fist fulls of his shirt. 

In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how much you loved them. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how hopelessly he craved you, too. 

With your bodies still tangled together, your kisses became messier and sloppier as you backed your way towards the door that lead inside, stumbling and trampling over each other’s feet without any regard for where you were headed until you felt your back bump against the kitchen island, the rounded edges of the countertop stopping you in your tracks as Javi caged you between his broad figure and the island. 

Both of your hands were now feverishly roaming across each other’s bodies before Javi had run his hands down your thighs, hoisting you up to sit on the countertop, planting hot, wet kisses across your neck and collarbone while his fingers crept under the hem of your dress, his palms sliding up and down your legs, digging his fingers into your flesh. 

“Javi…” You whimpered, letting your eyes close and head fall back as he sucked at your pulse point, leaving you with one hand bracing yourself against the edge of the counter and the other with your fingers wrapped around the navy fabric of Javi’s shirt, clinging on for dear life. 

You eyes opened, and gaze shifted downwards as you felt Javi pull away from your grasp, watching him drop to his knees, slotting himself between your parted legs and kissing the inside of your thighs while his hands tugged at the waistband of your already soaked underwear, hastily shuffling them to fall down your legs and pool at your ankles. His needy kisses up your thighs crept closer and closer to your core as your legs draped over his shoulders, kneeling before you like you were the altar of everything he worshiped as his deep brown eyes looked up at yours, like he was begging for forgiveness for his sins. 

“I’m so sorry, Osita. I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. Fuck, I love you so much. Let me show me how much I love you. Please, baby. Please let me show you how much I need to be yours.” 

Your response was nothing but a ragged moan as you felt his hot breath hovering over your cunt before letting long, flat licks of his tongue drag through your folds, each swipe pressing firmer than the last, lapping up the arousal dripping from your entrance like a sweet nectar. With one hand still white knuckling the edge of the countertop, the other shot down to bury itself in the dark curls of Javi’s thick locks, tugging at ends to find some place to ease your tension as he began to flick and swirl his tongue relentlessly against your clit, lapping you up like a man starved. 

“Oh fuck Javi- fuck- you feel so good, baby.” You moaned, raking your fingers along Javi’s scalp as you watched his head bob nestled between your legs, feeling the low hum of satisfaction thrumming in his throat as he began to suck your sensitive bundle of nerves, latching his lips around your clit as his mouth worked feverishly against your cunt. You could already feel the tingle beginning to grow at the base of your spine and spread to your legs as Javi found every sweet spot that he knew made you lose all control, desperate to make you feel how much he needed your love and forgiveness. 

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let go for me baby, I’ve got you.” Javi hummed before diving back between your legs, tightening his grip around your thighs as his tongue danced around your clit relentlessly. It wasn’t long before you could feel your orgasm begin to flood your body, pleasure crashing through you as you cried out his name, a death grip clutching around the counter and Javi’s dark locks. Javi worked you through your high, drinking up the juices of your slick as you came, feeling your legs tremble as they stayed slung over his broad shoulders, not stopping until your body was shaking and your whimpers and moans had become so wrecked, he had no choice but to stop to relish in the blissed out, dripping mess he had made you. He would have loved to stay like this forever, watching you become more and more wrecked beneath his tongue, the want, no, need, to be buried inside your heat, getting lost in your wetness and warmth, savoring in the way no one else would ever be able to have you like he did, to know that you were his. 

Javi worked in a determined silence, rusting with his belt buckle until the metal clangs of it opening had his pants and boxers in a puddle around his ankles, splaying kisses across your neck as he slid you towards the edge of the counter, his fingers digging into your hips with a bruising intensity. He stroked himself a few times as he lined his cock up with your entrance, guiding his tip through the glistening arousal covering your folds, leaving his dick shiny with your slick as you whimpered into his skin. 

“Javi… Please, baby. I need you.” You whimpered, instinctively bucking your hips towards him, desperately craving him to ease the achy emptiness between your legs. 

Resting his forehead against yours, the dark, damp curls of his hair brushed your skin, the hot and heavy heat of each of your shaky breaths melting into one another’s as your lips ghosted his, only fully meeting yours to catch the moan that had escaped your mouth as he pushed himself into your heat, letting himself bottom out, his tip brushing against your cervix. You couldn’t help but wrap your legs around the small of his back and drape your arms over his shoulders, desperate to have your bodies needily tangled and intertwined together as you savored in the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness. 

He began to rock his hips, letting his cock drag in and out of your cunt, taking his time with each stroke, the movement making you dig your fingernails into the fabric of his shirt stretched over his muscular back, in turn, making the grip he had around your waist even tighter, his fingers buried in the soft flesh of your stomach where his hands had crept under your dress. 

The way he punched up into you, perfectly pounding against your g-spot with each thrust, combined with the way the hairs at his base rubbed along your clit, already had the inevitable coil beginning to tighten in your belly. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him. 

Each stroke seemed to become deeper and fuller than the last, Javi’s pace now climbing in speed and intensity as he felt your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, knowing that familiar feeling meant you were coming closer to your end. You could barely muster anything but a whimper, your soft pleads and begs going straight to his dick as he slid and out of your wet heat. 

“Fuck baby, don’t stop- ahhhh- please don’t stop, I’m so close.” 

The lewd sounds of skin hitting skin and low, ragged moans echoed against the bare walls of your unfinished kitchen as Javi fucked deeper and deeper into you, singing sweet, soft praises against your skin between locking your lips with yours. 

“Fuck- Dámelo, Hermosa (Give it to me, beautiful). Need to feel you soak my cock before I fuck you full of me. It’s okay mi amor- mierda- té tengo. (my love- shit- I’ve got you.) I’ve always got you. Forever.” 

You could feel your legs lock even tighter around Javi’s waist as heat began to bloom in your belly, only needing a few more thrusts as you rolled your hips against his before your mind went blank and vision went white, your orgasm crashing through your body and flooding every inch of you with pleasure so intense, you could feel yourself going limp in his grasp. 

“Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god-ahhhhhhhh-” You whimpered as Javi fucked you through your high, now desperate to chase his own as his thrusts became rushed and sloppy, pounding into you as your walls gripped around his cock like a vice. Your warmth and wetness consumed him, only needing a few more pumps before he could feel himself following suit, hissing through gritted teeth as incoherent babbles spilled from his lips. 

“There it is, baby. Fuck- fuck, you’re so fucking perfect. I love you so much, Osita. Con todo mi corazón. (With my whole heart). Oh fuck- I’m yours forever. Oh shit, I’m gonna cum to, oh fuckkkkkk.” 

With one last thrust, Javi finished buried deep inside you, hot ropes of his cum coating your walls as a slick mixture of spend leaked down your thighs, leaving him panting while he slumped into your shoulder, his chest heaving with labored breaths, trying to compose himself. Bracing himself with one palm flat against the counter next to your hip, his other hand reached up to your face, brushing away a piece of stray hair back into place before gently cupping your cheek as he spoke. 

“Osita, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I just- fuck- I’ve never been so sure of anything, but when we were at golf today, Steve brought up Lorraine, and I- I just was so scared I was gonna fuck everything up again, and I-” 

“Oh God, he brought up Lorraine?! Jesus. I knew it. I knew this was Steve’s fucking fault.” You sighed, quietly laughing to yourself as you shook your head. 

“Wait, how did you-” 

“Because it just seemed so strange that you were acting like this all of a sudden. You got back from golfing with him and it was like you were a different person. I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I was freaked out and panicking wondering what happened because you’ve never acted like that before. That, and because I love Steve, but he’s an idiot.” The two of you were both now laughing, Javi rubbing his hand over his face before rolling his eyes, wondering to himself how he had really let his friend’s stupid comment get the best of him. 

“I’m so sorry, Osita. I should have just ignored it, I just hadn’t thought about it in so long and I was so terrified to mess everything up again. It would kill me to hurt you like that.” His thumb circled around your cheek as he tilted your gaze to meet his, sincerity and remorse swirling in the dark pools of his chocolate brown eyes. 

“Javi, listen, if this is moving too fast, or it’s too much for you, I want you to be able to tell me, I understand if-” Before you could finish your sentence, Javi’s lips were planted tenderly against yours, pulling away from your mouth with a goofy grin and satisfied sigh. 

“I promise you, I’ve never wanted anything more. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t wait to marry you,” he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek, “I can’t wait to live in our new house with you,” he grinned, planting another ticklish kiss on your neck, “I can’t wait until we can finally start filling up these empty rooms with little baby Peñas” Javi chuckled, now peppering kisses all over your body, making you erupt in a fit of laughter and giggles, squirming and flailing in his grasp, playfully swatting at him. “I can’t wait to spend every day for the rest of my life with the most beautiful, amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He smirked, tilting his head to let your mouths meet again, this kiss filled with a tender passion and intensity unmatched by his previous playful ones. 

It was the kind of kiss that said all of the things that words couldn’t. The kind of kiss that had butterflies fluttering in your stomach like the first kiss you had shared in Maria’s bathroom almost a year ago. The kind of kiss that made you fall even deeper in love with him, even when you thought you couldn’t. 

It was also the kind of kiss  where everything else in the world seemed to melt away and make time stand still, a kiss that you could have stayed lost in forever… unless a certain someone hadn’t forgotten his wallet at your house and needed to come back and get it. 

You were so oblivious to anything else happening around you, that neither you or Javi had heard your front door open, followed by the rushed, impatient footsteps of Steve and Connie, arguing about where Steve could have left his wallet, and how on earth he could have left without realizing it was missing from its usual home in his back pocket. 

“Seriously, Steve, I can’t believe we’re gonna waste a whole hour having to turn around and come back here because you couldn’t remember your wallet!” 

“Con, I told you, it’s right on the counter, I know where it is, lemme just go grab it really quick and then we ca- Oh Jesus fucking Christ!” Steve shouted, walking into the kitchen to see you and Javi making out on your island, your dress pushed up well past your legs, and Javi’s bare ass on display from his pants still pooling around his ankles. 

“Ahhhhh!” You and Javi shrieked, practically jumping out of your skin to see Steve’s tall and lanky frame frozen in your kitchen, now scrambling to try and fix your clothes and hair to try and save yourselves at least some dignity. 

“What the hell are you two doin’?!” Steve grimaced, trying not to cackle to himself as Connie rushed up behind him to see what was happening, only to very quickly cover her eyes and turn away from you and Javi. 

“Us?! What the hell are you doing here? Jesus, you ever heard of fucking knocking, Murph?!” Javi groaned, shuffling his pants back up and fixing his hair before helping you off the counter, trying your best to hide your beet red, embarrassed face. 

“I forgot my wallet! Forgive me for thinkin’ you two would keep your hands off each other for long enough to let me come pick it up in peace.” Steve frowned, raising up his hands in defense. 

“I’m sorry! I told him to call you to let you know he was coming to pick it up, but he seemed to think it wasn’t a big deal.” Connie scolded, giving Steve a forceful nudge of her elbow before finally turning back around to face you and Javi, knowing you were at least halfway decent. “God, I love you, but you are an idiot.” 

“You can say that again…” You snickered under your breath, just loud enough to make Javi and Connie join in your laughter, leaving Steve with his arms crossed over his chest, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Hey, listen. Call me what you want, but I don’t think you’ll be callin’ me an idiot when you need me to come babysit your 47 kids so the two of you can get some…” He paused gesturing to you and Javi’s disheveled state, “... time to yourselves. Like I said earlier, y’all gotta lot of rooms to fill, and I don’t think you’re gonna have any problem doin’ it.” 

And for as much as you wanted to give Steve the ten pounds of shit he deserved, as you looked up at Javi standing next to you, you couldn’t really even bring yourself to be mad. Because in the end, the only thing that mattered was him- the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. The one who was your future, the one who stood with you through every twist and turn, the one who was your home. What started as a day that had you questioning everything had turned into one that had never made you feel more assured. You knew that Javier Peña loved you more than life itself, and you knew that you were so lucky to spend the rest of your life getting to prove to him over and over that you loved him just as much. 

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

[wroteclassicaly]

May I Taste Your Sin

(Michael Langdon x Female Reader)

Pairings : Michael Langdon x Female Reader

Warnings : Language, smut, blood, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blood play, & period sex.

A/N : This fic has been a loooong time coming! I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but now that I have inspo I wanted get this out for y’all! The warnings are obviously self-explanatory, so skip this if you don’t like the contents it’s gonna contain! Michael Langdon eats human hearts, and he’s a demon, before anyone starts to fuss over this, lol. I’m sure menstrual cycles with his partner would be a dessert to him!

Enjoy! This one is pretty intense, so I’m nervous about it! I also have more installments with different characters coming in the next few days! :)

Check out where I first posted the teaser for this fic, and check out these period sex headcanons I wrote for Michael!

~*~

He keeps staring at you. You try to move about, do your tasks, even attempt conversation with people you’d tried so hard to avoid these past several years. Your abilities to function like the human being that you are, seemingly vanish whenever the tall honey blond is within your exhausted proximities. You aren’t sure if you’d like to let out the loudest echoing scream and see where it ends up in this place, or let your wildest carnal urges guide your hormones into a literal sticky situation. Or, at the very least, let yourself fantasize about seducing him in your own self-created version of reality.

You’ll have to settle on the latter, unfortunately. Pocketing the cream colored dish rag, you place the last row of finely printed novels on the book shelve. Your fingertips linger, attempting to find a portal through their leather cover tops. Your tongue slicks your parched lips, neck stretching to crack out the tension. You aren’t trying to do anything but stealing some relaxation, when a largely hot hand is pressing a knot-out in a knead on your shoulder - clasping, settling a risky purchase.

You don’t have to make an educated guess to know whose hand that belongs to. He practically spews out his control and ownership of this place every chance that he gets. Biting down a venomous sigh, you coerce yourself into a turn around - gathering an eyeful of Langdon’s fancy black vest. That’s not good enough for the King, apparently, as he fits his pointer finger underneath your chin in a tuck, thumb pressing against your jaw to tilt your gaze to his own.

“Did you forget your manners, Miss Y/L/N?”

The way his shining eyes are sizing your attention, captivating your unwillingness to comply to how Langdon makes you feel - it can’t be humanly possible, can it? There’s that possessive ache that begs you to launch ownership over him and his entire body. Why is everything so widely dramatic whenever he’s around? Is he just full of himself or is it something way more than you’re aware? A crackling parch winds its pathway around your throat, sealing your breath in.

Nothing comes from between your lips. You’re frozen solid, legs a weightless press. Each touch this... man brings upon your body is like a bass thump - pumping you towards his secretive rhythm. All you can do is sway with the beat. Langdon smirks coyly, his other hand resting behind his back in an idle grace.

Neither of you dare utter a word. However, Langdon is seemingly content in making you squirm and you try to focus on everything but his perfectly crafted jawline, and how eagerly you’d suck on it if asked. You swear you can hear your heartbeat galloping off, so strong that it can tear your heart right out of your chest along with it. His colorful eyes glance over you in a brief stamping sweep, lingering at your sore breasts and your waistline.

What is he even doing...?

“Excuse me, but Ms. Venable did not authorize any private conferences with the help.” A cold and steel - grasped voice chills your bones down, dusting your cheeks with a reddening humiliation.

You haven’t even so much as spoken to Langdon, yet it feels like you two have been clawing and scratching at each other all over this fucking outpost, riding one another until you can’t fathom walking upright. You still can’t speak, but Langdon takes care of that for you.

“Interesting, and did Ms. Venable give you permission to waltz in here when you weren’t requested or required, just to give a meaningless order?” Langdon is mildly amused in his question, his hand still paused on your chin, thumb now swiping in a tickling drop with his fingertip - along your jaw.

Ms. Mead looks comical in her brief attempt at forming a snappy comeback, only to go silent in defeat. You take this tension as your escape line - quickly edging from the sacred confines Langdon has built for you two, and you all but run out the door. You’re clutching your shirt collar, punching a two pounce path up the staircase and to the help’s quarters.

Chores now, panic later.

~*~

Five minutes. Five fucking minutes in this place that you’ve served without question, complaint, for nearly two years - is all you want. But as the heavy handed rasps of Mead’s knuckle bones beat on your bathroom door, you know that is a simple pipe dream. Her low voice is harsh with you, making your headache unfold into a full blown migraine. You shift uncomfortably, knees knocking together, thighs sore against the cool porcelain seat below you.

Langdon must’ve massively pissed her off... Good.

Your palms collect purchase to your cradle your face, your eyes glistening with tears, throat burning with frustration. It hurts too much to stand upright this time. Normally women would lose this in stressful situations. Add the apocalypse and barely eating, you’d peg it normal to receive nothing. However, your predicament is much worse, fucking you over once more.

Your body welcomes Mother Nature each month. Unpredictable, yet there. Heavy, excruciating. You could list on and on reasons that don’t amount to much. You’re stuck with a part of you that won’t ever come to fruition.

Not in your former life, especially not in this one. Another reminder that carries an award winning irony. Sighing, you peer down at the red dish rag you were given. Literally on the rag, what a joyous harmony. The elites of course, are given the tampons and pads.

You have to use scraps of fabric you’re forced to wash in the bathtub if you move too fast or sneeze. And on your heavy days when you haven’t the time to stop your duties to wash and air out the towels, things are much harder. At least before the apocalypse you had chocolate, feminine products, a warm shower to take your time in, movies to curl up with, and a place of your own to cry where no one could hear you. You sniffle, hormones locking down your heart.

Most recently the outpost had welcomed the cooperative leader Langdon. He had interviewed everyone but you, uninterested, only flustering you a few times. Him being here just makes your period a more unwelcome storm. This morning as you were passing him on the landing of the staircase, delivering the bath towels to elite rooms, he stared at you. Right into you, nostrils flaring, tongue rolling out to slick his plump lips, blue eyes darkening.

Then there was this afternoon. How could I forget...?

The encounters were over quicker than they took place. Still, his acknowledgment of you didn’t bring your interview, nor did it promise your application for the sanctuary he preaches about. Forcing your tears to bank, you stand with your dress skirt and apron held up, staring at the stained rag in your panties. You turn and flush the toilet, eating back around to the shock of your fucking life. There, just feet in the from the doorway, is Langdon in all his glory.

It makes you swallow harshly, stomach drawing off the butterflies that have grown claws. You feel winded. His ring covered fingers bring an object to your sights. A thinly wrapped stick. You don’t answer, you don’t move, you don’t protest him approaching until he’s directly in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You try, a mere whisper betraying your bravery.

“Helping you,” He answers simply, a heated slide crossing his mouth. You can practically taste him, damn near swaying forward.

You start to snap back into your senses, ready to cover your remembered modesty back up. He grasps your wrist, a hungry look soft in his features. “Will you let me?”

You’re shaking, body on fire at him touching you, you try to keep your legs from clenching, that want. You know what will occur if you let yourself. He is gentle with you, admiration clear. Why? You don’t understand this.

“You’re bleeding, I know.”

Jaw unhinged, you stand upright, his fingers still ghosting your skin. An unlucky movement on your part, the warmth spills from you and you look down between your thighs in horror at the red lines running down your legs, pattering against the floor. Langdon is breathing heavily, practically panting, stunning you once more. His other hand grips your cheek, thumb swiping your lip, eyes not breaking contact from yours.

“Do you know how good your cunt smells? Every pathetic person in this outpost is starving and you have the best meal between your fucking legs.”

When your silence stretches on, Michael nudges forward, careful with you. “May I feast?”

It’s all too much to handle. Having him talk to you, you speaking to him. And now this? How? You begin to grow dizzy, hands trembling as you try to pull your clothing back up. Langdon’s hands grip your wrists.

“Please don’t do that.”

You want to stun him incredulously, backhand him. None of that is happening, not even the urge. Instead, your want for him is magnifying beyond any feigned ignorance. Your tongue slides out across your lips, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a brisk chew. Langdon hooks his middle finger between your teeth, releasing your lip and combing the blood across in a coppery gloss.

Your chest is startled, rising and falling in quivering quakes, ears hearing a static rush. Everything inside of you is alive and crying out in need to be sated. Langdon grips you around the waist, lowering his forehead to rest atop your own, his middle finger - still doused in your blood - slithers past his own lips, which close in a sticky suckle. A vibrating moan pummels his throat, causing a constricting swallow that showcases his Adam’s apple.

If I could only just lick that...

Langdon is sly and devilishly cunning to a fault - fast in his next movements. He presses a designer boot down over your skirts, successfully preventing them from being made up. “Leave them here for someone else.”

“I... I can’t. This is too much, Langdon —“ He chuckles at the formality.

“Since I can see your womanhood running from between your legs, I suppose it’s only fair that we skip some formalities, don’t you agree, Y/N?” Your eyes are probably wider than necessary - a cartoon like sight. He’s used your full name in an authoritative command, leaving no room for question. “And you may call me Michael.”

It’s all a little more frantic from this point. He gives the slightest of information, and you see your skirts and panties gliding across the floor in a winded push. Michael brings that wrapped item back into your eye-line. “We won’t be needing this for a while.”

“I didn’t say yes.” You try, swallowing a weak, whimpering stifle.

“But you didn’t say no, did you?” That shit eating grin. He has you and he is all too aware - elated to the brimming brimstone of hellfire you’re about to bestow upon yourself.

Your insides melt into the trenches of red hot, raw ravishment. Michael drops his left arm down, hand palming his hardening cock through black slacks, eyes encouraging you in a chained bind. “Let’s go and make a mess in my room.”

Now or never. No more of this, back to reality, maybe some place better. You’re spinning in a foiling encasement, precipice wide and open - hungry to pull you under. And you dive in, you let it all go. Michael looks satisfied, sharing something with himself that you don’t know... yet.

Taking Michael Langdon’s hand, you’re led into the unknown.

~*~

Langdon leads you down his own separate corridor, your free hand scolded for trying to hold yourself over your uniform.

“I want you to make a mess.” Michael says.

You hope that you’re not the one who will be paying the cost for your own said mess, or cleaning it up. If it’s up to Venable - you’ll be licking it, all the way to her high heeled boots.

Once inside the confines of Michael Langdon’s bedroom, you take the time to look around, enjoying the perks this situation is bringing. The room isn’t any different than what the purple elites get here, it is bordering on a more... lived in feel, which is ironic when you consider that Langdon hasn’t been here like everyone else has for the past three years.

Guess he’s just more comfortable? He does look like an English vampire half the time..

On that note, a particularly harsh cramp antagonizes your uterus, causing you to clench your abdomen, choking out a acidic slice. “Fucking demonic cramps.”

Michael - now clad in his all black ensemble, minus the overcoat - chortles, knotting his fingers together behind his back and strolls forward, wetting his lips as the firelight crackles a sparking soundtrack. “It’s ironic how you refer to it as “demonic”, when Satan really has nothing to do with this. I mean, it’s not on him that humanity failed their pitiful guidelines for sobering temptation. Wasn’t it your lord and savior that bestowed this curse upon you?” He finishes, giving a head tilt to your unhinged stun.

“Are you religious?” Is all you can come up with.

Michael sneers, looking slightly offended. It fades seconds later. “Depends on your definition of religious, and then there is what one believes in. But I guess you can say that I’m devoted to... a certain cause.”

“Were you this mysterious before the apocalypse, or is that why the cooperative gave you the job?” You try, a discomfort crackling at your inner thighs.

They’re probably smeared... And not just with blood.

“I bet you’re uncomfortable.” Michael teases, snapping his fingers at the fireplace. Did your eyes betray you, or did the flames flicker?

You want to give a snappy comeback, but it feels unwise. You nod like the sap that you are, nails biting your palms. Your heartbeat has begun to accelerate, a visible sight beneath your apron. Langdon guides himself to step in front of you, leather shoes drumming across the floor beneath. Every sound in this forsaken room is flowing through your eardrums - Michael’s scent on the tip of your tongue.

You need him. More than your body has to have the air that filters underneath this mausoleum. You’re so unsteady, eyes brimming with the smoking arousal, blocking common sense. Michael catches you as you collide with his chest, wrapping your fists into his vest. His blue irises are disappearing to a canyon of night sky - lavish black so sinful that it steals the breath from your lungs.

Drizzling off your tongue is a hesitation. “Won’t we get into trouble...? Venable -“ Those rough fingertips hold a softness that hushes your lips, denting.

“Can watch me with my face buried into your cunt. The humiliation will arouse her.” Michael answers in his own finish.

You aren’t sure why, but that grates your mouth into a sneaky grin, shared with Michael’s, sensing that slapping throb at his phrases. He pinches your chin, nuzzling your head to the side, his lips sloping a map across your neck. His towering physique backs you by knocking his knees into your thighs, delivering you to the edge of his bed. You drop like wild weights, looking towards the ceiling, trying to take a deep inhalation. Langdon crouches, pants rustling as they tighten around his temptingly thick thighs.

He tuts in a scold, chiding you furthermore. “You will watch what I’m getting ready to do to you! Is that clear, Y/N?”

You don’t answer fast enough, Michael’s hand wrapping around your throat, eyes burning hellfire through you - dusting your bones to ash. Your throat is wet with the clingy, unshed tears. Fuck, you have to be filled up until you’re hollowed out. Michael is languid in grace, hand toppling into your lap, joining his other.

“Take down your hair, Y/N.”

Like a puppet, you obey your new owner. Unwrapping the pointed bun, you shake your locks free, sighing in an eased tickle.

“What a good and obedient girl that you are. Those who obey, shall reap the riches.”

“Why are you doing this?” An ignorant question on your part.

“Because,” As if it’s the most simple answer in this broken world, Michael let’s his hands start to unbutton his vest, carelessly sending it, his attention not wavering off you in the slightest. “I’m hungry.”

A literal moan comes from you, making Langdon hiss through his through his milky white teeth. He resumes his former position, hovering.

“Spread.” Michael says, a quaint wonder adorning him, his palms sliding up and down your legs to feel you part them. The blood is mixing some fucked out potion with your creamy arousal for him, and he knows it, has it right into your tremble from the exposure.

Your skin is steaming in scrapes, responding so vulgarly to Michael, that he is hooking his wrists under your knees, bouncing the flesh into his awaiting hands, and claiming. He hoists your legs over his shoulders to arch you to his idea of perfection. You should be protesting, in a shambled shyness. That is gone, no place here. Michael let’s his nose rest in the crease of your thigh, crudely sniffing like some beast.

His sopping tongue finds a striking stroke along your ruby red, damp thigh.

Closer... He’s getting closer...

When you can’t feel that warm and snide air he possesses, you lock to load a question. Michael is shedding himself of his remaining clothing in a cocky crawl. His hair curtains his face as he sees you seek out his cock - thick and heavy, weighted and wet with pre-cum.

“Finish taking off your clothing.” You’ve never done something so fast in your years alive.

You have to admit, being so vulnerable like this - naked and bleeding, it has you buzzing.

Michael outstretches a veined forearm, the back of his rings swirling in desiring dances across your breasts. “Do these hurt?”

Your lashes are slicked in perspiring tears, the tired soreness harassing your chest. He has his truth. His trim form bows to you once more, placing your legs back where they belong. He knuckles a pressing push into your abdomen. “Bear down.”

It isn’t an accident this time, it’s not a discreet secrecy. Michael wants you this way. All of you. Finding a confidence, you give yourself a high and sink your fingers into his hair, toes tickling his shoulder blades in a forwarding nudge, doubling down on your muscles. That warmth spills out of you and Langdon takes you, tongue parting your swollen folds. He regulates his tongue in wet paints, licking and sucking everything you give him.

“Please—“ You’re already begging. It’s so fucking intense and intimate that you can’t formulate your own damned name.

“Are you really going to ask, or would you just like to feel good?” Michael vibrates, his mouth visible and shining crimson as he seeks you out between your slippery thighs.

It’s outright feral. His irises are coal black, blue lost in some combing canyon that’s crumbled around sin. His digits prod at your sensitive opening, being accepted moments later. His lips close over your clit, tongue slithering back and forth to assist his beckoning fingers. He gathers more from you - his purpose.

That quenched fold starts to seize you early on, your pattering breaths signaling the orgasm that is about to tear the screams from your fucking diaphragm. Michael’s hand smacks and rolls your swollen breast - permission granted. That’s all it takes and you’re falling back onto the mattress, back arching in a lined drag, pussy flattening against his mouth. He jerks you impossibly closer, your vision whiting out into dark spots. You tangle your fingers further into his luscious strands, holding, pulling.

In the midst of close recovery, Michael is plowing you with a short lived let down, his mouth leaving your pussy. You can’t complain, no time available, as his hips slot in a frazzled fit between your legs. His pelvis is tense, sheathed in sweat. His chest smashes your breasts, his hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You can’t speak, but cling tightly to his back. He growls a sound that you’ll never forget, the fire bursting behind him, flames licking the rocked cove that houses them.

His mouth is covered in your essence, your cunt bathing his dick with each violent thrust. It’s pouring in drenches, salty perspiration, pooling blood - both of you losing yourselves in the mess. Michael props himself up, digging into a dipping slam, meeting your mouth in an ending kiss. His hair tickles your shoulders, nose nudges your now blood caked mouth, and he gives the warning.

“Spill your fucking curse all over me!” And you come undone, glued to him in puzzled entrapment.

Your thighs are wrecked, his bedsheets useless, and then there’s Michael, who forces you to look at him and really see him. There’s only black in his eyes. You sputter a disbelief, bracing. His mouth parts, tongue flicks across to gather more, leveling off into his jagged movements. He swells inside your cunt, dousing your walls in his warm cum.

He doesn’t leave you, not even when it’s over. He simply takes you with him. You aren’t sure where you get the courage to speak - body shaking and shivering.

“What... Michael, who are you?”

He cups a hand over your cunt, rolling onto his side, keeping you held to him. He lightly blows away a pesky lock of your hair, then maneuvers another behind your ear.

“I’m the man who’s going to save your wretched existence.”

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