Tumgik
#Pack it up goals accomplished
curlyparmesan · 6 months
Text
Finished baldur's gate 3. Wow, what a game. Game of the year for sure. I cried 3 times throughout the no-turning-back part and ending. I can't imagine all the different scenarios. I ended at 169 hours, and it's a testament to this game that I want to immediately jump back in with another play through.
5 notes · View notes
whomturgled · 1 year
Text
u know what i should actually make some sorta new years resolution or goals or predictions or smthn. rachel my therapist from 2017 if you're out there this ones for you girl<3
3 notes · View notes
simwithshan · 7 months
Text
"Me Time" Calendar Traditions Mod (PUBLIC - 10/9TH)
Tumblr media
Hi everyone, I am thrilled to introduce my latest mod, "Me Time" Calendar Traditions. This mod offers a straightforward and clean experience for your Sims, enhancing their calendar with structured activities to accomplish.
Each "Me Time" activity requires your Sims to complete just one specific task based on what you've scheduled. For instance, if you've marked Friday as "Beach Day," your Sim's goal is to head to the beach.
I designed this mod to be incredibly user-friendly, ensuring that it can be enjoyed without any added pressure. After all, the purpose of a scheduled planner is to simplify life, right?
"Me Time" Calendar Traditions includes 12 activities for your Sims to add to their calendar:
Cafe Day: Enjoy a visit to the cafe, whether alone or with friends.
Beach Day: Head to the beach for a relaxing day, alone or with company.
Lazy Day: Take a well-deserved nap to complete this tradition.
Gaming Day: Dive into some gaming to fulfill this activity.
Meal For One: Prepare and savor a meal exclusively for yourself.
Novel Reading Day: Spend quality time reading a book.
Picnic Day: Unpack your picnic basket and enjoy a delightful meal outdoors.
Tend To Plants Day: Show some love to your plants by tending to them.
TV Series Day: Watch your favorite TV series or shows to mark this day.
Thrifting Day: Explore the thrift store and create a unique outfit. Note that this requires certain expansion packs to work correctly.
Paint & Sip: Engage in either painting or enjoying a drink at the bar to complete this activity. You can choose one or both based on your Sim's preferences.
Live Stream Day: Open up a livestream from your tech/gaming career to participate in this event.
You have the flexibility to install only the traditions you prefer, allowing for a customized experience. Keep in mind that certain traditions may require specific expansion packs to function correctly. If you do not have Highschool Years, than you know Thrifting would not work for you and etc. Most of these traditions are compatible with the base game. 
Additionally, I recommend using the "Zebru - More Icons" mod to enhance your calendar with a variety of icons for a visually pleasing experience.
Here is a video link on how to use the mod
DL
1K notes · View notes
blissfullyapillow · 7 months
Text
Spoiling your boyfriend with your lavish funds ($$) & how he spoils you in return
Fem reader
wc: 3,872~
Summary: How you spoil your boyfriend with soft & cute scenarios
Characters: Welt, Sampo, Dan Heng, Luocha, Neuvillette, Blade
Pillow Talks: If I ever have a partner I’ll spoil them to the ends of the Earth. For now, I’ll just spoil myself. This is super fluffy.
Masterlist
⋮ Sampo જ⁀➴
Will not object, if anything he encourages your spending on him
You’d think he’d just take and take from you without a care in the world… and that’s partially true. He holds you dear to his heart so he’ll actually get you things too or perform surprising acts of service for you
Will fight for you, no questions asked
“Heyyyy babe, how was your day?” Sampo is at the door, greeting you after a long day of work. He’s already bending down to slip your shoes off your sore feet.
You chuckle at his eagerness. “I had a great day! You don’t have to do this for me you know, I am a perfectly capable and—“ “yeah yeah I know. I started the bath for you already. Oh, and I’m joining you.” Sampo ignores your pout, opting to kiss those pretty lips of yours instead.
You feel the fatigue of the day start to seep in as you return his kiss; all the fight you previously had in you vanishes. Sampo smirks to himself when he pulls away and you remain silent.
He wastes no time in leading you to your shared bathroom. Sampo offers to help you strip so you let him. Your mind is still slow and trying to catch up, so before you know it you’re being eased in a warm bath.
You sigh in content at the pleasant feeling of the warm water on your tense muscles.
Sampo apparently took the luxury of making the bath look pretty. You finally notice the little rose petals scattered about the water.
Speaking of Sampo, where is he? He said he’s get in with you.
Just as you look around the room for him he walks back in. “Sorry, I forgot to grab this.” Is all he says as he flashes you a cheeky smile.
He’s already stripped down so he moves to sit behind you. Before he gets in though, he tosses something into the water.
You curiously eye the little ball he threw in as be gets settled behind you. As pretty colors start to swirl in the water and a calming scent envelopes the room, you realize it was a bath bomb he threw in.
You watch in tired delight as beautiful colors swirl around in the tub. “I thought you wanted to use this bath bomb by yourself?” You sound tired as you murmur the words, and Sampo guides you to lean your back against him.
As your back meets his chest his arms reach over you to grab something. He situates himself again, and you feel something on your arms.
You jump at the unexpected feeling, but settle down when you realize he’s just cleaning you up.
“Heh. A little jumpy are we?” He dodges the hand you try to slap him with. “In regards to what you said earlier, well, I lied. I asked for that pack of bath bombs so I can use them with you.” Sampo’s words make you smile.
Sampo’s soft touches put you at ease. You find yourself closing your eyes as your body completely relaxes in his arms.
Sampo’s hands are soothing as he leisurely washes you from head to toe. You moan softly, feeling completely at bliss when his hands begin to massage shampoo (get it?) into your hair.
You feel so at ease that you may wind up falling asleep on him.
Sampo hums a quiet tune as he washes your hair for you. His voice was all you needed to finally enter a tranquil state of sleep.
Sampo smiles to himself, having accomplished his goal. He makes sure to clean you off properly before he leans back, allowing you to rest against him for a bit longer.
He’ll make sure to get himself cleaned up and get you out of the tub before your skin starts to prune, but until then, he’ll let you sleep against him.
You deserve it after all, for all that you do <3
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
┆Welt ₊ ⊹
He feels it should be the other way around
At first he adamantly refuses to ask for anything, until one day you present to him a small Arahato model that’s pretty accurate in nature. How did you accomplish this? Well, all you needed was Welt’s surprisingly detailed drawing. Money made the rest come to fruition.
You still remember the way Welt’s eyes got a little teary when you presented it to him, and how his eyes softened in what seemed like fond remembrance
Ever since you presented that model to him, Welt made a personal vow that he’ll protect you at any cost, against any force
You shift positions as you sit beside Welt on the plush seating of the sofa. Welt really wanted you to watch an old animated series he supposedly helped to create, and so that’s how you two have been spending this peaceful night together.
You’re both taking respite in a temporary abode on another planet, a well needed break after an intense trailblazing expedition.
The rain pounds against the roof of the building. Through the curtains on the windows you can see a flash of lightning.
At first you’re content. You’ve always loved thunderstorms; they provide you with a sense of comfort as long as the thunder isn’t too lou-
BOOM!!
You visibly jump besides Welt before you instantly curl into him and bury your face against his chest.
Welt remains silent but his arms instinctively wrap around your now trembling form.
Welt knows you usually don’t mind thunder since it’s rained like this on the planet before and you didn’t react this way.
He wonders why your reaction to the thunderstorm was different this time.
When you jump a bit at another absurdly loud thunderclap, he puts the pieces together.
It must be the sheer volume of the thunder. It was so loud even he was caught by surprise. It almost felt as if the building you two were in trembled in fear at nature’s frightening display of fury.
Welt hums to himself as he glances down at you. Your cheek is smushed against his chest and your eyes are squeezed shut. He can’t help but chuckle, finding this sight of you absolutely adorable.
He slowly lifts his free hand to rub your back in an attempt to calm you down.
Slowly, his hand moves along your back. Up and down. Up and down.
Welt feels his own body relax when you stop shaking. Your shallow breaths slowly become even once more. The rain continues to pound against the building, but lightning hasn’t struck for a long time now. Thankfully the thunder has long since ceased its boisterous declaration of fury.
Welt’s free hand moves to your hair, and he plays with it.
“There there. You’re safe with me. I won’t let any harm come to you. I promise.” His words are quiet, but they feel like a warm caress on your soul; a gentle embrace full of love and compassion.
You believe his words, and his promise fills you with a sense of peace.
Welt glances down at you once more, only to see a small smile on your lips as you begin to doze off. You slightly nuzzle your head on his chest as you get comfortable, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter.
He promises himself that he’ll uphold that vow he made to you.
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
♦ Dan Heng ⚛ 
He feels a bit awkward asking you for things so he tends to remain silent whenever you ask him if he needs or wants anything
Lucky for Dan Heng you’re an attentive listener!! <3
You went out of your way to buy him all the books he’s mentioned in passing that he likes and/or wants to read when he got sick during a trailblazing expedition
The look of pure surprise on his face made you smile
Going forward, whenever he happens upon a book he wants he’ll subtlety elude to it, blushing furiously all the while
He’s honestly the standard, so you’re more than happy to spoil him. He’ll find said book in his hands mere hours later
“Are you alright?” Dan Heng’s obvious concern makes you feel a bit guilty. “Yes sweetheart, I’m-“ you wince in pain as you fail to finish your statement.
You’ve managed to strain your back muscles, and it’s been difficult to walk around let alone do anything.
Dan Heng noticed your unsteady gait as you tried to hide your pain. Once he confirmed his suspicions he made you take it easy with him.
He knows if he lets you out of his sight you’ll try to be productive instead of resting like you should.
“Here, rest your head on my shoulder.” Dan Heng ignores your protests, and soon you're comfortably nestled at his side. He opens the book in his hand once more before he begins to read to you out loud.
His voice is so soothing. The ambience, coupled with the quiet sounds of water underneath his futon assist in lulling you into a state of tranquility.
You close your eyes as you listen to Dan Heng’s voice. It’s more of an informational book that he’s reading, but you couldn’t care less. You just like listening to his voice.
The pain doesn’t feel as bothersome since you took some pain medication but there’s still a dull ache there.
You feel Dan Heng shift a bit beside you, and almost as if he read your thoughts his fingers gently massage the sore area of your back.
You exhale; his fingers work wonders on your sore muscles.
You notice Dan Heng’s nearing the end of the page. You sigh since you know he’ll have to pull his hand away to flip the page.
To your surprise, Dang Heng doesn’t pull his hand away.
He continues to read to you.
You slowly open your eyes to see him holding the book in a way where he can flip the pages with his fingers using one hand.
“Dan Heng… you really don’t have to stay here with me you know.” You whisper solemnly. You’re surprised when all you get as a reply is his soft chuckle. “Don’t be ridiculous. I want to be here with you. You deserve to take a break, so relax. I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is soft and oh so tender.
Your eyes meet his blue orbs, and the warmth in his gaze makes you shudder.
He leans in to press his soft lips against your own. When he pulls away, he presses another kiss to your nose before he resumes his previous position to read.
You wind up falling asleep like that, feeling much more at ease at Dan Heng’s side.
It takes him awhile to notice you fell asleep, but once he does he’s quick to close his book and lay you down beside him to sleep.
His eyes study the subtle rise and fall of your chest. They move up to admire the peaceful look on your face.
He moves closer to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him.
“You work too hard, and you spoil me more than I’d like. Please feel better soon, so.. so I can see that ethereal smile on your lips once more.”
He kisses your cheek. When his lips pull away, they subtly hover over yours.
He considers it for a moment.
He gives in to his hidden desire; His lips brush against yours, soft, lingering..
He smiles when you move a little in your sleep.
He kisses you on the lips again, and it feels like he’s falling in love with you all over again.
He groans at the feeling of your lips against his, and his heart flutters in his chest. He pulls away, since you are still sleeping, and his eyes linger on you.
“I love you.” He sounds so vulnerable, but it feels so right.
He falls asleep with you in his arms.
He makes sure to tell you those three words once more when you’re awake in the morning.
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
┆Blade ‧₊˚✩彡
He’s the hardest person to do this for. He seriously doesn’t want anything. He’s content by just spending time with you
So, you spend your money on fun activities the both of you can enjoy together. Whether that be a stay at home DIY project or an outing to a fun amusement park, you're happy just to have Blade by your side
He appreciates your understanding, and he may not vocalize it all the time but he truly holds you close to the shattered remnants of his heart
You remind him that he is more than just a weapon
“Maybe the piece goes here?” You point to the edge of the incomplete puzzle piece. Blade takes a moment to study the area before he shakes his head in disagreement.
“I don’t think so. Look at the curve of this piece.” You lean closer to examine said curve, and Blade remains still.
“Hmm, you’re right..” You sigh as you rack your brain on how to fit the remaining puzzle pieces.
On your way home after a busy day you passed a store full of toys and fun trinkets, so you thought it’d be fun to walk in and see what they have.
You happened upon a rare puzzle that apparently only had eight pieces. It sounded like it’d be too easy to solve so you went to return it to the shelf. Before you could place the puzzle back on the shelf the bold words on the back of the box caught your attention.
Evidently, the puzzle in your hand declared itself to be a shape shifting puzzle. The directions explained that once you place a piece incorrectly every piece will shift into a new shape and you have to start all over. The fine print read that each transformation had a guarantee that the new shapes would fit together. 
You were sold.
You walked out of the store with the box in hand hoping that Blade would agree to solve this puzzle with you. 
Thankfully your wish came to fruition, and you’ve been enjoying the quality time spent with Blade. Blade, on the other hand, is getting adorably frustrated with this puzzle.
“I swear if I put this piece in and it transforms again..” Blade grumbles the words under his breath, and his obvious frustration makes you chuckle to yourself quietly.
He hears you, but the sound only makes him smile. He tentatively places the curved piece down in the spot you suggested. To your delight the puzzle does not transform.
After you two have been doing this for the past two hours, you both feel elated at the prospect of finally completing this puzzle.
With the last piece remaining on the table, you gleefully fit it into the appropriate spot. The puzzle shines brightly on the table, signaling your successful completion of the complex activity. 
A quiet noise of surprise leaves you when the previous image on the puzzle shifts. You watch with Blade as the image slowly transforms. 
When the transformation is complete, a dopey smile brightens your features at the image displayed on the puzzle.
The puzzle reflects a scene of the two of you. Blade’s expression is surprisingly soft as he gazes at you. You’re sitting close together, legs pressed against one another as you lean over him to examine the puzzle piece in his hand.
Your eyes slowly leave the scene depicted by the puzzle to look at Blade. A coy smile lifts your lips when you see the expression on his face.
His features are uncharacteristically soft, and his smile warm. He studies the scene on the puzzle with a look of endearment as his fingers reach out to gently trail along the edge of the puzzle pieces.
“How… beautiful.” His hushed voice elicits a coo out of you. 
Your smile is so wide your cheeks hurt.
His eyes finally leave the puzzle to look at you, and a knowing grin lifts his lips. His fingers move away from the edge of the puzzle to cup your chin instead. 
He wastes no time leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your lips. You can feel the soft upward curve of his lips as he kisses you.
He pulls away from you with a soft sigh of content. As his arms wrap around you,  warmth blossoms in your chest.
You two spend the rest of the evening basking in each other’s embrace. 
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
⟡ Neuvillette ᐟᐟ☆
You spoil him rotten
Anything he wants is his. Literally. Even if you can’t get it right away, you will get it as soon as possible, just to see that bashful smile on his lips.
Lucky for your wallet, what Nevuillette’s heart yearns for most is you.
He really doesn’t ask for or want much in the material sense. He just wants to spend whatever time he has by your side, cherishing you.
You’ll buy him very ‘human’ things and teach him about them. Phones, coffee machines, you name it. You may or may not be addicted to the curious yet confused expression he makes whenever you present to him something new.
You two love each other so much it’s almost insufferable to watch.
“Neuvillette, look what I have to show you today.” Neuvillette turns to face you, excited at the prospect of something new. “What do you want to show me, my love?” Your smile is contagious as you present to him the item you were hiding behind your back. 
An old fashioned flip phone.
Neuvillette glances at the object in your hand with mirth in his gaze. “Ah, I see. This is the older version of the modernized phone, yes? A.. flip phone was it?” Neuvillette takes the phone from your outstretched hand as he begins to fiddle with it.
You find yourself comfortably seated beside him, your head resting on his shoulder as he examines the flip phone. “Humans have created such innovative objects. It’s fascinating.” Your heart warms at the innocent fascination in his voice.
Your fingers slide down his arm in search of his hand. Once your fingers bump against his hand, he intertwines your fingers with his. He gently sets the phone aside before he moves to face you.
His arms wrap around your form. The blissful sigh he emits causes your smile to grow and your eyes to close.
“I love you.” Neuvillette whispers the words against the crown of your head. Your cheeks warm when he places a kiss there afterwards. “I love you too, my sweet little otter.” You can’t see it, but Neuvillette’s eyes soften. His face reflects the warmth of a setting sun on an eventful day; his expression accurately depicts how warm and loved he feels through spending his days with you by his side.
Oh, he loves you so much. “You make me so proud. You work so hard, and you’re so strong.” His words wrap around your heart like a warm blanket.
“Ah, Neuvillette..” You can’t help feeling pleased by his sweet words of praise.
“Nothing in this world will ever bring me more joy than spending my life with you. If I were not the Iudex of Fontaine I would dedicate every moment of my life to loving you. You are truly a gift to the world, and most assuredly a blessing beyond comparison. You’re someone to be cherished for millennia to come, and forevermore. I will see to it that that is brought to fruition.” Neuvillette’s soft words bring tears to your lashes. 
He kisses each tear that falls with lingering lips and a radiant smile.
༺。° .ᘛ𓆩♡𓆪ᘚ. ° 。༻
⚜ Luocha ♡⸝⸝
You’ll spend the most doting on him compared to everyone else (minus Sampo)
You buy him all his fancy shampoos, coupled with elegant accessories to put in his luscious golden hair. He takes excellent care of it after all, and that won’t stop anytime soon.
He will try on anything you buy for him and wear it proudly. Literally. You can buy him a fancy suit embedded with diamonds and he’ll strut around like the model he is, and in the same breath he’ll imperiously show off the ugly discolored sweater you bought him and insisted he’d love (you were joking).
You always get doted on by Luocha in return. Some days he’ll pick you up with a pretty bouquet of flowers, all meticulously selected by him, and other days he’ll show up holding your favorite treat or tickets to that event you’ve been talking his ear off about
Luocha insisted on taking you out for a relaxing day off, convincing you that you deserve it for all of your hard work. That’s how you find yourself relaxing in a private hot spring, the water a pleasant remedy to your aching muscles.
You find yourself admiring your boyfriend’s luscious hair as he stands in front of you, his bare back facing your direction.
You languidly move through the water to stand right behind him, and your arms slowly wrap around his frame. He jolts, taken by surprise, but he visibly relaxes as you press lingering kisses along his bare shoulder.
“You could’ve given me a warning, you know?” His tone comes across as a bit sassy, so you nip at the skin of his shoulder with your teeth.
That gets him riled up; he gasps before he swivels around and basically smothers you against him.
You squeal as he assaults you with loving kisses and wandering fingers as they tickle your sides. Your howls of delight are loud and absolutely adorable to Luocha.
“You better watch how you use that mouth of yours.” Luocha’s smug tone irks you, but you’re currently at his mercy and have no means of retort.
Luocha stops tickling you once you’re gasping for air. His tender gaze on your figure makes you feel giddy as you catch your breath. 
“Luocha..” He shakes his head as he wordlessly moves to stand behind you. He gets to work, nimble hands massaging your shoulders, and your loud groan elicits a chuckle out of him.
“How many times do I have to reiterate to you that self care is essential to a healthy body and a healthy mind?” Luocha clicks his tongue in disapproval as he rubs out the tense knots in your back. 
You ignore his scolding. 
“With a sassy man like you in my life I probably need more self care than others… hey!!” You laugh as it’s Luocha’s turn to nibble at the skin of your shoulder with his teeth.
“Just be quiet and let me take care of you.” He insists, playfully reprimanding you for your comment. You allow him to do just that, your eyes closed the entire time as the warmth of the hot spring puts you in a sleepy, drunken daze. 
You may have fallen asleep while you were still in the hot spring, and Luocha may have had to carry you out. 
Well, at least you were able to relax and enjoy yourself, just as he intended.
641 notes · View notes
Text
Separatist-apologist lore beneath the cut
I dropped out of college when I was 19 and when I decided to go back, I had two kids. I was undeclared and I felt old despite still being in my 20s. I had a scholarship which required me to do daytime classes with all of the brand new 18 year olds and I felt wildly out of place. Before that, I'd been staying at home raising my kids while their dad worked and a lot of people thought wanting to return to the workforce was a mistake, so there was this immense pressure to succeed where I'd once failed.
The problem was not knowing what I wanted to do. All I really cared about was history and domestic violence and as far as I knew, there was no good career path that combined those things, and so I signed up for four random classes that had nothing to do with each other. One of them was called Serial Killers in America which was taught by a former police officer. Another was introduction to psychology, taught by a social worker.
I was sitting in the Serial Killer class one morning, way in the back where no one paid me any attention, when the professor (former cop, remember) began telling a story about being called to a house for domestic violence and I remember looking up at her as she said that too often, these things are a "he said, she said," and they're usually both lying.
And it just ignited something angry in my stomach. I was looking for an advisor since I'd been undeclared and I turned that day to the psych professor and asked if she'd fill out my form to be my advisor. As she was, I told her what the other professor said and how much it bothered me and she asked me what I wanted to do. So I told her, and she asked if I'd ever considered social work.
So began six years of perfectionism and the single-minded goal of getting my masters degree and working in the field as a licensed social worker. I remember my first day in orientation at grad school, someone asked if anyone knew where they wanted to be in 5 years. I was the only person who raised their hand. I knew where I wanted to be.
And for the last three years, I got to live that dream. The good, the bad, the horrible- all of it was mine. And today I pack up this office I've worked in for the last three years because its all over. The work was always good and I'm proud of what I've done. I've published papers, I've sat in state-wide commissions, I've talked to legislators, I've presented at conferences and I've trained a new generation of advocates who feel the same passion I do.
It's no secret that people who work in this field are typically survivors themselves. Something about surviving it turns people into advocates, whether they meant to be or not. And often they manage to make it out of the metaphorical burning building, turn around, and decide they need to go back inside to try and get others. The amount of people I've talked to who say, "I want other people to know they're not alone and they can get through this," is numerous. It makes you optimistic, it makes it impossible to ignore the good in humanity even when you're faced with some of the worst people/circumstances you'll ever encounter.
And despite all the petty office politics, a system designed (sometimes purposefully) to make leaving difficult, and state legislators who push back every inch of progress we ever made, I will miss it. The work was always good. I'm proud of the things I did individually for folks, of the amount of times I got to tell someone they did nothing wrong, that they deserved safety and respect.
These three years have been the best and worst of my life, but the work was always good. I will always be in it, will always be standing beside the ghost of my childhood self, offering her a hand and a voice and I think if I accomplished nothing else, at least I did that.
118 notes · View notes
heavencanbeaprisontoo · 3 months
Text
Living with Thomas Shelby Headcanons
Notes: These hcs were made for an AU were Grace doesn’t reunite with Tommy.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, PTSD, some suggestive language, violence.
Tumblr media
Domestic Headcanons
-Tommy is a man that wants his home to be a symbol of sanctuary and his hard-won wealth. Arrow House accomplished that goal. A massive manor made of brick and stone, it reminds you of Tommy in a way. Solid, cold, secretive… hollow. It takes a lot for you to get used to living there. After some time passes, Arrow House’s interior starts to reflect more of your personal tastes. It adds a warmth that was lacking. Tommy won’t admit it, but he’s grateful for it.
- The servants take some adjusting to, absolutely. Tommy actually cracks a smile when you jump at the soft voice of a maid from the doorway. He’s less amused when that jump rips you from his lap. The way Tommy acts in his home, you would think it’s just the two of you living there. He has little issue pushing you to his desk or pinning you to a wall to have his fill of you.
- If you show any sign of knowing how to ride a horse, or that you would like to learn, expect dates on horseback. These dates aren’t necessarily filled with chatter, but you enjoy them. Tommy relaxes in a way you don’t normally see. Traveling over the hills and across these wide plains with him feels so peaceful. Sometimes he talks of his heritage with you. How his mother would tell him stories of his father’s courting of her. They would ride alone, in secret. Horses are precious to his people, as is this time spent with you. A part of him likes seeing that you can live in both worlds with him. Challenge him to a race and you’ll watch the years fall from his face. He becomes almost boy like when he charges past you, perhaps even cracking a smile when he wins.
- He knows many riddles and jokes, he used to say them often. You only found out about it when he told a few silly jokes to a stable boy who had sprained his ankle while working. The boy was terrified Tommy would fire him. He sent him home with his month’s wages and told him to get well.
- When you start sleeping in the same bed as Thomas Shelby as his partner and not just his lover, get ready. His demons always catch up to him in his dreams. He thrashes some nights. Once, Tommy woke you with a scream. The Devil of Small Heath is quick to regain his composure, but you swear you saw him wipe tears from his cheeks. He doesn’t like to be comforted. At least that’s how he tries to act the first few hundred times you attempt to console him. Over time, he lets you hold him. It’s a bit silly. This man let you move in with him and share his bed, yet it took him so long to just let you see him be weak.
Relationship Headcanons
- Beneath all the new money and designer suits beats the heart of a simple man. He likes to read the paper in the mornings and (when he was still drinking) have a splash of whiskey in his coffee. Little homemade things like a lunch packed for him will fluster him. If you rush him with such a thing for him to take with him, it’ll make his day. He will try to refuse, but he doesn’t mean it. Write him a simple note with a kiss. You might just find a stack of these little notes in his desk one day.
- Tommy gets up at odd hours as his sleep is rarely if ever regular. There are mornings where you roll over and his spot in the bed is cold. You call the family office and hear from his secretary that he’s been in for hours. And the sun isn’t even up. That leaves you a lot of time alone in the house. You get to know the staff very well for this reason. Tommy sometimes looks to you to remember the names of butlers or cooks before he makes a specific request or reprimand. The servants all generally like you a lot more than Tommy because of this.
- Lingering touches and soft kisses to the cheek are frequent behind closed doors. Only. No PDA. He hates to look soft. Do not do cute things in front of his men. It will irritate him. That said, privately? He likes to take a seat on the bed you share and have you stand between his legs so he can hold you close. Stare up at you like you hang the stars. Pull you on top of him as he lays back. Perfect way to end a day in Tommy’s opinion.
- Thomas Shelby is a man who loses as much as he gains. People cannot be counted on without fear in his world. No matter how much he loves you, there will always be doubt. Doubt that you won’t survive loving a man like him. Doubt that your loyalty may be decaying with every cold word and impassive wave he sends your way. This is only one of his quirks that have you contemplating homicide on a bad day.
- Part of his fear surrounding you is that he is a man that does not fall first, but he falls harder. You may not always see it, but he would burn the world for you. He will kill for you. If you ever killed for him, Tommy would know his fears were for nothing. Head wouldn’t know what to do with himself after. He’s never had a lover that would watch his back for him like you. Tommy would never ask for you to do it again. Ever. But knowing you’re as dark-hearted as him might make him more open to strategizing with you. Make you his confidant. The Lilith to his Lucifer.
322 notes · View notes
pascalpvnk · 6 months
Text
Pour Choices // You & I
pairing: bartender!joel x f!afab!reader
summary: Austin, Texas was never a dream destination for you, however your work trip there might’ve changed your perspective of the Lone Star State, and it absolutely was not work related.
word count: 6.6k words (oops…)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fluff, smut (dubcon [both drank alcohol], handjob if you squint, oral [f receiving], fingering, unprotected p in v sex [wrap it up!], Joel has had a vasectomy, premature ejaculation, double creampie, alluding to aftercare), possibly ooc, no outbreak AU, Joel is 36 with no specified age for reader, reader described as a woman, use of she/her pronouns, minor body descriptions (reader described as having curves, reader has hair long enough to grasp/pin up, reader is shorter than Joel, he picks up reader for like half a second), time jumping (indicated by solid orange divider), religious euphemisms (?) from Joel (i know that man has religious trauma), alcohol consumption, food consumption
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: hello! I know this is a long time coming but she’s finally here. thank you for being patient with me during this writing process and thank you to those who helped and encouraged me! a special thanks to @delicaatefl0vver for beta reading and supporting and adding to my thots. welcome to the rebirth of my fanfic writing. I hope you enjoy xx (dividers by @/saradika)
main masterlist | series masterlist
Tumblr media
Sat in the corner of the rustling bar, you were sipping on your Manhattan. The drink tasted medicinal, not how you’d usually prefer it. You had watched the young bartender pour heavy on the vermouth, but chose not to say anything. Red lipstick stained the rim of your glass with each sip of the cocktail. The whiskey mixed in and the maraschino cherry garnish were its only saving graces.
A low hanging light illuminated a warm hue across your features. You were surrounded by classic Texan bar decor and architecture; high ceiling rafters, support beams strung with fairy lights, the walls packed with framed posters of all varieties, the occasional beer branded neon sign, and license plates tacked up behind the bar. Two televisions sat flush against opposing walls, both playing a pregame show of Rangers highlights as they counted down to first pitch. The air was thick as the feet of the patrons shuffled around and chair legs scraped against the wood finished floors. Groups of friends, couples, and everyone between flooded through the doors, ushering themselves to an empty table or stool at the bar. Being there on a Friday night right as the outside rush hour died down was a bold choice, but you had one goal in mind.
The moment the music changed from country to rock and roll, you knew it was time to set yourself out to accomplish it.
The click of your high heels contrasted from the stomp of sneakers and cowboy boots. Glass in hand and head held high, your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, you felt it in your throat. You sure as hell weren’t living up to your stoic, stone cold hearted reputation back home. It’s almost as though your heart thawed in the Texas heat. Though your heart changed with the state, your attire didn’t. You stuck out like a sore thumb among the other consumers in your black maxi dress and perfectly pinned up hair. Some eyes gazed towards you, but you were set on finding one pair in particular. The set of eyes that were darker than the coffee he brewed, but the same ones that looked like honey when the sun was setting. The eyes that were facing away from you at the bar as you found a stool. The ones that snapped up towards you with one word.
“Texas.”
You called for him like a melody. Your throat immediately felt dry as a lump formed. He either felt the same way you did or it was a one off fling. You were hoping it was the former. But…it had been two years since you met, so there was a decent chance he was the one that got away.
The way his muscles tensed under his tight Henley gave away that he recognized you simply from your voice. Those beautiful eyes met yours, and his jaw went a little slack, the corners of his mouth curved.
“Evenin’, Miss New York,” Joel drawled, leaning against the counter. “How are ya, darlin’?”
Tumblr media
Joel’s mind was preoccupied before he had seen you the first time, filled with important nonsense that about drove him up the wall.
Gotta make the next schedule. What time is that birthday party Sarah wants t’go to? Wonder if Tommy would be willin’ to take her. No, he’s workin’ on a job site out of town. I need to find someone to cover part of my shift so I can take her. Gotta pay the rent for this month. Can’t keep running the bar if s’gonna be slow like this and that bastard won’t cough up his half of it. God dammit.
“Welcome in, what can I get for ya?” The southern man drawled absentmindedly, tossing a rag over his broad shoulder. The moment his eyes caught yours, his worries washed away. He was only interested in you and your big, beautiful eyes and bright, red lips.
“Whiskey on the rocks. Make it a double please,” you practically sang to him…or at least it sounded like music to his ears. Your ID slipped out of your billfold with ease, and you slid it across the bar as you took a seat. Joel examined the horizontally wide piece of plastic, deciding it was real, especially for a lady ordering a whiskey. A lady from New York, no less.
Joel took in your features for a moment, noticing the difference in your attire and even your accent compared to the other bar patrons. Your beauty was striking to him, making all of the women he’s seen come in flee his memory. He repeated your name over and over in his head, wanting to know how it felt on his tongue. To say he was intrigued would be the understatement of the year.
“You got it, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep and smooth. He poured a generous portion of whiskey into a cut crystal glass and added several cubes of ice, then slid it over to you with a smile. He leaned forward to rest his arms on the bar, eyes lingering on your curves. "So, what brings you in here tonight? The Big Apple too small for ya?"
“Work,” you responded simply, taking a sip from your drink. He watched as your eyes raked down his frame. There was no visible emotion behind them, so he was unsure if you were checking him out or simply giving him a once over.
Joel’s eyes on the other hand drank in your features, not even attempting to hide his gaze. It lingered across your chest and the way your dress contoured your breasts so perfectly. He was damn near drooling at the sight of you taking down your whiskey better than he would. Your face remained expressionless, zero signs of your mouth twisting in distaste. The simple action had him hooked.
He cleared his throat and began polishing some glasses as he continued to have small talk with you.
“Care to elaborate?” He asked, lining the cups along the bar as he shined them one by one.
“Flight just landed. I checked into my hotel and dropped off my stuff. Wanted to take a walk around to see what this city has to offer and I landed here,” you shrugged, taking another drink of your whiskey. “Nice place, are you the owner?”
“Co-owner, yeah,” Joel chuckled. “So I take it, your work stuff starts tomorrow? Or are you drinking on the job?”
“The former,” you smiled softly. “I’m not trying to get fired, they barely trusted me to come out here in the first place.”
His head nodded gingerly. He couldn’t quite tell if you were shooting him down or just quiet after a long day. He wanted to know more. Wanted as much information that he could get from you without coming off as a creep. Deciding to take a minor risk, he continued conversing with you.
“What kind of work are ya doing all the way out here, hm?” He asked politely, restocking the freshly polished glasses back on their designated shelves.
“My uh…my peer, I suppose, is on maternity leave and she represents most of our buildings in Texas. I’ve been doing most of the work over the phone but one of the Austin buildings required a visit. A lot of incident reports to go through.”
The whiskey in your glass was almost gone and he could tell it was opening you up a little bit. First time in the whole conversation you said more than what his question asked for.
“Darlin’, that’s some big wig stuff, and yet you make it sound so inconspicuous,” he drawled, a low rumble of laughter rolling from his chest. “What field are you in? Or is it top secret?”
“Oh! I work in HR,” you let out a small laugh. “Probably should’ve started with that.”
He smirked at how you fumbled over yourself, admiring the way your smile folded the skin around your eyes and exposed a dimple. He could definitely tell he was breaking down your stone wall. His eyes took you in once more. Your lip prints stained red on the once clean glass, immediately grabbing his attention. Arousal shot through his body, directing into his pants. That’s not something he knew he was attracted to.
“Need another, ma’am?” He asked politely and swallowed hard, attempting to look anywhere but your chest. You accepted his offer and opened a tab. Joel was thanking his lucky stars that the universe brought such a beautiful woman into his bar that night. Thanking fate for having him cover this shift.
“Well, I’ll leave you alone, miss. Just holler if you need another drink or y’wanna close out. My name’s Joel,” he smiled with his boyish charm, flipping his towel back over his shoulder before reluctantly diverting his attention to another customer in need.
You stuck around for a bit, snacking on peanuts and watching the baseball game running on the television. Joel felt your eyes burn into the back of his head as he worked.
It was innocent to start. He popped tops off of beers, poured shots, and shook cocktails all while his cheeks burned pink under the heat of your gaze. Then he intentionally reached up to the top shelf more often, flexing his muscles and letting his shirt ride up his back to grab your attention again and again. It became increasingly difficult for you to peel your eyes off of him the more you drank.
And he noticed.
A couple hours passed, and before you knew it, the clock was nearing midnight. Joel walked around the bar, going to each empty table and wiping them thoroughly. He restocked everything as most of the small crowd filed out. He took a look at you from the front door, admiring the curves that were hardly hidden under your snug dress as you watched the TV mindlessly.
“Well darlin’,” he began as he approached the bar again. “I don’t know what time you have to work in the morning but it’s getting late. Wanna close out your tab?”
“I s’pose so,” you chuckled, copying his accent a little by accident. Your tired, drunken smile made his heart flutter.
A small smile plastered itself across Joel’s face as he ran your card. He let it process, grabbing both receipts and scribbling something on them.
“Can I call you a cab, sweetheart? They aren’t driving around all the time like they do back home for you,” he offered, handing you the merchant copy receipt. He crossed out all of the options to tip, just requiring your signature. You tried to protest, but he silenced your argument.
“Yeah,” you hiccuped. “That would be nice, thank you.”
Joel examined you cleaning up your peanut shell debris as he called for the cab. You signed the receipt, and slid his copy back across the bar. He noticed your subtle smile as you noticed ten digits written neatly on the customer copy.
The line went dead when the conversation concluded, and Joel put the phone back on its charger. He noticed how you folded the receipt paper and tucked it safely into your clutch along with your debit card.
“Cab should be here in ‘bout ten minutes. Um,” he cleared his throat. “If ya need someone to recommend restaurants or if you want a tour of any sort, I hope that’ll come in handy.”
Joel gestured towards your clutch, the current home of his phone number. He wanted to ask you out, so so badly, but you were intoxicated and he didn’t want to give a bad impression. If it was meant to be, you’d take the initiative, at least that’s what he told himself.
“I bet it will,” you openly flirted. Joel knew better than to return the sentiment, but it was so damn difficult. His mama would’ve smacked him upside the head if he had, and that was enough to stop him. All he offered was a smirk before turning away and gathering dishes to be brought back to the pile of other used utensils.
“D’ya need a water or anything?” Joel asked, already reaching for a clean cup. You nodded and he filled the glass first with ice, followed with water and a straw. Laying a napkin on the counter, Joel gently set your water down with a close lipped smile.
“Thanks for stopping in, darlin’,” he said just loud enough to be heard over the rock music he had playing. “Get back to that hotel of yours safely, alright? Don’t wanna hear about Miss New York on the news. They never show anything positive nowadays.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” you chuckled, gathering your things to leave after drinking most of the glass. He took these moments to really take you in, dramatically telling himself that this could be the last time he’d ever see you. Last time he’d witness your cherry stained, stunning, yet intoxicated smile, your soft skin, and those gorgeous eyes.
His admiration was interrupted by the honk erupting from the impatient taxi driver’s vehicle outside. You turned on your heel, offering a ‘goodnight, Texas!’ before walking out the door. Joel scrubbed a hand across his beard, huffing a self deprecating laugh and a muttered ‘shit’ before continuing to close up shop. He beat himself up internally while cleaning the dishes until his phone buzzed. He dug the device from his pocket, flipping it open to see a text from an unknown number.
“Didn’t end up on the news. What a bummer! Maybe next time ;)”
Joel smiled to himself, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He finished his closing tasks and made a little to-go Shirley Temple mocktail for his daughter. Before exiting the building for the night, he turned off the glowing ‘Pour Choices’ sign and locked the door behind him. His smile faded as he left his bar behind, remembering his life’s reality and his responsibilities. Those stressors sat heavy once more upon his shoulders until he fell into a deep slumber that night.
Tumblr media
Your first full day of work was exhausting to say the least, and the small hangover you suffered did not help one bit. And whoever decided you should come to Austin in August had become your own mortal enemy. You’re used to your mild summers back home, not sweating so much that your clothes stick to you uncomfortably. But the thing that bothered you the most was the imminent, distracting thought of Joel, especially as the sun retired behind the horizon. The way the fabric of his shirt pulled taut around his thick biceps and how they flexed every time he mixed up drinks. You had watched him use his charm to get tips practically thrown at him by the other patrons, he really put that handsome grin to work. 
You were alone in your hotel. There wasn’t a scheduled dinner with your team, so you sat in bed watching Scrubs reruns and eating what constituted your dinner: cheese, crackers and pepperoni slices you picked up from the grocery store. A little disassembled charcuterie board if you will.
Beckoning your attention, your phone buzzed against your nightstand. The caller ID had your heart pounding against your chest. Joel. It was almost like he could read your mind.
“Hello?” You started, wiping the crumbs off of your fingers and lowering the volume on the show. 
“Evenin’,” he drawled out your name. His voice came across gruffer and frankly hotter over the phone than in person. The way it fed directly into your ears had a chill running down your spine.
“Night off?” You asked nonchalantly, a sad attempt of remaining mysterious, knowing if he was sat next to you, you’d melt into a puddle.
“Mhm,” he hummed, pausing for a moment and chuckling quietly. “Sorry for callin’ late. I’d text but that would’a taken me a decade. How was today? Hope that whiskey didn’t ruin your morning.”
The smile you sported grew in size. It felt nice having a normal conversation that wasn’t work related…even if it was with someone you just met.
“It was good! Busy but good. I had a headache but nothing I couldn’t handle. It’s stupid hot here though, didn’t appreciate that,” you hummed to yourself in thought. “Nothing much happened, lots of meetings. Now I’m just hanging out in my hotel. How about you?”
“Same here, nothin’ much. Are ya doing anythin’ or just wallowin’ in your loneliness?” He teased, testing the waters a little. You wish you could see his face. See whether he was sporting a shit eating grin or if he was gnawing on his lip nervously.
“Ha-ha,” you shot back, pressing your cell between your cheek and shoulder to stand up and settle near the window. “I’m watching TV and eating my nutritious dinner of cheese, crackers and pepperoni, thank you very much.”
“Dinner?” He scoffed. “Now I think you need'ta hustle on over here and have a real meal. You can’t possibly be callin’ all ‘f those HR shots with that diet, hm?”
You gotta give it to him, you aren’t that smooth on a whim, that takes practice. Looking out at the Austin skyline, you snickered to yourself and leaned against the window’s frame. 
“C’mon, I have almost all of my food groups in front of me, I don’t think that’s too horrible,” you retaliated jokingly. “What do you have to offer, huh?”
“Well you got me there, darlin’. I do have wine if you wanna round out your meal,” he offered. You could hear faint tapping coming from the line. He was nervous. 
Considering the proposal, you decided to take it, despite your early morning and full day approaching. Joel offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to pay for another cab and you gratefully accepted. You quickly got changed back out of your sleepwear into something almost equally as comfy and perhaps a bit more revealing. 
So you find yourself sat on Joel Miller’s couch. The ride was fine, you chatted like before, but with a bit more direct flirting. You observed his spaces. His truck was simple, a little, beat up pickup, but you were sure it got his work done. There were scuff marks from tennis shoes on his dash. Your mind wandered as you imagined if they were from a friend or former lover, but you didn’t let it bother you.  
There was a little pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror. The smell of its woody scent combined with his warm, leathery cologne and a hint of Irish Spring all flooded your senses. And god, he didn’t just smell good, he looked so good.
Joel looked perfect in the driver’s seat, his biceps straining against his smooth skin as he gripped the wheel, prominent veins popping through his forearms. Looked so cozy in his small kitchen, pouring both of you a hefty glass of rosé. His hands enveloped his cup entirely as he brought it to his plush lips. The way they framed his teeth when he smiled down at you gave you heart palpitations.
And even sitting comfortably in the corner of his L-shaped couch, Joel continued to look amazing. His leg was crossed over the other, creating the perfect shelf on his knee for his wine. Those arms stretched far across the back of the couch as he fidgeted with a loose string stuck on the cushion. Everything about him screamed disciplined. The way his spaces were mostly neat, organized and decently decorated added to your observation. He belonged here, and it seemed like he worked hard to get the things he earned.
The casual facade you had faded away the longer you chatted about your lives and sipped on your glasses. Topics like work and hobbies came into conversation, and you learned that Joel liked to play with guitar and sing a little—only when he was alone of course. Then you began talking about more personal matters, like your relationship statuses. 
“You’re kidding!” You exclaimed, feeling warm from the wine in your system. “You don’t have a girlfriend or anything?”
Joel chuckled and shook his head down at the couch. You watched as he observed the cushions-worth of space between you two. By that point, you were fully turned ninety degrees to face him in conversation, your legs tucked comfortably under you. Your face felt hot as you wielded the half empty, stemless wine glass.  
“What about the kid in your pictures? Is she your niece or something?” You were referring to the framed photos both nailed to the wall and decorating the table in his entryway. Most of them contained himself and the child, whether she was celebrating with a soccer ball and a trophy or blowing out candles on a cake, her wild curls spilling every which way from her party hat.
“Nah, she’s all mine. My Sarah turned fourteen a few weeks ago,” he smiled to himself, making your heart clench and pound against the confines of your ribcage. The proud look he had on his face told you about everything you needed to know about his relationship with his daughter.
“Fourteen? You don’t seem old enough to have a teenager,” you chuckle. “Where is she tonight? Seems like you got the house to yourself.”
“Why I'm flattered. She’s got a friend’s birthday party sleepover thing. That’s why I had to take the night off. I’m her personal chauffeur, of course,” Joel offered a curtsey jokingly.
Your smile widened as you brought your now second glass of rosé up to sip once more. You don’t care to ask about Sarah’s mother, it was a personal matter and possibly a sensitive subject. 
A comfortable silence fell between you as you looked at one another. You watched the automatic rise and fall of his chest and the way his cheeks burned from your gaze. His chocolate eyes bore into yours, melting your heart without even trying. His exterior was gruff and masculine but he had proven time and time again that he was probably one of the kindest men you have met. Must be that southern charm and hospitality, but man was it addicting. 
“What?” He barely asked above a whisper, copying your actions with his wine. His attempt to hide his smile behind his clear cup obviously failed. His blush spread down his neck and you could only imagine if it went any farther down. Your thoughts of Joel were beginning to become tainted by your blooming arousal. You wanted him. On top of you, under you, you’d take anything and the growing wetness pooling in your panties was evidence of that. 
“Can I be blunt, Joel?” You grinned as you sunk a bit further into the cushion against your side. He responded with a hummed ‘mhm’ so you’d continue, bringing his hand back into his lap. The fabric of his joggers barely contained his strong thighs, making it more and more difficult to contain your urge to see what else lied beneath his pants.
“I really wanna kiss you,” you admitted cheekily, fairly certain that he was thinking the same thing. 
“Oh, do ya now?” He smirked, leaning over to pluck your glass from your grasp and put it safely on his coffee table along with his own.
“I think you’re a little mind reader,” Joel continued. “‘Cause I was thinkin’ the same thing. Bet those pretty lips are real soft.” His hand found your waist after you confirmed he had consent as he guided you onto his lap. You hummed contently as you draped your arms over his shoulders, toying with the stray, chestnut curls at his nape. 
“What happened to Mr. Shy Guy, huh?” You teased, letting his calloused hands explore the expanse of your back as your lips ghosted over his.
“Not shy, just polite, sweetheart,” he rasped before closing the gap between you two. His palms were flush against your lower back, radiating heat through the thin material of your shirt. 
You melted into him, bodies pressed as close as possible without your knees sinking between the couch cushions. Lips slotted together and hands wandered as you filled all of your senses with Joel. His tongue was stained with a familiar smoky taste, which was definitely not coming from the wine
“Why do you taste like whiskey?” Your mouth formed a smile against his matching one. His hand cupped your cheek as a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest.
“Had some before I called ya,” he admitted bashfully. “Doesn’t matter now.”
In an instant, he was kissing you once more with increased passion, making you completely forgo the subject. His tongue flicked into your mouth, teasing the delicate skin on the inside of your lips. He gripped at your hips, trying to pull you closer to him but your legs protested against his furniture.
“Scoot forward,” you mumbled against him. And he did what he was told. His hips shifted forward, granting you more room to sit directly on his lap. Sighs were drawn from both of you as you settled back into each other, his cock already half hard under you. Your fingers messed with the hair behind his ears, earning a pleased moan from him.
“This doesn’t have to go anywhere if you don’t wan’ it to,” he panted between kisses. Just above a whisper, you uttered, ‘I want it,’ and Joel’s hands took it as permission to explore further down your body, palming at your ass through your shorts.
A whimper slipped between your lips into Joel’s, and he swallowed it whole. He pressed your body closer to his, your clothed sex dragging over his sweatpants. His cock twitched up in response to your mouth finding his jaw, his short beard scratching against you.
“Lemme take care of you,” you mused, bringing your hands up the sides of his face. He relaxed back into the couch, his blunt nails pushing under your shorts into the meat of your bare thighs.
You started by kissing his lips once more, then the two prominent patches of missing hair on his chin, and made your way down to his throat. His adam's apple bobbed under your touch as pants grew tighter on him.
“Knew you’d have the best lips, fuck,” he mumbled as you licked up the side of his neck, his pulse racing under your tongue. “Can’t wait to feel your pretty pussy ‘round my cock, sweetheart.”
“Patience, handsome,” you whispered into his ear, your breath sending chills through his body. He let go of your legs as you bunched his shirt into your palms, sitting up to help remove it. Hair scattered sparsely on his chest, pausing on his upper stomach only to come back thicker as it disappeared into his boxers.
Your palms dragged down his torso, skimming over his nipples and ribs as he naturally recoiled from the stimulation. You gently kissed and sucked at his collarbone so it could be hidden away under his shirt. Color rose to the surface of his skin the more you worked at it, flattening your tongue against it once you decided your mark was left properly.
Joel was breathing heavily under you, his hands snaking under your shirt to your breasts. Your nipples were already pebbled through your bralette, becoming unbearably hard the moment Joel started running his thumbs over them. He gently pushed your shirt and bra above your tits, leaning forward to bring one to his mouth as his hand toyed with the other. His tongue lapped your skin, rounding the hardened nipple and sucking it back slightly. An image of him doing the same to your clit had your eyes rolling back with pleasure.
“Joel,” you mewled as he switched breasts. He spread his saliva around your areola as he picked up his ministrations on the other. A groan vibrated against your skin as your nails raked down his happy trail.
“Wanna suck your cock,” you continued, holding onto the waistbands of his pants and underwear. His unused hand covered yours entirely, pushing it down to free his throbbing cock from its confines, the tip weeping with precum. Never in your life had you seen a dick so big before, and you couldn’t wait for it to split you in half.
“I won’t last a minute in your mouth, sweet girl,” he drawled, reaching back up to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Don’t wanna come before you.”
Spitting onto your fingertips, you mixed it with the slick seeping from his tip then dragged it down his shaft, squeezing it in your palm on the way back up. Joel groaned into your neck. He wedged his hands back under your top, lifting it over your head and forcing your hand to leave his cock.
“Need’ta taste you first,” he muttered, his amber irises completely eclipsed by his pupils. Joel removed you from his lap and laid you down onto the couch. You watched as he settled between your legs and hooked his thick fingers into your bottoms, licking his lips. Raising your hips, he pulled everything off of you, leaving you bare. Cool air hit your glistening pussy, sending a shiver up your spine. You whined out his name after he stared at you for a moment.
“What?” He cooed, smoothing his hands over your inner thighs. “Wan’ me to touch ya, hm? Fuck you with my fingers ‘n stretch that pretty pussy out? Maybe suck on your clit. S’that what you want, darlin’?”
You nod your head furiously, dying with anticipation to have his hands, mouth, something on you. Wordlessly, your foot hooked around the back of his leg as you attempted to pull him closer to you.
“Ah ah,” he tsked. “I think ya gotta ask for it, honey. Ask for it nicely.”
“Fuck,” you whined with desperation. You could feel your arousal dripping down your ass and ultimately onto the couch. “Please fill me up, touch me, taste me, whatever you want.”
“Good, so good f’me. Open up,” he encouraged, slotting his first two digits between your lips. He spread them on each side of your tongue. Saliva collected on his thick fingers as you swirled your tongue around them in figure eights. A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest.
“Yeah I’m gonna put my cock in this pretty mouth next time, baby. Feels perfect on my fingers,” he grumbled. His fingers came out of your mouth with a pop, a string of spit connecting him to you. 
Joel finally slipped his fingers through your swollen folds, teasing your entrance and collecting more slick. His fingertips circled lightly around your clit, drawing a broken moan from your throat. His free hand tapped against your hip, signaling you to raise them with an ‘up.’ He grabbed a throw pillow and positioned it under you. You relaxed your already trembling legs, and he had barely even touched you.
He settled onto his stomach, spreading your legs apart as far as they’d go. A pointer finger breached your entrance as he kissed the seam where your thigh and pussy came together. Soft moans escaped you as you carded your fingers through his curls. His smug eyes met yours as his tongue moved everywhere but your clit. He looked better than ever between your legs, and you didn’t know that could be possible. His teasing was deserved for what you were doing previously, but it was agonizing.
“Please, Joel,” you groaned. “Please gimme more, I need you.”
Obliging to your request, Joel added another finger into your cunt, curling them both and stroking your g-spot expertly. All of the air left your lungs the moment his flattened tongue finally found your clit. Joel’s groan vibrated throughout your entire pussy, adding to each sensation deliciously. It didn’t take much more for your legs to start shaking and squeezing his head between your thighs, a hot sensation bubbling in your lower belly.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come, don’t stop,” you cried, grasping Joel’s hair much tighter than before. He suckled your clit and flicked his tongue over it with a moan, sending you flying over the edge. Your walls fluttered around his fingers and he rode you through your high. He kissed your trembling thighs until they relaxed, his unmoving fingers still stuffed inside you.
“God, you’re even sexier when you come, sugar. Taste even sweeter too,” he hummed, shifting himself up your body until his lips found yours again. He tasted still of whiskey but with a mix of your arousal.
Joel brought his now soaked fingers back into your mouth to replace his tongue, urging you to suck all of your spend off of them. You hummed around his digits and wrapped your quivering legs around his waist.
“And you were preachin’ to me about patience,” he teased, removing his fingers and stroking his cock a couple times. He was sitting up and resting on his heels, looking like pure sex. His proportions were perfect, he was broad and you’d happily let him crush you under his weight. 
“It’s hard to be patient when you look at me like that,” you muse, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Joel snickered quietly, dragging his nails over your inner thighs. Goosebumps followed behind his light touch and your legs twitched when he got close enough to your sensitive core.
“So,” Joel began, settling comfortably on top of you and kissing your jaw. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was tested last n’ I’ve had a vasectomy. But I’ll gladly get a condom if ya want me to.”
“Hmm, a gentleman,” you grinned, your fingers finding their way back into his hair as you enjoyed his affection. “I’m clean and more than okay without it.”
Joel slotted his cock into your slit with a smirk, groaning at the new sensation. His tip nudged at your clit with each pass, earning moans from both parties. 
“Almost came all over this couch with you clenchin’ ‘round my fingers like that, honey,” he drawled. “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”
You gave him a reassuring kiss as you wedged your hand down between you two. Lining up his tip with your entrance, you watched as he disappeared into your welcoming cunt. His face pressed into your neck as he slowly sank into you, anchoring himself with his hands planted on your waist and thigh. Strings of profanities left him as he stretched you out, the pressure you felt quickly morphing into pleasure. 
“Shit,” you hissed when he bottomed out. “Feels so good, Joel.”
You urged him to continue, and he complied. Starting slow, he pulled out halfway and pushed back in to test the waters. The drag of your core had his toes curling. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t last long. His cock swelled in you after a few minutes as he panted into your neck. 
“Fuck, fuck I’m sorry,” he grunted.
“S’okay, come for me, Joel. Please,” you consoled him, wrapping your legs around his hips tighter. He spilled into you, the sticky fluid coating your inner walls. Your nails dragged along the expanse of his back as he caught his breath.
His face emerged from the crook of your neck, flush and sweaty. He tried apologizing once more but you shushed him. Your lips met again as you grasped his dampened curls, pulling at his locks harder than before. Cock stiffening up again, Joel resumed thrusting into you slowly. A squelching sound emitted from your pussy as his pace quickened.
“Joel,” you gasped, tangling yourself around him tighter. He took it as an opportunity to scoop you up and change positions, sitting on the couch and giving you the freedom to ride him. 
“Wan’ you comin’ on my cock, beautiful,” he moaned. His calloused fingertips circled your clit as he fucked his load deeper into you. You bounced on him, his cock spearing you. The tip hit your g-spot with each thrust. Stars sparkled in your vision as you clenched down on him hard.
“C’mon, use my cock, make yourself come. That’s it, fuck.”
His hips bucked up to meet yours halfway, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout his living room. You were a moaning mess, chanting his name haphazardly. Your walls clamped down around him and milked any remaining cum from him as you both reached your second peaks.
“Christ,” he groaned, stilling inside of you. The mixture of your fluids seeped from your fluttering hole. Joel smoothed his palms over your sweat slick back, peppering kisses along your shoulders and collarbone. Praises flew from his mouth like a prayer and you were his goddess, all his to worship.
Joel used his sweatpants to catch any leakage as his softened cock slipped out from you. He took his time with you, helping you regain your composure with more kisses and lingering touches. You followed him to his room where he properly cleaned you up and gave you a Texas Longhorns shirt and boxer shorts.
“You’re more than welcome t’stay,” Joel offered. “Or I can drive ya back. Your choice, sweetheart.”
Your arms snaked up and around his shoulders, stretching yourself up on your tiptoes. A smile crept onto your face as Joel held you steady by your ass. You peeked over at his unmade bed with only two measly pillows, one of them crumpled up in the middle of his bed. A shy smile adorned his face as you refocused on him. He was going to be the death of you.
“Set an alarm and take me to bed, cowboy.”
Tumblr media
Late into the following evening, you found yourself back in Pour Choices. A lingering soreness twinged between your legs the entire day. You weren’t there to drink. You wanted Joel.
He started his usual greeting until he realized you had stepped through the doors, another black dress clinging to your body and lips stained a deeper shade of red than before.
“Hey, darlin’,” he smiled breathlessly. You sauntered over to the bar, leaning in close and cutting to the chase in a seductive whisper.
“I’m gonna sit in the corner and wait for you to close up. Wanna return the favor from last night.”
Joel can confidently say that was his quickest close of his career, and you can just as confidently state that you successfully returned the favor, covering that poor man with crimson lip prints. He’d never complain about the physical reminder of you, using it as inspiration on the nights he craved you while you were away. He never thought he’d go from having everything from you for a couple weeks to having nothing for over a year.
Tumblr media
“Wasn’t sure if you were gonna remember me,” you smiled softly, a twinge of sadness in your eyes. He chuckled and shook his head, grabbing a new glass and some ice.
“I could never forget you, sugar,” he smirked, grabbing a top shelf whiskey and pouring it into the glass. The crackle of the ice drew your attention. You were always a sucker for whiskey. He remembered.
“On the house, darlin’. Want me to take your other drink? Doesn’t seem like you enjoyed it,” Joel pointed to the condensation lined cup with the half dranken Manhattan. “I know you’re not the sipping type of gal.”
“Yeah, thank you,” you smiled brighter as he took away the used cup. “Y’all don’t make Manhattans like they do back home,” you jabbed, taking a big gulp of the chilled whiskey. Those familiar lip prints stamped on the glass.
“But,” you continued, glancing at his bare ring finger. You observed the sprouting grays in his sideburns and deepened creases on his face, seeing the effect that the last two years had on him. “Y’all have something that New York doesn’t.”
You traced the rim of the glass, trying to pick up any emotion from his expressionless face. He did however crack a small smirk at your comment and leaned against the bar with both hands. Suddenly it felt like everyone else disappeared and it was just you and him in the moment.
“Hm, and what’s that, sweetheart?” He leaned closer and replied softly, but just loud enough for only you to hear. 
“You, Joel.”
Tumblr media
to keep up to date on upcoming parts, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications. thank you for reading!! <3
220 notes · View notes
hakkasm · 27 days
Text
Tumblr media
↑You can read all the pages from the link above!
[Comic] Mafia Sitter
I started writing in mid-January to submit to the Global Comic Award 2024 and finally completed it. Continuing from there is a long feedback.
The working time is two months for the main text and two weeks for the cover. Around January 11th, I received a DM from a friend saying, "There's a contest like this," and thought, "The deadline is the end of March... it's impossible for me (I've never drawn a completed comic before)." But it's a comic contest aimed at the world... My art style is only recognized in this contest... I couldn't ignore this contest. I was in the middle of making another piece, but I interrupted it, and I was full of anxiety about whether I could draw a comic in just two and a half months. However, the thought, "Instead of worrying, I should act quickly," came to my mind, and I started writing from January 13th, changing my mindset.
I spent 1 day on the script, plus 1 day typing the dialogue, and started the "completed 1 page per day" lifestyle from January 16th.
The goal was to complete 45 pages, but at the plotting stage, it was about 56 pages. When I actually started drawing the manuscript, the planned page allocation didn't match, and the total number of pages increased to 65. (I learned the importance of page allocation.) At a pace of 1 page per day, I wondered if I would make it by March... (I'm easily bored, I didn't think I could do 1 page per day.) So, I rearranged my schedule to make 3 pages on weekends, which would give me some leeway. This idea turned out to be a big success.
As a result, I achieved 1 page per day and was able to finish drawing all the pages by early March, leaving the remaining time to work on the cover, which is like the face of the comic.
Since I work as a company employee, I had to finish work by 8:00 p.m. to make time for the manuscript, which was a daily pressure. There were times when I finished the manuscript at 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. on weekdays. I fell ill. At that time, I felt like giving up. (On the day I fell ill, I slept for about two hours and resumed manuscript production after my condition improved a bit.)
It was truly a life of "pushing myself to the limit", but accomplishing it gave me confidence. 'Oh, I can make a 65-page full-color comic in 2 months.' It became an advantage for me. (I don't want to push myself like this anymore, though... haha.)
Thank you for participating in the survey for the title logo! The survey results leaned towards the left logo. While the left logo was packed with concept, its font style and thickness varied, resulting in imbalance when aligned in a row and making it difficult to use in monochrome. If the left logo had overwhelmingly won the votes, I would have chosen it. However, since the right logo also received a considerable number of votes, I decided to adopt the right logo.
Now all that's left is to see the results on Global Comic Award. I'm really aiming to win. Both the script and the art are amateur-level when viewed separately, but I balanced them out to make them good enough.
It's my first comic work... I really want a lot of people to read it! *If enough people like the comic and want to get a copy of the comic book, I can make and sell it:)
91 notes · View notes
theminecraftbee · 4 months
Text
more seriously i'm realizing the thing that makes it hard to go back to vanilla minecraft for me is that vault hunters, and then modded as a whole, is way less... self-guided than vanilla. like, okay, no, you can play modded in a very free, self-guided way, like if you just install create and go ham the progression is very similar to vanilla. but in something like vault hunters or another modpack, there are often quest systems that give you concrete goals as you go that help like... scaffold what you're doing. it makes it easier for my brain to latch on to. but it's not just that; it's ALSO that, by the nature of certain things in modded, i have ways to set my own progression goals WELL PAST the 'endgame' of minecraft that aren't just 'build a really big thing', and give me a sense of being Better and More Efficient now.
like, okay. in my current vault hunters playthrough i am level 90. i have been playing since like, september i think? normally by now in vanilla i've hit endgame and don't really need anything else and then i quit. but in vault hunters, even though i've very reached endgame there, i have things i can do that will give me a real sense of Actual Progression. on the vault hunters end, my Actual Progression goal is to make my divine paradox vault as good as possible and unlock some of the god armor transmogs. on the modded end, i am DEEP in mekanism and can go 'well, if i make a fusion reactor i can make antimatter, which will make me REALLY post-scarcity, but also means i'll be generating power that doesn't risk exploding and is more effective than my current fission reactor is. maybe i'll quintuple ores while i'm at it.'
and yeah, those are ALSO an unnecessary self-directed goals! they're basically the equivalent of 'i should build a megabase' in terms of absurd resource grind and being unnecessary! but at the end i get something Tangible that makes me Better At Game, which makes it feel like i'm accomplishing something a little better than giant builds tend to for me. like, at the end of my god altar arbitrary goal, i get something. at the end of my mekanism arbitrary goal, i get something. but ALSO i get something at every grindy step along the way, too, and at least FOR ME, modded is better than vanilla at giving me rewards for my progress?
and this isn't me saying there SHOULD be more 'rewards' for progress in vanilla minecraft; part of the whole POINT of minecraft is that it's open-ended and self-driven. it's just that that's also the reason that the moment i make it to the end in one of my minecraft playthroughs i'm like. well i could grind for netherite but i don't like building that much so i guess it's time to pack it up and do something else instead. for someone else, having so many concrete goals would feel railroady and break the 'progression', or lack thereof, of vanilla minecraft! i get that.
they're different playstyles and it makes perfect sense why someone might prefer one to the other is what i'm saying, but like, if you've only ever tried to play modded in packs WITHOUT a quest or progression system to help guide you, let this be me saying "no i actually think that's an integral part of the first time playing modded experience in order to GET why people like modded", yeah?
89 notes · View notes
ahhhwomen · 9 months
Text
Plan Set in Motion
Tumblr media
Trigger Happy AU
Part 4
Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
A/N: Now things will finally start being put into action, heed the warnings people… Like seriously, I can’t believe I wrote this. This shit is deeply disturbing. (Also please tell me how yall feel about Natasha in this one. ≖‿≖ ) Sorry about the late update, life be wild  ಥ‿ಥ
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.
AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI 18+
Warnings Part 4: Allusions to heavy pet play, kidnapping, Mommy kink, pure violence, drugging, angst, framed murder, deeply obsessive behavior, a lot of blood, death
Summary: Officer Wanda has waited long enough, it's time for you to be hers. Even if that means getting rid of a few people on the way…
Word Count: 3323
Jessica never came home.
You had been a ball of stress when you woke the next day, after the coach incident. There had been no reply to any of the texts you sent her the day before. You even called her useless boyfriend in the morning, but still, nothing.
Jessica had always been a wild one. She was always trying to drag you into something, whether it be, parties, hangouts, or bizarre new activities. She had lured you into going bungee jumping with her once. She had complained about how no one wanted to try her new thing and how she was sick of going on road trips alone since this thing of hers was 3 hours away. You knew it was a trap, but nonetheless, after a week of complaints, you went with her.
She still makes fun of how she had to drag you out of her car when you saw what she had been insinuating.
One never really knew what she was up to. Yet, you had this feeling deep in your gut that told you to find her.
So that’s what you would do.
When you collided with someone, you had been running out the door, one foot barely in your shoe. Officer Maximoff was paying her visit. You can’t believe it was just this morning, it feels like ages ago, as you lay in the back of her car. Numb.
“Woah there, where are you going pretty girl?” Wanda smirked down at you.
The interview.
In your panicked frenzy, you had completely forgotten. You almost stumbled over yourself as you tried to string a sentence together while pushing past her. Too much was happening, and her arrival had not helped your messy state of mind. “I'm sorry Officer I have to reschedule,” she frowned, “I have to find my friend. So, if you can excuse me I just have to-“ You were almost past her when she repositioned herself in front of you, standing still as steel.
Her hands took hold of your shoulders, squeezing firmly, grounding you. “Calm down,” she fixed you with a stern but comforting look “What was that about your friend?” At the time you didn’t catch onto the malice in her tone as she dragged the word out, ‘friend’.
You know better now.
////
Wanda had been scolded by her commanding officer when she packed up to go interrogate you, especially since she was going without her ‘partner’. They both knew there was no reason to, but Wanda wasn’t going to let some mild annoyance stop her. Not when she was so close to getting what she wanted.
Plus, Jessica`s whining was starting to piss her off, big time.
“I'm just being thorough Romanoff,” Natasha looked unimpressed. They had been good friends since college. When they realized they were complete opposites in all sense but one.
Wanda had been quiet and preserved, while Natasha was the star student and outgoing. Their shared interests came to light when they had been paired up for a project in science.
They were in the middle of discussing two different methods of accomplishing their end goal when Wanda pulled out her notebook to scribble something down. However, it wasn’t until Natasha let out a gasp of surprise that she looked down. She had opened her sketchbook, a book that was filled with drawings from her perverted mind. This time she had opened the page where a woman was withering on the floor with a boot pressing into her chest and a collar around her neck.
Wanda tried to explain in a flurry, but Natasha had stopped her and shared that she had similar interests and that it was nothing to be ashamed of. They had fooled around a little after that, but quickly realized they both wanted submission from their other half and stayed good friends instead.
As they grew older, they both became more corrupt and would often discuss how they wanted to have someone so completely that they couldn’t function without them. To own them no matter the price. It was by chance that they ended up at the same station, but that wasn’t going to stop Wanda from taking advantage of it.
Wanda ran her hands down her jacket as Natasha made her opinion heard with just a simple scrunch of her eyebrows. “Don’t scrutinize me Tash, your just jealous you couldn’t claim her first.” The other redhead sat down on the edge of Wanda's desk. “Please, I haven’t even met the girl, I'm just wondering what could be so special about her to make you do something stupid.” Wanda fixed her with a glance. She knew the other woman found her obsessiveness to be rash, but she didn’t appreciate her tone, and she made it known.
Natasha raised her hands and leaned more into the desk. She may not completely agree with her friend, but she knew better than to anger her. “Fine, but if it doesn’t go according to plan, don’t come crying to me about it.”
Wanda grinned while producing her best puppy dog eyes.
The other woman huffed and pinched her pointer and thumb together between her eyebrows. This was going to give her a headache later, she could feel it. “What do you need?”
/////
You had been driven around for hours, Wanda had insisted she drive, but still nothing. You had looked everywhere, but there was no sign of her. The sun was already on the way down when Wanda said she should stop somewhere to get some food.
You were left in the car to ponder as she went in to order for the both of you.
The nice officer sure was a touchy woman. Throughout the entire day of driving and questioning people, she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off you. Whether it be resting her hand on your thigh while driving or holding you around your waist as you questioned people close to Jessica. You felt a bit guilty for how good it felt. Your friend was missing and yet all your horny brain could think about was how right the officer's touch felt.
You became aware of her presence again when the car door slammed shut.
You looked over, curious as to what she got, she already had her hand outstretched to you. Handing you an order of chicken nuggets from the kid's menu, she began happily eating her salad.
You blushed and let out a quiet “thank you” as she remained unaware of your embarrassment, well that answers why she was so unashamedly touchy. You were nothing but a grown child to this woman.
You grumble a little to yourself as you started eating.
While chewing on your food you look at the woman beside you. You had gathered close to no information about Jessica, but you had learned quite a bit about Wanda today. You figured it was her way of keeping you from spiraling. For every area and person failing to answer your questions, Wanda would talk a little about herself.
It started with you asking her why she was helping you, to that she had just laughed, saying how it was quite literally her job. Then she talked a little about how her work was mostly boring anyways and that she was almost a bit grateful for having something to do. You should probably have been offended by that, your friend was missing and this officer thought it was nothing but a silly mystery game to solve, but you couldn’t help feeling a little better with this information. At least you weren’t boring her.
She then talked about how annoying her work partner was. How “just because we are both single doesn’t mean I want anything to do with him outside of work”. Apparently, he had been trying to get with her since he started a few months prior. You could feel annoyance crawl inside of you, what an asshole.
She mentioned how her twin brother also went missing for a few days when they were younger. Turns out he thought he could live like Tarzan but returned 2 days after leaving because he got hungry. You laughed a little at that. That’s how you learned she was from Sokovia, you would have never guessed given the lack of accent.
She was comforting to be around.
You yawned.
Wanda glanced over at you as you started getting dizzy. Why were you so fatigued all of a sudden? Wanda leaned over to your side, taking away your food and fastening your seatbelt, you tried to get words out, but your mind was jumbled.
What- why wefvj ajsfklroelh….
////////
You wake up slowly. It feels like the world is spinning as you take in your surroundings. You were in your apartment, but it looks nothing like how it should. You have always been a bit of an obsessive cleaner and as much as a dust particle out of place could make you more than a little grumpy, so you can wholeheartedly say it’s never been like this before. Your coach was flipped upside down again, your living room was filled with beer bottles that were mostly empty and there was trash in every corner of the room.
Not only that but you feel really bad, with a headache stronger than anything you have had before and your jaw strangely sore, you become even more confused. When the grogginess begins to fade and sounds are more clear you become alarmed by a muffled voice in front of you.
Jessica.
She’s tied up to a chair, opposite of you, and has a ball gag in her mouth.
What the hell? You try to move around but a voice stops you. “There you go, baby girl.” You whip your head to the side in surprise. Officer Wanda Maximoff is standing to the left of you with a baseball bat in her hands. A baseball bat that you recognize. You had bought it as soon as you moved out, your father had always made sure that you knew how to protect yourself and advised you on getting something for your apartment. It had been left unused underneath your bed as a precaution.
What is happening?
Your mind is still messed up from whatever she must have given you, but you try to speak. “Gulrgh” only for you to gurgle instead. Suddenly the soreness in your jaw makes more sense, and as the rasp of what could only be rope, digs into your wrist and midsection you realized just how dire this situation is.
Wanda chuckles as you struggle against your bounds.
She goes to reach for your chin, but you flinch away. A resounding smack echoes in your tiny apartment. Your ears ring as you right your head up again. Wanda forcibly grabs your face. “I'm sorry honey, but Mommy doesn’t like it when you flinch away from her.” Her tone is condescending as she keeps eye contact with you. A wicked look in her eyes.
“Now,” she turns back and forth between you and Jessica, “I understand this must be very confusing for the both of you so let me clear some things up.”
“You see, ever since I was little I have had this need. It’s a need to protect those lesser than me. It started off as protecting other kids from bullies, but as time went on and I became older, that wasn’t enough.” She sighs as she begins petting your hair, now completely ignoring Jessica as she cries behind her.
“People weren’t worth it, they were ungrateful and always expected more. Until I meet you.” She is speaking directly to you now. You squirm in confusion as you look up at her. What is she talking about? You meet this woman yesterday.
Wanda smiles a sad smile as she sees your uncertainty.
“You were just so helpless and innocent the day I saw you in that coffee shop.” Your eyes widen. What?
“I know you don’t remember baby, don’t worry though Mommy will explain it all later. But first,” the redhead turns around to the other girl
“Mommy needs to take out the trash.”
“For if there is one thing Mommy has never exapted its sluts touching what’s hers.”
You try to scream as Wanda raises the bat high in the air. Jessica goes pale as a ghost while she stares at you. Wanda brings the bat down onto Jessica's thighs. A sickening crunch can be heard as your roommate shrieks behind her gag and her eyes close tightly. Wanda, now happy that she can't run, releases Jessica from the chair letting her drop to the floor.
Wanda raised the bat again, this time bringing it down onto the girl's arms and side. More crunching can be heard.
You try your best to scream for help, but nothing but loud chocks and spit can be heard. You sob as you watch Wanda go ballistic on your only friend.
It's only when Wanda sees the tears you are shedding for this girl that she snaps. If you ask her exactly what she did, she won't be able to say, but anger so primal lights up within her that she can’t control herself any longer.
Wanda makes it her only task in life to break every single fucking bone in this whore’s body.
It's only when blood begins to scatter onto every surface known to mankind that Wanda takes a breather. After a few more swings of the bat, and a good number of choked sobs from Jessica, of course.
You try to tell what she is doing as she stands more fully and walks over to you.
Blood splatter adored your face.
“Oh, my pretty girl,” Wanda says as she wipes a tear away from your bruised cheek with her bloodied hand. “You are so beautiful, even more so when you cry. Come on baby, beg me, beg me to stop.”
You gurgled on your spit around the gag, desperately trying to form words. “Mmm” Wanda moans in a breathy tone, you look delectable when you are helpless.
She brings the bat down on the girl again. And again. And again. And again.
Bones breaking like sticks under her rath makes her feel even better, god she should have done this ages ago. Your pathetic sobs and hiccups in the background is the cherry on top. After a while the bat isn’t enough, she needs to feel her prey in her own two hands. Jessica is long dead, but that doesn’t matter. She wants to cut her to pieces. To trash her body, ruin it, ruin you.
As you try to loosen the rope digging into your wrists, the redhead takes an empty beer bottle from the table. Smashing it into the ground, pieces fly in all directions, you can feel something lodge into your leg. You grind your teeth against the rubber of the gag and sob even harder, but Wanda doesn’t notice. She's holding the broken bottle in her left hand now, while her right, holds up the smashed head of your roommate. Wanda kneels down, towering over the deceased body, she begins carving into Jessica's pale skin.
You want to hurl.
Wanda takes her time, carving a pretty picture into the once face of your friend, she makes sure to sit in such a way that you get a clear view of her doings. If it wasn’t for her instructions to Natasha, she could do this forever. Nonetheless, they will be here soon. Which means Wanda needs to wrap things up.
There is just one more thing.
When Wanda stands up you press yourself as far into your chair as you can. You don’t know who this woman is, but you now know what she can do. And you are petrified. The older woman moves slowly. Like she is trying not to spook a scared animal. You want to kick and scream, even as you sit there frozen, the fucking impudence of this woman. Looking at you like you are the crazy one while her body is covered in the flesh and fluids of your friend.
The stench of the scarlet liquid becomes even more pungent as Wanda leans over you to grab the kitchen knife that lies behind you on your counter. You want to slap yourself for not seeing it sooner. As she inches away from you, she stops halfway. Her knee makes contact with your crotch as she decides to slide against you while dragging the knife slowly down your chest.
Some things can't be helped. When you look at her like that, she has to. You look so perfectly scared, so submissive under her. As she trails the edge of the blade down your stomach, she debates whether or not to take a detour from her plan, but the time on the microwave in your kitchen quickly silences her mind. If she wanted to get you out before they get here, she needs to act quickly.
You let out a relieved sigh around the gag as she gets off of you.
She knows it's overkill, but even after getting you for herself the entire day, the image of the filthy girl's ungrateful hands around your waist has edged itself into Wanda's mind. She doesn’t want her sour feelings toward yesterday's garbage to taint her future with you. With a new vigor to her movement, the redhead paints the ceiling red as she brings the knife down a few rounds.
You sit there in complete silence as you watch Wanda's madness take its true, and hopefully, final form. Your eyebrows feel like they will hit your hairline as silent tears drop faster. Jessica's hands now detached, Wanda drops the knife and stands.
Even as she gets closer you don’t move an inch. Your eyes are stuck on the pile of blood and body parts. What has she done? Who is this woman? Why you? Why don’t you hate her for what she has done to Jessica?
Wanda pities you as she sees the questions that will never be answered swirl around in that small head of yours. She wants to let you be for a little, but no time like the present.
As sirens ring outside your apartment building and heavy boots run up the staircase Wanda cuts you loose. She takes action into her own hands as you seem to have gone inanimate. Gathering you up in her strong arms she makes sure to leave by the fire escape. It’s a bit tricky to get you both through your small bedroom window, but she manages.
She was expecting a fight as she blindfolds you and lays you in the back of her car, but you remain unresponsive. As she closes the door she can see a nasty gash with a piece of glass sticking out on your leg. She cringes a bit while driving home, she definitely overdid it. She vows to herself that she will make up for it after she settles you into your new home.  
Everything will be fine now honey, Mommy is bringing you home.
230 notes · View notes
bodyswapmischief · 5 months
Text
Andrew's Holiday Part 2 (An Interactive Story)
Part 1 Part 3
Andrew's mind raced as he lied next to Oscar, on the bed. He wondered why he felt so conflicted. He felt this strong duty pull on his heart. A duty to go home and to face his father. But, then another set of ideas would flood his mind. How, even at this moment, he wanted to be alone. He didn't want to disappoint people anymore. And, if he just stayed at school, he could be free. Free to spend his winter depressed, feeding that sadness that has been growing in him for months. His mind began to spiral. He felt his soul falling through the endless black void of his mind. His heart beating faster, his eyes holding back the forming tears. The deeper his consciousness fell down this path of thought, the more alarms triggered in his body. He was gonna crash and hard. He'd have a panic attack. His mind raced for a solution. But Andrew saw a light in the darkness.
Oscar. He could see an image through the dark void. He could hear Oscar's calming voice. He could feel the echoed warmth of his touch. Even without trying, Oscar was able to save Andrew from his own thoughts. Andrew opened his eyes and looked next to him. There, Oscar laid. His eyes closed, and his hand rested on his stomach. It has been minutes since he asked Andrew his question. But, there was no awkwardness in the silence. Oscar knew Andrew. He's been with him through many panic attacks. He knew Andrew could get lost in his mind. He knew how much Andrew hated his own brain. But Oscar didn't see Andrew as Andrew saw himself. Where Andrew saw himself as an overthinker who hindered his ability to accomplish his goals in life, Oscar saw a man who thought deeply before he acted. A man who was kind-hearted and full love. A man who has amazing potential to accomplish anything.
Andrew reached out to touch Oscar's hand. The electricity of the touch shooting through Andrew's racing mind. He could hear the voice in his head telling him to just say it. "I'll go with." He blurted out. His heart stopped. He saw Oscar open his eyes and smile. And with the smile, Andrew's consciousness was flung out of the void. The bright light of peace and love wrapped him up.
Oscar shot up. "Wait! What did you say." He smiled as he sat on the bed. His voice had a hint of teasing and curiosity. An urge to make sure he actually heard what he thought Andrew said. And a selfish need to hear Andrew say it again.
Andrew giggled and gave Oscar a playfully push on his shoulders. "I'll go home with you." He said, wiping the residual tears from his eyes. Oscar wrapped his arms around Andrew. "I promise we are gonna have fun. And, I'm glad you are not going to be anywhere near your dad." He gave Andrew a delicate kiss on the cheek. "So, how can I help you pack for tonight?"
"Tonight?" Andrew puzzled. "Yeah, I'm leaving back home tonight." Oscar smiled. "But ... I haven't packed anything and changing a plane ticket this late ... it's gonna be a hassle." Oscar shook his head with slight amusement. "Don't worry. Just focus on packing. I'll handle the plane ticket." Oscar's words put out the sparks of worry in Andrew. "I got this." Oscar said as he pulled away and got off the bed. "I got some other stuff of my own to take care of, so I'll be back in a bit." Oscar grabbed his stuff from the nightstand and walked out of the dorm, flashing one last smile at Andrew.
Andrew began to pack. He was able to sit with his decision alone. And, the more he sat with it, the better he felt with his decision. He didn't know a lot about Oscar's family, but he was already imagining all the cheesy romantic stuff he'd do with Oscar. The day dreaming ended when Oscar walked into the room. His face with a big smile as he handed Andrew the plane ticket.
Tumblr media
"I told you I'd take care of it. But, to he honest, getting it changed was a hassle. So, I just bought a new ticket." Oscar stretched at being proud of helping his boyfriend out. Andrew looked at the ticket and noticed it was for first class.
"Oscar! What did you do! You didn't need to get me a first-class ticket." Andrew worried. "It's okay! Now you can sit next to me!" Oscar smiled back. "Oscar, that's a lot of money..." Andrew began to say before Oscar cut in. "Trust me ... it's no problem." Oscar began to feel like maybe he did something wrong. Andrew was able to see this, and he sighed away his worry. His worries that Oscar would go to extremes to show his love even if it hurt himself. They were both college students ... he saw how they both struggled financially. But, he pushed those thoughts down. "No, don't feel bad. It's just me stressing out. But I love it! I've never been in first class!"
They spent the rest of their day packing. Then they drove to the airport. They boared the plane. Andrew felt impressed with Oscar. Away from the school environment, there was something regal about him. The way he interacted with the employees. The way he looked right at home in first class. While everything impressed Andrew, Oscar had the I've been here, and I've done that type of attitude. Getting off the plane, Oscar put his arm around Andrew. He gave him a kiss.
"Young Master Amari, welcome home." an older man says as he walked over to Oscar. Oscar smiles and greets the man. "What..." Andrew says, but his too shocked to finish. Oscar just pulls him, "Hurry, let's get out of the cold." He laughs as he leads Andrew to a magnificent black car. The type of car is made to carry someone important. During the car ride, Oscar and the older man would continue to talk. They would catch up, and Andrew would talk when prompted. But, worse were the moments of silence when the conversation would die down. What did he get himself into. Who the fuck was Oscar. They began to leave the city and enter the snow-covered woods. The road twisted and turned. Then Andrew looked in shock, as up ahead thier was a gate gaured by a security outpost and passed that laid a 3 story mansion glowing like a star in the darkness.
Tumblr media
80 notes · View notes
Text
It's back.
I played one song in Guitar Hero the other day, and it's back.
The itch. The twitching fingers, the restless half-contortions when I listen to guitar-heavy tracks. The part of my hindbrain that I permanently rewired with years of hardcore obsession. I can feel it again.
I'm an old addict, you see, addicted to the rush of being really fucking good at something, and I just got my first hit of this particular drug in years. I played Guitar Hero and Rock Band for years, striving for perfect runs and high scores, ever higher and higher. I was "five-star Through the Fire and Flames" good. I was "win free beers in a bar all night" good, "hold the rapt attention of the whole bar as they all sing along to the songs I'm playing" good. I wasn't the best in the world, but I was much closer to being the best than I was to being middle of the pack.
And the itch is back.
It begs to be expressed, to be realized, to bring my fingers to life across the plastic fretboard. I can hear the faint whispers in the back of my mind, echoes of the drive that consumed me in my twenties, the drive to be incredible. One more song, it whispered, just one more song, and four hours later, when I was sweaty and sated, it would whisper, that was great, but you can do better tomorrow.
I don't think I have it in me to become that champion again--well, more like I don't have the time to become him again. There's too much going on in my life, too many things I want to do, so this restless itch will remain just that. The relentless inferno that consumed me years ago will remain, at most, a solitary candle flame, to flare up on the occasions when I can get in a co-op song with my housemate here and there.
Is that tragic? I think it might be, but...I'm in a different place, now, with different goals and different experiences. Is it sad that I won't challenge that particular summit again? Yes...but I'm happy with what I accomplished, and how many people can truly say that?
30 notes · View notes
causticbicaudate · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I had a dream a few nights ago where I was investigating missing persons cases and uncovered a transhumanist cult headed by some douchecanoe I've unaffectionately named Elon Husk who wanted to evolve humankind past their lame meat mechs and transition them to synthetic bodies
Issue was, they found out that they couldn't transfer consciousnesses into AI. Next best thing was to use a brain. But in order for the mechs to work properly, they needed more than just the brain intact. The entire spinal cord needed to also be present
So they obviously needed a specialist to accomplish such a thing. Main issue there was that said specialist they hired originally as a consultant wasn't actually interested in going back to mutilate people so he had to be "convinced" to help them (which I’m assuming this was taking place post-PN2)
My main goal was to save a kid who was captured by this awful transhumanist group; I ended up failing my mission because Husk unveiled that the kid had been scraped and packed down into a robot body to a whole TV audience and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to find an exit, immediately found the operating suite, and then got caught by an extremely irate and aggressive Loboto who blindsided me and pinned me to his operating table with a threat to lobotomize me if I didn’t comply
Instead of sticking around to get my brain shoved into a metal body, I shook myself awake
But I was really struck by Loboto's extra terrifying appearance and his super messed up new chrome claw hand and it's been haunting me ever since tl;dr I had a spooky dream about a cult who thought human bodies were lame and also Loboto was there
580 notes · View notes
knight-king-ler69 · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Ticklish Abs 🍫
A devious thought that keeps popping into my head whenever I see this gif. Imagine your cute, deathly ticklish friend says they wanna tighten up their core for the summer. You volunteer to help and convince them to trust you to wrap them up completely making them of no help to themselves. They ask what the hell you’re doing. “Didn’t you say you want to tone you’re core?” You ask them. They’re even more confused when you peel away the wrap that covers only their tummy, leaving exactly their mid section exposed😌
Everywhere else on their body is warm but they can feel change of temperature on their vulnerable little tummy. You begin to warm them up, priming them by stroking your fingers over their freakishly sensitive belly and they immediately jerk as far back as their imaginations allows them to believe that they can go, as they are securely wrapped in place. With desperation in their eyes the begging and pleasing begins, all falling on deaf ears. A toned tummy you want, a toned tummy I shall deliver. And as if made into an art, you begin to dig deep into the depths of their soft, nerve riddled tummy. Digging, probing, kneading, and stimulating every possible strand of muscle fiber that laid dormant in their core. Their laughing is fever pitch, hysterics. Tears in their eyes they holler, scream and convulse.
But this is perfect, the method is working. They’re burning so many calories while engaging their core muscles like never before every time they laugh or scream or BEG from the depths of their lungs 😩
You keep them in this state for a month, feeding them on the proper diet, high protein, low carbs, lots of veggies and lemon water. Forcing them back into their restraints for four hours each day, two in the morning and two In the evening.
The mind melting tickling at the end of the first week would begin to be targeted. Focusing on even one ab at a time. “I forgot to ask, do you want a six or eight pack?” In their delirious state they made the mistake to answer “eight🥴”. Perfect 😌… Each of the eight desired ab muscles got two target hours of pure unrestrained muscle developing tickling. Destroy muscle fibers, filling them with blood then allowing it to heal wile another ab gets the very same treatment. ☺️☺️☺️
An entire month of conditioning passed and the abs began to pop perfectly and form so beautifully 😍✨ Just a few final touches to make her right as rain. LOOK AT THEM, I’m so proud 🥹🥹🥹 … and for all her suffering she looks soo happy doesn’t she???🥹
Tumblr media
Unfortunately, there was an unexpected side effect of this form of deep tissue muscle stimulation😳. Though the goal was accomplished and their abs were formed neatly and tightly, due the constant stimulation of the muscle fibers the tissue and nerves have somehow remembered and and retained the very sensation which brought them to be in the first place YIKES 😳!!!!
This means *GULPS* now that the abs have been formed, any use of them in core engagement, delivers the same overwhelming, torturous tickle sensation😭😭😭. If they breathe, cough, twist, sit up or even FLEX their hard earned abs it delivers such a ticklish jolt that they immediately cease movement 😭😭… They’ve been TRAPPED, tickled to get muscles, that will now tickle them on their own… forever.💋🫦☺️💕😘💦❤️👅
Tumblr media
122 notes · View notes
ravencincaide · 1 month
Text
A second chance at life 
Summary:  You were done with life, done with being trapped and abused. But it was just your luck that you’d try to take your life on the borders with Port Mafia territory. And that there’d be an executive who had opinions. OR the time you found out that not all Mafia are heartless bastards. 
Pairing: Suicidal reader  x Chuuya Nakahara 
Raven’s Special prompt: “Hi Raven, I'm the same anon that asked for the Chuuya x fem reader where she's abused and runs away, I forgot to add that reader is poc (brown skin).” 
Warnings: Dark content with triggers, proceed at your own risk!
This fic contains: suicidal reader (who’s making an attempt- jumping), hint abusive-manipulative past/family, Cursing & mature language, Chuuya comfort/help, I think I didn’t miss anything.. i hope. Hope this brings you comfort and that you enjoy~
Tumblr media
“ Oj don’ even think about it; I ain’t got any fucking wish to waste man-power on cleaning up civil splatter” 
You froze in your spot; your hands automatically re-grasped the safety bar of the rooftop,  keeping you upright and steady on the edge you were just about to leap off of. “ W-What?” you asked as you turned your head to the right, towards the stylish ginger haired man who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Instead of trying to talk you down from your suicide attempt however he just proceeded to light himself a cigarette. He took a deep drag of it before he pointed towards the ground below. “ The fucking ledge bottoms out onto Mafia territory. You jump- my men gotta clean that shit up” he answered in the most unbothered tone anyone could master as he took several steps towards you in warning. Something told you that even if you were to let go of the bar, he’d reach you quicker and pull you back to safety than you could accomplish your goal. Then he’d no doubt hound your ass for ignoring him.
You did not have the energy for all that drama. But you didn’t know what to say to him. You were so tired of life; of being a bother. A burden to everyone around you. Not good enough for anyone- in fact it was better if you weren’t around. But were you selfish enough to cause him more work? You glanced back at him; took notice of the dark rings below his eyes. The paleness of his skin made him look almost sickly. A powerful yet exhausted man. “ Sorry” you mumbled as you moved your body into a sitting position in defeated surrender. It seemed you were incapable of even dying right. Silence lingered for a while- you thought he had finished up his cigarette and left. Instead you heard him light another one somewhere above you.
“ So, why aren’t you trying again elsewhere? Packing your shit and getting away from whatever’s driven you up here?” You snapped your head up to face him but he wasn’t looking at you. His body leaned against the railing, his focus onto the city below. An unreadable expression on his face. 
You scoffed at him. “ Please, where the hell would I go? I’m penniless and unlike those pretty white chicks, I won’t get a job overnight. Even as an escort” you didn’t bother saying that your family held onto your payslips with no chance for you to gather even a little bit of savings. You were literally trapped under their control- a puppet to be pushed and pulled at their every beck and call. “ Ehh so you think it’s easier for ‘em?” He sounded doubtful yet curious. “ I know it is,” you answered somberly, “ It took me a year to get the job I have now- had to beg an old classmate for her to recommend me. Still I’m the lowest paid among all my other colleagues with the same title and less experience. And get reminded daily that if I don’t like it, I'm replaceable.” You sighed and rested your head back on top of your knees. “ ‘round here it’s hopeless and I got no money to go elsewhere” In your eyes, you were trapped with no reasonable way out. It left you with suicide as your only option. Your only hope. And even it was stripped away from you, leaving a dull numbness in your body. A defeated surrender to your fate. Silence lingered for a while longer as he finished his cigarette and lit himself another. Clearly not denying your words as if understanding both the said and unsaid implications behind them “ You willing to work hard?” he asked suddenly. You snapped your head up and fixed him with a determined look. “ Harder than anyone you know.” you promised in a heartbeat. You did not care to know what his offer entailed. After all, what did you have to lose? Your enthusiasm amused him. It prompted the man to stretch a gloved hand down towards you. You stared at it for a long while before you finally rested your fingers in it. The leather was cool to the touch, his grip strong as he pulled you up to your feet in a single tug. He shifted his hold and then shook your hand, as though you two had just reached a deal. A mutual agreement. 
“ Well kiddo I got an idea what the Port Mafia’s gonna do with you.” he smirked a boyish grin. An action that should have filled you with dread, but instead, you felt hope. A ray of light amidst the suffocating darkness “ Port Mafia?” you asked instead making him bark out a laugh. “ Damned right. From now on you’re Port Mafia property, and I, Chuuya Nakahara, am your boss”  
Tumblr media
Author note:  Sweden is placed in the top four for racial equality IN THE WORLD Still those with non Swedish sounding names get significantly less callbacks for job applications than those with Swedish sounding names. Of those called to interview, how many get rejected because of accent/way of pronouncing words, skin colour or religious expression is something we’ll never know. And the thought of what and how it is in the rest of the world just shows what a cruel, unequal and sad world we live in. Truly it is a heartbreaking reality we exist in. This fic tried to portray that while adding a tiny bit of hope that only Chuuya could gift.. Hope it served its purpose.
Liked this work and want to see more? Check out Raven's masterlist for more stuff to read! ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!
34 notes · View notes
bonefall · 7 months
Note
May I ask for some idioms and cliches in Clanmew?
"King's Ransom" = E'woo-en-oowe [Tax-o'-King]
A reference to the heavy cost of the First Battle, when Clear Sky stole away King Arc's prince. The original, and longer, phrase referred to the price of a King's right paw, but has been shortened over the generations.
The word for "king" is archaic, EXCEPT for this phrase. The same way we don't use "wreak" anymore unless you're wreaking havoc.
"Peace in three languages I beg of you" = Warl-en-myyao afehao yoayaa [3-quarters-of-words peace I-begging]
When the First Battle broke out, Bumble was caught in the middle of the chaos. Just a translator and totally unable to fight, she desperately tried to push out of the crowd while crying for peace in the three languages she knew.
The phrase is used in exasperation, it's similar to the English "For pete's sake, calm down."
"I have to do everything myself!!" = Arrl ul-arra grryrr wrah [Commanded one-whole-amount i-contain mine]
Another expression of exasperation. Implies you have to be everything at once.
"When in water, the rabbit swims; when on land, the frog hops." = WeeUrr'rr slof pbum weeShishi, WeeUrr'rr por roeg weePipi. [It-feel pool the rabbit it-will-treadwater, it-feel ground the frog it-will-hop]
In English, we say "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." In Spanish, you might say, "En donde fueres, haz lo que vieres." In Clanmew, this is the equivalent phrase.
It's about modifying your behavior to accomplish a goal, or to survive. If the rabbit did not swim, it would drown. If the frog did not hop, it would be caught. You would hear this phrase as wisdom from a Cleric to a Leader to adjust their methods, or from a mentor to an apprentice to mind the importance of learning many skills.
"The waves not in your mouth is the flesh of the river." = Wur'ree mawa lalm winyar, ssbass urrgryyr gawi wi [In mouth waves they-not, river he(clanmate)-owns flesh it.]
A phrase heavily associated with RiverClan; note how they treat the river as a living animal. It is an entity with a mind of its own to be respected, not controlled. They don't need to "own" the river as they own territory, the river simply gives itself to them as they need it.
And they can be sadistic as well, reminding the other cats of this. The river is THEIR ally, other Clans SHOULD fear the water just as much as the fear a boar even when they don't see its tusks.
They phrase river-related things very differently than their neighbors, as well.
Compare to the version that other Clans tend to use;
"The drops that aren't in your mouth is rain for the world." = "Wur'ree mawa pwiq winyar, arrkoor-en-papa wi."
And lastly, my absolute favorites, fox-phrases.
A vixen is wise, not for her smell, but because she contains many seasons." = Bwaayr usihu mwrrgrryrr kurr kifew mwrr mwrrgrryrr, kurr qim winyar. [Vixen wrinkle she(rogue)-contains because old she(rogue), because essence it(harmless)-not.]
Wisdom in Clanmew is the same word as "wrinkle," usihu. This isn't wrinkles as in the furrows on a human face, but the texture of an old animal's fur. The thick, coarse packing and duller shine, on skin that is losing its elasticity.
The phrase reminds you that a vixen isn't so dangerous just because she is a fox, she's dangerous because she's old and wise. In some contexts, it even tries to invoke that nothing is born malicious, and that advanced evil is taught.
But there's a follow-up that some cats are VERY fond of;
"Every single todd is a vixen's son!" = Arr'arra-ul ka'ak bwaayr-en-nia'u mwrr! [Every-all todd vixen's-child it!]
Todds are troublemakers. Not as dangerous as a vixen... but this is a reminder that all todds come from a vixen, somewhere.
In some contexts, a cat will use this to stress that there IS something inherently evil about some things. All todds come from vixens. Others use the phrase in the sense of bad parenting, sympathetically. A low-stakes troublemaker comes from a bad nest or a bad mentor.
The two phrases are very versatile and used often, for lots of different reasons.
Funfact it's also adapted from the Spanish idiom, "Más sabe el diablo por viejo que por diablo" which has fascinated me for months now. "The devil isn't wise because he's evil, he's wise because he's old." What a cool phrase!
85 notes · View notes