#((and there's an interesting conflict there.))

[notjustjavierpena]

Routine

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Hi everyone! I told you that I had a hubby-treat for you, and it is finally here. I’m very excited to share this one with you as it is something that I’ve gotten a ton of requests for. You love the simplicity of domestic life, so here’s the life of Los Peñas after you’ve begged to see what their routine looks like.  Like always: A huge thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being a patient, sweet and talented beta-reader.

Summary: A day in the life of Javier Peña and his growing family. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18, MDNI, hubby!javi’s POV and introspection, pregnant reader, pregnancy symptoms, family dynamics, domestic routines, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, siblings being siblings, married banter, heart-to-hearts, references to Reassess, family conflicts, casanova!javi turned oblivious!javi, javier with a baby needs a warning, handsy and  inappropriate!javi, mention of javier’s mother, baby scan talk, hubby being a DAD!, couch cuddles (with and without kids), sex toys (not explicitly a rose but something along the lines, and while I know we are in the 00s, let’s pretend that sucking toys and cordless toys were a thing for the sake of the story), f masturbation, pregnancy sex, consent king javi, teasing, light dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, light verbal humiliation, nipple play, nipple orgasm, overstim, intense sex, multiple orgasms, m masturbation, wife is an insatiable brat and a screamer, slight dacryphilia, piv sex, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, slight subdrop, lots of praises and aftercare, baths and hair washing,  

Word count: 17.2k (sorry)

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56355349

Routine

Javier’s alarm goes off at 6:30 AM each morning. He breathes deeply in through his nose as he is woken by the beeping sounds of his alarm clock, pulls his arm out from under the covers where it is wrapped around your waist, and moves it to the button on top of the device. He fumbles to find it for a moment, ending up smacking his hand into the plastic with a grunt. 

You stir beside him when he falls back down on his back. He rubs his eyes until he sees fireworks behind his lids, moving the hand down to smooth his thumb and forefinger along his mustache. 

“It’s 6:30,” he then tells you, reaching for your shoulder to shake you gently until you whine a no and cover your face with your arms. He smiles as your half-asleep state makes you no better than his only daughter, “Come on, mi amor (my love). Another day.”

“Thank God, it’s Friday,” you mumble, “One more wake-up routine and I might leave to start a new life as an actually interesting person, maybe a psychic woman.”

“Telling fortunes?” He muses with a goofy smile even if you cannot see him. He reaches to pull your arms away, “C’mon now.”

“Yes, maybe,” you give in and sit up, resting your folded hands on top of your pregnant belly, “The spirits are telling me that you are waking up the queen of this household. I’ll take Seb later.”

You are still on leave after giving birth to Sebastian but after Javier has started his new job, the both of you have discussed the idea of you being a stay-at-home mother for some time after the twins have been born too. You do most of your work on your computer anyway, and if you quit your job, there’ll be plenty of opportunities to do some freelance stuff for extra income. Javier isn’t over the moon about you playing the part of the cherry-pie-making housewife but you reason that you only get to experience the kids as kids once which he can’t argue with (especially not when he chose a different job for the exact same reason).

“You sure have a gift, all-seeing wife,” Javier nods in agreement and kisses your lips even as you say you have a terrible case of morning breath. Then, resting on his hands, he bends down to kiss your stomach too, “Anything else Mamá wants?”

“Can you make breakfast?” You blink prettily, “I’ll do school lunches and coffee.”

“Sure,” he leans over you and smirks when your noses bump together, “How do you want your eggs? Except fertilized, obviously.”

“Javi,” you scold but giggle and initiate a kiss anyway. He kisses you longingly because he hasn’t for eight long hours of sleep. When he pulls back, heat has risen to your cheek, “Just scrambled.”

“You got it,” he moves and gets out of the bed. It is 6:36 AM now and he calculates the time he’ll have to wake up Inés as well as make breakfast if he needs to get in the shower before leaving too. He doesn’t have to stress.

“And Javi?” You call from the bed. 

He turns around in the doorway to the master bathroom, “Yes?”

“Good morning,” you beam. 

“Good morning, baby,” he smiles.

He takes a quick moment to wash his face, leaving the door open so you can run back and forth to pee the million times that you need to each morning. He doesn’t say anything, just listens to you moving around as you brush your hair and put on soft sweatpants. He tries to imagine what you’ll be wearing when he sees you later because you always shower after sending him and the children out of the door. He hopes that you will wear your blue sundress now that it's warmer than ever. 

When he emerges from the bathroom to plan what he is going to wear for the day, you are already gone and he can hear the radio playing music in the kitchen. He revises his material for today’s lecture about criminal behavior as he takes a white shirt off its hanger and reaches for a pair of dress pants, but he can barely concentrate when he cannot wait to see you downstairs.

Finishing up his little routine, he walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway upstairs. He knocks once on Lucas’ door before peeking into the room, “Let’s go, muchacho (young man).”

Lucas passes him a moment later, fully dressed and with his school bag over his shoulder. He looks so grown that Javier wants to topple over, “Morning, mijo (my son).” 

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m up,” he smiles. 

Javier raises a brow, “I can see that. Thanks for making my life easier. I’ll go wake up la monita (the little monkey) then.” 

He continues to Inés’ room. She has not woken up yet, deep asleep with the covers half on the floor. She is lying on her stomach with her arms above her head, her mouth agape as she snores gently, her hair an unruly mess, and her pajama top askew on her back. 

He crouches down by her bed and runs a hand over her back, speaking softly as he wakes her up with the intention of not accidentally startling her, “Inés, mi niña (my girl), it’s time to wake up.”

It takes a whole minute for her to escape the land of the sleeping and release the clutch on her pillow. She furrows her brow, yawns animatedly, and rubs her eyes with her tiny fists in the same way he does every day. 

“There she is,” he smiles, “It’s almost seven, we gotta get up for school.” 

“I don’t wanna,” she complains with a pout and earns a gentle hand running over her hair. She buries her face further into the pillow and looks like she’s already about to turn to her weapon consisting of crocodile tears. 

“I don’t want to either but Mom is already packing your lunch. Don’t you want to see Ava and Jacob?” He helps her sit up, trying to distract her from her tantrum. 

“Ava says her mom is sad,” Inés shakes her head but the accidental opportunity to talk about her troubles makes Javier able to undress her without much fuss. He gives her a sympathetic look. Mira, Ava’s mother, is still divorcing her husband Jonathan, and it is the first time that Inés has been confronted with the idea that not all parents stay together. He nods in understanding, “But Ava says that her mom is the one who didn’t want to be with her daddy anymore.”

“Sometimes you can be sad even if it’s a choice you make yourself,” Javier explains as he gets her out of bed, kneeling in front of her on the floor to help her into her underwear and bottoms. He pulls them up over her hips, “Maybe she thought it was nicer to leave so she could not make him sad again.” 

Inés listens to his explanation but just as she is about to nod, she frowns and shakes her head instead, “That’s stupid. Mommy says that you stay and talk about things when you are sad.” 

Javier pauses with the blouse you chose for her yesterday in his hands, trying to find the correct way to explain why adults act the way they do to his daughter. It’s so early in the morning and she had barely been awake two minutes ago. He takes a deep breath before speaking, "Well sometimes grown-ups have disagreements or feelings that are hard to understand, and when those feelings become too strong, they might decide that it's best to be apart instead of being sad together."

Inés furrows her brow even more but raises her arms up in the air to let him pull the blouse over her head, “Is Ava sad too?" 

Javier pulls her arms out of the sleeves and brushes her hair out of her concerned and skeptical face, "Ava might be feeling sad right now too but she has her friends, you for example, and her family to cheer her up, just like you have me and Mamá.”

Inés falls into him and hugs him, giggling as he picks her up and purposely turns her the wrong way around in his arms until she tells him off with a squeal. She throws her arms around his neck when she finally sits on his hip and kisses his cheek, "I'm glad I have you, Papá. I love you!" 

Javier vows that he won’t cry from emotion so early in the morning. He is worse than you sometimes when it comes to these things, chest constricting as tears well up in his throat, “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, mi amor (my love). Let’s go get breakfast before we do your hair. How do you want it?”

“Pigtails,” she decides loudly as they leave the room. 

Downstairs, Lucas has chosen cereal for himself and is reading the comic he got last month at the dining table. Inés says hello to him from her seat on Javier’s hip, and he waves back at her until she giggles and hides her face against her father’s shoulder. 

Javier carries her to you as you cut carrot and cucumber slices for her lunchbox. You turn to them. 

“Morning, Mamá!” She chirps happily and you give her a kiss. 

“Hi, baby,” you reply and notice the faint traces of tears in the corner of Javier’s eyes. You raise your brows, “Did you give your dad any trouble?” 

“We had a little chat about Mira and Jonathan,” he explains quickly and stuffs a carrot in Inés’ mouth before walking to plop her down on a dining chair. Inés chews and immediately gets enchanted by her older brother, looking at the pictures of Spiderman on the pages in front of them while asking him to explain. 

“Are you okay?” You put a hand on his arm, rubbing affectionately all the way up to the back of his neck. He reaches to put his hand on top of yours and smiles reassuringly.

“Just got a love declaration of the ages,” he explains before letting go. He moves to open the fridge and calculates the amount of eggs he’ll need. 

“Ahh, sentiment,” you say with a knowing smile. Without a word, you get a pan out for him and place it on the stove, working with him in a symbiotic manner that he grows more and more fond of with each passing morning you spend together as a family. 

He cracks the eggs out into a bowl to make sure there are no shells and then starts scrambling them whilst you click the button on the coffee machine. Soon, the delicious smell of fresh coffee and breakfast fills up the room and you open a window to let the sound of chirping birds join the music on the radio. 

“Eat up, we’re leaving in 45 minutes,” he places the plate in front of Inés and kisses her hair. She takes the fork you bring a second after and stabs the eggs with determination. 

She chatters excitedly about the plans for her day between bites of eggs and looks outraged when Lucas occasionally steals a piece from her plate. He makes a peace offering by moving his chair closer to hers so he can hold the comic in front of them both. 

Javier goes to pour coffee into his favorite mug whilst you have tea and you eat the rest of the scrambled eggs directly from the pan together with him. He admires you whilst you rest against the kitchen table, having a conversation with your kids whilst nourishing your twin babies. 

As the comfortable morning routine proceeds, he catches your eyes from across the room and you smile so tenderly each time. Rays of sunlight are coming in from the window, dancing over the fabric of your comfortable clothes and making your already glowing skin glow even brighter as you hold the mug of tea in both hands. He knows how lucky he is to have this life with you after the chaotic years of his youth. Who knew that life could start when one thought it was over?

He recalls the very first time he laid eyes on you and how he knew he wanted to marry you by the end of the night (you still don’t believe this). He remembers thinking that he didn’t deserve a life with you and all the love you brought with you, remembers how you said that the only thing that mattered was whether he wanted it or not. He has never once wavered from this want since you allowed him to kiss you for the first time. 

Lost in thought, he almost doesn’t realize that you have started to move around the kitchen to clear the table and stuff the lunchboxes into each respective school bag. He takes a brief moment more to longingly gaze after you. 

You are so graceful in your fourth pregnancy even if you deny it each time he compliments you, your stomach a bump so round and plenty visible already. The both of you are nearly four months into what has been the biggest shock of your lives. All the time, he thinks back to how difficult it was to conceive the first two of his kids and feels a tug in his chest of endless gratitude for being a father. 

He could never describe the flood of pride that had erupted in his heart when he went from being a father of three to suddenly being a father of almost five in a matter of a single second you spent together in an ob-gyn's office on a regular Tuesday morning. He remembers seeing your overwhelmed and tear-stained face when you had thrown yourself back into the examination chair with simultaneous happiness and panic flashing in your eyes. The babble of words was barely comprehensible but they made him kiss your eyelids until you gave him a smile. 

He had called you his very best girl when the doctor had left to give you both a moment of privacy, held your trembling hand, and told you that he would be right there with you every step of the way, which seemed to calm you instantly. He is grateful that he has that effect on you just as you have the very same effect on him. He knows he can never feel what it’s like to bear children but he knows that every fiber of his body tells him that he will never allow you to be scared if he can help it.

These days, he won’t even allow you to be exhausted either which is why he picks up Inés from her seat again and carries her upstairs to the bathroom. When pregnant, you always pack the car with Lucas instead of walking around with your preschooler on your hip. 

“Right,” he hooks a foot around the leg of the stool underneath the sink and drags it out so Inés can stand on it. She grabs the edge of the sink and makes a face in the mirror now that she’s tall enough to admire herself, “Pigtails, wasn’t it?”

Inés nods eagerly when Javier gets out the box of hair ties from underneath the cabinet next to the sink, “I want the Minnie Mouse bows.”

“Excellent choice,” Javier praises as he reaches for her hairbrush too. He combs her hair, starting at the bottom and gradually going upwards just like you have taught him the second that he became a father to a little girl. You had even made a hair boot camp, sitting on the couch and nursing Inés whilst he practiced a few different hairstyles that you would rate on a scale of one to ten. 

He parts Inés’ hair down the middle and starts with the right pigtail, gathering all the hair in his hand with the help of the brush. His daughter grimaces at the slight tug but then her face lights up as she remembers something.

“Daddy! Mommy says I have to do my daily affirmations before school!” She beams at him in the mirror, excited because complimenting herself clearly makes her feel good. Javier cannot believe how fantastic of a mother you are because it would have never even occurred to him that this was the simplest way of teaching his children to be kind to themselves. 

“Alright, let’s hear them, mija (my daughter),” he says and finishes the second pigtail. He takes a step back, holding his daughter’s head in place like you have taught him to make sure the hairstyle is symmetrical. Satisfied, he looks at the digital clock on top of the cabinet. He figures they can spare the two minutes it takes. 

Inés looks herself in the eye when he has let go of her again. She straightens her back like she has seen cartoon characters do, admiring her reflection, and starts reciting with a big smile on her little face. 

“I am smart.”

Yes, she is. Sometimes too smart for her own good. Javier smiles. There’s a pause. 

“I am brave.”

The bravest.

“I have good ideas—“ she halts, turning around to look at him with a frown as if it wouldn’t have the same effect if she had simply sent him the look through the bathroom mirror, “Daddy, you have to say it too.”

She watches him expectantly and he cannot bear to let her down even if he feels slightly embarrassed to talk so highly about himself out loud. He takes a deep breath, a weird feeling in his chest as he meets his own gaze, “I am smart. I am brave. I have good ideas.”

“Good, Daddy!” Inés radiates joy and sports a big toothy grin. She says another one, “I can say no.”

Javier doesn’t catch on to the fact that he has to keep going. Inés turns around to him again with her hands in her sides, “Now you say it, Daddy!”

“Inés…” He chuckles and feels slightly apprehensive. Vulnerability isn’t something he is insecure about but the act of openly saying such nice sentiments to himself hits a nerve somewhere in his chest, imitating a feeling of performance anxiety that he only recognizes from the times he has gone to an exam. 

“Mommy says it makes us feel good inside,” Inés doesn’t let it go, dragging out the minute that he has put aside for this. He knows there’s no way around this and he knows that you would tell him to lead by example. He pretends to cough in an attempt to hide his hesitation, knowing that his confidence and self-love will only fuel his children’s. What more could he want as a father?

“I can say no,” he tells his reflection.

“I can do hard things,” Inés continues. Javier repeats it.

“I am a good friend,” she proudly voices and he hugs her from behind to parrot each word, tightening his arms around her more and more until eventually, he tickles her when she has said her last sentence, “I am loved. There’s no one I would rather be than myself.”

She squeals with delight and slight panic, laughing in his arms in the loud and free manner that only a child can. He gets filled up with warmth and baby fever, trying his hardest to compose himself since they have to leave soon even if he just wants to keep going. 

“Time to brush your teeth and pee before we leave, monita (little monkey),” he tells her and she follows through without any protest. 

When he has told her to help you finish packing her bag, he gets his clothes from the bedroom and gets in for a quick shower. He washes his hair and body, scrubbing his beard with his fingers while revising his material one last time. 

At last, he stands in front of the mirror, putting on his watch, buckling his belt, and fixing the collar of his crisp white shirt. He finishes with his cologne, shaking his sleeve upward on his arm after brushing his teeth to check the time. 7:37 AM.

“Do you have everything?” You ask when everyone is back in the kitchen again.

“I hate leaving you alone all day,” Javier mumbles as you hand over his bag along with Inés’ school bag. Despite Javier’s hands being full, you still place your palms on his chest and kiss him on the mouth.

“Then stop getting me pregnant,” you whisper against his mouth. 

“But it’s just so fun,” he notes and kisses you a few times more when you try to pull away, “They should stop making it so fun. You should stop making me feel so good.”

“Dad,” Lucas interrupts you with a grimace, “We’re gonna be late.”

“Alright, out the door, all of you,” you scratch Javier’s chest briefly before walking out of the room to the front door. You hold it open and watch the three of them scuttling out of the house. Javier wants to count the hours before he gets to see you again.

“And remember, Daddy’s picking you up after school today!” You yell from the door and he turns to walk backwards to the car with a grin on his face. He hears Inés cheer at this fact and secretly, he wants to cheer himself because he never gets to do it. You have an appointment with your ob-gyn doctor later to check if everything is alright with the babies, something they have insisted on since they found out there were two. He’ll have to leave work early but it’ll give him more time with his children in the afternoon. 

He checks each of their seat belts to make sure they’re secure, hesitating for just a second as he gets ready to close the car door, “Hands inside the car, c’mon.”

Inés throws her palms up and he pushes the car door shut with a smile before walking around the front, tapping the hood with his knuckles and waving at you one last time. You smile widely and mouth that you love him. You close the door, and he only starts the car when he sees you in the kitchen window. 

—

The car ride to school is fairly short but it consists of Javier listening to a lot of happy chatter about nothing from Inés in the way only a four-year-old can do. In the ten minutes it takes, he manages to answer questions about why the sky is blue, why there’s no such thing as dragons in Texas, if there are twin ladybugs just like there are twins in your tummy, and if she can try driving the car later. 

Lucas only joins in when she asks whether they can get a dog. He grabs at the back of his father’s seat and lifts himself as far forward as the seat belt will allow only to get told to sit back down. 

“A dog is a big responsibility, you know,” Javier swings the car into a parking spot. He looks back over the seat after turning off the engine, “Mommy and I have you and Seb to take care of, and the twins eventually too.”

“Nunca vamos a tener un perro (we’re never gonna get a dog),” Lucas grumbles and throws himself back into the seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out the window. 

“Never?” Inés’ eyes widen.

“Oye, eso no es lo que dije (hey, that’s not what I said),” Javier replies, pocketing the car keys, “I’m just saying that we’ll have our hands full soon.”

“That’s not my fault and I didn’t even want more siblings,” Lucas says under his breath and Inés squirms in her seat at the tension in the tiny space. 

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want you saying things like that,” Javier says firmly. 

Lucas huffs. For once, Inés is quiet. 

“Look at me,” Javier tells him and his son reluctantly finds his gaze again, “We don’t talk about each other like that and we especially don’t make each other feel unwanted.”

There’s a painful mixture of shame, vulnerability, and frustration on the eight-year-old’s face, “I know, Dad, I’m sorry… it’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m the one who has to always give up what I want.”

Javier knows the irony of his previous statement as soon as he hears those words. Accompanied by the look he receives from his son, it’s enough to make him swallow thickly, “I’m sorry, mijo (my son). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

There’s a pause. Lucas starts to open the door, “It’s okay. I know that you’re right and a dog won’t be happy if we don’t have time for it. That’s what Mom says anyway.”

He gets out and Inés finally pipes up when they’re alone. She frowns and looks out the window to watch Lucas stand with his hands clutching the straps of his bag, “Can’t we just have a little dog?”

“I have to talk to Mom about it,” he sighs, “Let’s get through this day first.”

The two of them finally get out of the car to join Lucas. Javier locks the car. He starts to lean down over his son, wants to press an affectionate kiss to his hair that’s so much like his own it hurts, but Lucas shakes him off. 

“Dad,” the eight-year-old bites at him, his tone full of embarrassment. He suppresses a scowl even if it’s only a half-hearted one and instead looks around to see if anyone saw him. 

Javier straightens again, trying to pretend the slight rejection didn’t sting too much. Lucas is turning nine soon but he hadn’t guessed that he’d be so much of a preteen already. He has no clue if he is doing okay with him but he vows to get a smile out of him before they part for the day. 

“I’ll talk to Mom about it,” Javier eventually promises. It’s not untrue.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Lucas replies with a fake smile and looks away. 

“Lucas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,” he drops Inés’ bag and thinks fuck it. He crouches down to hold both his arms, rubbing them soothingly, and feels relief at not being rejected again, “I know you really want a dog but you gotta cut your Mom and me some slack here, okay? We’ve never had three kiddos at the same time. Just like you’ve never had two siblings before.”

“Four,” his son mutters. 

“It’ll be okay,” he tells him with a smile. He is steadfast as he continues, “And I mean it, I will talk to Mom but her verdict is final. She’s the pregnant one.”

“Okay,” Lucas says with uncertainty.

“Okaaay,” he parrots to him in a silly voice with a gentle squeeze. 

“Okay,” Lucas says with a little laugh. 

“Okay,” Inés chimes in with excitement. 

Lucas laughs genuinely this time and Javier feels his heart leap. He picks up the bag from the ground and stands once more, only to bend down and kiss his son’s hair, “School waits. Inés and I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Dad, bye, Inés,” he nods, “I love you.”

“I love you too!!!” Inés yells loudly and Javier takes her hand with the one not carrying her bag. 

“Love you, mijo (my son).”

—

The next stop is Inés’ classroom. She runs a few meters in front of him the whole way there but because of her little legs, he never gets too far behind her. He feels so relieved that she’s always this excited for school but with the way that you tell him that she’s so much like him, he also knows that it’s just a matter of time before she grows tired of school during her teen years. Teen years. He shouldn’t think about that already since the thought of her growing is unbearable. 

“Inés, slow down,” he says despite not needing to, wanting a bit of control, “I don’t want you falling and scraping your knees, mi amor (my love).”

When she doesn’t immediately follow orders, he holds out his hand for her to take, “Inés.”

She turns her head toward him as she runs down the hall, so close to her goal which is her classroom, and tumbles into a woman coming out of the room. Javier puts a hand on his head in shock, dropping his daughter’s bag and walking straight to them whilst apologizing profusely. 

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a sweet smile in his direction and then in Inés’ direction. She’s tall and blonde, wearing a coat in this boiling weather which must mean she’s not used to Texas, “We’re both alright, aren’t we?”

“Sorry,” Inés says genuinely. 

“Well, aren’t you well-behaved?” She is grinning now. 

“Daddy, can I go inside and play with Ava?” Inés looks longingly towards the door. 

He goes to pick up her bag, “Sí (yes), but take your backpack and I’ll talk to the nice lady.”

Inés does as she is told, standing perfectly still whilst he helps the bag onto her shoulders. He kisses the top of her head, “Ves a jugar (Go and play). I’ll pick you up later today.”

“They’re great at that age,” the woman says with a dreamy smile after Inés bounds into the classroom, “I dropped mine off a moment ago.”

“They in the same class?” He asks. 

“As of last week. Oh, and it’s Emily, actually, not ‘nice lady’,” the stranger reveals, holding out her hand for a shake, “And you’re Javier, right?”

“That’s right,” he shakes her hand. Great, even she knows who he is and he prepares himself for the usual speech about him being known all over Laredo, doing everything in his power to not make his mouth a straight line. 

However, she nods towards the door and surprises him by saying nothing of the sort. Instead, she makes it about herself which shouldn’t be nice but it is, “Inés’ father? My daughter has mentioned her a few times. We’re new here, moved from Upstate New York. Work. You know.”

“That explains the coat,” he says with a little smirk. 

She reacts by putting her hand on her cheek and then her forehead, feeling a blush that’s not there. He is too oblivious to know that she’s fishing for a compliment on her appearance, “That obvious, huh? I probably look like a red crab. I’m boiling.”

“You look fine,” he reassures, “But hit up the AC in your car or at least take that thing off. Survival mode, you know, do it for the kids.”

Emily giggles. He smiles. 

“We should arrange a playdate sometime. My daughter could use some friends. I think we both could. We could get some coffee if you know a place,” she suggests in an attempt at a flirtation but even if it’s so glaringly obvious, he just doesn’t pick up on it. 

Instead, his mind circles back to you in the kitchen he built for you, “I’m busy most days but I’m sure my wife would be thrilled to set something up. Inés can’t just be playing with our friends’ daughter all the time.”

“Oh,” there’s a slight change in Emily’s demeanor after that. Her smile falters ever so slightly, and there's a fleeting look of disappointment in her eyes but he can't quite pinpoint the cause of her sudden change in mood. He brushes it off, "Well, I should probably let you get back to your day. I suppose your name and number are on the class’ contact list?” 

He tries to keep up the upbeat tone of their conversation but she just smiles awkwardly, "Yes. Of course, Javier. I'll look forward to it."

As he turns to leave, he catches a glimpse of Emily's expression, and he can't shake the feeling that something is amiss. He furrows his brow, wondering all the way to the car what he did wrong and doesn’t know that if you had been there, you would have been laughing your ass off the second Emily had left.

He brushes it off the second the radio comes on in the car and heads to work afterward. The day feels easy; he gets to come home, gets to watch his kids grow up in front of his eyes and in the evening he will make love to his beautiful wife. Such a fact makes days at work pass like seconds, and he smiles all the way from his car when the bell rings for his first lesson.

—

Around two in the afternoon on the same day, Javier enters his house with his kids following right behind him. He comes home to you feeding Sebastian mashed avocado in his high chair, and in the meantime cutely imitating his babbling about nothing right back at the little green monster that used to be his son. He walks up to you after putting his bag down on a dining chair. 

“Hey,” you say with avocado on your forehead. 

Javier reaches up to rub it off, sucking it off his finger before pecking your lips, “Hola, mi amor (hello, my love). How’s your day been? Scan go okay?”

He kisses Sebastian’s head too before turning his attention to you. You’re scraping the last bits of avocado onto the baby spoon before feeding it to your son.

“I’ll tell you about the scan later. I need to talk to you about it… but Seb and I have had such a good day, ain’t that right, baby?” You tickle Sebastian’s cheeks, not caring about being covered in green too. Sebastian giggles and clenches his fist around some of the avocado he has had in his hand for a while. Javier decides not to press any further since you don’t look worried, especially not as you watch Sebastian slam his fist into the plate in front of him afterward, “We tried sweet potatoes today, didn’t we? Y probamos fresas del mercado, pasta con un poco de queso (And we tried strawberries from the market, pasta with a bit of cheese)."

Javier grins at your excitement, watching you reach for a piece of paper towel to wipe off all the excess food from your child now that he has been allowed to eat more independently with just a bit of help, "Mi hijo es un foodie, ¿eh? (my son is a foodie, huh?)"

Lucas pops his head in through the kitchen door with Inés loyally following right behind, “Mom, did you say strawberries?”

You walk to the kitchen table and grab the cardboard basket of strawberries, holding it out for your eldest son. You shake it a little, “They’re really good.”

He takes one and hands it to Inés before he grabs one for himself afterward. He smiles contentedly after biting into it, happily chewing the sweet berry and looking down at his sister to see her reaction as well, “Good?”

You offer Javier a strawberry too. He eats a whole one, doesn’t even bother to pick off the green part, and earns a little crinkle of your nose. He winks at your reaction and the expression of disapproval turns into a smile that sets his heart into overdrive. 

Inés lights up after finishing the berry, “Can I have one more?”

“Consider it your afternoon snack,” you say. You pull out a chair around the dining table, placing the basket of strawberries on the table, “Do you want a PB&J sandwich too?” 

“Yes!” She runs across the room to crawl onto the seat, waiting patiently with her hands flat on the table until she cannot resist nearly smothering herself with another strawberry. 

“Do you want one too, Luke?” You ask. 

“Yes, please. Thank you, Mom,” he says politely and goes to sit down too. He taps a rhythm on the table that Inés fails at replicating. From his high chair, Sebastian joins in by slamming his palms into the table and the luckily empty baby platter. 

“Javi, can you take Seb for his nap?” You ask while reaching for the jar of peanut butter in the cupboard. You cannot find it, frowning at the realization that you must have placed it somewhere else. Javier hears you mutter to yourself about your damn pregnancy brain. 

He walks up behind you, a hand on the small of your back as he leans over you. You freeze but then relax into his touch. He reaches into the far back of the cupboard, feeling for the jar, and fetches it, “You told me to hide it, baby. You eat too much of it with just the lid off and a spoon.”

“I should stop denying the babies it if that’s what they want,” you giggle to hide your embarrassment at having forgotten and pat your pregnant belly. You look so pretty in your dress, the one he had hoped that you would wear; blue as the sky above with tiny yellow bees flying around on it. 

He hands you the jar of peanut butter and cannot help but admire the gentle curve of your stomach, that certain glow making you radiant in the mundane setting of his kitchen. He can never help ogling you when you care for his children and it’s even worse when you carry them as well. 

“You look so gorgeous right now, mi vida (my life),” he rubs the small of your back and slides his palm around you to your belly, breathing against your ear as he talks. You turn your head just a little to smile playfully at him and thank him in a soft whisper. 

Javier looks back to see his kids chatting with each other, so he presses into you a little more.

“I got a bed with your name on it later,” he continues quietly as he still stands right behind you, letting his hand drop to your hip. You shove a little at him but it’s nowhere near enough to actually mean that you want him to stop. He lets his warm breath ghost over the soft shell of your ear until you let out a sigh that you only reserve for him. He continues until he can look at your neck and see your pulse throbbing under your skin, “I could just eat you up. Take you to our bedroom, lock the door… throw you on the bed, and take your clothes off with my teeth.”

“Pórtate bien (Behave),” you scold him with a bit more mischief than what he assumes is intended, “I have sandwiches to make and we’ll be sorry later if Seb misses his nap.”

He adds a finishing touch to his attempt at a flirtation by shielding you from his kids’ line of sight. The broad hand that has been resting on your hip slips further down. and Javier allows himself a grope to your backside. He jiggles the fleshiest part of it and you finally have enough, turning around quickly with a look of mock outrage. 

“Thin ice, baby, thin ice,” you chide but he simply pecks you on the lips and turns towards his children again. 

“Vamos, pequeño (let’s go, little one),” he says to Sebastian as he approaches him, lifting him out of his high chair and placing him on his hip. He feels your disapproving eyes as he walks out of the kitchen but just smirks to himself, heading for the stairs to go to the nursery.

In the room, he places Sebastian on the changing table and checks his diaper. He also removes as much clothing as possible, making sure he won’t overheat in the bassinet. His son grins up at him, not seeming tired at first but then starts blinking slowly as the nap ritual proceeds. 

“Oh, you are tired, mijo (my son),” he whispers softly as he cradles him towards his chest afterward. He feels Sebastian resting his chubby cheek against his shoulder, breathing slowly as he starts falling asleep from being bounced in his father’s arms.

Javier hums, savoring the moment that he knows is fleeting with his son. He is reminded of needing to ask you about the doctor’s appointment again, excitement in his body as he thinks about two sets of tiny feet running across his living room floor at the same time. As a child, he never really understood why he couldn’t get a sibling but his understanding of what was happening to his mother only came a little later until he stopped asking altogether. He loves that his house is so full now. 

When Sebastian is fully asleep, he lays him down on his back on the tiny mattress that belonged to Inés before. He runs his palm over the fine hairs on his head for a few moments, just staring down at his baby to commit it to memory. He tucks the blanket around him, turns on the baby monitor, grabs the other, and flicks off the lights. 

When he returns to the kitchen ten minutes later, he finds you sitting by the dining table with a sandwich of your own. Lucas holds a pencil in his hand, your grocery list lying in front of him and his empty plate has been pushed away. 

“I hate broccoli,” Inés says from her own seat, nose scrunched up. The jelly part of her sandwich seems more around her mouth than in her belly. She tries to look over at what her older brother is writing but he is hesitant in his spelling of the word. 

“I hate it because I can’t spell it,” Lucas grumbles with concentration on his face, “B-R-O…”

“C-C-O-L-I,” Javier finishes, announcing his presence to them. You look up at him as he stops between Lucas’ and your chair, setting down the baby monitor on the table. 

“Hey, he’s supposed to learn how to spell it by himself,” you tut gently but without any anger or annoyance. Javier kisses your jelly-tasting lips. You tap the list, “Lettuce.”

Lucas groans in complaint, “Mooom, all these words are hard.”

Inés giggles from her seat, “Lucas is bad at spelling!”

Lucas furrows his brow, looking to you for saving, “No, I’m not!”

You send your daughter a look, knowing you have the right thing to say to bring some justice into the world, “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Inés Peña. You have to practice your counting skills with Daddy.”

Javier snorts at the look of disgust on his daughter’s face. She comically throws herself back into her chair, arms crossed over her chest. He kisses her hair, “No angry faces, Princesa (princess). You’ll have plenty of time to play afterward.”

“Maybe I am bad at spelling,” Lucas says in defeat, heaving a big sigh. 

“You’re doing great, sweetie. It’s all about practice,” you reassure and reach out to rub the back of his neck affectionately, “And I really appreciate you helping me with the grocery list. It’s a big job.”

“How about an easier word?” Javier suggests, silently eyeing your sandwich as he speaks, “Like tomatoes.”

Lucas smiles down at the paper, brightening at the praise you offer as consolation for his struggles. He writes down the newly suggested word with newfound confidence, “T-O-M-A-T-O-E-S.”

“Perfect,” you continue your praise. 

Finally, Javier pulls out a chair to sit down with his family. He chooses the seat next to you but opposite Inés to keep her in line if she decides to have a tantrum. However, she just watches her brother scribble down word after word. 

“What about ice cream?” She asks suddenly with her best pleading expression. She is more hesitant than usual, knowing full well that she overstepped the rules a moment ago. 

“If Lucas can spell it,” you challenge with a sweet smile, raising a brow at your son. 

Inés grabs at the edge of the dining table, moving to stand on her knees instead of sitting. She leans over the table to get a closer look, “You can do it, Lucas!”

“Challenge accepted,” he says with a grin, nearly breaking the tip of the pencil in his eagerness, especially now that his sister is cheering for him, “I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M.”

Both of them look to you expectantly, awaiting your verdict that’ll make or break the oncoming weekend. You nod, “That’s indeed how you spell ice cream.”

The both of them cheer. You laugh along with them, and Javier feels his knees go weak even as he sits down. He leans back in his seat with his shoulders completely relaxed, briefly recalling a time when his body being this calm was only a possibility when alcohol was in his bloodstream. 

“What’s next on the list, muchacho (young man)?” He asks as the laughter dies down once again, casually reaching out for half of your sandwich. He earns a look of mock outrage from you, your hand reaching out to swat his arm. 

“Get your own, Peña,” you scold playfully. He pulls away quickly and bites down into the corner. You roll your eyes, “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he says around a mouthful of food. 

“Mom, what’s ‘insatiable’ mean?” Inés asks curiously. 

You look at him with a smirk as you reply, “It means Daddy always wants more.” 

“More what? More food?” Inés furrows her brow in confusion. 

“Something like that,” Javier says with his heart beating loudly in his chest at the mere thought of you. He leans closer to you, lowering his voice just enough, “And more of Mommy, too.”

“And I think that’s it for snack time!” You announce quickly after, heat in your cheeks as you push yourself to stand. Javier is pleased with himself as you walk around in a flustered state, “Lucas, do you have any homework?”

“I finished math homework in school,” he announces proudly, “Is the grocery list finished?” 

“Can you add chicken too? Then I think we’re done,” you walk back to the table to gather the plates, not letting Javier put down his sandwich again. He feels triumphant at having caused you to feel like this, a sucker for watching your warm face. 

“C-H-I-K—“ Lucas spells out loud. 

“C-K,” you correct as you put the dirty plates into the dishwasher. 

“Oh,” he turns the pencil around and erases his mistake, “C-H-I-C-K-E-N.”

“There you go, baby, good job,” you praise.

Lucas beams.

—

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. Lucas goes to his room to play on his Game Boy, its faint beeps echoing through the house from the open door, Inés, after getting her face thoroughly wiped down, falls asleep on the couch after refusing an afternoon nap, and you and Javier begin the usual ritual of preparing for dinner while Sebastian sleeps undisturbed in his bed. 

“You wanted to talk to me about the scan today?” Javier starts a conversation as he chops vegetables alongside you, your hip occasionally bumping into his as you mix a dressing. 

“Yeah, and before you start to worry; yes, the babies are fine,” you reply and absentmindedly run your palm across your belly. 

“But?” Javier puts the knife down to look at you. 

“But nothing. I just wanted to tell you that they know what we’re having and they want us to discuss if we wanna know,” you smile excitedly. You mirror him by putting down the spoon and stepping closer to let him embrace you. 

“They can tell already?” He asks as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing up and down soothingly. He pecks your lips, heart feeling too big for his chest. 

You nod and lean into another kiss, “And they said everything looks great too. Nothing to worry about, and the due date is so far down the road that we can’t wonder about the delivery yet.” 

“Alright, yes. Okay,” he nods in return, an overwhelmed smile on his lips. He releases a small sigh, “But do we want to know? We’ve tried both but I think it’s up to you.” 

“I mean,” you think out loud while Javier takes the opportunity to rub your stomach, “I like surprises but with the stress the delivery will probably bring, it might be nice to know. Just to appreciate it more than when I’m a mess. I don’t know.”

“Well, I guess we don’t have to decide now. We have five or so months, have a think,” he reassures you and presses a soft kiss to your neck. He can feel and hear you draw in a deep breath. 

You are interrupted by Sebastian’s soft noises through the baby monitor, tiny sounds of complaint indicating that he is just about to cry. Javier releases you from his grasp, “You get him and I’ll finish up here. Dinner in twenty, don’t you think?”

“Sure, baby,” you say with a final peck to his lips. You leave the kitchen, ascending the stairs with a little noise, and when Javier glances out into the entry hall, he sees you walk upstairs with a hand on the small of your back. Sebastian has started to cry but you reassure him all the way through the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”

Javier finishes up dinner. He faintly hears you tell Lucas to go set the table, and when your son starts taking plates out of the drawer, Inés enters the kitchen while rubbing her eyes, awakened by the noise. 

“Hola, mi niña cansada (hello, my tired girl),” Javier says as she leans into his side. He turns the pan on the hob so that the handle doesn’t stick out from over the edge, then runs his hand over his daughter’s hair. 

“No estoy cansada, papá (I’m not tired, Daddy),” she protests while fighting a yawn. 

“¿Entonces tienes hambre (Are you hungry then)?” He asks with a hidden, amused smile. 

“Sí (yes),” she wraps her arms around his waist. 

"Si tienes hambre, ayuda a tu hermano a poner la mesa (If you’re hungry, help your brother with setting the table),” he runs his hand over her back, caressing her gently while stirring the chicken and vegetables. 

“Okay, papá,” she says, her stomach probably growling since she’s not protesting hard labor. 

Lucas has finished carrying plates, glasses, and cutlery to the dining table. He pulls out a chair for Inés to stand on, directing her thoroughly on where everything goes until you enter the kitchen again with Sebastian on your hip. 

“It looks so good!” You praise with a big grin, genuinely proud to see both of your eldest kids cooperating so well, “And the cutlery on the right sides!” 

Javier turns back to have a look, holding a hand up to give them both a high five. You send him a smile only reserved for him, walking to put Sebastian into his high chair afterward. You go to the living room to find a few toys he can play with until dinner is ready. 

“Can I watch Nanalan after dinner?” Inés asks during dinner, mouth full of food. 

“If you practice your counting first,” you compromise. 

Without hesitation, Inés starts saying numbers out loud, “One, two, three, four, five, six…”

“Inés,” you say, a crease on your forehead.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Peña,” Javier teases, “But I think you walked right into that one.”

“Shush, you,” you tut and, out of spite, listen closely after any errors in your daughter’s count. 

After dinner, you take on the job of clearing the table and filling up the dishwasher. Lucas gets a free pass from helping so he can go pop the Nanalan VHS tape into the TV, setting it up for you all to enjoy in just a moment. 

Sebastian plays with a few toy cars as he sits in his high chair. He coos softly, making noises to match the tiny red vehicle. 

Inés, still full of energy, practices counting backward with Javier while you wash up the pan in the sink. He can see you listening to them even with your back turned, knows that you are smiling without looking at your face. 

“C’mon, baby. What comes after six?” He asks, having pulled her chair out to stand in front of her. 

“Seven!” She answers confidently and it is technically not wrong.

He smiles with amusement, “We’re counting backward. Down from ten. Try again. Teeeen…”

“Ten… nine… eight…” she says loudly. 

Javier waits patiently. He holds up the number of fingers equal to the numbers she is saying. She furrows her brows in concentration and continues, “Seven… six… five…”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he encourages. 

Inés grips the seat of her chair in excitement, “Three!”

“Are you sure?” He stops her briefly. 

She looks up at him, hesitating for a moment and seeking reassurance, “Four.”

He nods, “You got this.”

She smiles brightly, “Three! Two! One!”

“Bien hecho, Princesa (well done, princess)!” He praises loudly and leans down over her to kiss the top of her head repeatedly, “Eres mi chica lista (you’re my clever girl).”

She stretches up her arms to which he responds by lifting her up from the chair with a groan. She is getting so big, he thinks as he places her on his hip, or maybe he is just getting old. He gets an idea, even if it’ll hurt the muscles in his back, “You know, baby, counting backward is very important. That’s what they do when they launch rockets into space. Try again, see what happens.”

Inés’ eyes light up as she starts counting again. She rushes through it, seeming to do well when something unknown comes afterward. When she gets to one, Javier lifts her high into the air and spins in the kitchen. 

“Liftoff!” He announces, moving around in figure eights to imitate her flying and she squeals with laughter. The sound is one of those that bubble up in her chest, completely unrestrained and pure in its entirety, and Javier’s heart goes into overdrive when he knows that he is the one causing it. There’s nothing that can hurt him in these moments, nothing that can bring him down from the pride he takes in making his kids feel safe and happy. 

“Oh no!” He continues his part, “Inés Peña, well-renowned astronaut, is attacked by aliens from el planeta rojo (the red planet)!”

“¡Papá, no (Daddy, no)!” She giggles and wiggles in his arms as he buries his nose in her cheek, “¡No permitas que me atrapen los alienígenas (Don’t let the aliens catch me)!” 

“Too late!” He tells her before pretending to sink his teeth into her round cheek. He growls like only an alien attacker would and his daughter shrieks with laughter. 

He stops to let her breathe, her little form shaking as she tries to regain her composure. She throws her arms around his neck, looking over at you in secret and lowering her voice to a whisper that’s way too loud. 

“Do it to Mommy!” She demands. 

You perk up at hearing your nickname and turn around with your hands covered in dish soap and water. You watch, like a deer in the headlights, as Javier places Inés down on her feet. He smirks like a devil and you step backwards but only bump into the kitchen counter. Your wet arms come up to screen your face as he approaches you, looking devilish with his arms out in front of him. He makes grabby hands in the air. 

“You are not doing that to me!” You squeak. He leans into you, and the look behind your arms tells him that you know it is a fight that you have already lost. Still, you try to sidestep him but he just cages you with a quick sweep of his arms. 

“I got you now. No hay manera de escapar, mi amor (there is no escaping, my love),” he moves your arms away without caring about getting wet himself and pulls you into a tight embrace. He bites into your cheek a mere moment later, growling like a dog whilst Inés laughs so loudly that your look says that you might let him give you five more children if he wants. The nibbles turn into several silly kisses, eventually turning into a long, deep kiss too. God, he is going to make love to you tonight.

Behind the two of you, Inés makes a noise of disgust, “Ew! Mushy Daddy!” 

Javier pulls away from you and wipes his hands in his shirt. He ruffles Inés’ hair, “Well, you better run to your brother if you don’t want to see Mommy get another big kiss from Daddy.”

Inés dashes off towards the living room with uncontrollable giggles. Once she’s out of sight, Javier turns to see you drying your hands in a kitchen towel. He seeks you out and you meet his embrace by throwing your arms around his neck. 

“Do you think I missed my calling as an alien invader?” He asks with his lips resting against your ear as you hug.

He can feel you shaking your head, “No, husband, I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“Mhm, wife,” he pulls back to kiss you again, and again and again and again. 

“They’re waiting in the living room,” you stop him, a hand on his chest to reluctantly push him away, “I’ll take Seb.” 

The five of you watch a few episodes together in a pile on the couch. Sebastian sits in your lap while Inés cuddles up into Javier’s side. Lucas mutes his video game but chooses it over the children’s show, repeatedly pressing buttons and trying not to make too loud noises when he wins or loses. 

It ends with the usual bedtime routines an hour later. Teeth are brushed, all three children have no complaints during bathtime, bedtime stories are told and forehead kisses are given even if Inés is already out cold. Javier loves this the most, at least when it goes smoothly.

Eventually, the evening leaves your pile on the couch to only consist of the two of you. 

“We put Inés to bed thirty minutes ago and we’re still watching Nanalan,” you note from your side of the couch, looking at Javier out of the corner of your eye and snickering before you reach the end of your sentence. 

Javier tears his eyes from the screen, his body slumped into the corner of the couch and with the blanket draped over his body. He hides a smile, knowing he has the upper hand in this situation, “Well, get the remote then.”

You have your legs pulled up with them crossed underneath you. You grimace and pat your stomach, “Never gonna happen with this belly.”

He cracks a smile, tone serious in a joking manner which he knows always gets you, “Well then you sit there and keep quiet. I’m missing my show. I haven’t seen if Mona learns a lesson yet.” 

With that, he fixes his gaze on the TV again. You throw your head back to laugh at his silliness and accidentally snort. You squirm and he knows you’re trying your best not to pee a little from the giggling. You cover your mouth but Javier’s head still whips around to stare at you again, looking like he should be a cartoon character with hearts in their eyes.

He starts moving, crawls further toward you, and drags the blanket with him to cover both of your bodies. You shove at him, “Get the remote, Peña.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” He scoffs, cuddling up next to you, halfway lying down and crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not switching channels here. I like Nana. She’s wise.”

“She your favorite?” You smirk down at him, teasing him still. 

“No, you’re my favorite, mi amor (my love),” he wiggles his brows, staring up at you with every intention of making you laugh, “Stop asking stupid questions.”

“Smooth,” you smile with a shake of your head. You purse your lips and he groans dramatically when he moves up to kiss you, pecking your mouth gently. You reach to ruffle his hair until it is untidy.

“You know, baby, my hair takes all night to style,” he sighs and starts to flatten the stray locks again, “You could be a little more considerate.”

“I’m pregnant,” you argue, “You try being considerate.”

“You’ve been pregnant for nearly two years straight,” his eyes wander back to Nana and Mona.

“And whose fault is that?” You start to watch too. 

“Shut up.”

“I rest my case.”

The both of you watch Nanalan for a while. With a foot, Javier pulls the coffee table closer for you so you can stretch your legs and rest your feet on it. You seem less invested in whether Mona will learn how to take care of the baby bird in Nana’s garden than he is but it doesn’t matter because during the episode, your positions shift and suddenly you are resting against him instead. He feels like a teenager each time this happens, heart racing at having a pretty girl in close proximity, but unlike 16-year-old Javier Peña, he has already gotten the girl and is therefore without clammy hands.

He drapes his arm around your back until his hand rests on your waist, pulling your pregnant body against himself until you automatically lean your head on his shoulder. In the end, you doze off, having gotten into a habit of falling asleep in front of the television. 

When the credits roll over the screen, he nudges you, “Let’s get you to bed.”

You whine so adorably and scoot further into his side, “I don’t want to go all the way upstairs.”

“If you don’t get up, I’ll do it again,” he says, intending to confuse you. 

You pull back to look at him with furrowed brows, “Do what?”

Javier pokes the tip of his nose into your cheek and then imitates a series of bites to your face just like earlier. He makes the noise of a dinosaur this time, growling close to your ear and making you squeal from the tickling sensation it gives. 

“No!” You shriek, “I’ll get up! I swear!”

“Are you sure?” Javier doesn’t stop, only nuzzles further into you and bites the flesh of your cheek for real this time. His whole body fills up with butterflies as you laugh at his torment. 

When eventually showing you mercy, he throws the blanket to the side and pushes himself to stand up. You put your feet on the floor and take his hands when he holds them out for you. He hauls you to your feet. 

After a quick shared shower, you moisturize your belly in the bedroom and pick out your sleepwear whilst he dresses in a new pair of briefs. It is a quiet and relaxing ritual where none of you speak a word, moving around each other in synchronous harmony. 

It’s when you go to pee and change that he notices the little device on the nightstand, plugged in to charge, and he furrows his brow in confusion. The door is closed to the bathroom and he can hear the sound of your toothbrushing, so you won’t be barging in on him as he satisfies his curiosity. 

With quick fingers, he pulls the cord out of the bottom and holds it closer to his face to examine the little pink thing. He hasn’t seen one of these before; staring down into the hole at the top and trying to make sense of what will happen when he presses the button. 

The little thing whirs to life when he does and he can see the way the tip pulses erratically, sparking his interest and triggering the instinct to hold it against the palm of his hand. His brows nearly rise into his hair as he feels the way the vibrator suckles on his skin, so he taps his hand a few times to feel it let go and attach again. It’s when he realizes what it’s meant to do for you that he feels his cock move in his briefs. It happens again when he knows it means that you have used it today whilst being home alone. 

He presses the button on the side again and feels the vibrations become more intense and he nearly throws the cute thing across the room when he tries to turn it off by pressing the button again and the buzzing only gets louder and louder and more and more intense. 

“You two need a moment alone?” You ask from the doorway to the bathroom, smirking as he sheepishly finds your gaze. You have changed into a pair of way too tiny sleep shorts and one of his gray t-shirts, and it looks so naturally stunning on you that he nearly drops the toy. Why is he hard? Christ, he is possibly aching. He wants to throw you on the bed and pull those tiny shorts off and—

“Did you two already have a moment alone?” He asks when he has regained his composure. 

“Maybe, and maybe it was pretty great,” you tease and make your way to him. When you stand in front of him on your side of the bed, your eyes wander downward until you stare at the bulge on the front of his briefs. Your tone is triumphant and sing-songy, “You’re hard.”

“You’re wearing my t-shirt,” he notes as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world. His gaze drops to the way the soft cotton fabric drapes over your tits, leaving just enough up to the imagination but clearly showing off the way your nipples have hardened at the conversation. He twirls the little sucking toy in his hands, wants to make you come with it attached to your nipple until he can see heat rising in your cheeks and then he’ll let the device do its job between your legs. 

“Horndog,” you roll your eyes affectionately, “I can’t even wear clothes? I thought it would be not wearing any clothes that would get you.”

“Can I try this on you?” He decides to be straightforward and just asks while holding the vibrator up between the two of you, “You can guide me.”

“Now?” You raise a brow. 

“Yes, now,” he huffs out a dark, little laugh and takes a step further toward you as if he is a predator caging his pretty prey. You don’t seem affected by it but your nipples might soon poke holes in your shirt, “I mean, I’m a little curious here, so if you’re up for it. I was gonna try to get laid anyway…”

“Charming,” you let yourself fall down into bed, sitting on the edge. Javier places the toy on the nightstand to grab underneath your knees, lifting your legs to help you scoot back onto the mattress. 

“Is that a yes?” He awaits your green light. 

“Yes. Don’t go overboard with it though. It’s pretty intense,” you reply and hook your fingers into the waistband of your shorts. You start to shimmy out of them and he helps you completely out of them when they sit around your knees. Then he bends your legs and spreads them apart. 

“Tell me what to do,” he goes to grab the toy again, kneels between your legs, and awaits orders. He clicks the button and the little thing comes alive once again. You’re just about to reply when he cannot help but ask, “Does it work on your tits?”

“I thought you wanted me to guide you,” you retort but in response to his question, you reach for the hem of your t-shirt and start to pull it up over your pregnant body. He stops you when it sits just above your tits, coming closer to you by spreading his thighs until you drape your own thighs over them. 

“Shut it… and listen to this. It’s pretty loud,” he notes as he feels the little sucker on his palm again, tapping the heel of his hand with it. 

“It’s quieter when it’s in place,” you say with heat in your cheeks, anticipation evident on your face, “So don’t worry about switching up the intensity when I get close.” 

“Ah… but no going overboard,” he nods, grinning down at you. Sure. He drags out the testing on his palm to get you worked up even more, knowing it will only increase the pulse in your whole body until you might cuss him out when he actually goes to work on you. He loves your body when it is pregnant and sensitive, and while he would never let anyone in on what the two of you do behind closed doors, there’s a part of him that wants to brag to Steve about how you cream yourself from getting your breasts played with whenever you have a baby - this time babies - in your belly or your body is raging with postpartum hormones. Oh, he thinks to himself, what a privilege it is to get to see you like he will in just a moment. 

“Javi,” you complain beneath him. 

“Yeah yeah, chica impaciente (impatient girl),” he tuts and finally places the toy against the skin of your cleavage. You suck in a breath, reacting already more intensely than he thought you would. He supposes that it’s due to knowing how it’s going to feel, and he elicits a little moan from you as he drags the head of the toy across your chest. 

“Don’t tease me,” you grumble, squeezing your thighs around his waist. When he looks down between your legs, he can see the way it makes your cunt clench too. You’re trying to stimulate yourself untouched. 

“Christ, you’re a dirty little girl for this thing. What magic does it do for you?” He raises his brows and inches the toy closer to your right breast. He dances around the swell and you bite your lower lip.

“You don’t understand,” you say breathlessly.

“Humor me,” he demands. 

“It feels… like when your teeth nip at my skin,” you explain with eyes that are already glazed over with desire, “It feels like when your mouth is just about to get where I wa— Fuck.”

Javier has covered your right nipple with the toy and between your legs, a damp spot has marked the white sheets. He moves the head of the little sucker around your gorgeous, perky nipple and your moan only increases in volume. 

“Shh, los niños están dormidos (the children are asleep),” he whispers above you, removing the toy to lean down over you and get closer to your face, “Keep your little mouth shut or I’ll need to stop.”

You look desperately at him, shake your head, and whimper at the threat. He pecks your lips with a pleased smirk before you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It gets even harder for you when he descends on you, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip down onto your played-with nipple in an obscene manner. 

“Waterproof, I’m guessing?” He awaits your answer. 

“Mhm,” you nod and then writhe as he covers the peak of your breast again. You let your hand push down into the mattress, making a noise in the back of your throat as he presses the button to turn up the intensity. You fight between throwing your head back and keeping your eyes fixed on what he is doing to you. 

“Eyes on me,” he decides for you. 

“Baby,” you whine and follow through, thighs tightening around his waist as you stare at him. You start thrusting against nothing, lifting your pelvis to squeeze your pussy in time with the still somewhat slow pulses to your chest. 

Javier straightens fully again and your gaze follows obediently. He lifts his left hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers past his lips to wet them with his spit, and then he finds your other nipple. He rubs in soft circles for just a moment before he pinches it between the two digits, tugging at it slightly until he sees slick drip from your aching slit. He cannot help the soft noise he lets out as he watches the drip of your come hit the bed. He is so hard it hurts from just thinking about being inside of you as you continue flexing your pelvis like that.

How the fuck are you going to come from just this? Has he really spent so much time in bed with you that this is something he can force out of you? He is struck by fascination at your trembling body, letting you breathe, even if it’s just barely, by swirling the toy around your nipple. 

“More,” you pant in frustration, swallowing down a frustrated moan to not piss him off, “Turn it up.”

“Hey, that’s not how we ask for things in this family. What’s the magic word?” He teases, finger hovering over the button. He pinches your nipple with the fingers on his other hand, forcing a cry past your lips. You don’t even get to the please. 

Instead, your hand flies to your mouth but you manage to calm your noises again, sliding your fingers into your hair instead. Javier decides then to press the button twice before putting it back on you, watching those fingers yank at your own follicles. You nod and your hips are practically gyrating by now. 

“Javi, fu— fuck,” you gasp out, “I—“

“I know, baby. I can see it on you,” he says, making a noise low in his throat at the way your head falls back into the mattress. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your bottom lip getting caught between your teeth again as you teeter on the edge of your first orgasm. He cannot believe your clit is still untouched because when he dares look down, it peeks out from underneath its hood as if he’s been giving it attention. 

“I’m gonna come,” you announce with a strained voice, still very aware of your noise levels. Quickly, you reach down to cover your mouth with the whole of your palm and then, with furrowed brows, you’re off into ecstasy. It hits you like a shot of adrenaline, your body going rigid before writhing on the sheets. The hand on your mouth turns your moans into desperate whines that stir Javier’s desire even more. His heart races at the sight, his eyes watching hungrily as you come undone the first time of many. 

“Jesus Christ, Mamá,” he removes his hands and turns off the toy when you go from enjoying the tingling of pleasure to shaking at the oversensitivity of your breasts. 

The hand falls from your satisfied smile to lay beside your head. You giggle as excitement is flowing through your veins, “Gimme a second and you can go again.”

“Is it better than me?” He smiles at your cute laughter and wiggles his brow.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Not even close but it’s nice if you’re not available.”

“You know… I would come home during my break if you needed me,” he leaves the toy next to you so he can crawl over you and dip down for a long kiss. 

“I’m sure you would,” you nod at his words, slipping your tongue past his lips. 

He holds himself up with a forearm above you so he can use his free hand to push your shirt further up and over your head. You stretch your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely, only breaking the kiss for the moment it takes. 

“I’m ready for one more,” you say after a few minutes of just making out with him, arms slung around his neck in a desperate embrace and lips kissing him until they’re swollen. When he sits up on his knees again, he notices the way that his mustache has scratched you slightly and makes a mental note to trim it sometime tomorrow. 

You look so radiant when you’re in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, and while he gets his pillow to place it underneath your hips, he admires the beauty of you underneath him like this. You have your hair tousled, your eyes are half-lidded, barely open from the way remnants of pleasure still hasn’t been washed away from them, and your velvety skin glistens with a sheen of sweat that’ll make you shiver if he doesn’t heat you up again. Javier wants to lick it off, wants to eat you up until he has devoured you. You’re beyond softer and sexier than any other time he gets to witness you. 

“Javi,” you murmur softly when he’s too slow. 

“What, mi amor (my love)?” He pretends not to hear your demanding voice hidden beneath your tired one. 

“I wanna do it again,” you have a playful glint in your eye. 

“Again?” He teases but his cock pulses, heavy between his legs at the knowledge that he will see you come undone once more in just a moment. He chooses the word moment because the little sucker knows what it is doing and if you respond so well to getting your nipples played with, a part of him is afraid that it’ll be over the second it touches your clit. 

“Javi,” you drag out his name in further frustration. 

Javier rubs your thigh soothingly, “You’re obsessed with this thing. How long have you had it?” 

“Uhh, not long,” you reply, visibly clenching at just hearing the toy start buzzing again. You scoot further towards him, presenting your pussy for him.

“So directly? Or?” He reaches down between your legs, the toy hovering over your mound for a moment before he decides to let it suckle on the skin of your inner thigh where he has just touched you. You breathe deeply in through your nose, wanting to look down at what he is doing but your pregnant belly is already shielding it from view. 

“Yes but the lowest setting,” you instruct. Your hand dips down between your thighs to spread your lips, giving him access to your hard clit, “I’m still sensitive.”

“And wet, ¡Dios mío (my God)!” He marvels with suppressed excitement and moves the toy inwards, trailing its tip until it sits right by your hand. You sigh at the attention, dripping even more from your slit in anticipation. 

Your hips hitch up when he finally covers your clit with the hole of the toy, a quiet moan slipping from your mouth as it falls open. Your face goes slack in contrast to the tension in your pelvis, your body subconsciously moving around to seek the most sensation. 

He guides it steadily up and down, barely rocking it but still moving it enough to create just a bit of a tug on your swollen nub. He sees you lose yourself in it and stares down at you while cupping the bulge on the front of his briefs to relieve some of the desperate pain. He moans low in his throat, “Mi chica bonita (my beautiful girl).”

You respond with a little louder noise, an orgasm already creeping up on you. He shushes you gently, “No noise, baby. Try breathing through your nose or I’ll have to cover your mouth.” 

You clamp your mouth shut and make a muffled sound.

“Look at that pussy flutter for me,” he looks between your legs then smiles up at you, pleased with what he is doing to you. He turns up the power on the toy. Your head falls back against the bed. He sees your brows knit together and then he knows, “Come on, baby, that’s it.”

Your orgasm hits you like a lightning bolt. Javier watches with his hand gripping firmly around the outline of his cock and the toy held firmly against your core. You do a fantastic job of making as little noise as possible but the desire to make a racket is there beneath the surface, especially when your high peaks and there’s a moment where you hold your breath just before shivering with the pleasure in your cunt. 

He gives you another break but you shake your head. He looks curiously down at you, uncertain if you mean it, “No? Again?”

“Make it hurt, please, Javi,” you beg and he thinks he might come untouched from those words. It’s so rare to have you like this when the house is still full. He doesn’t doubt whether it is a good idea though, just turns up the heat and sends you hurtling towards another orgasm. 

You gasp towards the ceiling and slam your legs closed while you grab at the sheets. You look like you are possessed, eyes rolling back into your skull as you come a third time. It must be painful because you are whimpering like a wounded animal, nearly ripping the fabric underneath you and begging silently by only mouthing the words in a worse manner than he has ever experienced as a father of three - soon five - children. 

“Keep going,” you demand almost angrily, concentration on your face as he presses the button to the next level of pulses. 

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You’re about to levitate into the air, aren’t you?”

“I’m gonna come,” you inform him breathlessly.

“Already?” Javier’s brows are nearly in his hair. He is stroking himself on top of his underwear now, itching to feel something when you are lying in a pool of tears, sweat, and your come. Seeing you like this, he has no idea how he is ever going to get anything practical done this weekend; he’ll be doing you every chance he gets until you can’t walk. So hard that he’ll have an excuse to stay home with you on Monday just so he can spear you on his aching cock over and over. Even if you scream, even if you drool, and even if you sob.

When your fourth orgasm of the night starts to gain up on you, he observes the way your legs start to twitch. He holds the toy steady, pushing it against your clit as you nearly go cross-eyed with pleasure. His eyes are wide, the concentration lost for just a second too long when your legs start shaking as you near your end. The toy slips just half an inch, losing its grip on your clit and the accident turns you feral. You reach for his hand, yanking the toy out of his palm, and settle it back into place. 

And then you come. So hard that he has no idea what to say or do, watching a steady trickle of pearly white mess gush out of you as your pussy jumps along with your heartbeat. You try so desperately to keep quiet but the sensation seems to be so intense that you might draw blood from your lip if you don’t get to cry. 

“One loud one, no, no, look at me. One,” he tells you calmly, knowing you are probably seeing spots, “Let me hear.”

You don’t hesitate, face scrunched up in ecstasy while you let out a wreaking sob that’s so close to you screaming that he almost (but not really) regrets allowing you to be noisy. You pant, kick, and scream, tears running down your face as you are lost to the world, leaving him with nothing to do but stare hungrily as he thanks the heavens that you have found a toy that makes you look so happy and beautiful. He’d be its lead promoter if someone wanted him to. 

When it becomes too much, you don’t even turn off the thing. You simply just let it fall from your hands and slump into the bed, your thighs sticky with sweat and slick against Javier’s own. He listens for the sound of tiny footsteps down the hallway for a moment but there’s nothing, not even a squeak from the baby monitor.

“Get inside of me,” you half-beg, half-order with barely any breath in your chest. Javier doesn’t hesitate to step off the bed, slipping his briefs off, and stepping out of them when they pool around his feet. Your eyes watch, huge and wet, filled with desperation for being stretched out after only having your clit played with. He will never dream of denying you when you look like that. You nearly hiccup, “Please.”

“Shh, you’ll get it, mi vida (my life), you’ll get whatever you want,” he soothes softly but then continues the rough streak. He curls his hands around the back of your knees and yanks you off the pillow towards the edge of the bed, sliding your body through the mess you have created. 

You are like a siren with the eyes you are sending him, making his cock stand in the air and at level with your empty cunt. He grabs at the base of his length, guiding the thick head through your folds for a few seconds to slick himself up. However, the need to be inside of you, to pound into you, is too much and he pushes into you not long after. 

The feeling of filling you up has Javier’s heart pounding against his ribs, endorphins running through his system as his mind quiets down completely when he has you like this. Your warm and familiar walls engulf his touch-starved cock and the both of you breathe shakily in relief as you melt together. You even manage a mix between a breathless laugh and a quiet moan, a sound that makes him twitch inside of you as he regains his composure. When he starts fucking you, dragging you by your legs down onto his cock over and over again, he realizes that he doesn’t even need to be careful, your walls so wet and soft from how much you’ve been touched. 

He repeatedly snaps his hips forward to cause an obscene smacking noise that bounces off the walls. You nod frantically at the way he moves inside of you, nose scrunching up with concentration on the sensation of his dick slamming into your front wall. Yet it seems as if you’ve become nearly impossible to please from coming so many times; your hands are placed on top of his, frustration evident on your face, “Harder.” 

“Nena (baby girl),” he pants whilst fucking you, “I’m already going hard.”

“I need it harder,” you whine, writhing slightly, “Please.”

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” He asks playfully and earns a glare that you only seem to perfect when you are pregnant and not getting your way. He smooths his palms up and down your sweaty thighs, thrusts coming to a complete halt, “Crawl back.”

He pulls out his cock with a grunt, letting you gaze hungrily at it when you’ve seen it glistening with your wetness. He is the one getting impatient now, snapping his fingers to keep up the part he is playing for you, his role as the man in charge even if it’s hardly true, “Go on then. Back.”

You move with shaky limbs, your body exhausted from its continuous stimulus. You end up lying flat on your back with your legs wide open for him, holding out your arms with a tiny dissatisfied complaint of a whimper, “Javi.”

Javier finally kneels on the bed and moves forward until he is hovering above you. He grabs the still buzzing toy on the bed and reaches for your hand. He places the toy in your palm and closes your fingers around it, knowing what he wants, “I just need you to promise me that you’ll choke my dick when I fuck you with this joining the fun.”

You nod repeatedly and that’s good enough for him to go crazy for you, even wreck the bed if that’s what you want to do. Thank God that there’s no school tomorrow because you’d be hobbling around with how sore he is going to make - and has already made - you. He leans down and cages you underneath him, buries his face in your neck as he bottoms out inside you in one hard thrust. His pelvis touches yours, his chest, your sensitive tits, his body unable to get close enough.

When he rocks his hips this time, he starts really putting his back into it. You slide your free hand up his bicep to cling to his shoulder, saving yourself from being pushed across the mattress with how forcefully he drives his cock into your heat.

He breathes hard as he exhausts his body to give you what you need, knowing that you can take it even if it aches. He can feel drops of sweat slide down the length of his spine, gathering at the small of his back as he switches to harsh rolls of his hips. 

The switch gives you room. He doesn’t have to actively listen for the muffling of the sucking toy’s buzz to know that you have started to hold it against your clit because your whole cunt jumps at the attention. 

You press your mouth into his bare shoulder to muffle your screams, bravely taking on another round of obscene pleasure as his lower belly burns with the desire to come. 

His head swims with the overtaxing use of his muscles, the strain on his thighs that has started to ache from how much he wants to make your head spin. He feels a tear fall from your eye and drop down on his skin, your whimpering voice trying to encourage him not to stop the torture of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as the sensations are becoming increasingly more intense. He turns his head to breathe heavily against your ear, breathing damp against the shell of it when he tries to speak while his lungs empty as small puffs of air. He wants to tell you how good it feels, and concentrates on whispering filthy things in your ear, “That’s it, you can— oh God, you can take it, baby.”

You sound like you’re trying to overcome your own body, fluctuating between whines and groans. He goes on, “No wonder you’re always carrying my babies. You take it so fucking well each time, amor (love). Made for it. Made for getting knocked up.”

You lock your legs around his ankles, clinging to him as he crashes into you repeatedly. He hears you desperately move the sucking toy back and forth, hears the intensity being turned up to a higher level than he has even dared. You sound pornographic even in your quietness - like one of those videos where they don’t want to get caught but just cannot keep all noise at bay - as you get fucked by him whilst it sends you through the gates of pleasure heaven simultaneously. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

“And if you weren’t made for it, I’d be sure to mold that little pussy into shape,” he growls quietly. You start to have that dazed look in your eye, have a grip around his cock that tells him exactly what is going to happen, “Oh, baby. You gonna come on my cock, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you squeak. 

“Yeah?” He mocks. 

Javier enters the final sprint, fucking you open in a frantic rush that almost borders on being gross, greedy and animalistic. You mewl pathetically from the intensity, biting into his skin as he makes you come with pleasure slamming through your body roughly enough to make you start crying. 

To soothe you, he pulls back his head to kiss you longingly even if it becomes nothing more than a messy crash of your mouths together. He does it to quieten down himself too, finding that his stomach is tightening and his balls are drawing up from being so close. You’ve tightened around him too because whereas you should remove the sucker from your clit, once again, you don’t, and the questionable choice has your walls clamping down on him in overstimulation, squeezing his dick so heavenly that his hips stutter. He comes inside of you when the smaller fit has him seeing stars, groaning into your mouth as he pulses into you. 

The buzz of the toy becomes louder again but only because it slips from your hand, your body trembling with overwhelming excitement as you come down from your millionth orgasm in a fairly short period of time. You sob without being sad, curling in on yourself as soon as he pulls out of the dripping mess between your legs. He is on you instantaneously, pushing your hair out of your face, turning off the toy, and cooing gently. 

“Oh, Nena (baby girl), you’re okay,” he tuts while you cry quietly, several teardrops rolling down your nose as your body tries to escape itself. He kisses your shoulder, blows a raspberry on it, “You did so good for me. You’re okay. We just went a little overboard.”

Javier rolls off of you but instead of following the instinct to rest his exhausted body by lying down, he sits up in your shared bed. He scoots close to you until he can coax you to drag yourself into his lap with a feeble whimper, wrapping his arms around you and rocking you back and forth like a newborn. He supposes you must feel rebirthed. You sob into his chest, cheek pressed into where his heart hammers, and still overwhelmed with the painful pleasure that you have just experienced. 

“Shh,” he whispers with his lips pressed to the crown of your head. He kisses your hair, rubbing soothing circles into your sweaty back until your cries turn into tiny hiccups instead, “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

The way you cling to him tells him that you feel safe with him. He dares lift your chin, looking into your puffy, red eyes and rubbing a tear-streak away from your face. His voice is raspy from sex, “Are you okay, baby?” 

“I’m okay,” you croak with a tired and tiny smile, shivering as the sweat starts to cool down. He holds you a little tighter. You relax in his arms even despite getting a bit of control back, “Scatterbrained.”

“Lo sé (I know),” he huffs out a chuckle with another kiss to your head. He cups your jaw and dips down for a kiss on the lips too, thumb rubbing affectionately along your cheekbone, “Pero eres tan hermosa (but you’re so pretty).”

“Thank you,” you cover his hand on your face with your own, “I’m ready to conk out.”

“Shower?” He asks and suggests at the same time.

“I won’t be able to stand upright for that long,” you run your hand over your forehead instead, laughing quietly.

“Alright, bath it is then,” he gently runs his fingers through your hair, “Ready?”

“You’re going to carry me?” You ask with a raised brow as he starts moving towards the edge of the bed with you, “I weigh a ton with this pregnant belly.” 

“I do lifts with our daughter on the daily, you know,” he jokes, “Best workout method in years. Even if she talks a lot.”

You yelp with a laugh as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you through the bathroom, crossing the tiled floor with you in his arms bridal style, and sets you carefully on the edge of the bathtub. As he turns on the tap and lets the tub fill, he imagines the cool porcelain is nice against your sore thighs and cunt. 

After testing the water, he gently helps you into the tub with a comfortable silence between you. The content look on your face is a reward in itself, even moreso the sigh that you let out as the water envelops you and turns your tired muscles to putty. 

Javier washes your hair, leaning your head back and scooping water into his hand to rinse out the shampoo. He runs his fingers across your back and shoulders too, relieving some of the tension he has caused tonight. 

“What about dinner tomorrow?” You ask out of the blue and he nearly wants to laugh because, of course, you’re already back to being a mother. 

He puts conditioner in your hair, “I was just inside of you.”

“And that means that I can’t start planning your kids’ best lives?” You tease. 

He rolls his eyes affectionately, “Fine. I think we should just do something easy.”

“Actually,” you say. Here we go, he thinks. You turn your head to look up at him, “The kids have been talking about a picnic in the backyard, and Lucas really wants to try out the new tent we bought.”

“Mhm,” he hums, not protesting. It does sound fun. 

“And I checked the weather forecast earlier,” you add then clarify, “It won’t rain.”

“Baby,” he says with an affectionate smile as he rinses out the conditioner too, “You need to shut down that brain of yours. You do plenty enough to keep us happy.”

“It does shut down sometimes,” you reassure him with a little smile, rubbing your nose in a manner that he always finds adorable. You lean back to simply soak in the warm water, belly just poking out above the surface, “When you touch me.”

Javier lays a hand on your stomach, caressing you in slow circles. He feels playful when he knows you’re getting back into your normal self again, “Guess I’ll just have to keep touching you then.”

“I guess so,” you reply simply, eyes closed and a lazy smile on your face. Jesus Christ, he loves you and everything you have given him. 

“I’ll let you sit here for a few more minutes, really let you cook,” he tells you, bending down to kiss your hair. He pushes himself to stand, “I’m gonna go plug your new friend in all over. I think we drained the battery.”

“Don’t pass out,” you say in a sing-song voice, “Love you.”

“Te amo tanto, mi amor (I love you so much, my love),” he replies and leaves you alone with a hand on your belly. He hears you talk to his unborn children, and it’s almost sad that the time it takes for him to wash the toy gently in the sink, plug it in, and head back to you isn’t long. 

Finally, with his help, you finish the bath. He helps you to the seat of the toilet, hands you a towel, and drains water from the tub.

“I had the same old question today,” he small-talks while you are on the toilet to dry yourself. He steps over the edge of the newly-drained tub to stand in it, pulling the shower head off the wall to wash himself down from the remnants of what you have just done in bed. He’ll hurry up to finish before you so you don’t start changing the sheets in your pregnant condition. 

“Yeah?” You decide against what you are doing and go, albeit shakily, to find a flannel. You soak it in lukewarm water and instantly sigh as you place it between your legs. 

“Lucas wants that damn dog so badly,” he continues as he washes himself, “I told him it was a bad idea. He got pretty upset.”

“Is it? A bad idea, I mean?” You wash the flannel clean after using it and wring out the excess water before hanging it on the side of the laundry basket.

“I said yes but I also said it was you who had the final say in it. I’m not carrying a litter,” he huffs a small laugh and steps out onto the bath mat. He dries himself, “Two babies, a toddler, and a puppy seems like pushing it, baby, no matter how well-behaved.” 

“I had a dog growing up. It was pretty great and made me feel less alone,” you muse. You turn around to lean against the bathroom counter to steady yourself, watching him with a smile in your naked state, “We could find one in a shelter. A grown one.”

God, you are pretty. He hangs up his towel and draws nearer, stopping only when he has you caged between the sink and himself. He leans in for a kiss and you cup his face whilst he talks, “You’re so good.”

“We could surprise him for his birthday. I don’t like those puppies spending time in those cages during August. It’s too hot. They should be running in the grass,” you scratch his cheeks with your nails, pouting slightly. 

He kisses the pout off your face and puts a hand on your protruding belly, “You’ll look so beautiful during August.” 

“This isn’t about me,” you note with a grin and pat his hand, “Focus on your son for a second.”

“We’ll never be able to top that birthday present,” he says with his eyes glazed over by love, “Just saying.”

“But he’ll remember it for the rest of his life,” you argue. 

“Guess we’ll have to browse the local places then,” he gives in, sliding his hand around your waist. 

“You’re a great dad,” you return the caress by laying your palm on his bare chest. His pulse is high when you look at him like that, saying those things. 

“Don’t or I’ll have you right here again,” he threatens playfully. 

Despite your previous state, you respond cockily by turning around so your ass is level with his dick. You lean forward slightly but only to grab your toothbrush for the second time tonight and disappoint him. 

“Anything else happen today?” You ask as if nothing has happened whilst putting toothpaste on your brush. It matches his. You look at him through the mirror and he takes a moment to think, collecting his thoughts instead of getting hard again. 

“Oh, right, uh,” he gives up and takes a step to the side, reaching for his own toothbrush. You hand over the tube of toothpaste to him. He puts it back in its holder when he is done using it, “Well, there’s a new kid in Inés’ class. I ran into her mom or rather… Inés ran into her.”

You raise a brow in the mirror.

“Anyway, she was real friendly,” he recalls the moment earlier and speaks around his toothbrush, “They’re new in town and she wanted someone to show her around. She actually invited us for coffee.”

You turn to him now, having stopped brushing your teeth. It looks like you are trying not to laugh at him, “Javi…”

“Yeah?” He turns to meet your gaze and furrows his brow. Oblivious. 

“I’m sure she was super excited to invite you and your wife for coffee,” you chuckle, and a bit of toothpaste dribbles down your chin. You reach to wipe it off, “You’re so stupid.”

“Hey,” he clicks his tongue at you. 

“Did you give her your number?” You ask casually. 

“No… I told her that I would find her contact info on the class sheet,” he tells you and you laugh for real this time. 

“Ever the romantic,” you snicker, “Oh, you broke her heart with that.”

“Fuck, do you think she was trying to come onto me?” Javier realizes the true meaning behind the interaction. 

“Well, duh,” you start to brush your teeth again but cannot help giggling throughout the rest of cleaning them, “I bet she was batting her lashes at you.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I thought she was just being friendly,” he continues his own brushing. 

This happens more and more often. You are so deeply ingrained in his mind that his time as a casanova is so far behind him that he sometimes cannot pick up on these things anymore. He wants to say that it’s a conscious choice to be oblivious but it honestly is not. There’s just no one else but you.

“So are you gonna call her? Is it serious?” You taunt him after rinsing your toothbrushes together. 

“You’re in for a smack to your ass if you continue,” Javier rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the color of embarrassment in his cheeks. He hurries to go change the sheets before you start doing it.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you blink at him as you pass him to get your clothes from the bed before he has crumpled them up into the dirty sheets. 

He smiles and gets dressed with you afterward, standing on each of your respective sides of the bed without saying much. 

In bed, you kiss and say your ‘I love yous’. He falls asleep after a few minutes of listening to your slowed breathing. Just like he has done thousands of times before. It never gets old.

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

[kikitakite]

I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!

No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.

Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.

In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.

He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.

I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.

For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.

The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.

That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.

A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.

I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"

And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.

It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.

[zombie-bait]

Full Moon

Ok so I don’t normally post about Helluva Boss but the newest episode touched on an interesting concept I haven’t necessarily seen represented in media. Back when I was on Twitter (derogatory) a few years ago there was this now deleted viral thread where someone discussed how their struggles with mental health affected their relationship with their partner and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. 

This is such a good, short example of how anxiety and depression can play tricks on you. It becomes so easy to envision yourself as a nuisance, a constant burden to those closest to you because they cannot possibly genuinely enjoy your company, right? But in doing so you create this arbitrarily cruel version of the people you love, people who would otherwise never behave like this outside of your own mind.

It's mean. Because your mind wants to be mean to you under these circumstances. It wants to put everyone else's emotions and desires above yours, both in worthiness and validity. And that starts bleeding into your understanding of other people, especially those you care about.

Now. Helluva Boss.

"Can I get a fucking MINUTE to think after everything you put me through you pompous rich ASSHOLE? Treat me like one of your little butler imps, you can’t just dismiss me like that! I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as important. Well I’m not letting you, BITCH! Let’s go!" - Blitz

I find it really interesting how Helluva Boss decided to approach this conflict between Stolas and Blitz. Obviously, the difference in power matters. It's the underlying tension of their entire relationship and their lives. Stolas is burdened by the mountain of expectations thrust upon him from a very young age while Blitz is constantly reminded that he can NEVER be part of that world, that he is "smaller and not as important" not just in Hell's hierarchy but in his own life and family. Stolas very literally has power over Blitz (through the grimoire, the arrangement, his position in society) and Blitz uses their relationship as an excuse to reverse those roles. But that power dynamic, in one form or another, never truly goes away. And for Blitz, it's a lot easier to paint Stolas as this manipulative symbol of power and himself as nothing more than Stolas' plaything. It's easier to be angry than to be vulnerable and accept that someone might care about him.

"Dismiss" is the keyword in that quote. All that Blitz has been able to process is that Stolas has decided to end the relationship that they have. He feels ls like a choice has been taken away from him so he lashes out because he's not ready to emotionally tackle what the rest of Stolas' offer might entail. If Stolas hates him, just wants to play with him, then he is justified in his anger, his self-destruction, his isolation. If the world is mean, you're "allowed" to be mean back.

But

In that moment he forgets that Stolas is someone he actually cares about. Someone he's known for way too long and clearly wants to keep in his life, no matter how reluctant he can be to admit it. Someone who is not innately cruel or manipulative but sad and desperate for connections in a lot of the same ways that Blitz is. And Blitz immediately sees that he's miscalculated something.

Somewhere along the way the fictional version of Stolas that he's allowed himself to be mad at and the real one that he's not ready to admit he cares about have merged into something real that he has actual power over. Stolas can get hurt and Blitz can be the one who does it. He has once again allowed his greatest fears (which Stolas so frequently symbolizes) to co-opt his loved ones, to give him an "out" even though he didn't actually want one in the first place.

I'm definitely not the first person to say this but I think this is an example of the miscommunication trope done right. Their individual struggles are what cause them to be unable to connect during this conversation or to even have a proper conversation in the first place. There is no convenient misunderstanding or third party fabricating this rift. Both of them have preconceived ideas of what the other one is thinking but those ideas are flawed and rooted in self-hatred. They also both shutdown in their unique ways when the conversation starts heading in the direction they'd feared it would.

Blitz and Stolas work because they're both fucked up in similar ways, because they want similar things. That's the same reason why they're uniquely designed to hurt one another. A fear of rejection and a yearning for happiness. To borrow a quote that has been used by literally everyone from Spiderman to Evangelical preachers, "hurt people hurt people."

anyway, I really liked this episode.

(twitter thread screenshots sourced from this reddit post)

[neechees]

https://www.gofundme.com/f/ne9gzx-help-them-to-survive?utm_campaign=p_lico+share-sheet-first-launch&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer

Dear Friends,

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to share an urgent plea for help. Due to the ongoing conflict in Gaza, my family and I have been forced to flee our home and seek refuge in Khan Younis. My mother, who is pregnant, is in critical need of assistance to ensure her safety and the safety of her unborn child.

We are facing severe hardships and are struggling to provide her with the necessary medical care and basic necessities. I have launched a campaign to raise funds for my mother's survival during this perilous time.

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This is indeed a genuine fundraiser that has been vetted.

Be sure to reblog and/or donate if you can! This artist is also offering artwork in exchange for donations to Laila if anyone is interested.

[aphrmoosun]

[No words]

NOMAE ; One Shot!

• Pair.

Noa and Mae

• Movie.

Kingdom of the planet of the apes

• Tags.

NoaxMae, yes it is a ship, dont read if you dont ship them, smutt, au, future, humans and apes politics, ape and human relation, Noa is an inocent ape, oneshot, relationship, Interspecies, strong language, honour apes, writer is not English native speaker, if you see errors tell me, etc

• Other Nomae fic.

You and Me

• Sipnosis.

Apes and humans lived in peace for more than half a century, the war only brought internal conflicts between the sides and although peace was the later consequence, they finally lived together and peacefully.

But it was still not well seen that humans and apes had relationships, each one lived in their area, both separated by borders and policies.

Noa son of the leader of the eagle clan. And Mae daughter of an important senator. Ape and human had set their eyes on each other, unable to ignore the other's presence when they saw each other. The tension between the two ends in a nighttime escapade with consequences for the future.

DO NOT COPY OR SHARE IT ELSEWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION!

• No words [One shot]

Mae didn't like participating in her father's political campaigns. More than anything because she always ended up in the middle, like a piece of meat.

She was just grateful that her father always defended her and never left her hanging, but the suitors always surrounded her, eager to get close to the senator's daughter from the southern zone.

That first day, she had to accompany her father to a dinner with the Eagle Clan. A friendly clan that always worked alongside humans.

Mae sat quietly in her seat, trying not to draw attention to herself. She didn't have the same tension as with other human politicians who tried to pair her up with one of their sons at every opportunity.

No, there she only observed Noa, the son of the Eagle Clan's leader. He also looked back at her.

They didn't need many words; they never did. Whenever they saw each other, their relationship was one of glances, smiles, and even touches.

Mae didn't know if Noa caught her attention because he was different from the others or because he was the only one his father didn't try to pair her up with.

That was simple. Neither the senator nor the clan leader understood that humans and apes could have a relationship beyond politics. For both humans and apes parents, humans and apes could coexist with boundaries and each in their own place.

None of them realized that their children understood that humans and apes could have a much more... intimate relationship.

That dinner passed quietly. Except for a surprise at the moment of saying goodbye. Noa this time bid her farewell with a hug.

No one seemed to pay attention, and if they did, they didn't say anything. Nor did it interest either of them. Mae was too comfortable in his arms, and Noa was too busy feeling the small, soft, peculiarly scented human in his arms.

When they separated, their eyes met again. Neither of them knew why their bodies reacted so intensely.

They didn't need words.

________-------------------_________

That night, Mae went out of her hotel room for a walk. She was sure the place was quiet and guarded, since politicians and leaders from all states had gathered there.

She was sure, yes. But she got a little scared when she heard footsteps behind her.

"What are you doing alone at night here?"

It almost cost her to recognize that voice. When she turned her head to see the ape standing beside her, she sighed in relief.

"I was taking a walk."

"You can't go out at night without company. You know there are apes who still have trouble coexisting with you humans."

Mae let out a laugh.

"Well, for that, there are apes like you who feel very comfortable with humans, and even dare to hug them in front of everyone."

The human couldn't appreciate the blush that appeared on the ape's cheeks.

"Not only do I feel comfortable. I like humans."

"What? Is it a fetish of yours? Having them all at your feet? Am I just one more?"

Noa stopped, making her stop too.

"You're the only one."

Now it was her turn to blush. But this time, Noa could see her, because the moonlight reflected off her face and eyes.

Mae coughed a little, turning her head to the right, unable to bear his gaze.

Many times they had looked into each other's eyes, smiled, touched, and hugged, but never had Noa's eyes shone like that.

"Am I the only one?"

Noa's voice brought her back to reality.

"What do you mean, the only one?"

Noa took her hand, leading her to a more secluded spot.

If someone saw them together, they might think the worst. Noa leading her by the hand in the darkness of the night towards an empty corner of the hotel building.

Once Noa found the perfect spot, he leaned her against the wall and pressed his body against hers.

Mae could feel the strong, muscular ape body against hers.

He went back to hugging her, bringing their faces very close together.

"The only one you feel like this."

Noa kissed her ear and neck.

"Noa."

"What do you mean Noa?"

Mae felt stupid. Of course, she felt the same way. But there were too many obstacles between them.

"This is wrong."

"Does it feel wrong?"

Of course, Mae didn't respond.

Noa was attacking her weak points, kissing her neck and, in a moment when Mae wasn't paying attention, had slipped a hand into her underwear to touch her most intimate parts with curiosity and passion.

Now it was Mae's turn to protest for the ape to touch her the way she wanted.

"Shh." Noa whispered. "We might be overheard."

Without making her wait too long, the simian's long fingers began to caress her clitoris. The other hand went to her buttocks to help her stay just as he wanted. His mouth continued with what he had left pending, mimicking the human's breasts with kisses, licks, and nibbles.

"Noa, please."

Mae felt too close to climax. Her legs trembled, and her lower abdomen electrified with the energy that coursed from her clitoris to her head. Noa's fingers moved faster, like a cable that made the energy pass through him to her.

"Noa!"

Mae came with that cry, clinging to the ape's shoulders, unable to achieve her goal, and ended up sitting astride him.

Her breasts still rose and fell, struggling to breathe normally.

Their eyes met, and they maintained silence, gazing at each other.

Noa raised a hand to the girl's cheek, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen forward, and left his hand there to continue caressing her.

Mae sighed.

"Did you like it?"

Noa asked uncertainly.

Mae laughed.

"Are you asking me that after I just came on top of you after giving me an orgasm?"

"An orgasm? Is that what you humans call it?"

"What? And what do you apes call it?"

"We don't call it. Females rarely have ongasms."

"Orgasms." -Mae corrected, laughing.-

"Whatever. Males usually care more about reproducing than about the female's pleasure."

"Seeing it that way, humans are very similar to apes." -Mae realized something before continuing.- "But then, how did you know how to touch me like that?"

Now it was Noa who looked away, embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!" -Mae insisted.-

"And I... I saw some material before I met you."

Mae was very confused by the two confessions.

"Why did you care so much about me?" -the human stopped.- "What material!?"

"Because I like you. I thought it was obvious." -Noa responded in order to her questions.- "And material... visual."

"Have you seen porn?"

"Is that what it's called?"

Mae didn't know what was the strangest of all. That Noa seemed so innocent after touching her in a not-so-innocent way, that apes didn't have terms like orgasm or porn, or that Noa had seen porn to know how to please her.

Mae burst out laughing.

"Mae!" -with one hand, Noa tried to silence her.- "Seriously, we might be overheard."

"I don't know why you thought you needed to please me like that before, like, talking to me or asking me out on a date and eating ice cream."

"What's ice cream?"

"What?"

Noa silenced her again with his hand.

"Don't you know what ice cream is?"

Mae asked in a lower tone, and he shook his head.

"We need to fix that."

Mae got up quickly.

"Wait, Mae." -Noa held her hand.- "You haven't answered me."

"What?" -the human realized.- "Oh, yes, I also like you. I thought it was obvious." -she imitated the simian's words.-

"I'm going to ask your father for your hand!"

"What?"

Noa seemed very sure. He got up and was determined to seek out the senator.

"No, wait Noa." -Mae stopped him.- "We need to think this through calmly. We don't know how they'll react."

The ape shook his head.

"I don't care. I only want you."

Mae blushed and looked away, remembering something.

"Noa." -she stopped him again.- "But how are you going to go like that?"

The human pointed to the ape's large erection. Because they were used to not wearing clothes, she could see it clearly in the moonlight. Long, erect, almost covered with hair. And Mae wondered how it would feel in her hands or inside her. If it would be soft and hard at the same time.

Noa, who had also looked down, turned away, embarrassed.

"You're right. Maybe it's not the best moment."

"You don't have to be embarrassed! On the contrary, I owe you an orgasm."

"No, we can't do anything, I don't want to do it inside you without engagement."

Mae was surprised by his response. The way he cared for her, not just physically but also her honor. For humans, physical contact went beyond just hugs, many reached marriage with three or four lovers, and women didn't wait for marriage either.

Those traditions of loyalty, fidelity, and union concept were something to envy. Apes might not marry for passion or taste, but for a bond much more important than the physical.

And Noa wanted to share that with her. It reminded the human that they did it because the ape believed she liked it. And of course, she did, and his erection showed that he liked it too.

But Mae wasn't going to rush things just for a fling when what Noa offered was indescribable in human words.

"We don't have to do anything." -Mae began, trying to speak softly.- "I could help you without penetrating me, but we can wait for that."

Noa remained silent. He looked at her fixedly and turned his body, letting her see his powerful erection again.

"Mae." -Noa approached her, taking her hands.- "Help me, please."

The power she felt inside her in that moment made the human move without control.

Mae moved her hands down, caressing his chest and grabbing the large penis with both hands when she reached her destination.

Noa followed her gaze, sighing, and Mae shook her head.

"No, look at me."

Noa obeyed, and Mae wrapped her hand around his virility and began to move it up and down while the other carefully caressed the tip from which a liquid was already coming out, wetting her hand and showing her how much the ape liked her touch.

"Mae." -Noa whispered without taking his eyes off her.-

Both remained standing, looking at each other fixedly.

When Mae noticed Noa's restless body, she moved her hands faster, holding onto his phallus more tightly.

"I'm going to... Mae!"

Then Noa closed his eyes and a hot jet of liquid hit the human in her exposed belly.

Noa hugged her tightly while trying to recover his breath.

"Shh, they're going to hear us. Noa." -Mae whispered to the ape, mocking all the times he had told her that.-

The ape laughed between his teeth.

"Mae." -then they looked at each other again in the eyes.- "Thank you."

The human squinted her eyes, unsure why he was thanking her.

Before she could ask, a light pointed at them, startling them.

"What are you doing there?"

The voice of the ape who had found them startled them. Mae with her shirt up, pants down, and underwear wet due to her orgasm but also because of Noa's, which had ended up falling there. And Noa, who still showed enthusiasm in his gaze.

Even so, the ape placed himself in front of the human, covering her nudity towards the other ape.

END.

[jess-the-vampire]

Happy Arborgeist Day/ Hurl'ullack!

Checked out the storyboard for another deleted s1 episode "No Tree Left Behind"

You can read it here:

An episode about boiling isles holidays and traditions? interlaced with eda and lilith's sister drama? This one was actually pretty interesting, and got me even a little sad, despite it absolutely being non canon now.

Thoughts on the cut episode below:

Honestly this board really serves to remind me we didn't get to know a ton about the actual culture of the Boiling isles, like we kinda get to know the stuff witches do on the isles, what they eat, and the everyday stuff they get into....but not so much about it's culture. You can kinda chalk that up to belos a little but this boarded episode was basically about keeping tradition and making new memories, even in spite of change, so it more or less feels like the crew either didn't have time for this or had other things to focus on.

So the culture of the island is a lot more in the background in the actual series as it keeps it's focus more on the characters dealing with their personal issues and with the conflict at hand.

Speaking of which, despite belos being the bad guy for his hatred and fear of witches, can't deny....the culture of the isles is quite disturbing at times that i can understand that not all humans are gonna have luz's extreme acceptance. Like king's holiday is primarily the celebration of demon overlords and is very casual about maiming others to present to the deity when talking about it. If the isles was a real place i think most humans would be a bit disturbed.

Anyways, king's part of the episode, while funny at times, is the least interesting of the two, the real emotional core is the A plot with eda and luz.

(I did think the scene with willow and gus was fun tho)

There is one scene where i think another demon calls king insensitive for putting the wrong bloodthirsty battle painting of demon history on display and king being like "Tomatoes, tomatoes, it's all the same and not a big deal", and the guy gets SUPER offended and i don't know how to take this scene.

Eda is such a menace during the holidays my god

Luz trying to tell Eda it's ok if her celebration tree is gone because she and her mama celebrated all holidays even if it wasn't on the correct day, and it was more about family in the end then the tree itself.

Only for it to be revealed this tree meant so much to eda because it reminded her of the days she and her sister got along is actually pretty heartbreaking.

Even Lilith, who, despite threatening luz's life to get her way, still has a moment of sadness for the fallen tree you can really feel from the panels. It's really good.

We get some moments for both the construction coven and the plant coven, though the construction coven acts more like.....an actual construction team.

The plant coven members being old guys had some fun jokes tho, think it's cute one wanted to intern willow at the end.

Also kiki cameo.

I know this is a canned episode, but i'm a bit glad we don't have an episode where some of the jokes are about eda telling luz their holiday traditions involve them all being naked and dancing around a tree, this....would of been taken a weird way.

also witches might be able to remove their SKIN??????!!!!

Also this board just remined me how inconvenient it really is that the coven guards don't have palisman, like eda just.....easily flies away from them and they can't catch up to her. Like this is an incredibly bad security system if your trained guards can't even fly up and chase after criminals, like my god.

One reason for sure you know this is basically non canon is apparently the tree in question, the Arborgeist. Is the tree that eda made her staff from, and there's only 10 of these on the entire isles that i assume supply all the palisman.

Basically, these were the proto palistrom trees.

I can kinda see why this was changed, like even if we take it that belos is cutting them down for his palisman eating, this would just raise the question why he's doing it NOW of all times. But on top of that, these rare trees that apparently only show up once per generation all being cut down at once feels like the kinda thing that would REALLY tick off the isles, especially if all palisman are being supplied by it.

Having the trees just be a normal thing that was depleting due to his consumption makes both him seem less suspicious, and the witches seem less dumb for just being....ok that they're not going to make staffs anymore.

It's implied they don't protest mostly out of fear, but still.

Also belos's, i assume fake, reasoning for chopping down the trees is apparently "We can't have you people celebrating non-coven holidays" and it's just, it's so petty.

granted, it's much more meaningful to actually SEE the tree being cut then having it be stated offscreen like in the show. Like even the resolution to this episode, as in, finding a sapling they plant, is still an offscreen thing in the final series. Where they just talk about replanting trees.

And of course, we gotta have a dance party ending, tho i do think the last scene tying back to the tale eda told about the holiday is very cute.

So it seems a lot of elements of this episode were more split between multiple episodes.

Still, a pretty decent episode, moreso for the main plot but the boards do great at really making you feel for eda and lilith despite it not even being animated.

[hauntedhokage]

ｆｒｅｅｆａｌｌ

summary: Sae wasn't particularly interested in building relationships or bonds with the people around him. Until you came along, wife of one of his new teammates and the sweetest woman he'd had the honor of knowing.

word count: 3.7k

warnings/tropes: mutual pining, cheating (not reader or sae tho), emotional cheating (on reader’s side), divorce, non explicit sexual content

To Sae, team engagements were unbearable, he used to not go to them because he had better things to do than talk to the idiots he played with. Then you came along when your husband was traded to the team, suddenly evening recovery after training and practicing all day didn’t seem as important. He was strategic about it; feigning an interest in the rest of his teammates and their lives as well, saying that his manager thought it would be good for him to actually get to know the people he traded passes with. The entire locker room was in shock, but you had commented after a match that friendliness looked good on him even though it was clearly killing him to be nice. 

And he watches as you lean into your husband at one dinner; the man who was so undeserving of you, who didn’t worship you like you deserved. You were ethereal, the way the sunlight made your eyes sparkle, or how your jewelry seemed to look brighter against your skin - even down to the wedding band that he longed for you to have a reason to take off - it was all worthy of worship and your husband didn’t give you that. Not that he was wishing for unhappiness to befall you, that was a storm cloud you didn’t deserve to be under due to how nice you were. The only person who saw right through him, who caught the way he looked at you and looked at him the same way. 

He will never forget the way you’d run into him at a team dinner for the players and their spouses to celebrate a big win. You’d gone to the restroom, and he had gotten up to do the same a few minutes later and ended up almost knocking you over. On reflex he reached out to steady you, but his hands didn’t want to leave where they landed on your arm and lower back. Your skin was so soft, that he knew after you’d shaken his hand since that was a normal greeting where you’d come from, but to hold you like that was something else. Something he wanted to get that chance to do again, which had been difficult for him because he had never really been interested in a woman like he’d been interested in you. 

“You should be more careful,” he had warned, carefully helping you regain your balance before he finally stepped away. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting anyone. You’re like a brick wall, Itoshi.” Your teasing came with a pat to his chest before your hands tried to smooth out any imperfections caused by his catch. “Thank you for catching me.”

“Anytime you need it.” And you smiled, cheeks flushed as you stepped around him to head back to the table where your husband was. He hated that he had to let you go after you’d been so close, after you’d touched him so carefully. It was the sweetest torture to be so close to you, seated beside you at the table and noticing the way you’d look at him out of the corner of your eye. The thought of a chance brought his mood up significantly, and that he knew you definitely had noticed. The chance of what, he wasn’t exactly sure, but the way you put your hand on his shoulder as you and your husband made your leave - a small squeeze that he hoped was meant to be affectionate - he hoped that whatever that chase was it was a bit more than friendly. 

Then there was the time after one of their matches and you had headed to the back of the stadium where the locker rooms were. He had known that you and your husband had gotten into it before the match, the man couldn’t stop talking about it and how he needed to fix the problem, so when he ran into you he was almost happy that you looked conflicted about being back there. He’d asked if you were okay, something that you hesitated to answer before you nodded with a smile so fake but he couldn’t call it out. Instead he gave you his phone number, watching as you typed it and sent him a text with his name, telling you that you could always talk to him if you needed an unbiased opinion on anything. He was mostly unbiased, just not when it came to your marriage, but you didn’t need to know that. 

And you had taken up on his offer, to the point where he was sure you talked to him more than anyone else. He knew he talked to you more than anyone else in his life. He’d never pushed past the line of friendship, never wanting to ask for you to be unfaithful to the man you admitted to him you were gradually falling out of love with. The man who you were concerned was pulling away from you emotionally while you were basically emotionally cheating on him with how often you spoke to Sae and all the information you shared with him. 

Emotional cheating was an interesting concept to him, something that he felt was actually stupid. Having a friend that you confided in shouldn’t be considered cheating, since neither party was sharing their own feelings for one another, just simply talking shouldn’t be considered cheating. If it led to infidelity, then the physical act of cheating was the actual cheating that occurred. But he wouldn’t argue with you, you didn’t like it when he pushed back on that concept but he knew how you felt while you knew how you felt. Agree to disagree worked out for the two of you.

You’d been friends for almost a year when the news broke. Your husband had been supporting a mistress since he’d been traded to this current team - for as long as you’d been in the country. Which was one issue, the other issue was that the news hit the media with the mistress sending screenshots of texts and pictures sent between them to an online news page and her instagram. The entire internet had seen the dick of your husband of almost four years, and had been tagging you recently in instagram posts and blowing up your comments on all social media sites they knew you were on while trying to get information or more to add to the story the news sites were spinning together. He was surprised your phone was even on, telling him where you were when he asked to which he responded with his own information about having a concussion. He’d done something stupid when he heard the news, revealing emotion his team had never seen in him before. A woman as sweet as you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, you deserve much better than that. 

You hadn’t formally invited him, but he makes his way to the hotel you were at and knocks softly on the door. You look more put together than he’s expecting, but lets you walk into his arms and leads you back into your room. He's surprised when you arrange yourself around him on the bed rather than being the little spoon, but he’s not arguing since the lights in your room were a bit too bright for his taste so pressing his face into your neck without you fighting it was perfect for him. 

“Do you really have a concussion?” you ask, your fingers stroking his side as he nods into your neck. “I thought you were more careful than that.”

“Got a bit reckless after I heard about what he did. I like you too much to let him get away with hurting you. The entire team is pissed, too.” The answer is honest, pulling a sigh from you as you nod.  “You didn’t have to let me in.”

“No, I know. But if I had to see anyone after the shitshow he’s stirred up, I’d want it to be you.” Did you really like him that much? He supposed you had to with the way you looked at him, talked to him, even the way you baked specific treats for him that were in compliance with his strict diet rather than the ones that his teammates were okay with eating “just one” to break theirs. “This is why I put away my own savings, being a soccer wife can crash and burn at any time. It’s just unfortunate that the media is so involved.” 

“What happens now?”

“Right now we’re separated. I didn’t want to stay in the penthouse which is why I’m in a hotel,” you start, sighing as he nods slowly. “He’s trying to put off the divorce filing, since he’s fucked regardless of where we do it. Divorce due to infidelity? Not liked by any country’s divorce court.”

“Do they know you’re here?” Who they are needs no elaboration - they were always the media that ended up everywhere when there was a scandal afoot.

“No, they’re currently more focused on him and his idiot mistress. The scorned wife isn’t as important until the divorce is filed and money gets paid out.” 

He sighs into your neck, and you feel the gentle press of his lips against your skin. He always took such good care of every part of his body, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how they’d feel against your skin. They’re soft, not at all chapped, and they’re quite comforting to have on you. You wished you could rebound so quickly, but to be caught with your divorced husband’s teammate made you look as bad as him. Maybe this would be all you had, a soft rendezvous in a hotel room here and there where you could just be you and Sae could just be Sae and you didn’t have to worry about the media or the team or your soon-to-be ex-husband. 

“Sae?” The only response you get is a grunt into your neck, and you kiss the top of his head as you try to formulate your next question. This affection wasn’t completely abnormal, hugging Sae was pretty common for you since you treated him so well. It’s kissing that’s a bit out of place, but it’s comforting in this time of crisis, so you’d take it where you could.  “What’s this thing between us? I mean, we’re close and I think we know more about each other than anyone else, but is there something that can come after all this blows over?”

This has him pulling away so he can look at you, blue eyes soft with a look you had only ever seen pointed in your direction. You’d always known that you were something special to him, and he was special to you - probably the only person you confide in about the woes of your marriage and this life you chose to lead. In turn you get to know more about him, how he felt about soccer and this team he was on (a bunch of sub par morons but the money was good), even a bit of the history between him and his brother. 

“I love you,” he starts, his and cupping your cheek as your eyes begin to burn with the tears welling up in them. “I have for a while and I know that you’ve known that. I just didn’t say anything because you were married and I didn’t want to put you in a position where you might feel uncomfortable or in a spot where you had to choose.”

“Bastard made that choice for me, anyway.” 

“As for what happens next, that’s your decision. I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush into anything, I want you to feel protected from the media or fans of the team too.” His hand moves from your face to hold your hand, fitting enough that it was your left hand that still bore your wedding and engagement rings. “I care more about your comfort than any label we might have. I’m here for you and with you in any capacity you want me to be.”

His fingers go for your rings, and you don’t fight him when he slides them off your finger and turns away to set them on the nightstand behind him. His fingers are laced with yours when he turns back, this time pulling you into his arms so you can rest your head on his chest. The admission of feelings isn’t returned, but he’s not expecting them at this point in your processing of what was happening in your life. Your marriage and intimate details of it had been revealed, an upset mistress releasing texts about how your husband was upset that you hadn’t put out, how you made him mad sometimes with how you baked for his teammates, how he fell out of love with you but stayed because you made him look better for the public. 

Funny how that turned out. 

And he lays under you, watching as you go through your various social media accounts to delete any pictures of you that had been posted - even tweets or pictures where he’d simply been mentioned. All of them were gone after a few minutes of looking. Next comes your camera roll, that one taking a bit longer because of how long you were with that guy, but you were relieved when you had everything deleted. He’s surprised when you open your camera and take a picture with him, casually resting beneath him as he watches you. 

“Take a better one,” he requests, kissing your temple as you smile for your camera. His phone vibrates on the nightstand with the message you’d sent, and his hand sets to running along your side with fingers dancing delicately along your curves when you finally lock your phone and let your eyes close. “How long do you want me here?”

“How long can you be here?”

“As long as you want me to be here. If nobody knows you’re here, there’s no real concern about people seeing me leave.”

“At least stay the night? We can figure out the rest tomorrow.” The request is met with assurance that he’d give you that, and you pat his stomach in thanks. “I guess it wasn’t fair for me to call his mistress an idiot. She was pretty smart to release to the media. He said he’d tell me and never did, so she made sure I’d find out. Real girl’s girl, I guess.”

“I don’t think embarrassing you in front of the world is something a girl’s girl would do, but alright.”

“It just sucks, y’know. He was once so good to me, he loved me, but I guess pain goes both ways. I think he knew I fell out of love with him, too.” You murmur with a sigh, sitting up when Sae requests it so he can take his shirt off to avoid further wrinkles. But the purpose is defeated when he just throws it to the side before he lies back down, arm spread to the side in an invitation. “If we did get together, it’d have to be private for a long while. I’d hate for you to look like a wife stealer despite him doing what he did.”

“I’d want it to be private anyway. People are a bit crazy when it comes to me, you shouldn’t have to put up with it.” You pull your knees up to your chest when he says that, unsure how you felt like that. Your previous husband wanted to show off wherever he could, to have Sae want to tuck you way was a direct one-eighty from what you knew. “I’ll show you off where it matters. You’re more to me than just a shiny trophy.”  

You don’t think he knows how beautiful he looks spread out on the hotel bed. Red hair a direct contrast against the white pillow case, sunkissed skin on full display with a couple bracelets and the necklace he usually wore standing out but so fitting on his form. His usual indifferent expression is replaced with a mostly relaxed smile but still laced with concern as he watches you sit on the bed. 

You’re crying before you register it happening, and he sits up quickly to pull you back into his chest. Providing comfort where tears were involved wasn’t his specialty, and that was made obvious in the way that he carefully rubs your back and stayed quiet. There weren’t words he knew to provide, but you knew he didn’t understand that being there was enough - you’d have to tell him when you weren’t sobbing. 

“S-Sae,” you whimper, clinging tightly to him as he kisses your head. You’d been strong for so long, it was okay for you to let it all go. At this time he can only shush you, pulling you into his lap to keep you close as you cried. It was all he knew how to do, and eventually he’s laying back on the bed with you curled into his chest half asleep. 

“You'll be okay,” he whispers, kissing your head again as you hum. “You’re strong, you’ll make it through.”

And you do end up okay. Your divorce was finalized a month after, the payout you received for the infidelity helped you pay for an apartment, but you didn’t spend much time there. Sae’s apartment had become a second home, the spare bedroom turned into a space for you to hide away in when you didn’t want to sleep in his bed. You were very concerned with ensuring he didn’t feel like a rebound, despite never having done anything more than sleep in his bed and share the occasional hug, but he let you have the distance you wanted when you asked for it. 

When he gets a better offer a few months later, he asks you to go with him. It’s another country, another team, another new environment. But it was a fresh start, too, and he’s happy to hear you say yes; to go with him, to live with him, to be with him. And you relax considerably in your new home, grateful for the space from your ex-husband and the team who felt sorry for you. The letter that sat unopened in your suitcase left there until you decided that it was time to reopen that wound. You don’t think you’ll ever open it, not really wanting or needing closure from your ex-husband, you’d moved on well enough without it. 

Right now was about christening every surface of your new home by making out with Sae wherever he could get his hands on you. Sex was something he wasn’t initiating until you did, a boundary he’d put in place after you first kissed him. His hands would wander, but never in a way he thought would make you feel like he was pushing you to sleep with him in that way. His favorite spot that he’d had his mouth on you was the kitchen counter, slotted between your legs with his hands on your thighs and the way you sighed into his mouth as his hands moved up your sides made his soul sing.

“I’m so grateful to have you,” you whisper when he pulls away, a smile on your face as you catch your breath. “I love you, Sae. I know you’ve known, but I needed to make sure I told you outright.”

“I love you, too. But you’ve always known that.”

You only nod, hands holding his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him again. He’s so in love with you, never had he felt something so strong for another person. A ring he gave you sat on your right index finger, nothing too glamorous but he wore a matching one in the same spot - eventually he was sure you’d have matching rings sitting on your left ring fingers, but that time would come when you both were ready for such a commitment. 

He’d make sure to appreciate how you shone in the sun, the little laugh that left you when you were surprised with a kiss, especially the way your hand would seek out his while you were in a car with him. Lunches on the patio while you’re sitting in his lap, the fingers of his non dominant hand trailing up and down down your spine - the time he got to spend with you cherished since you weren’t traveling with him for matches. The privacy you two had added another layer of peace in your relationship, not needing to worry about appearances or media speculation on where your relationship was at. He could just be Sae, and you could just be you. Happy and in love and ready to take on the world together. 

And when you start having sex, Sae thinks about how fucking stupid your ex was. You’re gorgeous when your face is flushed, your lips parted as you can’t stop begging him for more or keeping your mouth on him as he makes love to you. Not to mention how you feel around him, never had he ever had a partner like you - pushing him onto cloud nine and catching him when he fell with his own peak. 

When he brought you into new locker rooms to christen his new space while you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, watching you try so hard to keep quiet so you wouldn’t get caught and get him into any trouble -  not that he cared. He was Itoshi fucking Sae; he did what he wanted, when he wanted to do it. And if that was taking his girlfriend in a locker room, then he was going to do it. 

Your relationship is made public two years after you’d moved with him the first time; an instagram post from you showing off the ring and your fiancé, showing that you were happy. This was a media storm that Sae welcomed, something positive rather than the negative press he attracted due to his attitude. You loved him dearly, and he loved you proudly. 

That’s how it should be.

[moirindeclermont]

Daily thread about BridgertonS3 because my hyperfixation is not bad enough as it is 😂

I saw some male reactors and some posts on other social media, claiming that Colin's face here is "cringe"

Now, let me felt this straight: if any man would pull that face with me, I would melt on the spot and give him my first born son.

But the part that interest me as a social science researcher, is why some people react to this as cringe. Why such an open and incredibly raw and unfiltered expression of love, connection and devotion is labeled as cringe?

Colin, as a character, is incredibly in tune with his inner self (even more incredible considering this is the type of internal conflict usually reserved to female characters but let's keep this for another thread), so once he is clear about how he feels, he just give himself to the emotion he is feeling.

And the show inform us of this through showing (facial expressions, body language) and through telling (Violet's line about armor). So, why when the show does deliver its promise, it's perceived as unexpected and cringe?

One thing I can think about is that some people are afraid of vulnerability, thus expressing emotions in such a raw way becomes unthinkable. And this is particularly interesting because, in contrast, Pen's pleasure and emotions through the carriage scene are as explicit and vulnerable as Colin's, but the reaction to them is very different.

So, the question becomes why some people perceive as cringe man's expression of a strong emotion? It might be that, as society, we are taught that male presenting people can only show emotions in a standard way?

I think it's so refreshing seeing a male lead being in tune with his emotions, that once has realized his feelings just gather his courage and communicate them, and that - once he knows - those feelings are reciprocate has no trouble whatsoever in showing them as openly and enthusiastically as possible.

In conclusion, we need more male leads like Colin. And more men who are not afraid of showing their inner self with their significant others.

[spotlightlowlife]

codependency isn't couple goals.

To add to cresent moon and this notion of a cornered victims imperfections being equivalent to power, we have a whole line up of characters who could do with working on themselves because their setups are good.

Yes fantasy has a habit of toxic relationships but the difference is they tend to be related in escapism, this show along with it's parent series tend to give us dynamics that they clearly want us to root for when they serve as little but a means to an end.

Over in Hazbin we have the push at Husk x Angel, where Angel casually sexually harasses Husk, much to his annoyance, as Husk works at a hotel bar through little choice of his own while Angel stays their for free, for shits and giggles too, yet Husk is not allowed to be upset Angel, that's insensitive, Husk must realise that they're both 'losers' and be more receptive, adjust his mood and make himself more outgoing when required.

We have Charlie x Vaggie, an established relationship yet this would never be apparent if it wasn't for us being told or already knowing because of the fandom. These two have the least chemistry of any pairing of either series, don't be fooled into believing their lack of crassness which is abundant when male characters are present is a lack of chemistry, these two just have nothing, Vaggie could literally be yet another sinner working at Charlie's hotel.

Charlie doesn't get to hide behind the excuse of behaving professional and busy at work because she's no professional and she doesn't work, this could work if this main character was actually given time and focus in her own series and her every interaction with her girlfriend wasn't some occasional glance from either of them, a peck on the forehead or slight touched hand at the same time as some pressing issue.

Both ladies are friendless yet they lack presence to such a degree that they maybe pass as acquaintances among all others hanging about in Charlie's hotel with nothing in particular to do.

Vaggie's new backstory had them meet the moment after she 'fell' (which Charlie conveniently didn't witness), laying injured and now homeless, Charlie, the princess of hell and not just any princess but the daughter of the leader of leaders, approaches to help, she was kind, caring and immediately interested, Vaggie became her sidekick along with the above.

Vaggie has little of her own, keeping quiet about her past could have been character strength or a weakness that can be developed, only it wasn't, nor were her intentions to improve her combat in preparation for the conflict that was on its way through no fault of her own, she is simply there with the plots simply happening to her, he major backstory, no big deal, gloss over Charlie's breif upset, no extra angel powers for Vaggie or effort to bring order or do anything to prove she had any stance pre Charlie, no, these leading characters were not given the time, the take away was that Vaggie now has wings and is even cuter.

Back to HB, Millie and Moxxie are a good couple but they're codependents with Millie having little outside their relationship.

Moxxie is very attached to Millie who is very attached to him, he loves how much she loves him and how keen she is to view in his interests, something he didn't get at home, but he's also attached to Blitzø, a friend he made in jail who was nice to him and had great dreams, Moxxie stuck around to see and help realise these dreams, dispite Blitzø being a horrible boss, not a nice friend, invading his personal space and bringing his bratty adult daughter to work with them. He had it thought growing up and like Blitzø who too experienced a crocked dad and a apparently caring, apparently quiet and apparently dead mother, Moxxie too now has a new family.

Why was Moxxie in jail? Because of a comicaly douchy ex boyfriend who also happens to have dated Millie too. They were both oblivious to dating the same douche and what he did to get Millie so upset is unknown, a truly pointless plot device.

Now on to Millie, who serves as validation for Moxxie but let us know that she too needs validation and a little moment to shine, I'm sure this sound sweet to some.

I truly believe that the Sallie May and Millie short was of no benefit to Millie's character, it further reiterated that her husband and her family must be separated parts of her life, yet this isn't a step away from codependency, this is yet another example of her complacency in her refusal to stand up to her nice enough but rowdy and judgemental family that no doubt is the reason she simply loves attention, loves the opportunity to be aggressive and loves the attention she gets from a guy who loves her for her exuberance and her love for him in return.

Millie was in an environment where she blends in, getting the chance to go elsewhere and stand out for being different gives her the spotlight she seeks, but how sustainable is it when she's just going to blend again because of her lack of interests?

She managed to have an ex, also Moxxie's ex, I assume while away from home, she managed to get her job where I assume she met Moxxie, she's been in the city, why not let her have hobbies, her favourite places to be where she's the one initiating outings, let her have friends she can enjoy shopping and clubs with rather than just her sister, let her enjoy live music and not just because it's her husband's passion.

It makes sense why they are given so many grande gestures.

Millie x Moxxie and Vaggie x Charlie are almost copy paste, a charismatic pushover from powerful family who isn't respected at work and is struggling to get their idea heard, is maybe the nicest person in their group but has selective moral compass, is a bisexual with a slimy ex but the current relationsip in a serious with a woman who comes from a different world and has eyes only for them, she's in the background somewhere. Millie x Moxxie work well because of the absence of unfair power dynamics, equal neediness and affection that can range from very tame to very vulgar.

Ozzie x Fizz very briefly took over as a healthier Millie x Moxxie until Fizz was humbled out of having any life of his own. Fizz has had it tough but now he's with royalty and living a life of fun and smothering loving, he doesn't need anything else.

Fizz also serves as proof that Lust itself is capable of love, yet dispite all the time they have been given and all the effort in that one episode to tell us how awful Fizz's boss is (the ONLY HIGH UP CHARACTER SO FAR to manage active and balanced leadership, live up to their villainy and not be dating the customer) and why he should stay home which fizzled out on us because Fizz's issue then became not feeling good enough for Ozzie and desperately seeking the validation we are constantly seeing him getting we have yet to see how Fizz x Ozzie become a thing, until then why believe that Fizz is the one even though Ozzie the great and the powerful predates time?

How they got together is something we have not seen in either of the leading established couples (if it's true that Vaggie x Charlie became a thing when they met under those circumstances, then it's arguable that Vaggie joins the sugarbaby club).

Previously I touched upon these two being a shortcut who piggyback off what some in the fandom want for Blitzø and Stolas.

Now if you honestly separate any likeness between these two ships, forget Fizz is an imp like Blitzø, forget the shared trauma experience, forget Ozzie is royalty like Stolas and forget the working relationship, what do these two have? Especially Fizz now that he's out of his other job that lined up with his life long aspirations?

Blitzø has been just another of a long line of partners who sleeps and works with the other, only with Blitzø the partnership is a transactional and a monthly over daily job.

He's not the default best friend even though Stolas wants to believe that, a total delusion on his part to believe into his adulthood that the 'lowly' child and open thief and vandal who was bought to your home because 'you like them and you're rich' those decades ago is your friend. They got to eat together on the one not date that Blitzø had a choice to not take further and chose not to. Blitzø is vilified for that time he called on Stolas out of contract because he needed a plus one or for liking sex which should come as no surprise considering the sex jokes are constant with him followed by virtually every other male character.

It's Blitzø who needs to get with the program and submit to his sugar daddy who holds all the cards.

Healthiest couple are Millie's parents.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I remember back in school that they taught us how to write stories like a picture that looked like steps or a triangle where it would show the conflict, rising action, falling action, climax, etc. etc. So I wondered if you have found those methods to be effective or is there another way about it that you'd recommend?

Basic Story Structure

What you're talking about is very basic story structure, like this:

While this is certainly an effective way to understand how stories work at the simplest level, it's not great for showing all the plot points that happen in each of those sections.

If you're interested in a more in-depth story structure method or template, you can Google ones like Save the Cat Writes a Novel! to Larry Brooks Story Structure, Three-Act Story Structure, the Snowflake Method, The Hero's Journey, Blake Snyder's Beat Sheet, Derek Murphy's 24 Chapter Outline, Gwen Hayes' Romancing the Beat, Shawn Coyne's Story Grid, The Seven Point Plot Structure, Dan Harmon's Story Circle, The Five-Act Structure, James Scott Bell's A Disturbance and Two Doorways, Kishōtenketsu Structure, Story Spine.

The key with any story structure method or template is to know you don't have to follow them exactly. They're just a suggestion... like a suggested travel itinerary. You can follow it or you can augment it and work in some of your own stops along the way.

For more, head over to my Plot & Story Structure master list. :)

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[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

the title of chapter 1116 is 葛藤/kattou, which is translated as 'conflict' in the unofficial scans and as 'inner conflict' in the official.

this is a pretty interesting word; it's composed of the kanji for kudzu (葛) and wisteria (藤). while it is indeed best translated as 'conflict' or 'discord,' the specific idea it conveys is of a sort of territorial struggle, as in the struggle between those two vines over the same piece of land. in the chapter, it's the word that edison uses to describe stussy's internal strife.

[mixelation]

i'm rereading the reborn au snippets and the ABNU stuff is so funny. Does the mission with Kakashi go off the rails? Or is Tori completely normal the whole time while Kakashi warily follows her around waiting for the shoe to drop? (I think it would be funny if she was completely normal for ONE mission and it lures them into a false sense of security and the next mission is bonkers) Does Tori ever get temp agented with Itachi? How does that go? Love your writing!!!

oh man i never decided how i want the mission itself to go. i do want late-teens tori to be pretty competent at ninja-ing (especially something she was hand-chosen to do!!), so i think the actual mission goes fine? but for providing conflict, maybe one or both of the following happen:

there's some sort of normal-ish mission hiccup and tori does something insane to fix it, perhaps at the cost of ignoring orders. then when kakashi tries to explain she can't do that in ANBU, tori is just like "but i fixed it, didn't i?"

the mission goes TOO well so the other two teammates are grumpy like "did we even need to waste our time babysitting a temp?" and kakashi waits politely for tori to be like "yes you did, i only made that look easy because i'm soooo awesome" but she DOESN'T and kakashi is like. hmm yes i see why you keep getting mistaken for a secretary

as for itachi..... i both think sticking her on his team would make for interesting character exploration but also maybe end with everyone dead. i'm not sure.

kakashi, stressed because what if this ends book club: but what are you going to do when she inevitably ignores orders?

itachi: ? why would she disobey orders?

kakashi: have you met her

itachi: i suppose there are a few key areas where tori has more expertise than me. in that case, i would defer to her calls

kakashi:

kakashi: so they ARE in love...............

[nottsangel]

i have some lorenzo thoughts (one of many) ‼️‼️

there’s something about lorenzo feeling very conflicted about his feelings once he realized that he somehow fell in love with you. i think those are feelings he‘s not really used to because he never allowed himself to fall in love with anyone tbh. he wants to prevent himself from getting hurt maybe? he was always just interested in having sex and nothing more. but now? maybe he‘s scared about his feelings since he doesn’t know how to act now :( it‘s something he needs to figure out

this is so him. he usually only cares about sex, and saw you as nothing more than just one of his fuck buddies he’d call when he got bored or just needed a distraction. and even though his friends would get into relationships, lorenzo was never like that. he was the friend that just fucked around and never understood the point of being in a relationship when he could have many girls at once, without any strings attached. so the moment he realised that he had feelings for you, he freaked the fuck out. he didn’t know what to do, how to act, what to say. so at first, he was in the denial stage. he oh so desperately tried to suppress his feelings, and gaslit himself into thinking that he only liked you because the sex was just, really fucking good. but after a while, he couldn’t ignore the way his face would light up whenever you walked into the room, and the emptiness he felt when you left again right after the sex, because that was the arrangement— the arrangement that he came up with. but fuck, he wished you would stay. he wished you would curl up next to him in bed, with his arms wrapped tightly around your body. he wanted nothing more than to make you his. but it was hard. it was new. and poor lorenzo just doesn’t know what to do :(

ੈ♡˳

[matan4il]

Your post about the concept of shahid is why messaging is different in english and arabic.

Nonnie, you're right. And the messaging from Palestinians has been different in Arabic and English since the days of Arafat in the 1990's already. In English he'd talk peace to the world, in Arabic he'd use a specific term from Islamic sources, "Hudaybiya peace," which refers to a pact made back in the 7th century, allowing Muslim fighters to grow stronger militarily, and attack when no one saw it coming.

You know what's the craziest thing? Israelis knew what he was saying in Arabic. Westerners had no idea what Arafat is saying in Arabic, or what this term means, but Israelis (journalists, military experts and so on) knew. And you know what they did? Made excuses for him, convincing themselves he doesn't mean it. "He just has to talk that way for his public, so he can continue making peace." Looking back at that, I wonder why did they not ask themselves why he needs to talk to his people that way? What does it say about Palestinian society's readiness to make real peace, if the only way to stay in power as a Palestinian leader, is to promise them the peace being made with their enemies is a false one?

Looking back at this is also what made me realize that there is no connection between how intelligent and knowledgeable a person is, and how correct they are in reading the geopolitics of this conflict. People's desire to maintain their belief is stronger than their intellect.

In that sense, I think Israel's failure in reading Hamas' intentions up until Oct 6 was kind of similar. Hamas would talk in Arabic about a violent war against Israel, in which Sinwar, for example, graphically promised to tear out the hearts of Israelis from their chests once Hamas breaches the border. But in messages in English through mediators like Qatar, they claimed they were not interested in a war, that they were a ruling body now, and as such had responsibility towards the Gazans, that Hamas wanted prosperity for its people, so as long as donations would keep pouring in, they wouldn't attack Israel, regardless of what they say in Arabic.

On Oct 7 we were all reminded that when someone speaks to their own people in their own language, we better listen, and we better believe them.

The day when Palestinian leaders say the same things in Arabic and English, and it's the things that the people in favor of peace want to hear, that's when we stand a real chance at having it.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[lindentea]

Analysis re: Full Moon and conflict resolution (or not)... spoilers ahead.

The fact that we got an episode showing a healthy, supportive, and-- most importantly-- communicative relationship (Fizz and Ozzie), immediately followed by an episode showing a very unhealthy and very non-communicative relationship (Blitzø and Stolas)... yeahhhh that really stood out to me.

(Sidenote: It absolutely warms my heart that Fizz is so much happier and healthier now!! And he and Blitz have a warm and affectionate friendship again!!! aaaaaaaa!!!)

I'm wondering if Apology Tour will start with Blitz talking to Fizz and/or Moxxie, since Blitz has actually opened up to both of them and apologized to/reconciled with them (he explicitly apologizes to Fizz in Oops and indirectly apologizes to Moxxie in Truth Seekers). I also find it interesting that both of those above apologies/reconciliations started with a fight or conflict.

In Moxxie's case, the truth gas initiates their conflict. They spill their guts to each other in person first, then their insecurities are pulled right out in the open for them in their individual hallucinations. When they come to, they have a quiet heart-to-heart.

In Fizz's case, it starts first at Ozzie's as a verbal conflict, and then in Oops it continues with taunts that escalate into a physical fight (when they are captured by Striker). What I particularly noted about their argument during the later shootout is that even though they start out yelling at each other in anger, they gradually clarify facts and express their perspectives and feelings, until the climax of "I DID CARE!!" (...which always makes me cry btw). And then Blitz actually says the words "I'm sorry." And although he admits/explains that it was an accident, he doesn't try to make any excuses or lay the blame anywhere else. That is huge for him!!

Back to Full Moon... When Blitz starts yelling and angrily shouts his feelings (however rational or irrational they are, however hurtfully they are phrased), he is trying to gain any kind of control over the conversation. He is trying to have a conversation at all. And fighting about it (whether physically or verbally) might be the only way he knows how to initiate that. Someone else on here noted that fighting seems to be a sort of default(...? not sure how to phrase that) way of resolving conflict in imp culture-- as we see with Millie and Sallie May in their short.

And, quite obviously, but very importantly.... Stolas is not an imp. He isn't familiar with that form of conflict resolution, nor that form of communication. At all. All he knows is Stella screaming at him and insulting him.

Stolas shuts down at the end of Full Moon because Blitz's screaming and insults trigger him after of all those years of Stella's abuse (Stolas' response to which is entirely valid and understandable). Both Stolas and Blitz perceive the other's response as a rejection, both of them are triggered by the other's response. It was depicted in an intensely realistic way-- hurt people hurt people-- people speaking completely different languages with their very different traumas and trauma responses, tbh. Neither of them is more wrong than the other. It's a heart-wrenchingly accurate display of traumatized people who care about each other, yet unintentionally hurt each other... buhhhhhhhhh FEELINGS.

[lazysublimeengineer]

The Enigma of Kiyora Jin and The Burden of Choices

In the first few pages of the manga, we were introduced to Kiyora's backstory and him being always in the middle of the conflict between his quarreling siblings and how they always make him a choice to which he should side on.

It's an interesting concept because of how the way he reacted to that throughout his life. There was always a look of indifference to him and how he may seemed cold and logical at times (hello? He looks like a colder version of Nagi) because for one the usual response to that is either being pressured and anxious because the important people in your life is making you a choice to which side are you on and this will definitely hurt or aggrieved the other party who is involved in it.

But Kiyora always operated on his logical reasoning on which would benefit him the most and we could that it became his comfort zone.

How does this relate to him as a player now in BM? Simple. He was presented with the same conflict and scenario he'd encountered when he was a kid with his siblings but now in the form of choosing who is the better player to ally with: Kaiser or Isagi. Now, I've seen a lot of people arguing that he should side with this or side with that to make them score a goal. But I can also see why because the author is blatantly showing us Kiyora's conflict and quandary on the matter but never the bigger picture yet.

Imagine a rather predictable chapter where he chooses one of them and it fails. Guess what happens to him? Out of top 23. That's right. He doesn't make it because he has failed to show his special capability and skill as a player out there. It doesn't matter if Isagi or Kaiser will score or not. In this chapter, the stakes are higher for those players who are desperate to make a name for themselves in this match and finally enter the top 23 and that includes Kiyora Jin.

If anyone noticed the next chapter title of the manga, "Beyond Restriction" it is a clue on the ego awakening of Kiyora because all throughout his life he needs to make a choice. A choice which side to put first that would benefit him in the long run.

But never choosing himself.

The author likes pushing the characters past their limit and comfort zones to get that character development and growth and in the case of Kiyora, the bigger picture is to make a gamble and bring himself out of his comfort zone by choosing himself first and foremost.

What do I mean by this? It's making everybody surprise and flabbergasted that no one had ever thought that he would do that and make him the dark horse of the match.

3 possible scenes I can see happening in the next chapter based from the last panel of the manga:

1. Ness makes a desperate attempt to pass the ball to Kaiser, Kiyora's observation had reached him an epiphany and intercepted the ball and score the goal for himself.

2. Amid the awakening of Ness' own ego in the match, we will get a scene of a probable unexpected teamup between Ness and Kiyora having a chemical reaction without looking at each other just like with Hiori and Isagi during the Ubers match and score the goal.

3. Hiori saw the potential in Kiyora in the most crucial of times and linked up with him to score a goal. A lot of people seem to be forgetting that Hiori is loyal to no one. Yes we have to thank Isagi for his contribution of his ego awakening but remember what he said to him back in the Ubers match? His passes are only worthy to receive by the players he deemed worthy enough to received them from him. If Hiori sees a potential in Kaiser then we will likely get a chemical reaction between the two and it will be the same with Kiyora. If Hiori sees that brimming potential in a player then he won't hesitate to pair up with them because his mentality is a world style of player and not a self type of player (wow. Borrowing personality terms from Isagi now eh?)

But then again these are all just my ramblings and pointless theories lol. Who knows if they'll come true? We'll prolly get a chapter next time with Rin going berserk lmao