#this is such a random post I just wanted to talk about recovery and have some community bonding yknow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

senorabond · 7 months

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Rumor Has It: Chapter 8 Peña x f!reader x Pike

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader; Marcus Pike x f!reader; future Peña x f!reader x Pike

Chapter 8 Summary: Before going any further, you set some ground rules with Javi. Then it's fucking game on.

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI), Explicit sexual content, additional warnings may be added for future chapters

Chapter Warnings: no use of y/n, previous relationship (Marcus x f!Reader), flashback, slowburn that got hot, workplace romance, ohh the yearning, fake relationship, keeping it secret, unprotected PIV sex (stay safe, folks), Dom/sub dynamic, use of Daddy, slight degradation kink (you’re a good little slut/whore), rough sex, possessiveness, cuckolding if you squint (I really don’t know how to describe it), dirty talk (Javi has a filthy mouth), light titty/ass spanking (2 light, 1 harder), hair pulling, spit, talk about anal, very light cumplay/eating, aftercare, soft!Javi, a bit of feels.

Reader/Character notes: Reader is fem!afab; No mention of Reader’s body size, shape, composition, or skin color. Reader is short enough to notice a difference in height without heels and has hair long enough to brush aside and pull back.

Words: 8.1k

Author’s Note: THEY FINALLY FUCK - Jeeeeesus. Took them long enough, huh? Please let me know if I missed anything I should add to the warnings, I feel like I took a kinky bag of scrabble tiles and just dumped them out on the floor with this chapter. This is easily the filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever written, and I’m actually really proud of myself. My new taglist is at the end! If you’d like to be added, just send me a DM or say so in a comment. ❤️

A ginormous thank you to my darling beta, @kilamonster. I could not have written this without your neverending support and tutelage. I can’t wait to write more smut in Spanish with you! Also, I’m not sorry for sending you periodic updates and random questions about the thots running wild in my head. 💋💜

Also, for anybody else like me who wants to write more smut in Spanish, @kilamonster sent me this incredible resource written by the amazing @urmomsgnocchi. Representation is so important, and this is just one of the many ways writers can do their part to represent different languages and cultures in their work. Please like, comment, and reblog the post so more writers can benefit!

Dividers by @saradika!

Masterlist || Previous Chapter

“Okay, ‘grown ass woman,’” he says, and you let out a small laugh. “I’ve got a choice for you to make.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”

“Your place or mine?”

~*~*~*~

Later That Night Texas

You chose your place. Javi says he’ll give you a half hour head start to avoid any suspicion from the other agents. You’ve put your blazer back on and fixed your hair, but the wet heat between your legs remains.

The gallery event wraps up, and Javi tells the others to report to the conference room the following morning for the official debrief. You check in with Diaz, who is still at the hospital, and are glad to hear that Bateman is already in post-op recovery and doing well.

Standing in your kitchen back home, old, familiar feelings wash over you. The adrenaline of the night has worn off, leaving you off balance. Marcus comes to mind, and his calm, grounding energy. You groan in frustration. You can’t let thoughts of Marcus creep in and ruin what is happening with Javi.

What is happening with Javi? Obviously, the sexual tension between you is off the charts; and the chemistry – oh God, the chemistry. Your heart rate goes up just thinking about how it felt to have his mouth and hands on you finally, his hardness pressing into you through his pants…

Taking a deep breath, you mutter to yourself, “I need a drink.”

Glass of wine at the ready, you kick off your heels and hang up the blazer in your closet. You feel as taut as a harp string and take a large gulp from your wine, hoping it will relax you. Rolling your neck and shoulders, you hear your phone buzz on the kitchen counter.

Setting the glass down, you take a deep breath and pick up your phone.

It’s a text from Javi. Maybe he changed his mind, or decided sleeping together wasn’t worth the risk to the case or your careers. Unlocking the screen, you read the text only to see that he’s giving you a final chance to change your mind.

I’m here. Do you still want me to come inside?

Peeping through the blinds, you look down at the parking lot outside your apartment building. The streetlamp casts just enough light to see Javi’s Jeep parked in one of the visitors’ spots. The man himself is in shadow, pacing a bit and fidgeting with his phone, presumably waiting for your reply. You smile, realizing that he might actually be a tad nervous too.

Opening your front door, the light from your apartment spills across the walkway outside and catches Javi’s attention. He stops and looks up expectantly to where you stand, backlit and beckoning to him from the second floor railing. Pocketing his phone, Javi makes a beeline for the stairs and takes them two at a time, reaching you in less than a minute.

The first thing you notice is the difference in your height, now that you’re barefoot. He’s smiling down at you, fingers dancing at his sides.

“Touch me,” you reply softly, “please.”

His tongue pokes out and wets his bottom lip.

“Inside.” Javi’s voice is strained, but firm.

Turning, you lead him inside your apartment, then hear him shut and lock the door behind him. You start to face him, but he interrupts.

“Don’t. Stay like that for me.”

Footsteps approach slowly from behind, making a coil tighten in your lower belly. You feel his presence at your back before he even touches you. Goosebumps erupt across your flesh as his fingers lightly graze your shoulders and upper arms.

A hand sweeps your hair to one side and off your neck. You tilt your head in the same direction, hoping to feel his lips on your sensitive skin. Javi’s hands still and he leans over to speak low in your ear.

“If we do this, I only have one rule.”

You smirk, remembering the first time he said that.

“You make the rules?” You start to turn your head to look at him, but his grip on your upper arms tightens just enough to hold you in place. His mustache twitches against the shell of your ear as he smiles, sending delicious signals to your already peaked nipples.

“No.” He takes a breath through his nose, smelling your hair. “You do.”

You let out a surprised Oh.

“You’re in charge of this; you decide what we do or don’t do, and how far this goes.” He walks around to face you, and you’re surprised to see how gentle his eyes are. They’re round and sincere, serious but not stern. You can’t wait to see them looking up at you from between your legs.

“Understand?”

You nod and he cups your face, running the pad of his thumb over your mouth and parting your lips.

“Use your words, cariño. I need to hear it.”

“I understand,” you say, then drag the tip of your tongue against his thumb. He lets out a pleased hum.

“Good. Now, tell me your rules.” His other hand strokes your lower back, sending shivers up your spine.

“Oh. Um, I – I don’t know,” you stutter.

He drops his hands and takes half a step back. “We’re not doing anything until you set the rules.”

“But–”

“This is important, cariño. I’ll give you a moment to gather your thoughts.”

And just like that, Javi’s walking away from you and sitting on your couch. What the hell is happening here?

He’s right, of course, damn the man. You want to be mad, but don’t know what to be mad about – how respectful he is? Letting out a deep sigh, you go back to the kitchen and pick up your glass of wine.

“Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?” Your voice comes out a bit more caustic than intended, and the sound of Javi’s throaty chuckle from the living room makes you bristle.

“Whatever you’re having is fine.”

The man sounds so calm and unfazed you want to throw something at him, but instead, you pout like a grown up and pour another glass. You set it on the small end table to his left and start pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table.

Stuck in a quandary like this, you used to be able to call Marcus up and talk it through, but that sounds as appealing as lemon juice in a paper cut right now. Besides, even if Marcus would help you get laid, he’s probably busy with his girlfriend.

Sighing, you sit down next to Javi and face him. In this position, the hem of your dress rides all the way to the top of your hip, but you’re in no mood to be modest. Javi takes a sip of his wine and turns slightly in your direction. He puts an arm along the top of the couch, and you try not to notice the way his suit jacket opens, revealing his broad chest sloping down to hint at a soft belly. His thighs splay invitingly, and you bite your bottom lip.

“Cariño?” Javi’s eyes sparkle with mischief.

“Right. The rules.” You set your glass of wine down and try to focus. Javi waits patiently, but you can see his fingers toying with the fabric on the back of the couch. He’s just as anxious to get this part over with.

“Rule number one: nothing at work. Ever. Not even after hours or in the parking lot. Nothing.”

Javi nods in stout agreement.

“Rule number two: it’s just sex. We’re simply two consenting adults with insane chemistry, privately enjoying the hell out of each other’s bodies.”

“Enthusiastically consenting,” Javi smirks, and sets his glass of wine next to yours so he can stroke your bare thigh. The hunger in his eyes is distracting, but you manage to pull your thoughts together one last time.

“And lastly, but most importantly – rule number three: what happens undercover stays undercover.”

Javi’s hand stills on your skin and he looks at you curiously. “You mind expanding on that a bit?”

“Our cover is just that; a story, playing pretend. We don’t let it blur the lines of whatever we do outside of the investigation. We have to compartmentalize.”

Javi takes a moment, considering what you’ve said, then nods. Looking you over, he slides his hand up to your hip and leans in, closing the space between you on the couch.

“I guess that means we better get out of these clothes.”

“That's a great –” You don’t even get to complete the sentence before his mouth is on yours again. In seconds, his mouth is devouring yours again, his hands feverishly roaming over your hips and ass.

Javi takes his hands away just long enough to shrug out of his suit jacket while you make quick work of removing his tie. He tries to pull the straps of your dress down, but they get stuck on your shoulders. Grunting in frustration, his hands try locating the zipper of your dress on your back.

You might have let him struggle a bit more simply for the fun of it, but your skin is on fire, desperate to feel more of him.

You pull your mouth away from his long enough to gasp, “On the side. Here,” and point to the thin zipper hidden in the ruched fabric.

“You’re lucky you said something, I was about to rip this thing off you,” Javi growls, making you giggle. “Does that amuse you, cariño? Making me suffer?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit with a small shrug, but your voice is breathless. He’s moved his mouth to your neck, where he licks a swath of skin across your fluttering pulse.

The zipper is finally down, and Javi tugs the straps of your dress and bra down at the same time, pinning your arms to your side and freeing your breasts.

“Jesus,” he breathes, taking in your exposed flesh. He pulls you up so you’re kneeling before him on the couch, your breasts level with his face. Leaning in, he stops just shy of one pebbled nipple, his hot exhalation warming your sensitive skin. Your hands itch to grab his hair and pull him in, but the suspense is delicious.

Javi palms your other breast and glides his thumb over the nipple, making you whimper. He lets out a strangled sound in his throat before latching his mouth onto the peaked bud in front of him, sending an electric current straight to your pulsing core.

Your head falls back with a gasp, and Javi pulls your body closer, moaning around your nipple. Javi is too engrossed in giving your other tit the same treatment to notice you straining at the straps of your dress and bra.

“Please,” you whimper. He pulls off your breast with a small pop and looks up at you, still massaging and caressing the flesh in each hand. His eyes are dark in the dim light of the living room, but you can see them glazed over with lust.

Javi watches you expectantly, waiting for you to voice your request.

“Please let me touch you.”

He smiles, giving you a small thrill.

“You asked so nicely.”

It's not the yes you wanted, so you wait. He leans in to kiss the tops of your breasts and traces a line up your clavicle with the tip of his tongue.

“Stand up, cariño.”

With his assistance you get up off the couch and face him, standing between his knees. The straps of your clothing are loose enough now to pull yourself free, but you wait for Javi to give his assent. He smiles softly at you from his seat on the couch, openly admiring your body on display for him.

“Take it off,” he instructs. “Slowly.”

You shed the form-fitting dress like a second skin, taking care to pull it down slowly and exaggerating the wiggle of your hips, before dropping it to the floor.

“The bra, too,” Javi amends, his breath coming out a bit labored. The bra joins the dress at your feet, and you kick the garments to the side, standing before Javi in only your panties.

You love seeing that he’s just as affected as you are. He rubs sweaty palms on his pant legs, and grips the edge of the couch cushion to keep from launching himself at you. He likes this game, too.

This is the feeling you missed – letting go of all your thoughts and worries, pleasing a partner so much by obeying simple commands, trusting that partner to not take advantage of the authority you allow them to have over you. This kind of power feels intoxicating and freeing all at once.

He lifts his hips slightly to adjust himself, and the small thrust draws your attention to his lap, your eyes widening at the clear bulge in his pants. A discoloration on the fabric, left there by your own arousal, is the only evidence of how this all started back at the gallery.

Standing there, nearly naked in front of a fully clothed man, even one with as commanding a presence as Javier Peña, doesn’t make you feel as vulnerable as you thought it might.

“Ah ah,” Javi tuts when he sees your fingers toying at the waistband of your last scrap of clothing. He gives his hard cock a squeeze with the hand in his lap, then draws a small circle in the air with one finger. “Turn around, hermosa.”

This is what makes you feel vulnerable, being unable to see Javi or know what he’s doing behind you. What you felt earlier when Javi stood behind you in the entryway of your apartment is nothing compared to the intensity of this moment.

The couch creaks, and you know he’s standing behind you – is it a change in the air pressure, or the heat emanating from his core?

Javi leaves mere centimeters separating your bodies, his breath the only sound you hear over the whooshing of your own heartbeat in your ears. Goosebumps spread again across your shoulders and down your spine, as though your skin is doing whatever it can to get closer to him. Tingles arc across your scalp, and you shut your eyes tight against the sensations your body conjures in the absence and anticipation of his touch.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you flinch a bit when he gently sweeps your errant locks to the side, careful not to make contact with your skin. An elusive tickle at the shell of your ear has you tilting your head to the side. The bristle of his mustache sweeps across the tender area as he speaks, low enough to bring a tremor to your sternum.

“Are you going to listen to me, cariño?”

Your mouth pops open into a small ‘O’, and you nod.

“Use your words, hermosa. I won’t tell you again.” There’s an edge in Javi’s voice, and you’re not sure if it’s the edge of authority or desperation.

The walls of your pussy grasp around nothing, and your clit throbs in time with your pulse. Digging fingernail crescents into your palms, you make fists at your sides and curl your toes into the plush rug under your feet.

“I–” Your mouth is dry and you swallow thickly to form the words he needs to hear. “I am. I’m going to listen to you.”

Javi wraps an arm around your middle, pinning you to the wall of his chest, as his other hand snakes down to cup your sex over your soaked panties. The sudden contact pulls a moan from deep in your throat and the relief makes you sag against him.

“I know you will.” The murmur in your ear is soft and warm, reassuring. The hand of the arm wrapped around you cups your breast, while the other presses the heel of its palm into your mound over your clit.

“Javi.” His name is an exhalation. “I need you.”

Your body has a mind of its own, and right now you are a slave to its impulses. Your hips move involuntarily, trying to rock into Javi’s hand, large enough to engulf your whole sex, then grind back onto his cock pressed hard against your ass.

“I know, I know.”

Javi’s words are both balm and incendiary. A small whine comes out of your mouth, and you press a hand over Javi’s, trying to increase the pressure over your clit.

“Mierda, cariño, you’re so eager.” He rolls your nipple between thumb and forefinger, giving it a pinch hard enough to make you gasp. “You better take me to bed, then.”

On unsteady feet, you lead Javi to the master bedroom. Standing at the side of your bed, you feel a bit bashful and unsure of what to do with yourself.

“Sit down.”

You obey and perch on the edge of the mattress, then wait for his next move. Javi saunters over, fingers going to his belt buckle, and stops in front of you. Your eyes flicker between his hands and his face, peering up at him through your eyelashes.

Javi palms himself through his pants and your mouth floods with saliva. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth and bite it a little to keep from drooling.

“So, this is it, huh?” He unbuckles the leather belt, then pulls it free from the loops around his slim waist in a single movement, catching you off guard.

“This…what?”

“This is your bed,” he reaches out and strokes your face, then holds your chin in his hand. “Where you let Pike fuck you.”

Abashed, you don’t answer right away, feeling the heat creep up your neck and bloom across your chest. You remember that Javi wants you to answer him, just the way Marcus did, by using your words.

“Yes, he fucked me in this bed.”

Javi strokes your chin with his thumb, then removes his hand to start unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes glaze over slightly, your breath feels shallow. Javi’s gaze feels hot on your skin, and you can see his pulse beating on the side of his neck.

Keeping your arms straight behind you, you put your tits on display, hoping to entice Javi to put his hands back on you. Spreading your knees apart, you want him to see the scrap of wet fabric covering your pussy.

He lets out a deep breath through his nose that’s almost a growl, and strips his shirt completely off over his head, not bothering to finish unbuttoning it. Javi stands there, gripping his cock over his pants.

“Show me.” His words rasp in the back of his throat.

Slowly, deliberately, you pull the gusset of your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him. Chest heaving, he doesn’t say anything for a few breaths.

“Lie down on the bed. Now.” Javi’s words have a bite to them, and you scurry to follow his command.

You scoot backwards towards the middle of the bed, not willing to take your eyes off the man for a second. Pulling the covers back, Javi helps you locate the fitted sheet and move the comforter out of your way. He palms his dick one more time before taking off his pants, eyes glued to the apex of your thighs.

“Take them off.”

Hooking your thumbs into the waistband, you lift your hips enough to slide your panties down, then kick them off the side of the bed. Unconsciously, your knees fall open more when Javi pulls his underwear off and you see his cock spring out of his boxers.

Javi fists his hard length and gives it a couple strokes, precum pearling at the tip. You swallow, wishing you could take him in your mouth and taste the saltiness.

“Touch yourself for me.” He sits on the side of the bed next to you, and his cock twitches in his hand. “Show me what makes that pretty pussy feel good, cariño.”

Settling back on the pillows, you slide your hand over your breast and abdomen, down over your mound to your weeping center. You’ve barely touched your swollen and tender folds before you let out a whimper.

“That’s it, querida,” Javi’s voice, filled with hunger, urges you on.

Dipping a finger into your core, you use your own slick to glide between your lips, your breath coming out in sharp huffs. Touching the bundle of nerves at the top of your slit is like touching a live wire. Using the flat pads of two fingers, you apply gentle pressure to your clit, gliding easily now with your abundant arousal, closing your eyes from the intensity.

A warm caress on the inside of your knee and thigh is Javi’s only touch, but it’s enough to make you moan and thrust your hips up into both your hand and his.

“So impatient,” he remarks. His tone doesn’t match his mocking words, and you open your eyes again to see him slowly stroking his cock as he watches your fingers.

“Javi, please.” Desperation laces your plea as you writhe into your hand, increasing the pressure on your clit. Using your other hand to play with your tits, you pinch and roll your nipples. “Please touch me.”

“Don’t stop touching yourself.”

Javi leans over to kiss your breasts and stomach, then moves to kneel between your feet, firmly grasping the base of his cock. He lays down between your thighs, adjusting his cock so it’s pinned between his body and the mattress.

“Please-please-please,” you whisper like a prayer.

“You sound so sweet when you beg.” He takes your fingers off your clit and sucks them into his mouth.

You wonder if his resolve has finally cracked, because he wastes no time pushing your hand out of the way and licking a thick stripe from dripping hole to pulsing clit.

“Fuck, Javi!” Your startled cry doesn’t deter him or slow him down, if anything it only spurs him on. He places a hand on the back of one knee and pushes your leg back, allowing his tongue easier access. The rumble of his deep, satisfied groan only adds fuel to the fire burning in the pit of your belly.

He turns his head to kiss and nibble at your inner thigh long enough to say, “Jesus, you taste better than I imagined,” before returning to lap at the flow of your arousal. The hair on his upper lip is a sharply contrasting sensation to the thick, languid stroke of his tongue on your oversensitive flesh.

Javi’s broad shoulders under your thighs push your body up the mattress with every eager thrust of his tongue. Reaching behind you with one hand to brace against the headboard provides a bit of resistance, giving you just enough traction to bump your clit against the arch of his nose. It’s not enough, though, you need more. In vain, you try lifting your hips up to meet Javi’s face.

A heavy arm wraps around your hip and pins you to the mattress. Whining in frustration, you look down to see Javi’s eyes trained on your face. Those large, dark orbs are fixed in a determined glare. Seeing them look up at you from between your thighs is a sight to behold.

Feeling bold, but mostly curious, you tentatively reach down and thread the fingers of your other hand through Javi’s thick hair. His eyes almost flutter closed for a moment, and the hand holding your leg back eases. You keep the knee bent, though, holding yourself open for him.

Jaw slack, you watch transfixed as Javi captures your clit between his lips that are wet and shiny with your own slick. He circles his tongue around the engorged bud, the very tip sliding gently under the hood and making your hips spasm up to his face, again and again.

Panting, eyes squeezed shut, you focus on the feeling of his tongue, bordering on too much. With Javi’s hair clutched in one fist, you cling with the other to the slats of the headboard and undulate up against his plump lips.

A thick finger prods gently at your opening, moving around to get the tip wet. Javi’s lips and tongue never leave your clit, and you resist the urge to pull his head into you by his hair, scared he’ll stop if you do.

The finger slips in, stopping at the first knuckle.

“You want me to fuck you, cariño?” Javi’s voice is rough. “Is that what you want?”

“Uh huh.” It comes out with a moan as the finger slips in all the way. “Hnh, shit…yes – yes, I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me.” The rest of the words tumble from your mouth.

“Then I’ve got to get you nice and ready for my cock.” He returns to giving your clit the attention it craves. Javi’s finger starts pumping in and out, stretching your walls around its thickness.

“Fuck...fuck,” you curse and moan in time with each thrust. The beginnings of your orgasm begin to unfurl deep inside.

Javi keeps moving his finger in and out of you until it’s sliding without resistance, then starts teasing your entrance with the tip of a second. With his other hand, he spreads your lips and holds you open.

“Christ, would you look at that?” You open your eyes to see Javi watching his two fingers sink into you, drawing out a moan from deep in your belly. “Fucking beautiful. Can’t wait to watch my cock split you open like this.”

You let go of Javi’s hair to grip the pillow under your head. You’re lifting your hips up in time to meet every thrust of his thick fingers.

You can’t tell what’s more obscene, the sounds coming from your mouth or from between your legs. Turning your face into the pillow, you try to muffle some of your moans.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby. I want to hear every fucking sound you make.”

“But,” you gasp, trying to form the words, “neighbors…”

“I want them to hear how good I make you feel, too.” He keeps his fingers buried to the knuckle inside you and crooks them just right, making you arch your back and moan.

“Thaaat’s it, let me hear you.” Tension coils, your pussy clenching down on the continuous movement of his fingers pumping and curling.

“Relax for me, cariño. I’ll never fit my cock inside you if you keep squeezing my fingers like that.”

The filth spilling from his mouth has got you wound up so tight, it’s a wonder he can still move his fingers at all. He sucks your clit back between his lips, but your hips are bucking so hard he can’t keep a good hold on it. Instead, he drips saliva at the top of your slit, then spreads it with his thumb, around and around, letting your rolling hips determine the pace and pressure.

“Javi,...I’m–fuck, I’m getting close.”

“Is this how he got you ready? Hm? Would he make you cum first on his fingers and tongue?”

“Wha– unh, god.” What the fuck is he saying? Your mind is so fuzzy, the pleasure leaving almost no room for thought or reason.

“I bet he would. I bet he’d get you nice and wet, then work you open for his cock.”

He’s asking about Marcus again, you realize. You feel the mattress shift and realize Javi’s rutting into the mattress in time with your hips. Knowing how turned on Javi is, it’s almost enough to tip you over the edge right then.

“Yes, he– he made me cum first.”

“Hard?”

“Yes! God, Javi, that feels so good – please don’t stop.” You’re white-knuckling the pillow and headboard, getting closer to the edge, the pleas falling from your lips without thought.

“He must have been something, for you to still be hung up on him. Still hungry for his cock.”

Javi spits again, more lewdly this time in his excitement, and increases the pressure of his thumb over your clit.

“Fuck, I feel it – I know you’re getting close, cariño.” Javi’s hips keep rocking into the mattress. “Are you going to cum for me?”

Your breath comes out in gasps, you can only nod in response, eyes shut tight.

“That’s it, hermosa, cum for me.” Javi’s words have you teetering on the edge. “Cum for me so I can give you my cock.”

With that final push, your fluttering walls spasm and pulse around Javi’s fingers, and he works you through it, groaning as he watches you writhing on his hand.

Javi doesn’t even let the final shudders or your orgasm subside before he’s licking your cum off his fingers like an indulgent dessert. He gives your mound a kiss, then your belly, ribs, and breasts, getting on his knees between your thighs and leaning over you, murmuring praise in a heady mixture of English and Spanish.

“That was so good, cariño, you were so good. Eres tan bonita, y sabes pinche dulce.” Leaning on one elbow, he traces your lips with the fingers that were inside you.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” You nod, opening your mouth and licking the tip of one finger. Javi slips it past your lips, he lets out a sigh and says, “I’m going to have a lot of fun with that mouth.”

Moaning, you begin sucking eagerly at his fingers, showing him what he could look forward to. He fucks them into your mouth a few times before pulling them out, much to your disappointment.

“Another time, cariño. I need to be in that sweet pussy now.”

Javi kisses you deeply, the taste of your cum mingling on your tongues. His mustache is wet with your slick, and you run the tip of your tongue along the ridge of his upper lip, the hairs tickling. He shudders and pulls away with a low grunt.

“Condoms?” Is all he can get out in between ravishing your neck and breasts with kisses.

“Drawer.” You gesture weakly to your nightstand, running your fingers through his hair. He stretches to pull the drawer open and pulls out the unopened box of condoms you’ve had there since you moved into the apartment.

“A brand new box, just for me?” His tone is teasing as he sits back on his knees. He tears the box open and rips off a condom from the strip, tossing the rest back in the drawer.

“Um–” You get distracted watching him fist his cock. With a clearer head after your orgasm, you finally have the wherewithal to notice he’s thick and uncut. Biting your bottom lip, you think about how much fun you’ll have with him in your hands and mouth once he gives you the chance.

“Cariño?” Javi fixes you with an authoritative eye that makes your stomach flip.

“It’s not new, exactly. I just haven’t needed to open it yet.”

He looks at you curiously, and you start feeling a bit anxious.

“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex since you moved here?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you say, “It’s not like I haven’t tried.”

Feeling a bit self-conscious, you look away and pull your knees together slightly. Javi’s hand on your thigh stops you. His eyes have softened.

Javi settles between your thighs, bracing himself while he leans down and kisses you slowly. His chest is firm under your hands, and the steady beat of his heart feels grounding. He places light kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“The last time you had a cock inside you,” he pauses to take a breath, “was with Pike?”

You give a small nod, both of you breathing so heavily your chests press into one another on inhalation. Javi pulls back to look at you, his eyes shifting between yours and keeping you in focus.

“Can I fuck you bare, cariño?”

He’s not asking this lightly, and you know without him having to say that he will gladly accept whatever is your decision. You clench at the prospect of feeling all of Javi inside you and nod vigorously.

“Yes.”

Javi kisses you deeply and holds your face in one hand, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Thank you for trusting me,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice deep and a bit rough. You know he’s trusting you just as much.

You continue to kiss, your hands running across his shoulders and upper back, then into his hair again. He groans into your mouth as you stroke your fingers through his thick locks.

You tilt your hips and spread your legs a bit wider, opening yourself up for him. Balancing himself on one arm, he guides the head of his cock between your folds, then slides it slowly up and down a few times, gathering your slick. You’re so wet, he’ll have no trouble entering you.

“Javi...”

“I know, I know.” Javi presses the head of his cock at your entrance and groans. “Are you ready to take my cock, cariño?”

He sits back on his knees to watch your response, his breath short and labored from holding back when you know all he wants is to plunge all the way inside you with one thrust. You roll your hips up, moaning as the tip of his swollen cock head nudges inside you. Javi grunts and pulls back a bit, gripping onto your hip.

“Fuck, look at you – you can’t wait to feel my cock filling you up.”

“Please, Javi. Please give me your cock. I need it,” you beg breathlessly.

“That’s my girl, tell me what you need,” Javi soothes his hand over your flesh, rocking his hips forward and slipping just an inch inside you, then back out. In and out, until the head is fully inside.

“I need your cock.” He pushes a bit more inside you each time he rocks his hips, caressing your belly and breasts with his other hand. “I need you to fuck me with your cock.”

“You’re still so tight, baby.” Javi huffs through flared nostrils, gritting his teeth, barely holding himself back.

“Javi, please–” Your whine chokes off with a sob as he plunges forward with a grunt.

“Fuuuuuck,” he rasps, pulling out half way, then burying himself fully in your cunt. “Is that what you needed, cariño?�� He thrusts, watching his cock disappearing inside you again.

“Yes,” you whisper, letting your head fall back limply onto the pillow.

“Are you happy now that you have my cock?” Javi’s keeping his thrusts slow, but full and deep. He’s breathing heavily from his pent up lust, still not fully letting himself go.

“Yes.” The stretch of him inside you was mind numbing.

“I knew you’d be good at taking my cock, baby. You’re opening up so well for me.” Javi hooks one of your legs over his arm. “You ready for me to really fuck you now?”

“Yes, Javi – fuck me, please.”

Javi’s hips start picking up their pace, snapping forward to fill your pussy. For a few moments, you and Javi are lost to the sensations, moaning in unison every time he bottoms out inside you.

“You feel so good wrapped around my cock, hermosa.” His grip on the leg over his arm tightens. You pull your other leg back, allowing him even deeper and he swears. “I can feel your pussy sucking me in.”

He leans over, holding himself up with a hand beside your head. The change in the angle makes you gasp and clench around him.

“Mírame – look at me, cariño.”

Javi is a vision above you with his forehead furrowed and mouth open.

“What did he call you?” He slows his thrusts. “Hm? What did Pike call you when he was fucking you?”

You look at him with wide eyes, mouth agape. He smiles, and slows almost to a stop.

“Dimelo…” He grinds his hips into you, making you whine. “Tell me – now.”

“I was his good girl.” Your pussy walls contract involuntarily with your confession, making Javi moan.

“Fuck,” he starts thrusting again, “I bet you were so good for him. Were you?”

“Yes. Yes, I was his good girl.” Javi moves the leg over his arm up to his shoulder, holding onto it for leverage as he fucks into you.

“And what did you call him when you were his good girl?” His words come out a bit unevenly. Javi waits for your response, but you’re distracted by how deep his cock is.

A swift but light slap lands on your tit. “Answer me.”

You gasp, but he has your attention now, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“I called him Sir.”

“Mierda, you’re drenching my cock right now. I bet you’re thinking about how his cock felt in your tight pussy, how it filled and stretched you.”

“Oh, god–” You brace your arms over your head, using the headboard for resistance against the onslaught of Javi’s thrusts.

Thoughts of Marcus and Javi swim together, the memory of Marcus’ touch with the reality of Javi’s. The walls of your pussy begin to flutter as your second orgasm of the night starts to build.

Javi’s heavy breathing is surpassed by the sound of his thighs and balls slapping against your ass with every thrust.

“Well, if you were his good girl, then you’re my slutty little princesa. You’re my little whore. Me entiendes?”

“Yes, yes – I understand.” Your eyes are practically rolling into the back of your head when you feel Javi suddenly stop and pull out. Gasping, your eyes fly open in shock. He’s panting, and his neck glistens, flushed a beautiful shade of crimson with the veins prominently standing out.

“Roll over – c’mon, on your knees.” You obey, desperate to have his cock buried in you once again.

“Hands up here, flat.” He taps the headboard. His commands are light and natural, easy to follow.

“If you’re going to be my little whore, I’m going to fuck you like one.”

Assuming the position, Javi uses a knee to nudge your shaking legs wider, then pulls your ass back so you’re bent slightly over.

“So what are you going to call me, huh?” He smooths your hair back off your face, sweaty at your temples, and gathers it loosely in his fist. He gives it a gentle tug, prompting you to answer his question.

“I don’t know,” you gasp, and arch into his touch as he smoothes a hand over your ass. He guides his cock and slides back into your cunt in a single thrust, making the headboard sway close to the wall.

“I said keep your hands flat,” he reminds you, and gives your ass a small smack for good measure.

Your fingers flex, and you spread them wide, straightening your elbows for balance. His free hand fondles your breasts one at a time, kneading them before pinching your nipples.

“C’mon, princesa,” he urges, voice low behind your ear as he starts fucking you again. Your head gets tugged back by your hair in his fist at the nape of your neck as he fucks you harder. The angle of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, making your eyes roll back.

“What are you going to call me when I’m fucking you like my little slut?” His hot tongue licks over your pulse point. The filthy words spilling out of his mouth are making you dizzy. “Huh? When I’m pounding this pussy so good, you can’t fucking help yourself?”

“Daddy.”

It comes out in a soft, timid whimper.

Javi smacks your ass with a stinging hand and growls in your ear, “Louder.”

“Daddy!”

“Theeere it fucking is.” Javi groans deeply in satisfaction, then licks his fingers and rubs them over your clit in time with his thrusts. “What a good little whore, taking Daddy’s cock so well.”

He lets go of your hair to grip your shoulder where it meets your neck, pulling you back onto his cock. There is no way your neighbors can’t hear the noises coming from your mouth now. You’ve completely surrendered over to Javi, and you’re certain that if he were to take his hands away you’d fall over lifeless like a doll.

“Daddy, I’m close.”

The intensity of Javi’s hands, cock, and filthy mouth is so overwhelming, you can barely get the words out.

“Are you going to cum on Daddy’s cock, princesa?” Javi’s voice is ragged, his hips stuttering.

“Imagine what he’d say – unh – if he saw you like this – absolutely wrecked, being someone else’s fuck toy.”

He must be getting close too as his cock throbs inside you, his pace faltering.

The thought of Marcus watching you get railed by Javi has you on the very brink. You can’t hold back the moans now and Javi increases the pressure and speed of his fingers over your clit. Your cunt spasms, and his cock throbs in response.

“Mierda, you’re choking my dick. Damelo, princesa – give it to me, cum for Daddy.”

Your orgasm rips through you like a freight train, all while Javi talks and fucks you through it.

“Fuuuck, yes – that’s it, cum all over Daddy’s cock. You’re squeezing me so tight.”

Javi’s thrusts slow during your most intense spasms, and the fingers on your clit still, but maintain their pressure. You ride it out, reaching back to stroke Javi’s hair while you spasm around him.

Your head begins to loll a bit, exhaustion setting in after the two mind-melting orgasms. He wraps his arms around you, then slowly lowers your upper body onto the mattress, draping his body over yours. You hug a pillow to your chest, supporting yourself while he starts fucking into you, slow and deep.

“What a good little slut.” He grunts softly in your ear each time his cock bottoms out inside you, fucking little whimpers out of you with every thrust.

“So good for Daddy.” Javi kisses your neck and the back of your shoulder. “You took Daddy’s cock so well, gonna give you my cum.” He’s beginning to get a bit breathless, his thighs shaking, thrusts getting erratic.

In this position, you’re able to reach a hand back and spread your fingers on either side of his cock as it moves. A bit further, and you’re grazing his balls every so lightly and feel them beginning to tighten and retract.

“Unh – fuck, yeah…” Javi groans through gritted teeth, then nips lightly at your shoulder making you gasp.

“Daddy, please cum for me. I want your cum. Please give it to me.”

You’re babbling, your senses focused solely on the sound of Javi’s labored breathing, the feel of his cock twitching inside you, chasing that high with him.

“Where do you want Daddy’s cum, princesa?” His words are strained now. He rises back up onto his knees, supporting himself with a hand between your shoulder blades.

“Anywhere you want, Daddy.” You contract the walls of your cunt around him for emphasis and he moans.

“Fuck, baby, don’t tempt me, I’m so close… But I think I want something else.” He grabs the globes of your ass with both hands, squeezing them, pulling them apart to see everything.

“You ever let Pike fuck your ass?”

You involuntarily clench around Javi. You and Marcus had certainly discussed it, experimented a little, but he’d never fucked you there.

“No...”

“Mmm, good. Then I’m gonna paint that ass with my cum. Esta cosa es mía ahora. It’s fucking mine.”

Eyes wide, you stretch your neck to watch Javi over your shoulder as he starts fucking you at a frenetic pace. His face, neck, and chest are flushed and gleaming with sweat. His brow is furrowed deep in concentration, teeth bared into a grimace. He lands a rough slap on your ass that makes you moan.

“Yes, Daddy – my ass is yours, only yours.”

“That’s right, princesa – all mine,” he wheezes.

Just when you think he’s about to burst inside you, Javi pulls out and starts furiously jerking his cock. Thick ropes of cum land in stripes across your ass and lower back, each spasm pulling a deep, breathy moan from him. He takes deep gulps of air into his lungs, milking every last drop of cum.

Clenching around nothing, you moan with the pleasure of bringing him to release. You’re secretly thrilled at seeing Javi brought to this degree of vulnerability.

Javi leans over and licks a small drop of cum that landed on the swell of your cheek. He bites the flesh then sucks, letting go with a pop. It’s done without inhibition or hesitation, just an impulsive, erotic claim of your body.

“Next time, princesa,” he pauses to smear the pooling cum lightly over your asshole, “I’m going to watch that beautiful face when I make you cum on Daddy’s cock.”

“Mm, I’d like that,” you say softly, and close your eyes, the adrenaline waning. Staying still for a moment, you take a deep breath, enjoying the familiar, empty ache between your thighs that can only come after an amazing fuck.

You start to lower your legs to lie in a prone position, but Javi wraps his arms around you as support, lowering you gently to the mattress.

“I’ve got you, cariño.”

You’re vaguely aware of Javi stepping into the en suite bathroom and returning with a warm wet washcloth. He gently wipes you clean and fixes the covers.

A few moments later, you feel the mattress shift as he climbs into bed next to you. Strong arms pull you into a warm embrace. A light kiss to your forehead tickles with the soft hairs of Javi’s mustache.

Sighing, you roll your body against his, resting your head on his shoulder and draping an arm across his chest. He smooths your hair off your forehead and brushes a soft kiss to your head, stroking your arm. With the steady rise and fall of Javi’s chest, the last thing you remember before drifting off is his whispered, “Sweet dreams, cariño.”

~*~*~*~

Javi doesn’t even crave a cigarette. And he can’t remember the last time he stuck around this long after sleeping with someone. Once you fall asleep in his arms, he doesn't want to risk waking you, and there is no way in hell he’s going to sneak out on you.

He reasons that he’ll relax for a bit, then wake you up to say goodbye. But the feel of you in his arms is better than he let himself indulgently imagine these past few weeks. The softness of your curves, the weight of your head on his shoulder; the implicit trust you placed in him this evening, and the ease with which you fell asleep with him holding you…

It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep too. At some point in the night he stirs, and realizes you’re out of bed, but doesn’t know what time it is. The apartment is dark now, and the only light comes peeking out from the bottom of the bathroom door. Groaning, he stretches his legs, knowing the soreness in his knees will plague him for the next couple days.

The light in the bathroom flicks off and the door opens, creaking a little. Your nude form appears, lit only by the ambient light coming through the window from the streetlamps. You pad softly across the carpet and he whispers a soft, “Hey,” so you know he’s awake. You jump just slightly then smile in relief.

“Hey, yourself,” you whisper in return, then walk to the other side of the bed and climb in.

“What time is it?” Javi rolls to face you and props his head on his hand.

“Late – or early, depending on how you look at it.”

Javi leans over to kiss your lips, then your forehead, trailing the tip of his nose down yours. You hum in that way he’s already familiar with, making him smile.

“How late-or-early?”

“Three-ish.” You kiss him, muffling his surprise.

“Shit, I didn’t mean to fall asleep that long. Sorry.” Javi is about to make his excuses to leave, before you speak again.

“We better go back to sleep now. The debrief is early and I want to get up in time to bring something in for the team.”

Yawning, you roll away from him and drag his arm around you. Javi smirks, and settles in to spoon your body with his own.

“I guess I don’t need to ask what your rule is about sleeping over, then?” He kisses the back of your shoulder and you press back into him.

“Shut up and go to sleep, Javi.”

“Okay, cariño.”

Chapter 9 - Coming Soon!

Additional Author’s Note: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely comments and reblogs! I can’t tell you how much they mean to me. As always, I would love-love-love to know what you think. I really want to become a better writer, so any and all feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading! 💜

No-Pressure Taglist: @kilamonster @half-moon16 @for-a-longlongtime @pedroswife69 @pedroshotwifey @angiewatson @morallyinept @peepawispunk @i-wanna-be-your-muse @marysucks-blog @guelyury @connectioneverywhere @sunshinehaze1 @drewharrisonwriter @venturawriter @survivingandenduring @thetriumphantpanda

#rumor has it fic #senorabond writes #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #javi x reader x pike #javier pena x reader #javi peña #javier pena smut #javier peña #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #smutty smut smut

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heathersdesk · 3 months

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One of my favorite follows on TikTok is Reverend Oliver, a trans pastor in West Virginia whose whole thing is trying to teach leftist people how to shed their worst impulses and inclinations to be better members of their communities. He is a firm advocate for genuine connection, leftist cooperation and community building with those on the right, and the kind of activism that is truly transformative and leaves no one behind.

He made a post, in an ongoing conversation about ways for leftists to identify opportunities to connect with their larger communities, that listed some of the fronts where leftists need to consider society's unmet needs. He included child care and elder care on that list. He also included addiction recovery resources.

Seeing an opportunity for the kind of interfaith connection he's always talking about, I pointed out that the LDS Church has free addiction recovery programs that anyone in the public is invited to attend, regardless of religious affiliation. And unlike other resources like the bishop's storehouse, no interaction with ecclesiastical leadership is necessary or expected. You can just show up, get support, and leave without any expectation of obligation, financial or otherwise, to our church. And honestly, a healthy dose of reality for the program from voices outside of our own community might temper some of the attitudes in our own community about pornography and compulsive masturbation being equivalent to an addiction.

So tell me why a random ex-Mormon took it upon themselves to begin an argument with me in Rev. Oliver's comments about the LDS Church leadership and past animosity towards queer people, that it isn't a safe space for them, that all queer people are forced into conversion therapy (which is false), and people show up in ARP with things that aren't even addictions.

Even after I told that person I'm queer affirming, that I believe these are things the Church can and does need to change, that I have actively been working on those improvements through my church membership since Prop 8, they just kept going. I became the dumpster for their unresolved anger towards the institution, even though I'm a total stranger and have nothing to do with anything they were complaining about. I have never put any queer people into conversion therapy and never would. I'm not Dallin H. Oaks and never tortured queer people at BYU. I think the Church has many sins it needs to answer for in relation to its treatment of queer people. At no point did I disagree or argue against anything that was true. For all intents and purposes, this person and I probably agree about a lot of things.

So why were they still attacking me? I'm actively trying to improve what upsets them without invalidating any of their feelings, and they're still upset with me. Why? What more do they want from me?

I find myself in this position with ex-Mormons all the time. With a tenure on Mormon Twitter that went from 2009-2023, I've seen every form and progression of ex-Mormon sentiment that could ever possibly exist. Especially because I left the Church for a time and did so with heartbreaks of my own. They don't know this when they approach me because they have no idea who I am, and I don't expect them to. But the irony is never lost on me that we could honestly be besties if they would shut and stop making assumptions about me long enough to hear what I'm saying.

And I mean that with my whole chest, and with all the self-recrimination that comes with it: ex-Mormons engage people in fights when they have no intentions of listening, achieving understanding, or engaging in constructive resolution with anyone in relation to the Church. They use people for emotional catharsis, and that's all they want from these interactions. I'm just supposed to sit there and take it. That's what they want. That's what they expect. And when I refuse to engage in the process as a receptacle for their disregulated emotions and the shame they want to make me feel, they get mad at me for not giving them what they wanted from me.

They don't see me as a person. They don't respect me or the work I do. They don't actually want to see the Church grow or improve beyond the ways it hurt them in the past because it means the Church and its people were always capable of doing that, just not for them. And they aren't prepared to feel or confront any of that, emotionally or spiritually. All they've ever wanted is a real apology and real change, but when it happens—when someone from the Church genuinely apologizes to them and tells them they deserved better, as I always do—it's not emotionally satisfying at all. The skies don't part, angels don't sing, and they don't feel any better.

It's like that scene from Malcolm in the Middle where Lois finally apologizes to Francis for being abusive to him when he's not expecting it, he freaks out because he had built up what that apology would look like and what it would accomplish in his mind, and he gets mad at Lois for ruining the fantasy in his mind. She doesn't know what to do, so she asks him if $20 would help. He takes the money in a state of confusion, but clearly still doesn't feel any better because it also doesn't help.

So I'm going to say the same thing here that I did there, for when this inevitably happens here: I'm not going to apologize for trying to make the Church a better, safer place for everyone. I'm not going to apologize for my association with the institutional Church, despite its failures and imperfections. I have made peace with my place here, the good I do, the impact I have, and the changes I am making. This is my church too, and despite what people think, there's room for me here. And as long as I'm here, the Church is a better and safer place for marginalized people because I've committed to making it that way. I don't expect anyone to stay when it's safest and healthiest for them to go, but I'm not going to join them. I already tried that and it was a waste of time for me.

If someone decides to place the validation of their choice to leave the Church on my refusal to go with them, that's not my problem. I don't owe anyone that. And their choice to do that doesn't entitle them to use me as an emotional jizz tissue for their anger at (and grief for) the institutional Church and other people in it I've never even met. Put it in a journal or take it to a therapist you pay for. Don't hand it to me, then get offended when I hand it back to you. It's not mine. If you don't want the nasty end results of your emotional outburst, what makes you think I do?

All of this to say to ex-Mormon folks who do this: have some self-reflection. Do you do this to people? Is it healthy? Does it accomplish any of your goals? Is it helping you to become the person you envisioned you would be when you left the Church? Have you fully formed in your mind who that person is? Have you fully and appropriately grieved for everyone and everything you lost? If not, what impact is that choice having on the rest of your life? And should you be doing something about it instead of arguing with me?

Again, don't tell me. Put it in a journal. Tell a therapist. Or, even better, tell the person who actually hurt you. Because telling me isn't going to make you feel better. And you may not realize this yet, but it's tremendously difficult to be me, too. I'm the one telling your parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, neighbors, classmates, colleagues, co-workers, and other people in your life at Church that they need to treat you better—how to do it and what it looks like. You need me. What I do is important. It's also exhausting. And if you use up all of my energy in an argument with you, how am I going to do it? Do you think about that? Do you think about what it costs me to be the person you've already decided it's too exhausting for you to be?

I say this with all the love and encouragement I have: either help me or get out of my way. But don't make my job harder. Why would you do that? It doesn't serve you, me, or anyone else. It just makes you look bitter, makes me less effective at creating the changes you want, and all Mormons (former and current) look like we don't have our shit together. Because this isn't new. Every religious tradition on this planet has had to struggle and figure out how to create space for marginalized people. Every branch of Christianity has had to figure out their relationship to their own queer people, to stop actively hurting them and to embrace them instead. You're a part of this transition, even once you leave, by whether or not you perpetuate this animosity with people who stay. We all have to put down our weapons. The fighting will continue as long as anyone anywhere is still throwing punches.

If you're an ex-Mormon, be the best one there is. Be unbothered and totally disengaged from the Church and its problems. Create the life of your dreams with nothing from the past in it, if that's what you need. When the people in your life direct coercion and manipulation at you in relation to your spirituality and church disaffiliation, return to sender. Be so busy being your own best self, you don't have time for any of this.

That's what you deserve. That's what I want for you. That's what many in the Church who stay want for you, because we're not all selfish pricks who get our jollies from forced homogeneity and making people suffer. That's not even the majority of us. It's the people you're actually mad at. Stop treating us like we're all guilty by association. Have the courage to put the dog turd of your displeasure on their porch where it belongs, not mine.

#ex mormon #exmormon #exmo stuff #mormon #lds #mormonism #tumblrstake #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #queerstake

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meichenxi · 2 months

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Hanzi update (+accidental trauma talk)

tw illness, trauma, vomiting, weight loss, recovery. I didn't plan to write about this but because of what happened in the last year I can't really write about how I studied Chinese without talking about it. so. but it's mainly about hanzi lol

I've been learning how to write traditional characters with the vague idea that I'd go and study in Taiwan, and also that if I want to write Classical Chinese or Japanese they're far more useful - but the program I want to go to Taiwan for requires HSK7, which I DO not think I can achieve and have the results of before March. Who knows! Perhaps within me lies untold brilliance and dedication!!

...well, I wouldn't rely on it. (I am also busy with a job, a partner, studying an A-level course to begin tutoring it in September, and writing the second draft of my novel.)

And even if I ended up going to Taiwan with my absolutely fantastic HSK7, there's no way I could handwrite all of those words within a year. If I learn 10 characters a day, that's like 3650 characters in a year, but realistically that will never happen - and you still have to actually remember them.

I also know from my last experience where I learnt a stupid amount of characters very quickly (about 800 in two weeks) that I can technically do it, I have a very large swollen brain, but then the brain, being very large and very swollen, promptly burns out. And leaves me to not do any Chinese again for like two months. So basically - completely pointless, because after those two months of rest I had forgotten most of them anyway. I will not be doing that again.

This time around I have been slowly, very slowly, learning things on Skritter. I have about 400 characters so far. I'm not doing words but doing characters, which is a bit slower, but I figure it'll be more useful in the long run. After I have the first 1000, I'm planning to then systematically go through the HSK and TOCFL lists and check I know how to put characters together and which 'jing' is used in 'yijing' etc.

This approach is only really going to work because I know a lot of vocabulary and can read a lot of stuff already - otherwise I wouldn't recommend to anybody without that backbone of vocabulary to just learn random isolated characters, unless you're masochistic or much harder-core than I am.

As I have said in a lot of posts before, I had a very difficult experience in China last August and have basically taken an entire year off studying because in all honesty I just couldn't bring myself to face the language again. Every time I tried I had this crazy grief and nightmares and stress response. What I went through was so stressful that during those two months in China that I lost seven kilograms, as I couldn't eat much without vomiting it back up due to stress and fear, didn't sleep, and ended up having to leave for Thailand pretty severely malnutritioned - which then made me susceptible to illnesses there and I spent the next two months after with awful health, vomiting and weak and generally sick. Luckily I was with friends and I gained the weight again and my period and digestive system sorted itself out.

And I never expected that a language itself could carry trauma? Like. Nobody died, it wasn't like that, I wasn't abused or assaulted or anything but still...for just under a year, every time I spoke or heard or read Chinese I couldn't help thinking of those two months. Even now it's still hard. I'm finding my way back to it but, to be honest, I didn't expect how hard it would be. I thought I could just - move past it, because I'd already had so many great experiences in China and Taiwan and with Chinese, that they would cancel each other out or at least be aided by the huge amounts of love that the language has shown me. Alas, it was not the case.

Anyway. All of that to say - I have only managed to do about 400 characters in a year, because I essentially gave up studying completely.

Now I've just finished reviewing and re-remembering those 400 characters on Skritter, so I'm ready to start again! I don't know what's changed, I guess just time - I feel more positive, I feel curious and interested about the language again. I don't know. I'm not going to question it too deeply. But for these past two weeks, I've been having a lot of fun :)

I'll update everyone on my progress as I go! Next post - 500.

#meichenxi manages #langblr #lingblr #who is still around learning chinese from the old gang?? say hiiiiiii #this is a complete mess lol but basically. I have finished 400 characters in review on skritter #I'm essentially a god #梅晨曦下凡了！！！#凡间有那么多好吃的我还是留下来吧！

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baejax-the-great · 4 months

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Haven't watched bridgerton but saw your tags & they made me laugh 😂 Perhaps she was just pretending to be out for five days. Like 'finally some peace and quiet'. Bonk

Spoilers for season 2 of Bridgerton, I guess.

Here is how it goes. She is on a horse. She is good at riding horses, as she's demonstrated repeatedly throughout the season. It is raining. Her suitor/lover/ex/whatever shows up and her horse rears in response, dumping her from the saddle. She falls to the ground and does not get up. Suitor checks on her and discovers 1. she's out cold and 2. She is bleeding from the back of her head.

He brings her to her home. She does not wake up during this time. She does not wake up for days. I don't know that the number of days was specified, but it seems to be around four or five.

She wakes up. She immediately recognizes her sister. She says she feels fine. She remembers the ride in the rain and falling from her horse. She is immediately concerned about whether her suitor came to visit her while she was sleeping and not, you know, the life threatening concussion she just had.

Friends, this woman is dead. She is not among the living. She is passed on. Bereft of life, she rests in peace. If someone sustains a head injury and is not somewhat conscious again in like 30 minutes, there is a strong possibility they will never be conscious again (especially without the interventions of modern medicine--neurosurgery is needed for severe injuries).

There is no button on your head that if you push it hard enough, you get a nice nap that lasts a random amount of time. That's not what a concussion is. It's brain damage. You don't just get a concussion and "sleep it off." In fact, if you see someone get a concussion and they decide they really want to go to sleep, it is your duty to 1. keep them awake and 2. get them to a fucking emergency room.

Now they didn't have emergency rooms in Bridgerton, but that doesn't matter, because she's dead. She died. She's pushing up the daisies. Four days. FOUR DAYS. But let's say a miracle occurred and she's not dead.

She almost definitely would not remember her injury. That memory was knocked the fuck out of her brain before it could be stored away and 2. probably the morning ride was forgotten, too and 3. she might even lose the preceding few days if she hit her head that hard and 4. she would absolutely be suffering from brain damage, because that's what a concussion is. It's brain damage. You bruise your brain and neurons die and you hope it wasn't very many or it wasn't any important ones (they are all important that is your BRAIN).

Kate would be left with anything from blurry vision and trouble concentrating to having to learn how to walk or talk again. She could have gone blind or deaf. She would almost definitely have one hell of a headache. She would not be spinning about the dance floor that evening because she would be too dizzy and uncoordinated for that shit and she would be for days if not weeks if not permanently. Even in a moderate case with eventual full recovery, post-concussion syndrome can last for months, and it sucks.

I am TIRED of shows using brain damage like it's a tiny lil nap. Just knock someone out and then you can sneak past them/skip the plot ahead hours/have them languish in bed for days and not feel guilty for it. It doesn't work like that. Bonking your head and going to sleep for four hours is a life-threatening life-altering situation, and not a "tee hee we snuck past the enemies without having to kill anyone!"

#if you really want someone to languish in bed give them a virus #or shit give them something life threatening if your story has magic or some shit #but if you are in the real world yeah no fucking brain damage isn't this harmless thing you wake up from refreshed #anyway wear helmets don't play american football etc etc #bridgerton #I guess lmao #like the costumes thing i don't care about because this show is already so historically inaccurate and random #I consider it more of an AU than a historical fiction #so they can wear whatever they want #but brain damage is still real unless someone specifies 'actually in the ton our brains are made of steel'

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jeynearrynofthevale · 1 year

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Just watched the Connor McDavid: Whatever it Takes documentary and my main takeaway is that he’s insane but here are a bunch of random notes and pics:

““If it was up to my mom, we probably would’ve been a skiing family”

The drive, that’s who he is, he’s always been that way, since he was probably 3 or 4, he refused to let his parents help him get dressed and he would carry his bag everywhere, the bag was bigger than he was

“He’s intense and he’s competitive”

Bobby Orr said when he was 15 that he was gonna be the greatest skater to ever play

Tracy Wilson: Olympian and skating coach “what I love about Connor is it’s all about power, doesn’t matter how it looks, it’s about getting there”

Kassian “we haven’t seen a player like that in the game in maybe forever”

McDavid “at the end of the day, you’re still playing an nhl game, but that’s not much to hang your hat on” in reference to being out of the playoffs

“Right on the post square and I just felt the pain right away, thought I’d just broken my leg into a couple pieces”

They keep replaying him going into the net at top speed and it’s fucking horrible to watch

He whispered to me “I think it’s broke”- Kassian

“I was having flashbacks to Stamkos’s energy and I know stammer really well”

Stamkos texted therapist: “did he break his tibia?”

“If I could do it all over again, you’d like to take it back”- giordano

Team physical therapist asked if he could move his leg and told him he could either try to get up or call the gurney. Connor said “no, no, no” and stood up even though he was worried and thought his leg was going to give out”

“I held it together until we got though the tunnel and then I was just a mess” it took them 10 minutes to get back to the room

He said “stop, just give me a second”

3 guys had to hold him up the way back

Lauren “it was really hard when he called me, he just said “I think I broke my leg””

Brian “he was really upset and in pain, as a parent it’s hard”

Kelly: “it’s the worst thing in the world”

“Maybe in hindsight it would’ve been better if it was broken”

Never realized the infamous scene where Leon squeezes Connor in the hallway is from this.

Grade 2 strain of his pcl

“Hey dad, just want you to know I’m going for a second opinion in Colorado Springs”

Doctor told him it was a full pcl tear where tears on bth sides of his miniscus, “tore the popliteus right of the bone”

Full reconstruction of the knee, pcl, and popliteus would require a year recovery, doctor said he needed to do it asap, within a few day

“He was distraught, very, very under described”

His mom wanted him to have the surgery

Surgical intervention is to give it stability back

Had to make decision in 48hrs about whether or not to operate.

“He was very emotional and it was very difficult for him to talk.”

3rd opinion in LA: 2nd doctor is right about the issues but thinks the surgery is risky and doesn’t believe in it, wants to try to rehab it

Had to make that decision at 22 in 24 hours

Pcl cut right in half, back of knee joint completely torn, popliteus also completely torn, lateral and medial meniscus are both torn, crack in front of tibia from where he hit the post

“Hockey is my life”

He wanted to hear that he didn’t need surgery

His rehab guy literally lived with him

7 days a week, 10 hrs a day

50% chance to get him maybe skating again by end of summer

He was in a hyperbaric chamber daily for 40 days, 2 hours at a time

Claustrophobic in a literal tube

“At one point, doctor cleared him to flex his quad muscle”

They had to keep the injury as secret as possible, didn’t tell Ken Holland how bad it was

He would call his mom right after every mri appointment

He was in the pool all the time working on his knee

While rehabbing, his core specialist was like “might as well work on everything while we’re stuck here” and they worked on his core, pelvic floor, rotational movement, spine, everything

Gymnastics coach also helped

Didn’t want him to skate till September

He went on the ice with just his dad on his doc’s recommendation before September

He was so happy to be back on the ice with his father, completely changed emotionally that day

You can really see how much he loves just skating

He was so happy to know that even if he couldn’t fully heal he could still go on with the brace and skate

He’s so smooth in these skating exercises while in an insane brace

“One thing to be out there playing the game but another to do it at the level he was capable of”

Tracy Wilson did in their own words “edging” with him for afternoons, taking him through all sorts of movements and exercises without his brace

Opening night started to look like a possibility

He wanted to be there for training camp

He decided not to participate in biosteel

He wanted to play in all 7 exhibition games even though most veterans only did 4

“Like my first game all over again”

Seeing him on opening night was incredible for his training people

Okay, seeing the canucks slashing at him and shoving him into the boards in the home opener is now making me so protective

“He willed himself back”

#Connor McDavid #97 #hockey #oilers #Edmonton oilers #McDavid #cmd #mcjesus

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anti-endo-safe-space · 7 months

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I really don't like how pro endos keep treating us like bigots.

They act like we don't worry about being in the wrong and that we just hate them as individuals. It's not true.

Some anti-endos might feel this way but we don't. (We definitely have blocked some anti-endos who were very toxic).

We just don't understand how a system could form without trauma. The sources that pro endos have given us have never proved anything.

Pro endos will keep saying that we're "sysmeds" and "traumascum" but we just follow the science.

If science proves, at some point, that endo systems do exist, we'd be willing to accept that fact and move on. But for now, it doesn't.

We also just don't want to *have to* share a space with people who (usually) say that they do not have a trauma disorder. (Though we've definitely seen some people say they are DID endo systems).

We want a space where we can talk about our struggles, our dissociation, our amnesia, how we learn to deal with our trauma and our recovery.

But if we don't cater our posts to endos, they riot. I'm still mad about the posts we've seen from endos saying that they're models for non-disordered plurality. CDD systems can thrive too. They can live a good life and enjoy being a system.

Yet we're the ableists ones.

Exactly! We don't hate endos as people, they can be great people. Just that they're hurting our community and causing so much unnecessary drama between all of us

The sources are usually ones that random people make and don't have any big research.

"Sysmeds" and "traumascum" were made to mock the fact that transgender people call terfs transmed or transcum for believing you need to transition of have dsyphoria to be trans. Sysmed and tramascum is there version of "how dare you say I need to follow science!"

That's our thing. If science finds out it can happen, alright we'll move past with the new knowledge. Afterall, DID/OSDD was originally MPD before they learned more about it.

Exactly, if they want their own space and won't hate on those who mention their anti-endo or anything, that's fine. Just don't claim to be, like as you said, Endo DID or do something like steal someone's culture (Tulpa is part of the Tibetan Buddhist belief).

We've already gotten countless asks and comments talking about how we're stupid because we'll tag these with "plural" because some trauma systems will use it because, well, that's what we first called ourselves.

Exactly, being a system isn't the end of the world. Does it suck? All the time it can, we'll start spiraling because we realize we aren't one person but instead are several but it can also be fun, knowing that no matter what your never alone and sometimes headmates can be nice and comforting.

That's our biggest thing, we're labeled as abelist pricks meanwhile they'll claim we're evil for following science

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narcorob · 6 months

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MHA Chapter 1

I had a lot more to say about this chapter than I thought, so I'll see how it affects posting.

CHAPTER 1 --

In which the literal first appearance of Izuku is him trying to save someone, and Katsuki's being him bullying some random kid (and Izuku of course). I think this chapter sets the theme of the story well, if only it stuck to it. People being born unfair is a theme we seemingly lose straight after Izuku gets All Might's quirk, which is really unfortunate.

Something else I really like is how Chapter 1 sets up society as well; an attack from a villain, at least in this part of the city, is little more than a minor inconvenience. Regardless of the reasons why, this is striking because in most hero media, civilians are only there to be saved and when they are, they end up evacuating quickly.

In MHA, however, civilians stop and gawk; seeing a hero is only a little bit less important than seeing a celebrity walking down the street. Civilians at this point in time are so sure that heroes can stop the villains, are so secure in the knowledge that heroes can never let them down, that they walk up to the fight and have to be held off by other heroes and the police.

Wild.

Another thing is just how much force this random villain gets hit with for... stealing a purse? Well. I think from now I'll save all my social commentary for when the story talks about it, because I do have a lot of thoughts.

I'll put this one on this post though, because I'm not sure if the story comments on it: to be honest, encouraging kids to be heroes is really reckless, especially considering the amount of danger it puts them in! I guess it's to be expected, though. Who wouldn't want to be a hero? Only really people who like to be contrary, to be honest.

U.A. is NOT beating the child soldier allegations.

U.A. is always touted as a really important school, but I think we see it best in the way the students react to the idea of Katsuki applying for it: with shock, and then an outburst. I think U.A. is a little lackluster when it comes to magical schools, but in-universe it's obviously very important.

This chapter also shows how much Katsuki values quirks. He sees everyone else as lesser than him because of their "shitty quirks", and Izuku as well, a Deku, a nobody, because he has none. Honestly, it makes reading fanfics a little hard, because his viewpoint on this is literally in Chapter 1. Maybe it gets retconned, though. We'll see.

I've seen some fanon interpretations that make Bakugou's lackeys Izuku's bullies, but they seem pretty reserved and more just like, followers in Chapter 1. I can understand why people do this - a lot of Early Bakugou's actions are horrible to straight up near irredeemable (cough cough swan dive), and it's easier to stomach his redemption arc when he didn't do those certain things.

Off topic though. This isn't a Bakugou hate post.

The All Might rooftop scene is one of the things many people bash on him for. But I can see where he's coming from. First of all, it's very possible he's just repeating what he was told as a child, and just like with Izuku, it's also possible that being offered OFA by Nana only solidified the thought that "Quirkless people can't be heroes."

Maybe it's just the way he grew up. We know he grew up in an era when crime was rampant, and it's very likely that people who didn't have combat-oriented quirks just... didn't make it. I can't think of any older heroes we see in the series besides Recovery Girl that both are alive and don't have combat quirks.

Even if All Might was in the wrong, to me, he immediately redeems himself by believing in Izuku afterwards, and helping him train. He doesn't write off Izuku saving Bakugou as recklessness, he sees it for what it is; budding heroism. At least that you can respect.

(I should mention: I see a lot of All Might bashing, but I really love All Might. In that respect, I'll probably be more than a little biased, because I hate seeing All Might get bashed for making mistakes! Why does he have to be a static perfect character for people to not hate him... sigh)

I also see lots of criticism for the heroes in this scene! For Mount Lady... yeah, she's kind of wrong here. She can't get into the lane without causing property damage - why can't she just, not use her quirk? I guess it's just societal shit. Beyond her gigantification, she's basically fighting quirkless, which can be where her hangup is.

"But Izuku did it -" not really! He shocks the slime guy, sure, but who knows how long it'd last? Maybe I'm missing something, but it definitely seems like All Might's wind was their savior here. Reinforcing the idea that they did need "someone with the right quirk".

The other two seem reasonable to me. Kamui would get severely injured trying to help, and it's important to make sure those fires don't spread. Death Arms and the guy behind him are just straight useless though. Especially since he can't even do his job of making sure people don't run directly into the fight.

We see him doing it earlier too, so maybe that's just his job. Who knows. Combat heroes, rescue heroes, and border control.

I used to agree with this one stance that ragged on Izuku for only rushing in when he saw Katsuki's face - aka, someone close to him. But reading now, I think I understand what really happened: seeing Katsuki's expression, not his face (i.e. who he was), was what got Izuku.

Izuku sees Katsuki as proud; seeing that fear spurred him on. In that moment, all the pain Izuku endured; it doesn't matter.

"You looked like you needed saving."

More than likely, that doesn't just go for Katsuki. We see him demonstrate this over and over later in the series (i.e. Eri and Kota) so the principal here is - Izuku saw his face, and he moved, because Katsuki needed saving.

More points in favor of All Might's case. He recognizes his failings and goes straight to Izuku to rectify it.

At first I thought this post would be for chapters 1-10, then the chapters up to the U.A. entrance exam, but I just couldn't shut up. So here you go. See you again next Wednesday, I think? Thanks for reading!

#liveblogging #mha liveblogging #mha reading #go beyond | mha liveblog #bakugou critical #<- in my defense. he's kind of a shitbag in ch1

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introvertedfox · 5 months

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I'm back-ish Last month was hectic and this one did not have the best start either. A lot happened and didn't happen, I'll explain a bit under the cut. But I'm finally returning to my normal routine and I've missed my sims. Although I still have no motivation to open the game. But I still have a lot of screenshots, so I might start posting soon. No promises though. xD

So my 96-year-old grandma who was very sick in the hospital, like really bad, made an overnight recovery after like 3 days there. No one understands how, it was just random. I was told to prepare that she wouldn't recover at all. I don't have a great relationship with her if any, so I still don't know how to feel. I'm just glad she's still around I guess, at least for my father's sake. Meanwhile, my two cousins instead of being worried about our grandma are fighting for completely stupid and selfish reasons, they're not even talking to each other and they're trying to drag us into their problems. I mean, I don't have siblings but I find their relationship very odd. I guess that's not their fault entirely, my father's side is just really messed up. I never felt part of that family even when I was a kid.

Have you ever wanted to cut off an entire branch of your family tree and just refuse to deal with them at all? Cause I've been thinking about it…

Let's just say these last few weeks have not been good for my mental health. Having to deal with them drains me beyond belief. It always had.

#fox rambles #I want to play again #but I don't want to play again #does it make sense? xD #also long story short families are hard #and my father's side is way too toxic for me to handle

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a-crumb-of-whump · 1 year

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Okay, so I finally got around to all the responses given for the Random Whump Questions google form I made! Everything is ranked from highest to lowest in terms of what was picked, and the number beside them is how many people chose that option:)

Also, to make sure it's not longer than it needs to be, I'm going to do the open ended questions in a separate post:) Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for that!

One more thing to keep in mind. The 'custom answers' section is where only one person has brought it up. If multiple people have said the same thing, then it will be included in the main answers :)

Question 1. When did you first discover whump as a term?

A. 15 - 17 (106) B. 11 - 14 (105) C. 20 - 25 (42) D. 18 - 19 (39) E. 26 - 30 (21) F. -10 (4) G. 36 - 39 (4) H. 31 - 35 (3)

Question 2.

A. Absolutely not (135) B. Some of them do but I prefer to keep it to myself (127) C. I don't try to hide it but not many people know anyway (42) D. Most, if not all of them know - I'm very open about it (10) E. One person knows (4) F. Friends know, family don't (2)

Custom answers: I'm not secretive but I don't explain it because it's hard to, I've never said it but you only need to look at me to know.

Question 4. Biggest pet peeve when it comes to whump in media?

A. Whumpee miraculously recovers as if they didn't just break three vital bones in their body and get stabbed by the enemy (204) B. Skipping over it and going straight to recovery (165) C. Changes POV's right as it's getting juicy (154) D. Whumpee is too stoic and unphased by what happened (130) E. Too comedic/lighthearted (128) F. Main character(s) die rather than living with what they've done/what happened (127) G. Too much comfort and not enough hurt (80) H. The recovery/captivity is far too unrealistic (77) I. Too much hurt and not enough comfort (62) J. Whumpee is a massive wuss (56) K. All of the above (23) L. The recovery/captivity is too realistic (20) M. Too heavy/serious (16) N. Whumpee is unattractive/not cute enough to me (2) O. Wrong characters are whumped/favourite characters are ignored (2)

Custom written: Obvious medical errors, turns out it was all "just a nightmare!", Caretaker's wellbeing is ignored, Whumpee is rescued right before the whump was about to start, Caretaker never figures out what happened and it's never brought up again, no women, never goes as badly as I want, not enough from Whumpee's POV.

Custom written #2: Whumpee is infantilised during their recovery, no trauma/trauma is overlooked, aftermath/recovery is ignored by a timeskip, Whumpee has no personality apart from being the one who deserves pity for being white and pretty and sweet, caretaker saves the day and it's never brought up again.

Custom written #3: Caretaker saves the day and Whumpee is the perfect victim and there's no conflict ever again, too much emphasis on physical pain rather than emotional, whumper wants love from their whumpees, recovery is too fast and it involves sexual/romantic stuff.

Question 5. Best thing a whumpee can say to give you whumperflies?

A. "Please- please, no more." (146) B. "It hurts." (142) C. "Please don't leave me." (109) D. "Don't hurt them." (94) E. "Get the hell away from me." (85) F. "I just want to be good." (81) G. "You promised." (71) H. "Am I not enough?" (69) I. "I thought... I thought it was over." (50) J. "You came back!" (49) K. "I was so scared." (43) L. "You will not break me." (36) M. All of the above (19) N. Description over dialogue/I prefer whumpees that are too scared to talk (6) O. Begging (2) P. "I'm fine." (2) Q. "I can't take it anymore." (2)

Question 7. Best thing a whumper can say to give you whumperflies?

A. "I wonder how long it'll take to break you." (120) B. "Surely you can take a little more than that, can't you?" (111) C. "Tell me what I need to know and it'll all be over." (111) D. "You're being so good." (107) E. "You're so adorable when you cry." (98) F. "You're mine." (79) G. "Which finger should I crush this time?" (78) H. "I think if you were really sorry, you'd __" (63) I. "This is your home now." (57) J. "At least try to show a little enthusiasm." (49) K. "Please forgive me." (47) L. "You live to please me." (41) M. All of the above (15) N. Prefer no whumpers (7) O. Silent whumpers (3)

Custom answers: "Everything you touch dies." | "I have your whumpee." | "You wanna see something weird/interesting/cool?" | "Get some rest, darling. We'll pick this up again tomorrow." | "Just what do you think you're doing?" | "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

Question 8. Best thing a Caretaker can say to give you whumperflies?

A. "I got you." (180) B. "Breathe. Just breathe." (170) C. "What did they do to you." (154) D. "Hey, I'm here, okay?" (152) E. "Lie down, okay?" (107) F. "I'm gonna get us out of here." (107) G. "When was the last time they fed you?" (97) H. "Lay a hand on them and see what happens." (88) I. "Don't hurt them." (83) J. "I'm sorry but this is in your best interest." (66) K. "I will not rest until I find who did this." (41) L. "Don't cry." (32) M. All of the above (26) N. Any sort of medical talk (2) O. No caretakers (2)

Question 9. What role do you think you'd play in a whump story?

A. Whumpee (87) B. Caretaker (52) C. Side character (44) D. Caretaker-turned-whumpee (32) E. Whumpee-turned-caretaker (22) F. Whumper (16) G. Whumpee-turned-whumper (14) H. Whumper-turned-whumpee (11) I. Whumper-turned-caretaker (10) J. Caretaker-turned-whumper (8) K. Caretaker or whumpee (6) L. Carewhumper (3) M. None/I don't insert myself into scenarios (2)

Custom answers: Narrator, all of the above depending on my mood, side character.

Question 11. Favourite place to consume whump? (not including movies/tv shows/games/etc)

A. Tumblr (294) B. AO3 (212) C. Pinterest (62) D. Fanfiction.net (23) E. DeviantArt (8) F. Wattpad (4) G. My brain (4) H. All of the above (3) I. Youtube (3) J. Character.AI (2) K. Discord (2) L. My brain (2) M. Twitter (2)

Custom answers: Sketch book, google,

Other notes: Someone also gave @whumplovers-collaborate a mention, saying they've been on that server for over a year and that it's amazing.

Question 12. Pick a whumpy anime out of the ones I've watched (so far)

A. Castlevania (51) B. Black Butler (43) C. Bungou Stray Dogs (43) D. Banana Fish (35) E. Vanitas No Carte (19) F. Black Bullet (5)

Question 14. How old does a whumpee need to be to be considered an "older whumpee"?

A. 40+ (127) B. 34 - 37 (68) C. 30 - 33 (51) D. 38 - 39 (38) E. 26 - 29 (18) F. 22 - 25 (2) G. 18 - 21 (0)

Question 15. Pick a character that I think needs to be whumped more.

A. Link (The Legend Of Zelda) (96) B. Tony Stark (The Avengers/Iron Man) (64) C. Vanitas & Noe (Vanitas No Carte) (47) D. Joel Miller (The Last Of Us) (45) E. Hosea Matthews (Red Dead Redemption 2) (5)

Question 16. Do you prefer hystorical whump or modern whump?

A. Modern (220) B. Hystorical (82)

Question 17. Do you prefer hurt or comfort?

A. A healthy combination of both (163) B. A little bit of comfort, lots of hurt (81) C. Hurt (44) D. A little hurt, lots of comfort (28) E. Comfort (8)

Question 19. Favourite species to whump?

A. Human (290) B. Immortal (118) C. Vampire (105) D. Demon/angel (87) E. Werewolf (57) F. Robot/android/cyborg (54) G. God/deity (49) H. Birdpeople (48) I. Merfolk (44) J. Tiny (38) K. Catpeople (26) L. Alien (19) M. All (16) N. Humans with inhuman/magical abilities (5) O. Giant (2) P. Elf (2) Q. Lab subjects (2) R. Species isn't important (2)

Custom answers: Shapeshifter, hybrics, faefolk, winged whumpees, dhampir, superheros, dwarves, mobian.

Question 20. Pick something to restrain your whumpee with.

A. Chains (104) B. Rope (101) C. Handcuffs (38) D. Zipties (31) E. Your belt (18) F. A piece of their own clothing (18) G. Your tie (6)

Question 22: Your whumpee bites you. What do you do?

A. Put a muzzle on them. You're not mad, but you need to keep yourself safe (119) B. Beat them until they learn their lesson (82) C. Have a rational conversation with them once they've calmed down about why it's wrong and how to stop it from happening again (61) D. Get checked for some kind of desease. Who knows what they've been carrying (25) E. Ignore it and hope it doesn't happen again (8)

Question 23. A whumpee shows up at your door, terrified and scared. They beg for your help. What do you do?

A. Let them in and give them some food. You can worry about what you're gonna do with them later on (273) B. Keep them prisoner. Whump their to your heart's content (31) C. Slam the door in their face (4)

Taglist: @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @let-the-whump-commence @pigeonwhumps @rule-masochism @whumperofworlds @whump-space @wollemi-whump

#whump #whump stuff #whumpblr #whumblr #whump things

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