#and I want to just say if you get that sort of bad vibe then fucking dig deeper!! interrogate that feeling and where its coming from!
Note
Sissy- I’m so excited you reached your 500 follower mark. You’re very talented and I love sharing this little Elvisey corner with you. ✨
This photo of him is gorgeous and dreamy and sort of gives me Sissy poetry vibes. I’ll trust you to create whatever feels good to you. A little smutty, a little fluffy, whatever tickles your fancy dear 🖤
Thank you for being who you are 😘
@lookingforrainbows Awww you're the best! Thank you! Love you sweet friend!
I might've gotten a little carried away with this one, but you said poetry, so here you go...
Just the Two of Us
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, kissing, fingering, o in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, public(ish) sex, and some really indulgent purple prose
------------------------------------------------------
"We're married."
"I know." You look at your new husband and you're in absolute awe. How did you get so lucky? As you walk hand in hand on the beach, you can't believe this is actually your life. You're married. And not just to any man. You managed to land the most famous man on the planet, but more than that, you love him more than you ever thought possible.
He stops and turns you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist. The wind blows through both of your hair as the sun begins to set over the water. He leans in and plants a gentle kiss on your cheek.
"I love you so much, baby." He coos into your ear. You can't help but smile at his obsession with telling you how much he loves you as often as possible. This is probably the tenth time he's said it since you've been walking up and down the beach. "Let's lay down."
You spread out the towels you've been carrying this whole time, take off your gauzy white cover-up, and settle on the sand, lying on your stomach. He lays next to you, propped up on one elbow to look at you.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" He says with a sly smile.
"I'm starting to believe it. It's hard not to when you say it so often."
"I just want you to see yourself the way I see you, baby." He runs his fingertips down your cheek and leans in and kisses you again. Then, he looks out over the waves and surveys the beach around you. It's deserted, but of course it is since this is a private beach reserved just for your condo.
You're soaking in the last of the evening rays when you feel him fiddling with the strings on the side of your bikini bottoms. Your eyes pop open as he pulls on one and it comes untied.
"Elvis. What are you doing?"
"Nothing. Just... playing..." He reaches across to your other side and pulls on that one too until it falls open.
"Elvis..." He slides his hand under the back of your swimsuit and takes a handful of your ass, squeezing it gently. The sound of the waves crashing fades into the distance as his hand drifts a little lower, his finger tracing the edges of your entrance. He moves his fingertip to your clit and begins to make slow circles. Without meaning to, you lift your hips and spread your legs a little. He knows this signal and pulls his hand back to press his middle finger into you.
"Mmm... Elvis we're on the beach."
"So? There's no one around for miles. It's just you and me, baby." He pumps his finger in and out of you and you moan softly.
"But still." He pulls his finger back.
"You want me to stop?"
"No!" He smiles and presses his finger into you again, using his pointer finger to rub on your sensitive button. He leans forward and presses his lips to your shoulder as he continues to play with you.
"I just want to please my wife on our honeymoon. Is that bad?" He adds a second finger to press inside you and continues to drag his other fingertip across your clit quickly.
"No... it's so good..." You can't help but moan as he works you with his hand. You feel your release building as he moves on you. His ability to bring you to a climax with just three fingers will never cease to amaze you. The pressure continues to build in your center and he stops pumping his fingers to focus on your clit. He moves his fingertip over and around you and the blood rushes to your core. "Fuck, Elvis!"
You try not to scream as your orgasm slams into you, spreading you open right there on the beach and burning you up like starlight. Everything is warm and pulsing and all you see is his smile. He knows how he's made you feel and it's all he wants. But there's one more thing he needs.
"Can I make love to you on this beach, baby? I need you... right now..."
Everything inside you is warm, sensuous honey, so the thought of saying no doesn't even cross your mind.
"Yes, please." He kicks his pants off, pulls off his shirt, and rolls over on top of your back, discarding your open bikini bottom. You spread your legs just enough for him to find your entrance with the tip of his rock hard cock. He pushes into you slowly from behind, filling you inch by gasp-inspiring inch. When he's got you fully stretched around him, he pulls almost all the way out and thrusts into you deeply again. He begins a steady rhythm of rolling his hips into you, pumping into you as you try not to make too much noise. You're up on your elbows with your ass raised to give him the best angle. He kisses your shoulder and then slips a hand up under the top of your bikini to play with your nipple. After a few more minutes of thrusting, he unties your top and takes that off of you as well. Now it's just you and him, naked together under the open sky, the sun setting over the water creating a kaleidoscope of cotton candy clouds reflected on the waves.
The places where your skin kisses his are lightning hot with passion and sweat. And his lips. He presses his lips to any place he can reach on your back as he continues to fill you with himself over and over again.
When he pulls out and rolls onto his back, you know exactly what to do. You've made love to him enough to know what he wants. You crawl on top of him, settling a knee on either side of his hips and sink down onto him. The change in angle makes you moan together in unison. Somewhere a dog barks, but you don't care as the wind brushes your nipples causing them to harden even more. He notices and reaches out with both hands to caress your breasts. The waves crest and break on the beach behind you as you move up and down on him, taking him as deeply as you can. The sun is just a sliver over the water, but the moon is full, replacing the purple and orange sunset with silvery beams and glittering stars. He looks at you like you've swallowed the moon, it's light emanating from every edge of you.
"You are the answer to every prayer I've ever spoken into the darkness." He whispers into the night. His hand finds your cheek and he drags his thumb across your lips. No one else on earth knows the poetry of your bond. But he breathes life into it every time he touches you. "I am whole because you exist."
You lean forward and lay on his chest as he thrusts slowly into you from underneath. He pulls you into a deep kiss, your tongues creating a medley of dance steps all their own. When the kiss ends, you whisper back to him.
"You are my sun. The center of my orbit. I am me because you are you." He kisses your cheek and smiles.
"The only thing that ever made sense to me was music. And now you're the only notes I hear." His voice is just for you in the inky black night. Your heartbeats match the rhythm of his thrusting and the waves pounding the beach.
"All I want is to be yours forever." You half-moan into his ear.
"You are mine, baby. And I'm yours. Until we ourselves are moonlight." He groans and closes his eyes.
Before you were married, your union would've ended now to prevent any too-soon consequences. But tonight, here on the beach as husband and wife, there's a longing from both of you to continue. Any uncertainty about the future is now replaced by hope. So he doesn't stop. Your movements create a tapestry of oneness and as he approaches his release, your pace is steady. It's an unspoken agreement, a covenant that doesn't need acknowledging.
"Oh, God, baby..." He moans, eyes closed and lips parted slightly. You look at him with endless admiration. He's almost angelic in this moment and you revel in his beauty as he tenses and then shudders into you. The warmth inside you is not just metaphorical and he fills you with everything he has. This is what it means to be joined forever.
"I love you. I love you. I love you." He whispers, his voice husky with post-climax emotion as he kisses your lips between each phrase. When he's finished and beginning to soften, you readjust to lay next to him. He rolls over to face you, tracing his fingertips along the outline of your body as gently as butterfly wings. There is no more separation between you. You don't end and he doesn't begin. You simply are, like pieces of tracing paper layered together to create a single image.
"My husband." You whisper, your fingertips gracing the side of his face with a kind of holy adoration.
"My wife." He replies, his eyes like oceans deep enough to contain you both.
You lay there under the summer moon, two naked souls bound together by a love beyond comprehension. Tomorrow will bring you back to a reality filled with concert dates and meetings. But tonight? Tonight is just for the two of you.
******
The End
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
#elvis presley#elvis presley fanfiction#elvis fanfic#elvis#elvis presley fic#elvis smut#elvis presley x reader#elvis x reader#elvis fanfiction#elvis presley x y/n#elvis fic#elvis x y/n#elvis x you#elvis presley smut#elvis presley x you#reader requests
72 notes
·
View notes
Note
I know ppl are yapping at you abt Dungeon Meshi so sorry but I’m joining in. Who in the Gaang (or Gaang-adjacent) do you think would enjoy the dungeon most and least? Sokka would be having a grand time, eating cool food and rescuing sisters and learning about biology and doing puzzles. I can imagine Aang on the other hand having a very bad time; even the plants are animalistic so he would feel weird about eating them. He would appreciate Senshi’s care for the ecosystem though.
idk why ppl keep saying that sokka would be laios.... like laios does say that he wishes he could take falin's place and clearly means it, but he also has the mental fortitude to step back and look at the situation more rationally when he needs to. he clearly loves falin a lot, but he's also able to pace himself and acknowledges not to push himself beyond his own limits, so that he can make grand sacrifices when the time calls for it (and even then, he pretty much knew that losing his leg wasn't gonna be permanent). like, my point is, if katara got fucking eaten by a dragon, sokka would not even bother going back up to the surface to the regroup. he would not be able to approach the situation rationally whatsoever. laios wants to take falin's place because he doesn't want to see her in pain (and also because i'm sure there's a part of him that just wishes that he could be a really cool monster too, lol), but sokka would want to take her place because he fundamentally believes that his role in life is to sacrifice himself for her?? and he would feel like he had failed in some grand, existential way if she sacrificed herself for him (but also, falin is not katara, and so katara wouldn't make those same sacrifices either). if sokka was in laios's shoes, he would be acting far more like toshiro, and we know this because "the boiling rock" exists. sokka is someone who is easily motivated by guilt, and feels guilty about basically everything. there's no way he would be enjoying his time in the dungeon if he felt that he had failed the one person he valued most in the world. he barely enjoys doing anything as it is.
that said, if he was simply in the dungeon for work and katara was there with him or safely on the surface or otherwise healthy and intact, yeah he'd probably like the hunting and puzzle solving and the learning about ecosystems. and since magic is something that can be taught, i'm sure he'd also be fascinated by the science behind it and learn as much magic as he can. aang would be fine food-wise because he'd simply pack enough food in advance, which is what most people do anyway. katara would love it because she loves going on any sort of quest-like adventure, and she loves getting to be the hero. she and aang are the resident healers, naturally. toph enjoys it because she likes hanging out with her friends and getting into weird little situations. suki is slashing up monsters with her katana but mainly she's just vibing. zuko is having a bad time unless he has a fixed goal, just like, in general, so he's only going in the dungeon (or anywhere) if he has a very specific reason. people see azula, mai, and ty lee in the dungeon and they're like "that party is way too small they won't last a day" and then they work as such a perfect and efficient team that everyone is just like "okay. i stand corrected." but anyway. if anyone is falin, it's yue.
#catgirl-behavioral-therapy#asks#synthesis#they would be nothing like laios's party lmfao they would maybe eat the chicken part of a basilisk and that's it
23 notes
·
View notes
Note
Heyyyyy. So I wanted to know how it will be if Atalanta and Vivien met darling’s parents, and the parents were like “ yes my daughter has told us everything about you” . And I mean like EVERYTHING like darling said told their parents everything about them( including how they treat darling) but you don’t have to add that if you don’t want to. Hope you’re doing well btw ☺️
Vivien is sweating bullets. In my version of the story, Darling has no idea about his murders because he generally only eliminates the scum of society or people who hurt/upset Darling. However, Vivien will immediately freak out and think that everyone knows what he did. His eyes are wide, he's sweating, he's fidgeting, he is literally doing everything to make himself seem more suspicious. And he worked so hard too! He put on a nice shirt and combed his hair all nice, AND he brought Darling's parents a cake he baked. He wanted to make a good impression so bad and now everything is ruined! He doubts Darling will visit him in the maximum-security prison he is definitely getting put in. Vivien's thoughts are spiraling when Darling's Dad says "She told us all about the fresh strawberries you grew for her :D She says you're such a great horticulturist". He just stares for a second, then he snaps back to his regular easy-going personality. But late that night he's lying awake in bed thinking that he needs to calm down and probably not commit any murders for a while. Just in case.
Atalanta brought a very expensive bottle of wine to meet Darling's parents. As the day grew closer, she researched them extensively, trying to discover anything they might bring up. She wants to make sure she seems perfect, and everything seems to be going okay, but the situation has an unidentifiable weird vibe. They all sit down to dinner and open the bottle of wine. I doubt Darling would actually say out loud what Atalanta has done; I think there's a higher chance the parents would read between the lines or make up their own terrible conclusions. When they say this, Darling freezes and Atalanta's carefully constructed smile drops off her face.
After a full 30 seconds of tense silence, Atalanta speaks, setting down her fork, "Darling, I believe I heard Abebe call for me. Could you go see what he wants?"
"But-"
"Darling." Atalanta shoots her eyes to the side, giving Darling a look.
Darling blanches, hurrying up from her seat to go check on the guards stationed outside the suburban home. When she leaves, Atalanta turns her attention back to her in-laws. She expertly picks up her wine glass, swirling the golden liquid a little.
"Now, I truly believe I heard you wrong. What was that you said?" One could never say Atalanta wasn't kind; here she was giving them a second chance.
"I'm going to the police about what you've done with my daughter," Your father hisses, standing out of his seat, "You won't get away with this, you bitch."
Atalanta takes a sip of white wine, the corners of her mouth turning up into a small smirk, "Oh Richard... Who's going to believe you?"
Your father turns an angry red and your mother tries to pull him back down, looking between him and Atalanta in fear.
"Thank you for having me in your lovely home," Atalanta stands up, inclining her head in respect to her elders, "I'll send my precious Darling in to say goodbye. I suggest you stay quiet, if only for your own self-interest. I am extraordinarily lenient with my Darling, but that benevolence does not extend much farther. I'd hate to have to arrange some sort of "accident". I expect Y/N to be back in the car in five minutes.
She smiles, showing off her perfect teeth, "Please have a good night and a pleasant tomorrow."
Atalanta walks away, leaving your terrified and fuming parents in her wake.
#atalanta my oc#soft yandere#yandere#yandere blog#yandere imagine#yandere oc#yandere darling#yandere fluff#yandere headcanons#yandere x darling#Atalanta my oc#Vivien my oc
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
BABE WAKE UP NEW ✨️BAD FIC IDEA✨️ JUST DROPPED
Fic idea i might ACTUALLY be able to do, even though its probably super generic and has already been done 20 different ways before
Text under cut because the img quality is kind of shit for some reason
Anyway this is one of my less unhinged fic ideas (its probably too generic tbh) so let me know if this is any good/ if you'd read it/ thoughts/suggestions
Text because the img quality is bad lol
Fic idea for an hcom/ love/enemy triangle
narumitsu/kirinaru
similar idea to other fic but different and less fluff more drama. in the aj era.
Since its canon (i think??) phoenix refused to get any help from edgeworth when he got disbarred, i wanna expand on that idea in a relationship/love triangle way.
When phoenix gets disbarred he's intially offered support from edgeworth (even though he's still in europe) but he denies it out of pride. Even though phoenix says he doesnt need help, edgeworth has a feeling he's lying to get him to leave phoenix alone and decides to preemptively go back and see him in person. In a plot-twist-twist, phoenix is tipped off to edgeworth's suprise visit, and leaves the office before he gets there (still out of pride and believing somehow if edgeworth saw him he'd hate him for some reason) and somehow ends up staying with kristoph. Edgeworth finds the office empty and since he's persistent (in a yaoi way) he continues to look for phoenix.
Meanwhile phoenix is hiding from him at kris's house and they sort of have a thing but its kind of like a toxic old man yaoi type thing (they are terrible for each other). Kristoph is really nice to phoenix but really he's just manipulating him
and eventually Edgeworth finds out where phoenix is and goes there knowing it's kristoph but never having seen him in person before and when he gets there kris refuses to let him in like "yea no he's mine now he doesnt want to see you" with a smug little bitch attitude and while edgeworth gets the vibe he's totally lying, he's still hurt at the thought of it. He tells phoenix about it and tries to gaslight him into thinking he actually hates edgeworth (for real) and that he is WAY better for phoenix anyway. Edgeworth keeps thinking maybe phoenix really DOES hate him and that maybe he should move on since phoenix has seemingly moved on already.
Little do they both know theyre both completely incorrect about eachothers' assumptions because phoenix thinks edgeworth is chasing him to humiliate him and edgeworth thinks phoenix is running away because he hates him (for some reason) but really theyre both doing what theyre doing because they love each other. Phoenix trying to spare Edgeworth's feelings by not tarnishing his image of him by seeing him disbarred and Edgeworth not caring about that at all and just genuinely wanting to help/take care of him.
Eventually and after talking to someone else about it (maybe maya/franziska/gumshoe) edgeworth finds phoenix out somewhere and before he can run away he stops him to explain everything and they realize they love each other ❤️
#ace attorney#shipping#narumitsu#fanfic#kristoph gavin#phoenix wright#miles edgeworth#wrightworth#kirinaru#krisnix#slightly less unhinged than normal posting#should i write this?#thoughts??#fanfic ideas#fic ideas#this has probably been done before#but damn it im doing it ANYWAY#babe wake up#new bad fic idea just dropped
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
When Complete BS Becomes "Common Knowledge."
Someone told me they stopped paying attention to someone who reviews movies after one too many mean-spirited jokes about trans people, and it was one of those cases where the reviewer in question definitely had the vibe of someone who'd go around doing that, but I couldn't think of any real flagrant examples. Cut to me watching a movie the other day, remembering that oh yeah, I skipped that one guy's review of it because I wanted to go in blind, and sure enough, that review has this big long crappy 5 minute aside of an out of left field "DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENDER!?" routine. So that's a shame.
Now this particular guy rather famously Does Not Get Out Much. Pretty sure he hasn't really have any exposure to a single trans person, or to any real die hard transphobes, and most likely what happened here is he saw I dunno, an episode of South Park or a facebook post from some bigoted aunt, or some Tiktok video, something like that, and just blithely assimilated it into his world view.
But you know, the reality is... to the best of my knowledge no trans person has ever actually said this, or anything similar to this, and we sure as hell don't live in a world where anyone would have the back of someone who did? But you know, here we are.
Now I want to be clear, this isn't some kinda thing where trans people can't take a joke or anything. Literally while I was typing this, some cis guy just tossed this out, and this is a real tired old hokey one, but I cracked a smile, because oh yeah, the whole "programmer socks" bit really is a weirdly accurate stereotype.
And there's plenty of other trans jokes I'll laugh at. Ones directly at my expense. Some real dark ones even. You wanna go off on trans women all having the same like 10 names and them all sounding like we were born in the 1800s, go for it. Other stuff about how we all dress? Coping mechanisms? Low standards? Being too into pickles and sriracha? There's plenty.
But "DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENDER!?" and while we're at it, "I identify as..." don't even have the vague shape of something you're ever going to encounter in reality. Like if I didn't know the context of where these came from and hadn't had them posted a thousand times or so by people with swastikas for avatars and such, these probably would get a laugh from me the first time I heard them, because they sound like weird surrealist humor. Like, "don't you hate how every time you go to the laundromat, you have to play chess with the dragon before they let you in?"
But, again, I know the context. And the context is a bunch of fascists want people like me dead, and they're both too scared to pick up a gun to do it themselves and too incompetent to know who to point it at or where to find them. So they sit around with each other and go "hey, what sort of person does everyone hate? Let's all say trans people talk like them!" And because they haven't spoken to a single human being besides each other and the rich parents they're sponging off since getting banned from the Something Awful forums in the 90s/punk bar in the 80s/whatever, they settled on "rich white person calling the cops on somebody for walking down the street" and "didn't I first get into being a hatemonger because I was stupid enough to think that time I saw someone roleplaying he really thought he was a big scary dragon?" Which has honestly worked out weirdly well for them when you stop for half a second to appreciate just how absolutely ridiculous it is to ever imagine cops coming to the aid of trans people.
Like... here's a situation that actually plays out in reality. I have a bad tooth. Dentist says I need a root canal, and she doesn't do them. Refers me to another dentist like an hour and a half away. I walk in, write my Victorian sounding name on some paperwork, fill in all my various medications, wait a bit, hop into the big dentist's chair, so far so good. This dentist busts out the pick and the mirror about to have a look, and goes "hey, so I noticed on your medications you're taking a ton of something called divigel? What is that?" I say "oh, yeah, I'm trans, so I'm on supplemental estradiol." She almost drops the mirror, stares at me like she just realized I'm Venom and if she bent down to look at my teeth I was about to swallow her whole head. She stands bolt upright, says, "your teeth are fine, get out." I'm a bit confused, but I can read a room, so I say "well that's weird, but OK..." and start to leave. I get a "have a nice day SIR!" shouted at me. And then I go out, call the cab company to say my appointment ended early, and get told too bad, it's coming when it's scheduled, and someone snickers. See, at some point in having to take cabs to all my appointments, a driver worked out that this woman he'd been picking up from this address for the past year has a similar voice to and maybe vague family resemblance to who he'd been picking up from that same address the year prior, and after getting the courage to ask me, guess who's constantly having cabs show up late, or not at all, or on time with a driver staring angrily into the rear view mirror while blaring AM radio with someone shouting about all "the gays" needing to be rounded up so they can burn in hell. And I just need to suck it up and live with it. I'm sure as hell not going to pick a fight over it. I'm just gonna stand out in the cold (fortunately with nice warm knee-high socks) waiting for this cab for an hour because I sure as hell can't stay in this lobby.
But again, the whole weird myth here posits a world where trans people are all-powerful and control the government and stuff. And the basis for that is like... sometimes people refuse to pass ridiculous laws to stop trans people from doing things we only do in bigots' imaginations at great taxpayer expense, and SOMETIMES someone is responsible enough to double check what's up before they allocate the funds. Like... hell, you know what's exactly as completely divorced from reality and honestly the same people doing to same crap? That wild BS about "schools keeping litter boxes in classrooms because all this acceptance of trans people means we also have to accept kids who think they're cats!" Like... how the hell can anyone actually be stupid enough to believe that anyone else could be stupid enough to believe that they're actually stupid enough to believe such an OBVIOUSLY made-up narrative? Like... lawmakers bring that one up and try to get bills passed on it. Everyone else in the room is socially obligated not to laugh and ask whether they also want to pass legislation against Bat Boy and UFO abductions. This is Ralph Wiggum tier absurdity.
But like... what do you do about this sort of thing, really? As the person ultimately has to deal with the dentists who think I'll bite their heads off, ask to speak to their manager, and drop trou over a sandbox the state mandates they keep in the middle of the room, I'm... not in the room when this BS gets concocted, or discussed, or shared in Minions meme some film critic sees and imitates to try and be relatable and relevant. Can someone else start grabbing all these people by the lapels and shake them and shout questions about how they can be this stupid, maybe invite them back to reality for me?
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!
So.
I've had some time to sit and stew on the Fallout show, and I think I've finally figured out exactly what I want to say. Because kids? I got Opinions™ about this fucking series. I sincerely wish I didn't have all these Opinions™, because that would almost certainly cause me significantly less stress.
But here we are.
The Fallout show annoys me, but not for the reasons you think.
Let's get the good out of the way first. And by "good" I mean "damning with faint praise."
The Fallout show, as a piece of entertainment and experienced in a vacuum with no prior knowledge or context of the rest of the series or any of the other video games, is... fine. It's an entertaining television show. It's not great, but it's not terrible. It's okay.
The best part of the show is, unquestionably, Walton Goggins. Which is probably the coldest take here, everyone agrees that he's fantastic in this. And it's true! Granted, he doesn't look nearly as gnarly as he should, as the makeup is really giving Ryan Reynolds Deadpool Hugo Weaving Red Skull vibes, but I can honestly give that a pass. He steals every single scene he's in. He has all the best lines. Plus, all the pre-war flashbacks with him are excellent. That first scene when the bombs drop is fucking harrowing.
SPEAKING OF THE BOMBS!
The big reveal that Vault Tec were the ones to kickstart the apocalypse. My initial gut reaction to that was... Not Great. I didn't like it. In fact, I kinda hated it. I thought it was an answer to a question that nobody asked, because nobody cared, because it was never supposed to matter who shot first. The original point was that the end of the world was the inevitable outcome after so many years of war, so many years of stockpiling nuclear weapons, and so many bad decisions from everyone in positions of power on all sides of the conflict.
But the more I think about Vault Tec being the ones to destroy the world... I dunno, the more I... kinda like it? In a fashion. Sort of. As you can see by the remaining length of this fucking rant, I have Complicated Feelings about this!
See, Fallout has never exactly been subtle with its themes, but the show drops all pretense, and openly embraces a staunchly (and honestly, extremely surprising) anti-capitalist narrative.
The Fallout show pulls a Garth Marenghi unironically, and it honestly... kinda works?
Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs because they wanted to recreate the world in their image of a capitalist "paradise" free of any and all government regulation. The inevitable end result of the "great game" of capitalism is the literal end of the world, and the capitalists will do everything they can to destroy any attempts to rebuild any civilization not explicitly under their direct control. Because that's what capitalists do: they pursue an ultimately self-destructive goal that is not, and never was, sustainable, and will destroy everything else in their pursuit of endless, infinite, exponential growth, forever. Nothing else matters except Make Number Line Go Up.
Side note: it is extremely funny to me that Bethesda - a hollow shell of greed and excess who have been releasing the same game with different wallpapers over and over again since Oblivion - and Amazon - which is fucking Amazon - bankrolled a show where the villains are greedy capitalists who explicitly destroyed the world because of fiduciary duty to the shareholders. Like... guys, you do realize you two are Vault Tec in this scenario, right?
Ah well. That's capitalist realism for ya.
Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes that Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs.
HOWEVER.
Maybe this is just me being a cynical, drunken asshole here, but... it feels like this was a decision that was made, not because it was the best way to take the narrative, but instead as a means of enforcing the Status Quo of Bethesda Fallout.
See, the thing I liked about the west coast Fallout games was that it showed a world ravaged by the apocalypse, but it also showed that world beginning to heal. 200 years after The End, and civilization was returning. It was a natural evolution of things, emphasizing the post part of "post-apocalypse." It showed us a world that really sucked a lot of the time... but also gave us a small sliver of hope that, no matter what nightmares existed after The End, things could - and would - get better, so long as we put in the work to make it better. It was a world that showed us that nothing was ever so broken that it couldn't be repaired. We just had to fucking EARN that happy ending.
Bethesda Fallout, on the other hand, is just Wacky Wasteland Adventure Time. They are not interested in showing a world evolving or changing or growing, they just want a blasted hellscape that looks like it was freshly nuked yesterday. Why? Because that's the surface-level Aesthetic of Fallout. That is what is recognizable. And Aesthetic is all they know how to do. That's the mother fucking Brand.
Doing something different would risk changing the Brand, and if that kind of change happens, then it's no longer easily marketable. So they just keep with what's familiar: freshly irradiated hellscapes, caps as currency, makeshift weapons, psychotic raiders with no purpose or goals beyond Fuck You, and more of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. It's all the stuff we remember, so we can point at the screen and go "I recognize that!" instead of allowing the setting to evolve and creating something new.
And that's what annoys me the most. Because even though Vault Tec destroying the world in 2077 makes a certain amount of sense, it also feels like it only exists as a means of artificially enforcing the status quo of the setting. Which means that nothing will ever matter in Fallout ever again. It doesn't matter what happens, or what changes in the future, or who wins the next ideological conflict between the same factions that keep reappearing over and over again like radroaches. Because whenever something strays too far from the established setting, Vault Tec (or, more accurately, Bethesda) is just going to nuke it again, like what happened to Shady Sands.
And, y'know, Shady Sands getting nuked like that really does rankle. Not because I ever had any attachment to the NCR, but because destroying it in the way that they did just felt so fucking lazy. If they wanted to get rid of the NCR, there were easily half a dozen other things they could've done that would've made far more sense. The NCR was a fantastically corrupt government, making the same mistakes as the same governments that (up until the show) were responsible for destroying the world. California was running out of food and clean drinking water because of gross negligence and mismanagement, public unrest was high because of excessive taxation and the "stop tolls" of corrupt border guards shaking down people, and both the military and bureaucracy of the NCR was spread fucking paper-thin, due to their policies of violent imperialist expansionism trying to take far more territory than they could reasonably hold, far more quickly than they could ever manage.
And did any of that matter? No. Not at all. Pursuing any of those plot threads would've required the writers to actually come up with some new ideas. So, instead, it was destroyed because of a cryogenically frozen Vault Tec middle manager with family problems. It was such a fucking lazy solution to a problem that should never have existed in the first place. It felt like the Fallout equivalent of "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."
That's why this show annoys me so much. Because this show that exists without subtlety or subtext, is telling us, to our face:
Don't hope for a better future, because it will never come. The world of Fallout is a destroyed, irradiated hellscape, entirely devoid of hope, and it will never, ever change, ever again.
Because that's the Fallout Brand, and that's what fucking sells.
#drunk skunk rant#Fallout#fallout show#fallout tv show#fallout show spoilers#it took me three hours to write this#what the hell am I doing with my life
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Learning Curve Hall-of-Famer right here.
Tuvok making Chell clean the transporter room with the equivalent of a toothbrush as, I assume, a punishment of some sort & Harry coming out of left field with a 'You missed a spot <3' just to kick him while he's down. Harry, the man's gonna be there LITERALLY all day. Absolute bastards these Starfleet types <- said with love
#learning curve#Tuvok confiscating the Bajoran earring is obviously bad but his entire method of training is also just so ... it's a Lot#He's such a drill sargent v_v It's moments like these that make me think he and Harry would well together in the mirrorverse#B'Elanna: ?? But he'll be at it for hours! / Kim: (knowing that's the point) : ) .....#B'Elanna: Well good luck! / Harry: You missed a spot : )#Tuvok: Ten laps around the ship in increased gravity. Ten more laps if you talk back to me. Twenty. Thirty. Forty.#Twenty six hours scrubbing the floor as punishment. No stopping for water. I expect you to improve daily or I will consider this a failure.#Also Tuvok: I just don't understand why they aren't responding well to my training....hmm.... / Neelix: ................ : ) Um.#People like to focus on Tuvok as a good mentor or father figure but I really think that's only to very select and specific people about#select & specific things - this rigidity and lack of compassion and inability to understand others and general#vibe of being uncaring is also part of his personality#Like what Neelix said: 'That's the problem - you have no feeling for me but you have feelings against me' <- That sort of vibe#<- And also the fact that he's very close with Janeway despite (or perhaps because of) this is another interest component of them#Janeway who at the start of the show stated explictly that she was comfortable with her distance as Captain (which hints that she's not#like say - Pike. Who wants to get to know his crew intimately)#Idk I just think it's interesting!#Janeway & Tuvok as colder than other Human/Vulcan pairs is something that intrigues me. Janeway being comfortable with distance from others#and heavily segmenting her personal vs private lives and Tuvok who is the most quintessential Vulcan also being the closest to her for the#longest time (They've been friends 20 years prior to the show's opening)#There's no component of their relationship which demands Tuvok be more Human which is something I /WISH/....we EXPLORED more....the#Janeway-Tuvok friendship....it's SO telling that other Main Vulcan-Human pairs are like the most delved into relationships on screen but#Tuvok & Janeway's relationship is paid lip service but never REALLY is any time devoted to it explicitly. I wonder why that IS.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
yknow what bugs me is when ppls criticism of YA media boils down to them just not knowing how teenage crushes work
#'bella being depressed because edward wasnt at school is unhealthy obsession' no that's called having a crush#'him asking her out by them hearing a rumor saying theyre dating and bella going 'what should i say' +him responding 'well i guess you could#tell them yes. yknow just because its easier' is lame and boring' are you kidding me i ate that shit up at that age#when two shy awkward people flirt thats how you end up in a relationship is you both kind of just sidle your way up to it#and i dont even feel like that one contributes to like 'things abt him that arent necessarily red flags on their own but as a whole point to#bad things' like. from what i gathered feom the movie bella did not seem like the type to like some big first move#like. shes an emo bruh girl. if it wasnt some sort of edgy teenage heartthrob performance then shed just brush him off like#every other Conventionally Attractive Dude™ falling all over her#ppl keep acting like her not going for every other dude who wants her is a character flaw or bad writing but. like#literally just have you ever met a depressed teenage girl.#shes Not Like Other Girls™ and finds regular guys who express emotions in regular ways boring#her wanting him over every other bland boring safe guy she could have in an instant isnt a plot hole‚ its characterization#also i disagree with the vibe that she's just a blank slate like. as someone who was a depressed teenage girl#she didn't come across as blank to me#she came across as. depressed and emo and trying so very hard to look cool and mysterious at all times and had#spent her life up to that point praying to find out magic was real and could whisk her away into a life of adventure and romance and drama#you look me in the eyes and tell me that girl didn't spend middle school chewing through every book she could get her hands on#as fast as possible.#idk#origibberish
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's 2 am as I start this, and I feel the need to put pen to paper on this thought, so to speak, because it's something I think about with relative frequency.
This is going to be more of a personal musing on my experience with Doki Doki Literature Club, and why it had such an impact on me when I first played it, as opposed to any more concrete analysis, so I guess you can keep reading if you want to know more about me as a person and my overall personal relationship to it.
Something I think about often in reference to DDLC is its status simultaneously as a satire on visual novels and all of the tropes therein, as well as a love letter to that genre, explicitly. It's very readily apparent if you've played a good few "weeb" visual novels that it very much fits that bill. I think my first experience with it makes it especially funny in that respect.
To give context, I first experienced Doki Doki Literature Club like a month or two after it came out, in a Skype call (shows how old I am) with 2 or 3 of my friends. During this period of my life, me and this small group of friends spent lots and lots of time just hanging out in Skype calls like this, doing whatever we pleased, spending time well into the next morning just enjoying each other's presence and seeing what fun shenanigans we could get into on the internet.
One frequent passtime of ours was playing visual novels. Not just any visual novels, no; we went looking for the most low effort, mediocre, low hanging fruit of visual novels we could download for free. The goal wasn't to enjoy a good story, the goal was to find something amusingly bad, whether in cliched, awkward, lazy writing, or in sheer absurdity. I still do this sometimes, though it's admittedly with a different thought in mind now.
I don't think this perception we had of visual novels, being that they're typically sloppy, cringe-inducing messes is necessarily uncommon even now, but it was especially common back then. It was "weeb shit", simple as, but even deeper than your typical weeb shit. The perception was something like watching High School DxD unironically; it's just weird.
And I don't really think the perception of visual novels being that way is necessarily inaccurate; there is a very low bar to entry to actually creating a visual novel just by the nature of the medium, so really, anyone with enough passion for a project and time on their hands can make one. As a consequence, there are a few egregiously bad visual novels, there are a few really excellent visual novels, but there are a great many just sort of okay, somewhat mediocre visual novels, and lots of visual novels created with not so honorable goals in mind.
And one thing we really enjoyed was just exploring what existed in the depths of unpopular visual novels slipping through the cracks of what people saw. For most of it, we were making fun of it, but there were a lot of points where we found stories which were mediocre, but ended up really enjoying our experience with it. I think an important thing to understand with that lower barrier to entry is that it enables people who really are passionate about telling a story to tell a story that has a lot of heart, and you can see all of that heart as a diamond within the rough of the actual construction. Even in VNs with more polish, typically there are still cracks right around the edges, where you can see just a little bit of the humanity that goes into it. It's sort of magical.
And Doki Doki Literature Club was an odd edge case, which successfully played with all of my perceptions of it. DDLC is probably the only game whose story is reliant on a plot twist where I actually went in completely blind. By all appearances, it was a silly little visual novel made with no sense of irony, and I spent a great deal of time laughing at its contents, completely unaware that they were in on the joke.
And my perception of it being this way I feel like colored a lot of what happened next when I looked into it. I forget exactly when our playthrough ended--we didn't make it to any of the deeper stuff, I watched a Let's Play for that--and I forget how the whole series of events following that went, but somehow or another, I learned of some of the true nature. Namely I saw what happened to Sayori.
It reminded me of Corpse Party, when I actually thought about it.
I'm not going to go deep in depth on all of my thoughts about Corpse Party nor any of its history, but to be frank, Corpse Party reeeally sits in that realm of "mediocre, but lots of heart" to me. I don't really think Corpse Party is very good, particularly elaborating on a lot of the lore, but I really enjoyed it when I first experienced it, and it's still something I occasionally like looking back over. It's deliciously dark, and is extremely effective at creating an oppressive atmosphere out of what's ostensibly a collection of happy warm anime character tropes with little serious personality outside them.
So when I say that Sayori's death reminded me of Corpse Party, I mean that the way it paired playing the happy warm visual novel setting straight with extremely grim subject matter was done well.
Really, there were only a few other examples of this kind of media I could think of that really effectively utilized the exact kind of gut punch that DDLC did. Everything about the way the game framed itself around it, up until the final plot twist, really did feel like they were just elements of a visual novel playing themselves out. Sayo-nara really sets that tone for me--it still gives me chills sometimes when I hear it, because it sounds perfectly like what a "Bad Ending" theme for that kind of ending would likely sound like. It plays itself remarkably well into creating the setting, it really effectively feels like it is a normal visual novel falling apart at the seams.
I think that, more than anything, is why DDLC made such an impact on me when I first experienced it (which is remarkably different than the kind of mark it leaves on me now), it played so effectively with a genre I was so familiar with, and simultaneously played "mediocre visual novel with lots of heart" straight while also completely knocking "deep and terrifying existential horror" out of the park.
It's hard to truly describe, but there's just so much that feels so right about DDLC just being as it is. There's such a unique quality to the way it's written, to the way it's constructed, that goes down to its bones. It feels like that exact brand of junk food media you go to visual novels for. You don't necessarily want to think too deeply about the characters, or the setting of the story, or any of the deeper themes surrounding it; you just want to experience a nice story with some anime girls.
And then it yanks the rug out from under you, and makes you think it's junk food media with a side of deep and disturbing horror.
And then it yanks the second rug out from under that one, making you realize it's something much, much deeper.
I think something else it really appealed to, to me, was just that sense of being on the edge of the world which most indie games of that sort always give me. There are a shitload of examples I could give for this, but this sense I'm describing is the opposite of the sense which games like Undertale give me. Undertale's world feels lived in, it feels like it exists in a much, much wider concept of a great, sprawling world where billions of people live.
DDLC feels like you and the 4 girls in it are the only people in the universe. There are all of these environments you inhabit which ostensibly have other people who pass through them, live in them, there are implications of people, but inside this world, there's only you.
I think it just appeals to my desire to be transported to a complete other world for a little while. A limited space, where only things important to this experience exist, for this pure feeling of emotional catharsis. And that's something a lot of these sorts of simple visual novels appeal to; the goal isn't necessarily to tell some deeper story, it's just to present beats as they happen. DDLC takes that, and plays with it, both in a textual sense, as though these fictional characters exist and are somehow aware they're fictional, and in a meta sense, by directly playing around with your expectations and the way the entire thing is framed.
Or something like that.
Fun fact 1: Doki Doki Literature Club (specifically Sayo-Nara, still one of the few songs I can play entirely by memory) is what got me to start learning piano. I taught myself to play, and started mostly with the DDLC soundtrack (Which is very simple to play by ear, by the way, it's pretty much entirely C major.)
Fun fact 2: What initially inspired this thought was this video, which really reminded me of other visual novels we/I played that would utilize this particular style of music.
#musings#it's hard to really put into words the vibe i always get about it#it's something i'd really like to just capture in a bottle and keep stored somewhere#there's something to it that's inextricably tied to a lot of what my life was like when i was a teenager#there's a lot which is tied to what my relationships with people when i was younger is built on#there's a lot which builds the kind of person i am today both in writing and in personality#we're sort of just on this earth to experience shit#and this sure is something to experience#i think this is why i typically have such a 'meh' opinion about a lot of specific details to how things are constructed in fanworks#like dialogue and actions not being perfectly suited to how it would be written if it was canon#and i'm not saying i write like canon or that those are bad because they're not canon or anything like that#it's just like#i want SPECIFICALLY more of ddlc. so if you aren't specifically more of ddlc and are instead your own thing i'm not really that interested#not typically anyway#i feel like i'm losing a lot of what i want to say in translation#but i hope i've sorta conveyed a lot of my thoughts on the matter#as a visual novel i really enjoy ddlc and it really does play its genre well#and also as a story outside of the visual novel part i enjoy ddlc a lot#more regular analyses & thoughts coming soonish.......#shout out to me as a teenager lying on the floor listening to sayo-nara and feeling The FeelsTM for hours
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
So. Sit with me everyone. We agree that we need to stop worshipping a person or media on the sole grounds of being gay right. Can we finally agree that it's not homophobic to criticize gay ppl with large platforms. Can we finally actually learn to think critically abt how these ppl talk abt ppl outside of their immediate identities and to recognize that just because they say they aren't bigoted doesn't mean they aren't. Please.
#rat rambles#like seeing ppl dunk on james is vibdicating and all but also. yall do realize that even without the plagerism hed still be a piece of shit#and that another white man shouldnt have to spell out to you what misogyny is#<- directed at ppl who watched mr misogyny before hand#Im not saying anyone is a bad person for not realizing. Im just saying to be more careful and attentive in the future#dont be scared to criticize the ppl you watch even if you dont think theyre a bad person#hell Ive been watching hbomberguy for years and he is certainly not perfect#like in a lot of his old videos you can rly see some unconcious ableism#and I could go on and on with nitpicks and gripes Ive had with him over the past several years but thats not the point of this post#the point is that you need to get yourself comfortable with digging deeper into the things you consume#a lot of ppl will say things like 'oh this person gave me a bad vibe but I didnt think it was this bad'#and I want to just say if you get that sort of bad vibe then fucking dig deeper!! interrogate that feeling and where its coming from!#this also applies to situations where you might dislike someone for bigoted reasons of your own#I think ppl try way too hard to train themselves to not interrogate their discomfort and it's so not good for your critical thinking skills#and in fact interrogate your comforts too#just in general thinking abt why certain things make you feel certain ways is good practice and will help you see red flags sooner#is this gay guy focusing more on gay men than gay women? why might this be? is it really the topic like he says it is?#if you think well Im also more interested in gay men that gay women in history so hes not doing anything bad#then question why you think that. idc how uncomfortable it makes you to question your views on minorities fucking do it#cause imagining you arent misogynist or racist or whatever the fuck doesnt make you less bigoted#if you want to be the ally you think you are you need to suck it up theres not rly a kinder way I can manage to put it
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
🔧
#‟ i am but a sensitive pillar of salt ” || ooc#so consider me on a semi hiatus?? sort of???#I’m not gonna be acting or doing much of anything that I haven’t already been but I will probably be a bit quieter than normal for a bit#at least till I’ve had a chance to talk to some friends for perspective and think some things out and make some decisions#that will ultimately effect Joel how I write him and probably the future of this blog#i do wanna say some of this is stuff I’ve been thinking about since Joel’s conception 2 years ago#but some of it has been influenced by stuff I’ve been witness to recently and the behavior of others both good and bad#to that end I’m not upset at anyone no one who follows me here or who I talk to regularly should feel worried they’ve done something wrong#i promise you YOU HAVENT. really no one has done anything WRONG exactly it’s more like I’ve realized i maybe don’t vibe as well with#certain things and behaviors or tolerate them as well as I used to think I did/could#also I might just be getting old and grouchy and therefore way more selective with who I have patience for and want to interact with#anyways—— I’ll definitely make a proper post later to explain things a bit better once I’ve talked to people and had time to consider some#stuff and make those decisions I was speaking about. regardless though I wanted to give a heads up and say that some changes are on the way#mostly minor in the grand scheme of things but still significant in others 💚#also *blows kisses and gives you all garlic bread* I hope every single one of you is having a fantastic timezone#i love you all and your patience with my nonsense means the world to me 🥺🥰💚
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
disarm (18+)
contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina; reader is called ‘girl’ once; sexual tension; drunk!flirty!steve; lil bit of inspection kink; size kink; teasing; no smut just whorish vibes
author note: i hope you folks like it! i won’t be doing a part 2 of this one, but hope you enjoy the tension :)
Steve’s always saying weird shit to you when he’s drunk.
You know he’s just uninhibited. That if he were sober he’d be so embarrassed. You keep telling yourself that, at least.
The first time he approaches you like this, he asks, “What color underwear you got on?”
You humor him, tipsy yourself. “Take a guess.”
Steve really looks like he’s thinking, dilated pupils staring deep into yours. “Red?”
“Nope.” you can’t stop looking at him, and he isn’t looking away either. “They’re blue, actually.”
“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asks, voice low, leaning forward to rest his palm on your knee.
“Oh, you think I wore them for you?”
“I wish.”
He’s easily distracted and the conversation goes no further. It’s easy to shrug him off. You know he’s a whore, anyway - have to hear about his most recent date every time you see him.
But then it happens again.
Steve stops you in the hallway at the next party, his warm hand curling around your bicep gently. Makes you stop walking to look at him.
“Havin’ fun?” he asks. His t-shirt is cut low - your eyes are drawn to the dark patch of hair on his chest.
“I think so.”
He grins, borderline diabolical. Teeth straight and white, blunt edges that could bite bruises into your skin. “There’s a free bedroom upstairs if you wanna have more.”
“Huh?”
“I said -“ he leans in towards you, until the tip of his nose touches yours, “- there’s a free bedroom upstairs if you want to have more fun.”
He doesn’t stay very serious, however. He giggles, pulls away from you and winks before continuing on his way. You roll your eyes after him, trying to brush off the way he made your stomach flip. He apparently doesn’t fuck without a first date, anyway.
And then it just sort of keeps happening. Sometimes he’d just stare at you, mouth slightly agape, watching you from the other side of the room. Or he’d make sure his palm presses firmly against the small of your back as he “squeezes past” you to grab another drink, despite there being a five foot clearance.
One night, when he’s more drunk than usual - something to do with a bad week at work - he goes a lot farther than he has. He finds you in the corner of the living room, looking at the lines in your own palm.
“Hey,” he says, quite loudly, startling you.
When you look up, he’s extremely close to you. Eyes soft, but staring into yours. He smells like maraschino cherries, no doubt from the strawberry daiquiris he won’t admit he loves. “Hi,” you breathe, trying to look at his eyes, but they keep moving languidly from your eyes to your lips to your chest. Your breasts peak out from the scoop-neck of the baby tee you’re wearing. And, okay, it’s baby blue - you may have worn it just to see what he’d do.
“Can I help you?” you ask.
He nods, nose slanting downwards towards your tits. “Y’never really wear stuff like that.”
You shake your head. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
You grin. “Because pervs like you will stare.”
He scoffs. “That’s ‘stactly why you shouldn’t be wearin’ it here.”
Your eyes narrow at him. Now he’s just being annoying. “Oh, are you mad?”
“A little.” He licks his lips, tongue stained red from the mixer. “You should only be wearin’ somethin’ like that when you’re gonna get fucked.”
Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest, enough to feel it in your throat. He’s never been so forward before. And he’s backing you into the wall, trapping you in - very deliciously.
He tilts his head, highlighted hair bobbing over his forehead. “Are you gonna get fucked tonight?”
You swallow hard, blood icy cold. You’re not used to this tango, not with him. “You tell me.”
Steve blinks like he’s also shocked, goes a little slack jawed. He looks down at your tits, then back up. “I think you should get fucked tonight.”
Your hand clenches around your drink, threatening to fall to the floor. You’re weak, sore and needy between the legs.
Perhaps he’s willing to make an exception for the date rule for you.
“Will I?”
“With tits like those?” He nods down again. “Bet you’ve got the sweetest nipples. You like havin’ ‘em bit? Sucked?”
You wonder if he feels the heat radiating off of your face. “Steve,” you say, trying to give him a warning. You can’t breathe, knees beginning to shake. “What kind of friend asks that?”
His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “So you just see me as a friend?”
You bite your cheek. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Or do you know something I don’t?”
“I -“
You’re both startled by the sound of champagne popping, shrieks and woops breaking you out of whatever you were just entangled in. And Steve, so easily distracted, groans and marches towards the kitchen, shouting, “I told you to take that shit outside!”
You inhale deep, thumping chest caving in, collarbones turning sharp. It’s suddenly so cold without him in front of you. You run a hand through your hair and look around, spotting Robin grinning at you from ear to ear. You roll your eyes at her and move through the living room to get some water and air.
You wonder if he’ll even remember when he’s sober. If he’ll apologize for asking something so insane. But he either doesn’t remember or wants to forget, because when you’re back to return tapes two days later he acts completely normal. It isn’t a bad thing - it’s a bit fun to play with him in such a non-serious way. Though you do find his hands gripping the next tape you rent for a bit too long, shoves your change into your hand and lets his palm linger against yours.
Another get together - you can hardly call it a party when there’s only ten people present - brings you back to his apartment two weeks later. It’s much more low key and he, in turn, drinks much less. He still gets drunk, though - laughing loudly, freckled neck on display. Does things he gives Robin shit for. You laugh beside her when she scoffs at him, throwing a pillow across the way to hit him in the back of the head.
“I’m gonna get a drink,” she says. “Do you want one?”
You tell her you’re okay and she’s off, leaving the couch beside you empty. Which Steve notes. Immediately.
“What’s a place like you doin’ in a girl like this?”
“You invited me,” you remind, the couch dipping as he sits beside you.
“Ohhh. And why’d I do that?”
You hum, trying to suppress a smile. “I don’t know. You must like me.”
He narrows his eyes. “You know I do.”
You’re already getting horny again. “Because I leave big tips for you?”
“And what do you know about big tips, huh?”
You laugh, a little shrill, feeling very much on the spot. Then he grabs your hand, pulling it up against his. You assume he’s comparing the size - a clear flirting tactic - and you watch him with much adoration as he examines them together. His first knuckle is able to come down on your finger tips and he grins. “You’ve got small hands.”
“Maybe yours are just freakishly big.”
“Wanna know what else is?”
Which, truly, in any other situation this would be funny. But it so isn’t. His words are deathly serious to you.
“Well, it can’t be your brain.”
Steve scoffs again. “Oh, funny.”
Out of nowhere, you’re doused with something cold. Robin’s tripped on the rug, spilling her wine on you. You gasp just as she says, “Oh, shit!”
“Rob-in!” Steve sounds more than exasperated with her, but it’s hard to take it seriously when he’s slurring.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry - I got - I tripped - with my big clown feet - oh my god, are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” you promise, despite the huge red stain on your white shirt. It’s still dripping down you, onto your skirt. Drenched. “Uh, let me go to the bathroom.”
“I’ll help,” Steve says, stumbling when he stands, helping you off the couch. You’re certain he won’t be much help but you accept his assistance anyway.
You’ve noticed how Steve gets into these dad modes. Like, one time Robin choked on a lemon seed that was in her water and Steve wouldn’t let her drink without him checking her cup for two months afterwards. And there was the time that Eddie, clumsier than Robin, tripped and scraped his knee, and Steve acted like Eddie was five. So now it’s your turn, ushered into his bathroom while he props you against the counter and scrounges around for a towel.
“It’s okay,” you say, “I’m just wet.”
“I got it,” he assures, running a washcloth under the tap. You’re sure he thinks he’s helping, as much as he can when he’s inebriated, but you’re very certain a wet washcloth won’t help. He swats your hands away when you try to take it from him, and he starts blotting the wine.
His hair in your face smells fruity, like his hairspray. “Steve, I don’t think this is doin’ much.”
His brows are knitted in concentration. “‘s almost out.”
You look down. It is not.
But you let him feel important anyway. Watching as he dabs and dabs and dabs over your sternum. His breath tickling your neck. And now that the shock has worn off, you’re getting turned on again. By his attention, how he’s trying to help, how his big fucking paws are right there. You’re practically begging god to make him do something when his hands start wandering.
Steve brings the towel over your breast, blotting as usual, then slowing. Like it’s clicking what he’s doing. And then he presses a little harder, lingers for a while. His palm touching you more than the cloth. His eyes drift up to yours as he moves towards the other. And instead of blotting, his hand cups it.
You simply let him.
The cold has made your nipples perk up under your bralette. Steve’s thumb swipes over the hardened nub. You both stare at each other, willing the other to do more, but it’s left in a stalemate. Steve throws the washcloth in the sink, lets his hand slide over your heart.
“Heartbeat’s so fast,” he observes softly. “What’s that all about, huh?”
You swallow hard. “Lot of excitement.”
His eyes drift down. “I can tell.”
You take a big breath, looking away from him. “Do you have something I could borrow?”
“Like what?”
“Like, a shirt?”
Steve blinks, looking sad. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, prob’ly.”
As you walk behind him to his room, you decide you’ll throw him a bone whenever the opportunity arises. You certainly can’t have him thinking you don’t like his attention. You watch him clumsily rifle through his closet before he finds a black sweater that’ll match your skirt well enough.
It makes you dizzy how it smells like him, even freshly laundered. “Thank you.”
“Mhm.” Steve simply stands in front of you, hands on his hips, lips pulled in tight. Looking at you like he’s thinking really hard.
You bite your lip, heartbeat fastening again. You turn from him to place the shirt on his bed, which seems to snap him out of whatever stupor he’s in. He clears his throat and turns to leave, but you call after him.
“Steve?”
He turns, brows furrowed. “Yeah?”
You inhale deep before slowly peeling your shirt off of you. Taking your time, letting it catch on the curve of your breasts. You let it slip to his floor and you continue watching him. Watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, his nostrils flaring, chestnut eyes staring right at your bra-clad chest. You’re so hot you’re beginning to sweat - and then you reach behind you to unclasp your wet bralette.
Steve’s jaw drops comically slow as it joins your shirt on the floor. You can’t help but to smile.
“What do you think?” you ask quietly.
He shakes his head slowly. “Think you’ve been holdin’ out on me.”
You press your tits together with your arms as you shrug at him, turning around to fetch the sweater he’s given you. You figure it’ll be enough for him to know you’re wearing his shirt, chest bare underneath, but then he says, “Your skirt is wet, too.”
You don’t turn to look at him as you grab the fabric, leaning forward for it. “Don’t suppose you have one for me to borrow?”
You didn’t even hear him walking up behind you. You’re suddenly pressed into the bed, his hand pushing down on the space between your shoulder blades to keep you against the mattress. Your breath hitches, stomach flipping. You feel how hard he is against your ass, and he grinds once before sliding down to kneel behind you.
“What are you doing?” you breathe.
“Checkin’ out the damage.” His hands push your skirt up, up, up, until it rests above your ass. You feel his breath fanning across the back of your thighs. “Y’know,” he continues casually, “since you said you’re wet.”
Your breaths turn shallow. Steve’s hands, warm and soft, run up the backs of your thighs slowly. You part them for him. Heat rushes to your face when he laughs behind you, but he doesn’t say anything. Must just be overjoyed that you’re letting him do this.
His hands move to your hips, squeezing them slightly before tucking his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You’re so dizzy it almost makes you sick - but you wait patiently as he slowly pulls them down.
“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” he observes quietly. Lets your underwear hang around your knees. “All this for me?”
“Yes,” you whine. “Been - you’ve been working me up for weeks.”
“I know.”
You want to call him a bastard, but you’re stunned into silence when he parts your folds. The sound it makes is embarrassing to you, but Steve coos at it. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy. Knew you would.”
You exhale shakily. “Steve….”
“Fucked my fist to it,” he admits. “But I didn’t think it’d be so tiny.”
And then one of his fingers presses against your hole. Just enough. You short circuit, electric running through you, knees going weak. Steve’s free hand steadies them, fingers splayed out along your skin.
“Can you even get any fingers in here?” he mumbles. Circles your little hole, your eyes crossing. “Know your hands are so tiny, too.”
“No,” you force yourself to say. “Not really.”
He sounds contemplative. “Just one of mine would split you in two.”
His finger trails down, resting at your swollen clit for a few short moments before he pulls away, yanking your underwear back up.
You feel more than upset. Devastated that he’s pulled away. You want to grab him, cunt hurting from the teasing with no relief.
“Steve-“
“You know I don’t fuck without a date first,” he grins. As if he didn’t just ruin your life with whatever that was. Like he didn’t just turn you into his cock-dumb whore. Jesus Christ, if he told you to spend the rest of the night topless, you would. “So here’s what’s gonna happen, okay?”
Then he’s back, leaning over you, pushing you into his bed. His cock really straining against his jeans while he presses into your ass. He puts his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna get dressed ‘nd we’re gonna party, ‘kay? Then tomorrow I’m gonna pick you up and take you for breakfast.” He ruts himself into you and you moan. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m usually a dinner guy but I can’t wait that long to have you. How’s nine sound?”
“You… there’s n-no way you’re going to be up at nine.”
He scoffs. “‘ve got an alarm clock.”
You press your ass back into him. “You’ll forget.”
“Haven’t forgotten you so far.” Grinds against you again.
“You remember when you’re sober?”
“Honey. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”
Then he’s off of you, leaving your tits pressed to his mattress, overwhelmed. He walks towards his desk while you desperately try to stand - your legs are still shaking. Your fingers curl around his sweater just as he comes back, arm marked up with a pen.
BREAKFAST AT 9 WITH HOTTIE :)
“See? Won’t forget.”
You’re still not so sure - you’ll have to wait and see. As you finally start pulling his sweater on, he grabs your bra, tucking it into his back pocket. “I’ll wash it for you,” he says, patting it.
“Yeah? After you cum in it?”
Steve smiles deviously. “You wanna watch me do it?”
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:
A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would
B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be
C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)
And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"
Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!
Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.
Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.
Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.
Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.
Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?
Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
bad girl
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
word count: 4.1k
summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+
warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)
a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh
you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.
he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.
you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.
there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.
"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"
"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."
there's another silence.
"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"
you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."
joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.
not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."
you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.
you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.
it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.
sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.
you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.
place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.
you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).
you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.
"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.
and then you register it, a couple of moments later.
you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.
you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.
"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.
you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"
"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."
you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"
he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.
"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.
"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"
he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.
"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."
there's a long pause.
"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."
your eyes widen.
"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."
you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.
"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."
there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.
he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.
you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.
you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.
his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.
you want him to say something. you need him to say something.
he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"
it's only then that he looks at you.
"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."
it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.
"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".
joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.
"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"
"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"
it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end
"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"
"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.
"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."
"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.
"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.
"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."
he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.
"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"
you swallow and click back to another tab.
"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.
you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.
"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.
he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.
he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.
'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.
he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.
"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"
you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.
"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."
you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.
"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.
he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"
you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.
as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.
as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"
you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.
he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.
"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."
he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.
"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.
"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."
"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"
he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"
"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.
as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."
you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.
he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.
"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."
you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.
you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.
"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.
"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.
"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.
he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.
"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."
"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."
"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."
you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.
that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?
you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.
"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.
"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"
he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly
he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.
"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"
"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"
you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."
"now beg."
two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-
"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"
he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.
"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.
good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.
you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.
"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"
his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-
"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"
that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.
he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.
after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.
"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.
"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.
"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"
he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.
before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"
he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."
you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.
"good." you say, and joel smiles.
"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."
"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.
that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.
#joel miller smut#tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#joel miller x f!reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
hey mae! it’s been awhile since i’ve sent an ask but im always reading your work girl! i love how you write tbh. if you’re up to it do you think you could write something with poly marauders, where the reader has trouble eating and making themself eat due to poor appetite. my appetite really does come and go and ever since covid (maybe before) it’s like eating makes me feel revolted. sometimes i just don’t feel like eating bc of other things like depression, adhd, anxiety. i was just wondering if you could write something with the boys helping out the reader with finding out what sounds good, cooking, and eating if possible. sometimes having someone around to talk to and hang out with makes it so much easier to deal -🌶️
Hey Pepper, thank you sm! And thanks for being patient with me <3
cw: lack of appetite, mention of skipping meals
poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 1.1k words
The sun’s going down, the last dregs of its light spilling brilliant and golden over the book in your lap, and you can feel your boyfriends starting to get restless. Well, two of them.
“If we’re missing half the ingredients,” Sirius says, trailing James into the kitchen, “it’s not going to be any good.”
James only tsks. “Ye of little faith. That’s what improvisation is for.” He starts pulling things down from the cabinet.
“You’re not even going to glance at the recipe?”
“I don’t need to. I know the general vibe.”
“Help!” Sirius calls towards the living room. “He’s gone off the rails. Remus, come fix it.”
Remus turns around to look over the back of the sofa, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. He’s sitting right up against you despite the couch being empty, not that you mind. Remus is sort of like a cat that wants to be near you but not always to be pet. His touches are often like this, passive gestures like a hand on your head or his thigh pressed against yours. It works for you just fine; you can feel the affection bleeding into you from any point of contact.
“Don’t you think we should just eat out?” Sirius asks, tilting his head and doing that thing with his eyes that you all pretend doesn’t work on you.
Impressively, Remus keeps his face impassive. “I’m having leftover brussels sprouts,” he replies, “so it’s not really my concern. Anyway, James has a good history with not following recipes.”
“Exactly,” James says, grinning at Sirius, who scowls. But then he fixes his gaze on Remus. “So why are you having that, Rem? Have what I’m making.”
“Because they’re going to go bad, and I’m not hungry enough for a big meal.” The last part is said somewhat quieter, directed towards the living room as he turns back around and picks up his own book.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see James frown, but he glances at Sirius and they seem to collectively decide not to push it. Remus’ appetite isn’t much better than yours. He has his better days, but it’s not uncommon for him not to feel up to what your other boyfriends would consider a whole meal or to eat only chocolate until Sirius hounds him into something more substantial.
James looks to you hopefully. “You’ll have some, won’t you sweetheart?”
You wince, hating to let him down, and from the look on James’ face he clocks the guilt in your expression before even you get a chance to say, “I don’t think I’m really up to it tonight, either.”
James deflates, but he’s clearly trying to put on a brave face. “That’s alright. I think I’ll just save it for another night, then.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, setting your book facedown on the armrest and turning around to face him more fully. “You could still make it and just put leftovers in the freezer. Maybe I’ll have some tomorrow.” You wince again as soon as you say it. No promises, though.
The smile James gives you is comforting if not totally satisfied. “It’s okay. I’ll just make it another time, it’s not a problem.”
You return his smile, close-lipped. Sirius is looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s sizing you up.
“What are you going to eat?” he asks.
“Hm?”
“What are you going to have instead?” You hesitate, and he tilts his head knowingly, a piece of hair slipping from behind his ear to drape over his shoulder. “You need to have something, especially since you didn’t have lunch.”
From the kitchen, James looks at you. “You didn’t?”
“I just…don’t feel like it.” It’s a feeble argument even to your own ears, and the look Sirius gives you says that he thinks so, too.
“You can’t miss two meals,” he says obstinately. “Even Remus is having some brussels sprouts.”
You look to Remus to be offended at the even Remus comment, but he only shrugs. You’re on your own.
“What sounds good?” he asks you.
You try not to pout. “Nothing. Everything sounds gross.”
“C’mon, baby.” Sirius leans against the countertop. “It doesn’t have to be strictly dinner food, yeah? Just anything that sounds like you’d be willing to eat it.”
You think for a minute. Remus touches the back of his hand to your leg, knuckles soothing over the skin beside your knee.
“I guess…ice cream sounds okay,” you say hesitantly. “But I know that’s not exactly nutritious…”
“Would a milkshake be close enough?” James pipes up.
You shrug. “I guess.”
He grins. “I can do that for you, love. Just gimme a sec.”
James is a loud cook. You go back to your book while cabinet doors slam and the blender whirs and you hear a muffled “oh, shit” as something is undoubtedly dropped on the floor, but a minute later he’s bringing you a glass of something thick and chocolate-y looking. You smile at the added garnish of mint and a straw, reaching for it.
“Thanks, Jamie.”
He winks. “Anytime.”
Remus is the only one courteous enough not to obviously watch while you take a sip, and you feel your eyebrows raise as you look up at James.
“This is really good,” you say. He practically glows at the praise. “I didn’t even know we had chocolate ice cream.”
Sirius barks a laugh, and James’ smile widens.
“What?” you ask.
“We don’t,” he admits. “Will it ruin your appetite if I tell you it’s not actually ice cream?”
You shake your head, sucking at the straw. “I’m already drinking it, so.”
James beams. He really is looking very proud of himself. “It’s a protein shake. A pretty balanced meal, actually.”
“Nice!” You grin at him, taking another hearty slurp mostly because you know it’ll please him. “It’s perfect, thank you.”
“Gotta keep our sweetheart fed,” he says, bending down for a kiss. Sirius and Remus’ hums of approval nearly harmonize, and you and James share an elated look while they both do their best to pretend like it didn’t happen.
“Can I try?” Remus asks, and you tilt the cup towards him in invitation.
He wraps his lips around your straw, sipping hesitantly. He looks mildly impressed.
“Could you make me one of those too?”
From the look on James’ face, he’d be delighted to. “Course, love.” He plants a smacker on Remus’ cheek and nearly knocks Sirius over as he beelines for the kitchen.
“This is just excellent,” Sirius gripes, but you see the satisfaction in his expression. “Now that you two have blown up his ego, I’ll have to eat something he makes too.”
“Correct,” James says brightly. “And you should be so lucky.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x gn!reader#gn!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders blurb#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders oneshot#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#marauders era#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader
866 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hear me out.....pretty...pretty Please, some general fluff headcannons for 141 and Konig?! I'm desperate for some fluff. Stuff like how soft they r how they r at home, kisses that sort of thing? Id die of happiness if u did!!!!!?????
141 + König General Fluff Headcannons
Warnings: fluff🩷, mild NSFW references
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Simon Ghost Riley-
It takes him a while to open up to you, but once he does? He's yours forever.
He is more of a listener than a talker, and he is damn good at listening
You always have to be within his line of sight. He always wants to make sure you're safe.
Definitely gets up before you in the mornings and loves to wake you up with coffee
Not big on PDA, but he doesn't mind holding your hand out in public.
Doesn't say I love you often, but when he does, it turns your whole world on an axis
Says no to a getting a dog at first, but when you finally get him to say yes? The dog is that man's best friend.
He's not a very good cook when you first get together, but he teaches himself in secret one year to surprise you on your birthday by making you your favorite meal. (Your heart nearly melted at the proud smile on his face when he told you he made it)
This man is loyal as hell. You will NEVER catch him looking anyway at anyone the way he looks at you. No person's beauty in his mind will ever compare to yours
Loves going for long car rides with you. Weekend trips, day trips, whatever works for him. Will ALWAYS have his hand resting on your thigh
He developed a ritual with you, where he will wear one of his hoodies for a few days straight so it smells like him when he goes on deployments
Secretly loves when you wear his dog tags. It's a kink of his he won't voice out loud
Loves to spoon you in bed. Very rarely will he not be holding you, or touching you in some way when he sleeps
Takes him a while, but he'll start to look forward to holidays with your family. They welcome him with open arms, and for the first time in a long time, Simon feels like he has a true family who loves him
John Price-
Loves to hear about your day. First thing he asks you when you come home after work is how was your day? And this man GENUINELY listens
Loves to spoil you. Man gives inadvertent sugar daddy vibes. You even hint at something you like or want? He will get it for you
Huge on spontaneous dinner dates. Loves to come home randomly and tell you he's taking you for a night out
Literally has the hardest time saying no to you. For ANYTHING.
He tries to act all tough, but this man is so whipped for you
Loves when you rest your feet in his lap on the couch, as he loves to massage them for you after a long day
Fight me, but this man loves to take baths with you. He loves to relax in the hot water, with you against his chest. He can literally fall asleep like this
Always insists on paying when you go out to eat. Never, ever let's you foot the bill (if you pout enough, he may let you, but will feel bad about it afterward)
Will watch any TV show you want. He says he hates romantic dramas, but he's just as invested as you are
Kisses with him are always longing, and always want you leaving more
Man is a Valentines Day legend. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry, fancy dinners THE WORKS
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
An amazingly fun boyfriend to have.
Johnny always wants to do something fun, go somewhere fun
He's surprisingly amazing at giving massages
Doesn't mind PDA, he'll randomly kiss you in public, hug you, and hold you close. He doesn't care who sees.
Loves to try new things. Whether it's food, movies, or something to spice up the bedroom, the man will never say no to trying something at least once
Not a morning person, and he will have an iron tight grip on you in an attempt to force you to stay in bed longer with him every morning (he always ends up succeeding)
His ideal date with you is a pub. Something with good food, good beer, and even better company.
Loves to "mislead" you about when he's coming home from a mission, because he absolutely adores the look on your face when he surprises you earlier than expected
Adores double dates. Loves to hang out with couple friends.
When you're walking on a sidewalk, he'll always push you on the inside so you're away from the cars
Definitely is that boyfriend that will send you a dozen tik tok reels a day
Please go to an amusement park with him. He'd be so happy winning the various carnival games for you, getting you any stuffed animal of your choosing
You two cannot do surprises for one another. You get too excited and end up telling each other gifts or surprises the minute you plan them
Kyle Gaz Garrick-
This man loves to surprise you with flowers. Had a bad day? Flowers. Wants you to feel a little extra loved? Flowers. Thought you looked cute one day? Flowers.
Loves to go to furniture stores with you. Even if you don't actually need it, the two of you can spend hours looking around at various stores
Enjoys cooking for you. He's one to try new recipes, and loves seeing your reactions to them.
Firmly believe this man loves to dress up as a couple and that Halloween is his absolute favorite holiday.
Adorably loves to have a "chore" day once a week with you, where you both do house chores together for a few hours, while each of you gets to pick what song plays in the background
So supportive of any hobby you might have. Like to paint? He'll continuously buy you paint brushes. Love video games? He'll buy you any new one that comes out he'd think you'd enjoy.
Whenever you guys go out, he always orders something you like for his meal, in case you don't like yours
If you have longer hair, he loves to play with it and help you style it
Best movie buddy ever. He LOVES going to the movies with you, and will get you all the popcorn and snacks you desire
Will hold your bags for you while you shop, and will fight you if you try to carry your own
König-
Possibly the sweetest boyfriend out of all of them
You will catch him staring at you ALL the time. Any second he gets, he will be looking at you
Loves date night ins. Cooking together or getting takeout and cuddling on the couch together while watching a movie? This man'll be in heaven
Loves to offer you his arm in public. Plays into his size kink when your small hand wraps around his bicep whenever you walk anywhere.
Man will WORSHIP you in bed. Wants nothing more than to make you happy in every aspect of your life.
Is more of a cat person than a dog person, so you two end up getting quite a few kitties around the house
Always kisses you like you're delicate. Loves to place gentle, loving kisses to your lips when you least except it, and his cheeks always flush a deep pink when he does
Will always shower with you. When he's home from missions you very, very rarely shower alone. Loves to help you shampoo your hair
Adores ADORRESSS when you wear his clothes. Triggers the man's size kink like no other when his shirts are like dresses on you
Amazing at aftercare. Always wants to make sure you're satisfied. Will warm a towel for you, get your water-whatever you need.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#cod imagine#simon riley imagine#mw2 imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost mw2#konig x reader#konig imagine#konig mw2#john price#captain price#price x reader#price imagine#soap mctavish#soap imagine#soap x reader#gaz imagine#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader
3K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sgchiobusonly
SG Babes
lesbiangalio
u can nerf me but you cant nerf these fat tits
bludichartres
De l'infinito, universo e mondi
casualpapereaglekid
Untitled
