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devilmademewriteit · 8 months

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If You Lie Down With Me

pairing: (pre-ellie) dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: there’s only one guy in all of boston that can get you a morning after pill. unfortunately, on top of being a huge asshole, Joel Miller also happens to be your dad’s closest peer.

warnings: rough sex / smut (masturbation, fem penetration, oral [m receiving]) so 18+ only content; unprotected sex; light choking & restraint; light dom/sub dynamic; fem afab reader; reader has long-ish hair (that gets touched); plot-typical violence (guns, death); plot deviations (no Tess); medication ingestion; pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel); dubcon (slight intoxication, power imbalance, no explicit consent).

word count: 6.5k+

no use of y/n in this fic

alright y’all I’m baaaaAAAaack! so this is basically the other version of Dark But Just a Game that I started back when I was writing it & figured I’d finish it to get out of my hiatus. like any devilmademewriteit fic, it’s dark and nasty and deprived like meeeeeee <3 hope u enjoy !

don’t forget to reblog, check out my masterlist, sign up for the taglist, & leave any comments / feedback / & suggestions!

(ps: new part of Salvatore up next !)

—

“three times the guy I ever thought I would meet, so don't say you're over me when we both know that you lie”

— lana del rey, ‘If You Lie Down With Me’

—

Fuck.

Waking up to a racing heart, a pounding head, and a stomach swimming with nausea was never ideal, although it was always a better experience alone — when you could squint and hiss at the light slicing through the weaknesses in the drapes without hearing your groans echoed by a lower, louder, and annoyingly more pitiful voice.

Right. What was his name?

Jared? Jordan? Jermaine?

Ah, who cares.

If he’d wanted a safe place to nurse his hangover, he shouldn’t have fallen asleep in your bed. Sure, the odds of dad being conscious at this hour (especially the odds after a party like last night’s) were Kate Moss — no, Rolling Stones — slim, but the man would get up at some point, meaning that this poor J-whatever was likely sleeping through his only window of escape from certain homicide.

You whisper. You shake him gently. You gingerly tap the roundness of his bicep.

Huh — Not bad.

You congratulate last-night-you for reeling in this morning’s good-looking catch.

Still… nothing. Not a twitch. Nary a croaked ‘lemmesleep’ graces your ears.

After loosing an exasperated sigh and running through your options, you decide to take the most effective (and least girl-next-door) route. The corner of your elbow collides with his ribs, and the boy jumps up, his loose, blonde curls as wild as his eyes, searching the room for his attacker.

You want to smile at the scene, but the motion hurts your head.

“Y’gotta go,” you croak out, thumbs rubbing circles against your aching temples.

He collapses onto his back, copying your movement with his own fingers to his brow. “God. I feel like shit.”

Despite muttering your agreement, you let your eyelashes flutter closed and your weight turn you away from last night’s paramour: no use figuring out who he is after the (f)act — that just makes it personal.

After a few breaths, the boy moves back up to a shakey sitting position.

Probably sourcing for his clothes.

He reeks of booze and sex — but then again, so do you. His roughened, unfamiliar tenor climbs to barely above a whisper, “Z’something stuck on my leg… blood, or something…”

His interrupting your suffering comes as a deeply unwelcome annoyance, so you try to sort him out to clear him out: “Prolly just the condom,” you mumble, rolling back onto your shoulders, reluctantly supervising his movements.

He lifts up fully, sitting criss-cross and pulling his calf towards him.

“No,” he tries to laugh but succumbs to the nausea, settling for a low breath instead, “S’blood, dude, from beer darts — and I didn’t use a condom.”

Your eyes immediately dart over, settling on his naked, wretched, shivering form. He notices your ire and the hitching of your throat, immediately defensive.

“I asked if you wanted to.”

Unfortunately, he had. The memories of your drunken entanglement start to resurface inside your mind. “It just feels better without one.” This time, you curse last-night-you for being such a careless, inconsiderate, horny bastard.

You’re making problems for me, girl.

“J’s get out.”

J-whatever spares no time complying, collecting his few strewn belongings and staggering out the front door. Once it slides shut, so too do your poor, weary eyes.

Shit.

There goes the afternoon.

Getting your hands on condoms in the QZ was at least fifteen times easier than snatching a morning after pill. Those were a hot commodity, especially among the younger, less responsible crowds.

Luckily for you, as a member of aforementioned younger, less responsible crowds, you knew where your best chances lay in finding whatever it was you needed (if what you needed was deeply immoral or wholly illegal). Unluckily for you, that ‘best chance’ happened to be your dad’s closest and longest-running business partner: temperamental, judgemental, frustratingly competent, Joel ‘Local Asshole’ Miller.

But that could all be dealt with after another eight hours of sleep.

—

Opportunity strikes sooner than expected.

Miller’s in your living room by the time you wake up, the low rumble of his southern baritone recognizable even through the closed door. After scrambling to throw on some clothes, you press an ear to the chipping paint, hoping to determine the number of bodies gathered in your home.

Not many. Just Miller (and the old man, of course).

The latter’s presence bodes ill for you. This would all have to be done in secret, which was not an uncommon strategy where ever the former was involved. No one dealt with Joel Miller to conduct clean-cut, wholesome activities. No one was calling him up for a spare copy of the holy book.

No, getting him alone was essential.

A drink slams down on the counter. After a good, patient ten minutes, you hear your father (‘s rather crude way of) excusing himself to the washroom and heavy-set footsteps decrescendoing down the hall.

This is it.

You slip through the door.

At first, your company takes no notice of you, his eyes still glued to the maps and papers littering the counter before him.

Then, a low grumble: “fun night?”

His voice makes you weak in the knees — an involuntary, near ritual-like response you’d noticed around your mid teens and hadn’t managed to kick yet.

You swallow before responding. “Yes.”

It’s all you manage to muster. Miller finally looks up, wincing slightly as his back straightens. He looks tired, at least more than usual, with his wild, grey-streaked hair tousled and the lines by his mouth cutting deep into his skin.

You’re sure you don’t look much better, a suspicion proven by the man’s slowly spreading, barely-noticeable smirk. That gaze makes you self conscious, mute; your right hand snakes up, absent-mindedly dragging a fallen bra strap back to its proper position.

“So, what was his name?”

He’s teasing, sure, but Miller was there last night. He’d always had sharper perceptions than your father did, especially — and ironically — when it came to you. That skill tended to squander your confidence as the daughter of a modern-day mafia-boss and the owner of a hard, violent heart.

Rushed by the sound of your father’s footsteps, you default to honesty.

“I don’t remember.”

“Try.”

“Josh.”

Amusement flits across his stern expression. “Again.”

“Jamie.”

“Warmer.”

“J-J-something—”

“Gettin’ colder, sweetheart—”

“I need the pill.”

It just tumbles out, an exasperated, desperate plea. Miller, a bit taken aback by your candor, drains of his previous playfulness. You almost notice the split second those dark eyes glaze over. For a second, you’re almost convinced he’s distracted by his imagination’s recreations of the act that had you making such a request.

You almost notice the tingling between your thighs.

He stares. You stare back.

Fuck.

It was moments like this that made you wish Tess was still around. Oh, she wouldn’t be any kinder — no, not at all — but she’d certainly be more professional. Tess was all work, no play. Joel was…

You’re enjoying this, you bastard. You’re enjoying that I’m cornered like this, aren’t you?

The bathroom handle clicks when it turns, and your heart drops into your toes.

Maybe Miller really wasn’t going to help you. Maybe he didn’t have the pill and you’d just embarrassed yourself for nothing. Or, maybe he did, but preferred outing you to your dad at the very first opportunity — letting him deal with you the only way he knew how.

Your fears seem confirmed: his eyes leave the grace of your own, trailing back to his big, splayed hands on the countertop. Unwelcome tears burn the corners of your eyes as the panic begins to set in, as footsteps begin to fall…

“Mine. Tonight.”

It’s low and rushed, but it’s clear, cutting off to the sound of your father lumbering in. A man who saw, thought, and lived through transactions, he’s (thankfully) blissfully ignorant of the tension collapsing around him.

“Morning,” he throws your way.

A taunt, of course — it was well past noon.

You nod in acknowledgement, slowly backing into the doorway of your sacred, beckoning room. They resume their conversation from before, letting you sink into irrelevance.

Before shutting yourself in, you catch a few of Miller’s hushed words. They’re spoken casually to your father but, you later decide, surely meant for you:

“Not that one kid — Jeremy — don’t trust him.”

The door seals (well, not seals… it creaks on its rusty hinges and squeezes into its shrinking frame), and relief courses through you, reaching the very tips of your fingers.

That only lasts a minute.

Soon, you’re negotiating with the rising anxiety of being at Miller’s place alone, asking for his help with a problem that could’ve been avoided if you’d only kept your legs shut.

Alone with Miller, the both of you knowing that you hadn’t.

Crawling back under your covers, you begrudgingly make a vow of celibacy. If this was the cost of attention and a (potential) mid-range orgasm, you were about to become very frugal.

Dreams come easy, but they don’t come sweet.

Flashes of last night’s sins overlay Joel Miller’s unintelligible speech, his voice from the next room over lulling you into a rather confusing, disturbed sleep.

—

At nighttime, it’s a short walk to his building.

Down this alley, past this street, up this back stairwell. Part of being in with Boston’s seedy underbelly gained you access to the best and most up-to-date intel; by the age of twelve, you could run the safest — well, least policed — post-curfew routes from memory.

(Which had come in handy in situations a lot more dire than this.)

Sneaking in was easy, although you cursed him for being so preoccupied during the day. Coming in at this hour required some delicate maneuvers through a half-shattered window, and a less-than-graceful leap down left you with a nick on your cheekbone and a shallow cut along the side of your hand.

Thankfully, the blood mostly dries on your walk up the six or eight or ten flights of stairs. You don’t resent the exercise; it feels good to move, putting the jitters building in every still moment in abeyance.

Still moments like the kind that passes after a barely-audible, coded knock delivered by a girl sucking on the side of her hand, almost wishing for the door not to open.

It does.

He’s in jeans — dirty jeans, dusty — and a simple flannel. It’s Miller — it’s Miller at his most Joel-Miller-like-ness.

So why am I so fucking nervous?

He holds the door open, brows knitting at the sight of your hand in your mouth.

“Window,” You offer.

He mouthes a silent ‘ah,’ before leaning forward to duck his head out the door and, in the process, somewhat sandwiching you against his chest.

Maybe it’s because he smells like forest-fires, but your skin burns red-hot.

Miller looks both ways, checking the status of the hall (empty), then nudges you into the dim light of his place with the weight of his hand against your lower back.

The door shuts behind you.

You’d been here at least a million times before, but the thoughts rising now feel so… new. The jacket strewn on the side of the sagging sofa is his — Joel Miller has sat at this table and showered, slept, fucked inside these walls.

Cut it out. It’s just ‘cause you’re alone. And older.

But what about it, now that you were alone and older?

Old enough to know what goes on between a man and a woman and a little bit of desperation at just the right amounts… and there sure was a lot of him, and some desperation, too…

“Nervous?”

Your feet hit the floor, all thoughts evaporating at the sound of his word. Blushing, you try to de-code his taunt, spoken with playfulness and too much condescension.

“Wh — what’d you — nervous for what? No.”

He’s already across the room, sifting through a box of miscellaneous items. A yellowed lamp shade catches his side-profile, illuminates the smirk spreading across his face. Then, a low command:

“Relax,” and your spine settles, acceding to his wish. “Some girls get nervous, y’know, takin’ it the first time.”

Oh.

You clear your throat, daring to take a step into his place, incensed enough to trace the indents and stab-marks decorating his kitchen table.

“No.”

You’re taken aback by the accuracy and the strength underpinning your answer. It’s true, you aren’t afraid, and hadn’t been afraid of much in a very long while.

What’s a Joel Miller to your best friend’s public hanging? What’s he to a dozen rows of semi automatics raining down on your zigzagging toes? What’s he to a period cramp?

Like a bolt of lightning hitting you in the chest, that cocky, gauche and indelicate rebel you’d grown into reappears.

“I’ve been told I take things pretty well my first time.” The tension rises — this time, at your command — just as Joel does, carrying a leather pouch in his right hand. “And it’s not, anyways,” you add for good measure.

The leather drops onto the marked-up table. Joel crosses his arms.

“Not sellin’ me on givin’ you one of these, sweetheart.”

He gestures to the bag.

A mock-frown as you draw closer to him. His eyes, although severe, reflect the playfulness dancing in your own.

“Why not?” You ask, voice dripping with false innocence.

Joel’s gaze doesn’t stray as it hardens, focused on your own. “They’re for accidents, mistakes, attacks,” he explains, deep and dangerous, “Not girls who can’t keep their pretty lil’ legs together.”

Oof.

On one hand, it sounds like he’s genuinely chastising you for your careless behaviour. But, on the other, he sounds jealous, taunting, hungry.

I’ll play that hand.

Sleeping all day had left you wide awake, and that long-time, school-girl crush on the man before you was dying for content to fantasize about. Even if he pushed you off, you’d get to feel the weight of his hands on your body, right?

So, you return with a taunt of your own: “You think my legs are pretty?”

He shakes his head, his signature scowl spreading as he mostly ignores you. “I think you should at least use condoms,” a breath, “N’ know their first names.”

Ouch.

“I usually do.” you murmur, “and it broke last night.”

“Bullshit.”

“What do you mean, bullshit?”

Joel sighs and lowers himself into one of the four old, rickety chairs lining the table. His hand comes up to his temples and you notice how his legs, exhausted, part.

The man doesn’t deign to respond.

Irritation begins to well in your core, sneaking through your arms and up into your throat. The muscle in your jaw must be twitching like crazy.

How does he know? How the fuck does he always know?

Across the QZ, as a skilled liar and born and bred bandit, people tended to hold whatever image of you that you’d crafted for them.

Not Joel. Never Joel.

He saw through you in a way that had always felt… intimate. It was one of the reasons, you guessed, he didn’t dare spend too much time alone with you and why you’d always been curious about him (as a man, of course). Now, there was no avoiding your obvious vulnerability from either of you — you were stripped bare, your dressings in his hand.

It makes you want to flee as much as it makes you want to leap into his arms.

You snatch up the pouch, opening it up to find a mass of differently coloured and shaped pills. Rifling through, you ignore Joel’s stare boring into your hands’ erratic search.

“Yellow ones,” he says.

“I know what they look like,” you retort.

“‘Course you do.”

He moves faster than he should be able to.

One moment, your palm is slicing through the air, headed straight for the highest point of his cheek. The next, you’re facedown on the table. Your attacking hand is caged in by a much larger, much stronger one, pinned to the decaying wood; the other, he pins behind your back. Pills litter the floor — Joel’s boot crunches into a wayward one as he adjusts himself behind you, leaning over your struggling, smaller frame, immobilizing you with his weight.

“Let go of me—” you hiss, words smothered by the wooden surface pressed to your profile.

“—Shut up ‘n listen,” he commands, leaning over to tower over his trapped victim. “Try that again n’I’ll do worse’n kill you. Understand?”

Despite the authenticity of his threat, a strangled laugh wracks your lungs.

“Gonna turn me in for contraband, Miller? Watch them gun me down in the square?”

You smile through your heavy breaths. There, behind your hips, is a growing movement indicative of some other kind of punishment he’s got in mind.

“Or,” you continue on coyly, “Give me another reason to need that pill?”

Joel pauses, untangling your meaning.

Then, an exasperated scoff. His hold tightens on your wrist and you wince. “You always thinkin’ of the fastest way to get a man to fuck you?”

“Only when his cock’s pressed against my ass.”

He goes quiet — only for a moment. Somewhere outside, rounds echo through the night.

“Z’that what you want?” His voice is deep and threatening, promising of the kind of hard, mind-numbing fuck you’d been craving for weeks.

After a hard swallow, you nod, catching the raise of his eyebrows in your periphery.

A moment passes as he mulls over your answer. Only your shallow, anticipatory breaths populate the quiet space.

“Alright.”

And he lets go.

Heart racing, wrists aching, you flip around to his neutral, impenetrable expression.

“Get down on your knees.”

Without taking a moment to decide whether you’re living anything more than just a really fucked up dream, you sink to your knees, folding your hands in your lap (to stop them from shaking). Before you, Joel’s bulge twitches while he watches you yielding to submission, and you try to ignore the excitement building between your own two legs.

His eyes burn into yours: black, starved, weighty. He tells you to shut your own and you do, unable to resist the tone of his command. Within the self-imposed darkness, Joel’s following order — ‘open your mouth,’ — parts your lips as if they were under his spell. You wonder what you must look like to him, needy and ready to receive whatever you’re given.

He speaks again.

“Show me your tongue, angel.”

The gruffness punctuating his arousal doesn’t let you stand a chance. You let your mouth fall open wider.

Next, there’s rustling. You try to remember whether or not he’d had on a belt, listening and failing to hear the soft clinks of a buckle coming undone.

Too soon, something wraps around your chin — thick, calloused fingers — and the pressure of a thumb running down the middle of your tongue sends a rush of electricity down every stacked vertebrae. It’s slow, tantalizingly slow, as if the man were trying to memorize the feel of every groove, ridge, and bud on his leisurely way out.

When Joel drops his hand, a small weight remains at the back of your throat.

“Close.”

You do, opening your eyes to meet his own: severe and wanting — or wanting for severity?

It’s a pill. That much is obvious once the taste begins to spread, bitter and chemical and totally gag-worthy. He follows up with ‘swallow’ for his own sick enjoyment; by the time he says it, it’s clear that you already have.

What kind of game is this, Miller?

Your cheeks burn when your company kneels down. He places his big, broad hand partly on your neck, partly to the side of your jaw, and you’re still too taken aback to tear it off. The feel of his rough palm against your racing pulse silences every urge to enact revenge. Words don’t come — too quickly forgotten on one’s knees.

“You’re way too easy for your own good, sweetheart,” he near-whispers, shooting to kill in a blow packed tight with condescension. “Don’t let me see you here again.”

And that’s it: your cue to get lost.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Miller pulls away from your reddening skin, straightening to stand. You follow suit soon after, heart pumping lead, tongue bruised by the memory of his touch (more overwhelming than the metallic residue dripping down your throat).

He turns, running a few fingers through his hair. It’s the last look you get before resigning yourself to the journey back home.

Still, before turning the rusted handle, in a brief moment of respite, of clarity, you seize the final word:

“I’m only ‘easy’ when I’m drunk. Or interested.”

Silence courses through the room as Joel registers the meaning behind your confession.

“Goodnight, Miller.”

With that, you see yourself into the hallway, checking its status before tearing into the stairwell.

You barely breathe.

He wanted me — he had to have wanted me.

Miller was a pragmatic player; surely, he’d only bother to play with toys he liked like that… right?

Right?

Unable to clear your head or cool the heat radiating through your core, you take the long way home, the distant sounds of a war between rivals soothing the cacophony of noise swimming between your ears.

—

For the next two weeks, all you’re able to think about is him.

You think about him when he’s gone and when he’s in the room, grumbling in hushed tones to your father. You think about him when you’re unable to fall asleep, letting your hands slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, imagining your own fingers as thick, tan ones running through the warmth between your legs.

He takes no notice of you — a fact you deeply resent. Even in your skimpiest clothing, he’s like a damn horse with blinders on. You decide, in the past weeks, he’d either acquired the patience of Job or purged every sinful craving from his system when he’d stuck his fingers down your throat.

Naturally, you’re more than happy when, at breakfast (two in the afternoon), your father gives you the heads up about tonight’s gathering at the Bar (which was really just an asbestos-ridden basement equipped with enough prohibition-style gadgets and architecture to host a good ‘strategic meeting’ every other month).

“Everyone’s gonna be there,” he mumbles. “Need you to keep your ears open. Had to take a couple rats out last week…”

Everyone’s gonna be there.

Smiling to yourself, your thoughts start to spin out. Business, distractions, booze. Tonight would host a million opportunities for you to get him alone.

Hope blooms through your chest.

Do your worst, Miller.

—

“Man, I wish we could’ve experienced cocktails. Straight hooch is ass.”

A peer named Mel, just a year older than yourself, cringes as she sips on whatever murky liquor’s found its way into her cup.

You don’t mind the taste so much, having grown mostly immune to its taste and burn. In fact, you’d come to welcome the subsequent lapse in breath and judgement.

There was little else in this world that made you feel alive.

“Mhm,” you respond absent-mindedly, looking for a familiar scowl among the mass of scowls peppering the crowd.

A sigh to your right. “Always awesome, having your attention.”

The criticism snaps you back into your body. You smile sheepishly at your friend, apologizing through a wince.

She shrugs, her raggedy, pin-decorated jacket jingling with the movement. “S’okay. Known you long enough to know that look.”

For that, she receives a quizzical glance.

Mel comes back with a scoff. “No victims tonight?”

“Oh god,” you shoot her a look of disgust. “Do you mind not using such weird vocabulary? Make me sound like a predator.”

As the words tumble out, you zero in on the object of your search. There he is: eyebrows knit together in concentration, drink in hand, unsurprisingly (and annoyingly) in conversation with your father. A few other stragglers are in the mix, too, but they’re easily overlooked. Time slows to a full stop in his wake —only for the briefest of seconds —

“Well since the last guy actually wound up dead a week later, I think it’s fitting.”

Once again, Mel’s managed to wrangle your interest.

You stare blankly into her onyx eyes, ringlets falling through molasses around her face. “Jeremy?”

And she’s bewildered. “You didn’t hear?”

This time, both of your heads turn in the same direction.

“Ratted to FEDRA about the storehouse off tenth,” she explains, gesturing towards Miller and your father with a tilt of her head. Famous for her bravery, she stoops into your shoulder, averting his gaze and speaking under her breath, “Judging by the way they found him, my guess is it was mostly Miller’s stuff.”

It’s as if she’d screamed it.

The subject of your conversation turns to face you right as your company’s words drift off. Despite the level of noise, the amount of people, and the cloudiness of the air, you’re trapped in the corridor of your mutual stare, cornered.

The challenge, the knowing marking his expression.

“I need some air.”

You twist into the body standing behind you, shoving row after row of criminal scum out of the way. Mel doesn’t follow — she’d never hung around to comfort you, only to inform you. A mutual, typical relationship for the age, and just how things worked in the QZ.

You slam into the door, stomping into a deserted, silent alley, empty save for a few drunk strays. Your lips begin to tingle and a scream builds inside your lungs. Stalking blindly into the night, unsure of your direction, alone in half a top and a plain, ass-length skirt, shivering despite the warmth of the air…

You’re practically begging for trouble.

Just as your eyes catch the numbers on the old, rusted street sign above, just as you realize you’re on a monitored street tonight, only safe after curfew every other Monday and Wednesday, you’re grabbed by the waist, pulled into the space between two buildings, and shoved into a sheltered nook.

A dim, yellow light clicks on automatically. There’s a door (chained closed) leading into the building to your left and darkness to your right.

And there’s Joel Miller above you, his expression indeterminable.

“You asshole,” you barely hear yourself breathe over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears before lunging forward in a useless attempt to, once again, strike his profile.

He catches your wrist, no doubt having anticipated the attack. It’s written on your face, in your eyes, in your shallow, uneven inhalations. He takes your other hand before you’ve even thought to use it, lifting it above your head and slamming it against the old stucco behind you.

“You’re violent,” he says flatly.

He tightens his hold when you struggle against it. “Proud of yourself, yeah? You’re a killer.”

That inspires a slight smirk. You half expect him to return with an ‘as if you didn’t already know that.’

Instead, he says, “Sweetheart, you didn’t even know his name.”

“You should’ve told me.”

And that’s the real source of this anger: it’s rage at being the last to know.

And for what? To protect your feelings? Since when had anyone in your life bothered to do that?

“And don’t call me ‘sweetheart’,” you add for good measure.

You’d wanted him to touch you so badly for weeks now, but here, scorned at being left in the dark and confused at the death of a paramour, you only want to get free.

“And what’d he call you?” He spits, leaning down and in, inadvertently pressing his thigh between your legs — when his breath grazes the skin of your ear, it causes them to part (against your better judgement). “Got lots of names, right?” He continues to tease, “Heard your boyfriend’s pretty one for you before I shut him up — ‘that fuckin’ slut,’ f’I’m rememberin’ right.”

Despite your rage-shakes, you’re warming at the core, Joel’s pressure against it dizzying your already-addled head. It confuses you, makes the scorn easier to access.

“How did I come up, Miller?” You exhale, jutting your chin towards him. “Couldn’t help asking for all the dirty little details, could you?”

He smiles, and the act lacks any sort of kindness. “‘Lot easier gettin’ him alone once he thought he was meetin’ you.” Joel slams your wrist harder into the wall when you try to wriggle away. “Not sure you wanna keep making that kind of impression, angel.”

It’s hard to rationalize with him so close, as his pet-names echoe inside your head. He’d used your name to enact gang-law violence on a boy who’d been inside you, and yet, all you can think, all you can hear, is the way ‘sweetheart’ sounds tumbling off his lips.

“Fucking let me go, Miller,” you manage to exasperate, resenting the begging edge to every word. “I don’t need another abstinence lecture from you.”

Kicking one ankle off balance, Joel turns you around, pressing your stomach to the wall, your back into his chest. Ignoring your whines and pitiful struggle, he wraps a free hand around your neck, pushing your head against his collarbone. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as the rough pad of his thumb traces the front of your throat.

Yes — no — yes, he wants me — no, no, this is wrong, this is so wrong —

“‘Be wasted on you, anyways,” he says, rough and earnest, like his hand sliding down your chest, your breasts, your stomach, “Startin’ to realize if I can’t fix your dad’s mistakes…” and he’s finding the hem of your skirt and yanking it up, bunching the fabric around your hips —

“Might as well take advantage of them.”

He moves hungrily. He’s everywhere, sliding into your underwear and across your breasts, his big arms and suffocating biceps enveloping your entire frame.

“Joel—”

But he claps a hand over your mouth, silencing any hope of your pleas being effective.

“Think I haven’t seen you? Your lil’ looks…” a low laugh, “n’ those fuckin’ clothes?” God, the rumble, the sheer want in his voice hammers at your initial resistance, and you feel yourself welcoming the feel of his thick, long fingers, sliding between your wet folds. You’re clay, melting against the curved, firm wall of his chest.

You mewl pathetically into his palm.

Another low laugh wracks his lungs, dances at the top of your ear.

“Knew you’d be this wet for me.”

“Knew since you got down on your knees,” Joel continues, uncovering your mouth only to ease a few fingers between your lips — lips that part as though commanded, and a mouth that welcomes and caresses whatever it receives, “‘N opened this pretty lil’ mouth for me to fuck it. Can’t close my eyes without seein’ you like that — so fuckin’ needy.” He exhales from between his teeth, signalling his approval while you suck him down to the knuckles.

His fingers tease your clit and you give him your thanks by pleasuring those of his other hand.

When his hands move, it’s to hold you steady and balanced as he drags your underwear down your legs. That thick, heavy cloud of arousal hides any and all rational thoughts from view.

And he knows. He knows you’re past the point of no return, restraining you only out of his desire to rather than out of a real need to. He knows from the whine you breathe at the loss of his hand against your clit, moving to work at his belt buckle instead.

“Gonna use a condom?” You breathe, emboldened by your clearing senses at the temporary lack of stimulation.

At first, you think he’s missed your taunt.

He backs up, pulling your hips along with him until the tips of your fingers are no longer touching the decaying wall before you. Joel pulls you upright and against him with an arm around your waist and a hand around your throat, turning your head and tilting it back to meet your eyes.

You grasp onto his forearms, failing to stand, unable to breathe. His hardness digs into your back, and his cruel eyes show you just how much pleasure he takes in your struggle.

“Don’t like to waste ‘em,” he finally answers, rocking his cock against your spine, “But I will if you beg. You gonna beg?”

He manipulates your answer, fingers moving to your red-hot core — he barely grazes the nerves, only dancing over the needy flesh. You can’t tear your eyes from him either, tethered to your body through his gaze.

Joel Miller was a frustrating lover.

“N-no,” is your answer, slightly strangled and softly stuttered.

He smiles. “S’what I thought.” Then, “Show me what you can do, angel,” he coos, lips just inches away from yours, his hold on your body relaxing —

“Use your pretty lil’ hands n’ put my cock where you want it most.”

And you both know exactly where that is.

After a nod, Joel allows you to bend forward slowly — it’s like moving through honey. Your legs burn with effort as you reach between your legs to wrap a hand around his thick, hard length.

Christ, he’s huge.

He groans when you touch him and uses his own hand to help guide his tip between your folds. One hand holds your waist, fingers extended under your ribs to support your weight in a skilled show of experience.

With his tip at your aching entrance, you try to lean back, to slide yourself slowly down his many inches.

But Joel doesn’t allow it.

He pushes into you in one go, clicking his tongue at your strangled gasp —

The man hadn’t even bothered to open you up with his fingers.

“Ah, c’mon,” he condescends, “You can take it.”

Then he’s setting a hard pace, hands moving from your hips to your ribs to your biceps to your hair to your neck — anywhere he wanted to go, he went. One eventually comes to the front of your throat, tilting your eyes back and up towards the ceiling. Every one of his thrusts arches your back further until you’re contorting into a half-moon shape, standing only by the grace of his support.

And it feels so good. Joel fills you up to the brim, takes you to heaven and floods your ears with hymns, punishes you in the kind of way you’d only experienced in dreams.

Words tumble out, but they’re filled with nothingness. “Joel,” “fuck,” and “yesohgodyes,” quickly become staples of your vocabulary.

He laughs whenever you sob, grows harder every time you moan, restrains you when you try to run away.

The hand around your throat tightens, digging unforgivably into the flesh as you start to let go, as your walls begin to clench and flutter appreciatively around his cock.

“M’I making you happy, sweetheart? My cock making you smile?” He asks gruffly, pulling you back into his chest. Joel readjusts you into whatever shape you need to be in at the new angle, hips still slamming into your ass. Struggling to stand on your tiptoes, he steadies you with his arms and his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look up into his rugged face.

“Mmhm,” is all you can offer him, the pitch jumping up halfway through when the head of his cock grazes that perfect spot inside your cunt.

He doesn’t let up.

“Show me, baby—” he commands, out of breath, too, but not nearly as tortured as you, “—Show me your smile.”

You do your best, smiling up at him, degrading yourself even more at the hands of Joel-fucking-Miller. And he eats it up, loves the way your grin turns into a bitten lip and knit eyebrows over closed eyes, slowing his thrusts to rock even deeper inside you.

You moan something unintelligible, and a laugh rustles through your tangled hair.

“Am I makin’ you come?”

You nod, feeling that familiar rush of pressure blooming somewhere within that throbbing bundle of nerves under his spell.

He smirks in pride and victory, the last look you get before your head falls against his shoulder, your muscles going lax as the peak builds, as your half-sobs grow louder.

“S’it, baby, tell ‘em,” he coos, nipping and sucking the skin on the side of your throat. “Gonna tell the whole street how you take it like a good lil’ slut.”

His fingers fall to your clit, enticing you right over the edge. You vision blurs and your legs shake, but Joel talks you through your orgasm, sweet nothings starting with, “S’right — show me — yes, fuck — good girl…”

And then —

He stops.

You whine, stars dancing before your eyes as the mean, mean man inside you refuses to fuck you through your climax.

“Joel,” you plead, grinding back against him in a pathetic show of need, “Come with me.”

He does the opposite, sliding himself out of your sore opening. You turn to face him, restoring your balance with hands against his chest, gazing up at him in desire-stricken reproach.

“Use your mouth,” he says, voice gruff at your ruined sight and from his own hand on his cock, keeping his arousal level, “Not gettin’ any more help from me.”

It’s unclear whether ‘help’ means pills or his cock, but you assume both to be safe.

You try to argue (having spent the last few weeks dreaming of Joel dripping down your legs) but he just won’t budge.

Then, his voice softens.

“You know your dad’d kill me, angel.”

And it’s really the sweetness of his tone that does it.

Sinking to your knees, it’s déjà vu when you open wide for him, steadying your shaking knees with both hands on his half clothed, half naked hips. Gravel and debris dig painfully into your bare knees, but you ignore the sting, smiling instead at the taste of yourself on Joel’s cock, lips sliding adoringly down the thick length of it.

He groans his approval, tangling his fingers in your hair to help guide your movements.

As you take him in again and again and again, pleasing every inch of him, he chokes out a laugh.

“Never seen you so quiet,” he muses (mostly to himself), caressing your cheekbone with his free hand —

“Gagged by an old man’s cock.”

You pull off, pumping him with both hands, asking breathlessly, “Are you all so big?”

He smiles, eyes darkening at the dirty compliment. “Give you a few numbers n’ you can tell me.”

God, he’s beautiful from down here.

You hold his attention and lick a slow stripe down the underside of his cock, half-grinning up at his lust-filled expression.

“I only want yours, Joel Miller.”

An uneasy inhale as you take him back in, his brows furrowing and his cock growing impossibly harder. Your words please him, he returns by groaning orders and praises like: “S’all yours, baby — take it all — take aaall that dick — good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s so close and you know it, moaning in submission at his hand’s pressure against the back of your head. With your nose crunched into his abdomen, you hold your throat open for him to use it however he pleases — reduced to nothing more than the man’s plaything.

There’s a low “ah, fuck,” from above, and then you finally know what Joel Miller tastes like.

It’s better than the Plan B.

You hear nothing beyond his recovering breaths, feel nothing past pride, lust, and exhaustion.

Eventually, he loosens his grip. You pull off of him delicately, drawing a groan from between his gritted teeth when you make sure to suck every last drop of his seed into your mouth.

Sitting back on your ankles, you roll your head up to face him.

He swipes a thumb under your lips, clearing the saliva connecting you to his softening cock.

“Still mad at me?” He asks.

You’d be crazy to say yes.

“Only for pulling out.”

You note the twitch at the corner of his mustache.

Joel helps you back on your feet, using one hand to pull you up by your arm and another to arrange himself back to decency.

You adjust your shirt; Joel fixes your skirt. It’s a strange kind of silence settling inside this pocket at the side of a random, ruined building.

Then, your company clears his throat, that mask of seriousness falling over his expression once again.

“You gonna be smart?”

What ever could he mean?

Stay away from him? Stay away from men? Practice abstinence? Use protection?

Either way, you’re not one to make promises you know you can’t keep.

You cross your arms.

“No.”

He sighs.

Well, looks like things are already back to normal.

His face softens and he shakes his head, already regretting his next words. “Just — just come find me, then. I won’t do… this again, but — but I’ll help.”

You frown.

“What do you mean, ‘this’?”

He stares down into your accusatory eyes with a look you’d received many times from him, one screaming, “get real.”

“Fine,” you mutter, breaking eye-contact, “Thank you.”

With a stoic nod, he walks around you, heading back into the night. You try, in vain, to watch him go in silence — god knows you had some thinking to get to — and find that, instead of getting it out of your system, the entanglement had only left you wanting for more.

And more and more.

“Is this what you meant?” and you hear his footsteps halt, “When you told me you’d do worse than kill me? When I tried to hit you?”

It comes out before you can help it, and you twist around to face his still, broad shoulders.

You can hear the smile teasing his lips as he utters the words.

“Why are you askin’ me that?”

Still facing his back, you break into a smile of your own. “So I’ll know what I have to do to get you to do it again.”

You watch him shake his head, grey-streaked ripples in the low light.

“Try your best not to find out, angel.”

With that, he disappears into the darkness, leaving you in the flickering doorway. Thighs aching, heart racing, you take a deep breath, trying to memorize the feeling of what it felt to have them taken from you by Joel Miller.

A feeling you’d chase.

—

Put your red boots on

Baby, giddy up

Baby wants a dance

Baby gets her way

Dreamy nights

Talk to me with that whiskey breath

Twirl me twice

I'll treat you like a holiday

And don't say you're over me

When we both know that you ain't

Don't say you're over me

Baby, it's already too late

Just do what you do best with me

Dance me all around the room

Spin me like a ballerina, super high

Dance me all around the moon

Light me up like the 4th of July

Once, twice, three times

The guy I ever thought I would meet, so

Don't say you're over me

When we both know that you lie

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

When you lie down right next to me

Get your jacket on

Be a gentleman

Get into your truck

And pick me up at eight

'Cause we were built for

The long haul freight train

Burnt by fire

Without trial like a stowaway

And don't say you're over me

When they all know that you ain't

If you lay down right next to me

Dance me all around the room

Spin me like ballerina super high

Dance me all around the moon

Like six times 'til I'm sick and I cry

Once, twice, three times

The guy I ever thought I would meet, so

Don't say you're over me

When they all know that you're lying

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, you lie

If you lie down right next to me

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, you lie

When you lie down right next to me

—

TAGLIST (cont’d in reblogs): @millllenniawrites @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @killerrxger @niallsbunny @snowyarcher @grnherbs @mswarriorbabe80 @tercabed @sweettea-and-honeybutter @bbyanarchist @thisgirl-knm @pedrit0-pascalit0 @redhotkitchen @isitselfishifwetalkaboutmeagain @pseudonymist @goldengrapejuice @soullumii @kamcrazy123 @wclverine

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specialagentartemis · 4 months

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tell me more about classic filk i know a few songs but never got deep into it

Heck YEAH

"Filk" is music (often but not always folk music-style, often but not always song parodies to the tune of famous pre-existing songs) about sci-fi, fantasy, and other fannish topics. Filk circles are popular events at science fiction conventions, and that's really where the genre started. The word "filk" actually arose from a typo in a convention program once, and people just rolled with it ever since!

Some of the most iconic albums in the filk world are the anthology albums "Minus Ten And Counting" (songs about space exploration and the real-life space program), "Carmen Miranda's Ghost" (songs about sci-fi space shenanigans and space ghosts), and "Finity's End: Songs of the Station Trade" (songs set in the world of CJ Cherryh's Alliance-Union novels, and my personal favorite. I've never read any of CJ Cherryh's books, but these songs paint such a vivid world.) "Space Heroes and Other Fools" is another big one, it's more hit-or-miss for me but it's iconic. Other really good and foundational ones are "Divine Intervention" by Julia Ecklar, "Avalon is Risen" by Leslie Fish, and "We Are Who We Are" by Vixy & Tony.

I lean more towards sci-fi and space than fantasy, but fantasy and paganism are huuuugely popular filk topics too.

Some of the most popular names to look into include Leslie Fish (intensely prolific, barely a fraction of her work is on any streaming or music service), Julia Ecklar (famous for her "ose," the filk-world word for sad songs - because they're "ose, more-ose, and even more-ose), Juanita Coulson, Kristoph Klover, Vic Tyler (who just recently died :( rest in peace), Duane Elms, Kathy Mar, Bob Kanefsky, Alexander James (trans, with lots of filk under his previous name as well), Vixy & Tony, and Seanan McGuire. (I like Seanan McGuire's filk music better than her books, hah.) Some other great ones include Cat Faber (most acapella), Astrisoni, The PDX Broadsides, Kari Maaren, and Sassafrass (also mostly acapella. Includes Ada Palmer). Heather Dale, Tom Lehrer, and Jonathan Coulton are kind of honorary filkers too haha.

The best place to get the ones from 80s and 90s cassettes are on the Internet Archive or Youtube; a few filkers who are more currently active have their stuff on Bandcamp.

And I'll leave you with a few of my Favorite Ever filk songs:

"Sam Jones" by CJ Cherryh and Leslie Fish

"Pushin' the Speed of Light" by Julia Ecklar and Anne Prather

"Chickasaw Mountain" by Leslie Fish

"Fire in the Sky" by Jordan Kare

"The Phoenix" by Julia Ecklar

"Freedom of the Snow" by Leslie Fish

"Burn it Down" by Vixy & Tony

"Hope Eyrie" by Leslie Fish, or this Minus Ten And Counting version

"Rocket Rider's Prayer" by Kristoph Klover, Ernie Mansfield, and Cecilia Eng

"Dawson's Christian" by Duane Elms, performed by Vic Tyler or Vixy & Tony

"Somebody Will" by Sassafrass

"Chances & Choices & Fortunes & Fates" by Astrisoni

... my tastes lean sentimental and ose but I swear there's a lot of very funny filk out there too

"Never Set the Cat on Fire" by Frank Hayes (a famous one)

"Banned From Argo" by Leslie Fish (an INFAMOUS one)

"Don't Push That Button" by Duane Elms and Larry Warner

"No More SF Cons" by Juanita Coulson

"One More Ose Song" by B. J. Willinger

everything Bob Kanefsky writes

#asks #book--wyrm #filk #music

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vacayisland · 5 months

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HIII i saw that you were taking request so im just asking if you could make a John dory x reader insert fanfic?

John dory meeting his spouce on the mission with Branch and Poppy when they find Bruce and hits it off with them while their is working at Bruces little diner?

@!; It's always a "vacay" with you. John Dory (JD) / Reader

"Summary"! John Dory didn't expect meeting the love of his life on a mission to save his brother; yet here he was, finding himself oh so fascinated with you that Spruce, Branch, and Poppy are having to physically pull him away from Vacay Island! "Tags"! Fluff! A lil awkward. Also, not proof read. I need to research JD a little more before writing another fanfiction about him, yet I tried my best with his personality!

@!; The last thing that John Dory expected from this mission was to find someone who completed him wholly, fully, and completely. The last thing he expected, when arriving to Vacay Island was to fall in love, head over heels for another Troll. The last thing he expected to come from this mission was to find someone who finally understood; understood him and his ways and how he is. Who made him want to be better while helping make him better; and in turn he helps them be a better version of themself. And it felt like some sort of weird destiny. They were only going to the island to find Spruce; a mission with one end goal, one way to go. Yet, when following Spruce (now Bruce) into his co-owned resort, singing had caught his attention right away...

Branch and Poppy kept following after Spruce, who hadn't turned around yet and kept trying to wave the two off while claiming his band days were over and to keep it all hushed-hushed. Though JD had stopped half way through the walk, hearing a tune flutter through the speakers of the indoor seating area. His interest had been captured, it was held captive with ever flutter of the sweet notes that wafted through the air. Though he slowly started to back up to follow his younger brother to get Spruce, he kept his eye out for the person who held such a lovely voice. "This is my wife, Brandy!" JD had swung himself on top of the bar top just as Bruce was introducing his wife. He was about to wave them off, though took a quick double turn when he actually saw who Bruce's wide was. Then grew even more confused when Bruce was bombarded with 10... 11... maybe 12 kids?! "How do you?-" JD pointed towards Brandy and Bruce, managing to interject between all the kids and chaos; Asking the one question that him, Poppy, and Branch were thinking - maybe less Poppy, and more him and Branch. Yet still, how would such a relationship even work? Nevertheless work so well where they had so many children- wait no, JD scrunched his nose as the thoughts that came to mind. He subtly leaned away from the two, glancing between Branch and Poppy and Bruce and Brandy. He turned them out for a moment, glancing back at the open sitting area as everyone chatted and spoke, laughed and cackled, just having a good time. And that's when he saw a flash of color, different from the other warmer-tones. JD didn't notice the way his breath caught in his throat the moment you swung by, landing on the counter top with a skidded stop. Despite wearing roller blades, the wheels didn't bother you. "Brandy! You got the food for Skid and Mary?" "Oh hey! Guys, that's (Y/N), a worker of mine." Bruce cut in as Brandy nodded, ringing a bell before a basket of fries and burgers were pushed out from the kitchen. She would take them, slide them across the counter to you, and you would, as though these plates weren't triple your size, hooked your hair around the holes of the basket. "Thanks, gotta run! Oh- hey Bruce." A wave, bright smile, and you were off; having stopped in for a brief moment but completely capturing JD's attention once again. He couldn't help but watch as you skated off, dragging the plates behind you while dodging whoever and whatever came your way. "So they was singing." JD blurted, not exactly meaning to. Though he captured his brothers and Poppy's attention. Bruce simply crossed his arms, "Oh, (Y/N)? Yeah! They always sing while they work, sometimes they even take a break to entertain everyone with a musical number." Though JD didn't catch it, Branch give him a skeptical look; being quicker to catch onto the way JD looked on you and the slightly softer tone he had.

@!; JD wasn't sure what attracted him to you yet, but he found himself looking for you every second of their stay trying to convenience Bruce to come help save Floyd. Even during the 'Brozone's back' performance, he looked for your face in the crowd; trying to see if he could catch a glimpse of you and your rolling skating antics. When they were done, while Poppy and Bruce's family were cheering them on, his eyes were stuck on the crowd. His nose scrunched as he tried to keep old thoughts out of his head, wondering why you weren't here praising him for his singing or anything like that. No, he cannot think like that. He's growing, he's outgrown that mindset- "Earth to JD!" JD snapped out of his thoughts at Poppy frantically waving her hand in front of his face. A hard blink and he turned over to the staring company. Brandy had a knowing look, in which JD squinted at trying to decipher. Poppy playfully punched JD's arm, "Oh, good to have you back!" A big grin paired her child like antics, in which JD only laughed and brushed off. "What are you talking about, I've been here since the beginning. After all, I'm the one who found Floyd's lett-" Yet he wasn't able to finish before Branch cut in. "Yeah, half here. Ever since we stepped foot here you've been," And Branch waited no time drawing a circle at the side of his temple, pairing it with a whistle; effectively calling JD insane, or mainly out of it. Poppy playfully slapped Branch's arm away from his head, saying something about how that was rude to do. Branch smiled a little, but tried to keep a straight face, as he gestured over to JD with a 'come on' type of look. Poppy glanced over to JD for a moment then back at Branch, a silent agreement that she would try to make unobvious. Bruce simply chuckled at their antics. "What? What's funny?" JD pointed at Bruce, narrowing his eyes a little as his more laid-back brother. "Oh nothing.." And there was a hint in Bruce's voice that made it sound like there was more. Yet he didn't say anything, arms crossed, as he gave JD a knowing look. An oddly, really knowing look. It threw JD off. He wasn't that readable anymore, he wasn't how he was when the band was together and his brothers shouldn't know how he is! He didn't like that look. So he glanced away from Bruce. Yet there was a feeling in his gut that JD knew that Bruce had some sort of hint of what was distracting him.

@!; The mission had been delayed a day. Bruce needed to stay back for a day longer to help Brandy with the kids and figure out all the logistics of leaving so suddenly. JD had gone off on his own, letting Branch and Poppy do their own thing, as he went to go walk on the beach. There wasn't much else to do than to walk on the beach and take in the scene. He didn't exactly want to get into the water, despite how impressing it might be to you- And there his mind goes again! JD cursed himself and cursed his thoughts and cursed you!- Then he paused, with a scrunch of his nose. He couldn't curse you no matter how much he was irritated you infiltrated his thoughts. He hasn't even spoken to you! How would he know you would even like him? That he would even like you! "A little help!!" JD's attention snapped behind him as he heard the shout from an all too familiar voice. Yet he didn't have time to react, seeing a troll barreling towards him with their arms extended and a panic-stricken look. JD jumped out of the way, landing in the sand and purposefully with more force than needed to dig himself in. You whizzed by him and he quickly shot his hair our towards you, wrapping it around your waist and trying to hold onto the friction from the sand to slow you down. Yet, maybe he should have dug himself in deeper. He knew this as soon as his left foot lost footing and he shot forward, dragging across the sand and towards you. He tried grabbing onto something, yet you both only crashed into each other; And while that helped to stop you, it also caused you both to barrel and roll into the shore of the ocean, effectively drenching you both in salty water. JD groaned, laying in the mushy sand floor, feeling the waves crash up against him and recede slowly back once they came. He felt groggy, a little disorientated, yet he didn't have much time to reflect on that feeling when someone began to shake him. "Oh my god! Please don't be dead- please!" And with a few slaps to his cheek, JD shoved a hand into the face of whoever was trying to bother him at this moment. There was a silence for a moment, maybe out of shock, before JD heard the person beside him let out a deep sigh. It was a sigh like the weight of the world had been lifted off the person's shoulders, releasing them some sort of trouble or entanglement with liability. JD opened one eye when the ocean drew back again, keeping his eyes half-lidded, as he tried to see who was with him in the ocean. He swore he nearly died the minute that he saw you, soaking head to toe and looking down at him with the most worrisome look. He jolted up to a sit, not realizing his hand was still cupping your mouth until a moment later; When he drew it back, glancing down at it and back up at you, then cautiously placing it beside him. "Are you okay?" And despite how awkward this situation could be, you didn't make it that way. And JD slightly hoped it was because you saw the look on his face; The silent apology he couldn't bare himself to say. He's been working on himself, but he's not that level of worked on yet. Especially since he knew he owed a few people some big apologies.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." JD mumbled after a minute. He took in a deep breath before placing his hands on his knees and standing up, letting out the breath in a long sigh as he did so. "Oh- um! That's good." Your smile was anxious, a little weary, as you still sat in the mushy sand in the fire range of the waves. JD offered you his hand. You took it, allowing him to help you onto your feet. And that awkward silence along with a prolonged holding of hands. JD wasn't sure why, but he noticed the way your hand fit perfectly into his like all your hands were made to do was hold each other. He kind of didn't want to let go, but did so for the sake of comfortability. It would be awkward to hold hands with a strange, right? And no matter how many fangirls they had felt with in Brozone, JD would never know that answer. He guessed yes, by the way your eyes shifted to the left in an uncomfortable fashion. Yet he saw the way your eyes flicked back to his the moment he let go. He noticed the way your hand dropped to your side limp-like, and the small smile that crept to your face. There was some sort of glint in your eyes that drew JD in again. Though he couldn't exactly tell what that sparkle was for; he just hoped you were going the same way his brain was. "Hey," A pause, you were chewing over your words. "Would you like to talk over a basket of nachos?" "Were you reading my mind?" JD cocked up his eyebrow, giving you a snicker as he saw the cheeky look that rose on your face. "Maybe I am, you'll never know! But I have an employ discount I still have to use and this seems like the perfect occasion to take my break." And you grinned a grin that made JD feel like you were looking right through him; That you knew all his flaws and strengths all at once and yet still loved him for every single one of them. And maybe he was insane to think so. And maybe JD should get to know you better before he jumps to conclusions. But, shit, you had him hooked in a way no Troll has had him before.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#dreamworks trolls #brozone x reader #john dory trolls #trolls brozone #john dory headcanons #brozone #trolls fandom #trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #john dory #branch #queen poppy #trolls branch #floyd trolls #clay trolls

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francis-writes · 2 months

Text

FEYD-RAUTHA HARKONNEN NSFW ALPHABET

A/N: btw in these headcanons as well as my other posts about Dune i kinda mix movie and book versions of character

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Feyd-Rautha isn't the most affectionate person, even if you're together. He just falls asleep, hugged into you. He may help you clean yourself and take care of the wounds if it was particularly rough session.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It would be a hard decision but if he had to choose, Feyd would say that he most likes his hands. The way they use a knife, how they engulf your neck... he loves how many lives he took with his hand and you still kiss them and want them on your body.

When it comes to you, Feyd would probably choose all these spots that he uses to make you shiver and writhe. He knows you body well and remember where he needs to focus when he wants to give you pain or pleasure.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

In you, almost always. He sees it as a kind of marking his territory (there was that one fanfic where Harkonnens had black cum so basically everyone could notice stains and knew that they fucked and I absolutely love this headcanon), moreover he needs to secure his line and get an heir.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It takes a bit of time together for Feyd to accept this (and even longer to admit it) but he enjoys being soft with you. He still loves violence and rough sex but he also likes cuddling with you and being petted.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I suppose we all know the answer. Sex and violence are two things he mastered.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He can't choose just one. Missionary is good for keeping eye contact and observing your reactions. Anything where he takes you from behind, gives him feeling of control and domination. Also there are a lots of moment when you're restrained in all possible positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Feyd isn't a very humorous person in general and sex is no exception. Smile is the best you can get from him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I'll go here with his 2023 movie look and say that he's as bald and smooth down there, as everywhere else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Well, he's not the most romantic person. Even if he loves you, he doesn't know how to show it except for being more delicate and caring with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He rather doesn't do it. When he's horny, he can just find you or one of his concubines.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

You can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands but I think that he has a mommy kink. He didn't got much affection in his life, growing up in Harkonnen's family and in movie version he killed his mother sooo lots of issues here (in comics he was just kidnapped from parents as a small kid so not much better). Anyway, he wouldn't admit it but he loves when you hug him and stroke his head as he rests on your chest or belly. Praise him, tell him that you love him, you're proud of him and he will melt in your arms.

Also, of course, all kinds of BDSM. Feyd prefers to cause pain but he's sadomasochistic and lets you torture him as well. I won't list specific things he likes because it would be easier to list things he doesn't like.

And semi-public sex? He wants people to hear how he fucks you and to know that you're his and his only.

Perhaps breeding kink (but in Dune almost everybody has breeding kink; bene gesserit is as if somebody had breeding kink and decided to make this everyone's problem). As I mentioned, he sees this kinda as marking his territory and bounding you to him? And of course, he needs an heir (not that he actually likes children).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bedroom is the best. There's a big bed and all of his toys and tools... but Feyd isn't picky. If mood strikes him, he may fuck you on any surface.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Almost everything lol

But just to give a random example, he's always horny after fight, especially if he kills someone (same if you love violence as well and kill somebody).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hmm he's rather possesive so it may be hard to convince him to a threesome. But at the other hand, he's a hedonist so maybe he would like it.

It's hard to say what he wouldn't do because as I say later, this man is down to try almost everything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It's not his favourite sexual thing to do, but he never refuses a blowjob. He prefers receiving, giving you oral is a rare occasion. He can do this, just usually his pleasure has priority.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually fast and rough, Feyd only goes slow when he wants to tease you or to torture you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Feyd prefers longer sessions when he can focus on the act and perhaps torture you a little but quickies are not far away in the ranking. As I mentioned, he has a very high libido, so it often happens during the day that he's busy and don't have much time so he just pulls you to the nearest room. And if some servant walks in (very unlikely, considering all the noises alarming people what's happening behind the doors)? Then that's their problem. Feyd doesn't stop thrusting into you, as they leave the room in hurry.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Feyd is that type of man who will try anything in his life at least once, so take care of yourself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

In general, he has amazing stamina (years of training paid off) but it depends on situation, like, whether you have a standard fast fucking just to satisfy your lust, or you have a whole session with long foreplay. Amount of rounds varies but he can go for a few hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Feyd has a whole collection, whatever he could get. Dildos, clamps, spreader bars, ropes, whips, knives, needles, wax candles, dick rings, chastity belts, butt plugs and a few things that look like torture devices. Anyway, both of you use it rather frequently.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease you. With his voice, his words, even his gestures seem sexual. He also likes to touch (or rather grope) you through the day. Fortunately, he has a high libido so it won't take long before he pulls you to the nearest free room.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He isn't very loud, if he moans or gasps, he does it rather quietly. But he likes every once in awhile talk to you and tease you. Maybe it's nothing special but even "How does it feel, my pet? Don't be shy, look me in the eyes" said in his low voice can make you shiver.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He is actually a switch. Top leaning but occasionally enjoys when you take control. And, no matter who's in charge, he's still a sadomasochist so even when he's dominating, he wants you to give him pain.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Perfectly average but he knows how to use it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Probably you all expected this, but yeah. Very high. There's no day without sex and not just one round.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rather quickly. He has a good stamina but sex takes a lot of his energy, especially considering how long you do it and how much he engages in it.

#feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune imagine #dune part two #house harkonnen

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livlaughloveluke · 5 months

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫- 𝐣.𝐜

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you meet jack’s family for the first time at thanksgiving dinner

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: i COMPLETELY made up the members of his family, mentions of thanksgiving although if you don’t celebrate its only briefly mentioned so you can just imagine its a regular dinner ☺️

𝐚/𝐧: happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate! j will most likely not be posting until this sunday, although it might vary

you finished your light makeup by applying a swipe of lipgloss. your auburn dress was the perfect length, being both cute and appropriate for the occasion. you were going to have thanksgiving dinner with all of jacks family.

there was one issue. in your six months of dating, you had never met anyone related to him. you would have liked to meet his mom earlier, but got as a rising actress, you got caught up in work and were constantly traveling to different states for events. however, from what jack described, she seemed precious.

but what if she didn’t like you? what if something goes wrong and you embarrass yourself in front of everyone? oh god, this dinner was really messing with your head.

“you almost ready, babe?” jack exclaims from the other room. you slip on your shoes and exit your bedroom, entering the living room where jack was. he was wearing a sweater that matched the color of your dress, and a pair of jeans.

jack stands up, and kisses your forehead. “you look good, y/n. my family will love you.” jack said, making you blush. his charm never failed to make you smile.

you hop in jacks car, leaving your hotel room. you bounce your leg up and down, nerves taking over you. jack places his hand on your thigh, the coldness of it sending shivers down your spine.

“seriously y/n, don’t stress. if it makes you feel better, you are a lot better than my last girlfriend.” he said to you.

he was right, his last relationship had been a little rocky, and the girl he was dating wasn’t exactly the nicest person out there. it pained you to know that someone could be so mean, especially to jack.

jack was the sweetest boy, who treated you with the respect that you lacked from other guys. he stood with you at your lowest points in life, and helped you grow as a person. you flourished during your relationship with him, becoming the best version of yourself.

and you helped jack, too. when he was alone and heartbroken, you swooped in and provided the love he so desperately deserved. when he fell down, you were always there to help him get back up. he was happier and better person with you around.

the car came to halt, as you pulled into the driveway of a small cozy home. a few other cars were already there, and you presumed that it was his family.

from what you heard, his aunt and uncle would be there, along with his older brother and his brothers wife. his grandma and grandpa would unfortunately not be attending, for they had caught a mild cold the day before. his sister-in-law had two daughters, one newborn and one six year old. you were great with kids, so they wouldn’t be an issue. you had spent your teenage years as a summer camp counselor.

you took a deep breath, and stepped outside of the car. jack interlocked your hands, and you both walk up to the door. he didn’t have to knock, and just walked in. everyone looked to see who it was, and when they did, a roar of greeting came from the crowd. jack hadn’t visited his hometown in a while, so there enthusiastic reactions weren’t unexpected.

the family then turned their attention to you, and you greeted them with a smile on your face. they smiled back, and started welcoming you.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n!” jack introduces you, and you start shaking everyones hands. you then got everyones, except the kids, names. jacks sister-in-law was named jessica, his aunt was shannon, his uncle brian, and his older brother was named joey.

then, jacks mom, anna, invites you, jessica, and shannon come help set up. jack heads off to the living room with the boys, and the rest follow anna to the kitchen.

“so, how long have you and jack been dating?” his mom asks, and you immediately reply with a joyful tone.

“around six months. i wish i could have met you sooner, but i’ve been nonstop traveling for work. also might i add, you did an excellent job raising him. he’s the sweetest and most caring boy i know.”

“you’re to kind! now tell me about yourself!” anna replies, and you start informing the group of your origin. you share silly stories about jack, and laugh uncontrollably together while finishing dinner.

you hear the shy voice of a young girl coming from the doorway, and look over to see jessica’s oldest daughter walking in. she walks over to her mommy, and tugs on her dress. the bashful kid whispers something into her mothers ear, and they both look at you. you start to feel slightly embarrassed, worried as to what they were talking about.

“oh, thats uncle jacks girlfriend, y/n! why don’t you go say hi. i’m sure she doesn’t bite.” jessica says out loud, and your cloud of worries clear up.

she walks up to you, and you squat down to her height. you can tell she’s a little nervous, and you try your best to seem welcoming.

“hi! i like your dress. its very pretty.” the young girl whispers out.

“thank you! i love your hair! it looks super cute.” you respond back, and she giggles and thanks you.

“do you wanna play barbies with me in the play room?” she asks, and you look back, making sure it’s okay that you stop helping with the food. everyone nods and encourages you to go with the small child, so you follow her to where her toys where.

you sit down, and she gives you a doll. you start playing with her, and the girl, evelyn, seems to be having a blast. you giggle and joke with her, glad you can get along with her.

“shhh you can’t tell uncle jack i said this, but he told dad that he really, really likes you. and he also said you’re the prettiest and funniest girl he’s ever met.” evelyn informs you, and you can’t help but blush. you continue chatting with her, now seeming to be a little more at ease.

anna calls the guys to the dining room, for dinner was almost ready. however, before she sends jessica to grab you and evelyn, she begins to say something to jack and the rest of the family.

“you know, i really like her. i think she’s the one.” everyone agrees with anna, and praises you for your generosity and amazing personality. jack loves hearing the groups words of approval, and he smiles, knowing you were definitely liked by his family.

the feast begins, and you chat with everyone in attempt to get to know them better. it was an excellent dinner. the food was amazing and the conversations were plentiful. time flew by, and before you knew it, you were saying your goodbyes.

as you drove back to the hotel, you and jack began talking. you couldn’t up but light up at his words.

“i think they really like you, y/n.”

taglist- @nowitsmissing, @nikoschrissis, @lvndryyhoe, @ieattoesforbreakfqst, @sevenheavxns, @wonderstruck4llthew4yhome, @imkillmyselfxoxo, @lumaxstans-blog, @ilovejackchampionnn, @hyeyulove, @jackchampiongf13, @sebastiansallowsgf, @michaelangdonsslut, @1212valee, @teenagedramaqueenlisa

some names wouldn’t let me tag :(

#ethan landry #jack champion #ethan landry angst #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x actress! reader #fanfic #masterlist #liv’s writing !

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markscherz · 9 months

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This might be a weird question but I can't think of a better person to ask! My nibling recently came out as non-binary and wants to change their name, but they're struggling to find something they are happy with.

They were given a feminine name at birth and are currently using a masculine name, but aren't happy with either of them. Every human name that's suggested to them is either too masc, too femme, or has poor associations. However, they love frogs, so I wondered if that might be a solution.

I've tried to find frog names that might work as a human name, but so far I'm not having much luck. It's not allowed to start with R or J, and apparently it's not allowed to have an X in it because nibling thinks they're "not cool enough" to carry that off (I've tried explaining that they're wrong, but 16 year olds are very sensitive).

If this isn't too weird a question, can you think of any frog or toad names that might be manageable as human names? We live in the UK for reference

So many thanks for even reading this giant info dump 💕

Wow this is only the second time I have gotten to help find a name for a human. What an honour.

Okay firstly, sounds 100% like your nibling is cool enough to use an X (despite my current negative emotions associated with the letter due to the Elongated Muskrat), and there are some *amazing* names out there with X's in, so they should at least consider them. Scinax and Ixalus for instance are great. Ixalus has a fun history: originally it was coined as a replacement name for Orchestes, which wasn't available because there was already a beetle genus called Orchestes. But then it turned out that Ixalus was *also* not available, because the world's most beautiful antelope, the bongo, was already called Ixalus. Only, the bongo had already been called Tragelaphus. So now Ixalus isn't the name used for *any* animal. Ixalus is Greek, meaning 'bounding, springing, spry'. Also there are numerous other frog genera that use the ending -ixalus, such as Heterixalus, Micrixalus, etc.

But, taking the lack of X seriously, here are some other alternatives. I will avoid names that are derived from other people's names, and focus on names that have a neutral ring to my ear, and are also euphonious (nice to say or hear) and fewer than four syllables. I am also only considering genus names, because there are too many species names to choose from:

Acris — meaning sharp, sour, bitter, pungent, sharp, keen, acute, energetic, eager, etc. Technically this is the feminine version of the adjective; the neuter version is Acre, but I do not think anyone would read 'Acris' and immediately think either gender. It is supposed to be pronounced with a long a, as in 'hard', but a lot of people pronounce it with a hard a as in 'ace'. This name is most familiar to Americans, because Acris are cricket frogs, widespread in the US.

[Acris crepitans, src]

Mantis — of course, the genus Mantis was coined by Linnaeus in 1758, and so it is unambiguous that this is not a frog name. However, it is very often used as part of frog taxonomic names, such as Chiromantis, Boehmantis, Guibemantis, Gephyromantis, Phlyctimantis etc. Mantis is Greek (μάντης), and means oracle, prophet, soothsayer, seer, clairvoyant, or fortune teller. The name has the feminine gender in its language of origin, but that has no bearing on its use, which, barring the character in the Marvel movies, does not seem particularly gendered to me.

[Pristimantis cruentus, src]

Dasypops — simply a delightful name, but probably not neutral enough. I have not been able to figure out what the etymology is; it might be a play on Dasypus, the Greek word meaning 'rough-footed', which is a genus of armadillos. The frog is also spectacular, but there are no photos I can legally share on tumblr.

Kaloula — a euphonic name with an unclear meaning. Very round frogs. I love them.

[Kaloula pulchra, src]

Adelotus — means 'unseen'. These are 'tusked frogs'. Males have crazy extensions of lower jaw bones, and they fight with them.

[Adelotus brevis, src]

Taruga — a Sanskrit name meaning 'tree climber'. I fucking love this name, and the frogs are just *chef's kiss* POINTY, and have really committed to bold colours.

[Taruga eques, src]

EDIT: I have been informed that taruga means ‘blockhead’ or ‘numb skull’ in Spanish, so it might not be the best choice. Sorry!

If the nibling would like to check out a list of genera themselves, there is a tolerably complete list here.

I hope this helps!

#frog #frogs #frogs and toads #names #animals #nonbinary #answers by Mark #annamelia-art #herpetology #I guess

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sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog · 9 months

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I just read the article you posted a while back about TB (heads up- it said the gift article link has lapsed or some such). Did J&J ‘evergreen’ (be allowed to be evil) or was it allowed to become generic?

Relatedly, how do you manage empathy fatigue? I deal with OCD too and it screams at me that I have to care about and do all the things all at once. How do you choose where to put your time and energy?

(Also, when I get the coffee subscription for my husband’s birthday, which version should I get?)

For me empathy fatigue sets in when I careen my attention from this crisis to that one to the next one to the one after that, always feeling overwhelmed by each emerging problem but never having the time or attention to devote myself to one problem or another.

I'll give you an example. In 2014, a horrific ebola epidemic swept through Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. The world paid attention to it. Everyone was talking about it. And then .... it ended. At least in the global imagination. Money dried up. The world moved on to the next crisis.

That's not to say the next crisis wasn't important. It was important. But in Sierra Leone, the ebola crisis wasn't really over even after people stopped contracting ebola. 15% of Sierra Leone's healthcare workers had been killed by ebola, and the already fragile healthcare system plummeted into what one Sierra Leonean physician described to me as "a state of collapse."

And so the crisis remained a crisis even after the world's attention shifted. 1 in 17 women in Sierra Leone were dying in childbirth. Over 10% of kids born died before the age of five. Tuberculosis killed thousands every year despite curative treatment being available.

And this is when Hank and I finally, belatedly realized that responding to crises in the news was not adequate. Instead, we would need to commit the kind of long-term attention and long-term support that long-term crises demand. This means making difficult choices--there is also high maternal and child mortality in countries other than Sierra Leone, but we choose to focus on Sierra Leone because we see an opportunity to make a difference, because the government is serious if limited in its commitment to improving healthcare and educational opportunities, and because we had to make a choice or else we would be overwhelmed by the many causes.

What about the other causes? Well, we trust people to work on those causes. We believe in their importance. And we support their work by doing ours as well as we can, and trusting they are doing theirs as well as they can. I still get overwhelmed. I still get depressed. But I find that the deeper I go into my particular areas of interest--global healthcare delivery, health care accessibility, ending TB, fighting maternal mortality--the better I feel personally, and the more good I feel like I'm able to do.

2. Johnson & Johnson has not abandoned their secondary patents on bedaquiline but they have committed to allow generics to be available in most countries, even those where the secondary patents apply. Unfortunately this deal leaves out many countries that need generic bedaquiline, including Ukraine, which is absolutely unacceptable. So progress has been made, but the progress (as is so often the case) is inadequate. The fight goes on.

#tuberculosis #global health #partners in health #empathy fatigue

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pink-amethyst-tarot · 6 months

Text

♡ A L I C E I N W O N D E R L A N D ♡

Pick A Pile Reading ♡

General, Love, and What to look forward to readings for each pile.

Take What resonates and leave the rest and know that you're the one in control of your life at the end of the day. . . .

This PAP reading is inspired by my mutual and friend, @itsmealicehi

Thank you so much for the idea and for sharing your energy with me.

♡ P I L E 1 ~ P I L E 2 ~ P I L E 3 ♡

♡ p i l e 1 ♡ - Slow Down, you crazy child/ I can do bad all by myself

General: Four of Pentacles, Knight of Swords (Reversed), The Hanged Man, The Moon

Bottom of the Deck: Four of Wands

You might be feeling like there is no control in your life, so you are controlling the things that you can with an iron grip. Because of this, you have been punishing yourself, holding back your own progress. You may be presenting to the world that you have it all under control but on the inside, you feel like your life is falling apart. Right now, you are too in your own head. It's time to reach out to the person or people that you trust. Asl for advice or a helping hand. Right now, it's too hard to tell the forest from the trees. This is not the time to make decisions without care or thought. The life that you want is not that far out of reach. Slow Down. Don't forget to celebrate yourself.

Channeled Song: Vienna by Billy Joel

Love: Queen of Wands, Six of Pentacles (Reversed), Five of Cups, Eight of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Ten of Pentacles

For those in a relationship: The relationship started out amazing and this person promised you everything you could have ever wanted. Now, it seems like you have to pull teeth just to get some attention. This person is giving you love kernels to keep you but never enough to satisfy you. You may feel like because you've put in all this time and effort, you should stick it out. When someone shows you who they are, it's in your best interest to believe them. This person may say they are going to change all the time. But have they put in any effort? Have they done a 180? Or are they doing enough to keep the peace and then going back to square one like a conversation was never had? If you stay, it will only lead to disappointment, dissatisfaction and resentment. I think this person is holding you back from being your best and happiest self. You don't need anyone's help when it comes to being miserable. You can do bad all by yourself.

For those who are single: This is a warning to watch out for people that want to use you and have an unbalanced union with you. It will only hold you back and leave you unhappy and unsatisfied.

Channeled song: I Can Do Bad All by Myself by Mary J. Blige (this song don't have a studio version and I'm still so upset about it! We need to call Tyler Perry and Mary J. Blige.)

What To Look Forward To: The Hermit, Seven of Swords, Two of Cups, Queen of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Six of Pentacles

You have been moving in silence, making plans and moving strategically. You are crafting new opportunities, not just for yourself, but for people in your life. You will be giving gifts once you have reached your desired level of success. I think you are going to meet someone that adds to your success as well. Though this is romantic for some of you, that isn't the case for everyone so take it how it resonates with you. It will be like you can read each other's mind. I definitely this person is a part of your soul family.

♡ p i l e 2 ♡ - It'll be all over in the morning

General: Six of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Two of Wands (Reversed), The Hierophant, Seven of Pentacles

Bottom of the Deck: Queen of Swords

The hardships that you have faced are over! Because you did not let them break you, it has made you better and stronger, despite all that you have been through. The tides are turning in your favor because you never gave up even when it seemed like things would never be any different. You kept your faith. You may feel hesitant to move forward because the unknown is scary and you've already faced so much adversity but, trust your intuition and reach out to your spirit guides. They love you and they are here for you. Know that you can move forward with protection, and you will be led to abundance and long-term successes.

Channeled Song: Ain't No Need To Worry by The Winans (I will say this is a gospel song, so if you think that will trigger you as someone with religous trauma, don't listen to it.)

ain't no need to worry bout // what the night is gonna bring // it'll be all over in the morning //

Love: Nine of Pentacles, Six of Cups, Judgement (Reversed), King of Pentacles, Six of Wands (Reversed)

It seems like you are happy being single but it looks like you are getting an offer from someone kind, maybe someone from your past. In my mind, I see someone that was a close childhood friend or maybe you went to school with and you knew or knew of each other. Don't be too harsh on this person. It's good to have high standard and knowing your worth, but no one is perfect. Even perfect fruit can have bruises. Even if this person is everything you ever wanted and dreamed of, they are still a person that is living life, just like you. Know that this person is great and great for you, flaws and all. You will feel cared for, loved, safe and so much more. There is a change you will let your ego get in the way. Don't let it. It will slow down the progress of your relationship or even ruin it all together. Know that letting your ego in the way means losing the love that you so deeply deserve. You are safe with this person. Let your guard down.

Channeled Song: Renegade by Big Time Machine ft Taylor Swift (This channeled song is a little different because it's from your person to you.)

are you really gonna talk about timing in times like these? // and let all your damage damage me? // and carry your baggage up my street? // and make me your future history? //

What to Look Forward To: Ace of Pentacles, Six of Wands (Reversed), Ten of Pentacles (Reversed), Queen of Wands, Temprance (Reversed), Justice

You have some exciting new opportunities coming up as well as some things from the past you have to finally acknowledge. This is going to shake up your world. I think you may want to do some self care at this time. Grounding yourself will be really important. Know that whatever this is, you can handle this. You have been through worse. You are strong and capable. You are going to feel unbalanced and like you need to rush to make a decision. Other people may be pushing you to make a decision. Don't worry about that or about them. Take your time and do what is best for you. You will get all that you deserve; all that you have worked for.

♡ p i l e 3 ♡ - You're built different

General: Temprance, Ten of Pentacles (Reversed), Queen of Wands, The Devil (Reversed), Justice

Bottom of the Deck: Two of Pentacles

You don't need to be what others want you to be. I see that, right now, you are at peace and balanced but you're being pressured, either by other people or by your own thoughts, to "get yourself together". The thing is though, YOU ALREADY HAVE IT ALL TOGETHER! You are doing things in an unconventional way and that freaks people out and makes them worried because they can't gage the likely outcome. That's not any of their business and you can't make how they feel about your life your problem. Stay on the path you are on if that is what will make you happy. Be confident in your choices. Act courageously even when you are terrified. The things that are meant for you will find you. The life you want may not be the status quo, but it's yours. Isn't the enough?

Love: King of Pentacles, Seven of Cups (Reversed), Five of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Five of Pentacles, Queen of Cups

Someone is coming in to offer you a long-term commitment. In the past, you have been offered similar offers, only to end up in tense relationships where you ended up estranged and distant. This new person is different, and I think you are going to be able to tell. This will be something so new and so different. This relationship will be nurturing for the both of you. This will be one for the books. This person that is coming in is your soulmate and you will be shocked by how much a person's life can change just by meeting someone.

What to Look Forward To: Five of Swords (Reversed), Ten of Pentacles, King of Swords, King of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, Two of Wands

You've been doing shadow work and making changes, healing your inner wounds. That hard work is contributing to your long-term success and will help you clearly see the path that you are meant to take. Self-discipline is important but you are being asked to watch out for signs of perfectionism. It's not about the destination but about the journey. Speaking of journey, the stability that you have cultivated, you are ready to put your ideas into motion by making plans at this time. You can achieve the goals you have desired to achieve for a long time.

You can get a person Alice in Wonderland reading from my Etsy shop, PinkAmethystTarot

Page divider credit to: @reveriesources

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. THESE READINGS ARE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. no guarantees are implied. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

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quartergremlin · 6 months

Text

The Legacy of Genius Built Industries: Exclusive Interview with Othello Von Ryan

transcript and process under the cut

Year after year, Genius Built Industries captures the world's attention as they roll out neigh-fantastical devices and systems dedicated to making all our lives a little bit better.

This time, instead of an industry-shaking tech development, the thing that has eyes turning towards GBI is a personal change: the first public appearance of real-life giant and part-time superhero Othello Von Ryan's children.

I've been invited back into Von Ryan's lab for and exclusive interview with their small family.

Von Ryan's personal lab is just as i remember it - perfectly organized and violently purple - but now it's a little more crowded.

For now, Von Ryan has put away the projects to give their attention to their equally purple children.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. - just as tall as Von Ryan themself - leans away from his insistent parent, armed with a spray bottle and a cloth and attempting to wipe down the screen that makes up the bottom half of his face. On Von Ryan's other side, P.S.D.D. kicks zir legs and laughs at zir brother.

This doesn't last long, as zir eye is next. When they're done, both teens are shiny and irritated.

And yes, Othello Von Ryan's children do - to the best of my knowledge - seem to be hyper-intelligent robots.

Johnson:

I know you hate beating around the bush, so I'm just going to say it: your kids are androids.

Othello Von Ryan:

Friendly laugh. It would seem so.

You must admit, it's a little surprising, especially considering your previous comments on artificial intelligence. That, and your history of forging your own path against the usual hype-based trends of the tech industry.

(S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and P.S.D.D. both seem to cringe at the comparison. Von Ryan quite literally turns their nose up.)

OVR:

Scoff! My children are nothing like what my competitors would call "artificial intelligence"! Their version is nothing more than an overhyped word scrambler with illusions of grandeur! A parrot residing within a thin-walled apartment complex could do a better job.

Additionally, I created Shelly and D.D. when I was in my teens. The "tech industry" is stuck chasing my tail, as always.

Really? That long ago? A.I. as we know it today was only just gaining popularity! Why not re-create a version for the consumer market?

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.:

We were accidents.

OVR:

(Very clearly embarrassed)

No, that doesn't sound like me.

I was a glorified roomba, Pops.

OVR:

You could do much more than a mere roomba!

P.S.D.D:

I was a bed!

#quarterdraws #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise sheeldon #rise psdd #magazine #mock up #i had so much heckin fun with this one #i was originally going to my the exclusive illustration #but then it was /too good/ you feel #so it became early access and i made another one

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gogolstoelicker · 4 months

Text

Dorm leaders with a Razor!MC

a/n: totally lost the pookie who asked for this but if by some miracle yk its you, pls dont beat me up for taking so long </3 /j

also if tumblr did smth weird with the bullet points again, point ur guns at the app

its one week before my exams so im using my adrealine for smth!!

You are generally good-natured person who considers your wolf pack your family and becomes enraged if they are hurt by other parties. You love your wolf family but dislike the fact that you aren't fully like them. You considered the few humans you do encounter to be your friends and are willing to protect them from danger if it means sacrificing your and your pack's dinner for the night. You are a quick thinker. You are also honest and forthright due to your limited exposure to human life. You are not used to speaking and only speak in short phrases and words, finding it troublesome, but you continue nonetheless.

Riddle

my mans stopping you like this to take a look at your uniform

pookie, youre a lil messy rn -he said this in anger, I'm just giving you the nicer version

its ok, he helped you clean up a lil after!!

u absolutely trying not to mess up the collar and tie up bcs its so uncomfortable:😢😔

it always goes back to the messy version as soon as hes out of sight or its half the day already

he wont find out (i lied he absolutely did)

he can always count on u to tell him the truth should your friends ever do smth bad

"broke. chair." while pointing at ace and deuece

they have tears in their eyes as riddle approach them

honestly some of ur behaviour makes him go⁉️

fr thought u were a beastman or smth

then found out youre just a human whos lived with wolves their whole life

FUCKEKEKE REMEMBER THAT TIME IN HIS OVERBLOT WHEN HE WAS TALKING ABT PARENTS

u being an orphan as he goes on with his speech: /JOKE

ace beats his ass up for u its ok

him trying to figure out how they didnt try to eat u🤔

he didnt try to stop u but that wont mean he wont go😅😅

ALSO eat ur veggies pls

hes chasing u around heartslabyul trying to make u eat a wee bit of carrots

Leona

"veggies:( bad:(" "so real"

^ur real time convo

whenever youre given food with veggies, u pass it off to leona

leona then pass it to ruggie who then muched it off

he absolutely told u to give ruggie any veggies btw (free food for the man‼️)

ruggie is forever happy to receive free food

he actually thought u were a beastman too because of your scent

"r u a jack kinnie?" he would ask (he didnt ask it like that)

turns out you just got raised by them

idk savanaclaw might be an ok? place for u? considering most of them r beastman there

like its not even surprising to see u practicing with them every morning anymore

ruggie dragged both u and leona by the collar to practice btw

"im all the way in ramshackle" leona surprise adopted u to savanaclaw, dont resist /J

u surprisingly get along well with him‼️‼️

leona acting like he doesnt care abt the youngsters👴🙄 (hes failing)

he totally didnt take a nap with you in his usual spots, no who did that?? pft not him

no he did NOT save u from accidentally getting hurt by your friend's troubles btw no

also, he did not mind that you do not talk much

the less words the better for him!! he encourages this (he got beat up later by the people who thinks otherwise)

Azul

youre so simple, azul actually had a great time

"pls sign this contract to save ur friends" "ok:)"

well youre homeless now (not rlly u have a home in savanaclaw)

yk those super villains laughing evilly everytime their plans r going so well?? thats azul

he didnt even need to put many efforts in trying to trick u, u just go thumbs up at him

he does not feel bad btw

he does not care if youre a beastman or not. a business opportunity is all you'll ever be to him

maybe a friend too but you'll need to unlock friendship level 10 for that

can wolves swim underwater, im sayign yes for plot reasons

anyways u came back from trying to get the painting(?) picture (?) like a wet dog

im saying nonsense rn i think i need sleep its almost 1am

he threw his head back 90° to laugh dramatically at how u reminded him of a wet dog

this is a joke, do not come for me

honestly he had to drag u away from the lounge once bcs u tried catching the fishes in the aquarium

"MF LEAVE MY FISHES TF ALONE IF U WANT TO LIVE" is what he wouldve said if hes not a professional businessman

he is a professional guys do not worry💯

honestly, he is pretty ? that you had trouble speaking

after finding out its bcs youve been isolated from the human things, he kind of goes🤔

the business in his head is controlling him before he can stop them😖🫣

would u like a potion from him to help u with that problem<33

honestly head empty rn

Kalim

rhey all thought you were a beastman and he is not an exception

is def surprised bcs ur ass howled one time at a full moon

he witnessed that, he had the front row seat as witness

he lets u do ur thing its ok

even asked u if its family tradition HELP /J

"oh man u have such fluffy hair"

he said before trying to touch it and realising its literally tangled all over

him and jamil whos right next to him

were u raised in a barn??

kalim assumed theres no hairbrush in ramshackle

u dont have to worry bro, kalim is more than happy to stock u up with some hairbrush

"oh its nothing much dont worry😊🙏‼️" the literal gold handles on the hairbrush:

u dont have to worry abt not speaking much, he speaks enough for the both of u

he spoke such strange things u dont understand him sometimes

u just nod along and gave him thumbs up

its like sun and moon but the moon is confused /j

if youre sleeping outside, he will join u btw

he brought his pillows and blanket out to have a small sleepover with u

jamil had a mini heart attack when he went to wake kalim up in the morning to see hes missing from his bed

Vil

vil when be sees u

yk how yall lived in pomefiore for a bit after the idia thing??

yeah he polished u up so much bro

u came into the dorm looking like someone abandoned u so youe only option was to live in the jungle with the help of ur jungle friends and have survived through the way of the mammals since u were an infant

and u came out looking like a brand new person

u came out of the dorm looking like u got new skin that its literally shining under light, ur hair softer and no longer tangled and no more eyebags and u smell like flowers

vil wiping his forehead after a job well done😊🙏

also he was pretty shocked when he found out u were pretty isolated from the human norms or whatever

he did try his best to break you bad habits, like literally running in mud

he also helped u with like speaking problems?

he got u a whole dictionary in case u dont know the word bro

also fix ur uniform for ueach time u try to loosen it up because its too suffocating for u

if u try to loosen it up one more time, he'll add the veggies in ur plate

he absolutely does makes u eat ur veggies

he'll tie u down a chair and make u eat them even

/j he wouldnt. he have rook to help him with that

Idia

him after he fixed ur dorm with the greatest and newest updated quality just for u to sleep outside

he gets it, youve been raised this way

but he just fixed it for u bro😢😢cant u at least sleep in there

grim sleeps in diff rooms every day bcs of the upgrade and u did this?? /j

oh well at least the outside kind of looks better now too he guess....

u dont even use the tv, u dont know how it works

"people in there real?" "? no ?"

he beats u in every video games ever because u literally could not keep up with technology

hes slaying everyone and youre wondering how to make ur character walk the way u wanted them to

u accidentally drowned somehow in the video game

he feels a tad bit bad for u

he cant bond much with u because like

hes quiet, youre quiet

hes a modern dude, u dont even know whats a phone

he likes video games, u prolly like hunting for food

if you two r in a room together, the only people who r talking r literally the wind

"whoosh whoosh whoosh🌬" whoosh whoosh🌪

Malleus

he spoke enough for the both of u (its abt gargoyles)

he actually spoke so much confusing words for u

u looked at him like 😃🫨 (ur head is spinning and u r dying)

u can always ask him if u dont understand tho

he will explain in another paragraph but its ok, at least u understand now

barely actually

ur brain hurts and its fried from talking to him since he use big words

he did try to use simpler words for u!!

oh u two can kind of bond i think

youre both not familiar with technology so it will work well

u know those faces grandparents make when looking through new technologies

like the eyes squinting and eyebrows furrowed look with thag confused look

yeah thats the both of u

u both try to figure it out together (it did not work out)

yall asked lilia for help

peepaw is into the trends, he can help the both of u dont worry!!

he saw how messy you could be sometimes and went damn

he'll fix u up with magic its ok

show me funny things, magic man

anyways its a habit of his to fix anything in ur appearance whenever u have ur nighty walks

like u have this dirt on ur white uniform? say no more.

theres a damned branch in ur hair (dont ask how u got that) and its tangled in ur hair?? he got u pookie

part of ur clothes r literally ripped off because god's knows what youve been doing in your free time??? u dont even need to ask bbg

#also i think razor and silver can get along quite well #the adoptive sons #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #how do i usually tag #in my boomer era i forgot how to post #is this what i usually tag???#say yes pls

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