Tumgik
#probably the best show I've seen in a while
dazeddoodles · 12 hours
Note
Have you seen the owl house pilot leaks?
Tumblr media
Yeah I saw it.
Personally I think it was better than the actual show's pilot. I've mentioned before that when I watched the first episode I thought it was kinda meh.
A big part of that was that the whole theme revolved around being rejected for being weird but the examples they gave where just kind of typical media "quirky". But as the show went on it became more obvious that "weirdos" was meant to to represent neurodivergent, disabled, and gay people.
With the pilot, I think Luz was more obviously coded neurodivergent right away. That whole scene of Luz giving Amity a drawing of them (oh yeah Amity and Lilith are in the pilot) because she thought they were friends now, and didn't pick up that Amity was just weirded out and annoyed with her. Gives off major neurodivergent trying to befriend a neurotypical vibes.
Ngl I was more devastated at the scene where Amity crumbled up Luz's drawing and was laughing at Luz thinking they were friends, than anything in the actual first episode.
And was so touched when near the end when Eda found the drawing and not knowing it was Luz's said "This beautiful. Why would anyone throw this away?". Really sold that weirdos stick together.
But it make sense that the original pilot was better since if you're pitching a show you're gonna want to put all the best ideas into the pilot. While with the actual show they probably wanted to space out those ideas and characters.
However, I like the actual show concept we got in the end better (I did NOT like the twist at the end that Eda was working for Belos)
Also it felt strange to hear Lilith have Warden Warden Wrath's lines but I noticed the slight change of line that reflects the character. In the actual first episode, Eda says she's hiding from guards and ex boyfriends. Foreshadowing Wrath. In the pilot Eda instead says "No guards or family to bother me". Foreshadowing Lilith.
Tumblr media
38 notes · View notes
adragonsfriend · 11 hours
Text
I was reading the Attack of the Clone's script for *research* purposes, and it's been a while since I've seen the full movie but:
OBI-WAN: You look tired. ANAKIN: I don't sleep well, anymore. OBI-WAN: Because of your mother? ANAKIN: I don't know why I keep dreaming About her now. I haven't seen her since I was little. OBI-WAN: Dreams pass in time. ANAKIN: I'd rather dream of Padmé. Just Being around her again is... intoxicating. OBI-WAN: Mind your thoughts, Anakin, they betray you. You've made a commitment to the Jedi order... a commitment not easily broken... and don't forget she's a politician. They're not to be trusted.
Literally I will never be able to take the "Obi-Wan is so mean he didn't let Anakin go find his mother" argument seriously ever again. On a purely factual level, there's not a single indication Anakin told Obi-Wan his dreams showed him his mother was in danger or that he thought they were dreams from the Force. Anakin says himself that he doesn't know why he's dreaming of her, which makes Obiwan's "Dreams pass in time," so incredibly reasonable.
Wait wait wait let me update the language to the *pretentious voice* modern parlance. It'll be like a Shakespere "translation." Here we go:
Obi-Wan: you look tired Anakin: I haven't been sleeping well Obi-Wan: Cuz of your dreams? Anakin: Yeah I've been randomly having dreams about my mom all of a sudden. Obi-Wan: They'll probably go away if you wait a bit. Brains are weird like that sometimes. …
The only evidence Obi-Wan might have to the danger point is that the dreams are disrupting Anakin's sleep. But Obiwan is the one to bring up the dreams, in context of them disrupting Anakin's sleep. If Anakin was looking for an opening, that was it.
But way more importantly to me currently is the fact that Anakin transitions out of talking about his mother by going "I'd rather dream of Padmé. Just Being around her again is... intoxicating."
Wtf anakin??? Who says that??? Let alone to their brother-dad???
He seriously goes from talking about his dreams of his mother to how his crush that he's known for a couple days total at this point is really hot, and people expect me to believe that Obi-Wan was supposed to divine from this conversation that they needed to immediately run halfway across the galaxy to prevent imminent disaster?????
Let me continue my translation:
… Anakin: I'd rather dream about having sex with Padmé. She's so hot and pretty and nice Obi-Wan: Anakin remember how the beliefs you've been committed to for the past ten years are maybe important to you? Also politicians are generally corrupt, we eat the rich in this household.
This is a fanfic type miscommunication plot at best, except for some reason people act like Anakin isn't being about as clear as mud.
50 notes · View notes
sonkitty · 1 day
Text
Crowley S2 Hair Post #21
(For reference: The Sideburns Scheme)
Crowley, Good Omens 2, Episode 1, The Clue, your boss
...
Sideburns Check
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The sideburns are long before Crowley fully crosses the threshold. They most likely lengthened while Aziraphale was touching the astragal and doorknob to his bookshop.
This shift suggests that the border is already expanding for entry compared to the previous episode. Aziraphale is looking at Crowley so has probably noticed.
Gabriel is on the first floor though not visible to Crowley when Crowley first entered. With both Gabriel and Aziraphale around, the sideburns stay long during the scene.
Tumblr media
When Crowley turns to Aziraphale and says, "Your boss said that to Job, do you remember?" is when it looks like the story itself most wants these long sideburns to be noticed. It's a strong right profile view of his face so gets a good look at the snake tattoo as well.
...
Brighter Red Streak Check
Tumblr media
The more saturated red streak of hair can best be found when Crowley removes his sunglasses and approaches Gabriel. That matches what episode 1 showed. Such times are when it is most clearly visible.
...
Hairstyle Changes
Tumblr media
The hair darkened and lessened in saturation. Besides those changes, the hair tilting to Crowley's right is a little lower for a stronger overall curl for the upper hair going to his left.
...
Earthly Objects
(For reference: Earthly Objects)
Aziraphale is touching the doorknob for the outside part of the door and the astragal first. He shifts his touch, so that he ends up touching the doorknob on the inside as well.
He crosses the threshold first but doesn't actually fully close the door until after Crowley has passed him and even stepped down. As I've remarked many times, I've taken note of Crowley prioritizing being first when it comes to the Heaven elevator, but going over the story more closely shows it varies on who can be first in what and how. That confuses me, but I still think, on an intuitive level, it's supposed to matter for the Heaven elevator. This "first" thing is one of my top questions. At the rate I'm going, if it's one of the solvable puzzles, I don't think I can solve it.
I think the Tied Hands finish retying.
Tumblr media
Crowley's right thumb joint touches a jacket edge when Crowley is crossing the threshold near Aziraphale. Aziraphale used his index fingers several times while crossing the street, including one time where a thumb visually touched Crowley's jacket. Still, Crowley's right index finger can be seen "making a point" shortly after that thumb joint touch. It's not as clear as other times, but it's there and likely assisted from all of Aziraphale's index finger use.
The strands push off the apparel for a bit, lining up with Crowley's left arm, then making pockets with the door windows twice, as Crowley himself moves.
Tumblr media
When he keeps moving, his watch is also visible. As he's stepping down is the strike that I think is meant for a lapel edge as part of the retying process. He is making a pocket with his legs. This pocket is mostly his left leg, some books, and the bottom of the screen.
A little more happens with one of the strands shooting forward more than the other, so the tassel is quite loose. When it comes back to Crowley's chest, the strands collectively push off again to make a brief pocket before returning to their usual place on the shirt and vest.
With that, I think they are finally officially re-tied.
Crowley is quick to grab an earthly object himself. He picks up a Jane Austen book.
When Gabriel appears, he's holding books and shelving them.
Now it's time for the next touch of The Sunglasses Trick.
Here is a GIF:
Tumblr media
This time, we're at the first Single of a group of three Singles that become a Triple.
These touches are based mainly on Crowley using different sunglasses and hissing for each touch. They occur all in a row.
The different sunglasses are what help determine this group of three is the group of Singles that become a Triple.
The hisses are the commonality found between these touches that allow the switch to the Triple at all. By hiss, I refer to a subtle demonic hiss sound effect Crowley has when he removes the sunglasses. These things are not easily heard; it's something I learned about browsing Tumblr, listened, and eventually grasped when actually putting these pieces together.
These hisses are also, in my opinion, a hint about Crowley's POV on the story.
For these Singles, there is an extra factor of an earthly object is always "held".
The earthly object this time is the Jane Austen book. Up next, will be crows that are turned into goats, understood as a miracle hold of those animals. Third, will be a glass of wine. These earthly objects look to be an interesting requirement for this part of the Trick, given that the Threshold Tricks themselves are careful about when and how earthly objects are avoided. The Perfect Entrance Trick showed us they aren't completely avoided so much as they are managed with the game's mechanics—in that case likely neutralizing the window pane of the door.
So, if you want to get really silly on thinking that Crowley is just amazing and powerful, he's too powerful to hiss alone and needs the earthly object to control and lessen the impact of the hiss. Or something. Blaming pockets is usually a good option in the game too.
Now, did this Single have overhead lights? Probably, but I don't fully understand the finer mechanics of what's happening so can't explain it well.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Crowley may have received overhead lights as early as when he grabbed the book, but we'll cover that part later with the story commentary.
Before Crowley walks closer to Gabriel, there are three lights to his left and above his ear. When he walks closer, those lights become blurry. He fully obscures one and partially obscures another. There are even more other blurry lights above his ear and to his left. There is a small set of three closer to the ones he's already possibly using. Then there are another two partly shown lights near a pillar. These lights look like they could be for Aziraphale since they are closer to him and to Aziraphale's right. The possible issue there is that Aziraphale's right ear isn't showing, and he's not capitalizing on the Metatron's mistakes, like he does in episode 6 for The Door Catch.
Another confusing factor for the overhead lights is that the next touch almost certainly doesn't have them during the actual touch because it's in the minisode. So, these lights could be like an extra reserve for that upcoming touch, especially since lights will again be shown with Crowley right before the minisode starts.
Since the Belt Head is ensured to be visible when the touch starts, that does suggest to me that these lights are relevant.
Another thing that happens is how amazingly fast the Tied Hands are retied after the touch. Crowley is making a point with his index finger while touching the book. That touch is still on camera when the sunglasses are removed from the face. He's making a pocket with his left jacket sleeve and left jacket torso. The clasp strike to a lapel edge most likely happens near the end of the cut. There's no visible thumb joint of his up to anything, but something can be found with Gabriel.
Tumblr media
After a few cuts, Gabriel's left thumb MCP joint can be found near his jacket—particularly, his jacket pocket. Meanwhile, the CMC joint is near the edge of the jacket itself. Aziraphale is visually pocketed between Crowley and Gabriel. So, by then, the Tied Hands are probably retied before the minisode actually starts. After this possible thumb joint assist, the Belt Head also gets an extra shot before the minisode starts.
That was plenty of pocket stuff, but let's go over the other pocket stuff not mentioned yet.
For some reason, there's a brief cut where Crowley is visually pocketed between Aziraphale and a pillar as he realizes Gabriel is there.
A notable pocket is that when Crowley stands on the rug, his leg, presumably, is making a pocket with an already existing shadow on it. I don't know what's actually casting that already existing shadow on the rug. This pocket remains for three cuts before Crowley removes his sunglasses.
Tumblr media
Additionally, when this shadow pocket is active, Crowley's right hand is rather particular about its position. The jacket sleeve, shirt sleeve partially out, and the right hand make a small brief pocket with the jacket lower right side below the belt. The pocket is shown again in the second cut, briefly obscured by Gabriel's left arm. When Gabriel talks about the people who were just in the shop, and Crowley slightly raises his head in interest, the pocket stays on for the full cut.
It's gone when Crowley finally moves to remove his sunglasses.
With the touch on the sunglasses, a pocket forms between Crowley's right hand, right cheek, and right shoulder. Yet another pocket forms between his left side torso of the jacket and left jacket sleeve. Still, a third pocket appears between his legs and the bottom of the screen.
When asking Gabriel what is the very first thing he remembers, a small pocket forms between Crowley's right arm, Gabriel's right thumb, part of his own jacket sleeve, and right index finger. As such, there's a pocket between Gabriel's right hand and the bottom of the screen.
After these pockets disappear is when Gabriel himself is visibly overcome, fluttering his eyes and tensing, before his eyes turn to a glowing purple.
Tumblr media
Before Crowley gets his overhead lights with the minisode about to start, there is a self-made pocket of hair that can be found. Since the area is dark or dim, and Crowley's hair is dark, it's actually found to contain some of the books from the upper floor to help make it more clear that it's actually there.
Tumblr media
Then Crowley gets those earlier mentioned overhead lights. It's a set of three with one partially obscured, so that's one for his regular head and one for his Belt Head, theoretically. He's going to be wearing a headband during the minisode. This part happens as the camera pans closer to him and Aziraphale with Crowley presumably the one meant to receive a stronger focus. Aziraphale is still on screen and will still be around when the incoming part of this minisode concludes. As such, this recollection of the memory will be shared.
Setting aside the pockets, something I find interesting with the earthly objects is that Gabriel had just finished putting books away when Crowley hissed at him with the sunglasses touch. As in, I think the reason it hurt as much as it did was because Gabriel wasn't touching an earthly object himself anymore. He'll receive another hiss later, but he will be touching an earthly object because he'll be sitting on a bed.
That hiss won't affect him in the same way though it will also be after the special connection between Crowley's and Aziraphale's homes has formed.
It's a small theory of mine that the earthly objects help the supernatural beings feel more strongly anchored while on Earth itself. Gabriel quickly reaches out and touches a shelf, for example.
This idea is part of what the Final Fifteen is about. Both Crowley and Aziraphale—on a layered level—know they shouldn't be touching earthly objects. They have to let go. They're saying good-bye for now, not just to each other, but to this special place, most of their shared home they established on Earth. They have to go because they have work to do.
The part of the shared home that stays with them is Crowley's plants and the maintained Green of the Rainbow Connection.
...
For my tangential reading in a desperate attempt to improve my play, I'm still re-reading the Good Omens book. Besides imagination, as noted in my pub visit post, there's plenty of mentions of memories and games. Agnes' prophecies are based on her remembering bits of the future. Anathema words things like so, "You see, it’s not enough to know what the future is. You have to know what it means."
Here's an excerpt about Adam and games:
Adam also had a small computer. He used it for playing games, but never for very long. He’d load a game, watch it intently for a few minutes, and then proceed to play it until the High Score counter ran out of zeroes. When the other Them wondered about this strange skill, Adam professed mild amazement that everyone didn’t play games like this. “All you have to do is learn how to play it, and then it’s just easy,” he said.
Ha! Well, Earthly Objects in Good Omens 2 definitely isn't easy.
Otherwise, I've also started on The Sandman Volume 3. Shakespeare has just shown up again. Something's going on with A Midsummer Night's Dream, so now I'm sad I've forgotten so much of that play. We performed it at my high school. I was just an extra. Still, I remember being quite fond of the play itself.
A quote from The Sandman Volume 3 that I've logged as something to keep in mind for Good Omens 2 is, "Dreams shape the world."
...
Story Commentary
Tumblr media
When Crowley enters, he is given significant focus when he looks at the bookshelf to grab the Jane Austen book. He gets special music for looking at the books and a massive lighting hint to pay attention to him. He is almost a silhouette as the light from the windows surrounds him. It's a beautiful shot.
Well, we've already paid plenty of attention to him, but let's look again for anything else not already covered, especially in the cut itself.
He is pocketed between a dark horse statue and the bookshelf.
Another dark horse statue was important for being the earthly object he placed his sunglasses on in episode 1. He's about to do that first Single-for-eventual-Triple touch for the The Sunglasses Trick during this cut. The phrase "dark horse" has already been used twice in the show with Crowley specifically saying it regarding Jane Austen earlier in this episode. This statue disappears during the ball but is back in place after Crowley cleans up the bookshop in episode 6.
The window Crowley's in front of is important because it is broken during episode 5 and remains broken until he fixes it in episode 6. I suspect there is something important about it being broken while he's in Heaven, just intuition there. Another thing is that when that windows is broken, it has a role to play for The Pocket Trick's Single. For this cut, there are three lights visibly over Crowley's head.
As noted earlier, they could be an early link for overhead lights regarding the sunglasses touch(es), leading from one set to the next, managed by the book being held.
Speaking of the book, what about the overall group of books? Well, they're possibly in a book for this story. I know posts have been made about how The Final Fifteen is like proposals out of Jane Austen books, Pride and Prejudice in particular. It kinda is, but there's a special proposal that happens later this episode, in my own understanding of the story.
It's been a long time since I've read any Jane Austen books myself, and I don't remember them well so can't contribute much on that end.
Otherwise, hey, look at Crowley. He himself is important, especially this episode. He's conceivably the best player in Earthly Objects. He's got his tactical turtleneck today, and he hasn't even started on The Pocket Trick yet. It's gonna be a big deal.
Alright enough of that.
...
The cardboard box can again be found without Crowley bothering to look at it in his line of sight during the scene.
...
This scene is interesting and open to plenty of speculation on what happens after Crowley hisses.
Crowley himself seems taken aback at Gabriel's reaction. Yeah, Crowley hissed, but he wasn't expecting that. "That" being glowing purple eyes with a quote from God to Job.
It's also part of the idea of compelling someone for an answer that I mentioned in the post about when Crowley first encountered Gabriel in episode 1.
The way Aziraphale looks at both of them and Crowley's own reaction to Gabriel struggling suggest that Crowley himself has been in a similar position to Gabriel.
As in, Crowley has also forgotten things, struggled to remember them, and had to mentally plow through the challenges to recover what he could.
Aziraphale has been around for that difficulty.
For Crowley's reaction, I'm mainly referring to that he seems to be breathing nervously as he watches Gabriel, while Aziraphale is glancing between both of them.
...
On the subject of the sideburns and rank, Aziraphale is still ultimately in charge of his own space. He's the one who tells Gabriel to go and have a rest. Gabriel pauses a moment to look at Crowley, as if for approval. With no sign of disapproval or Crowley trying to make him remember yet again, that's enough to go ahead and leave the area.
...
I can see the red on the back of the collar on Crowley's jacket in at some points in the scene though it's blurred:
Tumblr media
...
That's it for this post. Sometimes I edit my posts, FYI.
...
Main post:
The Sideburns Scheme
29 notes · View notes
smug-puppy · 9 months
Text
Netflix is such a little bitch for cancelling Lockwood and Co like "wahh it didn't get the numbers we wanted" actually shut up and give us a second series fcs
14 notes · View notes
ninja-knox-ur-sox-off · 2 months
Text
Guess who finally watched the end of Ghost and Molly McGee
I want to print that episode and hang it up on my wall
18 notes · View notes
found--family · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Helluva name for an ep! I'm thinking it's a trifecta: 
Steph dealing with her father - again, though hopefully less heartbreaking than last time; maybe something happens and he comes around to her way of thinking ie. her mom needs professional help. (I hope Steph gets someone on her side) 
Duela's mom visits her for her birthday - she got out of prison, maybe escaped? Or maybe Duela goes to visit her for her birthday. Either way, Duela's mom reveals The Joker is not her father. (I'm still on the Duela Dent train but I don't know if they'll reveal that as well; if Duela's father is fugue!Dent, her mom might leave clues for her to figure it out for herself which would mean a second reveal maybe at the end of the season, maybe just before or after Harvey's Two-Face incident leaving a cliffhanger for season 2.) 
Harvey encounters his father. The way it's worded - 'collision course' - is intriguing. Will he encounter fugue!father? Will fugue!Harvey encounter his father? Did he think his father was dead? We've only had scraps of his past and whatever the comics say, GK is doing it's own thing so who knows what could happen. If his father is alive and it's a surprise maybe fugue!Harvey will kill him? But there's still the possibility that fugue!father is in league with the owls somehow (how else would they know about the piano trigger? Unless fugue!Harvey himself gave it to them..) 
Tumblr media
I love the crew's passion for creating this story! They care about good storytelling, they care about the details, they want to entertain and surprise us! They're taking the best bits of the DCU and giving us something new! I'm very excited for the possibilites of this ep. This story continues to keep me guessing, has me caring about the characters, and keeps me invested in how things will unfold. 
14 notes · View notes
faultsofyouth · 11 months
Text
literally when I see women being frustrated with other women for staying with abusive men I feel like I'm watching the ouroboros. Like I get it, it happens to everyone, I've been there, but it's so self sabatoging.
#don't come at me if you're one of those girls currently angry at her friend for continuing to date an abuser after you and everyone else#told her not to#I spent 7 years watching different men beat my mother and I've had a lot of friends who faced very different kinds of abuse from other men#so when I say your anger is not constructive believe me because it is my anger too. and I know it hurts and I know it can drive you insane#but when your friend Sees that anger it will hurt her in a way you cannot understand. And if you are hurting her while you claim to love he#while you claim to have her best interests at heart -> then she cannot differentiate between the way you treat her#and the way her abuser does. And I know that's not fair I know it's not the same#And I know you probably care for her in a way her man does not. But when you tell her what to do she doesn't see You.#She sees the man who tells her what to do and how to live. She won't listen to you over that man because you sound the same#You sound eerily similar but he is manipulating her and you are just angry and upset. He will always seem to offer the better deal#so just don't be that angry friend anymore. Be an open door she can walk through whenever she needs a break from an evil man.#Be the life she Could have if she really believed she deserved it. Be good and respectful and supportive even when you feel like killing hi#show her how Everyone should treat her. Show her she deserves to be treated good; show her it is no problem for You to treat her good#And she Will start demanding that from men. From everyone. But she will do it on her own time#With her own setbacks and she will set her own standards. They might never be your standards but they will be better than what they are now#but first you have to be supportive and not angry. You have to root for what She wants and not for her relationship to fail#Even if you really truly hope the relationship will fail. You have to convince her that you want the same things she wants#You have to convince her that you want her to be happy no matter what that looks like. And Then she will ask you#To help make her life happier. And in my experience; that is the only way to truly see someone get to a better place#You have to help them get what they Want. This is way harder than being angry. Insanely harder. But I have seen women change a Lot#after I stopped feeling angry over them. After I stopped trying to convince them that I know what is best for them
4 notes · View notes
Text
It's not the city that it was, when you were 23 or nine or even 17. The plastic subway seats, those haven't changed. But there are buildings that don't fit right in the skyline. Like condos and bike lanes, a topographic shift.
Someone is pissing in the street; that hasn't changed. But all those neon lights, they're not as bright on 8th as you remember. The sidewalk feels too grey, a long walk home that you don't think is anywhere but here.
2 notes · View notes
jytan2018 · 10 months
Text
I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.
- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.
- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.
- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.
- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).
- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.
- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.
- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.
- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.
- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).
- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.
I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:
Tumblr media
[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]
Watch Nimona. This is not a request.
Edit: Added more thoughts!
14K notes · View notes
atrwriting · 5 months
Text
trust me -- billy the kid x barowner!reader
Tumblr media
hi everyone :) sorry I've been MIA — law school has been kicking my #ass but it's ok. I saw the new thg movie and while IAMNOTACORIOSNOWSTAN but I am a t*m bl*th and the man was so fine in this show. so fine. I've only seen like three fics for this man (maybe I just don't know how to search correctly thats probably my fault) but I was SEARCHING FOREVER and then I just got pissed because I couldn't find any so I wrote almost eight thousand words for this man that is how down bad I was
informal warnings: me. 1) I should be put on a leash 2) I use italics way too much 3) and whatever the fuck this "—" is 4) will i ever give up the female bar owner trope 5) will I ever stop tho? [vanilla ice voice] no, I don't know
as always, the actual warnings: smutty smut smut SMUT!, unprotected sex (1880's bby but you still gotta wrap it before you tap it), violence, guns, bit of gore but like the tiniest bit, virgin!reader, p in v sex, oral sex, bit of a dom!billy, bit of a bratty!sub!reader, overstimulation what can I say I should be put on a leash
anyway.... here's trust me:
when your father died… it was hard to be sad. he wasn’t very kind and he never seemed to like you very much… but in his will, being his only surviving kin, he left you money.
a lot of it.
and an old building.
the town it resided in was convenient in the way that many people that were passing through had to stop there. so what did you do? well, the only thing you could do — turn it into a restaurant and boarding house.
the money he left behind was used to fix up the place and pay your employees.
within a few weeks time, your place was up and running with very little vacancy. families and important people were always in your bar or comfortably in their rooms. never had you ever thought someone could be as lucky as you.
until one day. that day.
you worked alongside your employees but flipped between positions. sometimes you were a hostess, ran the front desk, a bartender, or anything else that needed tending to. in response, many people did not know you were the owner — and, therefore, some people treated you like you weren’t.
mainly gross old men, which you could handle. however, when a young, strong, and tall man challenged you?
that was dangerous. too dangerous.
even a fake wedding ring didn’t steer them away.
on that day, a young blacksmith had found his way into your bar. he was handsy with you much of the night, and you tried your best to steer him away. it wasn’t until you pulled a knife on him that he finally let up. it didn’t look like anyone saw, but still — you were scared and worried. would people think you classless, for pulling a knife on a patron? would they see you as weak? would they notice that the alcohol you served brought in too rowdy of a crowd? would they stop venturing in?
you thought no one noticed, and tried to convince yourself of that fact — but you were wrong.
when you were closing for the night, mostly everyone had left. a small group of men usually stayed until close — and you didn’t mind. they drank well, paid their tab, and were mostly quiet and polite. you didn’t know any of their names — but it was usually bad when you did know a patron’s name, so you liked them.
you had your back turned to the front of the bar, stacking bottles, when someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“ma’am?”
you turned around.
a tall, fair skinned man with a hat stood before you. his clothes were old and worn, and his fingernails reflected that he was a hard worker during the day. that type of exhaustion was also reflected in his eyes.
but, damn... his face? no one could deny that that man was handsome.
you smiled. “another drink, sir?”
“no. thank you.” he paused for a moment, keeping your gaze. “i wanted to check if you were alright.”
you immediately knew what he was talking about, but kept your face stoic. “yes, sir, thank you.”
he looked like he wanted to say something, but struggled with how to word it. “he usually a problem?”
you clenched your jaw. “he’s… he’s fine. too much drink, ‘s’all. gets the best of working men. can’t blame ‘em.” you swallowed, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. who was this man and why did he care? was he a friend of the man? “you sure there’s nothing i can’t get for you?”
“some wouldn't blame ‘em.” he ignored your question. his bright blue eyes held your gaze. “i would.”
you forced a tight lipped smile. with a laugh, you joked, “i’ll… be fine, sir. thank you. thought a fake wedding ring would do the trick… gotta think of something else now.”
he smiled, but in a sad way. “i was going to ask if your husband ever checked in on the place.”
“no husband,” you affirmed with a sigh. you introduced yourself, and then asked, “what’s your name?”
“william h. bonney, ma’am… but you can call me billy.”
“nice to meet you, billy,” you smiled. “and, please — don’t call me ma’am.”
“alright.” he returned your smile. “the men behind me… we run a sort of — security detail for part time work. if you ever wanted to hire us, we could have a man here when we can spare.”
you nodded, contemplating your offer. he explained the per diem, and you immediately agreed.
“if your man can keep this place safe with little bloodshed, i’ll even throw in a free bottle a day,” you countered.
and that was how your business with billy the kid and his men began.
the men that came along were usually polite and quiet, and mostly stayed at the edge of the bar. they watched for problems, and slowly but surely your fear had begun to subside. there was a minor scuffle one day, where a man had cracked a glass and cut you with it… but billy’s man had stopped him before he could do anything else. you didn’t hold it against billy’s guy — you cared about your business and if the business got bloody, not so much yourself.
billy, on the other hand… did not agree.
one day, bright and early, he parked himself at the middle of the bar where you stood behind the counter.
“rarely see you for detail,” you smiled, wiping down a glass. “much less this early. breakfast, mr. bonney?”
“billy, ma’am,” he responded. “breakfast does sound fine.”
you laughed. “i hate when you call me ma’am.”
“don’t much like it when you call me mister,” he quirked an eyebrow. billy was a rather emotionless and hard man, but you could tell he was joking.
you laughed again. “steak and eggs for billy, coming right up.”
the rest of the day went on peacefully, and you kept billy’s glass full. he was quiet and didn’t talk much, which you weren’t too keen about. he was mysterious, tall, dark and handsome — which was usually a bad combination. you knew it was, and you should’ve cared — but you didn’t.
as you were filling billy’s glass into the later hours of the afternoon, you finally bucked up the courage to ask him a question.
“so why did you stop in today?” you asked. “not that i mind. i just have only seen you when you come in at night.”
“we made a deal, sweetheart,” he responded. your eyes perked up at the nickname. you didn’t hate the nickname — but you hated yourself a wee bit for how much you liked hearing billy call you it. “the man i sent here was supposed to make sure he kept you from harm — he didn’t hold up his end on the deal.”
“it was kept quiet from the other patrons,” you responded. “that’s all i really care about. i’m a woman in the restaurant and boardinghouse business — stuff like that is bound to happen. no need to be hard on him.”
“you keep my men’s glasses too full for them to let slip ups like that happen,” he replied. “he knew better. should've acted better.”
“you’re the boss, billy,” you sighed with a smile. “i’m just the bartender.”
“damn good bartender at that,” he spoke. “too good.”
you giggled, and grew ashamed rather quickly at how much you enjoyed his company. you didn’t know him well, no… but damn, was it nice to have him around.
the rest of the night was rather quiet. a few families had stepped in and out, and a few meetings were being held where the tables sat. that was until the blacksmith that started this whole thing came in and sat himself only a stool away from billy.
you threw a look at billy, but he didn’t meet your eyes. his peripheral vision was already on the man. billy remembered him, and you couldn’t say fondly.
“whiskey, sweetheart,” he grunted. “leave the bottle.”
you sighed. a quiet day was going to turn into a rough night in a matter of a few moments.
“mr. martin, i can’t leave the bottle unless you settle your tab from the nights prior,” you answered. “i can get you a double and add it on, though, if that’s alright with you?”
“that’s not alright with me, girl,” he grunted again, glaring you down. “leave the damn bottle!”
you stood your ground. “there’s a bar across the street, mr. martin.”
“you don’t want my business, that it, sweetheart?”
“not much business if you don’t pay," you quipped.
through gritted teeth, he spat, “leave. the damn. bottle.”
“pay. the. tab.”
he went to catch you by the arm, but you were too quick. you anticipated his antics this time. you snatched an empty bottle, and broke the base of it in the sink. you put the broken, jagged edge of the neck of the bottle in between the two of you. your eyes were wild — you could feel it, and both men could definitely see it. startled, he drew back.
“this is the only bottle you’re getting with that attitude.”
that was when billy stood up and walked towards the man. the thuds of his boots, though few considering the short distance, were deafening in the mostly silent bar. you may have had a makeshift weapon, but billy? billy the kid? everyone knew what he had on him.
“time for you to leave, friend.”
the man laughed. “friend? who’s my friend to tell me when i need to leave?”
“the one who’s a quicker draw than you, that's who." his answer was slow and cool — too calm, which only made the shiver of a threat run up and down your spine faster.
the man, all talk, clenched his jaw as he stared at billy. he slapped the tab money on the top of the bar, and walked out.
you didn’t let out a sigh of relief until the man left.
but billy was the one that spoke first. “was going to step in immediately… but you held your own. they need to respect you before they’re scared of me.”
you laughed. “little does he know i’m all talk as well.”
“with that bottle?” he chuckled. “sweetheart, even i was scared.”
“you threatened him with a gun… i don’t think anything scares you, billy,” you asked. “thank you for stepping in.”
“‘s my job.”
“i know… but still,” you spoke.
you were continuing to close before he spoke again.
“what made you want to start this place?” he asked.
“my father passed a few moons before i opened this place,” you responded. “no parents, no husband — thought i might try this out.”
“my ma wanted to start a place like this,” he replied. “never got the chance.”
you nodded with a sad smile. “didn’t know her… but i think she’d be proud of how you handled that. don’t think he’ll be much trouble anymore.”
“she’d think i’m trouble with how full the lovely bartender keeps my glass,” he spoke, but looked like he instantly regretted it. “my apologies, i shouldn’t’ve — the whiskey —“
“you’re fine,” you laughed, your blush pinching your cheeks. as you walked away, you threw over your shoulder, “hopefully your ma wouldn’t mind that i keep her son’s glass full for his good work… nor that i think her son’s handsome.”
from that day forward, billy was always the man who sat at your bar.
he always greeted and made pleasant conversation with you, and glared at any man that got too aggressive with you. if looks could kill… billy would never need what he held in his holster.
you’d giggle to yourself after the creepy men would walk away. you’d never know… but when billy would hear your giggle afterwards, he’d smile, too.
but he kept that to himself.
however, slowly… he was becoming more comfortable with your company.
“so why didn’t you marry?” he one day asked randomly.
you were wiping down a glass when you got lost in the thought. “when there’s a nice one that’s interested… maybe. haven’t already because there aren’t very many nice ones. it was very convenient when you started keeping the bad ones away.”
to your dismay, he didn’t say anything in response.
but you had gotten comfortable with his company, too. too comfortable.
“and why isn’t there a mrs. bonney, billy?”
“she’d get jealous about how much time i spend with you,” he responded.
there was very little emotion in his voice, and you were afraid of reading into what he was saying. was he returning your flirtations? was he telling you that you were a drag? to answer your own question, you jokingly said, “well if i’m too much trouble, mr. bonney, you are more than welcome to have another one of your men step in.”
“well, ma’am —“ he began. “then i’d get jealous of how much time they were spending with you.”
you couldn’t hide the blush that rose into your cheeks. billy looked upon your face with a small smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze didn’t waver.
“keep talking like that, billy, and i’ll become trouble for you,” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“can’t say i’d mind much,” he responded, taking a sip of his glass, but holding eye contact with you.
if you weren’t frozen, you would’ve pulled yourself over the bar right then and then and planted yourself in his lap. you would’ve flung his glass to the floor, and wouldn’t have cleaned it up until you had kissed every inch of that man. you would’ve responded, but you couldn’t...
that was when billy’s men had stepped into the bar.
the air immediately darkened. the blonde one, named jesse, had led the pack as they stalked in. billy immediately flipped around to see what the problem was.
“sweetheart, give us a minute,” billy asked, calling over his shoulder.
billy never gave you orders, let alone in your own bar. however, if he was asking you to… you figured you should probably listen. you left the bar and went into the back. most of your employees had left for the night, so you helped the remaining ones clean up. it would be a few minutes or so before billy had come back into the kitchen to find you. you went back into the bar with him.
“i’ll be back before you close,” he spoke. “lock the doors.”
a second order. something he never did in the first place. something was wrong. you didn’t pry… you just scrunched your eyebrows in response.
“something’s up,” he spoke. he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before he turned to leave. “i’m takin’ care of it.”
there you stood, absolutely stunned. billy and his men left the bar with haste and didn’t look back. you, on the other hand, stood frozen… unable to leave the spot where you had billy the kid, known for his deadly skills, kiss you on the cheek.
you finally moved, reluctantly, but only to close up.
it would be close to an hour before billy finally came back. a few of his friends came with him, and they dragged in a man on their shoulder who was grunting in pain. blood was pouring from his leg, and you immediately went for the medical supplies you kept hidden under the counter. you grabbed two bottles of whiskey for good measure, arguably also a part of your makeshift kit.
“put him down on the table,” you gushed. his men were stunned to see you hustling, but they didn’t hesitate to rest their friend. you immediately took a look at the man’s leg, and were thankful to see that there would be no permanent damage. you shoved a bottle at jesse, and stated, “make him drink this.”
jesse had unscrewed the bottle and helped his friend drink before you fished out the bullet. thankfully no arteries were punctured, but it would be some time before he was good again. you cleaned up the man the best you could, and asked if any of the men needed anything.
“no, ma’am…” jesse responded. “we were going to bring him here and do it ourselves, your place was closest… so thank you.”
you smiled at him. “take the bottles. need it more than me.”
he tipped his hat to you.
“jesse,” billy began. “you and the boys head home.”
without question, jesse nodded. they helped their friend to his feet and left with a goodbye. even though they left, the unsettling feeling of the room hadn’t changed. billy seemed… different. heavier. he wasn’t the same man that had kissed you on the cheek before he had left.
you turned to him. “i won’t pry, but —“
“good,” he spat, turning to you. billy’s eyes bore into yours like you were one of the problem men at your bar. “don’t.”
a look of hurt flashed across your face. you could feel it. “you’re looking at me like i did something.”
“i told you to lock the door,” he spat again, his look of anger unwavering.
you had only seen billy's eyes that wide and that angry when there was someone being cruel to you. the thought made you shiver.
“how would you have gotten back in?” you asked.
“knocked,” he bit.
you narrowed your eyes at his curt response. “i had a feeling something was wrong. if i had waited to unlock, i couldn’t have gotten that bullet out as fast as i did.”
“doesn’t matter,” he bit. “how am i supposed to keep you safe if you won’t listen to me?”
you scrunched your brows together in confusion. “billy… whatever happened where you were, it wasn’t here. i could’ve gone to bed… but i stayed up. waiting for you.”
“and what if someone came in, huh? what then?” he hollered. “what would you have done then?! what would i have done if you had gotten hurt?”
you shook your head in disbelief. you couldn’t believe billy was speaking to you with such disdain. “with the way you’re talking to me, billy — sounds like you’re used to women who don’t pull knives on creepy men, hold broke bottles to their necks — or fish bullets out of legs when i don’t know why he was shot in the first place. you’re used to those kind of women, and have a problem with me? maybe you should go back to them.”
you immediately turned away from him, beginning to walk towards the bar. billy was hot on your heels when he reached out to grab your wrist and turned you around.
he grabbed both sides of your face and pressed his lips to yours.
you wanted to scream at him, throw fists at his chest, push him away — anything to let you know how he hurt you, how he wronged you... but you couldn't.
no. you couldn't.
you were so stunned you stood frozen in place as his lips moved against yours. you loosely held his wrists in your hands, and kissed him back.
“don’t want those girls, darlin’,” he spoke, breathless, in between kisses. “knew you were a real woman the first time i saw you. the kind that puts the fear of god into you, but looks at you with such a sweetness in her eyes that you can’t look away.”
“better believe it, bonney,” you spat, half joking. “you’ve seen how quick i am.”
“i know, darlin’, i know,” he whispered, kissing you once more. “i also know i was wrong to speak to you the way i did.”
“shut your damn mouth and kiss me,” you replied, pulling him closer to you.
“yes, ma’am,” he playfully responded, and you slapped his shoulder.
billy had backed you up against the wall and pressed his body towards yours. you stood on your toes to reach him, and even then he had to lean down a foot or two.
“billy…” you began, pulling away. “i’ve never… but if you wouldn’t think less of me, we could go upstairs. to my room.”
“i’d never think less of you,” he spoke, shaking off your comment. “but… what’d’ya mean, ‘never?’”
“i’ve never been with a man, billy,” you responded, suddenly embarrassed.
he was quiet for a moment, before stating, “you sure you want it to be with me?”
you nodded. “if… if you want to, that is.”
he didn’t respond to your statement, he just kissed you. he kissed you with every emotion you didn’t think he ever possessed — raw, hot, desperate emotion that held you close and tight to him. the heat and the intensity made your brain swim, but you could only care so much when billy the fucking kid wanted you.
he slipped an arm around your shoulders and then underneath your knees before he picked you up. you bit back a squeal before you threw your arms around his neck.
“light as a feather, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he spoke.
“all that steak i been feeding you?” you joked.
“my belt can’t help it if my woman feeds me well,” he replied, almost at the top of the stairs.
“you’re a flirt,” you giggled.
you pointed him towards your room. once in, he laid you down on the bed and laid on top of you. his body was warm and sturdy over yours, and you couldn’t help but feel warm. his hips were pressed against yours, but you couldn’t feel him through your dress. you grew frustrated at the thought.
you made quick work to undue his shirt, and billy was quick to catch on. he pulled away to take off his shirt, and you tried to take off your corset with his help.
“damn death trap,” he spat, fussing.
you giggled. he was cute when he was flustered, but nothing compared to the way he was looking hungrily down at you. you were completely bare before him, and you should’ve been embarrassed… but shame wasn’t present in this moment. the only thing you registered was how billy looked down at you — with adoration in his eyes as they raked down your naked form.
“will you…” you began. “will you show me… how to please… you?”
“another time, sweetheart,” he spoke, stealing a quick kiss from you. “i need my head between those legs of yours.”
“you-you don’t have to —“ you spoke. “i know that’s not something — that boys —“
“yeah — boys.” billy snapped, glaring at you. “real men want to taste their women.”
that shut you right up.
billy wedged himself in between your thighs and spread your folds. it caused a sharp intake of breath on your part, but you didn’t realize what you were in for. billy flattened his tongue, and licked a long stripe up your slit. your teeth sank into your lip at the foreign feeling that cause so much warmth to make your veins twitch.
…but when billy’s nose had nudged a specific spot at the top of your slit — your legs jerked.
“what — what —“ you stammered.
“shh,” billy cooed, slightly laughing. “i forgot how sensitive you were. my apologies, sweetheart.”
you trusted billy, sure, but you had never felt anything like that before in your life. the jerking motion of your legs was involuntary and made you fearful. billy could see the fear written on your face.
“that spot that i touched, that you felt?” he asked.
his eyes were so wide and meaningful you felt like you could melt in them. you brought yourself up to your elbows and hummed in acknowledgement.
“that is the most sensitive part of a woman, and if i play it just right —“ ever so lightly, you felt his middle finger and ring finger touch the spot. you shivered at the feeling, but you didn’t flinch like last time. you held his gaze as the warmth began to spread inside you. “i can make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.”
billy bent over your body and held himself up with extended arm planted firmly by your side. he swiped the two fingers over his tongue to lubricate them, and brought them right back to where they were. you both watched his fingers play at the most sensitive part of you, and your lip began to quiver.
“look at me, sweetheart.”
your eyes glanced back up to him.
like you thought before, if angry looks could kill… anyone would die by just a look from billy the kid. however, what would they say about the way he’s looking at you now? with his plump lips parted, and his eyes wild and hungry? you didn't know... but you knew you would find out.
“y’trust me?” he asked.
you hummed in agreement, nodding.
“say it.”
you sharply inhaled, caught off guard by his order. “yes, billy — i trust you.”
instead of leaning back down to plunge his face in between your thighs, he kissed you. his lips connected with yours in one of the most dominating ways you ever thought a man could. with his hand playing between your thighs, he swallowed every moan and cry you struggled to keep hidden inside of you. billy was breathing hard against you — relishing in how it felt to have you so vulnerable and close to him.
that was when his fingers picked up speed.
and, god… did it feel damn good.
“b-billy,” you whimpered. “feels…”
“still trust me?”
“yes,” you cried, screwing your eyes shut. “yes, it’s just…”
he leaned his head down so his mouth was right by your ear. his breaths were hot against your ear, and you hummed at the feeling. your hand played with the curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at the roots.
“fuck — you takin’ what i’m givin’ to you, darlin’,” he rasped, then continued, “drives me insane.”
you could barely hear what he was saying, nor could you respond. your head was swimming with the weight of billy so close to your naked body, holding you down and safe, with those skilled fingers of his working you like you were a damn trigger. you were a whimpering, crying mess — and billy loved every second of it.
“something — feels —“
“d’ya want me to stop?” he asked, breathless.
“no,” you whimpered, confused how the warmth inside you felt like it was going, going, going. you didn’t know where it started, where it was going, and definitely didn’t know where it ended. you were worried that you were going to explode — but you didn’t understand. “something feels — like i’m — i’m going —“
“let it happen, sweetheart.” his kisses were wet and sloppy along the skin of your throat. he nipped at the skin, and that only sent you into more of a frenzy. “that’s right, darlin’. that’s it. trust me. i’ve got you.”
and that was it.
the thing — billy’s words, that sent you toppling over whatever metaphorical edge you could think of to describe it. it felt like white, hot sparks went off behind your closed eyelids and were going off on every nerve ending in your body. whimpers left your bitten lips like you were a babe, and your back arched off the bed. distantly, you could hear billy cooing with excitement, laughter… and praise.
a light sheen of sweat was on both of you, and billy had never looked better. his musk was wafting through the air and had completely taken over your senses. you felt like the only thing in the room was billy and the only thing in the world that mattered was billy. men got drunk off whiskey, but you? you got drunk off of that pure, unfiltered scent and look of a masculine man who showed you how to experience the pleasure of a woman you had never known.
“fuck…” you whimpered as you came down from your high. you tried pushing billy’s hand away, but you were so weak you didn’t think you could.
“sorry, darlin’,” he laughed, kissing your throat again. “got selfish. wanted to keep seeing that pretty look on your face.”
it was difficult for you to find words, let alone enough for an adequate response. “billy… that… that felt…”
“i’m gonna be trouble for you now.” he stole a kiss. “nothing better than seeing you below me, like that…”
“i want you to feel good, too,” you began. “please, billy? i wanna see you, too.”
his lips formed a tight line. “i don’t want it to hurt you.”
“first time doesn’t always hurt,” you spoke. “no one says the second time hurts.”
he smiled at that, and began to roll on top of you. you stopped him, and gestured for him to sit up against the headboard. he was hesitant at first, but he did it anyway. you hovered your hips above his before licking one of your palms and gliding it over the tip of his length. you stroked him a few times, and a soft moan left his lips at the feeling.
“i can keep going,” you spoke, throwing a sultry look up at him. “i want to make you feel good.”
“no, doll,” he rasped. “too selfish. need to see that pretty face of yours do what it does again.”
you pouted for a short moment before you lifted your hips above his length and began to sink down. you could feel a slick leaking from your folds, which made you feel better about actually getting him inside you.
“go slow,” he ordered suddenly. “you stop if it hurts, got it?”
you nodded, half ignoring him.
but it didn’t hurt.
the first inch didn’t hurt. the second didn’t. the third, the fourth, the fifth, sixth, — you lost count. billy was so big and filled you so nicely that you were so greedy with how you sank down into him. you couldn’t have cared less about what he said before about going slow — all you needed was to feel all of him completely.
“you didn’t listen —“ he grunted, slightly mad. “you’re so lucky you feel good, fuck — you’re so tight —“
“so what if i didn’t listen, mr. bonney?” you smiled coyly at him, a sudden bout of confidence coming over you. maybe it was the post orgasm glow, maybe it was the new feeling of having the most perfect man inside of you — you weren’t sure. “you feel — so good.”
“don’t get bold on me, sweetheart,” he smirked.
you didn’t listen. you picked up your pace, rocking your hips back and forth to what felt good inside of you.
billy’s cock liked that, sure — but he didn’t. you could see the mental turmoil on his face as his neglected cock was finally getting the attention it deserved, but his hothead person didn’t like that his girl was getting smart on him.
that was when billy flipped you over onto your back, much to your dismay. you liked putting on a show for him and doing all the work for a change.
“you wanna act like that, darlin’, huh?” he asked in your ear with a raspy, lust filled voice. “not gonna listen to me?”
“it just felt so good, billy, please —“ you were whining at this point, pissed he had taken away that feeling.
“oh, you’re a greedy thing, that right?” he taunted. “gets one fuckin’ taste, and now she can’t get enough?”
you shook your head, desperate for something — anything. “so greedy, baby. please, billy — please just fuck me.”
his hips snapped against you. hard.
maybe it should’ve hurt — but fucking christ, it didn’t. it felt so good to have his strong, forceful hips thrust against yours and hit that spot so deep inside of you.
“you like that?” he asked, taunting you. “that’s what my greedy girl wanted? — needed?”
his hips were relentlessly snapping against yours now as he hovered above you by holding himself up on his elbows. the sight of his broad and strong chest and shoulders… enough to make any woman weak. a firm crease was in his brow, signaling he was struggling to keep up his mean persona.
“yes — yes —“ you cried. “billy, you’re so deep — it feels — fuck, you can’t stop billy. please —“
“sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” he grunted. “squeezing me so tight.”
“right there — that’s the spot, baby,” you bit your lip to keep your voice down.
billy leaned his forehead against yours, and his exhales fanned against your face. little moans were escaping his lips as well, but nothing like yours. instead, he spat, “couldn’t let me be nice to you and fuck you sweet, huh? had to get smart on me?”
you could barely hear him. billy’s usual raspy, and commanding voice was enough to make anyone stand at attention — but now? now you were some cockdrunk whore who didn’t care how she got what she wanted, only that she did. his thrust were hard and fast, hitting a deep spot in you that was making that warmth swell up in you again.
“didn’t want sweet, billy,” you whimpered. “wanted you to use me just like this.”
you weren’t sure what came over you — and billy wasn’t sure either. his thrusts didn’t falter, but he couldn’t understand how the pretty, innocent looking bartender could be so fucking naughty — but only for him. a sense of pride had never welled up inside him like that before, knowing that he was the only one who got to see the prettiest girl in town keen for someone’s touch like this.
his touch. only his touch.
“gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” he spat against your ear. “should’ve known you’d be such a good girl for me — taking my cock like this. can you cum around my cock like this? gonna be the best girl — and show me how that pussy tightens around me?”
the curse words billy drew from you were not your sunday best, but they made billy’s guttural groans against your throat and ear that much more enticing. you were both covered in sweat, spit, and slick — and nothing had ever felt better. you were close, so close — and all you wanted was to see him finish so you could see it for yourself.
“billy, i’m so close —“ you cried. “but i wanna —i wanna see you —“
“shhh,” he cooed. “gonna take what i give you, sweet girl.”
he sent a hand in between your bodies, and started playing with that spot that had made you explode the last time. you almost protested, but there was nothing like having a man buried so deep inside you do whatever he could to make sure you felt the best you could. you whined, you cried, you screamed, fuck — you did everything to let him know that you were close, billy, i’m so close, please, i’m begging, please don’t stop, and billy refused to look away from your beautiful face as you came undone below him once more.
with your beautiful hair fanned out around you, billy thought you looked ethereal as your second orgasm overtook you. there was something about the way your eyes fluttered softly closed, but broken gasps left your lips like you were so far gone in pleasure that you were lost in it. here, beneath him, before him, was a woman he had spent so much time protecting, so worried about her safety… all he wanted to do was make her feel good. when your limbs began to quiver, knowing you were so deep in your orgasm that you were at the peak, billy couldn’t help himself. he knew you were sensitive, he knew how it would be too much, he knew he shouldn't — but he had to. he was so, so selfish with his greedy girl.
his fingers kept spinning circles on your pink rosebud, and it was like the white light behind your eyes couldn’t stop. you were gasping for air — begging, pleading, hoping, wishing. it was so much. it was too much. it was everything and anything all at once, and you didn’t realize how far you were falling until tears leaked from your eyes.
he should've hated himself for making you feel so lost, but he didn't. not one bit.
“billy —“ you cried, shaking. “i’m so — so sensitive —“
he engulfed you into a long kiss, smiling smugly against your lips. you would’ve laughed with him, but you were so weak. so, so weak. he knew how sensitive you were, and stopped his movements completely. you didn’t realize he hadn’t finished with you until he began to pull out of you.
“billy — you didn’t —“
“s’alright, darlin’—“
“no, it’s not,” you said firmly. “teach me how to do — that thing.”
“that... thing?”
“with my mouth.”
he hesitated before shaking his head. “i don’t… tonight was a lot — for you.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “boys don’t taste their women, right? men do?”
he scrunched his eyebrows together, confused, but nodded anyway.
“and what about real women, billy?” you asked. “you think they like leaving their men unsatisfied?”
his lips parted at a loss. he couldn’t argue with that, could he?
“sit on the edge of the bed,” you spoke, sliding out from under him and finding a place on the floor.
he hesitated, but he didn’t argue with that, either.
you tried to hide your smirk from him.
he'd never tell you he saw it. he also would never tell you he loved it.
"you gonna tell me what to do, or what, cowboy?" you smirked up at him, taunting.
he shook his head, and pursed his lips in a way that he knew you were in over your head. "you're acting bold. let's see if you got a reason to."
you narrowed your eyes at him, but smiled anyway.
you returned your attention to the muscle you were holding in yours hands. it was long and thick — you weren't sure how it fit inside you before, and you definitely weren't sure how you were going to fit it in your mouth.
"too much for you, darlin'?" he quipped.
you shot him a look. "wasn't too much a minute ago, was it?"
you didn't let him respond. you licked the palm of your hand — throwing manners to the wind — and wrapped your hand around the tip and the top of the shaft. you made circular, stroking motions at the top and licked a stripe, like he did to you, up his shaft.
that shut him up.
a long and drawn out fuuuck had left his lips.
you shouldn't've — you knew you shouldn't've.
but you did anyway.
you started to kitten lick at his balls, and you could feel him shift from above you. hot and heavy groans were leaving his lips, to the point where he was incoherent. now that you had found his sweet spot, you'd never let go. just like he didn't.
"fuck, you are naughty," he rasped, voice dry and cracked. "my naughty girl. so good f'me."
you hummed as you wrapped your lips around the skin of his balls. they were warm and salty, and you relished in the taste. billy placed a heavy palm on the back of your head. you realized then and there he was foreign to giving up control — usually you'd give in, but not now. not when he was teasing you before.
you replaced your hand with your lips, and brought him down as far as you could.
from the corner of your eye, you spotted him beginning to fist the sheets.
tears were springing to your eyes, but you didn't care. you wanted to — had to keep going. you wanted this so badly — to take care of him. you needed this, and if he wanted it, too — he was going to give it to you.
you began to bob your head up and down, taking care to mind your gag reflex and teeth. the slurping sounds from your mouth were obscene — as was the drool falling from your lips, down your cheek, and along the skin of your raw neck.
both of billy's hands were on the back of your head now, giving you slightest — almost ghost like — push down. you welcomed it, hoping to show him you could take him far, farther than he thought you could handle.
above, he was going crazy. fucking nuts. his entire body was hot and on fire, and it took every ounce of him to not drag you back up into his lap and impale you on his cock. however... his muscles were tired, and his sweet girl looked so perfect on her knees before him, and who was he to deny her what she wanted so badly — what she earned?
he'd never tell you — but he wanted you to have it more than you wanted it yourself. he wanted you to know that he only felt comfortable enough with you to be in such a vulnerable position like this — pretty woman, teeth so close to his jewels. he wanted you to know that you were setting every nerve, vein, blood vessel on absolute fucking fire with the way your silky tongue slid down the length of his shaft, and the way your tight, warm throat enclosed around his sensitive cock... he wanted you to know how much he adored you, and how much he wanted to give you everything you had ever wanted.
"fuck, sweetheart —" he bit. "I'm so close — you better — pull off —"
"too much for you, cowboy?" she only pulled off for a second, before she put him into the deepest parts of her throat.
the way you teased him set a raw set of anger and adoration through this veins, and he didn't know what to do with it. he was so weak, tired, spent, and fucking horny — he couldn't move, think, or fight back. all he wanted was to cum down this sweet girl's throat and make her his.
"that's it, baby, fuck —" he spat through gritted teeth, the hands on the back of your head encouraging your movements. "right there, right there — fuck."
you held your place, keeping a few inches of him in your mouth. his thick cock throbbed a few times before ropes of white decorated the walls of your throat, and you swallowed every last drop. you pumped him a few more times, for good measure — and also to get back at him for earlier.
"don't be mean to me, baby —" he whined. "come up and lay with me."
you giggled, crawling up the bed to lay next to him.
"gonna tell me how that was?" you asked. "or too proud?"
he chuckled then. his post orgasm glow was so beautiful... for the first time, william h. bonney didn't have a permanent from embedded in his brow. he looked so... peaceful.
"not too proud to admit that was the best I've ever had in my life," he laughed, letting his eyes close. you trailed a hand up and down the soft skin of his chest and stomach before curling up next to him. "going to be proud after i take you to the courthouse tomorrow and make you my wife."
you scoffed at that. "i didn't think cowboys were the settling down type."
"they're not — but i'm no cowboy, sweetheart," he rasped, turning to look at you. "you're it for me — if you'll have me, that is."
you smiled then. a real smile. the type of smile that gave billy hope.
"on one condition," you spoke.
his eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded his head anyway.
"you'll ask me for real in the morning, mr. bonney."
"i'll give you anything you want, mrs. bonney — as long as you're mine."
---
what did we think?? xox
-L
4K notes · View notes
dunmeshistash · 14 days
Text
Laios Backstory
I've been wanting to compile the comics that talk about Laios backstory for a while, especially after reading the "Laios and Family" extra from the new Adventurer's Bible that re-contextualizes it from Falin's POV.
Tumblr media
So I'll be posting and discussing parts from the manga and extras that talk about/show his and Falin's Backstory. Spoilers Ahead.
First, here are their timelines from world guide, its a nice way to situate whats happening and how old they are.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Starting with chapter 52 - Bacon and Eggs, Laios tells his and Falin's story to his party for the first time, after being asked by Senshi why they came to the island.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Laios left the village a year before Falin did. Falin was 9 and Laios was 12, they only met again 9 years later when Laios deserted the army.
Tumblr media
"That's why I decided that I would never leave Falin behind again. At least until she finds somebody new that she wants to be with."
Then there's the "Laios and Family" extra from the new adventurer's bible:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I really enjoy the recontextualization from Falin's POV. Especially since we get to understand their parents better.
And Laios finally explains that he left so he could build a better life for them where Falin wouldn't be treated badly. Only to fail and realize she was doing better without him.
Tumblr media
They both want what's best for each other but they're too silly.
Tumblr media
"I thought if we parted ways at that point, I'd probably never see him again. So I went with him, without thinking about where it would lead."
Going back to Chapter 42 - Nightmare with this context.
Tumblr media
You can really tell how he feels like a failure.
Rereading those helped me appreciate the Caravan Extra and Arrival on the island from daydream hour better.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This poor guy failed at everything he had set out to do at this point. And when Falin says "Long time no see, big brother!" she really means it, she hasnt seen a well groomed Laios in almost 10 years.
2K notes · View notes
hemmingsleclerc · 2 months
Text
My Husband ┃CS55
summary: Y/N attends her husband's home race but didn't expect to find the "popular" girl at her high school back in the day.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The sun was seen over the Barcelona-Catalunya Circuit while the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place. Y/N, dressed in an elegant yet casual dress that perfectly combined glamor and comfort, strolled through the paddock with an air of confidence. Her husband, Carlos, was focused on preparations for the next race, leaving her free to immerse herself in the exciting atmosphere.
As she toured the different garages and hospitality areas, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia. The roar of the engines brought back memories of her teenager's years when she would never have imagined being there in the paddock. Yet here she was, the wife of one of the sport's most talented drivers.
The familiar murmur of voices interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see a group of people approaching her. Among them was a face from her past: a girl named Carla, who was once the queen bee of her high school. Carla's eyes widened in false surprise when she saw Y/N there.
"Well, well, if it's not little Y/N," Carla sneered, her tone full of mockery. "What brings you to the Spanish Grand Prix? Trying to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous?"
Y/N smiled, refusing to let Carla's comments get to her. "Oh, you know, I've always been an F1 fan. I thought I'd come and support my husband."
''Husband?, so after all you did get a boyfriend?, what a wonderful surprise!''
''Yes, yes I did Carla'' Y/N responded, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes.
Carla smiled and looked at her boyfriend, who was next to her. "Well, we're here because my boyfriend is a big fan. You probably know him, he was with us at school! In fact, today he met all the drivers. It's a dream come true for him."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar pattern of Carla trying to outdo her in any situation. "That's fantastic for him. I'm sure meeting the drivers was an unforgettable experience."
''So, is this your first race?''
''In fact no, I have attended several grand prix, although it's probably your first time, so enjoy it Carla!'' And just as she finished saying those words she turned around and walked away from that irritating situation.
The race came to life and Y/N continued to enjoy the event, doing her best to ignore the presence of her ''wonderful'' former high school classmates.
As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, Y/N once again found herself in the path of Carla and her boyfriend.
"Well, well, look who it is," Carla said with a forced smile. "Did you have fun watching the race, sweetie?"
Y/N sighed inwardly but maintained her composure. "Yes, it was thrilling. Excuse me, I need to find Carlos."
As she tried to walk away, Carla's boyfriend, Y/N's old crush from high school, stepped forward, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Y/N felt a wave of discomfort but remained polite. All she wanted to do was go to her husband and congratulate him on his incredible podium finish in the race.
Suddenly, the crowd around them buzzed with excitement as Carlos Sainz approached, his red racing suit adorned with sponsor logos. Carla and her boyfriend exchanged surprised glances.
"Carlos Sainz!" Carla exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Y/N couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Oh, I didn't mention it before? He's Carlos, my husband, sweetie."
Carlos, oblivious to the tension, politely greeted Carla and her boyfriend. When they noticed, Carla's forced smile faltered and Y/N took the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. She walked away from her, leaving behind a speechless Carla and a bewildered old lover.
''Thank God you showed up, I couldn't stand them for another minute''
''You okey mi amor?''
''I'll be better after the celebration for your great podium, cariño''
With their heads held high, Y/N and Carlos walked out holding hands, along with the shiny trophy, ready to have a great night.
3K notes · View notes
merchantziro · 7 months
Text
DP x DC Writing Prompt: Watchtower Technician/Engineer Danny Fenton and Justice League member Dani Phantom
It's been a few years now since Danny Fenton had become the Ghost King. Since then, he's been working hard to maintain peaceful relations with the Living Realm and had found a system to keep his rouge's gallery from being too destructive while still satisfying their obsessions and such.
After that, he decided to semi-officially retire as a hero since he didn't need to protect Amity from his subjects anymore. Choosing to focus on balancing his human life and career, and his duties as the ruler of entire dimension of spirits.
While Danny knew he could never be an astronaut with his "condition", he was able to find a substitute that also managed to satisfy his protection obsession without needing to become a hero again.
Danny Fenton had chosen become an engineer/technician on the Justice League's Watchtower. Which, after a lengthy background check to make sure he wasn't joining as a cover for anything malicious, was ultimately given the green light since Zeta Tube transport was deemed much safer for his "condition".
Meanwhile, the Justice League had finally found a recruit they were interested in for the past few years now since information about him spread to the hero and supernatural communities. Namely, one 14 year old looking ghost named Danny Phantom. However when they did manage to finally track him down, they instead found what looked to be a now 14 year old ghost looking girl calling herself Dani Phantom who looked to be a match for their information on Phantom.
So cue the League coming to the (completely incorrect) conclusion that this must be the hero they're looking for (though he seemed to have become a she, so congrats to her) and don't say anything.
Basically shenanigans with retired Danny Fenton working on the watchtower in peace while Dani Phantom joins the Justice League after they mistake her for a transgender Danny Phantom.
I'm imagining this going in one of several different routes with some potential overlap.
- Both recognize a ghost is nearby (each other) but the League, upon realizing that Danny Fenton comes from a family of Ghost Hunters that span back to 1600s with Jack Fentonightingale, thus assuming it's best to keep Danny oblivious to Dani's existence but they can't keep each other oblivious forever.
- The Watchtower is under attack by some villains and Danny finds a heavily injured Dani among other heroes. As such Danny becomes angered enough to temporarily bring his old hero persona out of the closet (possibly going as far as showing his Ghost King power depending on the villain). Meanwhile the rest of the Justice League are losing their minds over the revelation of them working with the hero's cousin/daughter/clone instead of the original they thought they were working with this entire time.
- One of the supernaturally powerful JL members (John Constantine, Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Shazam, take your pick) recognize that the new employee radiates the same ghostly power as Dani, only stronger before recognizing him as the Ghost King.
- Dani and Danny meet and have their Spider-Man pointing meme moment before nigh-immediately realizing that the League have mistaken Dani for Danny. Thus they immediately realize after that realization they can use this to completely mess with them since they're still unaware.
Probably more ideas but I'll leave that for you to imagine.
I've seen Danny working on the watchtower, both as Fenton for a casual position and as Phantom as a League member. So why not both at the same time only it's Dani Phantom and not Danny.
2K notes · View notes
triflesandparsnips · 6 months
Text
So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--
Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).
BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:
Wednesday (before the end of the world)
So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.
But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.
The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.
SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.
But like-- still not friends. Not really.
Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:
Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock. The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork. Aziraphale blinked. A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden. Aziraphale looked embarrassed. Then a cream cake hit him in the face.
My teenage brain exploded at this moment.
BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.
Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).
Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.
But Crowley was looking the other way.
Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.
But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".
And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:
With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.
SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--
It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.
Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.
...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.
1K notes · View notes
ro5ani · 19 days
Text
Some thoughts I've been having since round 6 but it's mostly me ranting about Ivan
So first of all, this whole thing where Till goes looking for Mizi's flower crown and they get attacked by the alien, it was all staged by Ivan. He was waiting for Till outside of the entrance and followed him as he went there
Tumblr media Tumblr media
He didn't do anything to help them get away he was just watching how things played out, his goal was to get Till locked up so he could free him when no one was watching and they could escape (it would also show him as a savior thus making Till like him more)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You can see marks in the wall while he watches, my boy was stressed (maybe even worried that something would go terribly wrong). And before this scene, he is shown hugging the alien and there's an official art of him inside the aliens mouth (not sure what that means maybe that was the way of convincing it, it's known Ivan always does whatever the aliens want so he can use that later to his favor) ANYWAYS there are no scenes where he intervenes, so I'm pretty sure he planned the whole thing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
WHAT I'M TRYING TO GET AT IS, the meteor shower scene when they escaped.
If Ivan staged the whole thing he must've picked a specific day and time, so them escaping while there was a meteor shower is not a coincidence. Ivan did everything he could to convince Till, in the best way he could come up with.
Just like Till, Ivan suffered a lot of abuse even though it's not shown as much. At the beginning of round 3 we can see an alien threatening to throw him from the top of a building. He was scared and crying yet he saw, what probably was the most beautiful thing in his whole life, a meteor shower.
Tumblr media
There's a lot of focus on Ivan's eyes throughout the series, he's very observant and it's also a way to emphasize how he is always looking at Till. But before he actually met Till, the meteor shower was the thing that caught his attention, and you can tell by the way his eyes fill with meteors when he looks at Till. Till to him is as shiny and sparkling as a meteor shower.
Tumblr media
Ivan might be smart and very observant and mature for his age, but he's still a kid! He not only tried to save Till he also tried to impress him so they could get closer. So what did he do, like a kid showing off his toys to make an impression, he showed Till the most beautiful and impressive thing he knew.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And Till was impressed! But it was not enough, so it happened what happened.
The point of this whole thing is that I've seen a lot of people say Ivan's only way of catching Till's attention is by bothering/being mean to him, and while he did that a lot, he also risked his life and staged this whole thing so Till could be happy.
And even after that didn't work out, he kept looking out for Till in the only way he knew or was able to.
So my boy Ivan is not just a bully give him some credit😭 He could've been a little more honest but u don't expect the aliens to teach them proper communication.
SO THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO GET OUT OF MY SYSTEM
If u read all of this thank you 😭 and feel free to share thoughts too!
And excuse any weird wording, i literally never write long stuff
657 notes · View notes
toxicanonymity · 1 year
Note
Best friends dad Joel x innocent reader
Reader is sleeping over at her best friends house. Best friend ditches her for a party/bf which leaves her alone with Joel. Joel makes fun of her innocence and pressures her into drinking/having sex with him
Night Talks
2.8k words / best friend's dad!Joel x innocent!f!reader
NSFW 18+ / joel master list
Tumblr media
gif from @serenaxpedroo , ask from @subby-bottom
WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ big girthy legal age gap, it's 2008 so 41-19 lmao, first time marijuana use, light drinking, pressure, dubious consent, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, depraved praise. reader can sit in joel's lap. haphazard editing.
-
"I know your parents are strict as hell, but you’re an adult." 
You feel uncool enough without Mr. Miller acting like you're such a square.  He takes “Cool Dad”  to the extreme.  Yeah, you're an adult, but you don't really party and you didn't feel like going. Yeah, your parents are strict. That's why you regret going to a commuter college. It's also why you didn't go home when Sarah left.  You didn't realize her hot dad was awake when you came down in your skimpy pajamas to get a drink of water.  Now your eyes are drifting to his biceps as you have this weird talk in the kitchen. But if you're looking at his biceps, at least you're not looking at his PJ pants. 
You feel defensive even though everything he's saying is true.  "I just don't like to party," you say. "Plus, they smoke weed."
He squints at you judgmentally.  "So? . . . What, you’ve never tried it?" 
You're not sure how to respond to that.  Mr. Miller is older and hot.  His judgment carries a lot of weight because of it.  You've seen him after a construction job before, sweating, arms bulging.  
"Damn, you're brainwashed as hell. . . ." He looks like he feels sorry for you.  "C'mon, let's have a beer. I've at least seen you with one of those before." It's flattering that he would notice, even though you probably didn’t finish it.
"I should probably go home"
He rolls his eyes and tilts his head as though to say "really?” Then he gets two beers out of the fridge and starts to open them.  “Let’s skip to the part where you take a sip and relax."
"Mr. Mill-"
"Oh. . ." he waves his hand dismissively. "Mr. Miller sounds creepy.  You can just call me daddy."  Your heart jumps to your throat.  Mr. Miller is creepy. 
Then he laughs. "Damn, the look on your face.  Nah, call me Joel.  Look," he hands you a Coors Light.  “Practically water."
You accept the beer. He takes a sip of his IPA, then teases, "We can watch somethin’ pg-13 if ya want.”
-
You watch Saturday Night Fever on DVD.  You think it's just gonna be dancing, but it's far saucier. He glances at you, watching your reaction to the most intense scenes.  You're embarrassed but try to ignore him.  After Joel goes to get a second beer, you’re startled when he sits down next to you on the sofa instead of back in the recliner where he was.  Your skittishness must show.  
“Relax,” he says and squeezes your knee.  His demeanor has changed. He has a whole different voice.    “I don’t bite. . .‘less you’re into it.  Can’t imagine a good girl like you though . . . Fuckin’ Miss America over here.”
Your cheeks burn.  “I’m not that good,” you protest. You're not sure why. 
“Yeah? Prove it,” he says and begins lightly stroking circles around your knee.  The challenge quickens your heart rate and sends a rush of blood to your loins before he continues, “let’s get high.” 
You're unsure if you're relieved or disappointed that's what he meant.  You resist, but he offers, “you don’t even have to smoke it.”
“What, brownies?”
“No, baby.”  The pet name makes you tingle. He reaches into the end table drawer and retrieves a small glass pipe and a lighter.  
“C’mere, I'll show ya.”  His free hand grabs yours and he leads you to the tiny bathroom.  You can't help but notice the way his soft pants hug his ass.  
-
He shuts the door behind you, then closes the toilet lid and sits down while you awkwardly stand there with your arms crossed.  You lean against the 6” of available wall space.  It’s a very, very small bathroom.   
His biceps stretch his t-shirt as he holds the pipe to his mouth and flicks the lighter on.  He moves the lighter around the weed in small circles and the glow spreads as he sucks the air through the pipe.  He closes his eyes and a sensual expression loads on his face as he inhales.  It’s a face of pleasure. His brow furrows and his eyes open.  He slowly exhales, politely pouting and pointing his lips away from you, but keeping his eyes in your direction,  shamelessly scanning your body. 
As the stench of the weed creeps into your nostrils, you reflexively reach for the exhaust fan switch on the wall and he says, “Nope. Can’t hotbox with the fan on.  That’s the whole point."
-
When the second-hand smoke starts to hit you, you feel a little woozy.  Good, but woozy.  You start to sit on the counter and he stops you.  “Sink’s not braced yet.”  
He pats his lap.  There’s nowhere else to sit unless you leave the bathroom, and you don’t want to.  So you sit on Mr. Miller's lap.  His pants are soft and his legs are warm.  You’re hesitant to put all your weight on him until he says, “Relax, I can handle it,” and he does have meaty thighs.  He strokes your bare thigh, making you wet and self conscious that you hadn’t shaved in a week.  
He looks around at the smoke in the bathroom.  “How’s it feel?” 
“Um, good,” you say.  He looks back and forth between your eyes and smiles.  
"Good, good. . ." 
You look at each other for what feels like a few minutes, playing chicken about who will finally talk next.  Then he asks, "ready for the next step?”
“Nah. . . I don't wanna smoke.”
“Don’t have to.  Just breathe out when I squeeze once."  He squeezes your thigh once to demonstrate.  "And breathe in when I squeeze twice."  He demonstrates again.  "And keep your mouth open."
You don't say anything, trying to envision what he's going to do. 
"You’re gonna love it.”
“Okay,” you say.  Why not? You’re feeling pretty relaxed. 
“Gotta face me though,” he says.  He nudges you to stand up, then he urges you back into his lap, but straddling him.  
You hesitate and resist a little. 
“Only live once baby”
-
You go ahead and straddle him, but you're very aware of how short, loose, and flowy your shorts are. You can feel the air between your legs. He takes a deep, horny breath as you settle in and his eyes darken.  
"God, you're hot," he mutters.  That's the moment you're certain he wants to fuck you.  You shyly look down and away.  
"I'm serious," he says.  
Then he spares you the need to respond, leaning back to make room between you for his muscular arms before he brings the pipe to his mouth.  He sucks in and holds the air in his mouth then turns and puts the pipe on the back of the toilet behind him.  When he faces you again, his large hands slide up both your thighs.  His chest expands as he inhales the smoke in his mouth, then he holds it in and squeezes your thighs once.  
You breathe out. He leans in, cradles your head  with one hand and opens his mouth, not exhaling yet, smoke curling between his lips, then squeezes your thigh twice.  As you begin to inhale, he blows the smoke right into your mouth. And he keeps his face close to yours as he watches you turn your head and exhale. 
“Attagirl,” he says and your heart flutters. 
Every part of you wants to kiss him right now, and it looks like he wants that, too.  He leans in a little.  
But the smoke burns, and you turn your head and cough. Joel pats then rubs your back.  "Damn, I shoulda gone slower."   When you stop coughing, your watery eyes meet his, and he cracks a smirk.  You're super high and very wet. He looks entranced by you. 
"Guess you're right," he murmurs.
"Hmm?"
"You're not that good a girl. . ." You feel conflicted hearing these words, until his hands return to your legs and he says, "Only one thing I like more than a bad girl." His hands slide all the way up your thighs and his eyes follow his hand.   His thumb easily nudges its way inside the inseam of your shorts - it happens so fast - and before you know it he lightly strokes the apex of your folds.  Your hips tilt into his touch and he strokes lower, feeling how wet you are.  With his other thumb he pulls the shorts to the side to see your pussy.  He inhales deeply through the nose, looking you in the eyes.  "Only thing better than a bad girl?  A good girl gone bad." 
His hands find your ass and pull you into his crotch where the stiffness of his warm length takes your breath away, and you softly gasp. 
“Yeahhh,” he says.  “You like that?”  
Yeah, you do, and he clearly knows you do.  But you’re super high and too embarrassed to say it.  
“Bet you're a virgin, too.”  
“I-"
“You don’t have to say it,” he whispers, to your relief.  Then he leans forward and his facial hair brushes your cheek as he brings his mouth to your ear and says, "Cause I know you don't wanna be." 
He leans back, pulling you into him harder and his arousal swells into you, making your walls twitch and your clit throb.
He wets his lips then wraps one arm around you and cradles your head with the other hand.  His lips press into yours and a wave of arousal ripples through your body.  Your nipples harden.  His tongue brushes yours and he grinds into you with a soft grunt into your mouth. You've never been more turned on. 
Your lips tear away from his as you literally swoon. He easily catches you as you slump to the side. 
"Whooaa, okay."  He holds you in one arm and reaches to open the door.  "Let's get you some fresh air."
-
He puts a hoodie of his on you and you go outside for a few minutes.  You're embarrassed.
"Sorry," you say, unsure what you're sorry for. 
"No, no, don't be sorry baby.  That was all me." He puts his arms loosely around you and you rest your head on him.  "Couldn't think straight cause you're so goddamn hot." 
You smile shyly into his shirt.  "I think I'm okay now."
"Good." He strokes the crown of your head with his whole palm. 
You ask, "Think Sarah will be back soon?"
"Doubt it.  Usually sneaks back in around dawn. Wanna watch another movie?"
"Um, sure."
"We can do whatever we want." 
-
It’s not long into the movie before things heat up again.  You’re at the end of the sofa and he has his arm around you.  He caresses you with that hand, starting with your arm, then your shoulder, then your collar bone.  Out of the corner of your eye, he adjusts himself.  “Lord almighty,” he says under his breath.  
“Why dontcha bring those pretty legs up here?”
“I haven’t shaved in-”
“Think I care?"  he urges your legs into his lap, pulls them all the way into his crotch, and presses them down on his solid wood with a soft grunt.  Your eyes go wide and you take a deep breath.  He stops pretending to watch the movie and eases your legs down flat on the sofa, scooting himself out from under them, getting on his side. 
"C'mere," he growls. He watches his fingers trail up your leg all the way to your breast as he lays down facing you, slightly on top of you.  His gaze remains fixed there as he slides his hand up your thin pajama shirt and palms a breast.  Your mouth falls open and he grinds his hard package against your hip.  Then he lifts your top up to see both your tits. "God damn," he says.  
He slides his hand into your shorts, brings his face to yours, and starts kissing you again, hard and slow, his tongue claiming your mouth, your lips softly accepting every movement of his while he gropes your dripping seam desperately and moans into your mouth.  His movements intensify, becoming more urgent as he gets between your legs.  Sweat is blotching his shirt.  He slides an arm under yours and a whiff of his armpit opens your legs. 
“Fuck yeah,” he breathes as your hips tilt for him.  He urgently tugs down your shorts, breathing heavily.  He expertly fingers you, making your toes curl.  He inserts one, then two thick digits.  Three is a stretch but not too bad.  “perfect,” he murmurs.  He fingers you for a minute, both of you getting hornier. 
-
Then he frees himself from his waistband and his thick arousal falls heavily against your slickened clit, sending a bolt of need to your chest. He drags it down and nestles his tip at your entrance, then his large hand lifts your thigh and you wrap your leg around him. He looks up at your face, reads your eyes and says in a low rumble, "yeah, you're ready for it. . . couldn't be more ready, could ya?" Maybe he’s right.  Maybe. 
He grunts as he begins to push into your tight, wet hole and you gasp at the stretch of his tip.  "C'mon now, you can do it baby."  He inhales deeply, then pushes further.  "Yeahh." It hurts, but the pain is nothing compared to the incredible feeling of being filled. He's pretty slow and gentle, but never asks if you're okay.  He pushes harder until about half his shaft is sheathed by your warmth.  "Perfect fuckin' pussy" he breathes. "Tight as hell. Wet 'n ready for this cock."
"C'mon, baby."  He retreats halfway before plunging to the hilt, parting your insides and bottoming out with a shudder.  There's an unfamiliar, primal look on his face that stirs something deep inside you.  He stays there, all the way inside for a moment as though trying not to come instantly at the feeling of you wrapped around him.  He pulls back again, all but the tip, then pushes forward, a little smoother but still a squeeze.  He does it again and groans "Yeeahh," he bottoms out.  His face makes him look like he's in pain.  
-
He lowers his chest over yours and the way he looks at you makes you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.  He slowly backs out and fills you up again, saying "Good, that's it baby" as you tilt your hips.  He kisses you and his cock slowly recedes then pushes in again.  Your ample slick allows him to slowly pump in and out of you even with you being so tight.  
He kisses you aggressively, then plants his lips on your neck as he buries his length in you again and again.
Slower, then at a moderate pace. He kisses you.  He looks at you. "Hot as hell, baby." He gropes a breast.  Then his lips graze your throat as he fucks you. 
You’re looking over his shoulder with his face in your neck.  Never imagined this would happen tonight.  Or here, or with him, but he feels incredible.     He fills you up harder, then a little faster.  The way his back stretches his tight t-shirt is a vision.
“God damn." Your whole body is rocking with this power of his cock slamming into you.  "You’re a natural, baby." He thrusts hard with a grunt.  "Already takin’ my cock this good?” He brings his filthy mouth back to yours and keeps filling you with his thick cock. "Ohh yeah. . . " His breathing changes.  "wanna come in this tight pussy so fuckin bad" 
"You can't, I don't-"
It looks like it kills him. He mutters, "fuck," holds his breath,  then pulls out, "Ahhh," he releases the breath with a loud sigh and spills his cum on your bare stomach.  His anguished face, his cock in his hand, his cum shooting out onto your stomach, it’s the hottest scene.  You feel it searing into your mind.  
-
He tucks himself away, lies down at your side again, and starts fingering you, circling your clit.  “Look even hotter with my cum all over ya.” He’s making you feel things you thought only a toy could do, not even your own hand.   “C’mon, baby, come for me.”  It doesn’t take long before your back arches and you’re seeing stars, jolting into his big, veiny hand, his dark eyes watching you in a trance.  
As your orgasm fades, a smirk spreads across his face.  “Damn, didn’t think it’d be that easy.” 
The blood drains from your face. 
“No, no, makin’ you come, baby.  Makin’ you come.”
He cups your face reassuringly.  “You’re real damn hot, you know that? Fuck.”
-
Thank you so much for reading and interacting 🖤
This Joel evolves into the menace that is night walks!Joel.
I have a NEW dads' best friend!Joel x virgin!Reader series Left in Lincoln.
Night Walks : @tehweeana @blackvelveteen1339 @cutesyscreenname @ele-meno-p
All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda
please lmk if i missed you!
3K notes · View notes