#Pretty please pretty please leave criticism

[threestargirls]

Within a split second, a deafening crack rippled throughout the forest as Jacob’s fist met Edward’s marble-like skin. I’m sure a scream escaped me as a strong arm pushed me off to the side- I couldn’t have been sure whether I made a noise, or even whose arm it was given my state of shock. Or fear? The stage directions from Romeo and Juliet kept repeating in my head. They fight; Paris falls.

All I managed to catch a glimpse of in the second that I was pushed back was Jacob’s furious face, his entire body practically convulsing, his knuckles bloody as he raised his fist again. I saw Edward’s face, his beautiful porcelain skin appearing cracked and his golden eyes dark with anger somehow even more intense than Jacob’s.

Edward’s arm raised to knock Jacob backwards, everything happening so quickly all I saw was the glimpse of russet brown fur and the shine of diamond skin disappearing out of the clearing and into the depths of the forest, as I was left by both Paris and Romeo, hyperventilating in my meadow with my hands shaking and twisted in my hair.

[as a birthday tribute to jacob black, here’s a snippet of him punching edward told through bella’s point of view. didn’t feel like writing a whole story so you get whatever this is.]

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

No small part of Legends seems determined to make the Jedi look bad and the Sith look good. Considering the Sith are inspired by nazis and fascists, it's both funny and deeply concerning.

But I digress.

One of these attempts is the character Darth Vectivus, a human male Dark Lord of the Sith during the time of the Galactic Republic, when the Sith are in hiding. Apparently, he's a man with friends, with a family he loves and who love him back, a regular job… He's a perfectly normal guy, a perfectly mundane dude among thousands of megalomaniacs.

His first appeareance is as a ghost (some funky Dark Side thingy he created, btw), when he's trying to convince a Jedi (don't remember this one, I think it was a girl?) to strike him down. This is because these ghosts are connected to a living being, if the ghost is striken down, the being they're connected to dies. Vectivus is connected to Jacen Solo, who's on the edge of falling to the Dark Side. Apparently, Vectivus does not want a galaxy ruled by the kind of Sith Jacen Solo (or rather Darth Caedus) would become.

But, unlike other attempts at making the Sith look good in the EU, I actually like this guy. Why? Mostly for the funnies, not gonna lie. This Dark Lord of the Sith, the ultimate villain of the SW universe… is a perfectly normal guy with the same problems in his life as the rest of us.

Vectivus didn't know he was Force sensitive until his adulthood when, while doing Business™️, he and his employees came across a Dark Force nexus inside one of the mines they were working in. Fascinated by the power he could feel, he disolved his business, gave compensation to his employees, and went to search for the surviving Sith who could teach him. However, despite his Sith training, he remains a perfectly normal guy who lives a perfectly mundane life until his death, when he dies surrounded by friends and family. It's hilarious, can you imagine his Master's face? The sheer dissapointment?

He has restrain and moral standards. For example, he seems to be a decent boss and doesn't exploit his employees, cares for his friends and family and, just by guessing, isn't a complete asshole to his Apprentice since, whoever they are, they opt not to kill him despite the existance of the Rule of Two.

And yet… we find out he's still economically predatory, he still abuses his powers to harm and profit over rivals, and generally win at business. He isn't causing harm to those close to him, but he's still harnessing the Dark Side to hurt others.

That's the whole point, the Dark Side is always corruptive. Darth Vectivus is just less corrupted than most Sith.

That's it, that's what I like the most about the guy. He seems normal, is normal in a way… and yet he's still an evil bastard, only the regular evil bastard we find in our daily lives instead of the murderous crazy no-sense-of-restrain kind of Evil Bastard™️ we're used to see in a Sith.

It's… a bit of a grim reminder that evil is everywhere, in everyone, including you, and it can take many forms. That even the most kind-seeming people can be evil.

On the other side, the people he's murdered are… zero. Nonexistant, zero, nada. He's killed absolutely nobody. It's actually pretty funny. He's the only non-murderous Sith in existance, literally the only sane man in an Order of fascist megalomaniacs and it's hilarious.

I'm rather glad for his existance, actually, thanks Legends. Mostly because now I can say that I've killed as many people as a Dark Lord of the Sith.

[smile-files]

why do i keep seeing hazbin hotel on my dash. shoo

[secondpersonpoetry]

hi! heard the released “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call” (which i’ve seen you’ve heard live, if i’m not mistaken!!) this morning and i don’t know if there’s really a particular vibe/dynamic/ship hrpf-wise (personally haven’t yet been able to put my finger on it) that quite relates but the lyrics have been rotating in my head all day and i was wondering if you had any thoughts? hope you have a good one! <3

OH ANON HAVE I EVER SEEN IT LIVE!!! and the second that song came out i zoomed it straight into my fic playlist and unfortunately there are so many guys this could be. right now the one that's resonating is, of course, the golden boy and his haunted ghost themselves: mcstrome.

i am thinking about connor, specifically, after the stanley cup final. that game seven. how angry he was, how loud the silence when they told him he won the conn smythe. how close he's come before and again and again lost. there's nobody else to blame but himself. he's in the empty room and he knows why (1)

at!! your best!!! you were magic!!! oh, golden boy. connor the anointed, of course. at the very beginning of his career we always knew he was something special and who wouldn't have fallen in love with him? weren't all of us a little bit dylan strome in awe of the generational talent? we were all bathed in radiant light just by being in the vicinity (2)

don't even tell 'em that you know me breaks my heart (3). in terms of building a narrative i think i've said before there is a universe where connor/dylan were together before the draft and to protect both of them, dylan breaks up with him. connor says i love you and dylan says i don't. because he doesn't, you know? he loved connor. he loved davo. he can't be in love with connor mcdavid, first overall pick of the edmonton oilers. i'd rather be hurt forever than have to watch us try to make this work and destroy us.

and after connor mcdavid left the otters, dylan strome captained them to a memorial cup win. what a haunted home, eh? to be captain of the team you and your best friend were on, only now he's left you? don't call me to tell me about your rookie season with the oilers--we both know about your broken collarbone. don't call me to tell about becoming the youngest captain in franchise history when i stepped into the shoes of your captaincy here. don't call me. (4)

narratively: dylan's the one who broke connor's heart and his own but by god it wasn't easy. we both know what happened, you went first overall. please don't make this harder on me. please don't call.

this verse can be about the weight of dylan having to live up to connor's standards and always being measured by him. i would just like to bring up the connor stepping stone chart for absolutely no reason as well (5)

we are, at long last, at the potential future of now: dylan strome, happy, smiling, thriving on the washington capitals. connor, on the oilers. i'm not yours, dylan can say. haven't been for a long time. it took some time but i made this. please don't call and ruin this for me, stay out of my life. i don't want you or need you (6)

[p.s. this took a while because when i received this ask i was a) immediately possessed to write this verse by verse breakdown i had never thought of before and then b) immediately plagued by the idea of making you a little graphic (above the read more) and finally got to do it after banging out all the actual lyric thoughts two (?) weeks ago. emerging two and a half hours later from the fugue state of GIMP with 37 layers in this bad boy hope you enjoy!!!]

[maiaska]

“i can’t stop looking at her t-t-t..face”

NASTY DOG!ELLIE x MEAN!POPULAR!READER

Synopsis: you were a popular girl in school, pretty and mean, the whole package of course and ellie? yeah she was head over heels for you.

Authors note: hey guyssss lol, this is my first fic ever but i hope it was okay, feel free to give me critic, (my first language isn’t english so there might be mistakes)

OCTOBER

yeah okay, ellie was nasty…there was no denying it and she knew that very well.

she wasn’t nasty in the form of hygiene and basic human decency but it was more in the desire department. she wanted nothing more than to get her face shoved into a pussy and do everything and anything to please you.

Even her friends took notice, it wasn’t unusual for her best friend dina to call her out numerous times a day, “jesus ellie, quit ogling over her” to which ellie would throw her hands in the air and look at her best friend with an annoyed and pouty look, “im not ogling, she’s just in my eyesight…s’not my fault”. Ellie knew she was totally drooling at the sight of you, her eyes never leaving your beautiful face, and your tempting body…you were just so perfect, so blissfully perfect it even annoyed her a little because the chance of you ever looking in her way, it was laughable, no way in hell could you like her.

Ellie wasn’t unpopular, in fact she had many friends and a great social life, that didn’t exclude the fact that she was hardcore loser but people didn’t really notice that…except you and your friends of course.

It was like you were cut out from a 2000s lame repeating teenage movie, so pretty, so poetic yet so fucking mean.

you were considered one of the prettiest girl in the school, nobody admitted it out loud but everyone knew the power you held along with that. you had many admires, many “suitors”…literally. you were a part of the ever lasting “popular clique”. you and your friends were a higher power in the school, you were of status, of value, of position, or at least that’s what your friendgroup had convinced themselves of.. it didn’t matter though, you and your friends made sure people knew you were better than them.

oh and your favorite thing? making people feel useless, making them squirm under the gaze of your piercing and almost stinging eyes.

ellie hated that.

just like any other kid who hadn’t been brainwashed yet, of course she hated it, getting made fun of or treated like a dog is never pleasant, but the weird thing? she never really did despise you for that. there was something about you that made you so intriguing no matter how much of a bitch you were to others.

in your eyes, you weren’t mean. at least not like your friends who buillied kids for merely looking in their way, and shit talked people while they were present, to make them feel weak. no, you weren’t like that, in fact you could be really sweet and kind, but sometimes the sass and attitude just over-shined that unfortunately..but to ellie’s sake? it made you even more fucking hot, even though you constantly stepped on her. Like a snake with venom, you and your friends would walk past ellie and her friends in the hallway, you would look at her with this nasty look on your face, a complete grimace of utter disbelief and disgust and then you’d scoff, in ellies eyes? you had looked at her, acknowledged her, given her a bit of your attention…and it only made her want to be your lap dog, but unfortunately that’s all the attention ellie had ever gotten from you…mean stares.

dina and her boyfriend jesse would notice the way ellie’s eyes lighted up slightly when you grimaced at her, they both scoffed to them selves, knowing what a complete fool their friend was.

at night after a boring school day, ellie would lie in her bed with her phone dangling from her cold and calloused hand, her eyes focused on the sight of you- from a picture she found on your instagram, your graciously perfect curves and thighs, your eyes that looked like the universe, your glistening skin…oh, ellie was in a dangerous trance. Her other hand working on her puffy pink pussy that so desperately needed to get touched. pumping in and out with her slender fingers, ellie let out soft whimpers and noises, imagining that you were the one who made her feel like this, your rough but gentle fingers making her squirm and moan while you had that powerful smirk on your face, the one you always have when talking to someone below you, a stark contrast to the innocenct smiles you’d offer the teachers and those stupid boys who shamelessly flirted with you, their eyes only focusing on your round curvy tits…that made her furious, she knew she wasn’t exceptionally better than them but she was far more discreet and the difference between her and those men? she wanted to do everything you told her to…meanwhile they just wanted to use her body- in ellie’s eyes you were a goddess, in theirs? another fuckable girl to boost their ego.

She’d imagine you riding her dick and screaming out her name, bouncing up and down on the silicone as you bit your lip, making you feel so fucking good and carefree, while still knowing she’d never be in the position to fuck you, to dominate you, no no no…she’d be too pathetic for that, instead she’d be grinding on your ass, humping her skin on yours as you degrade her with your venomous words, pathetic dog, you wanna fuck me? then earn it..

you would make a fool out of her, make her feel useless just like you did to poor students on a normal school day.…but with ellie? your cruel taunting words wouldnt work on her, she’d only want more of you.

this was all in her imagination anyway but it wouldn’t stop her from cumming into her black boxers for the third time this night, now filled with her juices, only because of you and the irritating grip you had on her mind.

she’d lay back on her bed after her high, tired and touch deprived as her own fingers were never enough, she should feel ashamed, and she sometimes did but truth be told…ellie did not regret it at all, she knew she was nasty, nasty for imagining you, nasty for making you her sex fantasy, nasty for not giving a fuck. but she couldn’t stop herself.

₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊🍁 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

OCTOBER 28TH

i’m the highlights of october, everyone’s favorite month, a party had been planned like usual from one of the notorious party hosts, everyone was invited, which could only mean one thing...chaos.

After having brainstormed with dina and jesse for about a week, ellie had finally managed to figure out what her costume would be, it would be as simple as a wolf...a quick memory of her and old best friend trying on halloween masks, giggles and shitty puns running through her mind with a smile on her face, yeah- this was perfect.

ironically enough you had choosen to dress up as a cat, with ears, a painted nose and long nails that could snatch any guy or girl you had your eye on whether they wanted you or not, you’d have the power to get them anyways. a fierce kitty cat fitted you perfectly, it was a costume made for you.

Inside the enormous house, music was blasting and pounding, lights flickering all the colors, the smell of alcohol and sweat evidently stuck out. A glance around at all the people in costumes, it was almost the same atmosphere like there would be in a masquerade ball, it was the thrilling idea of putting on a mask for the night, and letting yourself let lose,

this wasn’t a normal party no, this was a chance to be/do/act any way you’d like, and many people had realized that, including ellie. The auburn haired girl had been wanting to talk with you for such a long time but she never had the guts to actually do it, in classes she would always imagine you dropping your pen, then she’d reach out and pick it up for you to take, hands brushing, fate happening, but of course something like that never actually did make it out of her mind.

Her mind had been running wild the day before the party, hell even the week before, the possibility of her longing desires becoming real?…she couldn’t contain herself, the thought of having a chance to talk to you, without the social structures and thick line between popular and not, it was exciting.

Ellie and her friends were sipping beers and passing around a fat joint, Ellie was sitting on the couch, her fair skin filled with freckles like stars, that nobody had ever seen, as she rarely shows her body. her fur glove paws wrapped around the joint and brought it to her lips, she took a long and well deserved hit, weed filling her lungs and system. the familiar feeling was ever so soothing, ellie made a content sigh and leaned back on the couch, her eyes traveling up to the crowd of people standing around and her eyes land on you, she immediately takes notice to your outfit, heat creeping up on her cheeks, a red tint covering her face and one single thought

holy fuck.

the way your dress hugged your body was enough to send ellie into a complete spiral, or the way your face was slightly painted, with your eyes covered in black eyeshadow, making you look like you could manipulate someones mind just by a quick glance.

ellie couldnt tear her eyes away from you, it was impossible when you looked so damn good, she wanted nothing more than for you to look at her, give her attention, give her validation. she wanted nothing else but to be at your feet. Ellie was ready to bite you, like a dog running after a cat, she’d be on your tail…leaping next to you at every step you took. Her gaze secretly lands on your chest, plump tits looking like a snack for her to devour, she wanted her tongue all over you, to lick you up, to feel your honey colored, shiny ski-

“hello?? earth to ellie?” the girl was pulled out of her trance, which might have been good because ellie was suddenly feeling way too hot and lustful, yeah it was the definitely the weed's fault, or so she convinced herself as if she pinning over you yesterday. “fuck- sorry yeah, what were you saying dee?” dina punched her arm and rolled her eyes. “oh my god ellie, were you staring at her again?! you know you can’t get her- just back off already”, dina was a good friend, she and ellie had been best friends since forever, which meant dina had no shame in being blunt and direct, telling ellie the truth that she didnt want to realize. Ellie grumbles and runs a hand over her face, feeling caught, but nevertheless her gaze once again falling back on you and more so- your chest that sat so beautiful in your black dress. “ow?! wha- i know that, you don’t have to point it out..”

dina scoffed at this, as she immediately noticed her dumb friend returning her gaze to you, “jeez ellie, stop looking at her ti-“

“face!” she interrupted quickly and looked at her friend with a slight smirk, the alcohol mixed with the weed running through her veins made her feel slightly more confident. “eugh you're like a nasty dog, and not in a good way” dina rolls her eyes and takes the joint from ellies hand, ellie lets out a cackle at her choice of words, but not denying them..she was definitely a nasty dog when it came to you.

ellie's pinning hadn't flown past your head, nothing did, of course you had noticed, you notice everything..if only ellie knew that, when she was shamelessly staring at you. but enough about that, were you going to do anything about it? absolutely not, many people’s eyes landed in you, if you gave one of them attention, others would just want your attention even more.

you had the upper hand in this and you werent going to do anything…but then why did it annoy you so much that her eyes were on you? usually you didn’t care…but something about ellie made you intrigued, and you fucking hated it.

ellie didn’t know how it happened, her feet had leaped up and were suddenly moving towards you, she couldn’t stop her feet they had a mind of their own right now and it was freaking ellie out

don’t act stupid ellie, fuck you’re dressed as a wolf?! and you except her to wanna talk to you

she stopped behind you, god you were even prettier up close, no ellie stop- act normal- before she could continue her nervous rambling inside her head, you had turned around and looked at her, your eyebrows scrunched with an annoyed look on your face, shit, ellie couldn’t tell if she regretted everything in that moment or if this was worth it as she got the chance to see you up close for once.

“um hi..?, what was your name again?” you glare at her like she was just an annoying bug in your face that you desperately wanted to get rid of. but ellie didn’t care she was too focused on your face. your kitty ears fitted you so well in your smooth messy hair and your painted nose made her want to crumble on the spot. ellie couldn’t tell if she was drooling or not, she might as well have been because of your outstanding beauty, you were like nothing she had seen before. “oh-..uh..i-im ellie”

you laugh in her face, the sound sending a lightning bolt through her body. “well.. ellie, you should’ve dressed up as a stalker to make up for your behavior” you cross your arms and look at her, taking in every inch of her skin, the poor girl felt so nervous and intimidated yet turned on under your hard gaze, “my behavior? what um what do you mean?-i- wasn’t-“

ellies words get caught off as you interrupted her, not having time or energy for her boring lies “i-i-i”..don’t play dumb with me,” you mock her stuttering with a cold tone of voice, clearly trying to use one of your classic mean girl techniques, ellie convinced herself she wasn’t bothered but truth be told she felt a little irritated, she felt herself become a little hurt by your bluntness and mean words, maybe her fondness of you was exactly what it was, just a facade she could see from the distance, ellie’s thoughts stopped as you spoke your next words with a smirk on your face and an innocent voice, “shouldn’t a good puppy like you learn some manners…”

she sucked in her breath, a blush creeping up her pale cheeks. your words were evil, and so not meant in any way but evil, you were trying to make her feel intimidated and it was working…but she couldn’t help but notice the touch of lust in your eyes, or maybe she was just drunk. her body was hot, her gaze finding your face, your evil grin paired with the most innocent, precious eyes she had ever seen, her previous irritation hadn’t faded completely but her temptations were definitely ruling over it. nasty thoughts springing in her mind, too unholy to be present right now, and you knew that.

“i’m a wolf…” she mumbled quietly under her breath, in reality she wanted to respond with a drop to her knees, but that wasn’t realistic yet. “is that barking, i hear coming from you??” you mockingly put up a hand to your ear pretending to listen for barks, looking at her as if she was nothing but a unpropper dog. Your gaze stays steady, challenging her to talk back, but a glint in her eyes shows she's up for the game, and you’re ready, not backing down an inch. ellie couldn’t help her spark of confidence in her next words. “funny, coming from someone dressed like a kitten” ellie licks her lips and speaks with a small smirk, tilting her head slightly, the alcohol for sure made ellie do it, in the real world she’d never have the guts to be playful with you.

You narrowed your eyes at her, not expecting her to say that, a cackle leaves your lips and you cross your arms and study her face. “oh now look who’s getting bold, did the little dog finally learn to bite back? hm?” your expression taunting, your irritation still present but an intriguing look in your eyes had appeared, waiting to see if ellie had the guts to really challenge you or if it was just a quick moment. she couldn’t figure you out, the tension was thick between the two girls

ellie didn’t want to respond, she didnt know what to say that could satisfy your question, she’d do anything for this moment to never end.

“m...maybe i did” the auburn haired girl reponds a little unsure of herself but she hides it with a steady face, she wanted to prove herself to you, prove that she wasnt just nervous rack. “maybe? oh ellen...i’d love to see that happening from someone like you” you smile innocently, knowing full well her name wasn’t ellen but she didn’t have to know that.

“its ellie...and, i can bark” she said, raising her chin higher to prove her point, her green eyes holding your gaze. She’s on edge, unsure if she’s just woken up something she can’t handle.

“..and i can scratch” you lean closer, the distance suddenly becoming much smaller, ellie could see the tiny spots on your nose and the way your lips were neatly formed and pressed towards, your piercing eyes finding ellie’s green orbits, staring daggers into her skull, ellie could’ve sworn she saw you looking at her lips for a split second, but she wasn’t sure…

does she want me the same way i want her?- no ellie, remember what dina said.

“but you already know that, don’t you?…ellie” oh the brown haired girl knew it very well, everyone did…you scratched like a kitten, you had your claws on everyone. She was speechless for a moment before nodding compliantly and before she could let out a real response you beat her to it, with the same smirk you had on your face the entire time. “that’s what i figured, enjoy the party ellen.” you reach your hand out and pat her head, your long nails making contact with her chestnut colored hair, in the most taunting annoying way ever and then you just disappear into the crowd of people, leaving ellie standing like a flustered mess, a hopeless, pathetic, blushing mess. she had never expected her first conversation with you to be like this.

god she was down bad~

part two??

[kateschi]

chef's kiss is not enough

synopsis: a simple night out for good food changes when you meet the chef behind a dish that leaves you speechless.

pairing: chef!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the restaurant is cozy, the kind of place that doesn’t draw much attention from the outside but feels like a hidden treasure once you step inside.

soft lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden tables, and the low murmur of conversation mixes with the occasional clinking of plates.

you’re here with friends, seated at a corner table, menus spread out in front of you.

it’s the kind of night where you’re just looking forward to good food and laughter.

the waiter approaches, balancing several plates on his tray, and sets a bowl down in front of you. you thank him absentmindedly, but the moment your eyes land on your dish, you can’t help but pause.

it’s beautiful in its simplicity—steaming ramen served in a deep bowl, the broth shimmering under the restaurant’s soft light.

thin slices of pork rest delicately on the surface, alongside a soft-boiled egg, its yolk a vibrant golden color. green onions and a sheet of nori top it off, each detail deliberate and precise.

when you take the first bite, your eyes widen. the broth is rich and savory, the kind of flavor that seems to envelop your entire mouth.

the noodles are perfectly cooked, springy but not too firm, soaking up just enough of the broth.

each topping complements the next—the pork is tender, the egg creamy, the green onions adding a fresh, sharp contrast.

it’s the kind of dish that doesn’t just taste good; it feels like someone put their heart into it.

“oh my god,” you mutter, setting your chopsticks down for a moment. “this is incredible.”

your friends laugh at your reaction, one of them nudging you with their elbow. “you always get like this when the food’s good.”

“no, but this—this is different,” you insist, leaning closer to the bowl as if it holds some sort of secret. “this isn’t just good; this is like…life-changing.”

the comment earns a round of laughter, but you’re already distracted, glancing around the room for the waiter.

when you catch his eye, you raise a hand. “excuse me, who’s the chef here?”

the waiter looks surprised by the question. “our head chef is bakugou katsuki. would you like me to—”

“yes, please,” you interrupt, a little too quickly. realizing how eager you sound, you backtrack. “I mean, if he’s not too busy.”

the waiter nods and disappears toward the kitchen, leaving your friends to give you a variety of amused and curious looks.

“what?” you say defensively. “it’s not every day you eat something this good.”

a few minutes later, the kitchen door swings open, and the man who walks out is…not what you expected.

you were picturing someone older, maybe with a few gray hairs and a soft smile.

instead, this man—bakugou katsuki, apparently—is tall and broad-shouldered, his chef’s coat fitting snugly over a strong frame.

his spiky blond hair looks slightly damp, like he’s been working hard, and his expression is one of mild irritation.

he looks more like a professional athlete than a chef.

“what?” he says, his voice low and rough, as he strides up to your table. his crimson eyes sweep over the group before landing on you.

and for a moment, bakugou freezes. he didn’t know what to expect when the waiter said someone wanted to meet him—probably some pompous critic or a customer with a laundry list of complaints.

but you’re not what he expected. at all. there’s something about the way you’re looking at him, your eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and awe, that throws him completely off balance.

you’re…really pretty. too pretty, actually.

it’s annoying, how much it catches him off guard. his chest tightens, and he suddenly feels hyperaware of himself—his hands, his posture, the faint dampness of his forehead from the heat of the kitchen.

damn it.

“I, uh,” you start, faltering under his intense gaze. you weren’t expecting him to be so—well, intimidating. “I just wanted to say that the food is amazing. like, really amazing.”

for a moment, he just stares at you, his jaw tightening slightly. then he rubs the back of his neck, glancing away as if trying to compose himself. “thanks,” he mutters, his tone less gruff than before.

the way he looks away almost makes you smile.

he doesn’t seem like the type to take compliments well, and you can’t help but find it endearing. but at the same time, his presence is overwhelming, and you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“well,” he says abruptly, his eyes snapping back to yours. “if that’s it, I’ve got stuff to do.”

“right, of course,” you say quickly, nodding. “thank you again.”

he nods once, almost curtly, before turning and heading back toward the kitchen. you watch him go, your mind racing with thoughts you can’t quite organize.

the rest of the evening goes by in a blur.

you and your friends continue to chat and laugh, but your thoughts keep drifting back to bakugou. his sharp eyes, the way he looked almost flustered when you complimented him.

it’s distracting, and you can’t quite shake it.

as you’re leaving, stepping out into the cool night air, a voice calls out behind you.

“hey.”

you turn to see him standing in the doorway, still in his chef’s coat. he looks like he’s debating whether this is a good idea or not, his expression tight with something between determination and reluctance.

in his hand is a paper bag with the restaurant’s logo. “here,” he says, holding it out to you.

you blink, confused. “I didn’t order takeout.”

“it’s on me,” he says, shoving the bag toward you. his crimson eyes flick to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“oh, but—”

“just take it,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind.

you hesitate for a moment before taking the bag. your fingers brush against his, and the brief contact sends a strange warmth through your chest. “thank you,” you murmur.

he nods, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something else. but then he just steps back inside, the door closing behind him.

when you get home, you open the bag to find a perfectly packaged serving of the ramen you raved about earlier. sitting on top is a small note, written in slightly messy handwriting:

xxx-xxx-xxxx the name’s katsuki. text me.

a smile creeps onto your face, and you find yourself thinking that maybe, just maybe, you will.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[aphrodeiities]

ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇꜱ

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and i wanted to be kind and leave three mores spot for someone for a chart reading, £30 for any type of chart reading.

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♇ what is a ruler in astrology?

♇ a ruler in astrology is a planetary ruler, a planet that rules over the sign that takes over a house, for example, someone with capricorn in their second house, will have saturn as their second house ruler.

♇ my second house is ruled by saturn, and saturn is placed in my seventh house in astrology.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 1H ⟶ self value means a lot to them. distinct/nice voice can become famous for that. family-oriented or known as the most selfish family member. beauty and money oriented. very stubborn but beautiful, can imply that romance and communication is important to native.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 2H ⟶ can be self-centred, being someone who is vocal. can be someone who is frugal as well. might like to sing, cook and create are. stubborn. could be obsessed with future spouse and can be someone who likes to many money. can be very sensual/sexual.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 3H ⟶ very communicative. slow speakers or likes to take time to make their point. can be someone who likes to make quick money. pretty hands and hand writing. can be manipulative. values intelligent and siblings and cousins. spends money on food and travelling. beautiful relatives and pretty/loud neighbourhood.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 4H ⟶ values family and order. very emotionally distant and private. very secretive and easily hurt. can be someone who is protective, and might become the money-maker of the family. being someone who has a nice aesthetic, and might sound like your mother, or a prominent female figure in the family.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 5H ⟶ very creative people. superstars and values talent. could value children and be very protective over them. or could value healing the inner child. very intelligent and educated. very sexual and can value romance and sex. could moan loud during sex or could like listening to hot audios.

♇ 2H RULER IN THE 6H ⟶ troubles with eating. gym/health freak. can value order and good health. might like to speak on the phone a lot and can be someone who could love pets or animals in general. being someone who likes to win as well, very competitive souls. but can be critical or someone who fishes for compliments to other people.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 7H ⟶ money from partners or business partnerships. can value connections with friends, family and people in general. can have a nice/airy voice, family relationship might've impacted how you behave in relationships. might love to buy aesthetically pleasing stuff and can be known to be pretty.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 8H ⟶ very private and guarded people. family secrets can change them. gaining finances through spouse or a will. can be be intimate and values intimacy. secret siblings/family members. sensual voices, known for voice acting or even singing. could also be mean if they wanted to.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 9H ⟶ values intelligence and travelling. could like to be flattered. being someone who could like to trade with other people. can be someone who values philosophy or having faith in something. people believing in them helps them become more confident, another placement where someone fishes for compliments all the time. can gain money through creative writing or directing. can have a big ego as well.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 10H ⟶ popular business moguls. can be a famous vocal actress or actor. up-front person. nice deep/commanding voice. authoritative person, someone who values career, discipline and reputation. can be very self-involved and controlling. prominent financial life. coming from a respectable or known family.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 11H ⟶ popular friends, values friendship and being independent. gaining money from the internet or through networking. distinct voices might sound animated. can be a humanitarian. weird food taste, found family core. being someone who loves privacy and charity. people are curious about your family, how you earn money. could have a wealthy future, or wealthy friends.

♱ 2H RULER IN THE 12H ⟶ drains through money. retail therapy. struggles with food. might be paranoid. light voices but shady people. unexpected talent, people are surprised whenever they're good at something. a family member might've gone to prison/been behind bars. manifestors. could be interested in the fae, could have dreamy beauty. might disappear a lot, and can be delusional.

masterlist

and i wanted to be kind and leave three mores spot for someone for a chart reading, £30 for any type of chart reading.

[pedrospatch]

someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She’s donning a festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress, and her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There’s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[batboyblog]

2024 Senate Elections: You'd Better VOTE!

Yes it's election year yet again in America! but not just for President, almost as important will be the US Senate!

I'm not gonna lie this is a rough map for Democrats, we're playing a lot of defense in some pretty red states with even our best hopes for a pick up being pretty long shots. But even with narrow control of the Senate we've managed the biggest climate bill in American History a huge infrastructure bill thats bring high speed rail to America capped the price of insulin changed the law to allow Medicare to negotiate drug prices bring savings to everyone, and put over 160 federal judges on the bench, 2/3rds of whom are women and/or people of color the first time white men haven't been the majority of nominees by a President. So let's keep progress going by voting for, supporting, donating, and volunteering for the following candidates in the races that will decide the US Senate this year.

Arizona

Ruben Gallego (Hold)

After frustrating Democrats by repeatedly voting against major Democratic priorities, supporting the filibuster and putting donors over voters, Arizona Senator Kyrsten Sinema left the Democratic Party to become an independent in 2022. Democratic congressman Ruben Gallego was running to primary Sinema before she left the party and is now the likely Democratic nominee to unseat her and give Arizona the Democratic Senator it deserves. Gallego is a former Marine, combat veteran, Harvard grad, a former state representative, and since 2014 a member of Congress. Gallego is a member of the Progressive Caucus and is known for his blunt and combative style standing up to Republicans. In Congress Gallego has been a strong supporter of native rights advocating for tribes on health care and child welfare issues. Gallego is also the sponsor of a bill to bring about nation wide, free, all-day kindergarten which isn't available in many states. If elected Gallego would be Arizona's first hispanic Senator. Republicans hope that the Democratic vote will split between Sinema and Gallego allowing them to win this important seat. The Republican front runner is conspiracy theorist and Trump super fan, Kari Lake. Lake rose to national fame in 2021 for pushing conspiracy theories about Trump having won the 2020 election, as well as anti-mask and anti-vaccine Covid conspiracies. Lake was the Republican nominee for Arizona governor in 2022. During that campaign she ran on an aggressive anti-LGBT platform, saying she'd ban drag, and was against trans rights. Lake also is against Abortion in all cases. After losing to Democrat Katie Hobbs, Lake refused to concede, and still pushes the conspiracy theory that she's the rightful governor of Arizona. If you live in Arizona please make sure you vote, but more if you have any time between now and November, volunteer to help Gallego! and if you don't live there you can still Donate or buy a pro-choice shirt from his campaign!

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Florida

Debbie Mucarsel-Powell (Flip)

Florida's current Republican Senator Rick Scott is a right wing extremist pushing dangerous ideas even by the standards of the Modern GOP. During his first term as Senator Scott has pushed to defund the IRS, and the Department of Education. He's sponsored bills to punish schools that allow students to use preferred pronouns, to ban affirmative action, bans teaching critical race theory, and ban trans people from women's sports. Scott is against abortion in all cases. Most alarming Rick Scott proposed a radical plan that would "sun-set" ANY and all federal laws after 5 years, including Social Security and Medicare, Scott would place all federal programs and agencies on the chopping block every 5 years for a radical Republican minority to block their renewal and leave us without Social Security, or the EPA, to name just two examples. The likely Democratic nominee is former Congresswoman Debbie Mucarsel-Powell. Born in Ecuador, Mucarsel-Powell immigrated to the US when she was 14 and had work to help support her family. When she was elected to Congress in 2018 she became the first South American born immigrant and first person of Ecuadorian heritage to be elected to Congress. In Congress Mucarsel-Powell was a member of the Progressive caucus, she fought to expand medicare, and secured $200 million for Everglades restoration. After a narrow defeat in 2020 Mucarsel-Powell joined the gun control advocacy group Giffords to fight for gun control a personal issue for her after her father was murdered when she was 24. If you're in Florida please make sure you vote, and Volunteer to help remove on of the most extreme Senators, If you're not in Florida you can help Debbie win by donating.

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Michigan

Elissa Slotkin (hold)

Long time Democratic Senator Debbie Stabenow is retiring this election, so there will be a tough fight for control of this important swing state Senate seat. The likely Democratic nominee is Congresswoman Elissa Slotkin. Slotkin is a former CIA analyst, after retiring from the CIA she worked in the State and Defense departments during the Obama administration. Slotkin was first elected to Congress in 2018 winning and being re-elected in a tough swing district. In Congress she's fought for common sense gun control, supported the cap on insulin prices and Medicare drug price negotiation, she helped pass a law on drug price transparency, she championed the CHIP act to bring high tech manufacturing jobs back to America, and was a big supporter of Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Slotkin is centering a pro-choice message in her campaign as well as gun control and bring down medical costs. Who the Republicans will pick isn't totally clear, it seems like it's between Former Congressman Mike Rogers and former Detroit Police chief James Craig. Craig ran for Michigan governor in 2022 before he was disqualified for fraudulent signatures on his nominating petition. Craig has listed cutting off US support to Ukraine as one of his top priorities, and endorsed Trump's 3rd run for President early in the primaries. Mike Rogers is also trying to win over Trump voters and has attacked the rights of LGBT students in schools calling it "social engineering". If you live in Michigan make sure to get out and vote, and also volunteer! And for everyone outside the state you can donate or buy some merch.

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Montana

Jon Tester (re-elect)

In most contexts Montana is a deep red state going for Trump in 2020 57% to 40%. This makes the reelection of Montana's only Democratic member of Congress and only statewide elected Democrat, Jon Tester maybe the toughest election for Democrats this year. A Senator since he was first elected in 2006 Tester has won a series of upset wins in Montana over the years. A 3rd generation farmer Tester has been as strong for small farmers and ranchers in Washington. Tester has always been a champion of accountably and transparency in government pushing ethnics and campaign finance reforms. Tester is rated one of the most effective senators and managed to pass more bills last year than any one else in Congress. He's never been afraid to stand up for the Democratic side even if it'd be an unpopular vote in Red Montana. Tester voted to impeach Trump twice, and he voted against all 3 of Trump's nominees to the Supreme Court. He supported President Obama on The Affordable Care Act and Dodd-Frank, and has supported President Biden on the Inflation Reduction Act and Bipartisan Infrastructure Law. Republicans seem likely to nominate right wing influencer and former Navy SEAL Tim Sheehy. Sheehy promises to get drag queens out of schools and the Lord's Prayer in to the classroom. He also hopes to repeal Obamacare calling for a "total privatization" of health care and made statements against the very idea of health insurance, insisting people should pay full price at point of use. If you're a Montanan make sure to vote to re-elect a champion of the little guy, and also volunteer! if you're not please think of donating what you can, if you can only give to one campaign this cycle this one, or Ohio are the most important!

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Nevada

Jacky Rosen (re-elect)

First elected to Congress in 2016 Jacky Rosen moved up to the Senate in 2018. In her first term as a Senator Rosen has championed green energy for Nevada. Together with fellow Democratic Nevada Senator Catherine Cortez Masto, Rosen has gotten millions for solar manufacturing in Nevada as well as millions to replace the state's school buses with electric, and programs to study new groundbreaking green technology. Senator Rosen has been a supporter of gun control, is in favor of banning assault weapons. She sponsored a bill, the Background Check Expansion Act, that would require background checks for all gun sales closing loopholes for on-line sales and gun shows. Rosen is pro-choice and has sponsored a bill to protect doctors from being prosecuted across state lines for providing reproductive care, and is a co-sponsor of a bill to codify Roe V. Wade into federal law. Rosen will likely face Republican celebrity and army veteran Sam Brown. Brown ran and lost a race for the Texas State House in 2014 and ran and lost for Nevada's other Senate seat in 2022. Brown stated he was in favor of getting rid of the Departments of Education, Transportation, and Energy. Brown is against Red Flag gun laws that allow police to temporarily remove fire arms from the home of someone deemed a danger to themselves or others. Brown also has refused to say if he supports a national abortion ban, but does say he's pro-life and wouldn't support any judges that weren't. If you live in Nevada make sure to get out to vote and volunteer to protect the state's green future and the right to reproductive care. If you're not in Nevada consider donating or buying some merch.

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Ohio

Sherrod Brown (re-elect)

Ohio together with Montana represents the toughest re-elect for Democrats this year. The state went for Trump twice, elected a right wing radical, JD Vaince, to the Senate in 2022 and has had a Republican governor since 2010. To complicate thing more Democrat Sherrod Brown is one of the most progressive members of the Senate, regularly scoring along side Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren for the most left wing in the Senate. From the time he was first elected to Congress in 1992 Brown refused to take the Congressional Health Insurance until all Americans could be covered. Brown first supported a Medicare for all bill in 2006 and has supported different efforts to expand Medicare and health coverage. He was a key supporter of the Children Health Insurance Program (CHIP). Brown is a strong supporter of unions and has struggled his whole career to protect unionized manufacturing jobs in Ohio. He was one of the first Senators out on the picket line during the UAW strike of 2023. Brown's hard work has help make Ohio the center of a new booming lithium battery manufacturing in America, a green manufacturing future for the state. Republicans look likely to nominate former used car dealer and father-in-law of Republican Congressman Max Miller, Bernie Moreno. Moreno's main qualification seems to be having been endorsed by Donald Trump. He lists among his priorities "End Socialism in America" and "End Wokeness and Cancel Culture". If you're in Ohio make sure to vote to re-elect a progressive giant and volunteer too! If you live out of Ohio donate, if you're looking for the race where your dollar will matter the most, this one or Montana guys.

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Pennsylvania

Bob Casey Jr. (re-elect)

First elected in 2006 Bob Casey famously beat incumbent Republican homophobe Rick Santorum by 17 points. Since first entering the Senate Casey has moved leftward on a number of issues. First elected as a pro-Gun Democrat since 2012 Casey has sponsored a number of bills to expand background checks, ban assault weapons, ban extended magazines, and well as supporting mental health funds for victims of gun violence. For a number of years Casey was called the last pro-life Democrat in the Senate, however in 2022 he came out in support of Roe V Wade and voted twice on bills that would have codified the right to an abortion into federal law. Casey voted against all 3 of Trump's Supreme Court picks and has long supported Planned Parenthood's contraception efforts with federal funds, seeing easily available birth control as key to reducing the number of abortions. In 2021 Casey published a plan he called "The Five Freedoms for America's Children" modeled after FDR's famous speech. He proposed automatically enrolling all kids in Medicaid, an expanded child tax cut, a federally supported college fund for all kids who's parents make under $100,000, expanded free school meals, more funds for head start and abuse prevention programs. Republicans are rallying behind Mitch McConnell's hand picked candidate, hedge fund CEO David McCormick. McCormick worked for the Bush administration during Bush's second term. McCormick's wife Dina Powell also worked for the George W. Bush administration and was a senior aid to Trump as well. If you're in Pennsylvania make sure to get out and vote for a solid Democrat out to solve child poverty in America and keep the Hedge Fund guy from Connecticut out, and Volunteer if you can. Remember you can donate where ever you are.

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Texas

Colin Allred (flip)

Texas is currently represented by likely the most hated man in Washington, Ted Cruz. Republicans hate him, Democrats hate him more, he has a very punchable face, he might be the zodiac killer (thats a joke and meme). From shutting down the government in 2013 to try to overturn Obamacare, to leading the charge in Congress to overturn the 2020 election on January 6th Ted Cruz is a greatest hits of the worst parts of the Republican Party of the last 10 years. When Texas lost power in the middle of a historic ice storm in 2021 Ted Cruz and family ditched the state to go on vacation in Mexico, classy. Cruz in the Biden years has cast himself as a culture warrior fighting against "woke" publishing a book "Unwoke: How to Defeat Cultural Marxism in America" in 2023 to kick off his re-election campaign. Texas is a traditionally red state but things are starting to shift and in 2018 Cruz narrowly won re-election over Beto O'Rourke. Democrats hope with the right candidate they can turn Texas blue and beat the most hated Senator in America. Democrats think Congressman Colin Allred is the man for the job. Allred is a former NFL Linebacker for the Titans. After the NFL he went on to get his law degree from UC Berkeley, and work in the Obama administration. Allred was first elected to Congress in 2018, unseating a Republican who'd been in office since 1997 and becoming the first Democrat to represent the area in Congress since 1968. In Congress Allred has supported bills to expand voting right and protect abortion rights, as well as gun control. In the Senate he promises to address Texas' shaky power grid and make sure Texas is never left in the dark again with its leaders missing. Lets do this Texas, make blue Texas a reality if you live in Texas remember to vote and volunteer, if you're an American who hates Ted Cruz you can donate to make in unemployed.

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Wisconsin

Tammy Baldwin (re-elect)

When Tammy Baldwin first ran for Congress in 1998 she was the first openly gay person elected to the US House and the first open Lesbian to serve in Congress. In 2012 she became the first openly gay person elected to the US Senate and the first Lesbian to be a Senator, she is still the only openly gay Senator. Through out her time in office Baldwin has been a tireless voice for LGBT rights, in 2022 she helped spear head the passage of the Respect for Marriage Act to help protect gay marriage, she's also a sponsor of the Equality Act to protect all LGBT people from discrimination. Baldwin is a progressive who was a member of the House Progressive caucus, opposed the Iraq War and supported impeaching Dick Cheney. In the House she introduced bills for a single payer healthcare system in 2000, 2002, 2004, and 2005. In the Senate Baldwin is regularly listed as one of the most progressive members, voting against tax cuts for the rich, supporting a bill to require companies to have workers on their boards, she sponsored a bill to create a public option in Health Care, and has supported gun control efforts. The Republican field to challenge Senator Baldwin is uncertain, but former Milwaukee sheriff David Clarke dominates the polls if he decides to run. Clarke's sheriff's department is accused a number of human rights violations from his time as sheriff, including allowing a prisoner to die of dehydration after 6 days without water in the Milwaukee County Jail. Clarke is a Trump super fan who has pushed conspiracy theories about mass shootings being fake, attacked Black Lives Matter, called Planned Parenthood "Planned Genocide", and called for the mass detention without trial of Americans because he believed there were a million ISIS supporters in America. If you're in Wisconsin make sure to get out and vote for a trailblazing icon and also volunteer if you can, all Americans can donate and support Baldwin wherever they are.

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If you're an American citizen and will be 18 years old (or older) by November 5th 2024, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! make sure you're registered to VOTE please check Vote.Org to find out what you need to do, what deadlines there are and act NOW

If you're an American living outside the US, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO VOTE. Please checkout Vote From Aboard they have literally all the information you need to get registered and get your ballot wherever in the world you are, and Check out Democrats Abroad to take part in the global primary

Where ever you live in the US, there is an important life changing election happening! Get off your phone or computer and get involved, There are Events happening all around you right now Volunteer

Finally if you're a US citizen of any age any where on earth you can donate, donate to elect Biden/Harris donate to elect Democrats to the Senate, To the House, to Governorships, to local office

and the smallest thing you can do is reblog this very long post, thank you!

[shaisuki]

the fourth wife

PAIRING. YANDERE! TENGEN UZUI & WIVES X CHUBBY READER

CONTENT WARNINGS. angst + babytrapping + dubious consent + manipulation + gaslighting + forced affection

SYNOPSIS. you never signed for this.

it is you who caught the sound hashira's interest.

tengen have come across of different women. single and married. the pretty ones and the average ones. he encountered all of them even whom he considered flashy and took his interest in the most way that will leave him wanting for more but he never made any advances to them. no matter how attractive and pleasing they are for his tastes for he is devoted to his three wives, bound by duty.

it once crossed his mind that he ought to take another wife and it would be bound by love. sure he loves his wives. adored them in the flashy way he can show it and they are the same to him but it was out of duty. a custom of his clan but what of it when he's already free of them. no rules to abide and will from his own.

he abandoned the thought of it long ago. realizing he's contented with hinatsuru, makio and suma. the relationship between them four wasn't out of love but respect and tengen likes the dynamic of it however it came crashing down on him. the long buried thought in the back of his head came surfacing once he fell in love with you.

a daughter of a humble merchant. one that supplies the goods in the rest house where he stayed in the duration of his recovery after previous missions decision that he needed to be taken care of before returning to his wives even they are more than capable of taking care of him and that's when tengen first laid his eyes in you.

first noticing the different built of your body. you were soft. soft anyone can be and tengen knew soft having three wives gave him the knowledge about the anatomy of a woman and long he burned in his mind what they looked like. you were different from it and when he lifts his gaze up. he saw the most expressive face a human can see and that's when you notice him. offering him a curt smile and then you nodded. merely acknowledging his presence and that's when tengen knew he was a goner and the thought of making you his fourth wife have come to life.

he wasted no time in finding you. introduced himself and from the looks of it you were smitten as he was to you. your parents were delighted to have a man like him who wanted to marry their daughter and so tengen asked for your hand and that's when he's about to get you accepting his proposal, you refused. much to the horror and dismay of your parents. you bowed politely to him despite the affection you have for him in a short span of time. tengen was baffled how could you refused such proposal and that's when you told him the reason and tengen knew you were right. there's no fighting about it.

at the ripe age of twenty-one. many considered that you were past of a marriageable age. growing up with friends that have married before they can reach the age of eighteen, you knew that you're not the sharing the same fate as theirs. while they started to nurse their babies and decided to follow it with an abundance of children you remained the same. deciding that you were not suited for the marriage life. liking the life as a single and your parents didn't need to worry if they desire grandchildren, your older brother have already fulfilled it and it's not like you were the attractive of the bunch of your friends. you would rather be free without being tied to a man who would criticize you for not being deemed beautiful and the standard of your time after the marriage hence your parents agreed besides they still don't want to depart their precious daughter.

tengen's too good to be true and that's the reason you knew he was married. promised and bound to someone. a man who is built like a god which is true, he introduced himself to you as a god of the festivals an attempt to woo you and that almost made you fall for him. handsome he is with his white hair and the flashy accessories he wore and those maroon eyes of his that held confidence and that eccentric personality of his which you find endearing. he's the dream of every lady and you were lucky he took interest in you and said that he was in love with you so what's the catch? he was married, not one but to three women.

he confessed it to you after you refused. calling you a smart girl for finding it out. he explained it to you that it was made by duty but what of duty when it he's already committed and he possibly can't think that you can be his wife despite his wives. you find the proposal absurd and selfish. his desire is your misery and you don't want that. the reason why you avoided being married despite the pressure have put you. your parents were not happy either. they take what they said and didn't accept his proposal despite the promise of paying a dowry just for your hand.

tengen left after that and returned home. back to hinatsuru, makio and suma where he knew he is loved and adored. he remained the same after what happened. not wanting to worry his wives who cared for his being but it doesn't miss their eyes and the feeling that their lord husband is bothered by something, someone.....

they all knew it. this marriage was duty and they played their parts on it and sooner and later their husband will fall in love someone. they knew he loved them but it was respect and that was enough for them and so then they decided to talk their lord husband about it and how right they are and accepted what tengen have said to them.

makio, suma and hinatsuru, all tengen's wives gathered in the estate's living room as they have been summoned by their husband. makio and suma are both anxious while hinatsuru remained calm but despite that he knows how their husband gets when they are all here, it must be important.

it is important. the most important of all, second to tenged and it will be their new priority. a new addition to this family of them.

and hinatsuru was right.

tengen broke the news to them. “my wives, duty bounded us all and i am proud that i have fulfilled all your needs as a husband.” the sound hashira confidently boasted about his achievements to them and it's true. tengen exceeded his duties as a husband and them as his wives. “it is i decided that i desire for a wife.”

there was a complete silence between them.

it was anticipated that this day would come. their lord husband wanting a wife that he loves. he loves them but it was out of respect and responsibility. in many years they were together not once tengen have expressed his desire for a wife that he wanted. they were chosen to be his wife and it's different for this woman that have captured their lord husband's attention. tengen have found someone who he knew he loves from the depths of his heart.

hinatsuru unconsciously grip her kimono. she knew it and it pained her that her lord husband still decided that he wants to marry again despite them three but it was his lord husband's happiness and she was happy for him. although a little hurt, she gave a reassuring smile to tengen. turning her frown upsidedown. her lord husband wishes for it and she's merely a wife to him and she would not put herself in the way of his husband even sharing him with a another woman again.

makio on the other hand wasn't too happy about it. her brows furrowed and a concentrated look in her face. makio was not trying to show his displeasure at the said news but what of it? it's not her place to say it. she doesn't have the heart to tell him and that husband face of her lord husband brimming with an unadulterated love for a woman she is yet to met. she shared her love for tengen with the other in two, what difference would it make when another join this union when it's important for her lord tengen.

suma was desperately trying not to cry but alas a few years escaped from her eyes. it wasn't her problem and he wouldn't be tengen's wife if it wasn't for her bawling her eyes out and thus, replacing her sister when they chose her as one of tengen's wives. she didn't have the right but it's too much not to think about it, knowing that if you accept they will be another contender to tengen's attention and it was you he loves.

tengen wouldn't be called their husband if he didn't care for his wives and truth be told he expected these kind of reactions from them. “my wives, there is nothing wrong to feel this way and i told you of this desire of mine for the reason i didn't want my wives to worry. i know this is hard but please meet her. you will love her like i did.” tengen said, his voice tinged with tenderness and they want to melt at the spot but if tengen was so sure of you, how could they not?

true to his words their lord tengen was. you were all what he described you as and it almost made him want to sing praises for you. they realized that you were just not going to be as someone to them. you were going to be their new partner and a wife to tengen.

they approached you while you tend to the goods in the stall you have set up. curious gazes mixed with envious stare at why someone like you have bewitched a man like their husband and then the answer was clear. when you spoke, the words they were kind. your gaze clear as the sky. pure as the water that flows in the stream. it's almost enough to made them weep.

without pretending and not being able to hide their identities to you, they have laid what they're plans for you and the future that you'll have with you in their life. the requests absurd. you were not going to be a fourth wife of someone who had already three beautiful wives and he's clearly wrong in the head to be going for you and adding you to his collection of his wives. what will be of you and you took the course of what you deemed is right. you straight out refused. you can't accept such terms. bowing your head in a respectful manner and you requested that will be the last time you're seeing the four of them.

it came true but such request like that won't be easy for them.

they were hurt but it's your right. your wish and they were made to respect that but what about tengen. it was clear that their lord husband is deeply infatuated with you. the late night departures and the talk of you. they can't resist his wishes to be with you. as selfish it can be, you were going to be tengen's. wether you like it or not.

it was simply wrong of them to force you but what can they do. the more they know you longer, the deeper they have fallen for you. never did they thought they would share tengen's affection for you. it was maddening. frustratingly ambitious. they can't imagine without you. the mere thought of it drives them crazy so they did what they know are befitting for you.

they took you. it can't be considered an accident. your home burning along with your parents perishing in the accident. no place to take shelter, no people you can confide in. they took you in. offering you with condolences that doesn't pass the intentions they have with you.

you shared a home with your suitor with his wives and it was so wrong. you can't belong in this place and with their strange arrangement. it was from hospitality they were giving to you. it was trapping you in a place. it was too late for you to leave now. their plans have come to fruition and it was decided that you're going to complete their family.

who knows you have no tolerance for sake. the liquid drawing fire down your throat as you took a sip of it. you only insisted that you're only drinking a cup but they insisted that you deserve to drink more. it's a way for you to bond with them and this is their way to get to know you more while their lord husband is away taking dangerous missions.

when you started to get more open to them. they brought the topic of you marrying tengen and you will going to be a part of the relationship. you said no but the arrangement it wasn't. withing a fortnight you were married to him. a tear escaping your eye at what have you done to yourself. you place your self in a trap with no way out but the light is the marriage is yet to be consummated. the marriage isn't valid and you clinged to that while you planned your escape.

the plan's foiled. there's no way out. hinatsuru's lips are on your neck. sucking on that sensitive that leaves you gasping. makio and suma were sucking on your nipples. their tongues swirling on your hardened buds. your legs being spread by them and you tears continuously rolled. you can't get yourself free from them.

while they busied their selves on you, you almost didn't notice tengen looming all over you four. his thick fingers spreading your pussy lips and admires your sex glistening with wetness. it was time for this marriage to be consummated. they already have planned with it.

the fat tip of his cock slowly nudges into your pulsing hole. groaning at the sensation and at the sight of his wives pleasuring the new addition of their family. you can't go now. you would belong to them after this and to make it true, his cock swiftly entered your hole and with that, there's no way out.

it was months after that, every desperate attempt of escape were prevented. you sat there emotionless while your wives simply doted on you while tengen did his duties. fawning over your pregnant belly and cooing how they can't wait to see the little one being born. they weren't jealous of you being pregnant with tengen's baby. it was the opposite. they were delighted.

such delightful event means that you can no longer escape them.

[softle0]

A little message for mostly YouTube builders but y’all in general, I hope I’m not being too rough but..

I know it’s been just a couple of days but guys what you mean when you say you were expecting more “Mexican” style furniture in the new ep? 😭😭 y’all don’t expect us to have art deco or modern stuff? Like seriously, what do you guys want 😂 We all Mexican simmers think this new pack is very accurate, you can even ask the simmers that worked in the official builds 🤷🏻‍♀️

Y’all really falling over the Americanized cliché of Mexico fr, this pack is inspired in Mexico City. We are a city, the population is like 24million, we’re a really big city 💀 please leave your “villas” and “haciendas” to oasis springs or sol del valey.

Please I beg you to not come and say “oh this is not giving Mexico” cause clearly you don’t know what are you talking about, be educated fr. I said it before and I’m gonna keep talking about it; But the architectural limitations in Mexico are pretty much non-existent. We probably have every single architectural style you can think about. Modern, post-modern, brutalist, art deco, mid century, colonial, Romanesque, gothic among others, probably even Tudor 😭 so you coming and expecting us to only have the villas or colorful haciendas fiesta salsa talcos it really hurts me as Mexican 😂

I’m not hating against them, I love them and as I said we have all types of places so keep doing them if you want but that’s not really common in Mexico City. So why y’all keep going with the same villas or just straight boxes builds 😭 please do more research over than using only Pinterest please, is really not that hard 🙏🏻 there’s a lot of fellow Mexican simmers, there’s google, google maps, you can even do a research of Mexico City in airbnb 😭😭 likeeee there’s a ton of ways to get information really…. You can really step up your building game if you only do a proper research. As I’ve seen a lot of you do for other worlds, why not taking the time for Mexico? Why y’all don’t respect us as much as other cultures?:(

And I know and I understand y’all probably won’t be 100% accurate if you’re not Mexicans but that doesn’t mean you can build a Los Angeles Spanish style of home and get away with it by saying “sorry if is not that accurate” 😭 cause you’re not even trying :( Mind you I been working on a uk inspired save when I never been outside my country other than some places in Canada and Florida and I’m still doing very realistic builds just by doing some research. And I’m 100% sure almost every other realistic builder is in the same situation.

Y’all are amazing and you’re so creative, I love that about the community and I know y’all can do wonderful things if doing a really small but proper research!

And next time you wanna talk about if something is giving or not Mexican at least be educated before talking about something you don’t know, it’s honestly very disrespectful. Y’all are better than that and please don’t take this as an offense, this is more like constructive criticism. I know y’all not doing this on purpose, this is just based on ignorance which is nothing bad, you can always learn something new!🥺 please do better!!

[writingsbytee]

I LOVE YOU

SUMMARY: The reader and Terry say ‘I love you for the first time’

WARNINGS:  SMUT!!! 18+; MINORS DON’T INTERACT!!!!!;  ‘p’ in ‘v’, pure filth; MDOM; use of “daddy”, “babygirl”; size kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); switch; slight FDOM if you squint.

Word count: 1.587

Please be nice to me. This is my first time ever writing or posting for other people to consume. I accept constructive criticism but don’t be mean please. I hope you guys enjoy! I'm so excited to share this with you guys. Please don’t plagiarize my work 😘

“Fuck Daddy! Right there! Right there! Oh God!” I nearly scream into my pillow. 

“Yeah? That’s the spot baby?” Terry moans, as he obliterates my cervix with his thick dick. His thrusts are punishing. He is tearing my ass up and I’m loving every second of it. 

“Y- yes Daddy it feels so good. You always make me feel so gooood”, I moan out. I’m almost delirious at this point. We’ve been going at it for hours now. Terry and I rented a cabin in Lake Tahoe for our first anniversary. We could barely unpack before we were on each other. 

“Deeper Daddy! Please! I need to feel that big fucking dick in my stomach! Please give it to me Daddy!” This man has me moaning like an absolute slut. Saying things that would make a monk blush. 

“Well, fucking take this dick baby. Take it all,” Terry growls, grabbing a few pillows, and placing one under my head and my lower stomach. He then grabbed both my arms, pinning them behind my back, then using his other hand to hold my head against my pillow, and then he went to WORK.

If I thought we were fucking before, that’s nothing compared to what we’re doing now. He is digging my shit out. His dick is punishing my cervix like it stole something. I let out a high-pitched moan when one of his hands came cracking down on my ass. He slid his hand to hold the back of my throat and I practically purred, complete putty in this man’s hand. 

“Fuck yeah, baby! Look at you, being such a good girl f’me. Taking Daddy’s dick like a champion. Baby, you’re so pretty like this.” Terry rains praise after praise on me and I can’t help but bounce my ass just a bit harder.

“Ooh you like hearing that shit huh baby? You’re doing so good for me pretty girl. Fuck you’re so wet baby I feel like I’ll slide out. This is the best fucking pussy ever! Shit! Yeah, that’s right fuck your dick baby. Take that shit c’mon!”

“Terry! Fuck! It’s feels so good! I need this baby fuck I love you,” I moan out. I barely process him pulling out of me before he flips me over. 

“What’d you say?” Terry asks.

“Hmm?” I ask in a daze.

“Just now baby, what did you say?” Terry asks coming face to face with me.

I close my eyes recalling the last few minutes and I gasp. I look up at Terry, and he looks like the world’s cutest golden retriever. 

I smile before saying, “I love you, Terry.”

He grins wide at me, “I was supposed to say it first. Now I have to punish you for stealing my thunder.”

“Oh no!” I say rolling my eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Terry asked his voice deepening sexily.

“I did, and what are you going to do about it, Daddy?” I ask flipping back over and interlocking my hands at the base of my spine. 

Terry chuckles darkly before interlacing one of his hands with both of mine. I hear the crack of his hand across my asscheek before I feel it. The delicious warmth spreading across my ass pulls a needy whine from deep in my belly. Terry grips the meat of my asscheek soothing the burn before he leans forward to whisper in my ear.

“Start counting babygirl.” He raises back up, his hand lays in three slaps back to back. 

A squeal leaves my lips as the third slap lands, “one, two, three”

“I can’t fucking hear you!” Terry grabs the ponytail he so lovingly put my hair in before he yanks me up.

“C’mon, you can be loud talking all that shit. Be loud while I’m laying into this ass. Just for that start over,” Terry says in my ear. His voice is so sexy I could come from this alone.

“No, Daddy please don’t! I need you! Please!” I moan out grinding back trying to catch his dick.

“Oh, what’s wrong? You want me to fuck this pussy don’t you baby?”

I moan, “Yes, yes, please!”

“Listen to yourself. So fucking desperate for this dick. Why should I give it to you? Huh?!” He lands three more slaps on my ass.

“Ugh! Because I love you, baby. Don’t you want me to show you?” I smirk and shake my ass, jiggling the way he likes. 

“Fucking show me then. Take your fucking dick baby”, Terry says as he leans back on on his calves. I take that as my sign to show out. 

“Let me turn around Daddy. I want to see you, please,” I whine trying to get out of his grip. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I guess that’s fine. But, you’re doing all the work. Show me you love me baby”, Terry whispers in my ear while rubbing my clit in slow agonizing circles. 

 I moan as he releases my hands and slowly turn around. I look up at my handsome ex-marine and my hearts warms as I give him a dopey smile.

“What’s got you smiling all big baby?”, Terry asks caressing my cheek.

I lean into his hand, “Oh nothing, just love you.”

“I love you too babygirl, now come on and fuck me so we can get pho later,” Terry chuckles with another slap on my ass. A man that feeds me after he fucks me silly? Yeah, let me fuck the shit out him real quick. I turn in his arms and lace my fingers behind his neck.

“Kiss me,” I say pulling his head towards mine so that our lips could meet.  When our lips finally meet, I slide myself down his thick shaft. 

“Ohh Daddy you’re so deep inside me,” I moan as the tip of his dick kisses my cervix.

“Right where I belong, now get to work before I take over,” Terry says his hand sliding down to my throat gripping slightly. 

“Whatever daddy wants,” I moan as I slide myself up and down his dick. I watch Terry’s face changes as I start grinding. 

“Mm, fuck baby that’s what I’m talking about. Fuck me,” Terry’s eyes darken the color of storm clouds, his teeth buried in his lip, and his brow furrowed. 

“You look so sexy like this baby, taking my pussy like a good boy. Tell me how much you love it,” I say in his ear before taking a small bite.

Terry groans tilting his head back like he can’t take it and my smirk widens, “I love your pussy baby, you know I do. Always so warm and wet for me, fuck you’re going to make be cum”

“Lift that head up baby look at me, show me how good it feels,” I shift on my toes so that I can bounce a little bit harder. He lifts his head up to look at me. Seeing Terry become undone by me has to be the biggest turn on. This mountain of a man, and I do mean man is a whimpering, moaning mess because of me. If that doesn’t make a woman feel like a goddess I don’t know what will.

“Oh baby I love seeing you like this. You’re so pussy drunk you can barely keep your eyes open. I’m getting close baby I need you to do something for me ok Daddy?”

“Anything babygirl, whatever you want.. mm fuck I’m going to cum”, Terry’s trying to hold on. The grip on my hips so tight I know they’ll be bruises in the morning. 

“That’s what I want Daddy. Come. Fill this pussy up, give me everything you have. I need it”, I whine mouthing all over his neck. 

Terry brings his hand towards my clit and starts to rub with his thumb while pressing my lower belly with his remaining fingers. 

“Oh shit! Terry! Fuck!”, I scream as the dam breaks. I come so hard my eyes cross. Next thing I know my face is buried in the pillows again and Terry is pounding my shit.

“Yeah you was talking all that shit! Fuck, now look at you! Dick made you stupid huh?”

I’m a moaning mess. Tears streaming down my face at the overstimulation. The dick definitely made me stupid. 

“I’m about to fill this pussy up! Fucccckkkk”, Terry groans cumming deep inside me. I hum satisfied mumbling a quiet ‘thank you daddy’. He slides out of me slowly before flopping next to me on his back. 

“Goddamn baby. We couldn’t even get in the door good,” Terry chuckles. I reach for him, my hand rubbing his chest right above his heart. 

“ It was so worth it, I love you baby,” I say looking up at him still too fucked out to move. 

Terry leans over placing a kiss at the base of my spine, “Not as much as I love you. Now come on let’s go eat before you get too tired”

[lilylushes]

Luigi Mangione - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): I already did h/c’s for this, but he’s amazing. He cuddles with you, praising you and leaving you kisses. Things like, “you were so good for me,” “you’re so pretty,” “I love you so much, baby.” He would get you water, put on a bath or shower and join you. He would be reading up on how to make you feel good after sex too and why it’s important for you and your relationship.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): his PhD I think his abs or shoulders. He said himself that he got his six pack because he had to change his workout routine due to an injury. He adapted and worked through his hardships. And I think he probably likes his shoulders as well. On you, I think he would love your eyes. This is a soulful man, imo. He knows that eyes are the windows to the soul and I think he would get lost in them all the time, sometimes even zoning out haha. Even when you’re just cuddling, he asks you to look at him, just so he can look into your eyes and tell you you’re beautiful. But when you’re intimate, he loves eye contact. LOVES it. It cannot be understated. He wants to see you come undone for him while he stares into your soul and you stare into his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): We all knew this but he has a BREEDING KINK. He didn’t talk about low birth rates for nothing, and he comes from a big family. He loves the idea of cumming inside of you to make you his. When you first said, “fill my pussy up, please,” something in him changed. He almost went feral, finishing right after the words came out of your month. His dirty talk will always include things like, “gonna breed this pretty little pussy,” “want me to fill up this tight pussy of yours,” “wanna fill you up with my babies, hm.” And speaking of, when you guys start trying for kids, you’re fucking like rabbits, even though you did before as well. You’re going at it multiple times a day in every room.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): Before you talked about having kids and before you got off the pill, he told himself he wouldn’t be mad if you did get pregnant. He knew he wanted to be with you forever and believed in divine timing. The two of you wanted to settle down, but weren’t fussed about getting married and then having kids or having a certain timeline. He often thought of what they would look like and sometimes he would mention to you a name that he liked just to see your reaction.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): This is a tough one because I think he could be experienced but maybe not. I’m actually leaning towards him not being that experienced due to his injury and seemingly not being that into dating casually and being a nerd. I would say body count under 10 for sure, potentially less than 5. Still, he DEFINITELY knows what he’s doing. He had a book about female pleasure on his GoodReads for god’s sake. He gets off on you feeling good and finishing. He knows all the female anatomy and is always reading about new ways to please you whether it be a new pussy eating technique or a way to please your erogenous zones. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): MISSIONARY. In this sense, he’s a traditional kind of guy. He loves all sex and all positions, but missionary is his favourite because he’s dominant and can see you coming undone beneath him. He has access to your clit, boobs, hips, neck, mouth, everywhere. He can also look deeply into your eyes the entire time which he loves doing. Eye contact is CRITICAL to this man. Oh, and he can lower himself down to whisper dirty shit into your ear. His favourite things about missionary overall are seeing the effect he has on you and being able to look into your eyes.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): He can be goofy sometimes, but not all the time. I think goofiness would mostly happen in bed, rather than any quickies, where he’s rougher and more serious. He’ll laugh if you’re fucking at his or your parents’ place and you can’t keep quiet, or if something falls over. It puts you both at ease and make you feel safe and connected. You love when he laughs right against your lips or face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): We’ve seen how fast the hair on his head grows, so I’d imagine down there is similar. I’m thinking that he keeps things neat and trimmed, but not fully bare. As for you, I don’t think he’d have a preference at all.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): I think that Luigi really sees all intimacy as something that is almost spiritual for your connection. It’s an important part of the relationship, but he doesn’t think that in a selfish way. He knows it’s so important for your partnership and relationship. Luckily, you’re both horny freaks so there have never been any issues there. I think sexually, he’s pretty traditional in the way that he loves missionary, eye contact, etc. He wants to feel as close to you as possible physically, emotionally, spiritually. But not in such a serious or intense way. He watches you closely, knows what makes you get closer to your release, and is always praising you and dirty talking.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

He doesn’t masturbate often because, as I said, you’re both horny freaks

If he does, it’s because you’re away or maybe after you had a baby (and he probably asked permission before lol)

For him, jacking off could NEVER beat having sex with you, EVER, so he almost never wants to do it because it’s just not that arousing

You have tried both touching yourselves in bed together, but your hands quickly wander to the other person

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): Like I said, breeding and praise kink!!! He wants to give you his babies like yesterday. To him, making a baby together is the most intimate thing he can think of. It’s really the two of you committing to one another forever and going through something incredibly special together. I’m just also going to add that while he enjoys MAKING the baby, he’d really have that attitude throughout your pregnancy and postpartum. And yes, praise kink. Since day 1, he’s been calling you a good girl and saying how beautiful you were taking his cock. Oh, and size kink! He loves the thought of his PhD hitting your cervix and stomach. He gets hard just thinking about how you have to adjust for a second after he enters you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): I think he likes the bed. It’s your safe place where you can try new things and be as close as possible. The bed also makes missionary more comfortable as there’s ample space for the two of you. He would like the couch too. Many of your makeout sessions during movie night turn to more and you don’t feel the need to go to the bedroom. Sometimes when you have a bath together, you’ll ride him nice and slow, which he loves. That being said, it’s not like your kitchen countertop, car, and several public places haven’t been sites for your sexcapades.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): He loves seeing you get turned on. He is all about giving you pleasure. If you even moan during a perfectly innocent kiss, the blood rushes downward. Seeing and hearing you beg for him, eye contact, and dirty talk work on him too. Even if he’s not in the mood himself, if you are, he’ll get in the mood. He knows he’s the only one who can make you feel that good, and he loves nothing more than seeing you taking his cock and talking you through your orgasm.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Scat and piss for sure. I also think he would never be down for a threesome, like, ever. You’re his and he’s yours, in this life, and the rest. He’s not going to do anything super violent. He’ll slap your ass of course (and maybe your face idk on this one), but he’s not going to be violent with you. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): Like I’ve said, he gets off on getting you off. Watching you come undone on his fingers or his mouth could make him cum in his pants. Our little bookworm is always reading about new ways and techniques to make you cum. That being said, he loves the sight of you on your knees, taking him in your mouth, licking the tip, or sucking his balls while pumping his length. He will ask you for BJs on occasion. You two communicate all of your needs well, including sexually. If either of you asked for or received oral, you always reciprocate, or at least offer.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): A mix! There are times when he’s slow and gentle, and times when he’s rough and fast. You both enjoy both A LOT. And you seem to be able to read each other’s mind on what you want or need on that day. Slower, gentler sex makes you both feel incredibly connected to one another emotionally, while rougher sex brings out your primal sides. Both are essential for a good relationship, so you VERY happily take part in both often. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): You two usually have sex at home because you like to be free to make noise and let your guards down, not worrying about someone hearing or walking in. Being at home lets you really focus on the other person and how they’re feeling. But you do engage in quickies. And because you’re both perpetually horny, it’s decently often. Typically, it’ll be in your car, on a secluded beach, or in a bathroom. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): He will if you demonstrate to him that you’re comfortable and feel safe. A lot of things are your suggestion and he’s happy to try. You’ll try things like sensation play, some light BDSM, but overall you keep things pretty tame.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): With his back, he can’t go for as many rounds as he’d like, but the ones you do have pack a punch. Two or three rounds and you’re both exhausted, opting for a cuddle session or a bath to rest up before you’re ready for more. As for how long he lasts, it depends I think. Sometimes he will be fighting for his life not to cum in his pants while you’re grinding on him, and other times, he lasts quite a long time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): You’ll occasionally use a vibrator, restraints, blindfolds, butt plugs, and whips or ticklers, but it’s not often. You both prefer to focus on getting the other off all on your own. You like to bring in toys sometimes to change things up and heighten sensations.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): He loves to tease. LOVES it. And he wears a big grin on his face while doing it, saying, “how bad do you need my cock, baby,” “beg for it,” “patience,” “good girls wait,” or “you want me to give it to you.” Sometimes he’ll really make you work for it. Your begging gets him off. He knows it’s a bit cruel, but it makes your orgasm even more powerful, so it’s a win-win. He’ll also tease you in public. You’ve had to leave a few family dinners early.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): He’s LOUD. A moaner, groaner, whiner, occasional whimperer, and ALWAYS dirty talking and praising. When he comes, he groans and moans your name. When you tease him and grind on him, he whines and whimpers. He’s a vocal guy and sees making noise as a part of being intimate and letting your guard down with the other person.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): Luigi has asked you a few times to suck him off from under his desk while he’s in meetings. Once he heard whimpering and saw you rubbing your clit while you were sucking him off. He looked under his desk for one second and had to mute his mic and go off camera for a second because it made him cum right then and there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): He said he has a PhD and I believe it. Also in one of his pics where he’s painted at Penn during his freshman year, his bulge is very visible and looks pretty big.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): It’s always there. Luigi is in touch with his body, including his sex drive. It’s increased so much with you, and luckily for him, you’ve got a high sex drive to match.

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): He couldn’t fall asleep without making sure you’ve been taken care of. Cuddling is essential for both of you. He praises you after as well, and if you’re in the mood to talk, he will listen or talk with you. Sex involves aftercare for him, and he needs to make sure you’re satisfied and ready to rest before he can think of sleeping.

[fear-is-truth]

how do you think patrick will react when you try to break things off with him?

breaking up with patrick bateman .ᐟ.ᐟ

tw ; mentions of drug use, homicide

a/n: apologies for the word salad.. my brain is kinda fried from my classes. also he’s such a pretty crier

𝜗ϱ ┆ denial & gaslighting

his immediate reaction would likely be disbelief. the idea of someone rejecting him, particularly someone he views as an extension of his life, would be incomprehensible to him. this disbelief would manifest as condescension and dismissal, accompanied by gaslighting.

“you’re leaving me?” he’d say with a strained smile, eyes narrowing to slits. “that’s ridiculous. you don’t mean that.”

patrick wouldn’t process the emotional weight of your decision, instead assuming that you’re acting irrationally or that something external has influenced you. his need to maintain control would drive him to undermine your perspective, likely accusing you of being under the influence of drugs.

“have you been doing too much cocaine? or maybe those diet pills? you’re not thinking clearly, darling.”

this gaslighting would be less about convincing you and more about reinforcing his own denial. patrick lives in a world where his perception is reality, and your decision to leave disrupts that. denial is his first line of defense.

𝜗ϱ ┆ manipulation & desperation

as the conversation continues, patrick would pivot to emotional manipulation. while he lacks true empathy, he is an expert at imitating emotional responses to “fit in”. he’d beg you to reconsider, framing his argument that appeals to your sense of loyalty or guilt.

“think about everything i’ve done for you. everything we’ve had together. you can’t just walk away.”

if manipulation doesn’t work, his desperation would become more overt. while patrick is typically composed, cracks in his facade could begin to show. you might see a flash of raw panic in his eyes.

“you don’t know what you’re doing. you’re making a mistake.”

𝜗ϱ ┆ begging

patrick would eventually resort to begging, and this is where the irony comes in—remember the time he dumped evelyn with an air of theatrical superiority, telling her that she’s “simply not terribly important” to him.

“you can’t do this to me. please, don’t go. we can work this out—whatever this is, we can fix it. i’ll change.”

of course, he is incapable of real change, and his promises would ring hollow. but the desperation in his voice would feel oddly genuine.

𝜗ϱ ┆“i need to return some videotapes.”

when it becomes clear that he can’t sway you, patrick would retreat, unwilling to let you witness the full extent of his unraveling. maintaining appearances is critical, even in moments of personal crisis. with a curt, almost robotic tone, he’d excuse himself with his signature non sequitur:

“i need to return some videotapes.”

this statement, bizarre and out of place, serves two purposes. first, it allows him to escape the confrontation without completely breaking down in front of you. second, it reaffirms his facade of control.

𝜗ϱ ┆ private despair

once alone, patrick would no longer be able to hold himself together. the breakup would be a complete fracturing of his identity. while he outwardly projects confidence, his inner world is fragile and deeply insecure. your rejection would strip away the validation he relies on to maintain his ego. he’d cry—silent, bitter tears of frustration and humiliation.

𝜗ϱ ┆ homicide as a coping mechanism

but patrick is incapable of processing emotions in a healthy way, so the tears wouldn’t lead to introspection or change. instead, they’d fuel a darker spiral—he’d channel his feelings of loss into compulsive, destructive behaviour. violence is often an outlet for him, and your departure could serve as a catalyst for a spree of homicidal acts. (e.g killing homeless people)

[alexlwrites]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.

You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.

“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”

“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.

“Well, have you?”

Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment. 

And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…

You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.

Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.

As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it. 

With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do. 

Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind. 

And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink. 

“You should slash his tires”

“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”

“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"

"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"

Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good. 

But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.

So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”

Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.

“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”

You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”

“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”

You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.

And boy, did you. 

You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.

—

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.

After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.

You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”

“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

You frowned.

 “Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.

“We have classes together?”

You blinked, impassive.

“We went on a date?”

A head shake.

“We slept together!”

“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”

That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane. 

“How can you not remember?”

“How can I remember something that never happened?”

“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”

You smiled, a trap.

“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending. 

Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”

“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”

You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.

Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”

A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.

“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.

“Finally you said something true.”

Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.

“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”

Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.

When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”

Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”

And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly. 

There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.

When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.

And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.

It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.

That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.

And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.

The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.

And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.

But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.

And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.

He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.

But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.

Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.

And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,

But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.

And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.

°•. ✿ .•°

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[youronlydarlin]

warning: HEAVY ANGST, Simon can't stop crying, Sad Simon, u die sorry :(

Simon holding your corpse and it's just. A mess. Jus' thinkin about him fully breaking down, hunched over your body. Growling out words of venom to anyone who comes close.

He's nearly shot Johnny when he tried to pry you away from him. Good thing Price managed to get some distance between them.

It shakes their very core. Seeing just how vulnerable their lieutenant is. He's shaking, and crying like a little boy. And his sobs sound painful. Like each tear, and breath is being ripped straight out of his throat. It's a heart wrenching sight, and not a single one of them has the courage to speak, or to comfort. And maybe it's their way of showing respect for you. For what's passed.

Meanwhile your Simon is just wracking with sobs. His tears are never ending, and not a moment later does he start to beg. Sounding almost possessed and hysterical as he goes on a tangent.

"My baby....my baby...."

He weeps. Voice cracking, trying to pull you impossibly close to his chest. As if he could share his heartbeat with you. You were his lifeline, and now it's getting harder and harder to breathe without you. His tears trickle down to your face, and it makes it seem like you're crying too. Like you're sorry for leaving so soon, for not being able to say goodbye, for not being able to say 'I love you. The thought shatters Simon and now he's shaking with a new wave of tears dampening his mask.

"Just wake up... please just–just come back..."

He whispers, and he hated how everybody heard. Except you.

a/n: uhhhhh, once again I am practicing my angst, and english skills! This also served as like, a character analysation?? I jus' wanted to see how far I could get at giving a character despair. Think I did pretty well, criticism, and corrections to my grammar are always welcome by the way! And I hope your taking care of yourself, my loves! Till next time!

Yours, truly,

–dolly