#but they def can be and could be really productive

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Someone probs wrote about this before, but it’s absolutely bonkers how Aof’s Bad Buddies and Our Skyy crossover with ATOTS put men’s bisexual/pansexual experiences in conversation with gay experiences.

You get Pran and Phupha and even Tian all existing to some extent as gay characters—and I don’t say that because anyone specifically uses that label (only Tian really goes near there). In fact, I don’t even say that because of the gender they’re attracted to! There’s more to their gayness than that. They’re gay characters because all three of those characters exhibit major signs we associate with effeminacy and, more importantly, its early suppression by others, which leads to the shameful self-repression we see in their present day incarnations. They all have softer sides—music, art, gentleness—that they tuck away privately, and they each have clear examples throughout their stories of people telling them that they need to eliminate or at least hide that part of themselves. And these interests and expressions are not just subtext about sexuality here, they are specific markers we culturally expect to see alongside gayness. And the suppression, or lack there of, of those effeminate qualities is a significant gay milestone.

Pat doesn’t have that experience, though, which I think is genius from a writing and queer theory perspective. The thing about the LGBTQIA+ grouping is that it’s a very potent political grouping, but the experiences of each letter within that acronym are distinct, and often it’s precarious to bring up the differences. However, with Pat’s bisexual characterization, we see how it can be productive. Because Pat’s embodiment, interests, and sexuality contained more aspects that were socially acceptable, he did not experience the same type of suppression as Pran, Tian, and Phupha did early on. He never needed to develop coping mechanisms that involved self-denial. Therefore, he’s comfortable being expressive with his more feminine side and his affections. He doesn’t have the same sense that his sweetness puts him at risk of anything. This openness provides a model for Pran in Bad Buddies and Phupha in ATOTS to explore releasing some of their self-control, anxiety, and shame to share the sentimental parts of themselves (Tian’s whole arc in ATOTS is about coming to terms with this more feminine heart inside of him—RIP Torfun 😢).

I think one of the lessons we’re supposed to glean from Pat is that any person, queer or not, could be that open and comfortable with the full spectrum of gender expression, from fist-fighting to hugging your nong nao doll over a crush, if they were given full support by their fams. Since that perfect world doesn’t quite exist, this is a really unique secondary message we get about the potential of reaching across the divides and growing from other groups within the LGBT acronym. Of course, no character is a stand-in for an entire group. Not all bisexual and pansexual folks escape childhood without suppression of their gendered ways of expressing themselves, and they have unique societal and internal challenges that come with their sexuality. But it’s okay to acknowledge, as Bad Buddy and ATOTS do, that many (but not all of course) exclusively gay men have interests and gendered styles of expressing themselves evident earlier in their lives that make them a target for shit, which leads to a specific loneliness-inducing style of relating to themselves and others. P’Aof and his team, instead of comparing those experiences with bitterness (which is what I’ve often felt inclined to do in the past tbh) asks what possibilities exist when these people can understand one another. It’s also somewhat symbolic of the possibilities that occur when the BL trope of ‘gay only for you’ is, not put in contest with lgbtq media, but instead synthesized—which is what P’ Aof has explicitly aimed to do for his whole career.

[seventh-district]

Sam: "Look at me. Hey- look at me a second. I know. I know you're tough. I know how strong you are. You have every right to be proud of that. But being able to handle somethin' doesn't mean you should have to. Least of all when I'm right here trying to help. Please let me help. If not for you then for me, because I don't like knowin' you're hurtin', especially when there's somethin' I can do about it."

Me, shaking my head, fighting back literal tears: "B-but it's gonna give you another headache!"

[welcometogrouchland]

IMPORTANT UPDATE FOR BATMAN AND ROBIN (2023) FANS!!!...he eat a burger [ID in alt]

(taken from Nicola Cizmesija's insta, who's on art for B&R issues #5 and #6)

[donnapalude]

this has potential to nuke my notes, so under the cut.

rewatching spn with an idea of the fandom landscape is so funny to me, bc i don't really find wincest and destiel that irreconcilable. sam & dean are the most canon-grounded end-game to me bc overall their bond is the backbone of the show. but there was always space to explore other relationships within that. and (given that, as always, i am a deanjohn truther) i find destiel interesting mostly in s4-s6, where castiel is presented as a stand-in authority figure that inspires in dean both terror and hope. there is something incredibly wrenching to me in dean absorbing the message he is cherished and loved by god and by this immortal all-powerful angel watching over him. that he is fundamentally good, that he deserves to be saved. that the world can return to be a simple and safe place if he just does his part. the almost irresistible appeal in the fantasy that all it would take would be melting back into that mindless obedience, into the simple conditionality of earning his keep by executing orders, and not feeling any conflict bc he trusts those orders to be good. and this time, it would stick. this time, he would always be warm and protected and cared for.

and how hearbreaking it is that it was always just a fantasy. even before any disillusionment towards god and towards the idea itself that there is anything good at all in blind faith, castiel's attraction for dean is framed as a corruption. while dean chases acceptance and absolution and safety from god through castiel, he is inevitably causing his fall, therefore disquilifying him from the role. their bond is not about god's plan after all: dean is once again being coveted for the sexual services he can provide. what does it say about him that even a sexless entity on a mission from god sees him and thinks of fucking him? what does it say about him that he caused his father to fall to hell and an angel to fall to earth? he was never a child and he can never return to being one. there is no protection for him and no father that can love him without first branding him.

all arguments stating the value of endgame-destiel for dean is about him "being saved by an angel" crumble in symbolism before this process. castiel as an authority and figure of Good that can provide credible answers on it stops existing after s4. in fact, dean becomes more of a moral compass for castiel than the opposite. and while that's an interesting dynamic and basis enough for castiel to love him, i don't see it generating in dean the same potential for awe-struck devotion that felt so gutting to me when he first approached castiel asking about salvation.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

fascinating lens on taylor's goings on in s6 there re: Romance. epic win that they have rian turn them down but i'm also really not sure why they did. oh you know, rian who's always defined by being so prudent [montage of actually pretty much everything seemingly defining rian has been pretty anti prudent] like ok w/e

but we start out with taylor Particularly Unmotivated By Work and instead watching a The Bachelor beach proposal which involves extasis through this Reality(tm) pastiche of romance. i am assuming. wherein the journey Ends with this transcendent all-consuming joy upon the realization of said Romance for one contestant. then when their somehow still bestie mafee (relevant tangents about how all taylor's relationships seem to involve their having an approach where they have low standards like "well but i guess this is all i can get / expect" including that they can't even necessarily expect shit they like/enjoy/are at all supported by, while readily accepting whatever blame/reproach from others) is like "gee but are you really happy" they're apparently inspired to pursue happiness by pursuing romance. which they seem to consider is possible only through rian, intriguing here when the entire basis of their dynamic seems to be [trapped in work hell together] like boy we have nothing outside our jobs? i sure hope we can be Everything to each other then :) and how it's even more baffling that rian is completely unbaffled by this development when you might operate on some assumptions like "you should have ever seemed to enjoy any interactions you've ever had" to consider choosing more vulnerability and more time / effort spent on this relationship, and "you also don't need to have Found Fault with someone / otherwise have some grievances or dislike of them to not want to date them" especially if rian's apparent sense of responsibility for taylor's theoretical negative feelings about rejection supposedly doesn't involve thinking about any power dynamics, she just feels the need to repeatedly reassure them she'd actually Love to date or have sex but she's just so set on not dating through work, b/c of the complications, that she's never considered not having casual sex with bosses and also never mentioned this stance to turn down winston nor done anything but revel in how he might feel about even being rejected as a conversational partner. too prudent to mention it. certainly also a relevant matter that it Need Not Be Explained to anyone that winston for one is excluded as a potential Romantic partner for pretty much everyone i guess. whilest as this potential mirror to taylor, he's not only considering specifically rian w/"we're similar; let's hang out; i'd like to have sex maybe even" (though winston's sexuality, like his communicative capacities, is also simply Not Allowed) but also seems to be like "i guess this is all i can get / expect" or hanging on for a long time to the possibility of Otherwise at his own expense or taking blame / whatever pretty egregious treatment like. taylor being willing to talk to wendy still is akin to winston still being willing to talk to rian. though maybe that's changed by the end of s6; it'd be very warranted after the pretty make or break [rian & winston Share An Interest; hang out outside work about it] moment there and also after Everything Else on its own, just like how it'd be very warranted if taylor expecting Nothing Better from wendy could turn into their hardly being willing to interact

anyways, sure is fortunate for taylor (or is it???) that Work becomes more enriching for them suddenly, and through someone with whom they have this promising personal dynamic with, a Peer with whom, in fact, they do both seem to find reward in interacting with each other / want and choose to do so, imagine, while [reiterating for emphasis]: they are both finding reward in interacting and feeling Complementary rather than only seeing exactly themself in each other, while having this respect for each other and flexibility and knowing they don't Have to work together, and may not always be doing so.

but most to the point it sure is something that the season starts off with taylor being dissatisfied with their work situation and responding by not being at work and instead watching people be overjoyed about their (also, relevantly, Peak Normal Correct Cishet) romance, though they don't outright claim to straightforwardly enjoy this. then they Do outright claim to us repeatedly, if ever begrudgingly, that everything rian does is worthy &/or sympathetic (and totally comprehensible and consistent so as to believably retain any sense of Character....) while every time they interact, it's a business meeting and one or both of them is unhappy about some part of it. but then once taylor's asked to think about their happiness Beyond Work they apparently are simply motivated to go ask someone out, and it may as well be rian For Lack Of A Better Option really, but then there's the wrench of "for some reason rian is unsurprised and not at all put off by this, or even just somewhat confused" and "for some reason rian's like 'sorry but no. fr im soooo sorry'" with these perspectives of [happiness Outside Work = romance] and [someone deemed Objectively Worthy = you'd of course at least consider romance, or else you must think actually they're Unworthy in some way, or have some more general Reason you'd reject others categorically in just the same way] (rian rejecting winston for unworthiness so much that she doesn't even need to bother actually telling him as much; rejecting taylor for [i don't date through work] with followups to reassure them it's Not the unworthiness) (that on and off paper winston & taylor have no reason to not be kissing but i think we can assume that won't happen, b/c billions itself may also assume we understand that [winston is unworthy] is just true. &/or that anyone Worthy understands as much)

so hoping that taylor has Some kind of enriching lasting relationship with philip, truly, which was the hopes for winston and rian but the updated hope is his enriching lasting disengagement with rian, f

[celowosc]

   /  Anyhow, Kadoc’s eyes might look tired, but there is a decisiveness; like a conviction to them too

[phagodyke]

almost explored the entirety of the nationals discography.. I've come so far from spending a whole year only listening to sleep well beast <3

[applyjuicee]

hey Google what does it mean if the person you like barely speaks to you but asked you to be a reference for a job and wears the bracelet you made them? asking for a friend of course

[whatsnewalycat]

RUTHLESS

Stepdad Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 5.1k+

Warnings: DDDNE, literally just a fucked up stepdad/mom's bf fantasy, could read "mom" as tess but I don't name her or assign physical features to her or reader, post-outbreak, reader is def over 18 but not by much so yeah age gap, NON-CONSENSUAL, power imbalance, unethical d/s dynamic, slapping, spanking, punishment, orgasm delay/denial, humiliation, degradation, face fucking, anal sex, little to no aftercare

A/N: Category is "That old man would fucking never... but if he did..." Please be mindful of the warnings and don't read if it might trigger you. Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

------

Within the secluded world of your big noise-canceling headphones, you scan through silence on the CB radio, pausing for a few seconds on each channel before moving on to the next. 

Channel 11: Nothing. 

Channel 12: Zilch. 

Channel 13: Nada. 

When you turn the dial to channel 14, though, you pick up chatter and start transcribing. 

Channel 14 7/17/22 19:56

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew? Over. 

Got enough for the kids? Over. 

And leftovers. Over. 

I’ll be at Margie’s around supper time. Over and out. 

The air goes silent.

After a minute goes by with no follow up transmissions, you glance at the clock. 7:58. Almost time for check-in. 

You tune the radio to channel 32 and review your transcription. 

Many people speak in code, encrypting their messages in seemingly benign conversations. To the untrained ear, they’re normal exchanges, people making small talk about jobs and rations and kids. Goodnight calls and check-ins that use predictable inquiries to convey messages. 

—got a bundle of carrots today. Budaydas, onions, too. Want me to come by tomorrow and make some stew?

Most of it you can translate from memory. The drug traffickers that use channel 14 have frequented the same lingo for years. Likely because of the high turnover rate of personnel. There’s less confusion that way. Confusion in communication raises more alarm bells for eavesdroppers than using the same code words across the board. 

You flip through your cipher for channel 14, searching for budaydas, but find nothing. Scrunching your nose up, you say the word out loud, “Budaydas. Buh-day-das.” 

Carrots, onions, budaydas in a stew. 

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, then jot down your translation, muttering under your breath, “Fucking Boston accents.” 

(Someone) picked up tranquilizers, benzos (budaydas = potatoes), and opioids. The caller wants to meet up and trade as previously agreed. 

The rest of it is easy enough to interpret without the use of a cipher. You probably don’t need to write down the translation, but do it in case your mom or Joel need to reference the notes at a later date. 

There’s enough to distribute product across their network of dealers in Boston QZ, plus more to stockpile. They’ll meet at their hub in Area 1, Margaret St, at midnight. 

You exhale through slack lips, glancing at the clock as it ticks over to 8:00, then pick up the microphone and hold down the speak button. 

“Radio check.” 

A few seconds go by before you hear a familiar gruff voice crackle over the radio waves into your ears, “Loud and clear. Over.”

Your nostrils flare when you hear him. Joel Miller. The bane of your existence. Your de facto stepfather, only because you don’t really remember life without him by your mom’s side. 

This isn’t to say he’s a father figure to you by any means. The two of you never shared the kind of heartwarming paternal bonding moments you read about in books. That would require warmth and vulnerability, which he distinctly lacks. 

Once, when you were maybe 11 or 12, you made the mistake of calling him Dad. The way he looked at you made you feel like dirt. Fire burning behind his dark eyes, he corrected you with one stern syllable that taught you your place: “Joel.” 

You sit up straighter and take a moment to gather yourself before responding. 

“Did you get your message from Uncle Paul? Over.”

“I did. Over.” 

“How’s the weather in Kansas City? Over.” 

“Cloudy. Over.” 

Fuck. 

You swallow around nothing, then clear your throat and ask, “And Grandma, how’s she? Over.”

“Fine, just busy is all.”

You exhale a sigh of relief that melts the tension between your shoulders. Joel continues. 

“Anything new with you? Over.” 

Tapping your fingers on your notes, you answer, “Rumor has it the market is gonna be busy tomorrow. Harvesting time, I guess. Other than that, same old same old. What about you? Staying out of trouble? Over.”

It feels strange, having a casual conversation with him like this. Even if it’s just a data exchange dressed up as a casual conversation. 

There’s a long pause, then he says, “Fine, yeah. Well. See you soon. Over ‘n’ out.” 

Stiff as a board. Cold as ice. Joel Miller, everyone. Round of applause. 

You snort, rolling your eyes as you unplug the headphones and toss them on the table. It takes a moment for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings. 

The dingy two-bedroom apartment is quiet and still. Outside, the setting sun casts the world in a dark golden haze. A FEDRA patrol vehicle roars down the street, broadcasting the curfew alert from a loudspeaker. Faint shouting from a few units down momentarily piques your curiosity before you decide it’s none of your business. 

You stand from the chair and reach your hands above your head, lungs expanding in a powerful yawn, then take a lap around the apartment to stretch your legs. 

Something catches your eye when you walk by the entry. A note slipped under the doorframe. On the outer fold, your name is written in a familiar scrawl. 

Your heart skips a beat. 

You pick it up and unfold the paper, revealing an invitation. 

I miss you. Come over when you’re done surfing the airwaves. XO, Bert. 

Warmth trickles down between your thighs. A smile spreads across your face. You glance up at the door, then to the CB radio and scanner on the desk. 

Indecision churns in your belly. 

You are explicitly forbidden from leaving the apartment while your mom and Joel are out on runs. A safety precaution you’ve protested dozens of times to no avail. They expect you to stay put and warn them if you notice any signs of potential danger. In return, you receive a cut of the profit and a roof over your head. Security, in short. Which is more than most could say. 

That being said… You break this rule from time to time, when the circumstances allow. 

Like when the Fireflies and FEDRA have been quiet for weeks and there are no smoke signals in sight. Like when you’re five nights into a seven day seclusion and think you might die of boredom if you don’t get the fuck out of here. Like when your boyfriend slips a note under the door and asks you to come over. 

You look down at the paper in your hands, re-reading the words I miss you. 

Fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? 

—

Just before midnight, you wander down the hallway to your unit, jelly knees wobbling with each step. As you absentmindedly trace your tingling lips, still puffy from kissing, you unlock the door and push it open, then frown. 

The lights are on. 

They were off when you left, you’re sure of it. When you step further into the apartment, your foot catches on something. A backpack. This faint buzzing starts behind your ears as you blink at it, wishing it would go away.

Motherfu—

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

Your stomach plummets to the floor when you hear his voice. A thick knot of panic tightens around your windpipe as you look up to find Joel standing just a few paces away in the living room. 

He stares you down, dark eyes glowing with fury, and questions you again, “Where were you?” 

“N-nowhere.” 

The blatant lie sits sour on your tongue. His lips purse, so you fumble out another, “I went for a walk.” 

“A walk,” he repeats, tone disbelieving, “You went on a walk after curfew wearing that?” 

You look down at your clothing. A short skirt and tank top. Your throat bobs in a guilty gulp, then you meet his eyes again and nod. 

“And when did you leave on this ‘walk?’”

Your mind whirs as you try to come up with an answer. It feels like a trap. You try to calculate an answer that will provide minimal blowback. 

“I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes ago?” 

“Try again.” 

The electricity humming through you takes on a red, frustrated edge, and you snip, “I don’t fucking know, dude. It was a while ago, I wasn’t paying attention. Where’s my mom?” 

“Your mom sent me here to make sure you were alive,” he says pointedly, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you, “We’ve been tryin’a reach you for three hours. I got here an hour ago. That’s a helluva lot longer than twenty minutes, ain’t it?” 

Shrinking into yourself, you search his face. Jaw set, eyes boring into yours. Waves of anger roll off him as he approaches, and you remember all those rumors you heard about him on the radio. The fear you heard in grown men’s voices when they recounted run-ins with that bitch and her guard dog. 

You remember what Bert said about him: He’s fucking ruthless.

“You aren’t supposed to leave the apartment when we’re outside the QZ.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why did you?” 

Your heart thuds against your ribcage. 

Joel has never directed this kind of outright anger towards you. Sternness, sure. Contempt, maybe. But this is different. You’re in fucking trouble. 

There has to be a way out of this conversation.

You drop your gaze to the floor and ask, “Is my mom ok? Did something happen to her?”

“Don’t change the subject.” 

Righteous indignation straightens your spine and wills you to meet his eyes again, “I’m not saying shit until you tell me what happened to her.” 

“She sprained her ankle, but she’s fine. She’s safe,” he tells you, then takes another step forward, “Why did you leave?” 

You respond by rolling your eyes. 

“Answer the question.” 

With an irritated sigh, you search his face, then tell him, “You don’t know what it’s like to be here. Isolated for days or weeks at a time. I fucking hate it. It’s so lonely and boring, I feel like I’m losing my mind—”

“Oh, cry me a goddamn river.” 

You scowl at him, staring him down, “Fuck you.” 

“Watch your fucking mouth, you disrespectful little shit.” 

Red flashes through your field of vision, hot and angry and defiant. You gather the moisture in your mouth on your tongue and spit at him. It splats on his cheek. 

His face twists up with fury for one second before he charges, closing the distance between you. The impact pushes your back to the door with a thud. 

He grabs your jaw, fingers digging hard into the soft flesh of your cheeks. His eyes are hot coals, burning into you. The muscles in his jaw twitch, nostrils flaring, breath shaky. 

When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what it’s like out there.” 

“No, because you won’t let me fucking leave—”

“You should be fucking grateful, you know that? Being here is a fucking cake walk. Your mom ‘n’ I have seen things, done things—horrible things you couldn’t even imagine,” he husks, searching your face, grip tightening so hard it makes you whine. “We keep you safe, and all we ask is that you stay put and keep a lookout for us when we’re gone.” 

Even if you wanted to respond, you can’t. The vice grip he has on your face renders your mouth immobile. 

All you can do is stare back at him, studying his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Full lips pinched thin as he glowers at you. 

You notice how close his broad body is to yours. The heat radiating off his tightly-wound muscles onto your skin. His ragged breath scatters across your face and wafts into your open mouth. You taste the bootleg whiskey on his breath and your pulse jumps. 

Warmth drips down your spine and pools at the center of you, a horrifying sensation that makes you squirm.

“Were you with your little boyfriend? Hmm?” he asks, eyes darting around your face, trailing down to your body for a moment before returning, “That boy downstairs? Figure you musta been, on account of how you’re dressed.” 

You don’t say anything. You can’t. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not really a question. 

“Abandoning your post to go out and get fucked, is that it?” 

A whimper slips from your throat as heat swells beneath your skin. 

He wouldn’t be treating you like this if your mom was here. He wouldn’t say these things or be this close to you. Knowing this, you understand that whatever is happening right now is wrong. 

You also understand that you like it. 

You hate that you like it, and hate him for making you like it, but you like it all the same. 

Letting go of your face, he demands, “Answer me.” 

“Fuck you.” 

Before you even realize what’s happening, you feel a sharp, hot sting on your cheek and yelp.

He fucking slapped you. 

“Wrong answer.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you retort, bringing your hand to the welt forming on your cheek, “I’m gonna tell her.” 

“Yeah? You gonna tell her I found you sneaking in at midnight, too? That you compromised our safety to go out ‘n’ get dicked down?” 

You harden your gaze on him, lips pressing together with disdain. 

“She wouldn’t like that, would she?” he asks, the smallest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “She’d probably kick you out on your ass.” 

“She wouldn’t. You guys need me.” 

“And you need us,” he counters, searching your face, “So what do we do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Hmm?” 

A dozen inappropriate images flash through your head, each more lurid than the last. An electric, tingling feeling shoots out from the base of your spine and works through your extremities. 

You swallow hard and shake your head, “I won’t do it again.” 

“If I don’t punish you, you will. You’re fucking disrespectful. Selfish. You need discipline.” 

Again, a flash of frustration taints the world red. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scoff, “Just because you’re fucking my mom doesn’t mean you’re my dad. I am an adult and you are not the boss of me.” 

He sighs and takes a step back, planting his hands on his hips. His gaze drifts around the empty apartment, jaw gnashing back and forth for a moment before he returns to twist the deadbolt closed and grab your arm. 

“What the f—” you swat at him and dig your heels into the floor, but it does nothing as he drags you by his steel grip, pulling you stumbling along behind him into the living room. 

He sits on the couch and forces you to lay over his bent knees, one big hand securing your wrists behind your back while the other flattens against the swell of your ass cheek. As soon his touch leaves, it returns, a sharp snap tingling across your skin. 

Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe the chaos throbbing through you. 

“You’re right, you’re an adult. And I’m not your dad,” he asserts, lifting his hand. Your whole body clenches in anticipation. “But as long as you live here, I am the fucking boss of you,” he slaps your ass again, “Do you understand me?” 

It surprises you when you hear yourself sob, “I’m sorry—”

He does it again and again, hissing, “Yeah, you’re fucking sorry now, aren’t you?” 

Each firm slap he lays down is firm, unflinching. Ruthless. 

It overwhelms your senses and becomes the only thing you feel. The universe world narrows down to just his palm on your skin. The reliable and exquisite pain ringing through you. Smack. Smack. Smack. 

Every time he draws his hand back, you don’t think you can handle it again. But you do. 

Soon, you start to crave the impact. His skin on your skin. You can’t feel the start or end of it. It’s just him and you. Pain and pleasure. Sobs and moans, all blended together. 

Far away, you hear him chide you for not wearing underwear beneath your skirt. Then he asks, “Are you fucking enjoying this?” 

Too ashamed to admit it, all you do is whimper in response.

Smack. 

He sucks in breath through his teeth, then grabs the meat of your ass and rumbles, “You do, don’t you?” 

When his grasp on your wrists releases, you pull your elbows beneath you and look over your shoulder at him, watching as he spreads your cheeks apart and stares down between your legs. You’re probably shiny and wet with the evidence of your desire. 

His lips form an ‘o’ when he kneads you back together and spreads you apart again. The motion teases all your hungry nerves and makes you moan. It feels so fucking good. 

You realize then that he’s grown stiff against your belly, hard cock leaving no mistake. 

“You fucking like it, too, don’t you?” you ask him, your voice breathy and amused, “I can feel how turned on you are.” 

Slipping a hand between your bodies, you press against his strained zipper. His cock jumps at the contact, and he groans, dragging his fingers through your slick lips. 

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you nod in approval. He works your clit in steady, firm circles while you smooth your hand along the big bulge in his pants, letting out a string of whines at the bubbling pleasure inside you. 

You lose yourselves here, both of you squirming and panting and petting the other. So wrapped up with how fucking good it feels that you forget to feel ashamed. 

When he smacks your ass now, you croak through clenched teeth, “Fuck yes.”

He likes that you like it. You can tell by the way he groans and throbs beneath you. This knowledge inspires your pulse to pound and your muscles to tense. 

“Joel,“ you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his heavy-lidded gaze, “I’m gonna fucking come, don’t stop—”

“Did I give you permission to do that?” he asks, slowing his touch to a torturous rhythm, “Did I say you could come?” 

You shake your head and whine, “Please, Joel, please—”

“Are you sorry for what you did?” 

“I’m sorry—”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“No no no, I won’t, I promise, I’ll be a good girl—”

He groans, tossing his head back as you frantically rub at the bulge in his pants. Your palm chafes against the stiff denim, but you don’t stop. You would do this for eternity if it meant he’d let you find your release. 

“Oh yeah, you’ll be a good fucking girl for me?” he asks, touching you just soft and slow enough to twist your nerves ragged, but keep your orgasm out of reach. 

“I will, I promise. Please, Joel,” you whisper, holding his gaze as your face gets all hot, “Please make me come, please please—”

“Show me you mean it.” 

He doesn’t need to explain what he means. While he takes off his jeans, you scramble off his lap and kneel between his spread knees. His eyes stay glued to yours as you slide your hands up his thighs. 

Batting your lashes at him, you wrap your lips around his swollen cock. He fills your mouth. He feels smooth but hard against your tongue. He tastes salty and heady and when you inhale the musk of him, you moan around his girth. 

Nodding, he anchors his grip behind your head and bucks his hips, forcing his dick down your throat. When you gag, he doesn’t let up, but thrusts into the sensation, grunting, “Fuck. Yes,” before letting you pull off, gasping for air.

You wrap your hands around him, all shiny and slick with drool, and pump his length for a moment while you catch your breath, then take him in your mouth again. 

This time, you sit up taller. You relish the stretch of your lips as you bob up and down. Savor the tug of his fingers curled tight in your hair. Memorize the sound of his huffs and grunts as he fucks your face. The wet squelching gurgle of his cock squeezing down your windpipe. 

“Look at me,” he orders, so you do. 

He’s all blurred from your watering eyes, but you can make out the dark irises and stay locked onto them while relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him easier. When you make an enthusiastic humming noise, he groans. It’s wanton and lusty and lights a fire in your belly. 

Joel has never treated you this hard or soft. His regard for you has always been callous. Closed-off. Indifferent. With your assistance on the radio, he treated you like a tool for survival. Before that, or even in-between smuggling runs, he treated you like some kind of a household pet he had little regard for. Your mom’s responsibility, never his. 

For years and years, you ached for more. 

When you were younger, you used to sit up nights and wonder if he’d ever consider you his daughter. He wouldn’t, though. He won’t. 

But this is something. 

Distinctly, you want to please him. Be the best he ever had. You want to sink your claws into his brain and leave your mark for years to come. You want him to look at you after this and feel a flicker of desire and self-loathing. You want him to think of you when he fucks your mom. You want him to hate how you made him feel. 

When you pull off him and start to work his soaked length with your hands, you pant, “Does that feel good? Am I doing a good job sucking your cock?” 

“It’s good,” he nods, lets out a groan that pinches his eyes shut, then meets your gaze again, “So fucking good, Jesus Christ. Is this what you were out doing tonight? Sucking cock?” 

“Not tonight.” 

“But he fucked you, didn’t he? That boy?” 

You nod, stroking him slower. His eyelids flutter. 

“Did he fuck your pussy or your ass?” 

The question sends a jolt through your middle. You recall the sex you had with Bert. Barely an hour has gone by since he pulled out of your cunt to shoot his load on the mattress, but it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“My pussy,” you answer, then gather a thick, hot wad of saliva on your tongue and spit on his cock. You spread it with a slow churning motion, watching Joel’s face twist up with pleasure. 

“Were you bein’ smart about it at least?” he asks, studying you, “We don’t need you getting knocked up.” 

“He pulled out,” you shrug. 

He grunts in acknowledgment, then sits up and pulls on your arm to join him on the couch, “C’mere.” 

You follow his guidance, lying back on the cushions as he strips off his shirt. 

The only times you’ve seen him shirtless were accidental and slightly embarrassing for both of you. But now, you notice how his smooth chest glows in the dim light. Now, when you drink in the sight of his big arms and broad shoulders, heat bubbles up your spine.

While you pull your tank top off over your head, he tugs your skirt down your thighs, asking, “You ever taken it up the ass?” 

You shake your head. 

His eyebrows jump a little like he’s surprised. A sadistic kind of smirk plays across his lips as he pushes your knees up to your chest, then spreads you apart, the head of him nudging at your backdoor. 

He doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t ask if you want it this way, or if you want him to be the first. He doesn’t even warn you about the initial shock and pain you experience when he rocks his hips forward and breaches the tight hole. 

You yelp and try to lurch away from the sharp pain, but he grabs you and holds you there. 

Sitting up on your elbows, you cry, “That fucking hurts, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a punishment if it didn’t hurt a little, would it?” he murmurs, disinterested, watching your asshole stretch to accommodate the head of his cock. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Like being stabbed or split open. At first, you hate it. You sputter and gasp and shake your head as he pushes himself in further and further. 

Then he pauses the invasion, releasing his steel grip on you to tilt your chin up and meet his gaze, “Just relax.”

His eyes burn into yours, making your pulse jump. You bear witness to his heaving chest and parted lips and feel him twitch inside you. Sparks sizzle across your body, but you still scowl at him. 

“It hurts, I don’t like it.“ 

“It’ll get better, you just gotta relax,” he coaches.

“Why can’t we just have normal sex?”

He grunts, thinks about it for a moment, then tells you, “First off, this is not normal sex,” he points between your chest and his, “This will not be a normal thing, you understand?” 

It stings a little, if you’re being honest. But you nod, “I understand.” 

Nodding, he licks his lips. He throbs inside you, hips jerking a little in reaction. This time, the friction feels good enough to make you whimper. 

“Second, we don’t need another mouth to feed around here,” he says, searching your face, “We’re stretched thin enough as is. You know what I mean?”

“But if you—”

“Pulling out can still stick. This way’s tried and true, trust me.” 

“Trust you,” you scoff under your breath and roll your eyes. 

“What’s that?” 

You meet his hardened gaze, feeling emboldened enough to ask, “Do you fuck my mom in the ass?” 

“That’s none of your business,” he warns. 

“So, what, you can interrogate me about my sex life, but I can’t do the same?” 

“That’s right,” he barks, “Know why?” 

In response, you glare at him. 

He takes this moment of bitter silence to drag his knuckles up your slick, swollen lips. The light touch branches out beneath your skin and makes your heart pound. You gasp a little, but try to hide it. He clocks it immediately. 

“There we go,” he murmurs under his breath, almost as an aside, smoothing the pad of his thumb in soft circles on your clit. Pleasure churns beneath the touch, hot and hungry for more. When you whimper, Joel’s eyes go wild for a second, then he says, “I am the fucking boss of you, understand?” 

You swallow a moan as he arches forward and starts to roll his hips. It feels better now. Good. Fucking amazing, almost. Electric and gooey. He fills you so completely with each thrust, you wonder how you can even breathe. 

“So if I tell you to be home, that’s where you’ll be. If I ask you where you’ve been, who you were with, what you were doing—you tell me the truth. Understand?” 

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand.” 

“You don’t get to ask me about your mom. You don’t tell your mom. You don’t sneak out to go get fucked by some boy who doesn’t even know what to do with you—”

“Holy shit, Joel I’m gonna—” you gasp at the pressure building at the base of your spine, spreading thick and hot and delicious across your body. 

“And you don’t come without my fucking permission. Understand?” 

“I understand I understand,” you cry, literal tears burning behind your eyes at the ache of trying to keep the ecstasy at bay, “Please can I come, please please please—”

“Are you sorry?” 

“I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again—”

“That’s right, you’ll never fucking do it again. Why’s that?”

“You’re the boss,” you beg, your voice so raw and pleading it sounds foreign. He pounds into you now, a wet slap that echoes off the apartment walls. It takes all your concentration to keep your pleasure contained, to not spill over the edges, but you hear yourself babble somewhere far away. 

“You’re the fucking boss. I’m sorry I’m sorry I won’t disobey you again I’ll be a good girl I’ll do anything just please give me permission to come daddy please please please—”

When he moans, loud and depraved, it just about breaks you, but you manage to keep your resolve long enough for him to pant, “Go ahead, let it go.” 

With a choked sob, you untether your pleasure and allow it to expand, growing hot and wide and unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Every muscle in your body tenses up as the sensation swallows you whole, then spits you back up, sending wave after wave across your body.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” he grunts, taking his hand from your clit to hold your knees down and fuck your ass hard and fast and ruthless.

It surprises you when heat starts stretching out from the middle of you again. Your heart starts to race as the feeling grows. 

“Ffffuuuuck,” you whimper, “That feels so fucking good—”

“I told you, didn’t I?” 

“You did you did holy shit,” you meet his eyes and nod frantically, “I love it I love it—please can you come in my ass?” 

“Is that what you want? Want me to come in your tight little asshole?” 

A feral noise escapes you, and you sob, “Yes—”

“Do you wanna come too?”

“Yes—oh my god, yes, please please please daddy—”

“Come with me, baby.”

You let the feeling overtake you again, gasping out, “thank you thank you thank you,” as it takes you strong and fast. Pleasure pulses through your body, causing you to convulse and strain against Joel’s grip spreading you open. He releases a moan from his belly and gives you a hard, deep thrust that he holds for a shuddering moment. After emptying himself inside you, he pulls out, falling back to his seat on the couch. 

Chest heaving, you prop yourself up on your elbows and study him. He pinches his eyes shut and catches his breath before meeting your gaze again. 

His expression goes soft long enough for something dangerous to flicker between you. 

Then he turns away and starts getting dressed. 

“Get yourself together, I’m gonna go get your mom.” 

As you sit up, you fold your legs into your body and watch him button his shirt. 

“Joel—”

He looks at you, searching your face expectantly, but your brain goes static and you’re not even sure what you were going to say. 

“This stays between us, understand?” 

His tone is firm but gentle. You swallow hard and nod, “I understand.” 

Nodding, he glances down at your lips, then back to your eyes. He rises to his feet to leave, but before he does, he leans down to press a kiss into your forehead. 

“Good girl.” 

[ NEXT PART ]

[cloudcountry]

I sent my request via dms but I'm still sending an ask for the sake of it, woops

Remember to hydrate and unshrimp :}

SUMMARY: idia doesn't how how to react when you show up at his door late at night and reveal something as earth shattering as your most recent breakup.

COMMENTS: we talked about this in dms but i hope you like the finished product!! <3

I CANT TELL IF THIS OR ANGST OR FLUFF. MAN.

reading this against its def angst oops

idia has issues but you're gonna get him through them trust 💪

The sound of mindless clicking, fans whirring, and Idia’s steady breathing are the only sounds that can be heard this late at night. It’s not that the residents of Ignihyde are sleeping—no, they’re all tucked away in their rooms, either tinkering with new tech or in the same position Idia is now. His lower back starts to ache from his slouched position in his chair, and so he straightens out his back to ease the pain. His spine cracks once, twice, thrice before settling down, and Idia promptly falls back into his old posture.

He briefly hears your voice in his mind, a reminder to sit up straight and not surf the web too late. He blinks slowly, briefly considering obeying your imaginary command, before he rationalizes using his PC more because you’re not actually here, you’re out with your boyfriend right now.

Or so he thinks.

It’s as though he summoned you, your knock on his door, a secret knock that only you would ever use. Idia insisted on a precaution like that so he’d know when it was safe to open the door and when it wasn’t. So far you hadn’t abused the privilege, never using it when you had friends with you. In fact, Idia was fairly certain you’d created a new knocking pattern recently when you had friends with you, just so he could know it was okay to respond but he didn’t have to open the door if he didn’t want to.

It's the knock that tells him you're alone.

So this time, he wants to.

He stands up, pushing his gamer chair to the side as his joints creak from being held in one position for far too long. He stalks over to the door, shaking hands reaching towards the doorknob. Because of your boyfriend, he’s always kept his feelings about you under wraps, wanting your happiness first and foremost. Besides, in what world would anyone be interested in him? He wouldn’t even want to associate with you like that, the thought of dragging you into his darkness was too much.

The doorknob turns and his door creaks open, a sliver of light spilling into his room until the rest of it is blocked by you. Idia opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing at his door this late, especially since you have a boyfriend and if anyone should be hanging out with you this late it really should be him and—

And—

And you have never looked more serious. It makes the words die in his throat, his lips parted like a fool.

“Do you have time to talk?” you ask softly, shifting from foot to foot in your pajamas and oh Great Seven, did you walk across campus like that? There were so many bugs out at night and snakes too, and what if you tripped because you couldn’t see where you were going? You came alone, WHY would you come alone this late? You could have gotten hurt—

His hands are twitching as your eyes drift down towards them, watching silently as they shake towards and away from you, like he wants to touch you but isn’t sure if he can. You initiate, taking his hands in yours and gently pushing him back into his room, nudging the door shut with your foot as quietly as possible.

“Um...what are you doing here this late?” Idia asks softly, his hands in yours, still twitching restlessly.

“I had to tell you something. It’s nothing bad on your part, before you start overthinking. It’s something to do with my boyfriend, now ex.” you say, each word purposeful and slow, like you’re picking your words very carefully in your sleepy haze.

“You broke up?” Idia murmurs, ignoring the way his heart jumps in his throat. 

Of course he’s happy you’re single now. Of course he is. But that doesn't mean now is the time to start fantasizing about actually dating you. Oh who is he kidding, he wouldn’t be starting that, he’s been doing that. The last thing he needs to his feelings getting in the way and making things hard for you, you’ve been his best friend for years now, ever since he came to NRC you’ve always been in his corner, even though sometimes you don’t get to see each other that often and he’s not going to fuck this up because he likes you more than he should, no way is he going to fuck this up—

“Yeah. We broke up a few weeks ago.” you say, moving your hands from his and pressing them into your thighs.

“Oh.” Idia says dumbly.

You smile weakly, glancing around his room before gesturing to his bed. Idia feels his heart in his throat again—it’s the only place with room to sit, yeah, but it’s so messy and oh Great Seven what if his manga makes you think he’s weird and you never want to speak to him again.

You don’t even spare a glance at his mess. You just sit down and clench your hands in your lap, watching him as he sits down next to you. His eyes land on your hands, white knuckled and shaking, and it squeezes his heart when he thinks about just what your boyfriend could have done to hurt you like this.

Your ex, he means. Your ex. He’s never going to be your boyfriend again, even if he apologizes, because as much as you’re hurting right now Idia knows you'll only come back stronger for it.

It’s one of the reasons why he admires you so much.

“It...wasn’t something I was planning on broadcasting. And as far as I know, he hasn’t told anyone either. Not that he’s good at telling people things.” you remark bitterly, a frown twisting your lips.

“Was he not talking to you?” Idia asks, balling his hands into fists in his lap much like you.

“No. He wasn’t.” you sigh, looking down at his floor, “He wasn’t at all.”

His room grows silent again, but Idia hopes you don’t hear the gears in his brain turning. He wants to make things better for you, he wants to make sure all the time you have left with each other is good for you, he wants to make sure you can live the rest of your life happy with the knowledge that you’ll never have to think about this guy.

He wants you to be happy so he can let you go after you two become seniors.

“Is...there anything I can do?” he mumbles, eyes darting around the room for a distraction, “Um, I made a mini planetarium projection for Ortho since he likes the stars so much and I think I have it somewhere in here—”

He knows exactly where it is. Like he’d ever forget.

“—I have some games, um...which ones do you like? I probably have something—”

He’s fairly certain you’d love the game sitting on the bottom shelf of his desk. It reminds him of you whenever he plays it.

“—or would you like to watch anime? Read a manga? You can leave too, that’s okay, just let me walk you home so you don’t get hurt—”

Not again, at least. But he’ll do anything to keep you here with him.

You cut him off with a small giggle, your balled up fists now pressed up against your face in relaxed palms, covering your mouth as your eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I’d love to stay. Thank you, Idia.” you smile softly and move your hands away from your mouth, and Idia feels his heart jump into his throat again because of course you’d know.

You’ve always known.

He swallows back a wave of sadness as his mind reminds me once again that he will leave you one day, and that day will come sooner than he wants it too, that he’s cursed and he shouldn’t taint you too—

“Anything is good as long as it’s with you.” you laugh quietly, falling back onto his bed with a soft thump.

It’s like you were always meant to be there.

[tarjapearce]

HI!! I LOVE YOUR WORKS,, CAN U DO Pornstar miguel fucking his girlfriends tight pussy infront of the cam 😲😍😍😍 ITS DEF IF NOT BUT PLS🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

breeding, size kink, age dif PLS SHSBJWBW

I did not see this coming omg 😳😳 NSFW undercut

Big and sturdy hands attempted to focus the camera on the frame he actually wanted. Thick, lengthy, lightly curved towards the end, reddish hue tip with a heavy sac cock dangled before the camera as he tried to keep the device still.

"Fuck"

"Love when that happens" sweet voice that appeared in all of his homemade productions, giggled at the comment.

He had a lipstick smear near the base, the shape of your lips around it. Your little laughs could be heard from the back, but then you appeared and kneeled before the camera, lipstick impecable on your lips, Your hands grope your breast as Miguel approached. Another amateur production that would be added to his collection in the company.

A single hand of his, big enough to cover your face, went underneath your chin and cupped your cheeks.

"Open up, sweetie" Your tongue rolled off your mouth at his command. as your eyes stared directly at the camera.

His hand tangled in a fistful of your hair as he turned you in direction of his cock. His free hand guiding himself into your mouth and slowly slid in until your nose rubbed his happy trail. You seemed unbothered. Jaw relaxing as he sloshed in and out of your moist and warm flesh.

"So so good, princesa" He'd purr as his fisted hand kept guiding you on his shaft, to then squeeze your nose shut as he made you deepthroat him first. Redden cheeks turned purple as he fucked your throat between breathless moans and grunts.

He had been training you properly for this video in particular. The reviews from the previous one had that comment that surely busted your ego.

'That mouth can surely do better"

You were settled to shut that critic down. And Miguel was more than happy to comply in your training and now, seeing a cum streak that connected his tip with your meaty mouth and be completely unbothered by it, sliding in your throat once more like none's business, made his chest swell in pride.

"Eso, mi amor " (That's it baby)

He hissed with a lustful grin

He pulled your face before the camera and smeared his cum on your chin and cheeks before kissing you, tasting himself in the process with a satisfied grin. His thumbs splotched the lipstick off your mouth.

You laughed at the fact that finally your gagging reflexes had subsided enough for him to just use your mouth as a toy whenever you felt bratty. A great addition to the videos really.

Miguel would take you by the arm and threw you over his shoulder, rag dolling you. Feet dangling and hovering on the joints of his hip. A firm slap on your butt sent shivers down your thighs. A cue for you to shut your giggling out.

"Sorry, sorry got excited." You mumbled as he plopped some more cushions on the couch. He then threw you in them and you howled in laughter.

"Careful, Miggy"

His hands spreaded you gently like a book. Left thigh close to his chest as the other rested in the couch's armchair. Spreaded, exposed with your hips and legs shaped in an L form.

Puffy outer lips, that he had previously coated with his spit, parted to expose a bit more of your inner folds. He groaned at your awaiting soaked pussy.

"Ready, preciosa?" You nodded as your toes wriggled in anticipation. Teeth biting your lower lip.

"Aquí vamos" (Here we go)

Miguel took the phone, a little rustling as he dragged the tripod closer, making a zoom into your pussy. Pulsating, awaiting to be filled.

"Look at that" His thumb rubbed over your clit, to then place his shaft ontop of your flesh. The tip reached an inch underneath your navel.

You'd giggle at the size comparison.

"The perfect size really"

His hands would rub his tip between your folds, prodding at your clit lazily.

"Love big cocks inside you, princesa?"

"Only yours." He'd kiss you with hunger, tongue teasing before his mouth darted towards your ankle. Hips positioned, the camera focused, your hand hovering onto your lower belly made his cock twitch.

His tip sunk between your awaiting folds that received him with a wet little squish. Mouth gaped as he sheathed in a go, breast bouncing at the choking thrust.

"Yess-" You hissed and sobbed. Pussy stretching at his rock hard girth.

"Ay, Dios mio, muñeca. Mira. Mira, mira." (Oh ny God, doll. Look. take a look)

His voice urged to look at your swollen lower belly, full of him, bulging as he kept sheathing himself inside you.

"Feels good? Yeah?"

Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes drooped, drowning in need. You nodded with your bottom lip still caught in your teeth.

"So so good, Miggy. Just like tha-"

Another core shaking thrust. Your breath shook and toes curled in.

"So so eager." He cooed while dragging his cock out, glistening in your moist, his hand tilted the camera so it could take a better angle of how his cock left your pussy gaping. Your entrance squelching as he retired himself completely off you, only to ram back his hips immediately . Shaft buried balls deep in your tight little hole.

"Miguel!" You whined and his hips rolled, tip drawing tiny circles in your cervix. Your head was thrown back and he reached for your neck, squeezing your flesh on the spot. His hand covered completely your neck, dressing it up with his fingers. Air slowly leaving your mouth.

"You like that don't you?"

His pace quickened, and your hands went to his wrist that only applied more pressure on your neck, enough for you to give small short breaths and not cut the air completely. Your nods weak.

"Fucking slut, always greedy for my cock."

Your whole body shook with every plunge he did. Much to your dismay his other hand took a hold of the front strands of your hair and held you both still by the hair and neck as he moved into a brutal pace.

"Always teasing with this tight pussy..."

Your videos weren't for the vanilla coded. In fact it was the main warning in every little intro of them.

"Fucking make it hurt, Miggy" You had begged in between breathless chokes.

He growled. Oh, how you loved when it hurted so good. The kind of pain that always gave you the most intense orgasms with him.

The slapping on your flogged skin turned rawer and meaner, you growled. Sweat rolled down his chest and back, flesh flushed from the exertion. Your insides trapped him, constricting him in a Singapur Kiss. You just took him, mouth hung open, gaping in an o shape as he rawed you silly.

He'd moan shakily at the intensity of your tightening walls. You squirmed and wheezed underneath him.

"Dámelo, muñeca " (Give it to Me baby)

You shook your head vehemently, your hands still on his wrist, nails prickling his skin, trying to get more air in your lungs

"No?" He squeezed harder on your neck earning a weakened yelp. Your hands flailed and slapped his hand away, or at least tried to. Your hips bounced on his cock uncontrollably. There was no longer grunts or yelps, just little choked and stifled sobs, a vice like grip from your insides on his cock.

"¿Lo quieres dentro?" (You want it inside? )

Again your head shook as the remnants of sanity were ripped out of you.

"The fuck you mean no?" He shook you by the neck, it gave him a little wail from you.

Your small frame wringed with sweat, makeup smeared, and such a debauched face that made his wicked grin widen.

"Adentro será." (Inside shall be)

You whimpered a plea that he ignored. Of course you wanted it inside. His load always sizzled your spasming walls deliciously

He had to take a hold of your hips as you came. Gushing enough to bath his cock and lower abdomen with your cum. You had screamed, althout weakly, at the sensation. Body convulsing violently underneath his hands. Voice scrapped raw as your legs shook like jelly.

He had groaned your name as he kept spilling. Short elaborated breaths fanning your neck.

Itt was too much. Too fucking much and too good for you. You felt so full, that every time he unsheathed himself from you, you felt empty.

His hands grope you tighter as he gave the last few most powerful thrust you had received so far before going limp ontop of you as his seed remodeled your insides white.

"Such a good girl"

He mumbled as you wheezed, panted and giggled. His cock slowly leaving you, he then took the camera and zoomed in at the creampie he just did.

"¿Estás bien, chula?" (You ok?)

You just gave him a two thumbs up and giggled. Too sore to try and speak

"Ready for round two?" You only groaned. A bruise underneath your chin forming as he laughed.

[herejusttosufferalong]

Now that L has painted a big arrow on the timeline at June 2021, I’m curious about what you think S2 filming was like between the two of them?

L was still with J, they had found out they were going to be leading season 3, they had less screen time and more downtime than S3, and they posted THAT selfie. Thoughts?

Let me just give y'all my thoughts:

I think there was always feelings between the two of them and S2 filming really started to cultivate the blurred lines for them.

They knew early on in S2 production they would be leading S3 and they have both been very vocal about the prep they started to lead S3.

I think they both recognized pretty quickly they had feelings for each other but never discussed it and the used S3 filming and their characters to act on their feelings.

I personally don't think they ever crossed a line physically outside of their characters, pre or post break up with J.

I think a conversation was had between the two of them, sometime between the wrap party and her going to his play. I'm leaning closer to the wrap party.

I do think N was the one to shut things down for multiple reasons like L just getting out of a 4 yr relationship, them being in the BTON bubble and blurring lines, and then her truly thinking that maybe they had gotten whatever it was out of their system during filming.

I also don't think L was honest when they had their conversation. I know a lot of people within the fandom think his confession sort of "scared" N off with him dropping the love bomb. I feel the opposite. I think he downplayed things out of rejection.

Which is why we see him do a 180 last summer, he is running.

I think after she went to his play there was limited contact between them, partly because she had been seeing someone else, until Dec '23 when they met back up for reshoots.

During reshoots they fell right back into the blurred lines because nothing was actually resolved from their previous talk. They may have had another conversation with an understanding regarding the upcoming tour.

Which I believe is part of the reason we get the tension after the NYE kiss and during the early Jan interviews.

I don't believe N was seeing anyone Dec '23/Jan '24 but I do think it may have been rekindled in Feb/Mar done by early April.

We can tell from all of the press junkets and livestream events Feb-Apr that there is something there between L and N, I don't think it was lost on them either.

Australia def solidified things for them exhibiting their feelings outside of their characters and being forced to really examine it. Another conversation was had.

Then we have the InStyle stunt followed by a bunch of articles claiming L to be single.

A week later they are in Italy.

There is tension. Why? I think it is truly due to their lack of clear and honest communication up to that point. Another conversation is had, with their bodies, and all is well for the rest of the Italy stop.

I don't believe L had any intention of taking A to the NY premiere but I also don't think she flew there and surprised him. I don't think he was happy she was there but I also don't believe he yelled at her or got into an argument with her at the after party.

Reasons why I don't believe she was ever invited to NY:

She had bought her own ticket to get into the premiere/after party.

Her seat at the Knicks game seemed to be a last minute get.

And the Chaos dinner.

I'm def in the minority with this one but I don't think L would have accepted the invite if A was planned to go to NY. I could be wrong but the dinner already seemed completely outside of L's scene of ppl to network with. He was going for N and N alone, you can't change my mind.

Then we get Brazil. This is tricky because I don't believe L had ended things with A like some ppl do but I do believe they were just casual.

I am def in the minority here as well, I don't believe L took A to SF during the break between Brazil and Toronto. I think the pic A shared was an old one. Could be wrong tho. I think he was elsewhere and not with her and that was the reasoning behind the liking spree and getting some family/friends to follow her. All so she didn't act out, go figure it would be her mom who caused the drama...

Cut to Toronto. There is perceived tension between L and N but I think the fandom got this one wrong. They both seemed to have been ill in Toronto so I think that and jet lag started to catch up with them. All was fine in the end.

Not much to say about Dublin or Galway. I think lines were drawn by someone as things got a little too real.

And now here we are.

Let's discuss...

[huellitaa]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ feeling uncomfy in ur own skin

ok so this is something ive been struggling with for years. like i wake up some days and just feel Eugh way more than id like to. SO i decided i'd make a little guide on this! for me and for you 🩷✨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 reasons why we could be feeling uncomfortable with ourselves and who we are

♡ having a shitty mental diet and consuming media and things that make you feel bad abt urself

♡ being in an environment where we're constantly being judged or put down, even over the most basic things

♡ hanging around negative people or negative places

♡ not giving urself enough credit for ur own achievements and accomplishments

♡ changing urself constantly for others and not having a clear sense of self to hold on to

♡ not having boundaries on how you and others treat you

♡ staying stagnant in the same place in your life and not changing (🎀🗒️also read: get comfy being uncomfy ♡)

♡ not paying enough attention to yourself and avoiding your genuine thoughts, feelings and emotions

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. be gentle with yourself!

pleasepleaseplease its ok to have bad days its ok to not feel great every day. treat yourself as you would someone you love. if you just aren't feeling good today, then you aren't feeling good! honour that and respect that and deal with that accordingly. even if you are uncomfortable with yourself right now or you don't like yourself right now, please try and treat yourself with care regardless, because no matter what stage you are in in your life right now you are and always will be the most important person in ur life, so TREAT URSELF LIKE IT🫶💖

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. inspiration, not comparison!

i know its often told not to go looking at people who are ahead of you in these times but hear me out. i think looking at and observing people you admire who are further ahead of you is very motivating to build yourself up and *become more like them* in your own way. you look up to them because of ___? what can you do to become your own version of that? thinking like this gets me more inspired to just get out of bed because i want to be more like them.

two words for this one - NO. COMPARISON. gaining inspiration from others to better yourself and comparing yourself to others are two completely different things. 🫶 (shameless self promo, but i have a post on this here! 🩷✨)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. analysis: detective work chapter!

journal and think and think to urself why u might feel like this or what caused this. when did it start? has anything happened lately that may have caused this? how does it feel, in depth? what can you do to combat this? how can you make it through the day & make it so you do even better tomorrow?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. channeling the mindset!

back to my point on our idols, thinking like them & thinking what they'd do in this situation helps me a lot. personally one of my idols is ada lovelace so whenever im really tired and unmotivated or insecure on my abilities or appearance or anything else i think to myself "what would she do?" and 9 times out of 10 im up at my desk in my cutest outfit hard at work. this is def one of my favourite points and something i use on the daily for like literally everything and 100% recommend 🩷✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. what would i do?

similarly, ask urself what the best version of yourself or the version of urself youre working towards would do in this situation. be your own inspiration. be ur own muse. would they stay in bed and rot all day? if the answer is no then ur up. out. immediately. ask urself what they would do. if ur feeling drained, would they take a day off to do some self care and recharge? if ur feeling sad, would they be gentle with themselves and let themselves feel sad for a little while & try to work to the root of the problem?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. understanding yourself!

make a list of the things that make you the happiest and most comfortable & productive and the things that make you the unhappiest and the opposite of those things. i mentioned this in my recharge day post, but figuring out these will help you find out which negative behaviours or habits are lowering ur vibrations and making u feel like this, and help u to engage more in the things that make you happy with yourself and everything around you 💗✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. pay attention!

pay close attention to ur internal landscape and your self talk throughout the day. note down every little thing you notice, even if you think it won't be helpful; for example, do you find yourself indulging in negative talk abt urself, negative talk abt others, constantly being pessimistic and expecting the worst, indulging in judgement and criticism of urself and everyone around you, getting distracted easily, and so on.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. what would i do, part 2

like i mentioned earlier, you should be your own inspiration. you should be your own muse. as much as it's nice to have idols, when ur trying to change something about urself and adjust and improve ur own behaviours, you should be mainly focusing on what you want to achieve by changing said behaviours. do you know who you're working towards being? do you know how you want to feel? do you know what you are changing these things you feel into? think about whether or not the person you are now lines up with the person you want to be in all aspects of ur life. if you feel like you aren't even trying to meet these standards then of course ur gonna feel bad about urself. of course don't be too hard on urself, but keep this in mind. 💓✨

finally, remember that these things are temporary and it wont be like this forever. ur beautiful and perfect no matter what and in these times u gotta show up for yourself even more and never give up! i believe in u 🫶🩷

all my love 💗💬✨🎀

[dumplingsfordays]

Reading 30 Strales and omg Blade smelling like citrus sounds amazing. I've been playing for about 3 weeks and after fulling catching up on the trailblazer quests I was like dang blade kills people a lot right, he probably smells like blood 24/7 that's so gross. All this to say... reject logic, I agree that blade smells like citrus. Do you have thoughts on what any of the others would smell like?

what the hsr men smell like

ft. blade, gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, luocha, and welt

cw!: mentions of blood, no pronouns for reader mentioned, implied relationship, cuddling, swearing, super fluffy :)

note - thank you so much for reaching out to me omg 🥺 i reject logic too so that's how the whole citrus thing came to be ajsjdk. also i know absolutely nothing about colognes/fragrances so i'm sorry if i mess some of these up ;-; hope you're having a great day/night though pookie <3

and as always, thank you for reading :)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

blade

~ as mentioned above, def smells like citrus and bergamot.

~ sometimes you can catch a little metallic-y whiff of (cough cough) def not blood (cough cough), but it never lasts for long - when he hugs you, the smell of oranges invades your senses like a light summer breeze~

~ and don't get me started on how obsessed he is w this scent. if he stays somewhere for even 1-2 days, you know he's bringing along his 3 freakin citrus-scented candles!!

~ please run your fingers thru his hair when you're hanging out or cuddling. please. he will melt from headpats and your fingers will smell like his shampoo for the rest of the day, and since you love the scent of gentle lime, why not?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

gepard

~ omg this man!! he's totally giving cashmere + hot cocoa for some reason??? he doesn't really use cologne/fragrances and prefers his natural scent, but does use cashmere and vanilla body wash + shampoo.

~ like sure, after a busy day at work or training he'll kinda smell like sweat but will immediately take a shower when he gets home. he hates being sweaty and thinks it's icky if he does for too long-

~ and when you snuggle up to him for cuddle time on a day off, you just wanna stay there forever bc his scent envelops you like a blanket on freezing winter nights <3

~ overall very comforting and warm, just like Gepard himself!! (cries in human heater vibes)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

jing yuan

~ musk + cinnamon + a little bit of spice, and def uses cologne.

~ actually wants to smell nice and puts in the effort!! changes his sheets, washes his clothes, showers every day (but washes his hair every 3 days or so bc haircare)

~ speaking of haircare, this man's big on it. most of his haircare products smell like the aforementioned musk and cinnamon, but he uses this one cream that smells like cloves and you freakin adore it. sometimes you borrow it so that whenever you're going out and he's busy with his big boy general duties, it feels like he's with u <3

~ and ughhhh his bedroom smells like him so whenever you guys have le cuddle time you fall asleep almost immediately. ofc he eventually does too (bc he loves how u smell too pookie, don't tell him i said that though he would kill me aksjskd) and you're so warm and soft and how could he not fall asleep??

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

dan heng

~ very ocean-y (salty?), small hints of eucalyptus and cypress as well. when he uses cologne he uses very, very little, but he actually has 2 separate colognes, one for the ocean-y cypress, and the other for the eucalyptus

~ i feel like this is kinda a bold statement but he uses bath bombs. like he gets a bath bomb that smells like mint, gets in the bathtub w it, and glides his thumbs over its surface bc he likes the texture-

~ he might not be the cleanest man in the universe, but he sure does smell like it!! something about eucalyptus and cypress and mint and a hint of ocean breeze is chillingly refreshing and tbh you kinda dig it :D

~ mornings w dan heng. omfg they are ethereal bc he literally smells angelic??? like a gentle freshness yk and the pillows smell like him too so lazy mornings are def a thing that you guys love sharing <3

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

luocha

~ oooo he's kinda a wild card imo, but personally, i think that he smells like jasmine + honey (not just bc of his idle + technique!! pinky promise)

~ he lowkey smells a little like freshly-cut grass, very light n refreshing. however, jasmine takes center stage, and if you really bury your face in his long-ass hair, you can catch a whiff of chamomile :))

~ super big on herbal teas and honey as well - i hc that he brings a water bottle w him that's just green tea n honey so when you're close to his face (cuddling, hugging, etc) the honey adds this sweetness that blends super well w the aforementioned chamomile + jasmine <3

~ like jing yuan, super involved in haircare!! he does use less products, but you still freakin adore this chamomile shampoo that he uses. avid believer in aromatherapy, prob uses essential oils (not for curing cancer ofc)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

welt

~ coffee and amberwood!! both are deep and rich scents and he probably uses cologne in very small amounts aksjdks

~ coffee addict and the scent faintly lingers, so the amberwood is really more prominent, but overall i promise he doesn't smell like dust or smth, he's not that old he takes good care of himself :))

~ burns incense in his room bc it helps him relax and concentrate on his drawings, so he does have a little resin smell to him, but you don't mind bc it's actually quite comforting. he once almost caused a fire bc he dropped a lit match onto the carpet but we don't talk about that-

~ loves to hug you so whenever he does, you always feel so cozy and loved and aaaaa ya'll are so cute i can't <3 and since he's pretty tall he sometimes rests his head on top of yours and hugs you from behind like that and you melt immediately bc it's like a blanket!! but smells super nice!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˊˎ˗

[slamdunkhcs]

Considering the fact they’re basketball players who have to condition (even on the off-season), I thought this would be fun to think about :). And also i go to the gym and i see boys like them all the time there

slam dunk boys at the gym

rukawa

• One thing about Rukawa, he is going to the gym ALONE. Like it’ll literally be him, his airpods, a towel, and a fat waterbottle against the world. I don’t think he’d hate working out with someone, but he’d prefer to workout alone since he can stay focused and go at his own pace.

• He’d have both his AirPods in at full volume and go CRAZY on the machines/weightlifting bars. I think for his stamina, he would use the Stairmaster at full speed and go on it for as long as he could.

• I’d say that he does workouts for all of his body, but his favorite workouts would be arm ones, just because he’ll be able to put more power into his basketball shots.

• I don’t think he’d be approached by anyone at the gym since he’s always super focused on his workout and looks VERY intimidating, but if you went up to him and asked him for help, he’d do it.

• BUTTTT If he was in a bad mood that day, he might just put his AirPod right back in and ignore you 😂. However, after he cools off, he’d feel kinda bad. And then sigh and go up to you like “What did you need help with?”

• HE’D DEF BE ADMIRED BY ALL THE GYM BADDIES!!!!!

ryota

• Ok I feel like his level of productivity would depend on who he’s at the gym with. If he’s with Mitsui, those two are gonna try and compete with who could lift heavier weights 😂. But if he’s with Sakuragi, aint NOTHING getting done.

• He will take a ton of gym photos and mirror selfies and post them like “Hitting the gym today ✅” on Insta/Snap. AND HE’LL SEND THEM ALL TO AYAKO 😂😂😂. His gym fits will be coordinated asf too!!! He will go over there dripped out!!!

• I think if he goes alone he’d be really focused. He wouldn’t look intimidating or anything but he’d keep to himself and put on some music (def rnb like bryson tiller or brent faiyaz) and do his workouts. If the gym had a track area, he’d walk around and jus think about life and whatever happened throughout his day.

• Now if Ayako tagged along with him to the gym one day… HES GONNA ACT A FOOL. Like he will literally just stand by her the entire time as if he’s her mf bodyguard. And if a man even TRIED to talk to her, he would instantly shoo him away 💀

sakuragi

• His productivity would also depend on who hes with 😂

• If he’s with his lil gang… they getting into BIG trouble. Those idiots would fool around and try and swing around the weightlifting bar and hit eachother with it. They’d cause a big commotion and then get escorted out the gym by mf security.

• I think he’d go alone alot lowkey… especially after rehabilitation, he’d go there to do light workouts to prepare himself for basketball practice.

• I f he doesn’t know how to properly use a machine, this mf is NOT ASKING NOBODYYY for help 💀. Like he will stand there and stubbornly try messing with it until either he figures it out, or one of the gym’s staff sees him and offers him help

• I feel like he’d be very popular with the elderly people at the gym. Like in the mens’ locker room, the old men would look at him and be like “Back in my day, I was a lot like you, son,” and be hyping him up on his muscles and big build. AND HE’D ACT ALL OVERCONFIDENT but he’d lowkey be smiling about it for the rest of the day. He’d smile and make a peace sign whenever he sees one of the elderly regulars there. And if they asked him for help, he’d help!!!!! He’d have a whole community of uncles and aunties at the gym

• In terms of people around his age tho.. it’s a different story. If someone is using a machine or area he’s trying to use, he’s gonna be SOOO inpatient. Especially if whoever is on it isn’t using it. If it’s a girl, he’d ask politely, but if it’s a guy, he’ll mean mug tf outta them, until they get intimidated and walk away 😭

• If he and Ryota are at the gym together, those two will take SO many pictures. Half of the time they’d jus be talking and talking, and wouldn’t get ANYTHING accomplished

mitsui

• Ok, one thing about Mitsui, he is NOT going to the gym alone. Like he will hit the whole mf team up and ask them to go with him. Even Akagi.

• I think he’d go frequently though, especially in order to build up his stamina. Rukawa would show him the Stairmaster machine and he’d go CRAZY on there. Like by the end, it’ll say he walked up 200 flights of stairs 😂

• He’d lowkey have so many gym crushes. But he wouldn’t approach ANY of them 😂😂😂. He will just admire, sigh, and then go on with his workout. I think some of the gym baddies would think he’s cute but they wouldn’t approach him

• The reason why he’d be scared of being alone at the gym is because it’d be jus him and his thoughts. AND FOR MITSUI, THATS SCARY ASL. However… I think going to the gym alone from time to time would end up being a way for him to destress and reflect.

PS: IMMA DO A PART TWO WITH AKAGI, SENDOH, SAWAKITA, and whoever else yall want

[cloudyskydreams]

SO on period UT,UF,US,HT!

Ive had this sitting in my notes for awhile wasn't super proud of it still ain't but I wanted to post something, I just had to slap the HT brothers on and boom new post.

Also I've been wanting to write swapfell but I don't know the difference between that and fellswap or really their personalities cause it's so different for each fanfic so if someone could pls explain 🙏

Anyways here y'all go hope you enjoy!

Undertale:

Sans: I feel like sans is pretty knowledgeable so you didn't have to explain it to him. He takes it pretty maturely it's a natural part of life. The puns the horrible puns. He has so many specifically for this time of the month. He's always got your comfort snack on hand in his jacket pockets. He doesn't really change much he'll get off his ass if you ask him to but he sticks by your side mostly and lazes out cuddled with you while watching shows. Pretty good at getting products and snacks you might like he likes to get you some new snacks to try with him and he's good at guessing what you might like.

Papyrus: This man is prepared. After you tell him what it is he researches it and WOWIE he wishes he just asked you to explain but now he's over prepared with knowledge! He has hot water bottles and weighted blankets at the ready. Any snacks you want, heck you want a whole meal? He's on it and it's prepared with extra love. He carries around your products for you and always has pain medicine in his bags. Pretty good at picking them up from the store too and has no shame getting them.

Underfell:

Red: You gotta explain it to him and this man is bewildered for a bit. ya bleed from there for how long??? every month?! He's a little impressed?? Last he checked humans weren't supposed to lose huge amounts of blood but you're treating it like it's a normal thing. After he gets over his initial shock he'll try and help the best he can which is a little awkwardly. He makes a little nest for you out of blankets and pillows and makes sure you're comfortable. He and his magic run warm so he'll lay on your stomach and cuddle to help with cramps, pet his head and he might purr. He's pretty confused about products def one to send Babe what's your pussy size.

Edge: He's aware, he's done his research on his own when you were ovulating about the human "mating cycle". Not a fun experience but he takes it in stride. He listens to what you need and trys to deliver. Massages for sore muscles and heating pads for cramps. He'll make you comfort food while you relax watching a show and join you afterwards for some cuddles. He's pretty good at getting products for you and takes the ones you like into consideration but he's always looking for better healthier alternatives for you.

Underswap:

Stretch: Knows about it (blue taught him when he found out and Stretch showed interest in humans)and is a little awkward(traumatized from the talk with Blue). Hate to say it Stretch doesn't really know what to do he's not grossed out he just doesn't know how to handle it. He tries his best to be comforting giving snacks, heating pads, and cuddles. He's so awkward going to the store to get products plays it cool but has no idea what he's doing and definitely gets the wrong thing after his mind blanks while staring at all the products for too long. You just gotta train him he'll get better.

Blue: Also knows and he's handling it alot better. He takes it in stride and understands the biggest part is you're uncomfortable and he's going to do his best to help with that. He takes care of chores you don't want to do, makes you comfort meals, and always has a heating pad ready. Has so many two player comfort games lined up for you guys, he has stuff to do but most of his work stuff can be done at home! Which means he'll just be a shout away if you need anything . Pretty good at getting products and is one to carry some around in his bag just in case when you guys go out.

HorrorTale:

Axe: You have to explain it to him… Multiple times. He's confused as to why you smell like blood, he likes the smell but he's confused for a bit until he writes a note about it. He will not remember which products to get unfortunately. He's so confused staring at them you'll have to instruct him very clearly over a call and he still probably grabs the wrong one. Cuddles are supreme he's a giant so he'll engulf you in his form and his purrs practically shake your whole body. It's like a free massage chair whenever you want. He sticks closer by your side during this time of month knowing blood means your wounded and his protective urges flare up.

Willow: You'll also have to explain it to him and he's extremely worried when he smells blood. Even more so when he learns how long you bleed, he knows how much blood a human can loose and it worries him you're losing so much. After you explain it's a normal thing and a part of life he calms down slightly. He cleans and cooks a lot when stressed or worried so you constantly have something to munch on and you don't have to worry about any chores. He stays over stocked up on supplies, he doesn't like going out in public very often but for this he will because he deems it important enough. It's why he stocks up so much when he goes out. Mother hens over you hard and you might have to pull him into cuddles to get him to relax for a bit.