#everything about this is just chef’s kiss

[its-your-mind]

the m9 are so FUCKING good at being irreverent and threatening and disrespectful and rude and insolent WHILE SOMEHOW ALSO maintaining a certain degree of plausible deniability?? and most of the time they’re not even necessarily trying to be like. manipulative??? that’s just how they are???? most of them hold things close to the chest as a default position, they obfuscate, they’re all hesitant to commit the group to a course of action, they keep their options open and their paths for retreat clear At All Times, and they give NO SHITS about how they’re perceived beyond wanting to give the impression to possible threats that they are Not To Be Fucked With.

which leads to cool shit like the fact that they made essek feel safe and not-lonely because he saw them as kindred spirits and knew their affection was genuine, or when all of them kept sitting in eadwulf’s chair before he could, or when they all grouped tight around Caleb and projected Pure Concentrated Righteous Anger when Trent saw him again for the first time, or when they got banned from Pirate Island by the Pirate King within 24 hours of landing there NOT because they DIDN’T fuck up and blow up a bunch of shit but because someone ELSE fucked up WORSE and so they got to live and leave while Avantika got her head smooshed.

and it is so *chef’s kiss* when they’re with people like trent or obann or whatever noble they’ve pissed off this week, but it’s WAY FUNNIER when they’re with Lucien who is in fact trying to be demeaning and manipulative to them on purpose and they’re just… not acknowledging it. and they’re meeting him volley for volley. but he’s being very intentional in trying to dance the right steps, finding the right buttons to push, and the Nein one time stole a whole-ass pirate ship and sailed into the ocean by… accident. they wouldn’t know intentionality if it bumped into them in the sewers and dropped an ancient religious relic into their bag of holding.

so lucien is trying to unnerve him by being there when cad wakes up, and cad responds by being 100% genuine when he asks Lucien to watch the sunrise and tells him that he needs perspective. jester really does probably want to domesticate unicorns? Caleb did let them sleep in his warm cat tower in exchange for seeing the fucked up book. Veth tried to kill Otis and they’re just. Not talking about it. Either of them. Lucien is scrying on them all the time. They know it. He knows they know. The scrying continues. the Nein throw up middle fingers until the scry orb vanishes so they can have like. ten minutes to plot before another pops up. Lucien knows they’re probably plotting. They know he knows. The plotting continues. Jester turns herself and Lucien into cats so they can slide through the cat tunnels. She reads his Tarot. He pulls Death. She tells him it’s an omen of Rebirth. Caleb surrounds him with the trappings and memories of Mollymauk. Lucien continues to act as though Molly was some meaningless scrap of floating consciousness. The Nein don’t believe that. He knows. He’s not interested in re-examining his opinions on the matter. The Nein keep pushing the Molly buttons. They keep going north together. Beau tells him about the cults they’ve destroyed. Lucien dispels their Polymorphs to force them to face the fire elementals down on the lava beside him. Caleb and Cad can emergency-teleport them out. Eiselcross doesn’t like teleportation energy. They’re the only ones who can stop the Somnovum. Lucien proves his mortality by getting them lost two days in a row. An old enemy finds them. They reach out to Essek. He’s waiting. Aeor. North. Caleb and Beau dream. They could be compromised. They can’t tell if Lucien knows. He’s always acting like he knows everything, and of course none of them would risk asking and giving him more information.

So they dance. But Lucien learned this dance by choice. His movements are quick and smooth, but they don’t flow naturally, not like the Nein’s. They first learned this dance out of necessity, and perfected it under threat of punishment, pain, and death. They’ve spent the last year learning how each other move, learning how to adjust and make room. It’s easy to let Fjord take the lead in negotiation, and to back off when he steps in to mediate. Beau and Caleb don’t have to talk to know each others’ priorities, and when Caleb marches over with clear intent, Beau follows quickly behind to provide silent support, and to step in to take some of the heat in case Caleb needs it. Cad and Jester are so effortlessly effective, offen without even realizing it, but it’s second-nature now to jump ship to whatever new tone or topic one of the clerics brings to the conversation. Veth is similar, though her skill lies more in her ability to aggressively redirect. She can cannonball into any smoothly flowing river of conversation, disrupting things significantly enough that whatever conversation had been happening, it’s at least going to be a very different one than what’s happening now. Yasha is the opposite - she always steps lightly, gently making comments or asking quiet questions, and if Veth is good at making waves, Yasha has a gift for settling things back down, bringing everyone’s energy levels down closer to her own.

and so Lucien is left on the outskirts of an intricate social dance that he can't hope to penetrate, because he refuses to allow himself to know the Nein. He refuses to accept that the part of him that is Molly used to flit and spin and flourish amongst them as though he belonged. Because he did. He does.

and so they keep walking north, with full knowledge that none of them trust each other even a little bit, and that both groups are waiting for one moment of weakness, one stumble, one missed step in the dance to give them a moment to strike. but the tentative peace is dependent on none of them acknowledging that the "peace" is simply the silence of a forest when an apex predator is stalking its prey. at this point, they're all just waiting to see who'll be the hunter, and who will be the hunted.

[d0rothydraws]

Supportive sugar daddy sylus.

You were exhausted.

You picked up a new position at work. Figuring it would be just a little different you weren't worried. But little did you know, it was basically a whole new job. New people, new tasks, new schedule. Everything was different. And you were drained.

Sylus was supportive as always. He made his chef cook you meals so you could come home to a hot fresh meal every night. Everything to your clothes laid out on the freshly changed bed so you could change after you showered together.

Which he insisted on.

With the new schedule you seen him less, had less time to text. It honestly broke your heart. And though you knew that it was a better position, better pay, one thing rang in your mind, a conversation you had months prior to now.

"Sweetie, you know you can quit, right?" His voice rang in your head as if he was saying it right in front of you. As fresh as the day he said it. "You would have all the time for any hobby you'd want to pursue. Why not learn to make those plushies you like so much?"

His words rang in your ears. Your body stopped moving as you felt a surge of hope. But what would that mean for how people see you? For your reputation. Your mind started to swim with thoughts of urgency and self doubt.

Not noticing Sylus' moving closer he cupped your face in his large hands, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I will take care of you, sweetie. Don't waste your time thinking of what others think. And if you end up wanting to go back to work, then that's fine too." He said kissing your forehead. "But just say the word and I will take care of anything you need."

You didn't want to jump into a rash decision but eventually you did agree. With all the extra time on your hands you were able to take up hobbies that you could never even dream of doing before. You never had to worry about the price of the materials either. Sylus would take you to the store and as you dumped the things you needed into the cart, he would add even more saying

"It might come in handy."

You had a whole room in his house dedicated to your supplies. You needed it with how much he bought. And if you lost interest and wanted to move on he didn't say anything. The supplies donated to a charity or someone who needs them.

[aurorawritestoescape]

I read the story first thing in the morning and it put me in a wonderful mood!! and I’ve just reread it again and it’s so comforting and soooo hot I hope I dream of baby Vamp tonight🥹😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥

I’m sure that Vamp has the best taste out of all joelkemons. His bathroom is GORGEOUS!!!

I’m definitely not running away!😍😍😍 and why would she when Joel loves her so much? The way he praises her, gushes over her makes me so happy🥹😍

Awwww🥹😭😭😭 he’s perfect!😩

He really cares about her and thinks about her needs and feelings first🥹😍😍😍

Vamp is sweet but also SOOOOO SEXYYYY🫠🫠🫠 his body!!🤤 the smut was chef’s kiss🔥❤️ it’s so slow, soft, loving and HOT! I’m a puddle after reading it🫠🫠🫠 delicious!!

Not putting it in sometimes can be even hotter and this is absolutely the case!!!🥵🥵🥵😩😩😩That being said I’m sure I’m gonna die, reading their first time🥹🫠

Made for you??!!😩 Joel!!!🥵 Cum is everything and I love how hungry she is for it. Same girl🤤

I’m so happy for them!🥹😍 They seem like a couple now and I love how comfortable she’s with him and that he trusts her enough to go outside together. And the leather cuffs make it spicier😏

Thank you so much for this amazing part, Toxy!🥹🫂 Your writing is perfection as always💖💖💖

Don't have to wait.

VAMPIRE JOEL x f!READER | 4k words | playlist

When his gaze drifted down to the clear water, his eyes couldn’t help but linger. “What?” you asked, and he realized he was staring. “Sorry, uh,” he shook his head at himself. “It’s just—” he looked into your eyes. “You’re a work of art, that’s all.” 

You're feeling down, and when Joel comforts you with an act of service, things get steamy. Big thank you to everyone who loves him and keeps thinking of him. 🖤 you don't need to read/re-read the others to enjoy this one.

WARNINGS: 18+, softdarkish, captivity, big girthy age gap (joel >400/reader 20s-50s), angst at the very beginning, dark fluff, bath, body worship, sexual tension, nipplegasm, dry humping, oral f receiving, romantic / dirty talk, cum eating. 

After drying your tears, Joel held you in your bed as you dozed off for an afternoon nap. Awake while you dreamt, he kept picturing the defeated look on your face as you cried into the pillow. He was afraid to ask what was wrong—he couldn’t bear to hear it out loud. It was the way your life had changed. The way you didn’t have the same freedoms. It was a strange new world, whether he liked to think of it that way or not. He could only imagine what it felt like to you. It was going to get better, SO much better, better than you could imagine, but change was always difficult. He’d seen enough change in his life to know. 

Joel had to think of something to help. Taking you out and about would be the right thing, since he knew it was what you wanted, but he was so afraid to lose you. He’d get there—he’d take you out, but not quite yet. Meanwhile, there had to be something he could do to help. He gently let your head off his bicep, kissed you on the forehead, slid out of bed, and admired you. You looked like an angel. Not just when you slept—all the time. 

He needed to think, so he went to a thinking space. 

Joel rolled open the dark barnhouse doors to his huge bathroom. There was one window, and it was stained glass. The floor was coated concrete,  like the basement, but with prettier swirls in dark colors that glimmered and went well with the window.  There was a fireplace on the wall that was shared by his bedroom, and a freestanding claw-foot bathtub. Hugging the porcelain tub on one side, there was a little washbin with its own spigot, like a little sidecar to the tub. He used the sidecar to lather up a sponge for his own baths, which normally didn’t involve much water.

He sat down on a throne-looking velvet chair to the side of the fireplace, facing the tub. He put his journal down on a darkened teak table. Physically, he had energy, but mentally, he was spent.  He rested his head against the chair and crossed his arms loosely. He looked at his granite counter, and behind it, the wall. Where a mirror would normally be, there hung artwork with black frames in fancy shapes.  

Joel climbed in the dry tub fully clothed, sock-footed. He wrapped his cardigan tighter around himself, rested his head against the porcelain, and lay there in the empty tub. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, it hit him. He could draw you a bath. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a full bath in real life, but he’d seen plenty in movies. He could bring in some flowers, light some candles.  It was so comfortable there in that room. 

Baths are good. Relaxing. Romantic. He knew this. He knew a lot. Everything he watched, and a lot of things he read, were all about human culture and practices. It was impossible not to absorb the knowledge, he just wasn’t used to accessing it for practical purposes. But he was getting better at it. He had to give himself credit for that.

—

When you woke up, Joel was sitting on your bed, pensively reading his journal.  When he noticed you were awake, he took off his glasses and folded them into his v-neck.  “Morning, honey,” he whispered, and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Then he reached over to the table on his side. He had ordered coffee and a croissant from your favorite cafe–the one where you met. You sat up, accepted the tray, and sipped your coffee. 

“You know, i’d really like to go back to that cafe,” you admitted, then tried to appeal to his way of thinking. “Wouldn’t you? Back to where we had our first date?” 

Joel smiled and his eyes sparkled. “Yeah.” He jotted it down in his journal. “But hey, today, I got a surprise for ya here. Gonna show you somewhere new.” 

“A new room?” 

“Yeah. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? You can change into this.” He left you a silk robe. 

—

—

With you by his side, Joel rolled open the massive doors to reveal the air of a gothic cathedral. Steam rose from the claw-foot tub. Candelabras flickered on the walls. The stained-glass window bathed the water in red. The fireplace was on, flowers were on nearly every surface, and the air smelled of patchouli. 

Joel asked if you wanted him to turn around while you got in, but you said it was okay. He took the silk robe off your shoulders and admired your beautiful back. “You’re so pretty,” he muttered. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He held his hand out and you used it for balance as you dipped a toe into the water. “How is it?” he asked. 

“Perfect,” you answered, and he beamed. 

As you sunk into the water, Joel stood and watched, holding an old book with both hands.  He was so strange, but the strangest thing about him was how normal he seemed sometimes. Like a hot professor with a few screws loose. 

Settling into the water, you brought your knees to your chest. 

“Anything I can bring ya?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered. 

Joel hung up his cardigan on the wall, then dragged his throne-like chair in front of the fireplace and sat with his book in his lap. He was posted like a lifeguard, alert and pleased to see you enjoying the experience he set up. 

You looked at him, wondering if he wanted something. 

He assured you, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave ya.” He couldn’t risk you drowning on him. 

“Oh…” you replied. “Okay.” 

Joel nodded confidently, then remembered quietly to himself,  “Oh.” He took his glasses off the front of his softwash v-neck and put them on, then opened his book. “You won’t even notice I’m here,” he smiled. 

It was a really beautiful room. Warm and cozy, even with the high ceilings. A gorgeous chandelier. The tub was roomy, and the water felt perfect. You stretched out your legs and crossed your ankles. 

Joel kept looking up from his book to check on you, so you started to make conversation. “Is this your bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Do you like it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” you gushed. “What’s this do?” Your thumb brushed a crystal knob that was on its own, away from the other part of the faucet. 

“Oh,  you click it down and it waits 30 seconds then fills the tub,” he nodded. “Automatic shut-off” 

“Cool,” you replied.   

“Oh,” he remembered, “Forgot to show ya somethin’ else. Can I–” he pointed at the tub. 

“Sure,” you answered. 

Joel left his book on his chair, and knelt at the side of the tub. He reached down to the little sidecar and turned on the water spigot. He smiled and looked at you until the spigot stopped. “Just if you want,” he explained, and held up a sponge full of suds. 

“Oh, thanks,” you replied. 

He lingered by the tub. 

“If you want, I could even, uh,” he motioned with the sponge toward you. 

Your cheeks warmed…. hmmm. Why not? “Okay,” you agreed.

“Yeah? ”

“Sure.” 

With both knees on the floor, Joel looked at you with a little smile. Then his gaze drifted down to the clear water, and his eyes couldn’t help but linger.

 “What?” you asked, and he realized he was staring. 

“Sorry, uh,” he shook his head at himself. “It’s just—” he looked into your eyes. “You’re a work of art, that’s all.” 

You sank down a little more in the water and smiled shyly. 

“Hey, careful,” he laughed and reached for your arm to not let you go further in. 

He scanned you head to toe again and added, “Most perfect sight I ever seen.” 

“Thanks,” you looked away. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“What?”

“M’not perfect,” you mumbled. 

“Yeah you are,” his face got serious. “Perfect for me,” he insisted, then mumbled to himself,  “s’why you’re here.” 

Afraid he was making you uncomfortable, he looked down at the sponge and said, “Okay,” shifting into his task.  

“K,” you echoed. 

“Can I touch you? ” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. In truth you wanted nothing more. 

—--

You tilted your head up to look at the ceiling, and Joel started at your neck. He brushed his bite marks with the pad of his thumb and it felt like an apology. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. 

He gently lathered your neck, then your shoulders. “Wow,” he marveled quietly at the way the suds ran down each curve of your form above the water. He lathered your chest with the sponge. You lifted your arms, putting your hands on the sides of the tub, and he got your underarms. He ran the sponge over your chest again and paused. He took the sponge away and whispered, “God damn,” watching the bubbles flow down between your breasts. 

Turned on by his worship of your body, you rubbed your lips together and looked at him.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “Just gotta, uh,” He showed you the sponge with a nervous chuckle and dipped it into the water sidecar, getting water all over himself. 

He looked down at his wet shirt and you suggested, “You could take it off, if you want.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he read your face. 

You answered low and soft, “I don’t mind,” with a raise of your eyebrows. 

Joel took a deep breath and put the sponge back in the sidecar. “Okay,” he whispered. 

He reached over his back and took his shirt off. You drew in a deep breath through your nose, admiring his strong shoulders and the smattering of soft brown and gray hairs on his chest. He took off his glasses, folded them, and put them aside with his shirt. 

Joel bathed you in silence, lips parted, corners of his mouth glistening. He took his time, and his eyes roved your body. When he got to your inner thigh, you shuddered and got goosebumps everywhere. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, “Don’t stop.” 

He glanced at your face with a dark, hungry look, then his eyes settled on your peaked nipples. He tilted his head slightly, and wet his lips. He bit his tongue then slid it across the roof of his mouth and back before shaking himself out of the trance. 

He continued bathing you in silence. He looked so hot, biceps bulging with every movement. His strokes were sensual and hit your skin just right. Your back arched and your eyes closed. 

After finishing with the sponge, he put it back in the sidecar.He brought handfuls of warm water up to your neck and chest to wash away the suds.

He paused the rinsing and broke the silence. His voice was soft and deep:

 “Do you ever think about, uh...” He paused. “If ya might like to—i mean….if I could do anything for ya—not just about blood, I mean–” He took a deep breath. “Guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, I know that’s when we normally do stuff, but we-”

With your eyes still closed, you found his hand and put it on your breast. 

“don’t have to wait,” he whispered, completing his thought. 

“Yeah,” you agreed with your eyes still closed.  

He slowly began to massage your breast, and when he thumbed your hard nipple, you moaned, “mm.” 

“That feel good?” he whispered. 

You nodded and your brow furrowed.

He kept doing what he was doing, and without stopping, he made his way behind your back at the end of the tub. Then, slotting his hands under your arms, he pulled you up in the water a little. He cupped your breasts from behind, and circled his thumbs around your nipples, making you take a deep breath. 

He murmured, “I’d do anything for ya.” 

‘Mmm,” you moaned, and he continued the motions of his thumbs 

“Anything to make ya feel good… and safe”

He covered your breasts with his palms, cupping them, then lightly moved his palms in circles over your nipples.

“Joel,” you whispered, “Mmm,” your back arched. “Don’t stop,” you pleaded. 

He continued with his palms, then slotted both nipples between his spread fingers. 

You moaned, and he lightly dragged his open fingers down your breasts, slow and light, each digit going up and down as it crossed your nipple. He dragged his fingers up again, and then went back to using his palms.

“I’m–” you began. “--mm”

He could see you squirming under the water, pressing your thighs together,  “Shhh,” Joel reassured you. “I know, sugar.” 

He cupped your breasts again, and you reached a wet hand out of the bath and dangled it behind you, groping for his crotch. He pushed his hips forward, and the hard shape in his soft pants met your wet hand. He took a deep breath, and so did you, and he watched your body writhe under his soft touch, until you released the most beautiful moan that echoed through the room. 

“Yeahh,” he cooed into your hair, “that’s it, that’s good.” 

Your body spasmed again, and he wrapped his arms around you as you finished your peak. You leaned your head back against him. He kept one arm around your chest, and cradled your head with the other.With an open mouth, he kissed your cheek slow and soft. 

“Mm,” you sighed.

“How ‘bout we get you dry?” he asked. “Then i’ll warm ya back up.” 

—---

Once you were dry, he carried you to the bedroom and laid you down gently on the smooth sheets, admiring your nude body. The room was dim, and he was still shirtless. He kneeled onto the bed and cautiously moved toward you. His face hovered over yours, and you admired his eyes, lips, and neck. Then you met his eyes, his face drifted closer, and he pressed his lips into yours. You kissed him back, and his pants grazed your bare thigh. 

“Uh,” you shifted under him. “Your pants are kinda wet.”  He looked down at himself, then asked, “Should I…” And you reached for his waistband to help him unbutton.

After discarding his pants on the floor, he was left in boxer briefs and the thick outline in them made your breath hitch. He got between your legs, and brought his face back to yours. 

He kissed you softly, and when you kissed back with hunger, he matched your intensity. Moaning into your mouth, he cradled  your head with his left hand. You slipped him your tongue and he accepted it gratefully. After a minute of kissing, his lips left your mouth and his hand slid down your head to your neck. On the other side of your head, he kissed down your jawline to your neck. He pulled back and studied his bite marks on your flesh, and you reassured him, “it’s okay.” 

Holding your neck gently, his massive hand made you feel small and delicate. His lips lightly brushed the overlapping sets of circular wounds in different stages of bruising. Then his nose brushed your skin. He sniffed around your jugular, down to your collarbone, then back up. His tongue brushed your tender skin lightly, then he pressed a soft kiss into the crook of your neck. 

“You can do it,” you offered. “You can take some.”

“No,” he declined. “That’s okay, sweetheart.” 

“You can, I like it,” you reminded him. 

“I know, I like it too, baby, but—doesn’t have to be every time, right? This is different…” 

“Sure,” you agreed with warmth rising to your cheeks. 

“Other ways I can make ya feel good,” he added. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“Want ya to feel safe,” he whispered, then kissed your neck again. “Want ya to know I can control myself.” 

You bit your lip, then whispered, “I know you can.” 

Joel’s kisses trailed from the side of your neck down to the dip in the center of your collar bone, where he dipped his tongue, then dragged his lips down your sternum. He cupped one of your breasts and moaned into the other. He licked the nipple, circled it with his tongue, then sucked. He kissed the outer curve of your breast, and the top, and the bottom, before kissing your nipple again. He moved to your other breast and suckled at it, breath getting heavier through his nose. He looked up at you with sparkling  eyes and murmured, “Every inch of you tastes like a dream.” 

You fingered his hair and he nuzzled his head into your touch, briefly closing his eyes.  You pulled him toward you and kissed him again. He laid his chest against yours and it made your skin buzz. 

“You’re warm,” you marveled. 

“I guess it’s you,” he explained. “Only when we’re this close.” 

“It feels good,” you whispered.

He leaned his forehead against yours. “It’s our skin together, sweetheart.” 

“Can I, um. Can I feel more of your skin?” you asked, and slid your toe up the side of his thigh to the edge of his boxer briefs. 

He paused and looked back and forth between your eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he answered. “Of course.” 

He shed his boxer briefs and gently held his cock against his happy trail, making his shaft press into the padding of his lower stomach. “I don’t wanna, uh.” 

“What?”

“Touch ya any way ya don’t want,” he answered. “Might not be what you’re used to, either.” He glanced down at himself. 

You reached toward his crotch and covered his hand with yours. “Can I feel?” you asked. 

He wet his lips and nodded, slipping his hand out from between your palm and his package. 

You palmed him and his cock was warm and stiff. It was commanding and uncut. Your palm gently nudged the smooth skin of his shaft, and he moaned with his eyes closed. 

“It’s so hard,” you gushed just above a whisper.

“That’s you,” he answered, “That’s your blood,” and those words seemed to heighten your lust and his. He gently held your neck again and kissed you on the lips like he needed you bad. You were still holding his stiff manhood, but wanted his body against yours. 

You broke away from his lips wih a moan and whispered, “I need your skin on mine.” 

You moved your hand, dropping his cock onto your mound, making you moan as you used both hands to cradle his head, then carded your fingers in his hair. His cock swelled against your clit and he subtly thrust against you. Your hips lifted to meet his rhythm and your chests heaved against each other. 

“You know how bad I wanna be inside you?” he asked. 

“Mmm,” you answered, “I can feel how bad.” He was throbbing hard against your front. 

“But we gotta trust each other first,” he said with a slow thrust against you. He closed his eyes and dipped his head so his cheek was touching yours. “God, I want it,” he whispered in your ear. “But I gotta earn your trust.” 

You lightly massaged his scalp with your fingertips and said, “I want it, too.” 

“Of course we do,” he said, and kissed you on the lips, long and soft, still slowly grinding on you. Then added, “We’re meant to satisfy each other.” 

He kissed you on the cheek, then the neck, and the forehead, slowly grinding his stiff cock against you, with the heat of his chest on yours. “The way we’ll fit together,” he panted, “like nothing we’ve ever felt.” He brushed your temple with his thumb and kissed you desperately, in rhythm with your bodies moving together. You moaned, and he added, “I’m tellin’ ya, sweetheart. ‘S’gonna be—ohh—celestial,” he breathed, and moaned again. He was leaking precum onto your tummy. “Whole other dimension,” he whispered, then kissed you again. “God damn,” he panted. “I gotta calm down,” he chuckled.

He pulled his hips back and his cock slid down, wet against your clit. He paused to let it rub against your cunt for just a moment before he pulled back more, and kissed his way down your stomach. He kissed the trail of his pre-cum, open-mouth, a sight that made you weak. The closer he got to your mound, he used his tongue more and more. Then he put your legs over his shoulders. 

He stared at your glistening cunt and whispered, “gorgeous,” then he nudged the bridge of his nose into your wetness as he sniffed up your folds. “God,” he whispered, then used his tongue, firmly licking up your cunt then circling your sensitive nub before giving it a long kiss. He licked into every hidden place of your warm, wet pussy and thrust his tongue into you. 

It wasn’t much different than when you had your period, except he started gentle before becoming voracious. He was soon insatiable, and tension was building in your gut. 

“Joel,” you sighed, and he kept going. “Oh, god,” you moaned, “Joel,” your legs curled, prompting him to look up at you with flickering eyes and a shiny face. 

“Sorry,” he exhaled. “It’s—it’s actually plasma,” he explained of your slick. So it was like blood to him in a way.  “God, it’s so good,” he gushed. He dove in for more, licking and sucking and drinking you down. 

When you were teetering right on the edge of bliss, you pleaded, “come back, c’mere,” and he obediently let your legs down. 

He prowled up your body and slid his cock through your folds before laying it hard against your mound. His warm chest and belly laid onto yours, and you groaned and your hips lifted upward. He slowly thrust against you and you began to cum, throbbing against his cock. 

He moaned your name and then, “oh, god,” and began to cum with his cock wedged between the two of you, gluing your bodies together. He sighed vocally, then his lips found yours again, and you kissed through your mutual climax. 

You broke away for air and gushed, “you feel so good,” wrapping your arms around him. 

He chuckled shyly and kissed your neck, then your cheek again, and your forehead. You looked each other in the eyes, and his irises still had a bit of that special shine. He kissed you, and stayed with his skin against yours, then asked, “you okay?” 

You nodded. 

“You okay if I clean up?” he asked, and you answered, “sure.” 

He apologized for the mess as he rolled over onto his back and his cum spread like glue between the two of you. 

You sniffed the air curiously, and he stopped to watch you. As the air of his semen and musk filled your nostrils, a soothing wave moved through your body. 

You asked, “can I, uh,” and dipped your finger into the mess on your tummy. He nodded enthusiastically and watched you bring your finger to your lips. 

You dipped your tongue and your tastebuds were transfixed. You quickly dipped your fingers down to your tummy, gathering as much of the spend as you could, and wrapped your lips around your fingers, closing your eyes and breathing through your nose as you tasted and swallowed it. 

“Good?” he asked

You just barely nodded with your fingers in your mouth and your eyes still shut.

Joel nodded, unsurprised. “‘cause it was made for you,” he said. You got up on your knees and he watched affectionately as you straddled his legs and brought your face to his lower abdomen. 

“Go ahead,” he started to say, but your tongue was already in his happy trail before he got the words out. You licked and slurped it up, and he chuckled, both at the sensation and your eagerness. 

Joel got a warm wet cloth and cleaned you up before cleaning himself and pulling his boxers back on. 

–

You laid together basking in the closeness of each other. You could feel your skin glowing, and his too.  He was face down with his arm over you, and you were really comfortable. 

After a while, he propped himself up to look at you and trailed his fingers down your sternum. 

 “I was, uh, gonna, go get the mail right about now,” he mentioned. “Overcast, just about sunset…” 

“Oh,” your face fell. “Okay.” You tried not to look too disappointed. 

“I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanna come?”

Your face lit up. “Really??”

“It’s just down the driveway,” he clarified. “Long driveway,” he added. 

“Yeah,” you nodded with bright eyes, and sat up. 

“Alright,”  he smiled, and kissed you. 

He went to your closet and brought you an outfit, then left while you used the restroom and got dressed. 

He returned with the leather cuffs, and you gladly handed him your wrist and let him link you together.

For the first time, you were standing right there as Joel opened the big, heavy front door. 

With your fingers interlaced with his, you stepped outside. 

—--

-----

-----

thank you so much for reading! i really value the affection you all express for him, and hope he's brought some comfort to you. Written with love <333

[maul-of-shame]

Underrated moment in 2x01, but look at that part when Galadriel asks Elrond, "Where are the rings?" She totally invades his space, and he allows it, staring at her, and then when she turns, her hair slaps his shoulder, and he blinks because she was that close to him.

Even when mad at each other, they're so intimate? Ughhhh, and Elrond's collarbone was all exposed too, he was so vulnerable-looking with Galadriel THAT close to him! I love it. 😭

This scene is soooooooooooooo underrated for REAL!!!

That scene is just chef’s kiss for all the subtle, electric tension it brings. When she asks about Cirdan, comes up to him furious, he just doesn’t move—like, no flinch, no blink, nothing.

It’s like he’s daring her to come closer, and she absolutely does.

They’re both heated, frustrated, and yet he keeps his eyes fixed on hers, completely unfazed by how close she is. And that eye contact? It’s like they’re both caught in this charged bubble, completely in sync but on opposite sides of this huge issue. He isn't the one who takes his hand away as well, she is the one who does it when he says she chose the path for him.

She was the first to grab his hand and he was holding onto it. Even when he's shown he's angry at her, because of her choices. Because of her trust in the rings and yet, he wasn't letting go of her hand, because, as we saw in many scenes: physical touch is their love language.

Sure there are words but these two always use their hands, holding each other, and so effing tender.

And then the hair moment—Galadriel spins, and her hair just whips his shoulder, and he blinks like he's trying to ground himself after feeling her that close. Even when they’re mad at each other, it’s this magnetic, silent communication that neither of them is breaking.

Plus, Elrond with his collarbone out, looking all vulnerable while she’s that close? The man doesn’t even try to defend his personal space; he’s just standing there, fully taking her in. He's so vulnerable, he could have pushed her away so many times in this scene, shushed her or anything but DIDN'T.

He even held her hand, stayed there and let her invade his personal space.

The fact that even when they’re on opposite ends of an argument, they’re so comfortable invading each other’s personal space—ugh, it’s like they’re saying, “Yes, we disagree, but we’re still right here with each other.”

They have this bond, this chemistry, this understanding they just don't have with other people and it's just so beautiful.

Like some sort of "I know you messed up, that I probably will mess up too, but I am here for you."

They're here for each other, in anger, in joy, in sorrow, in sadness,... For and through everything.

ALSO, side note probs but our girl looked at him when he was back o her to check if he was wounded. Her eyes take him in and even if she was upset/angry, her first instinct (after telling Gil to let her convince Elrond) was to check if Elrond had been wounded.

She didn't storm in right here in there to yell at him, she didn't grab him and smacked him into a wall, she checked if he had been wounded, rings aside and forgotten.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

you know, i’ve never really understood or given any thought as to why ootp had always been my favourite book of the franchise even as i was entering adulthood. but now, i can admit that harry’s inner turmoil and anxiety and staggering sense of hopelessness spoke to me in a way no other book had.

as a kid, i kept wondering why, just why i can understand so perfectly, why every stretch of page used for character analysis made so much sense to me, kept me focused and hungry to know more about how he dealt with everything.

but now i can clearly see that ootp is, in my opinion obviously, the most emotionally charged of the books for harry. it’s raw, it’s painful and it’s really fucking overlooked — his psychological and physical trauma, the loneliness, the anger.

which brings me to my two slightly related questions. how do you think the rest of the series would’ve played out from this moment of the timeline forward if:

sirius wouldn’t have died in the ministry raid, nor afterwards;

harry would’ve somehow found out about dumbledore’s schemes, gotten the whole picture of the man himself and just how much he has influenced his life.

OotP is indeed incredibly emotionally charged, and I love it. Just started reading it again cause I felt like it. Harry's anger in this book is *chef's kiss* I love Harry's anger with a passion and OotP is feeding me so well.

Now, for your questions:

1. If Sirius didn't die

Well, I think this potentially changes either everything or very little depends how you choose to write it. I think I wrote about this already a bit about it but I can't seem to find the post now...

Anyway, it really depends. Like, you could make it change basically nothing:

Like, the summers left for Harry might be a bit better if Sirius has cause to argue for Harry to come to live with him, if not, then Harry still stays less time at the Dursleys overall. Slughorn would still teach and so would Snape in sixth year, but Sirius would be free to help the Order more since he was exonerated by the ministry between books 5 and 6.

6th year would go down more or less the same except Sirius would tend to take Harry's suspicions about Malfoy and Snape more seriously. Whether that causes one of them to do something rash depends on the writer.

Dumbledore would still die at the end of the year though (because he's still picking up the ring) and book 7 would start more or less at the same point. Except Sirius would now be with the trio throughout the Horcrux hunt. So, there potentially won't be camping in the woods bit! Yay!

But, like, it doesn't change much. Especially because Harry didn't tell Ron and Hermione he was going to walk to his death so they wouldn't stop him, he isn't going to tell Sirius either. They might track down the Horcruxes quicker or slower, again, depending on the writer.

You can also choose to change everything and have Sirius as the DADA teacher in 6th year and have Dumbledore drag Harry to get the memory from Slughorn another way. Like, with most what-if scenarios, it's kinda up to the writer's interpretation.

2. Harry figures out everything

I don't think this changes much. I mean, in book 7 Harry has this very realisation. Hermione keeps insisting Dumbledore did care about him, but Harry doesn't really believe it. Harry never fully trusted Dumbledore and was never Dumbledore's man and in book 7 he does lose his faith in Dumbledore:

Dumbledore’s betrayal was almost nothing. Of course there had been a bigger plan; Harry had simply been too foolish to see it, he realized that now. He had never questioned that his own assumption: that Dumbledore wanted him alive. Now h saw that his life span had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate all the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had passed the job of destroying them to him, and obediently he had continued to chip away at the bonds tying not only Voldemort, but himself, to life! How neat, how elegant, not to waste any more lives, but to give the dangerous task to the boy who had already been marked for slaughter, and whose death would not me a calamity, but another blow against Voldemort. And Dumbledore had known that Harry would not duck out, that he would keep going to the end, even though it was his end, because he had taken trouble to get to know him, hadn’t he? Dumbledore knew, as Voldemort knew, that Harry would not let anyone else die for him now that he had discovered it was in his power to stop it. The images of Fred, Lupin, and Tonks lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into his mind’s eye, and for a moment he could hardly breathe: Death was impatient. . . .

(DH)

And Harry never would've ducked out becouse that's who he is. Depending on when he found out and under what circumstances, he might be angry, betrayed, sure. He might shout at Dumbledore like after Sirius' death in OotP, he might get depressed, he might lash out at everyone, but when the moment comes, Harry would always choose to walk to his death if he feels that is the only chance to defeat Voldemort.

Sirius, Ron, and Hermione would be the ones to argue against this more than Harry would. They would be the ones screaming at Dumbledore while Harry traps himself in his own mind, processing his own imminent demise. Just like the trio reacted in first year when Harry told Ron and Hermione Dumbledore planned for him to face Quirrelmort:

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….” “Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron proudly.

(PS)

Harry accepts it as something that needed to be done. That he was the person meant to face Voldemort because Voldemort is his responsibility. His burden to bear. Harry doesn't really care for his own life as much as he cares for others' lives. It's Ron and Hermione who are horrified and call Dumbledore insane on Harry's behalf. With the bigger plan leading to Harry's, it would be the same. Harry would accept it as what needs to happen and Ron and Hermione (and Sirius if he's there) are going to be the ones trying desperately to find another way.

Harry is going to be betrayed or angry, yes, but he would go along with the plan if he thinks it's what's best for everyone because it's who Harry is.

[0ciestiel0]

Brilliant Minds ep 7 musings:

5 mins in and Wolf is already backseat surgeon-ing Nichols. “That makes sense” yes wolf. Nichols is a very good surgeon. He knows what he’s doing.

They really wanna hit us in the feels this episode with Roman. Everything with him and Alex was just heartbreaking given the outcome. But Roman and Alex did get to be together for Romans last moments as heartbreaking as that is it’s also what both of them needed. They got to say goodbye. And most importantly Roman was finally heard after all this time and got to communicate his wishes. Again heartbreaking. But the storytelling was *chefs kiss*

Not Wolf and Nichols having a cute lil awkward moment in the doorway before giving Roman and Alex time alone. Like what was that look my dudes 👀 come on now.

Nichols giving Wolf a great lil pep talk, gonna need to watch that again a few more times. “I admire that about you.” You like him and everyone but Wolf can see it.

Letting Roman die at Wolf’s house is just so. EMOTIONAL. The storytelling in this episode is really top tier, even if it’s trying to hurt me.

Simon really coming off like an ass this episode. So is his mother. Wolf was the one most opposed to letting Roman die and she had the audacity to think he didn’t try hard enough? And of course it came down to hospital publicity and investors. While yes, that’s important, that technology could be life-saving/changing for all kinds of patients, Wolf is still absolutely right that doctors have an obligation to their patients. It seems highly unethical to force Roman to continue care he doesn’t want. And Simon and his mother KNOW THAT.

The kiss between Wolf and Nichols came earlier than I expected, I expected the end of the season earliest, but I’m ok with the way it happened and boy was it my favorite scene. Ok but Nichols lil pep talk is a close second. Loved seeing Wolf finally choose to let someone in, to choose wanting to be happy with someone. Bonus seeing Nichols follow Wolf as he pulls away from the kiss and then Wolf having the audacity to look surprised, like my dude YOU kissed HIM. Why are YOU surprised?

I’m sure they will have an obstacle or two since they didn’t go the slow burn route (sorry but slow burn means like 4 seasons minimum of build up not 7 episodes) but since ep two it was clear Wolf/Nichols were being written as love interests.

I wonder how different their relationship experience is between Wolf and Nichols. Teddy Sears mentioned a more causal/party style in an interview when talking about Nichols but we really haven’t had that shown in canon aside from Dustin from abs class and Wolf it seems just avoided relationships of most kinds. Seeing them navigate something with feelings will be interesting, since both may lack experience in that department.

I still need to know what happened to Wolf’s dad. Is he dead? Or in some long term car facility? The camping flashback makes me think dead but he told Roman he hadn’t seen his dad in a long time making it sound like he’s alive. I’m hoping we get that answer by the end of the season.

Also heartbreaking moment, Van learning Erika has feelings for Jacob. Like my dude really thought she liked him back. I was rooting for him tbh. Dana looked like she was picking up on a little bit of that.

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[goblinfables]

golden flowers

[kelin-is-writing]

He has the prettiest hands in the serie, we get it! Really! We do! 😭

[leopardom]

friendly reminder that this video exists

[merakiui]

SKULLY HAS RAIDED MERA'S BLOG!!!???

Skully over shining Zuzu?

UNFORTUNATELY...... yes,,, (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) WAAAA I AM SO SORRY, ZUZU!!!! My heart is just too big and I fell for the dead guy with his Victorian rizz and kiss addiction. I couldn't help it...... he charmed me. This obsession is terrible, dear Izuna!!!! OTL he's completely taken over my brain,,, a parasite that I can't shake!! >:(

He's so precious,,, my beloved King of Halloween, oh how I adore you most ardently. <3 I wish him nothing but peace and happiness forever hehe.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Favorite Buddie Moments Per Episode: 2x6 Dosed

[lamonnaie]

also love how it wasn't just a 1 episode reconciliation and happily ever after like so many other shows do?? like shin is obviously still angry and hurt (rightfully so), but he doesn't want to lose saint again, but he's had three years of hurt festering so it won't be that easy even though he knows deep down what he wants

just love how the show is giving their relationship the time to breathe and develop 🥹🥹

[patrickztump]

10 YEARS OF SAVE ROCK AND ROLL ✧ favorite lyrics

[dailyhermitdoodles]

[431] the new permit manager

Or as scar said: "hello God! :D"

[k-wame]

BARRY KEOGHAN 📸 via IG (keoghan92) for BURBERRY | LFW September 2023