#his eyes are intense jfc

[ghost-inthe-hall]

He's ridiculous

"Look but don't make it obvious!"

me:

[philiponmycracker]

I can't help myself, every once in a while I must celebrate this absolutely beautiful chemistry they had, it's so important to me

Tom Hulce and Ray Liotta, Dominick And Eugene (1988)

[hier--soir]

be good

no outbreak joel miller x f!reader

pairing: sub!joel miller x dom!f!reader summary: joel was never really the submissive type. until he met you, and realised he'd do whatever you asked of him. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no outbreak au, established relationship, strangers at a bar role play, dom!reader, sub!joel, dirty talk, joel miller is desperate, face sitting cunnilingus, f!masturbation, save a horse ride a cowboy, size kink, praise kink, light choking, mean!reader, pet names used for joel [honey, baby, sugar], orgasm denial, reader talks joel through it, 90% porn 10% plot lmao. word count: 7.6k masterlist a/n: folks i've been gagging for something with joel just being so good for his partner and [begrudgingly] doing whatever she tells him too... and then i listened to 'sex with me' by rihanna and got even more inspired so here we go. [i swear i will post something soon with an actual plot jfc]

He’d been watching you all night.

Pip’s Bar was busy. Though it wasn’t your usual haunt, it was one of the more popular spots in Austin, and on a Saturday night it was absolutely teeming with people. Strangers lined the bar, drinking and talking and trying fruitlessly to chase down two overworked bar tenders. A mass of bodies gyrated and swayed in the middle of the room, moving to the fast rhythm of a bassline that shook the rickety old floorboards. You were lost in the midst of it, dancing alone and yet connected to the foreign bodies that crowded you from every angle, suffocating you until you were slick with sweat and sticky from spilt alcohol. Swallowed whole by the writhing, heaving pack of dancers, your every breath and movement synced with theirs.

And he’d been watching you, all night.

He’d arrived at Pip’s not long after you. And since then, he had hardly moved from the same spot across the room. He leant against the wall, one hand gripping a glass and the other propped on his hip. He looked bored, uninterested in everything happening around him, and yet every time you glanced his way those eyes were already burning a hole into your skin. The truth was that he’d never had much patience for the whole thing, but you trusted he enjoyed it just as much as you did. Knew he’d do whatever you asked him to, even if it included going to a bar and pretending you were strangers. Even when it meant him watching you dance all night, rubbing yourself against strangers, and pretending you didn’t know him until one of you finally broke.  

Your arms stretched high above your head, hips swaying from side to side as you muttered the lyrics of the song underneath your breath. Once again, you glanced back in his direction while you danced. You allowed your torso to sway with the movements of your hips, hands dropping to rest lacklustre by your sides. You offered him a quick smile, but his face hardly moved, body rigid. He lifted the glass to his mouth, playing coy, and you chuckled under your breath, closing your eyes and revelling in the heavy bass that vibrated through your body. When you opened them again he was gone, the wall where he’d once stood now devoid of his presence. You didn’t give it much thought, until suddenly a pair of hands were on your waist, pulling you back against a solid body. A gasp of soft surprise exhaled from your mouth, and you felt the hands squeeze gently. When you turned around, there was already a sly smile was painted across your lips.

The dim lighting in the bar did him no justice; casting too many shadows across his strong jawline, his straight aquiline nose, hiding the perfect shade of his dark pink lips.

He stared down at you with a simmering intensity as you pressed your chest against his. The room was hot, and sweat beaded along your hairline, but it didn’t stop you from dancing slowly against him, gliding your curves against his body, maintaining eye contact all the while.

A faded denim button up covered his chest, the thin material doing nothing to disguise the toned, strong body beneath it. The fabric was slightly coarse, and it was rough against the thin mesh of your shirt. You always loved waiting to see what he would wear, how he would dress up for you. Tonight’s shirt was new, something he’d bought specifically for the occasion, and you loved it. Your nipples hardened a little, and you smirked as he snaked an arm around your waist to press his palm to the spot in between your shoulder blades, holding you against him.

“What’s your name?” you asked over the music, noting the way his eyes drifted to your mouth when you spoke. God, he was so easy.

“Joel.” Those deep, brown eyes bore into your own, drinking in the details of your face as his hips moved slowly against yours. He was always antsy to get this part over and done with, but he played along for you.

“Are you single?” you asked, revelling in the way his mouth went to respond before his brain could catch up. The beginning of the word no formed on his lips, and you almost grinned at how loyal he was, even when you wanted him to lie.

“Yes,” he said.

“You’ve been watching me all night, Joel.”

You reached up to fix his collar where part of it had been turned up. He didn’t respond immediately, mulling his thoughts over in his head, contemplating what he thought you might want to hear.

“It’s okay,” you spoke again when you sensed he was overthinking it, allowing your hand to glide down his shoulder and over the firm muscles of his upper arm. “I liked it.”

“And your name?” he asked, almost shouting to be heard over the music. You smirked at the deep bellow of his voice; at the way it gave the pumping music a run for its money. The thick, Texan drawl of it always managed to spark a fire in your belly.

When you told him, he repeated your name slowly, as if it were foreign to him; rolling it around in his mouth, tasting out the syllables on his tongue. The hand on your back held strong, and you could almost feel the individual tips of his fingertips leaving indents in your skin.

A gyrating body jostled into you from the side suddenly, and you stumbled forward. Joel tightened his grip on you, keeping the both of you standing up right. You flashed him a grateful smile, and your eyes dipped to stare at his mouth. The urge to kiss him was strong, but you held yourself back, knowing the payoff would be worth it if you could just hold off a little longer.

You didn’t waste much time though. “What brings you to Pip’s? Y’here to meet someone?”  

A spark of desire flashed through his eyes, and his grip tightened inconceivably. Your body thrummed with excitement as you gained the upper hand so successfully, and so quickly. Joel cleared his throat, face relaxing back into a neutral expression.

“Didn’t want to come here at all,” he spoke plainly, glancing down to where your chests rubbed together. His eyes trailed over your torso, the mesh fabric of your shirt allowing him a full view of your breasts, clad in a thin lace bra. “Brother dragged me along.”

You hummed, almost grinning at the mention of Tommy, who would blush beet red if he knew what the two of you were doing at Pip’s. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he beat you to it.

“Did you?” he asked quickly. “Come here lookin’ for someone?”

You quirked an eyebrow and shook your head once. “No, I didn’t.” Bold faced lie.

His left hand rested on your hip, and he squeezed your waist once, holding your midriff solidly against his own. You could feel his heart beating, a rapid badoom badoom badoom that knocked rhythmically against your sternum. You draped an arm around the back of his neck, gripping the collar of his shirt.

“But maybe I could be persuaded,” you spoke slowly, testing the waters. “If you’re good.”

His eyes darkened a shade at your wording, and a soft exhale rushed out of his mouth, breezing against your face. His lips were a hairsbreadth away from touching yours, but he hesitated, eyes flickering back up to yours, as if asking for permission. Perfect.

You kissed him gently at first, slotting your lips against his and moving tentatively, exploring him as if it were the first time. His hold on you stiffened as he pressed back, running his tongue eagerly along the seam of your mouth. Your hand drifted from his collar to his hair and you gripped it softly, tugging on the wavy curls. Joel was taller than you, and yet he was crouching somewhat, so that your mouths would be level. Simplifying things for you; always so eager for the game to end. He struggled with it – the standing across the room, watching you, waiting for you to invite him over with a smile. But after an hour of dancing, you were willing to let him have it.

You parted your lips and allowed him to swipe his tongue greedily into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and mint and soda water. It burnt your mouth, and inspired a dull ache in your abdomen. He gained confidence, kissing you harder, deeper, and so you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make him pause. A warning.

You pulled away. “Have you been drinking, Joel?”

His chest rose and fell quickly. Lips swollen and red. You could feel him pressing against your stomach, already half-hard from just a little kiss. Poor baby, so desperate.

“Only had two.” His voice was stilted. “I drove here.”

“Good,” you nodded, gripping his hand and leading him out of the throng of dancing bodies.

“Good?” Joel shouted back, eyebrows raised.

“Good that your car is here,” you clarified. “Means you can drive us back to my place.”

Joel walked through your apartment like he’d never been there a day in his life, and you adored him for it.

He rested on the edge of your bed, nursing a cold beer that you’d swiped from the fridge for him. He stuck out in your bedroom, but you suppose he always had. The queen-sized bed looked like a double with him on it, his broad frame taking up most of the mattress. And the contrast between your floral wallpaper and his dark, masculine figure was so stark that you almost giggled as you watched him from across the room. His eyes felt heavy on you, following you wherever you moved, lest he miss a single thing. They raked over your figure, basking in the bare flesh you had on show, monitoring your hands as you removed your jewellery and discarded it. It caused a prickling heat to rise across your skin, and you liked it – the way he seemed so eager, so uncontained.

“What’re you doin’ all the way over there?” Joel asked. His fingers were long, wrapping around the entirety of the beer bottle, making it look miniscule in his grip.

You bent to take off your shoes. “I’m admiring you.”

His lips pursed, beer bottle pausing in the air halfway to his lips. When he spoke, his voice was deeper somehow. “Well, you should come over here.”

“Would you like that?” you straightened up, smiling sweetly.

“Yes,” he responded. His voice was measured, quiet. But you could tell he was frustrated by your relaxed demeanour. It was always the way it went. Joel was so impatient. He knew what was going to happen, knew what awaited him, and he couldn’t fucking stand the tension build up.

“Maybe if you’re good,” you winked, padding over to where he sat. You stood over him, knees brushing against knees.

“I can be good,” he spoke gruffly, depositing his beer bottle on the ground with a gentle clink.

“Is that so?” you asked softly, pulse quickening. He nodded, wiping his palms on his jeans before splaying them on the bed beside him. A slick heat had formed in your underwear, the near-ruined material sticking uncomfortably to your skin. “You’re gonna do what I want? Whatever I ask of you?”

You could see the way his jeans tightened over his crotch, cock clearly straining against the rough material at your words. He swallowed, nodding again. Slowly, so slow it was painful, you leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. His scent filled your nostrils and you inhaled it deeply, sighing against his mouth as everything that was Joel Miller invaded your senses. Your tongue flicked against his mouth and then you were dragging it past his lips, over his teeth, rolling it against his own tongue. A warm, heavy hand gripped the waistband of your pants and long fingers fumbled with the button, but you pulled back, tutting as you shoved his hands away from you. He looked dejected, wet lips parted as he frowned up at you.

“Take your clothes off,” you ordered softly, and he grunted, but did as you asked. “And then lay on the bed.”

Making quick work of it, he stripped out of his shirt and jeans, tossing them haphazardly into the corner of the room. Finally, he tugged his briefs down, before laying back on the mattress.

Splayed on the bed, not a single inch of Joel Miller was left to the imagination. His body sunk into the soft blankets on the bed, and his cock stood at painful attention. It gave you pause, as he stared at you, and you stared at his cock. He was big—bigger than most guys you’d slept with in the past—and he knew it too. Had always been proud of the fact. His tip was ruddy and swollen, with a small pearl of pre-come resting on his slit, taunting you. A thick, pulsing vein travelled down the side of him. You thought about how he would taste, in that moment. How heavy he would be on your tongue, how your jaw would ache, and you’d struggle to breathe as his tip glided against the back of your throat. You were salivating just thinking about it.

“You like what you see?”

You simply took your clothes off in response. Taking your time, you dragged your shirt over your head before peeling your trousers off, underwear following it and landing in a pile on the floor until you stood naked as the day you were born. Joel watched closely, dark eyes monitoring your hands as you removed layer after layer. His gaze dipped to the spot between your thighs, and you saw his cock twitch.

You straddled his thighs, resting just above his knees and taking care not to make contact with his length. As soon as you settled above him his hands rested naturally on your waist, gripping and kneading the flesh beneath his palms. You decided to allow it, just for a moment, as your gaze travelled down his chest and the dark smattering of hair there, past his happy trail, all the way to where he wanted you the most.

His hips shifted on the mattress, cock bobbing against the soft flesh of his tummy and leaving a shiny smear where the tip brushed his skin.

“So handsome,” you traced your fingers over his stomach. “You’ve got such a pretty cock, Joel.”

“Yeah?” he grunted, eyes trained on your hands as they wandered toward his hips. The power you felt in moments like this were unmatched. With this broad, strong man laying beneath you, completely at your mercy, hanging on the precipice of your every word. Even if he struggled to admit it, even when it seemed like he was using all of his will power to let you have your fun, you both knew that you were in charge. And it was invigorating.

“Yes,” you implored, your heart warming at the way his chest seemed to puff with pride at your words.

Your fingertip traced alone his hipbone and he shivered at the featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across his skin. “So pretty and thick. I love it like that, you know? When it’s so big that it hurts at first. No matter how wet I am, there’s still that sting.” You dug your nails into the soft of his upper thigh to emphasise your point. He didn’t respond, eyes darkening as he watched you.

“So big that it fills me up until it’s like I can’t breathe, and I’m so cock drunk that I can’t focus on anything except you and how deep you are.” You placed your spare hand on your lower stomach, splaying your fingers. “When I can feel it here.”

Joel’s breathing had started to labour, chest rattling as heavy exhales drifted through parted lips. His hands dragged from your waist to the crease where your thigh met your hips, and his grip was bruising. You knew he loved it when you talked like that, knew it drove him crazy. And you couldn’t deny it made a fresh wave of heat roll through your stomach to think about him stretching you out just right.

“And I love this,” you continued softly, dragging your fingers from his thigh to graze the moustache that rested above his top lip. He smirked at that, tongue darting out to swipe at your fingers. Your stomach tensed at the feeling of the wet muscle touching you, pussy fluttering around nothing, devastatingly empty. 

Joel whispered your name against the palm of your hand. Smiling, you traced the tip of your index over his lips before pressing down, watching it slide easily into his mouth. He closed his lips around the digit immediately, grazing his teeth over it before sucking gently.

“Oh, you’ve got such a pretty mouth,” you said. “You gonna show me what you can do with it?”

He moaned around the digit, strong hands pulling your hips forward so you were edging your way up his torso.

“Mmh,” you hummed lowly, dragging your soaked finger from his mouth. You tapped it once against his left hand and gave him a sly smile. “But none of this, okay? I don’t want to feel your hands on me, not for a second. Do you understand?”

Joel’s brow furrowed, eyes dimming as he slowly pried his fingers away from your flesh, lowering his hands to rest in the sheets.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” he asked softly, tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip.

You nodded, using your knees to shift further up his chest until you were hovering just above his collarbones. Joel’s eyes darted between your thighs, and a soft sigh left his lips as he gazed at the way your lips had parted ever so slightly, giving him a glimpse of your glistening core. When you paused there for a moment too long, he looked back up to your face, expression almost begging you to movepleasejustmovejustalittlebitcloser.

So you put him out of his misery; rested your knees on either side of his head before lowering your aching cunt to meet his mouth.

Joel groaned in relief as his nose buried itself in your hair, tongue darting out to swipe between your soaked folds. You gasped in delight, rutting yourself against him in encouragement. The coarse hairs of his moustache scraped against your clit and you whined at the sensation, reaching up to rest your hands atop the headboard.

Joel licked a firm stripe up your core with the flat of his tongue, and your shoulders tensed as he set to work. He wasted no time setting a hard and fast pace, letting out messy groans as his tongue rubbed firm circles around your clit. You exhaled heavily, teeth biting down on your lower lip. He dragged his tongue to your entrance and dipped it inside you, so quickly that you flinched, before he was back to rubbing your clit, swiping the tip of his tongue back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He was so overzealous, so hungry for it; exhaling hot air against you while he lathed sloppy kisses against your pussy.

“Hey,” you rasped, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. Joel didn’t let up, simply flicking his tongue across your clit again. You jolted, tightening your grip in his hair and inching your hips away from his face. “Hey.”

His eyes flashed open, lips parting as his mouth tried to follow you when you pulled away.

“Wha—?” he couldn’t finish his sentence as you took his bottom lip between your thumb and index finger, squeezing it once.

“Slow down,” you said firmly. His cheeks flushed. “Moving that fast, a girl might start to think you’re trying to get it over with as quick as possible.”

Joel shook his head in a daze, mumbling a meagre apology against your fingers. Those big browns gazed up at you, wide and sad, reminiscent of a Labrador being told off for eating his dinner too fast. You pressed back down over his face, murmuring a gentle reminder for him to go slow.

He was soft then. Meticulous. Calculated. Every lick, every suck, every graze of teeth, was thought out and purposeful. You could feel more slick oozing out of you as his tongue massaged the flesh between your clit and your entrance.

“That’s it,” you praised breathlessly. “That’s perfect, doing—ohh—doing so well for me.”

Within minutes he had you on the edge, holding the headboard in a white-knuckle grip and grinding down against his mouth as breathy moans fell from your lips. It was reverent, the way he ate you out like it was his favourite thing to do in the world. And as liquid fire began to twist in your stomach, and your thighs burned with the intensity of holding yourself up above him, you could swear you felt him moving. Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you bit down on your lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to escape you at the sight of him.

The muscles of his long tanned legs were tense, the soft flesh of his hips flexing as he thrusted upward subconsciously, his leaking cock desperately seeking for contact but being rewarded with nothing but the humid air of your bedroom.  

You thought about how easy it would be to turn around. To lean down and take him in your mouth. To slide your lips over his head; to taste his salt while his tongue glided through your folds. Just the thought had you careening over the edge, body jerking as you gasped and sighed and grinded the swollen mess of yourself down against his face. Joel moaned gratefully, dark eyes flicking open to watch you as you came. You could feel him everywhere; his facial hair scraping against your twitching inner thighs as his nose bumped against your clit and his tongue lapped at your entrance, sucking and swallowing down everything you had to offer until you were gasping and prying yourself away.

On shaking legs, you made your way back down his body. As you moved, you rubbed your pussy against his torso, smearing a shimmering trail of your slick across his skin. Joel let out a brief, wrecked moan, stomach tensing as you passed over it and then lifted yourself up. His pink tongue darted out to swipe at his lips, savouring the glistening remnants of your taste. Resting on your knees, you hovered above him, smiling breathlessly.

“Fuck.” You admired the sight, pouting your lips out teasingly. “Made such a mess on you, I’m sorry, baby.”

“Jesus.” His voice was pained. “S’perfect.”  

“And it’s all for you,” you hummed, trailing a finger absentmindedly over his collarbone. “You looked so pretty like that. All messy haired and fucked out while I rode your face. So good for me, I’m tempted to let you go down on me all night.”

“I want to,” Joel exhaled heavily. A soft blush had risen across his chest, and he glowed under the shower of praise. “Think about it all the time.”

“Is that right?” you asked demurely.

“S’right,” he mumbled. “Think about the way you taste. About spreading you out and spending hours with my head between your thighs.”

The words were so hot they almost made you forget about the game you were playing.

You looked down, brain shifting gears and mouth going dry at the sight of your puffy lips hovering so beautifully close to the tip of his cock. He was so hard it looked painful. Stiff and pulsing, the vein down the side of his length visibly throbbed. Pre-come dripped down his length, pooling at the base of him.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, and Joel looked down, groaning at the sight of you so close to where he was just aching. With a soft gasp, you noticed yourself begin to drip. “Look at that.”

Together, you watched a strand of your slick drip out of you, and land directly on the tip of his cock. Joel’s entire body jolted, and a pitiful moan escaped his mouth at the first stimulation he’d received all night. On instinct, his hands rushed forward and gripped your hips, stomach tensed as he thrusted upward into the air. You could see it in his eyes, the burning desire to grab you and pull you close, roll on top of you and just split you open. But this was your night, and you were the one calling the shots.

You tutted softly. “I said, hands off. Don’t make me tie them to the bed,” you clipped. He cursed, hands dropping immediately. “Mmh, you’ll do whatever I tell you to, won’t you?”

He whispered your name hoarsely, lips shifting below his wet moustache.

You ignored him, smiling at the way his cock twitched whenever you spoke. “So needy, so fucking desperate for me to touch you.”

“Yes,” he admit to it through gritted teeth. “God, fuckin’—please. Anything, I’ll do anything. Need to feel you, please baby, I need it.”

You hummed quietly, pondering as you gazed down at the sweaty mess of a man beneath you. “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls, huh handsome?”

His lips parted, harsh exhales rushing past chapped lips. “Only you,” he said firmly.

The corner of your mouth twitched up and you gave an approving nod, admiring the sincere gleam in his eye.

“Good boy,” you murmured. He groaned softly, eyes almost closing at the words. “But I’ve decided I don’t think I’ll use my mouth on you tonight. Or my hands, for that matter.”

Joel frowned, lips curling into a deep grimace as he twisted the sheets in his fists.

“Because,” you continued. “All I want your cock to feel, all night, is my cunt. Nothing else. Do you understand?” 

His jaw slackened and then he was nodding, muttering yeahokayyesyes.

“Yes what, Joel?”

“Please,” his voice cracked.

A wide grin spread easily across your face as you shuffled down the bed, settling your knees on either side of his waist.

“You such a tease,” he groused under his breath.

“Uh-huh,” you chuckled darkly. “And we both know you love it.” He stayed silent, knowing you were right, and watched as you splayed a hand across his stomach, using his body for leverage as you—finally—pressed your folds against his cock. Joel’s stomach tightened as you glided along his length, spreading your slick from his head to his base.

“Can I…?” he trailed off, eyes darting from your face and to where the two of you were touching. You nodded once, unable to look away as he reached down to grip himself, strong fingers wrapping around his length and squeezing once while he notched his tip at your entrance. The lingering sensitivity from your previous orgasm had you shuddering at the contact, walls contracting at the thought of him finally being inside of you.

You pushed his hand away swiftly, placing it back onto the bed. A harsh gasp ripped from your throat as you sunk down on him, gravity taking away any chance for your body to adjust to him slowly. The stretch stung a little, and your mouth hung open, spilling breathy whines.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard Joel exhale, voice ragged.  The muscle in his jaw moved underneath his skin, the muscles in his arms straining as he focused all of his willpower on not fucking touching you. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered. “Y-you’re so deep, stretching me out so good, just how I like it.” You tightened around him and a deep groan tumbled from Joel’s mouth, lids fluttering as his eyes all but rolled back into his head. You wiped the sweat off his forehead and cupped his cheek in your palm.

“Talk to me, honey,” you ran the pad of your thumb across his cheekbone. “Tell me how it feels.”

He grunted, heady brown eyes opening to peer up at you. His hips flexed beneath you and you bit your lip to stop from crying out at the way his cock shifted inside you. Slowly, knees painful from the pressure, you lifted almost entirely off him, before sinking back down. And then you did it again, and again, setting a deliberately unhurried pace and never once taking your eyes off his face.

The room already smelt like sex, a heady mixture of sweat and come, and a warm fog settled over your mind as the moment enveloped you.

You rotated your hips in a circle and delighted in the way he slammed the palm of his hand down onto the bed, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip. His eyes were half-shut, vision drifting to the ceiling as his head sunk into the pillow behind him. Within a second your hand tightened on his face, fingertips pressing gently into either side of his jaw, angling his face back towards you. His eyes flashed open, fully alert now.

“Look at me,” you whispered. “Wanna see those pretty eyes on me while I fuck you.”

He groaned at the words, pushing himself up into a seated position so your chests were almost touching. The new angle made you moan, and you loved the way the softest part of your stomachs brushed against each other every time you lowered your hips against his. Maintaining your hold on his face, you knocked your forehead lightly against his, nudging his nose with yours.

“Come on,” you urged, speeding up the rhythm just a little. “Tell me, baby, I—fuck—I wanna hear you. Do you feel good?”

“Yes,” he choked out. His voice was rough and wanton with need, and he wet his lips quickly upon hearing it. He almost looked shy, with his flushed cheeks and pouted swollen lips.

You hummed, hand drifting from his cheek to hover over his neck. Joel stiffened, nose pressing against your cheek as his head dropped forward doggedly. You let your fingertips graze the side of his neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s apple.

“Is this what you want?” you murmured.

“Yes,” he repeated against your skin and you grinned, applying soft pressure on either side of his neck.

He moaned a low, tortured sound in response, and you leaned back to watch his mouth hang open as the sensation heightened everything he was feeling. With your free hand you stretched down to take one of his off the bed, and placed it firmly on the plush globe of your ass cheek. Joel’s eyes shot open in surprise, hand tightening instinctively.

He squeezed, gripping the flesh so tight it had you gasping, taking full advantage of the new freedom he’d been afforded. He used his hold to push you up and down faster, quickening the pace of your hips. And every time he bottomed out, he held you down on him for a second longer than you’d planned to allow, ensuring you felt every inch of him, every ridge and vein as he throbbed inside you, pressing against the deepest part of your core. You could already feel bruises forming where the tips of his calloused fingers squeezed you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Until you began to notice the signs, that is – the way his jaw slackened and his eyes glazed over. Relaxing your grip on his neck, you instead stroked your fingers along the skin there, feeling his thrumming pulse; listening to his hoarse laboured breaths; watching the way the rise and fall of his chest had rapidly increased. His cock twitched inside you.

“C’mon,” you whispered. “Tell me.”

“M’so fuckin’ close,” he garbled out mindlessly.

“Yeah?”

 “Y’feel so good,” he gasped, words slurring together. “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, s’like you were made f’me.”

“Mmm, I know,” you hummed, dropping your hand to press down over his stomach. The muscles contracted under your fingers, tensing over and over again as you moved along his cock. “But you can’t come yet, Joel.”

His eyes snapped to your face, lips silently forming your name.

“I mean it,” you warned in a low voice, hips never ceasing their movement. “I’m not done with you.”

“You can fuck me again,” he shook his head. His face all but crumpled, pupils blown so wide that his eyes were almost entirely black. “Can fuck me as many times as you want, do whatever you want with me.”

You grinned breathlessly. “I know.”

“Please,” his voice cracked, abdomen tensing as you sunk down on him with a particularly heavy thrust. A high-pitched moan left your lips as you grinded your clit against the coarse hair at his base. “M’so close, darlin’.”

“No, Joel,” you admonished quickly, tone clearly too condescending for his liking.

Anger flashed across his face. Sharp and fast, but impossible to miss.

“Fuck you,” he hissed. You clenched around him without meaning to, the fire in your abdomen burning hotter as you watched his patience wane.

Swallowing down a moan, you gave him a measured look, and stopped moving entirely, relaxing your thighs against his.

“That’s not very nice,” you ground out. Joel’s expression loosened, panic glinting in his eyes. “What ever happened to southern hospitality, huh sugar? Do you think you deserve anything if that’s how you’re going to talk to me?” Not waiting for a response, you lifted your hips up, and his cock began to slide out of you painfully slow.

“No, no,” his hands lifted off the bed, hovering warily in the air over your thighs. “Wait, m’sorry, fuck—”

You ignored him, lifting up until you were completely separated. You gasped in unison at the loss, and you fought against the voice in your head that told you to just forget it – to end the entire charade. But you held strong.

“Is that any way to speak to a woman?” you teased, resting your ass on the meat of his thighs. The corners of his mouth were downturned, eyebrows furrowed as he stared despondently at you, face the picture definition of frustration. His length hung heavy in between you, glistening with a thin layer of slick and pre-come.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated softly, and your stomach twisted at the earnestness in his eyes. He meant it, and you knew that. Your sweet, kind, loving man… so quick to temper. And forgiving him too fast would be just setting a bad example.  

“You know I can do this without you,” you lied dolefully, stroking a hand along the damp skin of your own thigh. “You’re nothing special, y’can’t do anything I couldn’t do just as well to myself.”

His frown deepened at your words, hurt flashing across his features. But he knew better than to speak in that moment – knew better than to dig himself into an even deeper hole by trying to argue.

“I want you to watch me,” you ordered sternly, fingers stroking thoughtfully through the coarse hair on your mound. “And if you touch me, or yourself, I won’t make you come tonight. Not even once. If you want to touch yourself so badly, be my guest, but you’ll be finishing yourself off.”

Dark eyes flashed down, jaw flexing as he watched your fingers dip to slide between your folds. You let out an exaggerated sound, gaze trained on the way his eyes devoured your movements. You spotted the muscle in his bicep tightening and loosening intermittently, and noticed that he was gripping the bedsheets so tight that you almost worried they would tear.

Moving carefully, you trailed a finger to the apex of your core and began to run circles over your clit, humming genuinely as the pleasure that had been building inside of you was reignited.

It used to make you shy, the way you touched yourself. The way your brain would run hazy with pleasure, and your hands would take on a mind of their own, grazing over your body as you shivered beneath your own touch. But now? It made you feel fucking formidable. The way you squeezed your breasts, made yourself gasp as you pinched and rolled your nipples. To rub a hand over your lower stomach and press against the soft flesh there, putting pressure on all the nerves underneath the skin to stimulate your g-spot. You were greedy, never stinging away or pulling back from what you knew felt good. It was intoxicating, knowing every intricate part of what made your own body tick. And you knew for a fact that it was like a drug to Joel to see you touch yourself. 

His dark eyes glared at your fingers, awestruck as he watched your movements, tongue swiping greedily over his lips as if in an attempt to taste you again. And when you moaned, he did too, soft groans slipping past his lips and hands fisting in the bedsheets as he watched your fingers disappear inside yourself over and over again.

“That’s it,” Joel said roughly. “Add another finger for me, wanna see you stretch yourse—.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, refusing to do as he asked. He grunted, lips pursing closed. “You like watching me like this? Seeing how I touch myself?” He moaned his assent, raking a hand through his unruly curls.

You were already so high strung, so pent up, that it didn’t take long for you to bring yourself to the precipice. And as you approached to your end, expression contorting in pleasure, Joel’s eyes dragged upward to focus on your face instead of your pussy. Devastated, his eyes flicked once back down to your slick fingers, unsure of what he wanted to see more, before steadfastly holding eye contact with you. And as the high washed over you in sharp, twitching waves, he held your gaze, eyes raking across your features and delighting in the way your jaw hung open in a stupor. 

You rode the waves of your pleasure for a moment, only the stopping the ministrations of your soaked fingers when your clit began to burn with oversensitivity. Your eyes slowly flicked open to find Joel’s gaze still trained on your face, although his expression was lax now. His lips formed a small, somewhat dazed smile, and you felt heat rise in your neck at the way he stared at you. All lust forgotten for a moment, he simply watched.  

“What’re you lookin’ at?” you teased softly, your own mouth lilting into a grin.

“I’m admirin’ you,” he repeated your words from earlier in the night, and you huffed out a short laugh.

“You were so good, Joel,” you responded kindly, leaning forward on trembling legs to cup his face. “So patient, let me fuck myself on top of you and didn’t try to touch me once. Did everything I asked, just like you said you would.”

“Of course,” he murmured, turning to press a chaste kiss to the inside of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

Confusion flitted through you, and then you relaxed, remembering the way he had cursed at you. “It’s okay, honey. Why don’t you c’mere?”

Still smiling, he pushed back into a seated position, this time pressing his chest flush to yours. You looped an arm around his neck, toying with the short curls at the base of his neck as he lined himself back up to your entrance. Once he was in position, he gave you a quick look to check in, and in response you simply sunk your hips over him, letting him fill you to the brim once more. He sighed in relief, forehead pressing against yours.

Tilting your chin forward, you dragged your lips lightly across his, kissing him for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Where do you want to touch me?” you asked.

“Everywhere,” he breathed into your mouth.

Your fingers tightened on the back of his neck, tongue trailing lazily along the seam of his lips. “Then touch me, baby.”

His hands were on you in a second. Calloused palms running over the skin of your back, your shoulders, your hips, fingers gripping flesh for leverage as he began to fuck up into you. He had always been an attentive lover, with a keen eye for attention to detail. And it was never as apparent as when he was touching you. Because as he held you against his chest, dragging you harshly over his cock, he did everything just the way you liked it - the way you did it when you were touching yourself.

His palm pushed on your lower stomach, applying pressure there to intensify the feeling against your g-spot. And when your hands drifted to touch your breasts, his hands came up to cover yours, and you squeezed them together until he brushed your hands away to twist and play with one of your nipples, mouth dropping to flick his tongue against the other.  

It was intoxicating. Both of you so drunk on the feeling of each other, of finally throwing out the pretence and just being together, that you found yourself hurtling towards the edge faster than ever.

As if he read your mind, Joel’s mouth left your breast, face pulling back to watch you, saying “I’m not gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” you panted heavily. “You can—I want you to come.”

“Need to feel you,” he frowned, shaking his head dizzily. “Want to feel you come around me, please.”

“I will,” you swore. “Come on, give it to me.”

“It’s yours,” he whimpered, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you to him. “Fuckin’ take it, it’s yours.”

His hips begun to falter in their movement, and you picked up the slack with ease, rotating your hips against him to maintain the pace he’d set. His cock jumped inside of you in quick, jerking movements, and as soon as you felt his hot release inside you, your own orgasm hit like a freight train, walls pulsing around him, sucking him in as deep as you could take him. Your vision blacked out for a second, the intensity of multiple orgasms finally catching up to you and making you almost lightheaded. Extended moans and laboured breaths mingled in the air, forming a raucous symphony as you rode out your highs. Sweat beaded across his temples and dripped down the hard lines of his face. Your lower half shook with the intensity of it, thighs bracketed firmly against the outside of his hips. Joel sung your name, wet lips pressing the word into the flesh of your neck and repeating it there, embedding it into your sweat-soaked skin like it was all he knew how to say anymore.

“Fuuck,” he dragged out once your hips stopped moving, his teeth nipping gently against your pulse point.  

“Oh honey,” you murmured, head lolling forward to peck his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re throwing in the towel? I seem to remember you saying something about how I could fuck you again, and do whatever I want with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” his shoulders shook as he laughed quietly, keeping his face hidden in the crook of your neck. “Give me a damn minute.”

Although you could feel his length softening inside of you, and a mix of both of your come was steadily seeping out past his girth to make a mess of your thighs, you didn’t move just yet. And Joel seemed more than content to stay put, his strong arms enveloping your body almost entirely as he held you against his chest, breaths slowly beginning to even out. You shifted your head to the side to peer at his face, smiling when you saw that his eyes had indeed fallen shut.

“Lay down,” you encouraged quietly, letting out a quiet huff of surprise when he simply fell backwards into the mattress, dragging you down with him. Adjusting your legs to rest more comfortably on either side of him, you laid your head against his collarbone, pressing soft kisses to the burning skin of his chest.

“Just a minute,” he mumbled in assurance, although his eyes stayed closed and his breaths deepened.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly. “Can I get you some water? Something to eat?”

He hummed; eyes cracking open to peer blearily at you. “Water sounds about right.” You nodded, moving to get up from the bed, but he held you down, palm solid on your lower back. “Not just yet though,” he added quickly. “Just stay with me for a minute.”

“Okay baby,” you kissed his collarbone, allowing him a few more minutes of rest before you forced him to drink a litre of water and allow you to clean him up. His fingers mindlessly traced a pattern onto the skin of your back, stirring goosebumps across your flesh.

Slowly, a smirk slid across your face and you tilted your chin up to gaze at him once more. “Just saying though—you should probably get out of here before my boyfriend gets home. He’s pretty quick to anger, and I have a feeling he’d kill you if he found out what we just did.”

Joel groaned loudly, hand reaching up to press over your mouth and muffle your laughter. “Jesus, do you ever stop talking?”

[peachdues]

someone get a crowbar and pry these two off each other jfc

MDNI. Explicit sexual content.

COMPASS MASTERLIST HERE

Whenever you’re around, Sanemi has a hard time keeping his body to himself.

Your physical relationship is intense, especially throughout those first few weeks. Sanemi can hardly keep his hands off you, and you’re no better. Not even the layers of each other’s clothing is enough to dissuade you, when the mood strikes. All it takes is one brush of his hand against your waist, or a touch that lingers slightly too long, and the two of you are on each other like a pair of spring rabbits.

Naturally, the fact that the two of you have to sneak around to a degree only further excites you both. It’s an extra layer of exhilaration, the feeling that what the two of you do is somehow forbidden, and that makes makes it all the harder to resist sneaking into corners of the bookstore to have it out.

And have it out you do.

Never in his life has Sanemi had as much sex — or consistently gotten off as quickly — as he has with you. Maybe that’s because he’s with his dream girl and he’s so in love with you that it makes him stupid. Or, maybe Sanemi has just finally found someone whose sex drive outpaces his own. Either way, he’s thrilled about it.

And the more time you spend exploring one another, the more your confidence grows. No longer is he the only one initiating; by July, you have no qualms about telling him exactly what it is you want — what you need.

Like that afternoon he’d managed to sneak over to the bookstore. It’d been about five days since he’d last seen you, and truly, he hadn’t walked into the store with ulterior motives. He’d only wanted to see you, maybe steal a kiss or two before his title reminded him that before he was yours, he was the Corps’. All he’d wanted was a little taste of your love; of what waited for him when he could finally stash away his crowbar and pretend he was anyone else.

Naturally, what he wanted and what you had planned were two very different things.

The moment you’d laid eyes on him, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and towed him to the back storeroom. Once safely inside, you’d pushed him down, forced him to sit atop a stack of shipping crates, and crawled right onto his lap.

“Need you inside me, baby,” you cooed against his ear, rolling your hips against his with a breathy, impatient little whine that never failed to drive him up the fucking wall with desire. “Need you to fill me up.”

He hadn’t been able to respond; you wouldn’t allow it, not when your fingers were already loosening his belt buckle. Besides, a strap of your sundress had fallen down your shoulder — what was he supposed to do, not suck your pretty tit right into his mouth? How else could he have smothered his groan when you finally sunk down on his throbbing cock, and began riding him without mercy? He’s only a man, and a fucking weak one at that, as the last few weeks had made clear. Especially when it comes to you.

He came embarrassingly fast that time, only just managing to bring you over the edge with him before he unloaded inside you, fast and hard.

“More”, you’d demanded, even before he’d finished spurting his release in you. “More.”

That’s another thing: you love him cumming in you. And he’s helpless to watch as years of common sense and diligent avoidance of the consequences of unprotected sex flies right out the damn window. Whatever higher level of reasoning he may have had, it’s fucking useless when he’s balls-deep inside you, feeling you squeeze and milk him for every last drop.

Besides, he can’t help but be entranced by the face you make every time he fills you up; it’s nothing short of pure ecstasy, and it’s consistently the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He hadn’t had much choice other than to obey your command. So, still buried deep inside you, he’d lifted you up and walked you across the storeroom to one of the sturdier supply shelves, and pressed you against it. And then he fucked you again like the dutiful boyfriend he is.

Thank god you’ve somehow ended up prescribed what can only be the most elite form of birth control.

He’d asked you, once, to take a pregnancy test earlier on, in a moment of anxious weakness. The idea of fucking raw as often as the two of you did with only a small pill to prevent any accidents was foreign to him, and Sanemi had made his resistance toward kids well known to you.

You’d agreed without hesitation or judgment.

Since then, he’s insisted on paying for your prescription. It’s only fair. Besides, it does help you with your monthly period cramps — he never wants something as trivial as cost to prevent you from getting the care he knows you desperately need.

But, god help him the day you ever run out, or somehow, the market for birth control dries up. Sanemi knows the chances he has of falling back on condoms or pulling out are slim to none.

Like he said: he’s fucking weak.

[fandomfreakstudios]

JFC that concert was truly amazing! Transport and crossing the border was obviously a hassle, and we made it just in the nick of time, but otherwise it was AMAZING.

I got to meet him during the meet n greet which was obviously lovely, I didn’t make a total ass of myself shockingly enough. When he found out me and my girlfriend had the same name he laughed and said it would be easy to remember.

As for the QNA I was able to ask a question (context: he mentioned his hatred for Genius Lyrics during the previous question) and I asked him if there was any particular take on that website that he hated in particular, like if anything stood out or came to mind. And he went on this rant about people misinterpreting Vampire Reference in a Minor Key, which eventually turned to him expressing his pain over people misinterpreting his intent because ICIMI in general. The entire time he made such intense personal eye contact with me as if we were just two people having a conversation about his music it was amazing.

The concert itself was wonderful and so was the story told throughout, a beautiful personal look into Will Wood’s past. Will not say more so I don’t risk spoiling anyone else’s experience with this show. Jokes are phenomenal, singing was superb like his cover of Better Then the Alternative left me breathless. And the bit about him reading erotic fanfiction of himself literally had me in stitches.

After the show my girlfriend happened to catch him as he was leaving the bathroom. She thanked him for the show and said it was wonderful, and he said, I shit you not, “thank you [name]”. I think I said “he remembered our name” at least 15 times after that.

We thought that was it, and that that was all we would see of Will Wood until his next concert, but nope! As we were waiting outside for our uber and chatting with some fans who were doing the same, he comes out and starts looking around outside while also talking to some people and whatnot (I was in conversation with another fan atp and it would be rude to ditch them mid sentence but I digress). Apparently he got locked out of the venue so he was just standing around shooting the shit with some fans as he was waiting to be let in.

I was super nervous in every single interaction with him I had had with him up to this point, so I was just like… fuck it, be confident, and I just started talking to him as he talked to a few other fans. I made a joke about him being locked out here with an angry mob of fans to start, to kinda introduce myself into the conversation. After that someone asked if the flower in his pocket was real or fake and he said it was fake, so I said it looked impressively realistic and also found a way to compliment his whole outfit and how well all the shades of black matched (apparently he got his whole suit from amazon basics which I’m obsessed with). And then My girlfriend asked him a question about american paper money and asked if americans complained about how frail their money is, and i managed to slip in another joke about how we can accidentally wash our wallets and not be fucked.

Truly a remarkable and worthwhile experience! will definitely post the photo when I get it I’ll just censor my face (I can’t not post it)

[sugar-omi]

Can I request some HC about Cove and cockwarming 👀

omfg yes you can

NSFW, gn reader, step 3 + 4 + DILF ! cove, multiple scenarios, prbly ooc bc dilf!cove is a menance over here ok, prbly ooc step 4 cove too but ion care imma babygirl him ‼️‼️

STEP 3 COVE

you can't expect an 18 year old to be normal or calm abt it

he's all whiny and tense

you're only on his dick long enough to adjust. both of you clinging onto each other and panting, tryna get used to such an intense feeling

you can try teasing him by cockwarming, but it really won't work

begs you to move, uses those big blues to try and sway you

will probably cry if you keep swirling your hips or clenching around him, he can't help but fall over the edge and lose his patience

doesnt matter if you you hold on long enough or are swayed by cove's sweet begging

but now it's your turn for your head to spin because cove thrusts up into you, holding you and hiding his face in your neck

I love the idea of him getting caught up in the moment again and flipping you over on your back and thrusting into you...

makes you finish first because I think he's totally obsessed with watching you finish, especially when you finish around him

STEP 4 COVE

you still can't expect him to be normal

but fuck does he love it

ik I haven't included switch cove n any of the other 2 scenarios (writing this bit last, yes I write backwards)

but I gotta tell you man...

he loves it sm

doesn't matter if it's a strap, loves cockwarming you

mmm, going throughout the day, splitting him open on your cock during different times of the day

please do ask him to stop doing a chore to sit in your lap, he's so weak rn

fuck, come up behind him n just slip in while he's washing dishes, he's in heaven rn

the whole day he's hard, ruined his pants w pre bc he's been in pieces the whole day

by the time you finally fuck him, he's in tears n so happy n pleased

also dies of happiness a bit when you cockwarm him

jfc doing it in the morning. or before bed, while you sleep...

is so turned on by this, sometimes he just can't do it and you'll wake up to cove squirming, apologizing but begging to fuck, begging to cum..

if he makes it through the whole night though... gets the pleasant scene of seeing you on too of him, grinding on his lap n telling him you should hurry up n finish before work<33

fuck imagine teasing him the same way dilf cove does (so spoilers lol)

n having him in your lap or you're in his, and you're tryna watch a show n you're moving your hips..

grinding on him, thrusting up into him..

either way he couldn't hold on, n now you have HIM on the coffee table or laid out on the couch, heart eyes while watching you take him while on top 🫶🫶

he's in love actually

DILF COVE

oh he does it for fun

this is a sport to him

how long can you sit on his cock until you either whine n beg, or you need to get back to the rest of the world

fuck, if you don't have kids or they're grown. he'll do it while you guys sleep<3

anyway🙈

this is almost like a punishment, n like I said, it's entirely for his entertainment n he'll fucking do it while he's watching TV or on the computer

will twist your nipple or rub your sex

kisses your sensitive neck or pushes your hips down

"sorry baby, I was grabbing a pen"

although at some point he'll surprise you by languishingly fucking you. his cock dragging against your walls...

it's so slow n such a tease n it's just enough to keep your stomach burning

omfg cockwarming while he plays a game or watches a show...

you're tryna watch this movie, but you're only half way paying attention if at all because of cove

it's a romance, or some shitty action movie with too many unnecessary sex scenes

every time the characters make out, kissing n groping each other

he's grabbing at you, groping your chest, teasingly stroking your sex, kissing you breathless..

and every sexy scenergy he thrusts up into you, holding your hips down while you cling onto his arms that are wrapped around your waist

either it ends in neither of you cumming, successfully edging yourselves until the end of the movie

or you bent over the coffee table or with your legs up, buried in the corner of the couch as cove works you both through one or two orgasms <33

just the sexual tension alone turns him on, will happily go all day, splitting you on his cock n then going about your day without cumming

fuck, he'll do it before work and then at dinner.. his younger self would've choked and died at just the thought

tells you you look so pretty cumming for him, also tells you some nasty shit like he's so pent up n can't wait to fuck you, can't wait to finish inside you

tells you he's been thinking abt it all day...

pls dilf cove so good n yet so bad for our hearts... 🫣

[tgmsunmontue]

Because I was leaving comments on @jayjay-thejet-plane's work over on AO3 (when it let me stay logged in, JFC) I remembered the horrific experience of getting my tongue pierced back in the 90s and how I passed out afterwards, which I said would make a funny Meet Ugly. Referring to Tattoo artist Bradley because we need ALL the AUs.

TW: Blood.

 “How do you feel about having Mikey do it? He’s new to piercing but he’s one of our experienced tattoo artists.”

 “Got to learn somehow I guess right?” Jake asks.

 “Thanks man, appreciate it,” a guy, obviously Mikey, says, reaching out for a fist bump and Jake obliges, throws a grin over his shoulder to Javy who had bet him good money that he couldn’t and wouldn’t get his tongue pierced. Javy is in fact paying for the privilege of Jake getting his first piercing. He’s walked through the procedure, shown the instruments and he listens intently, tries to ignore the needle and clamp. Then there are the aftercare instructions and what he does and doesn’t need to do to keep it from getting infected. Okay. It’s not rocket science. He can do this.

 He’s never had anything pierced before, isn’t quite sure what it’s meant to feel like and he can’t really ask with his mouth wide open like it is, tongue pinched in the clamp and it reminds him vaguely of the dentist, when they ask you a question and you try and answer while your mouth is stretched open. Then there’s a count of three and blindingly hot pain and a flood of wetness in his mouth and he looks up to see Mikey looking at him wide-eyed. Then the hot pressure in his tongue is gone and he feels a little light headed, reaches up to wipe his chin where he can feel the wetness dribbling out of his mouth and when he sees blood the light-headedness intensifies and he swallows, tasting nothing but the sharp tang of his own blood and then his world fades to black.

 “I got him.”

 “Jesus that’s a lot of blood…”

 “Go! Get Bradley!”

 “Rooster!”

 Jake wonders woozily why they need a barnyard animal, if maybe the blood loss will help in some type of ritual. His grandma was always warning him about shit like that.

 He hears the heavy approach of boots, but his eyes feel heavy, can’t open and focus and at least the chair he’s in is comfortable.

 “Holy shit, it looks like a murder scene in here. What did you do?”

 “Uh…”

 There’s movement and rustling noises and he can feel hands on his face, then a damp cloth and he presses into the hand cupping his jaw. It’s nice and cool against the heated skin of his face and he hums appreciatively.

 “Mikey…”

 “Slipped and went through the transverse muscle on a diagonal.”

 “So not vertical.”

 “Nope.”

 “Well fuck…”

 Jake forces his eyes open and looks up, his vision a little blurry, but there’s a guy standing in front of him and the first thing he notices is the moustache, tries to reach up to pat it but the guy pulls away and Jake thinks he’s frowning.

 “Looks fuzzy…”

 “Is he on something?” the guy with the moustache asks.

 “No…” Javy answers for him.

 “Okay…”

 “It’s a caterpillar… fuzzy.”

 There’s a few snorts or what Jake thinks might be amusement, he’s starting to feel a bit more normal and the hand is still on his face and he looks to it, notices the tattoos. His eyes are now able to focus, and his gaze travels up the arm, it’s nicely muscled and notes the black tank with the bronco logo, the mosquito caught in amber on a chain around the guys neck and oh, the arm is attached to the guy with the moustache.

 “Hi…”

 “Hi there gorgeous. You back with us?”

 Jake nods, feels the hand flex a little on his face and he nods slowly.

 “Now, you want to try again?”

 Jake nods, and this time he’s sat up first, given some water to rinse out his mouth before settling back again, somehow less nervous. Moustache guy has introduced himself as Bradley, and Mikey hasn’t stopped apologising for the slip, and Jake doesn’t care, can’t really focus on much more than Bradley’s intense gaze on him as he reopens new packets of sanitised equipment.

 It goes much better this time around, not painful, well, not compared to the first time. Then Bradley’s removing his fingers from his mouth and Jake swallows, wonders if intense eye contact is part of the tongue piercing package.

 “Want to get an ice cream? I know a place. Be good for your tongue.”

 “Yeah? That your professional opinion?” Jake asks, and it feels weird, the metal bar knocking around in his mouth, tongue definitely feeling tender and swollen.

 “Sure is. And I should stay with you. Just in case you pass out again.”

 “Well, I wouldn’t want to stop you from doing your due diligence.”

 Bradley gives him a slow smirk and yeah, Jake thinks he’s going to like him.

[oshinohoshi]

Kana's breakdown

I've been thinking more about Kana slapping Aqua's dead body (why am I even typing those words jfc) last chapter. Lots of folks are using this as a reason to call Kana immature, selfish, etc. which I don't agree with even though I do understand some of that thinking.

Was it disrespectful to his family? Absolutely. Imagine you're standing there mourning your dead son and his friend comes up and slaps him lol. And while it would not be OK to do this in any circumstance, in the eyes of everyone but Akane he was murdered. So while they are probably upset that he went looking for trouble by chasing after Hikaru, this is just a tragic murder in their eyes. Although to be clear, I don't condone slapping suicidal people whether dead or alive.

But grief can really screw you up. Your emotions are running high and you may not be fully in control of your actions. Everything is terrible and you just want that person to miraculously come back because you can't live with this.

Of course that doesn't trump Miyako's grief. Still, I can't imagine reading this and not having empathy for Kana. Also, even though at this point I hardly care what Akasaka's intensions are given how much I dislike this ending, it should be clear to everyone that this scene is not meant to show us that Kana is awful.

And then there's Miyako's reaction after the slap fest:

Is this the face of a woman who is angry? No. She looks shocked. She just realized how much Kana loves Aqua and how much she's hurting. If anything, this goes to show just how loved Aqua was.

If this manga wasn't in a full on sprint to the finish line with no room to breathe, I can easily imagine a scene where Miyako goes up to Kana, who is remorseful and blaming herself, and lets her know with words or actions (she really needs a hug) that she forgives her and she understands. There's just no way that Miyako would hold any kind of resentment over this.

But man this scene really is such a soap opera. It's just tragedy porn at this point. Still, it made me emotional despite feeling kinda contrived.

[celabi]

been having scummy scara brainrot thanks to u and i cannot stop thinking about that one scenario where reader is also a yandere. love when two little freaks find each other <3 i actually uhh started writing a fic about it but like. idk. i never finish anything. i was hoping i could share some of it (all that i have rn) with u since it is directly inspired by ur blog lol. it's nothing special or interesting so feel free to ignore if u want but here's: scummy scara. from scummy reader's pov :)

~

Scaramouche is obsessed with you. You’re certain of it.

He’s so obvious sometimes that you have to wonder if he wants you to notice. The way his face flushes and his intense gaze flits away every time you make eye contact. The way he shivers and shifts his position every time you innocently tap him on the shoulder or brush against his arm. The way his typical insults stutter and fizzle out whenever you smile at him. The way he seems to inhale the slightest bit deeper when he’s in your presence.

(Just for fun, you had ruffled his hair once and called him a good boy. It was absolutely comical, the strangled noise that left his throat and the instantaneous widening of his eyes as he shot up from his seat and practically bolted to the bathroom. It took everything you had to school your expression into sympathetic concern - or at least, something other than the smug grin threatening to break through - when he came back several minutes later, all sweaty bangs and wobbly legs, mumbling something about a sudden stomachache.)

He’s so cute, how can you resist indulging him now and then? It doesn’t hurt to leave your used napkins and chewed gum at the top of the trashcan for him to pilfer when he thinks you’re not looking, does it? They’d just go to waste anyway! And so what if you started leaving your blinds cracked or switched out your curtains for more translucent ones? You’re just trying to let in more sunlight, and if that just so happens to make it easier for him to take his little photos - well, what’s the harm in that, really?

Of course, you had to make sure it was only you that he loved before rewarding him too much. Although you’ve painstakingly ensured that his reputation is just negative enough for most others to avoid him, the occasional rumor here and there, surely it’d only be a matter of time before someone realized how adorable he really was. His eyes had sparkled with nothing but awe and reverence for you when you gave him that cat plushie for his birthday, too infatuated with you to even think about checking it for the listening device you implanted inside. Ever since then, you’d gotten your confirmation many times over; every night, as a matter of fact, with a symphony of sweet, pathetic moans and whimpers of your name into the plushie - accompanied by very familiar slick, wet sounds - until his voice was hoarse. (It was a shame you hadn’t installed a camera instead, but you’d been worried about it being too conspicuous.)

But no matter how utterly endearing his obsession with you is, you can’t help feeling frustrated. Just a bit. Because if he’s really this enamored of you, why hasn’t he made a damn move yet? He hasn’t asked you out, hasn’t even attempted to drug or kidnap you, and he’s only broken into your apartment twice. You’d even done him the courtesy of pretending you were asleep, but the following mornings, the only notable changes you’d discovered each time were that a few pairs of dirty underwear had disappeared from the laundry hamper, and a few new cameras had been hidden around your bedroom. Not a single mysterious stain on your pajamas or inexplicable mark on your skin. It was almost insulting.

At this rate, you might just have to take matters into your own hands.

~

Oh wow this is hot 🫣 he’s so cute jfc, I’m in love with this ??1!1? Your writing is 💋, and you captured him perfectly what 😭😭 and reader knowing of his obsession and purposely teasing him??? 🤭🤭 I love it so much, thank you for sending this!!

sorry for replying so late, I’m not feeling too good atm. <33

[scienter]

WE GOT LIFT AND RENARIN POVS!

CHAPTER 29

“I don’t stare at him,” Lift said, watching the Azish Windrunner give orders to subordinates. So confident, yet so studious. Not a brute, like so many of the Alethi. He had thoughts. He was smart. Not so tall as to be intimidating, but tall enough to be striking. “Pardon,” Wyndle said, “but you’re staring right now.” “Do you think,” Lift said, “he likes poetry?”

Poetry? Lift has a crush on Sigzil. Fantastic. 😂

Nobody had seen him since the attack on the tower though. Probably off sleeping somewhere. He was smart, that one. Always seemed to know when someone was gonna make him do something, so he got out of there quick.

For real though – where the hell is Zahel?

“He’s married, you know.” “Yeah,” she said, leaning farther to the side. “His husband’s hot too. Seems unfair. You’re hot, you can fly, and you have a hot husband? Windrunners, Wyndle, I’m tellin’ ya. Something’s up with them. You know, I ain’t never seen one o’ them run into a wall? Not even a small wall.”

Lift has a crush on Drehy too? lmao It was only a matter of time before Lift started thirsting over the Windrunners.

Gav nodded, knees drawn up against his chest, staring at the ground. “My mother gave me to Voidbringers,” he said softly, “to be tormented and killed.”

JFC. This poor kid is so traumatized.  No wonder he worries Navani and Dalinar don’t want him.  Good thing Lift made an effort to befriend him.

“I’m gonna learn,” Gav said, a small angerspren pooling beneath him, like bubbling blood. “How to use a Shardblade. How to fight. Then I’m gonna find everyone who hurt my father, and I’m going to kill them. I’m gonna make their eyes burn out and then, when they’re dead, I’ll chop them to pieces.”

😬 WTF. That's a little intense for a 5-year-old.

If Moash & Gav survive this book then there’s a good chance for a Gav gets revenge sub-plot in the second half of Stormlight.

“Gram,” Gav said on the way, “what’s ‘shit’ mean?” Lift winced. Maybe… maybe teaching the crown prince to cuss hadn’t been her smartest move. Secretly deep down, she was a bit of a druff, wasn’t she.

😂 Is this the first scene Brandon has ever used the word ‘shit’ in a Cosmere book?

I loved this scene so much. From Lift thirsting over Windrunners to befriending Gav to letting Wyndle into her secret handshake. TI adore Lift.

Wyndle nodded, satisfied. He glanced at her. Then he frowned. “You’re… going to follow them, aren’t you?” “Storming right I am,” Lift said, hopping down. “I mean, I need more snacks, so I was planning to get up anyway…”

I hope Lift sneaks into the Spiritual realm with Dalinar. I loved their scenes in Oathbringer and I’ve been hoping to see them paired up again.

CHAPTER 30

WE GOT A RENARIN POV! FINALLY!

Of course she’d send a report. She still hoped, as Dalinar did, that Renarin would change his mind and agree to be king of Urithiru should his father fall. Barring that, they wanted him to be Jasnah’s heir until Gav was of age. Though Jasnah would ensure an elected official took her place, they thought Alethkar should have a monarch, even if they didn’t have absolute power.

Although we knew Dalinar originally wanted one of his sons to inherit Uritihru, I think it’s significant that Brandon chose to show us Dalinar’s conversation with Kaladin and not Renarin. He didn’t throw that in there without reason, right?  Is this focus on succession simply world-building or is it significant to the plot?

 “The way you look at Rlain,” Drehy said in response to Renarin’s apparent confusion. “Oh, that,” Renarin said, relaxing. It was an embarrassing topic, but at least now he knew what the topic was. “Is it… um… obvious?”

Oh, the Rlainarin shippers have waited so long for this day. It's good to see this ship finally take off.

“What do you want, Renarin?” Drehy asked. “Not what your aunt, or your father, or anyone else wants. What do you want?” “Maybe what I want,” he said, “is for my aunt, and my father, and everyone else to be happy.”

Oh, Renarin, your happiness is important too. 🥺

It’s great that Drehy is making an effort to help Renarin. I enjoy character interactions like this more than action or worldbuilding tbh.

“Those aren’t books full of facts or learning,” Renarin admitted. “They’re adventure stories, the kind written for young women. I had a whole collection, much to Father’s embarrassment.” “Renarin,” Rlain said, “I have seen how your father treats you. He’s not embarrassed of you.” “He was when I was young,” Renarin said. “But he was wrong back then, wasn’t he?”

Interesting. So in Alethkar men don’t have novels read to them? Only women enjoy fiction? Huh.

I’m fascinated with the reversal in Dalinar’s relationships with his sons within the story. Before the current story, Dalinar and Renarin had a strained relationship because Renarin was sickly and too “feminine” for Alethi culture. Dalinar no longer cares about traditional gender roles, and he is supportive of Renarin’s interests regardless of whether they conform to Alethi gender or class expectations. In contrast, Dalinar and Aldolin had a solid relationship in the past when Dalinar was the Blackthorn. But now Adolin resents his father and there’s tension between them because Dalinar killed Evi. Dalianr has yet to figure out how to connect with both of his sons at the same time.

Okay, so to summarize Renarin’s visions:

Renarin on a throne wearing singer clothing

There's a storm

Dalinar & a glowing figure stand on a clifftop as a city collapses into a pit

12 figures peacefully standing in Shinovar, including a Horneater, a Makabaki, Natans, and a blue woman with a blue skirt and white hair.

A femalen face with swirling black & red patterns

Renarian's future involves the singers (or at least Rlain).

Dalinar standing with the glowing figure (Taravangian?) is probably the aftermath of the contest of champions.

Pretty sure the blue woman is Syl. So . . . Syl in Shinovar with 11 other figures = Syl + Kaladin + Szeth + the Heralds? Don't know who the Horneater is though . . .

I think the angry femalan face with swirling black & red patterns is Ba-Ado-Mishram because she's pretty pissed about being locked up.

I really liked these chapters. The Lift and Renarian POVs were overdue and a welcome change. Hope we get Dalinar, Kaladin, and Szeth next week. Or Adolin. We haven't had an Adolin POV in a while.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

jfc he really is giving sub seb in that first gif, like tell him he's a good boy and CHOKE HIM

related to this

R i g h t ?

Like-

Jesus Christ.

Seb is so pretty and he's so good and it's killing me 😮‍💨😮‍💨

And Sebastian is ✨️inspiring✨️ too. Like, I did a lot of driving yesterday (when you sent this ask in) so I had a lot of time to think... and I'm thinking evanstan here because I always am lol. But, specifically though-

Imagine

Chris is feeling himself one day when they are not going anywhere. Also, they haven't got anything to do at home. The extent of their plans are to veg out on the couch for some much deserved rest and relaxation. However, in contrast to they're easy, chill day--as mentioned--Chris is feeling a little flirty. Not just flirty though, he's feeling more than that too. He's lowkey buzzing with arousal, just because.

(It's probably a result of being alone with Sebastian for the first time in a while without anything else demanding their attention And Seb is obviously gorgeous. So. Casual, low-simmering arousal and need that translates into the urge to tease.)

So, as Chris walks past Seb - where he's sitting on the couch - on his way through the living room, Chris rumbles, "Seb?"

Of course, Seb looks up at his boyfriend. Smiling sweetly.

He's so good, Chris thinks.

Chris smiles too and out loud he says, "there he is." His fingers float to Sebastian's chin, keeping his chin up, their eyes locking. "There's my good boy," Chris coos, patting him on the cheek, aaaand loosely collaring his throat with his hand. Just a second of choking before...

He walks away.

Chris walks away like nothing happened. Doing his best to bite down on the smirk that wants to paint his face. He goes to sit on the easy chair this time, not the couch next to Sebastian where he had been before getting up just a few moments ago.

Chris is expecting Sebastian to maybe suffer a hitched inhale or choked exhale, eyes blowing wide at the suddenness of something he enjoys so much. He's not expecting Sebastian, poor baby, to crumble.

He does though.

Just like *that* Sebastian whimpers and slips down in his seat. Slouching under the weight of the arousal that clearly hits him. The weight--the wave of interest going through Sebastian carries him off the couch and onto the floor. Crawling, a little wobbly, over to Chris.

Chris didn't know that would happen but he's pleased to see it 👀

And on Sebastian’s end, oof, he didn't realize he needed that as bad as he did but, oh, God, hearing Chris say those words makes him crave even more. Weak at the knees.

It's all Seb can do to get over to Chris and push his forehead against his knee with a soft noise of complaint.

Chris chuckles above him.

Just the physical representation of Chris above him--bigger and taller and in control--makes Sebastian shiver. He wants that power dynamic outlined even more. Please. He presses hard into Chris' knee.

"Yes, baby?" Chris questions.

Seb makes a noise of complaint. He fucking knows what.

He knows what he started.

Chris sighs happily, "get up here then, sweet boy," and Seb does.

Sebastian clambers into Chris' lap and Chris instantly has his hands all over him. Back on his throat. Around his waist, groping him so good. Sebastian’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into the heat and claiming brand of Chris' large hand over his throat. He just melts into Chris' touch. Yesss.

Chris squeezes his neck, just a touch, as he claims Seb's mouth, kissing him deeply. Seb swears he can hear an angel's chorus welcoming him as he starts to really fly under Chris' care 🥴 A religious experience. Floating on simmering arousal and golden fog, all about to get more intense.

Also, don't fucking get me started on this other sub Seb moment from Sharper. It's still frying my brain 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 and making me think about "The Love Song You've Earned" by @luninosity because I can totally see that more traditional dom/sub dynamic flowing into Seb being ordered to take Chris' shoes off for him 👀

[thewizardingtoad]

Hi! Welcome to insanity, where I go through this one amazing manhwa "A Returner's Magic Should Be Special" and make a post every time Zod Exarion appears, just because. Please be aware that these posts can have spoilers up to chapter 232, so you might want to read that before these :)

Chapter 40:

Alright, so this is our first "official" look at this world's Zod, which is pretty exciting.

This picture is 100% him, this is his expression in at least half the Manhwa, so,,, good job? This is his very essence, staring at magic items intensely, probably a slightly crazed look in his eyes, knowledge and chaos shining though them. :'D

When l first saw this panel I honestly thought : wow this person must be very smart and powerful, but also a) what the fuck is up with him and b) I would like to not be in the same city as him ever thank you very much. In fact, I would appreciate at least one country between us at all times if that's possible :D

And then the villain vibes, who let this man have the villain vibes??? I don't think l even realized until my third reread that this was Zod. Why are you standing in a black room next to a big chair in front of a big ass window creepy lighting and all like some overrated eccentric super villain ready to take over the world??

Then I realized that in chapter 1 we saw Zod through the eyes of Desir, just like how we see him every time after this. This might be the only time when we see him how everyone, who haven't spent the last 6 years getting their ass kicked by him in chess, sees him. The very serious, looming figure with unimaginable power and knowledge. Someone who's pulling the threads in the shadows.

There's a very big contrast between these panels and every other appearance of his. While everyone sees the expressionless almost godlike genius, who's capable of anything and everything, Desir sees his friend, the very human, very real person, who he spent the last 6 years trying to keep sane by playing chess with him, and the person who did the same for him in return.

I might as well could say that in this picture we see "The Sage of Wisdom", the person everyone relies on, and everywhere else we see Zod Exarion, who, at least Desir knows, also needs to rely on someone.

Honestly, the more I stare at the last picture, the more I think him "breaking down" after finding Helena's ring(???) was coming for a long time. I mean, how long was he tower master for at this point? 71 years?? Jfc.

chapter 1 | chapter 40 | chapter 44 |

[laurabenanti]

hi friendly people (more than likely just the mutuals 🍑)~

my migraines are still pretty consistent and non-stop; they mostly just get a little less intense randomly for an hour or so without consistency. it's, unfortunately, noticeably worse any time i get onto tumblr (desktop or mobile). i can kind of only narrow this down to gifs, but honestly i'm not 100% what's going on. since they tend to be optical as well, becoming essentially blind in one (or one and a half) of my eyes is kind of scary. throw in that now they've made me incredibly nauseous, i have to actually do something about it. and since i have zero intentions of blocking gifs or stopping the creation of my own, i'm just going to extend my little hiatus. idk if i'll be gone only for a week from here, as it will kind of depend on when i can find an actual resolution to this issue, but i will be back before the 12th. i'm hoping that, by staggering out when i do things in photoshop (it's one of few hobbies i am finding myself really happy with nowadays / stress relieving / giving me joy) jfc i can hardly even english right at this point and not checking my dash at all, these migraines get a minute to chill and reset. we'll see if my body agrees.

anyway, see you soon ❤︎

[theatreslave]

Blue Demon.

That first episode was a roller coaster.

Shirtless Tenoch just appeared so fast.

They could have used a darker stunt double.

Jacinto is hot as fuck tbh

This kid is a great actor.

Damn intense.

Ok episode two.

Ah look at this precious man

Goyita is cute af

The fact that her dad is the same actor for Neto.

Ok but the way he fell in love at first sight

HE DID NOT JUST WALK UP TO HER WITH NO HESITATION

His fucking smile and his eyes I'm literally so in love

NOT HER LAST NAME BEING VERA THIS IS PERSONAL NOW

He's always standing up for people and getting in trouble.

Ok but his silent rage when he's sitting in the office. Peak acting.

He's so slim in this. And young. I just wanna hug him.

Goyita is so charming I would fall for her too.

Checo is trouble and looks like it.

Noooo Alejandro

Oh my god his face when she walks in

Goyita give in he's so cute. Stop playing hard to get.

Oh no the uncle also owes this punk

Stop it not Alejandro dropping lines while she is literally patching him up!!!

The way she just starts sewing him up. Like alright big guy take it like a man. I love her.

Lmao first times for everything

Not him already thinking about kissing her. He's so baby in this

THE WAY I WOULD FOLD IF A CUTE MAN FLIRTED LIKE THIS WITH ME

The way he goes from smug boy to oh yeah head nurse sorry. Is so satisfying as an actor. Like yes baby do your thing.

THE WAY HE CAME HOME AND WAS LIKE I MET YOUR DAUGHTER IN LAW

AND THEN FOLLOWED IT UP WITH THINKING ABOUT HAVING KIDS WITH HER SIR YOUVE KNOWN HER FOR 20 MINUTES

Someone love me like this

Alejandro why would you say that surrounded by people literally training in techniques?

Every time he strips is a transcendent experience.

Not neto showing up the true angry father.

Goyita's friend is me except no way is he ugly

Franklin is really here being a menace

Alejandro trying to introduce himself I'm dead

Noch stands so funny when his character is awkward

He has such morals. I love him.

Ugh Checo is such a punk

Why do I have a thing for men wearing suspenders?

Alejandro has no sense of self preservation in the face of keeping to his morals.

His fucking uncle jfc

Franklin is down bad for his homie tho. Like this rich dude is annoying tho.

His morals will make him fight. Of course he will only do something immoral if it is for his family.

He took the debt for his uncle and aunt! Without hesitation.

[auspex]

8, 10, 11 and 15 for Mark? 🥲

YAYY TY this is fun sorry if written badly i am Tired.

What is the closest your OC has come to death?

Well other than the obligatory “he was literally murdered and is dead since he is a vampire” this is actually more of a silly story - soooo… brief context: The Tremere chantry in Detroit has gargoyles and Mark has befriended one. This particular gargoyle is really good at flying! But is very young and childish and doesn’t understand that other people without stone skin can’t survive intense g forces and other things. So once Mark asked for a ride. And during the flight, started taking damage from the G forces, and also… when they arrived… he was just… flung into the ground at high speed… lost a LOT of skin… some organs… would have been dead if not a kindred. Like Mark’s BONES were exposed. It was tough. But yea that's the closest Mark in particular came to final death! Lol. 

What is the worst loss your OC has suffered?

Where to start… Mark lost his chance at a normal life… he lost his relationship (and found out he lost it a lot sooner than he knew)... oh I’ll just talk about a very very large loss because it is hard to pinpoint the ‘worst’...

Mark lost his privacy. It used to be very important to him - he was a very private person. He had a strong work persona, a strong professor persona, a strong persona for his coworker friends, a different one for friends… his students… and really, even one for his boyfriend and himself. He kept everything internalized and people who he had known for awhile really knew very little of him. It made him feel safe and it was so engrained he hardly realized he was doing it. 

But turns out - he was being spied on for a long time. Julius learned a lot about him. And now, he has to send him weekly reports on what he is doing. Now, Julius can see through his eyes whenever he wants. Lots of other kindred try to find info on him - he feels eyes on him so often. Gaius invaded his memories and saw everything he knew. A changeling haunts his night visions and sees those too. And perhaps most invasive at all, Julius manipulates the blood bond he has to Mark to make Mark care *less* about his privacy than he used to - so it doesn’t even bother him as much as it should. So. He lost his privacy and his sense of privacy. 

Your OC is forced to kill a member of their family or a friend. Who do they choose, and why?

Uhm let me see. Let’s consider this the pool of people: -Parents -Sampson -Kenny -Dr. Armatto -Rose

Oh my god wtf this is an awful pool of people to pick from. Uhm. Uh. Well it definitely will not be Sampson. I think he would narrow it down to be Dr. Armatto because he is old… Rose because he’s known her for the least amount of time… and his parents because he isn’t close with them at all anymore. It’s fucked up, but in a situation like this I think he would also consider what Julius would want. And Julius would think Rose being given final death would put him in a worse position. I think he would kill his father. He is the most distant from him - least chance of reconnecting - and he would try to tell himself that he would have to die anyway - and in this situation, no matter who he kills, he is losing humanity… oof tough question. Also Mark get more friends jfc. 

How far would you OC go to protect their loved ones?

Pretty damn far, depending on who. He’d kill kindred. He’d risk his life, for sure, for any of his touchstones or his parents. If people were attacking them, he’d fight to kill. And if it was Sampson, he might even kill humans not fighting - strangers to him - much to Sampson’s horror. Sampson in particular, as a ghoul, Mark figures could stay with him for a very long time - so he’s worth a lot to him. He’d even blood bind him again, temporarily, if it was between choosing that and Sampson’s death. He needs him. 

[strongfuck]

It's song recommendations, random edition! You wanna impress that goth girl or get into an 80s cyberpunk nightclub vibe?

ULTRA SUNN, Keep Your Eyes Peeled

Horror Vacui, Lost

Depeche Mode, Enjoy the Silence

Boom. Anon out

dude the way you started this message got me thinking about rhys' college years and now i'm thinking his ex-gf stacey was a goth girl jfc

anyways, im gonna pull out the lyrics that resonated w/ my Thoughts of Rhys the most out of those three songs cos

Fallen leaves realize they are no friend of autumn The view from Hell is blue sky So ominously blue I daydream until all the blue is gone

this has to be his hyperion era, god. "i daydream until all the blue is gone" :( it's ok buddy you can do it you can make it! even if all you do is make it to middle management before your life is ruined lmao

Vows are spoken To be broken Feelings are intense Words are trivial Pleasures remain So does the pain Words are meaningless And forgettable

this is insanely hyperion-esque too. LMAO. and the whole chorus of enjoy the silence, i think, is somewhere along the lines of rhys when he has his found family and figures that is really all he needs to be happy...

And when you're closing your eyes Don't you forget where you come from When days are black, when there's no hope, when everything seems to be wrong

this is sooooooo good. just for my idea of rhys in general. cos despite his whole deal of wanting to be more than what he came from, he is still a prisoner of where he came from because of that. if he uses his past as a frame of reference to what he does in the present, he's still letting it affect him. idiot