#hits the brain in a very specific way i really enjoy

[astranauticus]

while ive got untranslatable cpop on the brain shoutout to on Naihe bridge by Ice Paper because its a fanastic song with a truly wild vibe but how in the world am i supposed to preserve that second verse where the whole joke is its comprised largely out of chengyu where the first characters count from 1-9. hello??

[endlessthxxghts]

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

masterlist | notifs blog

“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up. 

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?” 

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.” 

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you. 

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 

Fuck. 

“Why?” He asks defensively. 

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?” 

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

[coeurify]

I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real

UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!

⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)

⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)

⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.

⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”

⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”

⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”

⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.

⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.

⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.

⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.

⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.

⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.

⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”

⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.

⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.

⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.

⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.

⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”

⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.

⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.

⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.

⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”

⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”

⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.

⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.

⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”

⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.

⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.

⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.

⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.

⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hii! I literally love the way you write the reactions so i was wondering if you could do a skz reaction about them hitting reader like you did with ateez?

if not, you can ignore this request.

have a amazing night/day! <3

stray kids reactions to another idol hitting on their s/o

genre: general, angst?

warnings: little bit suggestive in minho's

please like and reblog if you enjoy <3

chan

considering he is friends with the entire industry, it's not unlikely that idols will know who you are by now. so if he catches one of them flirting with you then he's gonna have to double-take because... really? do they not know that your his by now?? either way, he's bound to take the idol aside and have a word with them about it like the balanced person that he is.

minho

this idol is very bold and daring to go up to someone that is his. he's a scorpio man, do you really want to cross him? he would watch from the sidelines as the idol continuously hits on you, his gaze heavy and intense. he's not one to make a big scene, but the brewing jealousy that has bubbled up from observing such things leads to a passionate make-out session between the two of you when you get home, growling that you're his in-between kisses.

changbin

he is fairly observant of his surroundings. he usually knows where you are and who you are with if you are at the same gathering as him, and will keep an eye on you as more of an instinctual protection. so he notices that you're being flirted with rather quickly, and will instantly bounce into action, not wasting a moment to wrap his arms around you whilst you're being hit on. yeah, that'll get them to stop.

hyunjin

he gets upset very quickly when he realises that another idol is flirting with you. will not intervene, but will watch helplessly, perhaps in disbelief, or perhaps because he's not-so-secretly a sucker for dramatic movie moments like this. either way, he's gonna talk to you about it afterwards. he's not likely to confront the idol unless they are actually physically touching you. then that's a completely different story.

jisung

when he sees or finds out about this certain idol hitting on you, he doesn't know whether to feel anxious and insecure about this incident or not. will probably bring it up in conversation with you not so casually- "soooo i saw that *insert idol here* was talking with you... that's nice!" he will be overly cheery and awkward about it so you know very well that he was uncomfortable by the situation. just reassure him and he should calm down a bit.

felix

he's not one to get confrontational but if he sees the same damn idol give you too much attention, it just totally rubs him up the wrong way. he can be a bit of a jealous person and can act on impulse when his feelings are involved. will pull the idol aside and sort of awkward smile before saying "you... do realise they're with me, right?" but, he doesn't brace himself for the awkwardness that is to follow after this question.

seungmin

he isn't one to make a fuss and isn't likely to get jealous. he knows he doesn't really have to be concerned because he is secure in his relationship with you. he will still keep an eye on that specific idol who keeps making eyes at you, rolling his own eyes every now and then when they make a bee-line to talk to you. but he doesn't feel the need to get involved because he trusts you.

jeongin

he can't help but feel a little envious and upset when catching sight of this idol hitting on you. but he's very unlikely to actually speak up about it. i can see him getting quite reserved and keeping to himself for the rest of the night, trying to figure out his feelings and calm his brain from overthinking. he might bring it up with you later but only if he feels that you were flirting with them too.

[random-ikea-drawer]

ok so i love les miserables

AND I JUST GOT TO SEE IT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE NORTH AMERICA TOUR (more specifically Montreal! (yes i flew to an entirely different country to see it)) and i am incredibly attached to enjolras and grantaire so here are just things i saw that made my nails dig into my thighs <3 (not just enjoltaire)

oh my dear months old source of no big sad

this is 90% incoherent rambling (SPOILERS)

- Grantaire had long hair and a long coat i think that deserves its own point

- During Red and Black, Grantaire did the old “Don Juan” with the bottle right in Enjolras’ face (he was not impressed)

- In this same song, Enjolras got really close to R’s face during “don’t let the wine go to your brain”

- Again, in Red and Black, when they tossed Grantaire’s bottle to Enj, teasing him, Grantaire grabbed the bottle in a… way… when he was giving it back to him

- Same song 😭 Grantaire was bouncing on a guy’s lap during the first few verses

- In DYHTPS, Grantaire pulled Gavroche aside away from the students crowding Enjolras (this broke my heart, he clearly loves him and doesn’t want him to be in a war)

- “Glad to do a friend a favor” with a very suggestive hand gesture

- In the “dogs will bark flees will bite”, Grantaire pointed a finger at Enjolras, the former getting real close putting his weapon between them. They got REALLY close

- Gavroche pulled the middle finger at Javert lmao

-Eponine fucking died (i knew that already, seen every bootleg and version available, still hit hard)

- During Eponine’s death Gavroche ran onto the stage, closely followed by Grantaire being held onto by Enjolras

- Gavroche tried approaching Eponine (that’s his sister bro :()) but was stopped and held onto by Grantaire. When she died however, Grantaire quickly bent to hug Gavroche, man the grief was so clear with them both.

- After she died, everyone cleared to their positions but Enjolras and Grantaire, seemingly for Enjolras to try and comfort him, but decided against it quickly and pushed past him. Grantaire placed his hand on his chest in mock offense 😭

- When the attack was about to start, Grantaire mocked and toyed with tied up Javert. When Enjolras called for hold, Grantaire threw his arms around Javert with a “yep!” and cue the battle starting immediately when that happened

- During Grantaire’s verse during Drink With Me, it’s back to Enjolras and Grantaire being center stage. Enjolras approached him, held onto his arm and with the same hand moved up to brush R’s hair, which lead to him breaking off the contact and rushing to the other corner of the stage.

-He was followed by Gavroche, who hugged him from behind and then they both fell asleep next to each other :((

- Gavroche fucking died (i knew he did still heartbreaking) and was caught by Enj, who handed him to Grantaire

- During the Gavroche solo, Grantaire stood center stage looking to the crowd, not even flinching when the gun sounded, only turning around when Gavroche was already at the top of the barricade

- He tried shaking him awake :(( then set him down and stared at him :((

- That was until Marius fell, Enjolras rushing to check on him, making Grantaire rush to his side

- R grabbed onto Enj and they both held the back of each other’s necks,, from my angle it looked like their foreheads touched but idk if they would do that but MANNN

-Enjolras fucking died first (no wtf :(( )

- Grantaire fucking died last (BRO.)

- Everyone fucking died bro

- Except Marius and JVJ of course

- Mr Thenardier, instead of singing “This one’s a queer but what can you do”, sang “This one’s a queer, I’ll try it to!” and dipped a guy in the wedding 😭

- The “to love another person is to see the face of god” line always makes me emotional just :((

that’s it haha hopefully y’all enjoy the ramblings, ty for reading this far, i seriously recommend going to watch it if you can it’s truly the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen man 😭 may be biased but i’m serious

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

hi! sorry if you've answered this already, i tried to search your blog and didn't find much, but we all know the tumblr search function is...uh...but i'd be deeply curious to hear your thoughts about Stephenie Meyer's "The Host," specifically re: treatment of the issue of souls' colonization and possession of other species...and obviously, since i'm asking you, an animorphs blog, this, my curiosity is definitely coming from a place of comparison to animorphs, but that doesn't have to be your focus!

from the posts tumblr's search algorithm did grant me, i gather you see it as wanda unlearning the colonizer's propaganda stance she takes at the start of the story, which i agree with!

but i guess every time i read it, i really can't help but feel...unsatisfied? with the way it actually engages with the horrors and colonization of it all?

sort of like, okay, The Host is this one very individual YA romance story in a sci-fi setting, which is obviously different from a heavily-Star-Trek-inspired middle-grade series about guerrilla warfare and is going to grapple with these issues differently...but still! i don't leave feeling satisfied with how it engages with consent of "host" bodies the souls are in, and i don't feel satisfied with how it engages with the souls' systemic behavior!!! but i can't really put my finger on why, and i just...was curious, i guess, whether this was something you had thoughts about.

(full disclosure: i'm asking you specifically because one of my HUGE points of existential dread on my first adulthood reread of The Host was how Jodi never wakes up, and her boyfriend just starts implied-dating the soul who's in her body? or how kids who are infested from birth are just...gone, and they were like "well sweet we can just put Wanda in there, this is a perfect solution!" and that I think hit me so hard in comparison with having read Eleutherophobia--which is, by the way, a masterwork of fanfiction that wrecked me, overwrote canon a little bit in my brain, and I think fundamentally changed how I see the possibilities of writing and narration, so, you know. thank you for that!)

(also like, i know there's different worldbuilding where it's implied most hosts just...go away...but do they actually? because Mel and the Seeker's host are still there, which kind of implies to me that it's more of a problem than the souls want to admit?! and even outside humans, all the memories, and compulsions toward certain behaviors are still there! what makes a person in this universe of Meyer's?! it's kind of fundamentally horrifying?!)

apologies for this extremely long ask, haha, and i hope you're doing well, love your blog, your writing, and all your thoughts!

Oh my god, ALL OF THIS. I thoroughly enjoy the first 98% of The Host. It's a romance novel about consent! Where the characters have to struggle to resolve the plot in a way that gets the permission of everyone in the love quadrangle to boink everyone else, and spends over 500 pages doing exactly that! It's anti-imperialist as fuck! It's got an amazing supporting cast, like every Stephenie Meyer novel! The imagery is unparalleled in its richness and coolness, because Stephenie Meyer! I've written fan fiction about it! I have an extremely normal relationship with Kyle O'Shea!

And then Sunny. And then Wanda's unnamed second human host.

I think that Meyer, either because of romance genre conventions or pressure from publishers, felt she had to write a happy ending. But the book does such a good job of setting up an unresolvable moral dilemma — either Wanda gets to be with Ian, or she does the right thing by giving Melanie's body back — that there is no path to a happy ending. If Ian did as Wanda asked and sent her in a jar to some other planet, romance fans would feel cheated. If Doc did as Melanie asked and let Wanda stay in her body, then the book's anticolonial message would be for nothing.

But resolving it through PARASITING A KID IN A VEGETATIVE STATE? What if Doc makes Wanda a nice robot body? What if Wanda stays in a jar, but Ian finds a way to join her in the jar? What if she and Melanie set up a time share? Uuuuuugggggghhhhh. The Host was THIS CLOSE to being the best anticolonial novel ever written, and then falls on its face inches from the finish line.

Which, aside, is the reason I don't think Animorphs would ever work with a happy ending. "Happy" for the protagonists would never be morally okay in the bigger story.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

This will be more of a personal post sprinkled with some thoughts on AYS?!, so for those interested strictly in shipping content, you can skip this.

I couldn't help myself yesterday to wait until my work schedule was done. So I watched the first two episodes during lunch break and work, while using the keyboard from time to time to not appear offline.

And then a second time in the evening, without as many interruptions. I even texted my sister to remind her that the episodes have been released (she has JK's songs on her playlists and that's where it stops). My tone was very casual, as if I just remembered it was already up. As if I haven't actually been thinking and obsessing about that show for a year now. But that's because I can't let this online, fandom "life" seep through my other, "real" one. I've always struggled with my feelings of shame over being part of such spaces. Which is why I avoided them completely. Up until four years ago. I'm still dealing with it. I don't want to tell people that I have an interest in a kpop ship and that it's been ongoing for a few years now. It feels to foreign to the image I allow others to have of me and this kpop stuff is childish to say the least. I've fallen victim to the talking points I've argued against intellectually. But life doesn't work that way. My rational brain doesn't get along with my feelings.

So I keep my thoughts about shipping, fandoms, jikook here. And I share them with friends and people that have a connection to it. It's why I have a blog. So I can post a photo of jikook holding hands at the beginning of their journey and at least 10 people will understand it cause they like the same thing. I'm not a loser on my own here so the thought feels comforting.

I didn't have specific expectations about AYS?!, but I felt happy watching it. It was different, but a good different. Having the opporrtunity to witness them from morning till evening without any interruptions painted an interesting picture and it's the first time to see some parts of their dynamic.

They bicker, they flirt, they get lovingly annoyed, they get bored, they get silent, they get touchy. It feels more real than any 2-min clip from a Memories DVD could possibly show us. I don't want picture perfect jikook because it doesn't exist. Being in stan spaces, all I see everyday is worship, a mentality that is then transfered to the people surrounding the idol. But I don't want JK to worship Jimin 24/7 or vice versa. That's not a real relationship of any kind. I want to see them treat each other like they're just people. Which is what they did. Too bad that some have interpreted that as negative when in fact all we got were clear signs of actual closeness. And nothing beats it like Jungkook's attitude towards Jimin being sick. Shippers/supporters have clips and endless arguments on hand to explain the closeness between jikook, but honestly? That first evening in the cabin when JM was in the bathroom and subsequently the next morning should be the sole argument from now on. It can't be more obvious if it hit us in the head.

It's not about needing confirmation at every step of them being a couple. At least I don't need that. In the long run, it wouldn't even matter if they're not. What's noticeable is that they appear to be one and that doesn't come out of thin air.

Is my mood volatile these days? Yes. Actually these past few months. Do I need this show as one of those feel good series? Definitely, because there's nothing else out there to catch my attention in terms of tv content. I don't want to pick apart and poke holes and question every single line to make myself feel miserable. Everything else is too bad and I am too lame so I rely on this show for a short, temporary thing that improves my mood. I don't care about other things, doubts or worries. I really really just want to enjoy jikook doing whatever they want. I don't have high standards.

[ilys00ga]

𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀, 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗻𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘀.

➞ pair: yoongi x reader.

➞ genre: hurt/comfort (why do I keep making these lmao), established relationships, I'm so bad at tagging sorry.

➞ warnings: angst and fluff cuz we all need that (we really do). reader has anxiety and abandonment issues, yoongi is trying his best for the sake of both of them, just relationship things.

➞ A/N: requested by @parkjennykim, this was very fun to write! thanks for yet another idea <3 I hope u like it. I'm organizing this blog/post (?) while listening to mono, and let me tell yall, it's such a vibe omg. I think you should read this while listening to that album, I love it sm, I can't even begin to explain UGH- if namjoon ever goes on a world tour, he better perform every single song in that album, cuz imma be losing my mind in the crowd, esp during moonchild. my vocal cords are already getting sore. yeah. if u want this to hit that spot, maybe u should do what I said (this is a friendly order, if u will). if not, just enjoy and pls ignore any mistakes, english has been challenging me recently (for the last 10 years lmao)

ps. I am in a dire need of a yoongi in my life. specifically the one I wrote in this one. oh how I love being a lonely fanfic writer <33

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

God knows how long it had been after it hit midnight when Yoongi stood in the kitchen. His eyes were red and heavy with drowsiness, but he couldn't sleep that night.

How does one sleep through a restless, biting night?

Surely not with a bad headache, or overflowing thoughts, and especially not with guilt chewing on his core.

He gulped, throat begging to be quenched as it held onto a slight, delicious, yet bothersome burning sensation. He opened the fridge and filled a glass with some water, raising it to his lips when loud a cry of his name, followed with a thud and a number of sobs, disturbed the quiet of the night and made him jump, startled.

His limbs froze in their place, glass almost slipping his hand and crashing on the floor when his sleep deprived brain realized that the muffled cries were yours.

Wide awake, he dashed after the sound. Thirst and sleep no longer occupied his mind, all he could think of was holding you in his arms.

He found you on the stairs, trembling as you wailed into your hands.

He hated it so much: seeing you in pain. He wanted nothing more than to shield you from the rainfall of your gloomy sky, from his own rainfall, from the world. How could one be an umbrella and the rain at once?

He blinked, once, twice, then gulped and heaved a deep, tired breath.

One storm doesn’t require another storm to be calmed down, that he knew. One needs to be composed and collected to stand still during a storm, that he knew as well.

With worried eyes, he gently called out your name and walked up to you, “darling, what’s wrong?”

You looked up as soon as you heard his worried voice, some tiny sense of relief washed over you when you saw him right there. A hundred daggers digged so deep into his heart and bones, aching, the moment a broken whimper of his name fell from your lips.

Without a second thought, Yoongi hugged your face to his chest. One of his hands was patting your back and the other affectionately caressed your head.

As he listened to his name that never left your lips, Yoongi held you there on the cold of the stairs with nothing but sweet nothings whispered back to your ears.

Everything he did and said was so gentle and soft, like he was so afraid you'd crack and come to tiny bits and pieces at any given moment. It all made you want to cry even harder, to hold him so tight and never let go.

Soon, when your tears started winding down, pulled away and cradled your face with his hands, palms faintly pressing on your cheeks as if he hoped to share their warmth with you.

Tender eyes met your wet ones and stared as their owner’s voice made its way through the noise of your sniffles and hiccups. He said, “It’s alright. I'm here. Talk to me, hmm?”

You answered his plea with a small nod, before wiping your tear stained skin and hugging him again. He smelt like home. You took a deep breath, greedily feeding your lungs with his lovely scent.

He hugged you back, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He pressed light kisses on your temple, patiently waiting for you to talk.

“I had a really scary nightmare. so, so scary- I woke up, didn’t find you there- then…then I remembered the fight we had earlier. I…I thought I lost you- I'm sorry. sorry for the stupid things I said earlier. I love you so much! please don’t leave. please..”

Your voice quivered with fresh tears ready to be spilled again. Yoongi started hushing you as soon as he noticed that you were working yourself up.

Squeezing you in his arms, he whispered “I never left, and I never will.”

“I’m all right, nothing happened to me, see?” he leaned away just enough to allow you to take a quick look at his body, then added, “a stupid fight is not going to make me leave. I love you way too much for that, and I'm sorry for hurting you too.”

He could still read fear and uncertainty all over your face, and he didn't like that. He knew that you trusted him, and he didn't doubt your love for him.

At first, he didn't get it. He didn't understand the insecurities, the anxiety and the nightmares you suffered from especially after the inevitably worst of arguments that happened between you and him. But after longer and deeper talks, with you expressing your feelings and him listening with careful ears, it made much more sense to him.

Sometimes he hated himself for triggering your alarms and making it harder for you, but he knew it was neither his fault nor was it yours.

Growth and pain are two key elements that come arm in arm with love, and fights are an unpreventable part of any kind of relationship. For all that, he always ended up blaming himself for making you question your worth to him when he can't even sleep without you happily cuddling his side.

Softly, lovingly, he started prepping tender kisses over your cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, temples, all over your flushed face.

It worked like watching waving fields of green wheat dancing with the wind, your storm started to slowly die down and your heart felt at ease again. slowly, but definitely.

Smiling ever so affectionately, Yoongi sealed his reassurance with a loving kiss that consumed you whole, and it left the corners of your mouth curving up in a dazzling smile. You nuzzled his chest and sighed.

“I really hate fighting with you.” you mumbled into his clothed chest, drained and light headed from all the crying and nearly-a-panic-attack you went through.

“I know, I'm sorry. I hate it too." he whispered back.

There was a pause of comfortable silence, with both of you breathing each other in, before he wondered aloud: “did you fall down the stairs? are you okay?”

You chuckled breathily at his question, recalling the hysteria he had to deal with just a few minutes ago. But Yoongi was there, right beside you. your arms were tightly wrapped around his torso, right by your side.

He had some kind of exceptionally irrepressible magic in those fierce eyes and that gummy smile of his, you inarguably couldn’t be more grateful for that.

“I'm alright. Was too busy crying, I didn’t even feel a thing to be honest.” you said, and he giggled.

“I love when you’re clumsy like that, but please be more careful, muffin. Can’t have you hurting yourself because of me even more." Even with your face buried into the crook of his neck, you could feel and hear the heavy pout in that comment.

Huffing, you leaned away with furrowed brows and a strict gaze. Yoongi gulped. Hesitation took over him, yet he knew that honesty is the only thing that must be present to drive this conversation to an end.

Honestly brings clarity, he found himself reminding himself of that very often.

"as long as we take care of each other, it's okay. I love you." you affirmed, and perhaps Yoongi almost teared up because of the way you looked at him right then and there. He wouldn't utter a word to spoil that information out loud, though.

The shy grin and the flushed cheeks you were met with were worth risking the entire world and its eight billion residents. You couldn't help but smile and pull him into another hug.

"This is great and all, but my butt is numbed. I think there's no blood flowing down there anymore," he said, his heart swooning when you giggled at his humorous change of topic, so relieved that he was finally able to hear your brightness again.

"Let's go back to rest, darling." He stood up, grabbed your hand and squeezed it in his, then gently pulled your body up and dragged you to your shared bedroom, where everything and everyone else meant little to nothing at all as you laid in each other's arms.

[toomuchracket]

candlelight (d word matty x reader smut)

the 24th day of promptober, basically an excuse to write the long-awaited first time fic. it's over five thousand words long - reader, i am EXHAUSTED. i really hope you enjoy it <3

you had your suspicions that this might be true long before you even knew him, but now you can actually confirm it: matty healy is a fucking excellent boyfriend.

boyfriend. as in, your boyfriend. yours. it still hasn't sunk in yet.

regardless, as mentioned, he's very adept in the role. so adept, in fact, that listing the qualities he's displayed and things he did for you today would be akin to reading out the lyrics of a post-disney pop song. 

you'll do it anyway. matty drove into central london at rush hour on a friday to pick you up from work and drive you back to your flat, rather than let you get the train home and meet you there later, simply because he wanted to spend more time with you. during said drive home, he stopped at mcdonald's when you offhandedly mentioned you were hungry, then coaxed you into m&s to buy you a bottle of wine and some flowers, as a means of cheering you up after you said your day had been stressful.

said stressful day also led to right now, an act more hbo than disney, but still on the "excellent boyfriend matty" vibe. you're snuggled up on the sofa with your back against matty's chest, the west wing muted and all but forgotten on the tv. his lips are on your temple, his left arm is slung cosily over your waist, and his right hand is down your jeans; more specifically (and importantly), his fingers have slipped under the band of your panties, and are currently working diligently to get you off.

and they're successful - he's successful, cooing rhetorical questions like "that feel good, sweet girl?" and "you needed this, didn't you, darling? needed something to get all the tension out of that beautiful body of yours?". you'd answer if you could, blush at his compliments and pet names if you could, but your brain is so hazy from pleasure that all it can manage to make you do is tilt your head towards matty and smile tiredly in between moans.

he likes that, though; you get a beaming smile in return, and his free hand comes up to tenderly cup your jaw. it's quite incongruous with the way his other is finger-fucking you (there's really no alternative word for it), but you think it's just so matty, simultaneously a sweet little cupcake and the personification of sex itself.

a particularly skillful hooking of his fingers hits an area inside you that you weren't sure existed. eyes still locked on matty's, your jaw drops with a stuttered whimper, and his copies it, accompanied by a moan of his own. "god, you're so fucking responsive. i'm obsessed with it. obsessed with you, gorgeous."

you giggle, half from matty's words, half from the ecstatic delirium his fingers are inducing in you. matty smiles again, leaning down to kiss you; you kiss him back eagerly, mouth opening with a sigh as soon as your lips meet. your boyfriend lightly traces yours with his tongue, slipping it into your mouth as his fingers speed up - impossible, you'd have thought - in your cunt.

the familiar feeling begins to build in the pit of your stomach, pulling every muscle in your body into tension as it grows. every muscle except for those in your throat, you suppose - you whine and moan into matty's mouth, a symphony composed by and performed just for him, one he groans in harmony with as he feels you clench around his fingers. he doesn't stop moving them at all, though, he keeps thrusting and hooking and hitting that one spot and you feel so fucking good you think you might break apart. which is ironic, really, given how your imminent orgasm has tightened your muscles so much that you're shaking uncontrollably.

then again, something that both you and matty know all too well is that there's only so far you can tighten a guitar string before it just��� snaps. another thing both you and matty know all too well? you're about to do the same.

he pulls back from the kiss just far enough that he can be understood when he talks. "i know you're close, darling. whenever you're ready, i want you to cum for me. you can do that for me, can't you, sweetheart?"

"mhmm," you somehow manage to moan out.

matty smiles. "good girl."

yeah, that'll do it. 

with a garbled cry, you cum, the build up of pleasure in your stomach shattering and careening through your veins. eyes closed,  you're vaguely aware of your limbs moving of their own accord, but the only thing you can truly feel are matty's hands on your jaw and slowly circling your clit through orgasm, respectively. somewhere below the heartbeat thumping loudly in your eardrums, you hear him moan soft praises. "that's it, that's my girl. shit, you look so beautiful when you cum, fucking love it. love making you feel good, s'my favourite, you're my favourite."

as the haze of pleasure leaves your brain somewhat, you blink back to reality and find matty looking at you adoringly. your cheeks grow warm under his gaze, and you smile shyly. "hi, baby."

"hi," matty blushes at the pet name - he always does, and you're obsessed with it. "was that good, sweetheart?"

"calling what you just did to me 'good' is such an understatement, it's almost offensive."

he laughs, sliding his hand out from your jeans and into his mouth. your jaw drops as he sucks your wetness from his own fingers, and practically hits the floor when he keeps speaking. "the same could be said for saying you taste 'nice', actually."

"jesus christ," you shake your head, leaning over to kiss your boyfriend. it's a soft kiss, but being able to taste yourself on his lips drives you a tiny bit insane - well, more than you already are when it comes to matty. "right - my turn to make you feel good."

matty sighs, stroking your hair. "baby, you need to stop thinking like that."

your brow furrows in genuine confusion. "like what?"

"like… that pleasure has to be something, i don't know, transactional? i know these stupid boys you've fucked in the past have probably made you think that was the done thing - i mean, god knows i used to think that," matty shudders, genuinely shudders at the memory, and you smile. "but we don't have to even the score, so to speak, every time we get together. you needed to feel good, and i wanted to make you feel good, and i did. you don't have to give me an orgasm just because i gave you one, sweetheart. you know what i mean?"

you do know what he means, and you genuinely appreciate the honesty and sweetness of the statement, but… you also just really, really want to make him cum. stubborn, obstinate little shit that your boyfriend is, though, you know he won't let you get him off right now, just to prove his point.

although, you wonder… does that extend to something that would get you both off at the same time?

matty raises an eyebrow when you ask him as much. "no offence, but do you have the energy to sixty-nine right now, babe?"

"no, i don't," you reply, moving to properly straddle his lap and clasp your hands behind his neck; matty's hands move to your waist almost automatically. "but that's actually not what i was referring to, baby."

his eyes widen. "oh. you want us to…?" matty clears his throat - he tries to keep his face composed, but you don't miss the way the corners of his pretty lips turn upwards in excitement. "sorry, sweetheart, let me start again: are you asking me to have sex with you for the first time in our relationship?"

"yes, matty," you don't even try to keep the grin from your face. "i'm asking you to have sex with me for the first time in our relationship. today. right now, actually, if you want."

"do you want, though?" matty asks, rubbing slow circles into your hips. "you aren't just asking me because you think i want to? i mean, i do, i really, really do, darling, but only if it's what you want."

you weave your hands into his hair. "can i tell you a secret?"

"of course, sweetheart."

smiling, you lean right in to whisper in matty's ear. "i've been getting off to the thought of you fucking me for months. and i respected your decision not to sleep with me until we were an official couple, but i don't think i can go any longer without knowing what you feel like inside me."

"fuck, sweetheart, me too," matty groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder. he kisses you, long and slow and deep and passionate, and murmurs against your lips. "alright. let's have sex. but first, i kind of want to see how you got off to the thought of us."

"oh, that's easy. the first time was like this," you begin grinding your hips down onto his, a flush of arousal passing over you as you feel matty get hard(er) underneath you. "on my pillow, after the first awards ceremony we both went to."

matty actually has to bury his face in his hands. "jesus fucking christ, woman," he inhales sharply as he looks back up, eyes jet black with desire. "i got off to the same thought that night, too. but i'd rather fuck you than my hand in demonstration, right now, sweetheart, if you wouldn't mind."

"i'd rather that too, baby," you kiss him. "show me another time, though, yeah?"

your boyfriend kisses you in return. "whatever my girl wants. and now," he hooks his hands under your bum and stands, smiling when you shriek at the sudden movement. "let me take you to bed."

you've never been so happy to live in a single-storey flat in your life - it takes less than a minute for matty to carry you to your bedroom and lay you down carefully on your bed. you lean up to kiss him, pouting when he merely pecks you and climbs off the mattress. "baby, what are you doing?"

matty pulls his lighter from his pocket and waves it at you. "this."

"arson?"

"no, silly girl," he rolls his eyes. "i'm setting the mood. might as well make use of the excessive amount of candles you've got in here, yeah?"

with that, he dots around the room, lighting the tealights you've placed on almost every suitable surface. he stops when he reaches the bedside table, looking wide-eyed at you. "this is one of your fancy space nk ones, isn't it?"

"yeah. diptyque. same scent as my perfume."

matty tentatively lifts the lid off and sniffs. "my favourite smell in the world," he grins, and you blush. "but this candle is brand new."

"it is."

"so…" matty chews his lip.

you raise a brow. "so?"

he looks at you almost nervously. "am i allowed to light it?"

"hmmm," you roll onto your side to face your boyfriend. "i mean, i was going to save it for a special occasion. but i guess this'll do."

you're teasing. matty knows this, and he raises his eyebrows dramatically. "oh, 'this'll do', will it, miss? you really do know how to make a man feel special."

you shrug. "i know, i'm the sweetest girl in the world," you sit up, laughing. "i'm kidding, baby. about me and the special occasion thing. go ahead. light it up."

matty does as you ask, then gently climbs on top of you and kisses your head. in the glow of the flickering flames around the room, he looks even more gorgeous than usual, those beautiful eyes warmer than you've ever seen them. "nah, you really are the sweetest girl in the world."

"only for you."

"my sweet girl," he kisses all over your face. "my sweet, beautiful girl. can i undress you, darling?"

you nod, shyly. "just to say, i would've worn nicer underwear if i knew this was going to happen. i mean, it's a nice set i've got on, because i thought i should make an effort for you coming over tonight, but you've seen it before, you know? should've bought something new, been all extra pretty for you. m'sor-"

"don't you dare say sorry, sweetheart. don't apologise to me, especially not about underwear, jesus christ," matty cuts off your nervous - because suddenly, you're actually a little bit nervous - babbling, stroking your cheek. "you'd be gorgeous in anything. and the fact i get to see you in your underwear at all is a privilege. and a turn-on. a massive, massive turn-on."

"really?"

"if it wasn't so crass, i would literally put your hand on my dick right now to feel how hard it is at the thought of you in lingerie."

you laugh. "when has being crass ever stopped you from doing anything?"

matty huffs out a laugh, and his eyes crinkle into that smile of his you absolutely love, the one that means he's truly, truly happy. "just don't want to be anything other than perfect for you right now, darling. this means a lot to me."

"same here," you comb through his curls with your fingers. "s'been a while since i've done this. i'm glad it's you i'm doing it with now."

"thank you for letting me, sweetheart," he kisses your nose. "we'll go at whatever pace you like, yeah? you call the shots."

you nod. "thank you. i'm happy for you to take my clothes off, now."

"alright, baby, let me just get my shirt off so you don't feel too exposed."

"can i do it?"

matty smiles. "of course."

he sits back on his knees, and you lean up to catch his lips in a kiss as your hands find the buttons on his flannel. it deepens with every one you undo; by the time you slide it down his shoulders, you're practically devouring each other. 

god. why were you ever nervous? the way he kisses you… of course he wants you, and wants you to feel good. matty's desire is undeniable, and so is his affection. you hope that comes across on your behalf too.

judging by matty's reaction - a whine of "fuck, babe" and an impatient tug at the hem of your top - it does. you smile into the kiss, before you pull away and raise your arms and let your boyfriend do what you know he's been secretly longing to do for ages.

the black fabric of your top hits the floor, and so does matty's jaw. his eyes trail up and down your torso, slowly taking in the way the dark blue lace looks against your soft skin; he looks at you for so long that you genuinely can't deal with it, busying yourself with moving to unfasten his jeans. 

matty catches your hands in his own before you properly can, though. "hey, sweetheart, look at me for a second, please."

you reluctantly do as asked, biting your lip and praying to any and all deities that it comes across as sexy instead of bashful. your boyfriend's eyes are soft when you meet them with your own, and he smiles that incredible smile again. "you, my girl, are fucking beautiful," he says, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he means every word. "like, i can't actually comprehend it. nor can i comprehend what the utter fuck a gorgeous young thing like you is doing with me, but i'd be an idiot if i didn't just shut up and enjoy it."

"matty healy, that might honestly be the most absurd thing you've ever said," you reply. "look at you, for fuck's sake - i am punching so far above my weight with you."

"good joke, babe."

"i'm serious!"

"you're delusional, sweetheart," matty giggles, ever so lightly kissing down your chest and stomach as he undoes your jeans. you wriggle around so he can slide them off, exposing your (pretty fucking wet) brazilian-style panties. "like fucking hell. you're perfect. but you're also delusional, if you think i'm not the one punching here."

"well, either way," you take matty's hand and cup it over your core so he can feel how wet you are. "you're the one turning me on."

your boyfriend's breath is shaky when he exhales, uttering an "oh fuck" through it. "you know, baby," he says, mouth centimetres from your own. "i've never been harder in my life than i am at this moment."

"oh?" you smirk, pride turning you bolder than you expected. "i think we should do something about that, then," you tap matty's shoulder so he moves back, then you crawl forward and finally properly undo his jeans. your whole back is open to matty, and you press a kiss to his hip tattoo and speak softly. "baby, this is the part where you take my bra off."

matty's hands are on your spine so quickly it's almost funny. "sit up, sweetheart."

you oblige, shuffling back into a sitting position and sliding your bra straps down your arms as matty kicks his jeans off. and that's it. there you are. both as half-naked and turned on as each other.

for a moment, all you do is stare at each other. you have no idea how long for - time is a foreign concept, as is everything else other than the man sitting in front of you, lean and beautiful and clearly aching with want. whether it's a trick of the candlelight, you're unsure, but there's barely any trace of brown left in matty's eyes; he's nothing short of desperate. desperate for you.

you don't think you're faring any better. your legs are so incapable of closing that they might as well be made of magnets, and there's a burning in your cheeks that you know fine well isn't because of the open flames in the room. it's undeniable - you have never wanted someone so much in your life.

surprisingly, it's you who makes the first move, lying down and fanning your hair out on the pillow. once you're comfy, angled right and legs spread, you beckon matty over with a manicured finger. gaze never breaking from yours, he crawls towards you, lithe and hard and hot as fuck, placing his hands on either side of your head and hovering over you.

a moment of nothing, and then you're kissing. unlike your other kisses with matty, this one is almost completely devoid of sweetness; it's almost feral, animalistic, fuelled on nothing more than sheer fucking lust. his hips roll into yours, a topsy-turvy version of the way you grinded on him earlier, and the association with your dirty dreams about your boyfriend pushes you over the edge of desire.

"please, baby, i need you inside me," you whimper into matty. "there are condoms in the table to your left. just please, please fuck me now. need you, please, matty."

it's truly a sign of how turned on matty is that he doesn't take the piss out of you for having condoms on hand. instead, he moves his lips to your neck and flails blindly in your bedside drawer (thankfully, on the opposite side of the bed from your fancy candle) until he finds one. 

as he shifts to take his boxers off, matty's lips briefly return to yours, then he speaks. "do you want to put it on me, darling?"

"no, thank you," you shake your head, grinning. "i like watching you touch yourself too much for that."

a breathy laugh, then matty tears the packet open with his teeth - a wave of arousal crashes against your underwear. "eyes on me, then, my girl."

like you'd ever want to look at anything else.

you do as requested, though, teeth sinking into your bottom lip of their own accord as you watch your boyfriend roll the condom onto his dick. once he's satisfied with it, matty leans back over you, smiling, and kisses your nose. "how you feeling, sweetheart?"

"perfect."

"fuck yeah you are," matty kisses you, a short, sweet, affectionate brush of the lips. "would you like to keep going?"

you nod enthusiastically. "please."

"like this? or do you want us to switch position?"

"this works for me," you caress your boyfriend's sharp jaw. "means i get to see that pretty face of yours."

"oh, she's cute," matty giggles. "alright, baby. can i fuck you now, finally, as we've both so badly wanted for so long?"

"yes," comes your breathy reply. you lift your hips, and then your legs, so matty can slide your last remaining clothing off, and that's it. the two of you, bare.

matty shuffles forward, properly leaning over you. despite the position and predicament you're in, his eyes are soft  and so is his voice. "remember, sweetheart, you're in charge - anything you say goes. gonna slip inside you now, if that's alright?"

"please."

your boyfriend slides his dick up and down your folds to gather your (plentiful) wetness, smiling at the moan you let out when he brushes your clit. "whatever my sweet girl wants."

with that… he slowly, so slowly that you're amazed by his restraint, pushes into you. holy fuck. your eyes lock onto matty's, both your mouths widening in pleasure the deeper he gets; when he bottoms out completely, yours widens in the opposite direction, into an excited smile.

matty smiles too, blinking slowly to compose himself. "shit, baby," he breathes, face so close to yours that your noses brush against each other. "you're so fucking tight."

"i think you're just big," you reply, just as breathily. "feel so fucking good inside me, matty. better than i dreamed."

"yeah? same here," matty kisses you, far more sweetly than you would necessarily have expected from a man quite literally balls deep inside your cunt. you moan when his lips touch yours, clenching involuntarily; your boyfriend all but whimpers at the sensation. "christ. can i move yet, sweetheart? might explode if you keep squeezing me like that. but i'll endure it as long as you need me to. fuck, i'd do anything for you."

his babbling makes your ego skyrocket - all you've done is let matty put his dick inside you and clench around it once, and this is his reaction? damn. you almost worry how he'll respond to actually fucking you.

but you can't fucking wait to find out. 

"yeah, baby," you run your thumb over matty's lips, rosy-red and kiss-bitten. ""you can fuck me now."

he sucks your thumb into his mouth and winks, making you giggle. "thank you, sweet girl. hold on to me, yeah? wanna be close to you."

biting back the urge to be sarcastic and point out to matty that he's literally inside you, you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. matty smiles. "good girl."

your eyelids flutter, partially from the praise, but mostly from the way matty slowly slides almost completely out of you and then thrusts - still gently, but with a little bit of force behind it - back in. "oh. do that again, please."

"was planning on it, sweet girl," matty grins; his smile drops into an almost disbelieving expression as he thrusts into you again. "christ, you feel so fucking good around me. could stay in you forever."

you moan, throwing your head back - matty takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck and trail kisses down to your chest. when he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, you whine. "you can go a little bit faster, baby. please, please go faster, fuck me properly."

"fuck," matty moves his head so he can look you in the eye. "you're sure? i can stay at this pace for a bit, i don't mind."

he's so sweet your heart aches. but you really don't want him to be sweet, not right now. 

you shake your head. "faster, harder, please. i can take it. can take you. don't you want to see me take you like a good girl?"

"shit, sweetheart," matty groans, burying his head in your neck. "alright. hold tight."

his hips all but slam into yours, over and over and over and over; the sound, a mixture of your overwhelming arousal and skin meeting skin, is obscene. it's the best thing you've ever heard.

well, that's not strictly true - the way your boyfriend whimpers your name into your lips, your neck, your chest is pretty fucking sexy too. matty can't seem to pick a place on your body to settle his mouth on, as if the pleasure shocks him into moving it every time he slips back inside your cunt. you know how he feels; another jolt of something electric fires through your nervous system every time he does, clenching your muscles, triggering your moans, wiping all thoughts out of your mind other than him.

something else sparks in you, too: realisation. for the first time in your life, you finally truly understand what everyone's on about. 

this is sex.

deliriously, you giggle. matty looks at you, tenderness obvious in his eyes despite the low light. "you good, my darling?"

"m'really happy," you lean up to kiss him, and he eagerly reciprocates. a particularly good thrust has you crying into him. "fuck, don't stop doing that."

"yeah?" matty breathes. "you like it when i fuck you like that, sweetheart?"

"fucking love it," you whine, hand sliding into matty's hair to keep him close. "don't stop, please. wanna cum."

"mmm, i want that too," your boyfriend hums. "can i touch you, baby? get you off again?"

an enthusiastic nod. "you can do whatever you want."

matty laughs, bringing his hand to rest on your cheek. "god, you're so fucking cute. and so fucking pretty for me when i fuck you."

you preen at the praise, angling your head to the side to take matty's thumb in your mouth. his breath catches when you release it with a pop, and he doesn't quite regain it until after you speak. "just to help you get me off, yeah?"

a beat passes, and something changes in matty's eyes. he smirks, and thrusts impossibly deeper inside you; while you gasp at that, he leans back slightly to reach down and rub little circles into your clit with his thumb. "like this?"

you can't even speak, the extra layer of stimulation shutting down your brain even more than it already was; all you can do is moan, whine, whimper out your boyfriend's name as he fucks you better than anyone else ever has before. every movement of his hips and hand sends shockwaves through your body, shockwaves beginning to gather in the pit of your stomach in a very familiar way.

and you don't even need to tell him - not that you could if you wanted to, but as soon as you open your mouth to try he cuts you off. "you're close, aren't you, darling?"

matty smiles when you nod, kissing your forehead tenderly. "i want you to cum for me whenever you feel like it, sweet girl. don't hold back. s'all about you."

"but…" you regain your voice just enough to protest.

"trust me, babe, i'll go whenever you do."

"you sure?" you choke out through the pleasure haze.

he buries his head in your neck. "been forcing myself not to cum since i first got inside you, honestly. feel fucking perfect, my perfect girl."

oh.

"matty, baby," you whimper. "keep talking."

you feel him smile against your skin before he kisses up your neck, over your jaw, onto your lips. "oh, you like it when i talk to you? dirty girl. but so good for me, my good girl, all - fucking - mine."

the final three words are punctuated by the hardest thrusts yet; matty's hips slam into yours so strongly that you wouldn't be surprised if you can't walk later. but it feels fucking delicious - he feels fucking delicious - and you feel the tension in your stomach tighten up a notch every time he slides back into you. your limbs and lips quiver against your boyfriend, and your eyes roll back into your head.

your orgasm is so close you can practically taste it. it's hard to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to lock them on matty's. he looks absolutely fucked, jaw hanging slack and eyes heavy, but you think he's never looked better; you're not sure if the same can be said for you, but you know you must look equally as fucked as him, if not more, all panting breaths and shaky jaw.

matty thinks you're beautiful, though. he tells you as much, accompanies it with a "need you to cum for me, my girl", and that's it. that's all you need.

for the second time in… well, you have no fucking idea how long, but it's irrelevant - the build-up of pleasure in your taut, shaking body shatters, skittering through your skin and veins and nerves and lungs and voice. nails digging into matty's hair and back, you cum with a guttural wail of his name, clinging to him with your head buried in his neck like he's the only thing tethering you to reality; he might as well be, given that you've only managed to think about him for the duration of your sex session.

"fuck, sweetheart, i'm cumming," matty groans. he leans back, detaching the two of you, holding onto your waist for leverage as he thrusts sloppily into you; as he cums, he groans your name, those beautiful eyes clamping shut in the throes of ecstasy.

they blink open slowly once matty pulls out of you, gaze trailing up your heaving body to meet your own. once again, he leans down to kiss you, resting his forearms either side of your head. it's a sweet kiss, tender, at total odds with what the two of you just did. but it's perfect. he's perfect. you're perfect together.

"thank you," you smile sleepily, stroking your boyfriend's sweaty face. "that was… wow."

"understatement of the fucking century," he smiles in return. "sweetheart, that was without question the best sex i have ever had."

you snort. "shut up. i mean, same, but… come on, matty."

"i'm not kidding, darling. really," matty kisses your nose. "feels like you were made for me. in general, to be honest."

well, if you're being honest… "i like being yours, baby."

"not as much as i like being yours, i bet."

you sigh. "matty, i really can't debate with you right now. you tired me out too much."

"yeah?" he's smug. of course he is. but then he softens, the more vulnerable side of him you really like coming out a bit. "was it good enough for you, darling? it wasn't too much, or lacking anything?"

a kiss shuts him up, and a soft smile reassures him. "it was perfect. really. can't wait to do it again."

another kiss. "well, let me clean you up a bit first, sweetheart. actually, d'you want a cig, too? i'll run through and get them."

"ooh, yeah," you shuffle onto your elbows, watching with interest as your boyfriend climbs off the bed and removes the condom. "actually, can you bring my phone too? need to put a reminder in it to book a gp appointment."

matty looks up at you in a state of total confusion; given that he's currently tying the condom off, it's pretty fucking funny. "yeah. you ok, sweetheart?"

"mhmm. just seeing the condom made me think," you reply, stretching. "i want to go on the pill."

"jesus fucking- whatever you want, darling."

[gothcsz]

i'm horny and thinking about how good javier peña would be at eating your pussy 😵‍💫

so real prima, so real.... with a stache and nose like that, he has no choice but to be good at it i fear.

and maybe i'm biased because i really enjoy it, but i feel like he's specifically skilled when it comes to face riding omg.... wait let me cook!

His arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush against his mouth and using his strength to keep you there.

Your own mouth opens in a silent scream as his tongue sinfully laps at every crevice of your warm sex, saturated in your arousal from taking him reverse cowgirl style.

Both of you were treading that very fine line of your orgasms. His cock driving into you so deliciously from the different angle melting your brain, and the view of your folds swallowing him inside of your pretty pussy enough to have him starved and craving you.

“Gotta taste you baby. My mouth's fuckin' watering over here.”

And that's how you got here, now bending over a little more, your warm breath fanning over his slick erection, from being inside of you, while your head rests gently on his broad thigh, whiny moans pushing past your lips.

He eats you out like you're the sweetest fruit he's ever tasted. The prickly hairs of his mustache a delightful juxtaposition to the wetness of his mouth.

His swollen lips wrap around your clit, suckling it softly as he pulls back with it still in his mouth, letting the fleshy part snap back with an obscene sound. He groans, repeating the action over and over before lightly grazing his teeth against your sensitive pearl.

A jolt runs up your spine and you grind down against his face, his curved nose doing wonders gliding along your slit.

“Mmm that’s right baby keep movin’ like that.” His large hand caresses the skin of your ass, groping and enjoying how pliable you are.

You do as he says, sensually moving your hips at a rhythm that makes you sing his name.

He listens, always attuned to you and what makes you moan so sweetly. His tongue is flat at first, letting your sensitive cunt glide against his wet and slightly textured muscle. 

He’s eating your pussy so good, you just have to lean over and lick from his plush tip all the way down to his balls, sucking one gently into your mouth. This has him tightening his grip on your thighs and hips. You fucking love it.

After leaving his scrotum wet and glistening with your saliva, you bring your lips to wrap around the head of his cock before slowly taking him into your mouth.

He mutters a few curse words and you go lower until he’s brushing against the entrance of your throat.

The tip of his tongue curls upwards, hitting the sensitive spot under the fleshy hood perfectly and it has you muffling a gasp against his hard cock, choking around him.

“Fuck, cariño, don’t know which I like more— this pretty cunt or that fuckin’ mouth.” 

You whimper, going from grinding on him to lightly bouncing your ass, his mouth making out with your cunt with the same fiery passion with which he kisses you.

You swear you can cum just from smoochin’ him.

It isn’t much after that you two finish, you squeeze your thighs tightly against his head and clench around nothing; your orgasm absolutely re-wiring your brain. Javier’s just that good. And he fucking knows it.

You soak his face with your release and he grunts loudly, lapping up every. drop. then sucking on your clit before placing soft and gentle kisses to it. He can feel your sex pulsating against his lips.

His warm and heady cum fills your mouth and you swallow like a good girl, the action clenching your throat around his dick and he smacks your ass lightly in response.

“Tan rica (so tasty), hermosa. Taste like fuckin’ candy.” 

[strniohoeee]

Chris with a rockstar girl who sings and plays electric guitar 😏 like she’s very confident and can make him weak in the knees!!… also I love all your stories and writings 🫶🏻❤️

Her

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Chris is madly in love with his rockstar girlfriend, and can’t stop obsessing over her🎸

Warning⚠️: None, it’s pretty short sadly. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be smutty. I felt like not really but IDK🥹I still hope you enjoy tho!

Song for the imagine: Feel Good Inc.- Gorillaz

Chris POV

She was hot….so fucking hot. She was mysterious and dark, mean but nice. She was my wildest dreams in living flesh. She could make me crumble just by the way she looked at me. She was so powerful, and she was all mine.

I wasn’t too sure how I got her, I was the total opposite of her. I was foolish, dumb and oftentimes seen as immature. She liked all this about me, and I wasn’t too sure why when she was the textbook definition of Divine Feminity.

I would say we were the black cat and golden retriever stereotypical couple. I just followed her around with hella heart eyes as she ran everything. Confidence oozing out of her pores. Most people didn’t think we were dating, but she always put it out there.

“Who’s he?” Some random band guy would ask

“That’s my boyfriend and his names Chris” she would respond with a blunt expression

Most times they would scurry away at her demeanor. She was very confident and powerful, but she was the sweetest most loving girl I’ve ever spoken to. She had my heart melting constantly.

She was a singer and played the electric guitar. She was part of a band that was pretty popular in our area. Always playing gigs, and I tagged along. Cheering her on from the front row, or from backstage. I loved my baby

Her voice when she sang….sent chills down my spine. For someone who was soft spoken with me she sure knew how to make her voice hoarse and raspy as she sang. Sending chills throughout my whole body.

The way her fingers worked quickly against the guitar, and how her head went back as she held a note. I was ready to drop to my knees for her.

Her dark red lips…so plump staining the microphone as she sang every song. The way her long hair flowed as she moved around. Her tattooed arms shining bright against the lights reflecting down on her. The way her veins would stand out in her neck as she would hit one specific note in one specific song. It was my favorite song, and she was my favorite singer.

I would find my jaw slack, my pupils blown and my knees weak. She was so fucking beautiful.

The way she ran her hands through her hair sent shock waves through my brain. How could I possibly be dating someone as talented and gorgeous as her.

I was beyond head over heels for this girl, and I couldn’t figure out how to control myself.

I was at one specific show right now standing on the sidelines watching her.

She was currently doing a cover of DONTTRUSTME by 3OH!3. The way her voice flowed through my brain, I swear I was being hypnotized. How does one cover a song, and make it sound so fucking sexy.

After her set she went backstage, and I met her there

“Amazing show baby” I said walking in

“My loveeeee thank you” she said smiling bright and opening her arms for a hug

“I swore I was hypnotized” I said kissing her

“I try” she said winking at me

Fuck she was making me weak in the knees just by winking at me.

“So beautiful and sexy and dark” I said to her biting my lip

“Ouu you might want to watch how you speak, or I’ll act out” she said looking at me shyly

“Maybe you should” I said looking her her through half lidded eyes

“I have another set in five minutes baby” she said pouting

“Noo” I said pulling her in for another kiss

“I know baby, but later on tonight” she said winking

“Mmm yes watching you for another hour will work me up some more” I said rubbing my hands down her sides, snaking my arms around her back and giving her ass a squeeze

“Behave now” she said looking up at me

“I am…I promise” I said looking down at her

“Let me finish this set, and I’ll make all your wishes come true” she said running her hand down my chest

“Sounds amazing” I said winking at her

She got ready for her next set, and I sat there watching her in a trance. God this was the woman for me.

The End

I hope you guys enjoyed this one I’m sorry it was short. I wasn’t too sure how to make it super long. I’m not really experienced as far as like a rockstar girlfriend😭😭

-J💅🏽

[apathetic-revenant]

I've gotten a major influx in comments recently on By the Skin of Your Teeth, since the Book of Bill has had a lot of people hankering for GF fic especially of the angsty 80s Paranoid Ford variety. I don't even have to conjecture that, a lot of them have specifically said that in their comments.

it is, honestly, incredible, especially at this particular moment. mental illness has hit my ability to write this whole past year to a degree that I don't think I've ever been through before, and it's been incredibly devastating. writing is such an important thing to me, on so many levels, and having that taken away just really fucks me up in a lot of ways.

I know I haven't really been posting any GF stuff or participating in the Book of Bill activity since getting back on here. that's not because I have any negative feelings towards the show. it's nothing to do with the show itself at all, honestly. it's just, uh, not having much brain electricity at the moment. actually the day I picked up the Book of Bill was literally the same day I switched antidepressants and uh, funny story about that,

and it does kinda suck a bit to come back to this fandom that has meant so much to me, right when the first big new thing in years is happening, and not be able engage with it much for no better reason than not having enough brain chemicals. so the fact that so many people are enjoying this fic now, with absolutely no prompting on my part, is just...really nice. it makes me feel like I can still kind of be part of the fandom even though I'm really not able to create anything new for it right now.

and in a more general sense, I think I really really needed people saying nice things about my writing. I burned out so hard trying to write when I really couldn't that eventually I just accumulated a massive negative association with it. I knew I needed to rekindle some positive feelings there to be able to start doing it again at all, because fucking ADHD brain literally Will Not do a task at all if it's not getting good feelings out of it--but that same thing meant that I couldn't make anything new in order to actually get the positive association back. it was all very catch-22 and extremely frustrating.

so this? yeah. genuinely cannot overstate the very real mental health benefits of having people keysmash in the comments of a Gravity Falls fic that I wrote seven years ago. incredible. bless you all.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I absolutely adore Tang River Water au!

I really like the idea that Tang accidentally drank water from this river and became pregnant just out of carelessness. It's too hilarious. An even funnier thing was that now their child is the rebirth of jade emperor. They can never have a break. Poor guys.

But for some reason it became very interesting to me what type of Tang will be during pregnancy? Will it be easy or will he be terribly emotional? Or something else, I would really look at it. I also think that he would really not like that when he tried to eat his husband's food, and then he started to feel sick just from the smell. He would definitely look at his stomach with anger and disappointment "you. traitor". And he would absolutely ask Pigsy to hold his belly in the later months of pregnancy.

I also really wonder how they would behave with their daughter. I know they love her, but I'm sure they're absolutely scared and DON't know what to do. I just want to know what they're planning to do. Will they overprotect her because she is the rebirth of the most powerful being in all of heaven? Or will they hide it? Maybe they will ask for help from heaven?

referencing.

Hehehe! I'm glad you like it!

Tang was just so thirsty after being in the desert (I believe is meant to be the Gobi) that he just leaps into the first water source he can find. Pigsy yells after him but Tang's already gulped down the yucky muddy stream water before Pigsy reminds him that there's a water purifier in the TEA. By then, the remnants of the Mother-Child River had already begun the process.

After his body adapts to the major magically-induced change, Tang ends up using his condition to get out of work/to get pampered on. Emotionally he's ok, just a little more worried than usual. And Pigsy is such an adoring spouse that Tang's symptoms rarely go unattended. Lots of cuddles and tummy rubs in the later months.

Ankles swell: "Oh Piggy~ My feet hurt." Morning Sickness: "I need tea and kisses!" Cravings: (Tang: "I require oranges, bao buns, ramune soda, takoyaki sauce-" Pigsy: "How about I leave you inside the Speedy Panda with 500 yuan and I close my eyes while you go shop?" Tang: "I love you so much piggy.") Smells: "MK you stink. Take a shower or I will literally barf." Painful Kicking: "Cuddle time." >:3

And if the *cicada* part of the Golden Cicada is acting up; he gets into carving/whittling - cicadas etch tree bark to lay their eggs. Pigsy now has many tables in the restaurant defaced with Tang's "masterpieces".

And I absolutely hit Tang with what (he believes) is the worst symptom on Earth; Food aversion. Specifically towards NOODLE SOUP. His husband's own cooking! He's distraught! Something about the combination of broth and noodles makes his stomach turn! Broth and noodles separate? Ok. Together? Instant morning sickness. He suspects its something to do with the texture of the noodles when their soggy.

Wukong: "Maybe your brain thinks its worms." Tang: *turns green and retches*

Pigsy goes out of his way to prepare dishes for Tang that don't set off his nausea, even if it means altering his traditional methods.

Pigsy: "Ok, I've been experimenting with a new dish for a while and I want your opinion." Tang, delighted: "Ooo hoho! You know I'll always be your taste tester, Piggy." Pigsy: *presents the elements of his noodle recipe* Tang: "Huh?" Pigsy: "You seemed really sad to not eat noodle soup, so I made a dry version so that you can still enjoy the flavours. The broth is on the side so you can drink it. The guy from the somen restaurant gave me some pointers." Tang, getting emotional: "You... you changed your recipe for me!?" Pigsy, grabbing Tang's hands: "Our family recipe, Tangy. That includes you and our little critic." Tang: *bursts out sobbing and shovels the dry noodle fixings into his mouth*

The baby - "Bao/宝/treasure or bundle" (also bao buns were one of Pigsy's cooking Tang could eat) - ultimately looks similar to a baby orc from Dungeon Meshi. A mostly chubby human baby with pig features. She has a puff of Tang's dark hair that becomes little black stripes on her back like a wild piglet.

What the baby takes after Pigsy in appearance, she takes from Tang in greediness. Before she's even off milk she'll try taking bites of other people's food. She's bold and confident, hilarious to anyone seeing a tiny piglet chasing Celestial soldiers like she's her own army.

And of course theres the issue of Bao being the reincarnation of one of the oldest and most powerful deities in taoism...

Pigsy and Tang are def the overprotective types, not so much for Bao being a powerful baby, but because every immortal seems to forget that she's still an uber-fragile preemie. Her health wasn't great when she was born (worsened by the circumstances around the birth). The freenoodles parents atleast have experience raising the little chaos monkey that was MK - the only difference being that Bao can't climb so good. Though she does seem to have control over the weather for some reason.

The Celestial Realm has to catch on quickly that she isn't the Jade Emperor anymore - she gets kidnapped atleast once by Heaven's officials needing the Emperor to approve paperwork. Bao screamed and grunted, rampaging around the imperial Palace the whole time.

The Queen Mother is saddened but adoring - her husband truly has passed on, but this little angel is a wonderful new beginning for him. She hopes to reunite in a later life.

Demons in general are pretty hopeful of Bao''s existance. Now that the Jade Emperor has been reborn on one of their kind - perhaps demonkind will be elevated once more? They'll have to wait until she's out of diapers before they start placing bets.

Princess Iron Fan's immediate reaction (after dealing with the shock of losing her estranged father) is to burst out; "HAH!" at the irony. Her father disapproved of her marriage to the Demon Bull King for his race - only to be reborn as a pig demon! The coincidence is hilarious! The Demon Bull fam does visit the baby girl to send their blessings, and offer advice based on how chaotic little Red was as a calf. Bao adores her giant uncle Bull since he's fluffy and big and smells like her baba when he cooks. She also gets super attached to Red Son for similar reasons - though Tang suspects it's because she smells grilled meat on him.

MK adores Bao, and will kill everything in the three Realms if anything happened to her. Bao in turn loves her big bro - even if she bites him and steals his food.

[variousqueerthings]

a few things i appreciated about the much ado about nothing with dt and ct:

very much enjoyed that they both exhibit loser-behaviour. that is, there can be a risk in this play of making beatrice too right and benedick just someone who's gotta level up to deserve her, but this one really allowed both of them to be brilliant as well as stupid, which is fun because it makes both of them more complex and equal to one another + I think it's fun for an actress to be a little silly sometimes and this role really allows for it, and especially an actress like catherine tate to be familiarly hilarious, which makes the parts where she's deadly serious hit all the harder

I feel like with the doctor and donna, yes it's text that they're not sexually or romantically attracted to each other and I am so very into that of course, but I'm just so happy to see proof that they could shift their tension a little to the left and be pretty damn sizzling -- this especially because donna was a couple of years older than rose and martha and I sometimes feel like people who read romantic and/or sexual context into things do so because they're reading a conventional early-20s youthful sexiness to the female characters. so just having them go "we can be very very sexy with each other if we so desire" was fun

several people have pointed out david tennant in a skirt vs catherine tate in a suit, and i will do so as well, specifically because that was so veeeery t4t bisexuality of them, and i feel like there was a deliberate choice in the party scene to make the audience think about femininity and masculinity as it pertains to sexuality and power, specifically through the lens of these two characters and their equal status with one another. it means that when we get to the more direct confession at the failed wedding, when beatrice is wearing a plunging blue dress and benedick is in full uniform, that feels directly juxtaposed -- the costuming deserves its whole own analysis really, and i'm sure someone's done that, but specifically those two scenes make my brain go brrr

the way it moved from comedy to drama and back again so effortlessly. the way it placed emphasis on certain words in order to give sentences new meanings. simply the general feeling of very deep, deliberate engagement with the text

catherine tate's boobs. they did those costumes like that on purpose, you cannot convince me otherwise

[mbat]

i literally read the book of bill days ago but its only now kinda hitting me how fucked ford and bills whole thing was though cause ford literally talks about being so unable to sleep (to try to keep bill away), and when sleep inevitably caught up to him, he would wake up to his body abused and things messed with and he just couldnt seem to find an escape (and he literally didnt get to truly escape until 30 years later)

(also keeping people awake for unhealthily long periods of time is another tactic used to mess with and control people because of how it impairs brain function)

listing off the things we see in those few pages in the book of bill:

i mean, punching and scratching at a steel door for hours would be so damaging to your hands and probably hurt like hell for at least 2 days after. then bill says he was hitting fords head against a wall, though its said in a post-it as if its a joke, but he also isnt exactly above doing that, and honestly he says most things like its a joke.

i also dont need to say 'bill really doesnt know how to take no for an answer' because he makes that very clear in literally any interaction we see with him.

bill literally puts a venomous snake near ford while fords asleep, which could have killed him if he wasnt lucky+skilled enough to deal with it.

he nearly gives ford hypothermia, and in the same action actively threatens ford with the idea of making him jump off of a high spot, and like ford says, doesnt do it just so he can send a message to ford about how hes the one in control.

he gets ford in trouble with not only the law, but also with other people that are probably not very happy with him after. he mutilates fords body in several ways, and i dont think i need to go into detail on them because theyre... so ew. and he even exposes part of fords body to the world. like, its just taking his shirt off, but thats still showing off his body in a way that he didnt agree to or want

and then he attempts to (or purposefully fails to) call stan, using fords voice to threaten suicide and tell stan that ford never loved him.

and he punctuates it with a final power move, in a hallucination that he creates, hes messing with stans memories and making him feel like his body was basically about to implode

and like. okay, we all joke about toxic old man yaoi, and its a good joke and toxic old man yaoi is great and its an interesting ship, but holy fuck.

like. to say the absolute least, that had to be so, so deeply violating. its no wonder that when we see ford in the past, when he finally contacts stan, he looks like hes on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. he just went through, and still wasnt yet out of, some deeply abusive shit.

like... everything coming out lately both in this book and what ive heard is on the website, mixed with what we already knew from the show itself... the stans are both so, so fucking tragic dude. their whole lives were thrown away over things that really didnt even need to be the way they were, and then they both get into situations that are pretty damn screwed, and those situations follow them for the rest of their lives. its basically a miracle that things worked out in the end for them.

i dont really have a point, i just had to talk about all that. i read almost all of the book of bill in one sitting, and while i was really enjoying it, i was also getting kind of tired of sitting in one spot only doing this one thing for several hours straight. i still felt a lot of the emotional bits of it of course, but man this part specifically just really didnt hit me until now.

i mean, to say the absolute least, i know what its like to feel violated in a similar way, though not anywhere near to the extent of what he went through at all. someone get that man some therapy got damn

[wonton4rang]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pairing: bnd x reader.

warnings: none?

summary: bnd as charlie puth songs. broken heart/ broke up ver.

note: i might do a "in love" and "sex" (just the legal line ofc) version for this because i really vibe w charlie's songs and they really fit bnd's vibe for me !! pd. I just changed my phone and idk how to use it properly yet (literally changed it today) so im apologizing in advance if this looks odd 😔

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sungho; i don't think that i like her

i can physically hear his voice through the whole song, it's not a want is a need that i have to get a full cover by him. i just feel like the whole "i loved you and gave you all of me just to be let down, used and discarded because i'm not 'your type', but i still try cause i wanna love someone" vibe fits him way too much. he's so soft and loving, i feel like his heart might be broken often because he wants something serious and girlies just wanna fuck him :'(

riwoo; hero / dangerously

i feel like he would be so into you, looking for your true self, which you apparently only were when you were alone with him. the whole "don't pressure yourself so much, i'm here for you" and getting a "i don't need a hero, i don't want to be saved" situation fits him so much. you can tell he is kinda mad at you because of that but he forgets when you kiss him to sleep that same night. also, dangerously could fit him because i feel like he would give himself up to just focus on you instead and then end up broken because of it.

jaehyun; that's not how this works

regrettably i see jaehyun as a huge simp, this means that even though you guys are not dating or together anymore, he would let you come back over and over, enjoying your company but feeling so empty the next day when you say "i hate you so much, i gotta go", and what's funny is that you would hit him up and he'll be like "you know that's not how this works, y/n, please make up your mind" just to let you come over again.

taesan; smells like me / loser

okay hear me out i feel like taesan would be so cocky about a break up, hoping you never forget him because you broke his heart, but i also feel like he would be so sad about losing you and would put the blame on himself for letting you go. so "i hope your jacket smells like me" and "how'd i let her go?" would be the lines i find very likely to come out of his mouth or just him thinking like that.

leehan; that's hilarious

he would be so offended if you ever left him for someone else or cheated on him or just did some shit and then tried to comeback omg. he would literally go "are you being fr??" because there was no way you were trying to get things fixed after fucking him up like that. he would laugh at your face and call you a 'joke', asking you if your brain is working properly because ain't no way you think he would still want you after the things you put him through.

woonhak; cheating on you

he is definitely the type to fall in love once and for all to me. maybe is because he's young but he has this picky vibe that makes me feel like he would have a crush on someone specific, date you because he would never give you up, and honestly? it’s woonhak, who would say no? and when you two broke up he felt so empty and alone that his mind couldn't process it. he would obviously try to fill the blank only to notice that when he is with some other girl, he feels like he's cheating on you because for him it was always you, and only you.