#i genuinely don't feel like it will help me right now where i am in my life to talk about this shit with another person
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Mike johnson has so god damn much blood on his hands, obviously Ukrainian blood, but also plenty of American blood
Refusing to renew something that helps vets exposed to atomic blast and Americans who were downwind of the fall out... it's just sick. I can't fucking stand mike johnson, he's one of the worst scum to ever be in congress, and that's fucking saying something
"Johnson refused to allow House members to vote on bipartisan legislation to renew and improve the program"
Fucking quivering little pimple seems to have a real MO for just wringing his hands while insisting it's not his fault, he just can't do the one fucking part of his job of putting shit up to a vote... oh boo hoo, so sad, he'll just have to unilaterally let funding expire on things instead of literally just putting it up to our elected representatives to see if they want to vote yay or nay
Single handedly make the choices but it's not his fault when they work out how they do
Murderer
#I'm sorry; I both genuinely hate the man and will never forgive him; so seeing this just adds more fuel to that fire#and I'm also genuinely pissed to hear that we aren't gonna be bothering to fucking help out people we fucked over#it's fucking sick#listen; I try not to talk politics too much and I try not to tell people how to vote cause it's not really my business#and cause I don't like arguing with people on tumblr; waste of my time#but for all the dems many many many many many fucking flaws; it's shit like this that makes me hate the gop#every last line about sticking up for rural or poor people or whatever is such a fucking lie#god bless our troops... unless it would cost money to compensate them for making them stand near atomic detonations#at every turn I see fucking simple easy decent bipartisan policy shot down but fuckers like johnson; who is the gop at this point#fuck em; can't stand em#go fucking vote if you can in whatever country you're in; try and get a mail in ballot for your sake#I'm still not gonna tell you how to vote but uh... maybe keep in mind when someone's hands are fucking caked in blood#and keep in mind what kind of company people keep in their political party#fucking murder#cause inaction is murder as sure as if he stood their and kept them from getting treatment directly#removing the funding to let these people get cancers and stuff operated on#it's the same as murder#and again; that's not even going back to him personally; like literally it was just him and him alone#holding up aid to Ukraine for months because he refused to put it to the floor#where... oh look... once it was put to the floor it passed just fine (with a fucking tiktok ban added)#(hate that site but I hate government overreach with this kinda shit more)#one of the few people in this world I think I actually truly hate#I'm never gonna fucking stomach the 'he was so brave for holding a vote' shit lie#bullshit; if he had a spine or a soul he would have brought Ukraine aid to the floor before funding ran out#just like if he had a spine or a soul he'd have brought this radiation victim funding to the floor before it ran out#almost like there's a fucking pattern here of him squirming like a pus filled pimple simpering about how he just can't do his job#can't do the one fucking thing he's supposed to do and bring shit to the floor for a vote#I have more opinions on him; but if I said how I really feel right now I think it would get me put on a list#and... sadly just cause of who I am; if I were in a room alone with him I think I'd just lay into him instead of beating his ass#but he's a fucking monster and reading this story just now... I'm almost seeing red with how much it's pissing me off
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#This shouldn't be a surprise but seriously no one actually cares about my survival yes I've asked for help why would I get help#I'm functionally nocturnal and I keep staying up for like 48 hours and then sleeping for a day and I never know where I am#Or what day it is or if it's morning or night#Normal humans eat three meals a day and snacks right I think I maybe eat a snack every other day#I just don't feel hunger and my body hurts and cooking is so much effort I don't have#Weed used to help me be able to eat easily but now everything is just so hard and no food in house n cant go to store bc of ptsd too scary#I keep telling people when they ask that I am doing badly and need help but they as always just tell me to go to the store and buy food#Because it should be easy for a normal person!!! That would be such helpful and kind advice if I were normal#But I am not I am severely sick and traumatized and driving hurts so bad and stores give me panic attacks#Seriously if literally nobody cares about my struggling why not just be euthanized at this point?#This problem is so inconvenient to everyone and I have done all I can to convince people that I'm worth the inconvenience but :(#If I were worth talking to or visiting or helping people would have done that and I would be fine but I am not and that's okay#I genuinely don't mind being a husk at all#I'm just weirdly sad about it right now maybe because I think I feel hungry but genuinely I can't tell thanks autism#I also haven't been able to do my t shot in like three or four weeks I keep trying but I literally can't get the needle in :((#I imagine less testosterone in my system also makes me tired and lose my appetite#I'm so fucked up and nobody cares that I start my day at 8pm and am active and reply to emails and shit at 4am#Why would anyone notice that first of all but still. I would notice.#When even strangers are struggling I notice and I will do anything for anyone but it's selfish upon selfish to expect it back I understand#I keep looking for arfid and ed affirmations to help me but I can't find anything good#Genuinely . what the fuck#Just fucking need to be someone's dog feed me walk me put me in a cage teach me how to be better and treat me like I don't know shit#Because I don't I'm so stupid I can't even feed myself I'm dying please help me
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hmm. had an actual conversation with nightmare coworker today that seemed mutually productive. she apologized for saying some bullshit that hurt my feelings and i clarified that my intentions are to help not to undermine her, and we both agreed that there's no competition against each other and that it's the lack of growth in our role that's the problem. it was...productive.
and further cementing for me that it is time to begin making my Exit. i will be sending out my resume to a few places this weekend.
i'm still processing the conversation, and am struggling to place myself in where i am responsible to better my behavior. because i genuinely don't want to be an ass, even though i really don't like this lady and will jump for joy the day i never have to see her again. she stated that she knows my intentions aren't to hurt her, and that she thinks i'm very kind. i apologized for if my behavior came off as undermining her, and said that my intentions are only to better my own growth—and that i know she's trying to succeed too. i validated her feelings, and complemented the effort she is putting in.
where i'm struggling with is: am i in the wrong/causing harm and needing to change if the issue is that her feelings are incongruent with what she knows of my intentions? her feelings are her responsibility (WOW i almost typed "her feelings are my responsibility". i feel like that's a freudian slip) and she states that she knows i don't mean to hurt her. i'm going to try to be more clear in wording my intentions with her (she feels like me trying to take work off her plate is to undermine her. when really, i'm caught up and see her getting overwhelmed, and i want to help and also have something to do since i'm bored).
but i'm really struggling to look at my role in this and pass judgement on myself. i can and want to do better, and i don't think i did anything wrong, but i'm always so hesitant to say it's not my fault or i didn't do something bad. like i can't trust my judgement on that. my intentions were good, her bad feelings are ones caused by her insecurities, which she more or less has expressed to be aware that they are not true—the hurtful thing she said to me, she acknowledged was said out of hurt and not what she actually thinks. so, is it fair to say i'm not the bad guy? i'm not in the wrong? i know good intentions that still result in harm don't absolve anyone, but when the things that are clashing are insufficient communication and reactive insecurities... i'm not a monster, am i?
#well. i AM probably a monster for how much i dislike this lady#but i don't ACT on it#and i genuinely couldn't care less about her. i participate in decent human pleasantries because i am a decent human.#and at work we're stuck together#the thing that's irked me so much about this conversation is just.. her self centeredness#that she thinks everyone is out to get her. to undermine her. whatever.#bitch nobody cares about you enough one way or the other to put in that kind of effort. i sure don't#i empathize but i do not sympathize. to feel that pit that makes you feel like the worst kind of center of attention#i get it. but genuinely you are not the main character and no one is going to spend their limited time and energy to slowly attack you#you are not the cat with all the knives pointed at it#it's a terrible feeling to feel like you are! but when it influences your behavior to the point that you are making snide comments#to people who have no option not to interact with you then uh. then you're in the wrong buddy#and the people around you (who cannot easily leave! bc work!) should not have to bend over backwards to assure you#that they're not pointing knives at you. to protect themselves from your feelings making you say mean shit#like yes. i can be more clear with my intentions. i'm generally not the greatest at that. but my baseline that i want to#modify my behavior from is NOT one that a regular well adjusted person would take as anything but kind#and if a regular well adjusted person got a little offput by me volunteering to take work off their hands we would've had a very chill#3 sentence conversation about it MONTHS AGO.#i understand and respect (even if i find it annoying and overbearing) the need for me to announce my intentions like im working in a kitchen#and saying 'hot water' or 'knife' as i move around other people but we shouldn't have reached this conclusion this way#and frankly who's to fucking say me being more clear with my intentions will only feed the flames of her thinking i'm out to get her!#'i caught up on my stuff and your plate looks full. i'm bored. anything i can do to help?' could be a pointed knife for all i know!!#and if it is- and my actions still hurt her in that scenario- am i still responsible for the hurt caused??#like WHERE DOES IT FUCKING E N D ?#personal#*exhales* okay i feel better now#i just hate talking about my interactions with her bc i just want NOTHING to do with it. i want her out of my head!!#but until i process it i can't let go#and i'm still going to have to go over all of this with my shrink tomorrow#it just makes me mad how much of my time this bitch takes up. i'm not getting paid to think about work right now!!!!
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worries
#i'm real worried that i'm gonna be dropped from therapy bc of the insurance#but also#i don't actually want to go through therapy rn i think#it all feels too raw still#like a cake where the outer layer is done but it's still all liquid in the middle#i feel like i need to heal on my own more before i actually talk about it all#or i just rip open and all of it flows out against my will#and it'll leave me worse off#i genuinely don't feel like it will help me right now where i am in my life to talk about this shit with another person#only make things worse#but i need therapy to get hrt#and i can't very well tell my therapist that i'm not gonna answer her questions about my dad or my family or why i said i haven't#felt weightless since i was eleven years old#i don't know#i thought therapy would help but i'm getting more and more unsure#then again i have no idea if i'm not just self sabotaging#journal eb
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Me, You, and Baby, Too
Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.
Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant
A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen
There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:
“Good.”
“Fine.”
“Long.”
“My knees are killin’ me.”
“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.”
“Better now that I’m home with you.”
So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone.
“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you.
“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.”
You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock.
Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.
Not floor plans.
Not timelines for the project.
Not something stupid that Tommy did.
Not even what he had done today on the job.
The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby.
You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it.
But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day.
You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.
But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too.
“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him.
“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.”
“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass.
“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.”
You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby.
“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest.
“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke.
“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out.
Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.
“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin.
“I want one.”
You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said.
“W-what?”
“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.”
If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.
An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality.
“Joel… Really?”
“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-”
Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear.
You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin.
“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?”
“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.
“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?”
“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.”
Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness.
Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs.
You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans.
He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby.
“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?”
Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.
“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants.
“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?”
“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs.
“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.”
With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only-
To get you pregnant.
Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic.
You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm.
“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line.
With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami.
As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good.
Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop.
Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way.
As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms.
Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted.
“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.”
You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache.
Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you.
“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for.
“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck.
With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix.
Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core.
“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in.
“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting.
Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips.
“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give.
Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again.
“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly.
Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth.
“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible.
“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-”
Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body.
While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you.
“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!”
With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste.
He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath.
Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you.
Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him.
“Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs.
“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter.
“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin.
“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer.
“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter.
“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too, Joel.”
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin.
“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.”
“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes.
“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.”
“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting.
“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."
Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)
@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24
@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85
@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo
@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise
@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled
@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog
@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr
@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild
@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog
@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs
#pedro pascal#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller tlou#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller imagine#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character#joel miller angst#joel miller the last of us#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#joel miller pedro pascal
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"you, specifically, are a bad and evil person that all my posts are written to condemn" this is not what i said. i'm sorry for not being clearer. i just feel like everyone in this space, not just you, look down on people who live in the first world as people who willingly don't change anything about how the world works when it's just not that simple. i know you all love to combat this and say otherwise but it will never change the simple reality that for some people it really is very hard, if not impossible, to do anything politically, for a variety of reasons. i'm disabled, i live in a remote part of the country, and i'm bad at talking to people. i don't have the money to just move to a population center or get lessons on how to speak to people. i can't do anything and i feel like every time you or one of the other communists on tumblr talks about the imperial core, i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to, if i were in one of your situations. obviously i want things to change. i don't want genocide to be a thing that's constantly happening, i don't want my country to have its tendrils dug into every other country, i want socialism and eventually global communism, and if i could do anything meaningful-- anything at all-- to achieve those goals i would be working on that. but right now that just is not the case for me, and i feel like i'm not alone in that either. i just wish you had like a smidgen of empathy for some of the people living here who don't fit into your stereotype of what a member of the imperial core looks like-- i'm not even trying to say that sarcastically, it genuinely feels like you all don't see us as human. like nyanguard especially seems to think of us as incapable of saving ourselves, and one of the reblogs to my first ask just said they "like to imagine that (i'm) crying as i type this". how am i supposed to react to that? is this how all of you feel about people like me? would your feelings about me change if i lived in another country, or would you find some other excuse to talk down to me? is it really just the country i live in that's the problem, here? i'm not trying to accuse you, i'm asking this question genuinely.
i know it's tempting to respond to this with a snarky comment but please just try to understand where i am coming from. i really am willing to help if i can.
i don't think any marxist seriously has a political theory of imperialism that amounts to "citizens of the imperial core simply choose not to do anything because they are all individually bad people". i mean the whole point of marxism is that economic relations are the ultimate drivers of historical change, not abstract psychological or moral qualities of people.
i'm sympathetic to your situation! the imperial core is a very atomizing place to live, and there are places and situations where there's just no practical path to getting organized and taking meaningful political action in the near future. however, your problem here is:
i feel like i, personally, am being held to an unreasonable standard that i would not hold anyone else to
nobody is posting about you, personally. like at the end of the day you have to learn to either not take posts like that personally or just block everyone who makes them to manage your own time on the computer vis a vis niceness--i don't think it's the responsibility of me or any other communist to constantly provide asterisks and carveouts that we're not talking about the Good Ones Who Have Extenuating Circumstances when we talk about the usa and its material political base.
& in the same way that you ask for empathy for your situation i would ask you to extend a level of understanding to people whose homelands and countrymen and communities have been devastated by US coups and sanctions and invasions, that they have as much a right to express the rage and fury and hurt of that cultural legacy as you do to express your own sadness about your own situation. imagine, for example, how you would feel if your grandparents could not reliably get medicine because of us sanctions. & of course the correct target for these feelings are not random usamericans--but these posts are also not serious politcal platforms, they are venting from people who live their lives under the weight of empire.
if you think what they're saying is unfair to you, then you need to develop the ability to say 'well, i understand why they would feel that way' and move on. like i understand why you are upset, and i don't say this to be dismissive, but as real advice: it is not fair (especially to bloggers from the global south) to essentially rest your happiness and self-worth at their feet and demand that they validate you.
genuinely, i hope this helps. it's all i really have to say on the matter.
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Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”
Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D
Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3
ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!
PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)
PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader
ᴡᴄ: 4194 words
ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.
☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽
A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.
You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.
However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.
Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!
You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.
“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.
You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.
“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.
“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”
So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.
You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”
The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”
Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.
You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”
A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.
“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”
It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.
“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.
Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.
His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.
“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”
Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.
And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.
The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?
“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay.
“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?”
Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.
The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look.
Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.
The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.
“Could that be it?”
A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.
“I assume that could be it-”
“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”
Immediately, his attention is back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”
A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”
You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”
His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”
Again, you shook your head.
“Lower.”
He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.
“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”
Click - the trap was snapping shut.
It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”
Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?
“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”
“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.
“I dunno…wet?”
His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!
“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”
He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”
Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.
“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”
Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!
“Oh! And…how does that work?”
Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.
“I-”
“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.
“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”
You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.
“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.
The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?”
Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds.
“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further.
“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”
The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.
He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.
His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?
“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.
His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.
He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.
Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.
You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.
It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.
You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.
“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”
Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.
“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.
The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.
Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?
You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”
A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.
His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.
“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.
Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.
Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.
The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.
The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.
“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.
You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.
As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.
You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.
“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“
He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.
The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.
His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.
He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.
Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.
Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.
Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.
“I am glad I was able to help.”
Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?
“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”
Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap
#sdv#stardew valley#stardew valley fanfic#stardew valley farmer#stardew valley smut#sdv fanfic#fanfic#smut#sdv harvey#sdv harvey x reader#sdv harvey x farmer#stardew valley harvey#stardew valley x reader#stardew valley x farmer#harvey x farmer
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So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.
i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.
So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.
One: Remove Barriers
a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.
For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.
I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.
two: secondary entertainment
like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.
i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--
No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.
i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.
Three: Find Other Motivators
Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"
Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.
(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)
Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".
And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!
Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss
I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).
The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.
Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:
How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?
Am I sleeping better?
Is my balance improving?
Is my stamina increasing?
Am I becoming more flexible?
Can I lift/carry heavier weights?
Is my breath control improving?
Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.
#fitness#exercise#fatphobia#there are definitely other tips i could give#but these i think are the ones that helped *me* the most
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Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.
His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.
But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.
It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.
Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.
It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.
He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.
But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.
He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.
"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"
"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."
They laugh, quickly moving on.
After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.
He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.
They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.
"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."
"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."
"It's ugly."
"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."
"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."
"No, it's not. It's special to me."
"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"
"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."
"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."
"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."
"If- what?"
"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"
"You've lost me."
Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.
"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"
"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"
"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."
Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"
"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."
"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."
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Bully! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Blowjob. Bullying. Degradation. Consent is clearly written.
I meant to have this written last night, but I got high and went and zoned out on Star Rail and lost track of time 😭 I am battling a little bit of writers block, so I am sorry that this sucks.
You didn't know how things had snowballed like this. The books and papers in your arms were scattered all over your the ground, and you were on your knees in front of your bully in an empty classroom.
Scaramouche thought there was an interesting look in your eyes. It was a look determined to stand up to him despite the position that you were in. And yet you looked so weak with frustrated tears in your eyes.
He reached down to graze his finger tips across your cheek. Before you knew it was happening, your body betrayed you. You turned your cheek into his hand. The action made you abruptly realize, and not for the first time that you were in love with your bully.
There was no way you'd ever admit such a thing to Scaramouche. At first, you'd cried a lot from Scaramouche's bullying, avoiding him as much as you could. But lately, encounters with him left you almost embarrassingly wet.
You spent more than a few nights fingering yourself, think about him bullying and being rough with you while your fingers skated feverishly on your throbbing clit. Stifling moans of his name behind your hand.
When did his bullying start to make you feel so good?
Scaramouche smirked seeing your reaction. "Poor thing, so touch starved it's pathetic," He cooed condescendingly, his hand lingering on your cheek. He tilted your head up to make you look at him. "But you don't want just any touch. You want mine, don't you?"
Your eyes widened, a few tears falling from your cheeks. "Aww, I saw right through you, and it hurt, didn't it?" He skimmed a thumb over a tear. "Admit it," He petted a hand through your hair, delighting when you relaxed visibly into his touches. "Admit it, and you'll better."
Your lower lip trembled a little. "Fine, okay. It's true, is that what you wanted to hear?" His cock couldn't help but throb seeing how much it dented your pride to admit it. He'd didn't think you'd ever done something genuine for yourself in your life. There was such a fierce honesty in your eyes.
He was quiet for a moment, and you thought he was just going to let you go now. How wrong you were when you heard him chuckle. Scaramouche was not a merciful guy. You knew this first hand.
His hand cupped your cheek again, a shiver rippling through him as you submissively turned your cheek into his hand again. Did you have any idea what you always did to him? How much he wanted to tame that mouth of yours when you tried to stand up to him?
How in love you'd made him fall for you.
"Tell me, kitten, what do you think about at night when you touch yourself?" You looked up at him incredulously. He just never stops! All he does poke, poke, poke!
It was obvious Scaramouche had no shame in what he said. He had, after all been listening outside your dorm door, his eyes nervously darting around as he palmed and stroked his cock outside his shorts, praying no one would walk down the hall and see him.
His cock hardened more when you nuzzled your cheek against his hip. You were quiet, debating whether to deny it. But you knew you couldn't. Scaramouche always saw right through you. "You. I think about you," You admitted, not being able to bring yourself to look up at him.
"Good girl," He petted your hair again, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it? I knew your hair color isn't indicative of your IQ. Sometimes it shows, though."
You felt the blush on your cheeks darken. He'd praised you in one breath, and insulted you in the next in a condescending way. The way he did it only made you feel wetter. You couldn't help how far you'd sunk to the bottom.
Scaramouche knew he had you right where he wanted you. You were submissive putty in his hands. "Go on then," He folded his hand in your hair, moving your mouth towards his straining cock. "Indulge me in what you think about. Do something for yourself and indulge yourself for once. Or is that too hard for a good girl like you?"
You couldn't deny it. You wanted to take his cock out and suck him off. Wanted him to use your throat to get off. You squeezed your thighs together, shaky fingers reaching up to unbutton his shorts. He grunted softly as you wrapped your hand around his cock once it was free.
Your tongue swept out to slowly kitten lick his cock, feeling it pulse on your tongue. Scaramouche let out a shaky sigh, surprised that you didn't bite a comment at him. His hand tightened in your hair as your prodded the tip of your tongue in the slit, playing it in his precum.
You scooped the head of his cock into your mouth suck on. Scaramouche's hand tightened in your hair, holding your head still so he could push the rest of his cock into your mouth. Your mouth clutched warm and wet on his cock as you started sucking.
"What an obedient little slut," He moaned, thrusting into your mouth. You coughed, gagging as his cock pushed into your throat. "Fuck, you really will make the perfect pet whore for me," Your throat felt divine spasming on his cock.
He bobbed your head up and down on his cock, his knees feeling weak from how submissively you let him control your pace. His degradation made your clit throb, your panties soaking and clinging to your clit.
Scaramouche laughed shakily seeing the adoring look in your teary eyes. He rewarded such a look by making you choke on his cock again. Drool pooled from your mouth as you coughed, your hand reaching under your skirt to push your panties aside.
You struggled to moan as you grinded your throbbing clit on your fingers, eagerly flattening your tongue on the vein that buldged up in his cock. You were thoroughly enjoying your bully using your throat like a flesh light.
"I'll keep you by side," He pulled your hair, holding your head still as he relentlessly pumped his cock in and out of your mouth. "My pretty pet slut deserves a collar," Your eyes lit up hearing his words, vibrating a moan on his cock.
"Fuck, I'm cumming," He mumbled, his grip loosened on your hair as cum ribboned salty into your mouth. "You are all mine now."
#genshin impact#genshin smut#fem!reader#genshin imagines#modern au#scaramouche#scaramouche smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x y/n#scaramouche x you#tw bullying
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Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!
This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."
His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.
This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying
"WE NEED HELP."
Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:
Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."
"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."
After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.
"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.
"Like the old times, only even NICER!"
The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?
Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.
After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.
He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
"You idiot. We could have been us."
Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.
OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS
Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:
Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.
Having seen all that, my best guess now is:
Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.
Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.
Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.
Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."
"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.
Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.
Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.
Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.
This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.
My heart hurts, ow.
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Wait, is Jason in Gotham Knights body horror? Because it doesn't feel like his body even tho he's controlling it? (He died, he came back, it's not the same and never will be)
Or is it more analogous to puberty and feeling like you don't know anything about your body anymore?
Just having thoughts about that boy again
I think Jason in Gotham Knights is very much connected with his physical body. It's his biggest weapon, possibly more so than his guns, given his lasting connection to the Lazarus Pit and the power it gives him.
His backstory talks about building himself up to peak physical condition into the absolute unit he is now, and you can either see that as someone trying to reconnect with their physical self or someone vowing never to be small or weak again.
I tend to think of it as both. It's a reclamation of his physical form but also a transformation into something bigger and stronger that ensures he's the scariest, meanest-looking mother fucker in the room. Basically someone you can't underestimate as a threat.
(Try not to think too hard about the fact that he now largely resembles Bruce in stature, that he is now the group's heavy hitter, the most menacing and the most likely to strike fear into the heart of his opponents, and that Jason molded himself into the person he needed to be rescued by as a child. Don't do it. Do not. I am normal about this.)
But he obviously struggles with feeling present mentally sometimes.
You'll see him zoning out occasionally, touching the J-shaped scar on his face before violently shaking himself back into the present.
He has panic attacks while playing a dance video game with a coffin in it—a coffin his character becomes trapped in because he's not moving fast enough. (hello, trauma)
He's angry all the time and so relieved when Barbra expresses her own rage at something because, yes, finally, someone else is letting their emotions out instead of bottling it up (Dick).
His emails are littered with orders for self-help books, emails from his therapist moving his sessions around, and concerned messages from his friends (Roy comes to mind) saying if he needs to get out of Gotham, they'll make it happen.
Alfred holding him while he sobs over losing Bruce still breaks me every time. I have to pause the game and walk around my house until I feel normal again.
And then there's the cut scene where Dick asks, "Hey, remember that time we all [insert funny thing here]," and Jason admits, somewhat angrily, that no, he doesn't because Lazarus took entire swaths of memories from him and he hates how he can't connect with people the way he used to and he hates the way they all look at him (the way Dick is looking at him now) when he admits he doesn't remember something they clearly loved about the old him: the version of him who didn't have volatile mood swings or made people flinch when he did something as mundane as handle a kitchen knife -- the undead monster he came back as*.
The fact that Dick then contrives to recreate this memory so Jason can be included in a newer version of it -- while also giving him what is arguably a weapon -- fucks me up every time. Dick just yeets a kitchen knife at him, trusting that Jason will catch it, and then just steamrolls over Jason's rightful 'what the fuck' expression with "Hey, we're making food. Get dicing."
And Jason knows what they're all doing. He's aware of it, and he gets the teeniest, tiniest smile before smothering it out. Except he can't quite. He's still smiling as he chops the vegetables. And yes, they're all hopeless at cooking compared to him, and he knows he's going to end up taking over, but that's okay. Because this is for him. He gets to control it.
And that's how Jason gets to make a new memory, one where he is handed a weapon and gets to turn it into a genuine expression of nurturing and care.
Because he does care about them. He wouldn't conspire with Dick to bake Barbara's favorite childhood cookies if he didn't. He wouldn't try so hard to be gentle with Tim triggering the shit out of him while he's struggling with his grief. He just doesn't always know how to express it because he doesn't always know what he's feeling.
Is his anger valid? Or is this Lazarus Pit Rage? Is he being overly sensitive because of his trauma, or is everyone else underreacting because of their trauma? (Should he sign them all up for therapy, quite probably, yes.)
So, you could perhaps argue that Jason experiences body horror in the sense that he doesn't remember all the pieces of who he used to be. (Speaking as someone with severe memory loss from medical trauma, it's certainly a type of horror.) But I don't think it's because he's detached from it physically or doesn't feel in control of his body. I think it's his mind that worries him.
His body he can control. It's his mind that still sparks green sometimes.
---
*Re the scene with Tim when Tim calls the Talons monsters. "What about me? Do you think I'm a monster?"
No, they don't.
But Jason does. And it scares him shitless.
#gotham knights#gotham knights game#jason todd#red hood#gotham knights my beloved#anyone complains they made him ugly I'm releasing the hounds#Jason Todd Gotham Knights defense squad
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CHASE ; MV1
max verstappen x streamer!reader
. . . you find yourself in a predicament between max's request and your conscience, so you ask charles for help in your game of chase with max verstappen
amgf mention of dnf and written portion in at the end. i am capitalizing on the ausgp, which is the same for wyh hahaha
previous: what if we met?
next: call me max verstappen
This was the first race you watched live in a long time. Charles tried to invite you multiple times, the last time you watched was during his debut back in 2018.
You could barely remember the difference then and now, sitting in the Ferrari garage with other members of the team you situate yourself in the corner, not really knowing what to do.
It was more chaotic than you remember, seeing Max especially going to the pit lane, his wheel burning, leaving a trail of smoke for every garage to see. It alarmed you a little bit, but hearing his voice through the radio, calmed you down.
You meet his gaze as he walks by the Ferrari garage, probably on the way back to their motorhome, or the media pen. Charles gave you a tour of the track at the start of the weekend, but you still find yourself getting lost in the middle of Albert Park.
You flash him a small smile, followed by a wave which he returned. He must be not in the mood to talk, knowing the situation that happened, it caused them the gap to tighten between drivers.
As Charles' friend it definitely filled you with hope knowing that he might have a chance to pull some points to get ahead of the championship ranks.
But as someone who recently knew more about Max, it was definitely an unfortunate moment for him. You watch the screen as they interview Max regarding what happened with his car.
You stare at the screen, fully realizing then that this is the first time you two met outside the shared video games you played together.
As much as you tried to keep your cool alongside Charles' insistent teasing, you admit that you're nervous forming a conversation with him.
Just like after the second practice session, they planned to eat dinner together. Obviously you came with Charles, but what you didn't expect was for Max to be there as well. And safe to say it wasn't the same as your conversations online.
You remember Charles recalling your conversation with him word for word the whole night, teasing your awkwardness.
And in his words, he thinks, "it's cute that you're both awkward together, like two little nerds catching feelings for each other"
How appalling. And the day before the race when you bumped into Max, who happily helped you on your way back to the Ferrari motorhome. Which led to even more incessant teasing from Charles, you don't understand how Max keeps his cool whenever Charles keeps making fun not just of you but of him as well.
Maybe he's more used to Charles, they did race each other for a long time. But that's a story for another time, it's the first time you saw both of them and it seems like the fans are right when they say they sense chemistry between those two.
Your phone pings, receiving a message from Max.
Max the Builder: You want to go out on a little walk for a while?
YN: Where are you?
Max the Builder: I'll meet you at the back of the Ferrari garage.
You look around, everyone's eyes are glued to the screen watching Carlos and Charles closely. Glancing back and forth to the screens on the garage and your phone, you make your way behind the exit, where Max stood waiting for you.
"Have you been waiting for a while?" You watch Max jump, catching him off guard as he whips his head in your direction.
"I just got out of interviews, I'm free for the rest of the race. Want to spend it with me?" There he goes again asking you those questions, you know he speaks out of malice, but his genuine expression makes it hard to say no to him.
Before you could reply, you feel that Max has sensed your hesitance, thinking where he got things wrong again, immediately cutting off your reply. "But if you want to watch Charles we can do that as well. Or you just don't want to hang out with me?"
A soft gasp left your lips, quickly shaking your head left and right, "Max, you know that's not true. But I guess you could say I was avoiding you for the last day..."
Max tilts his head before nodding slowly, trying to hide the evident disappointment in his face, "So that wasn't me just overthinking it... You were purposefully avoiding me?"
"Not like that Max, I guess I was just overthinking as well. We've only talked online until now. I guess I got intimidated seeing you in real life, because we're not on Minecraft? Maybe I just got used to that, hence I kept avoiding you."
Max thinks in silence before raising his finger, "If you're uncomfortable talking at the moment we can play Minecraft and talk there?"
His suggestion catches you off guard, "What? No, we don't have to play Minecraft just to talk silly. That is a good idea Max, but I think we just need more conversations outside discord. My name is YN LN, nice to meet you." Extending your hand in front of him, which he happily shook back.
"Hello YN, I am Max Verstappen. I guess now I won't have to chase after you yeah?"
You laugh, shaking your head disagreeing, "You can't just tease me immediately Max, then I'll have to run away again."
Max shrugs putting his hands in his pocket, feeling more comfortable and finding the flow in your conversations, just like you did back on Discord.
"Well, run all you want, I'll have to let you know— I'm known for being fast."
You nod your head playing along, it's seems like the grooves have connected, like gears shifting in connection. "Well, your engine seems to disagree."
You watch Max' face freeze, "Too early?" your thoughts buzz around, thinking how you messed up the conversation in less than a minute.
A record breaking time.
But your worries halt hearing the sound of Max' laughing at your statement. "That's a good one YN, you're catching up quick."
This time it was your turn to shrug your shoulders, "What can I say, I learned from the best." bumping your shoulders into him.
You walk with Max as the race comes to a close, feeling confident and content as your friendship with him grows.
amgf i think there's one final chapter, the twitch stream hahahaha max is getting desperate but i would too
amgf ★ superstars: @namgification @lpab @the-untamed-soul @xjval
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Why don't you take a seat, love?
I can see you're packing, your bulge has been straining at the fly of your jeans all night. Just sit back and let me make you feel good.
Grab that dining chair, the good strong one with the firm back. Let me slip those jeans down for you while you sit down.
Fuck, I don't know where to look. Your thighs. Your cock. Your eyes. You're perfect.
Before I know what I'm doing I'm on my knees, shamelessly desperate to take your cock in my mouth. Fuck. Your fingers grasping at my hair with one hand, clawing at my shoulder with the other. I'm obsessed.
You're issuing firm but gentle instructions, "You can take more than that", "Slow down, give me those pretty little moans", "My good girl, you know this is what you're for" - getting you worked up, feeling the more assertive side of you step forward.
Knowing how hard you are for me, feeling how wet I am for you, we both need more.
I pull myself up, unbuttoning your shirt as I do, planting a line of kisses behind each button, up the gentle softness of your stomach, those genuinely jaw-dropping tits, finally finding your lips, until I'm standing over you, legs either side of your thighs.
I let you untie the neckline of my pretty cotton dress, right at your eyeline, freeing my chest as the ribbons drop to the floor. When your mouth finds my nipples, already firm and sensitive, I can't help but whimper.
"Fuck. That feels so good. Your tongue feels so good."
Your hands slip up under my dress, to my hips, expecting to find underwear to rip off. I'm way ahead of you. I feel you shiver and tense at the realisation that there's nothing between the head of your cock and my dripping wet cunt. Your fingers dig into my hips and I hope you're gonna leave bruises.
You pull me down onto your cock and fuck, you fill me up so well. This is Everything. You're setting the pace as I roll my hips, making sure the base of your cock hits your clit with every thrust.
You know it doesn't take a lot for me to come like this. You want it, don't you? You want to feel me come undone for you, flood your lap, scream your name. But I can hold out. Hold out until you're close too, your chest flushed, your lips barely able to return my kisses.
Then, looking into your eyes - those eyes that pierce my soul, make me feel by turns safe and secure, and desperately desired - I start to beg.
"Please...please baby, let me come. I'm so close. Please. I'll be so good for you. I'll do anything. Please. I need you. Please."
In response and without warning, you sink your teeth into my shoulder - the sudden shock of pain tipping me over the edge, I couldn't hold back now if I tried.
As the pleasure rips through my body, I realise it's hit you too. The way you tremble and buck wildly into me knocks me straight into a second and I'm screaming your name again and again.
Feeling you come inside me is completely exquisitely perfect. You feel incredible and I can ride it out as long as you can. Do you want more?
#dykeposting#sapphic#lesbian nsft#wlw nsft#sapphic nsft#wlw yearning#my posts#butch bait#femme4butch
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Hii!
Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.
And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.
Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!
Guard Dog
Pairing: Max x Reader
Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit
TW: verbal abuse
A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3
requests open masterlist
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"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.
"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.
"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.
"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.
"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.
"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.
"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.
"I-"
"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.
"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.
"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.
The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.
"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.
"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.
"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.
"Love you, Maxie"
"Love you too, Schatje,"
#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen#i hate jos verstappen
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I feel so resolved right now bc I've been getting a little frustrated with the Instagram reels I've been seeing that's mostly het women complaining about how their husbands don't share the mental load of housework - which is absolutely justified, ofc. everyone needs to partake in taking care of the home as close to equally as is reasonable.
the thing is this mostly takes the form of people making fun of how their husbands say things like "Yeah sure I'll share the load :) Just make me a list!:) just tell me what to do! :)" when that's kind of defeating the purpose -- if your partner's making lists of chores for you, you're still basically offloading a ton of mental effort onto them, which doesn't actually help the problem.
however I know from experience that I am that husband lol. and I'm sure a lot of these men are just kind of inconsiderate, but from my perspective as a disabled neurodivergent person, I reflexively try to offload things like Making Lists or Asking To Be Told What To Do onto my (overstressed, often panicking) partner because I'm scared that if I make decisions about what I need to do, I'll focus on something my partner didn't even have on their radar and waste all my energy "fixing" something which they didn't consider broken, leaving me with nothing to help solve the problems they actually care about.
I'm not trying to be a dick or deliberately being lazy, I just need to know what's bothering them the most so I can start there instead of starting on a random side quest that doesn't matter to either of us. considering how many of these people I've run into are in nd4nd relationships, I'm pretty sure I can't be the only "inconsiderate husband" out there who's having this feeling, and it's a little frustrating to see it being completely attributed to a moral failing and not, like, a possible symptom of their partner's own mental health issues. (like we definitely can't pretend like misogyny never plays a part in the Just Make Me A List type of behavior, but I know relatively certainly that is not where it's originating from in my own personal relationship, and I'm not that unique)
just when I was about to just make a kind of grumpy post about this problem and offer absolutely no solutions, I fuckin run into a reel where someone actually tells people how to bridge the gap between offloading mental effort and actually knowing what your partner wants you to do- literally just. offer a couple of observations to them instead of hoping they'll do everything for you. ie - instead of "just tell me what to do!!", say "I see the dishes have to be done and the trash has to be taken out, so I was gonna do the dishes then take out the trash, unless there was something else that needs my focus first". this tells your partner that you are taking on some of the mental burden, but still offers them the opportunity to point you in the right direction if you're WAY off.
it just makes so much fucking sense and I never would've thought of doing that on my own. genuinely an extremely useful video to just algorithmically be provided to me. it's actionable advice instead of just telling people "share the loaaaddd" without providing the scaffolding someone needs to do that when theyre unused to it (whether that be due to neurodivergency or growing up as a guy in a misogynistic society).
and its just like. God damn it. this is bullshit. I can't believe the stupid camera app is helping me in real ways. maybe the mental health gurus and internet therapists have a goddamn point sometimes. fucking hell
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