#the show is y'know. REALLY GOOD. But not THAT good jesus christ

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Steven Universe.. hit different and I don’t really understand why? Thinking about any of my other old hypefixations, I smile. But Steven Universe just makes me a deeply uncomfortable kind of sad that latches onto my brain like a leech and doesn’t let go for many hours. And I have no idea what it did to deserve that lmao

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet, part II

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: Joel gives you a few more lessons and a few more feelings start to surface. (Picks up right where part one left off so I recommend reading that first!)

Warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, ungodly amount of pet names, unprotected sex, virginity loss (it's the real deal this time), he's back and more annoying than ever but still just as sweet, disgustingly fluffy at times, reader has hair he can run his fingers through but no other physical descriptions, no use of y/n

w/c: ......10.5k I am so sorry

a/n: It's here! I kept changing my mind with how I wanted this to go so hopefully I landed on something good. I'm absolutely still blown away by the amount of love and support you guys gave on part one :'))) you are all incredible. Hoping and praying this one lives up to everyone's expectations

Part One

my masterlist

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense  is betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you.  "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me." "The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to." "Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.” "That's some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Getting on your knees for Joel Miller wasn’t exactly on your agenda for today. 

Not that you’re really complaining. 

He doesn’t look bad from this angle, you have to admit.  His chest looks broader from where you are on your knees in front of him, if that’s even possible. His hair is messy and tousled from where your fingers pulled and tugged with a pretty red flush spreading down his neck and chest, and the soft curve of his belly looking positively sinful. 

“First lesson is how to take a man’s pants off,” Joel starts. “Think you can handle that? Or do you need a demonstration first?” 

You scowl up at him, his words pulling you out of your transfixation on his body. 

“Shut up,” you hiss. “I can take your pants off.” 

He grins and raises an eyebrow. 

“Yeah? Go on then. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but take a steadying breath, trying your best to calm your pounding pulse and trembling fingers as you reach up for his belt buckle. The metallic jingle has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you make quick work of the rest, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans until they’re hanging open in front of you.

You stop for a moment and glance up at him. He’s looking down at you, a soft encouraging smile playing on his lips. 

“S’okay, baby. Keep goin’,” he murmurs, nodding his head once. 

You give him a small nod and a tight swallow around the lump in your throat, dropping your gaze back to the task at hand. Gently, gingerly, you hook your fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down simultaneously. 

A tiny, barely audible gasp escapes you when his cock springs free and bobs heavily in front of you. 

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, too stunned to stop the words from slipping out. 

“Just Joel if fine, actually.” 

You barely even register his jab and you definitely don’t have the bandwidth to come up with any kind of witty comeback right now, your mind too busy processing the sight before you. Sure, you’ve seen plenty of dicks before, the internet can be a magical place. But this, in person, up close and so real, is an entirely new experience. 

He's big, thick, heavy, and long with a slight upward curve. The tip is flushed a deep pink, shiny with smeared precome with more beading at the slit. A few thin veins run from his base to his tip up the length in a twisting pattern, the dark hair at his base neatly trimmed. And he’s hard, so much so that it looks nearly painful and your stomach flutters know that you're the one who did that to him.

"You can touch it, y'know." Joel says softly after a few moments of silence. "It ain't gonna bite."

"Oh my god" you groan, bringing up a hand to scrub down your face as he pulls you out of your awe. 

"Again, just Joel is fine."

He laughs proudly at his own joke and you drop your hands in your lap and stare up at him in disbelief. 

"Oh c'mon! You walked right into that one, no need to get all-"

He cuts himself off with a hiss, the air escaping between his teeth and his head falling back as your hand wraps around him, squeezing just a little too tight to be pleasant. He staggers half a step backward, hips jerking away from your grip.

"You were saying?'' you ask sweetly, grinning up at him.

"Fuckin' christ, woman. You're tryin' to get me off not break it off"

You loosen your grip a little but keep your hand still and look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for further instruction. It's not that you don't know what to do, you just don't know how to do it well. How to do it for him.

You want to do well for him.

The realization should alarm you, scare you even. But you find it only spurs you on, only makes the want burning inside of you even more potent and pressing. You want to make him moan, gasp, make his body writhe beneath your touch. You want him to be breathless, shivering, and panting with pleasure. You want to make him come undone, just like you did for him.

"Okay" he starts, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "Lesson two is learning what he likes. Everyone's a lil different, but the basics are the same."

The nerves in your gut twist almost painfully, the anxiety of it all getting you half a second away from tapping out. 

But your decision is set in stone when he drops his hand to yours where it’s wrapped around him, giving a light squeeze before he starts to gently guide your movements. 

"Start slow,” he starts, a light strain tainting the edges of his voice. “Nice and gentle. Wanna work up to it."

You nod and watch, focused intently as if you were actually a student in class as the head of his cock disappears and reappears in your fist. His hand covers yours nearly entirely as he drags it up and down while you try and memorize where he squeezes a little tighter, when he swipes his thumb over the head. 

“Can give a little twist at the top,” he murmurs, voice low as he demonstrates what he means. “There you go, baby. Just like that,” he sighs when you do the same. 

Once satisfied, he removes his hand, letting you take control. You continue to pump him, trying to replicate the movements he just showed you. His cock is a warm, heavy weight in your hand, twitching and pulsing every now and then when you twist your wrist just right or swipe your thumb over his head like he showed you, collecting and spreading his precome to ease your strokes. 

Your confidence builds with each stroke and soon enough you start to experiment with your pace, switching between faster and slower. He gently rocks his hips in time with your hand, unable to resist thrusting forward just slightly.

The fire inside you burns even hotter at the shaky breath that he lets out above you, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire before settling low in your belly, your core aching and pulsing with it. 

"This good?" you ask concerned, your voice barely above a whisper. 

He lets out a breathless chuckle and looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"Yeah, honey. Real good," he rasps, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You match his smile, biting your lip and basking in his praise, a warm, gooey feeling spreading outwards from your heart to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's like he has a direct link to the inner workings of your brain and body with how effortlessly he can make you melt, with just a soft, easy smile and a few well chosen words.

"Should I...do you want my mouth?" you ask, glancing between his flushed, leaking cock and his hooded eyes.

"God yes, baby. J-just start slow. Lick the tip, get a feel for it. Don't try to take too much right away," he instructs, his voice constricting more and more with each word. 

"So I shouldn't try to fit all of your giant cock in my mouth on my first go?" you quip, raising a brow.

"Please don't" he chuckles. "Don't want ya pukin’ all over the place. Might kill the mood," he adds with a grin.

You shake your head and let out a light laugh, the sound trailing off into a content hum when he brings his hand to the top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, dull nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

"You're ridiculous," you sigh, leaning into the touch.

"You love it."

You do, so, so much.

"Now c'mon. You've got work to do," he teases, his hand gently tugging at your hair.

You comply easily enough, leaning forward and tenderly swiping your tongue across the slit, licking up the precome that's gathered there. He hisses, a rush of hair pushing past his clenched teeth as  his cock twitches in your hand, a fresh bead of precome forming. 

With your confidence renewed by his reaction, you do it again, pressing your tongue flat against the slit and swirling it slowly around his swollen tip all while your hand still works him at a steady pace. 

Emboldened, you take it a step further and close your lips around him, sealing them around the head to give him a slow, experimental suck. The groan he rewards you with has sparks shooting down the length of your spine.

"That's it. Good girl. Just like that," he pants, fingers tugging and tightening in your hair.

His praise washes over you in another wave of warmth, a feeling akin to a full-body shiver that has goosebumps breaking out over your skin. It strokes your ego, pride and confidence filling you as his soft moans and grunts fuel the fire burning in your belly.

Encouraged by the way he’s already falling apart, you take him a little deeper. It’s only a few inches but your lips are already stretched wide, a slight ache already settling in your jaw from how wide it's being forced open. 

You keep your tongue flat against the underside of his cock while you start to bob your head, trying to match the pace of your hand. But the motions are new and unfamiliar, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated and when he hits the roof of your mouth, your gag reflex kicks in forcing you to pull off quickly, coughing and sputtering.

"Easy. Easy," Joel soothes, his fingers scratching at your scalp again. "Try to breathe through your nose. And don't don't force it, yeah? Feels good, just the way you were doin' it."

"Sorry," you apologize sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"

But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore. 

Thankfully, his words dissolve into a groan when you take him back in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his sensitive head, tongue flat where it slowly glides down the underside of his cock as you take him deeper. 

The ache in your core is quickly growing more and more incessant. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers and tongue on you, your inner thighs wet and sticky with the memory. And the sinful sounds he’s making, whispered curses between breathy moans and grunts, are not exactly helping your case. 

You manage to take a little more, his thick cock stretching your mouth wider, forcing your jaw open even further. You gag slightly around him again but you’re determined to push through it this time. YOu squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in harshly through your nose as saliva dribbles past the tight seal of your mouth and drips onto your hand, your fist diligently pumping what you can't take.

He responds with a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking forward, chasing after the sensation of your throat convulsing around him. 

You're still only a little over halfway down and it's a quick realization that you'll never be able to get it all down your throat. Maybe you can try and practice, but it’s practically a pipe dream to even think about getting his whole cock into your throat without choking to death on it.

But that's a problem for another day. 

For the next time. 

For now, you hollow out your cheeks and suck as you pull back, tongue swirling along the underside until his cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen, spit-slicked lips to his glistening tip. 

You use your hand to spread the wetness, mixing it with the precome that's leaking steadily from the flushed head. The smooth glide allows you to speed up your pace as you look up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

He's staring down at you with hazy, lust blown eyes, his jaw hanging open, panting heavily.

"How am I doing, Professor?" you tease with an innocent smile. A lazy grin slowly spreads on his face in return.

"You’re a fuckin’ natural, baby," he mumbles, his hand moving from where it's tangled in your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your flushed cheek, "My good girl."

And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to. 

Because he just called you his girl. 

His.

To say you’re fucked would be the understatement of the century. 

You hum, pressing your cheek into his palm, wanting, needing, craving more. More of his touch, his taste, his warmth, his cock, his praise. So you take him back in your mouth with a renewed determination, spurred on by his words, wanting to prove to him that he's right, that you are his good girl. Determined to show him that you can make him feel good, that you can please him, that he'll want more of you, need more of you.

And judging by the way his grip on your hair is almost painful, his thighs trembling as he holds himself still, fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat, you'd say you're doing a damn good job

"Makin’ me feel so good, baby. So fuckin' good," he pants when you take him a little deeper.

You whine quietly around him as you press your sticky thighs together. White hot heat pooling low in your belly, your neglected cunt throbbing and aching, slick, wet, and messy. 

You squirm in your spot, rubbing your thighs together and grinding down on nothing in desperate search for the slightest bit of friction. You pray that the movement is subtle enough for Joel not to notice. 

As if that’s possible.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel starts, his tone annoyingly saccharine and condescending as he smirks down at you. “Did we forget somethin’ important?” 

Another small whimper is all you can muster, too focused and preoccupied with the way his thick length is filling your mouth, the weight and taste of him on your tongue dizzying and addicting. 

“Well look at that,” he coos, his hand leaving your hair and sliding down your cheek to cradle your  jaw. He swipes swiping over your bottom lip that’s stretched around his length, smearing the spit that’s gathered there.

“Think I finally found a way to shut ya up. We should’a done this a long time ago. Woulda saved me a lot of headaches,” he chuckles, the sound dissolving into a sharp hiss when you dig your nails into the tender skin of the back of his thigh, hard enough to leave a mark.

You pull off his cock with a wet pop, jaw aching as you glare up at him. 

"I'd shut up if I were you" you warn, the threat of your words completely lost in the breathless, desperate way they leave your mouth. "Just one good chomp is all it would take" you add, clicking your teeth together for emphasis.

But Joel's face just splits into a grin, a full blown, infuriating smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. 

"Biting huh? Now that’s a little kinky. Didn't know you had it in you, sweetheart."

"Shut up," you snap, but it still lacks any real heat, not with the way your lips are twitching at the corners, fighting a smile, your eyes undoubtedly sparkling, your heart definitely leaping out of your chest at the way his eyes are boring into yours.

"Careful, sweetheart. Might have to knock you down a whole letter grade for that type of talk. Gotta respect your professor ‘n all, y’know."

"You're insufferable," you grumble.

"But yet, here you are, still on your knees."

"And I'm gonna get up and leave if you don't stop talking."

"Leave before or after you chomp my dick off? Cause I'd really like a heads up for that, if ya could."

"Jesus fucking christ, Joel!" You huff, rolling your eyes so hard it actually hurts. "Do you ever just shut the fuck up? I'm literally on my knees right now with your dick in my mouth and you're still finding ways to piss me off!"

“What can I say? It’s a special talent of mine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, the smug smile on his face making you want to genuinely bite his dick off now.

You drop the wet hand you had wrapped around him and start to move to your feet.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go. Maybe I'll call my coworker. He's not nearly as irritating as you," you huff, pushing yourself up onto shaky legs, your knees stiff and sore. 

But you can't even take one step before he's grabbing your waist, his large, warm palm resting firmly on the swell of your hip. His fingers flex, his grip tightening, not enough to hurt, but it's enough to halt you in your tracks. You're not particularly fond of the way your heart skips a beat in your chest, the way you can feel goosebumps breaking out all over your body from just his touch. 

He pulls you in closer until your chest is pressed against his, hard, wet cock pressed against your bare thigh.

"You really think you’re gonna leave with your pussy drippin' all over the place like that?” he says, his voice seamlessly switching from teasing to low and rough as his dark, hungry eyes bore into yours. “You're about to ruin my floors with the way you're leakin' right now, baby. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” 

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment from how easily he was able to see your desperation, and with anger at how right he is. 

"Shut the fuck up, Joel," you mumble, giving him a weak push at his chest. "I'm not leaking I-"

The rest of your sentence stays lodged in your throat when his free hand slips between your thighs. Two deft fingers drag through the slick mess, collecting your arousal and spreading it around, a soft, wet, obscene sound filling the space between you. 

You don't even think to stop the high pitched, breathy whine from escaping your lips when he slides a thick finger inside you with no warning, your pathetic sound dissolving into a moan when he immediately follows it up with a second one, his palm pressed flat against your clit.

"Not leaking, hmm? Sure don't seem like it, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Feel that? How easy it was for me to get two fingers in ya?"

"Fuck," you whine as you dig your nails into the bare skin of his shoulder, hanging on to him and desperately searching for any semblance of stability as you try not to sway on shaky legs.

He crooks his fingers in you, fingertips digging into the spongy spot on your front wall that has your knees buckling, tiny stars dotting your vision momentarily as a rush of arousal gushes out of you, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips. Joel chuckles, low and dark and the sound shoots straight to your neglected clit, a bolt of lightning arcing down your spine.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin below your ear, the faint scrape of his beard against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine. 

The feeling of him removing his fingers is a cruel, sudden jolt, the emptiness and lack of pressure and friction has you keening, a needy, impatient noise bubbling up from your throat.

He's moving before you can complain though, stepping around you to sit on the edge of the bed and then promptly pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise as he forces you to straddle his thigh, pulling you down until your aching cunt is seated firmly against his bare skin. The position has his cock pressing against your hip, a drop of precome smearing against your skin.

"Fuckin' soaked for me, honey,” he drawls, his fingertips dimpling the soft skin of your hips. “And to think you were about to leave without gettin' what you came here for.” 

You can't even speak, too enraptured with the feeling of his strong muscles flexing subtly under your hypersensitive clit. So you ignore his teasing and just grind down instead, past the point of desperation. 

But he would never let you win that easily, would he? 

He laughs and tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement and holding you in place.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, baby. Let's talk about the terms first."

You give him the best glare you can muster while suppressing a needy whimper. 

"Terms?"

"Yeah. Terms. Of all this. Like if this is a one time thing, or if we're gonna be havin' regular...lessons," he replies, his hands slowly sliding up your waist and coming to rest on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts. 

"If you're gonna go out with this guy," he continues, his thumbs brushing over both of your nipples. "Or if I'm the only one who's gonna get to see this," he says, leaning forward, his warm breath fanning over your skin. You bite your lip, holding in the soft, needy moan threatening to spill out when his lips press to the hollow of your throat.

"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest, his hands squeezing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking out and licking at your nipple.

"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."

You take a deep steadying breath, trying to clear the thick haze that's clouding your mind and focus on his words, his questions about the fucking terms. 

And you do think about it, about your coworker who's been nothing but so sweet to you, who doesn't get on your nerves in under a millisecond. The coworker, Micheal, you think, his name finally returning to you, who doesn't tease you and play games and leave you a panting, needy, dripping mess. 

And while he is really such a perfect gentleman, he isn’t the one that’s been there for you, listening to you complain about all the shitty things that have happened to you in the last year. He isn’t the man that lets you use him as a punching bag whenever you’re frustrated, has never been the calm, reasonable voice that challenges the anxiety that overwhelms you and threatens to pull you under. 

Michael has never held you when you've cried, never helped you cook dinner after a hard day at work, never fixed the flickering light in your bathroom. He certainly has never dropped a key to his front door in your palm accompanied by a lopsided smile and the words just in case ya need anything. 

Michael isn’t the one who’s been the one to pick up your pieces and put you back together, so gently and tenderly, making you even better than you were before.

It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want. 

It’s Joel.

All of it. 

You want Joel. 

All of him. 

You've wanted him since the day you showed up on his porch with a six pack. You've wanted him all those times you watched from a distance as he fixed something in your house, so capable and competent, casually waving away your slew of thank yous. You wanted him every single time he invited you over for a movie night, sitting close enough to you on his couch that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You wanted him every time he made your blood boil and your eyes roll so hard you swore you could see the back of your brain, and every time you genuinely thought you were going to smack him. 

And now, you have him.

Right here, naked and hard and underneath you, your pussy leaking on his thigh. 

The answer is so painfully obvious, the words falling from your lips before you even have a chance to process them.

"M'not gonna see him," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Want this. Want you."

Joel hums, indicating that he heard you. But again, he would never let you win that easily. 

"Speak up, baby," Joel says, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes dark and intense, a predatory, feral glint in them. "Can't hear you."

And it's infuriating and annoying, absolutely maddening. And it's the last straw.

You're not sure if it's the frustration, or the pent up desire, or the heat burning inside you, or the fact that Joel's still hard, and still leaking precum against your hip, as your cunt slides against his thigh, but you break.

You absolutely shatter.

"I want you!" you practically shout, hands balling into fists where they're resting on his shoulders. 

"You, okay? You! You and your stupid, fucking, annoying ass, and your dumbass pickup truck, and your stupid, charming grin, and the way you always call me 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart'. It drives me fucking insane!  And the way you're always fixing shit, and being so fucking helpful and sweet and you always, always make me laugh, and smile, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the past year that I didn’t think about you and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, not even for a single fucking second.” 

The words spill from your lips in a breathless tirade, and it feels good, freeing. It's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, like a great burden has been taken off of you. 

But the feeling doesn't last long.

Silence stretches between you and it's suffocating, oppressive, and you feel like the walls are closing in on you, panic rising in your chest.

Your cheeks burn, nauseating embarrassment and humiliation coursing through you as you realize the full weight of what you just word-vomited all over him. Your chest heaves, and you hang your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

But then, a bright laugh sounds through the otherwise quiet room. And your eyes snap to Joel's face, only to find him smiling.

He's fucking laughing.

"Joel!" you scold, a mixture of mortification and confusion washing over you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he placates, but the laughter in his voice doesn't help to ease your nerves. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just...I just can't believe how dense you are."

The daggers you shoot at him are truly deadly. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I just go around callin' everyone 'baby' and 'sweetheart'?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I..." you stammer, trailing off as his words sink in. 

"I mean, my southern charm is one thing,” he says, obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows. “But you’re seriously thick if  you think I'm like this with anyone else.” 

You stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s saying. 

“Do you think I let all the neighbors just use me for free handy work, think I cook dinner with all of them, think I keep a stash of everyone’s favorite snacks in my pantry, give everyone a fuckin’ key to my front door? And you think I just go around agreeing to sex lessons to anyone who asks?” He rambles, squeezing your hip. 

Your brain is reeling as you try to wrap your head around everything. 

"Well...no” you stammer, your brows pinching together.  “But…"

"How many other girls you seen me bringin' home? Huh? How many other girls you see me with?"

"None" you admit sheepishly.

"Mhm. Because I don't. Not since you moved in next door."

You frown, confusion clouding your features. You open your mouth to speak but Joel cuts you off.

"I like you, baby," he admits with a sigh. "A lot. Maybe too much. But I wasn't about to lose you as a friend just because I'm crazy about you. And if being your friend is the only way I can be close to you, then I'd take it and die a happy man."

You can only stare at him, the words he just spoke bouncing around in your brain, and a warmth blooms in your chest, your heart fluttering wildly in your ribcage.

"Are you kidding me?!" You exclaim suddenly, hitting his shoulder.

"Hey! Ow!" he barks, his eyes widening as he grabs his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?!"

"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"

"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."

You scoff, glaring at him, not missing the way his lips twitch at the corners, the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"So, the reason why I haven't been able to catch a break the entire time we've known each other, has been because you've been trying to get in my pants? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, that part is just natural. You're just too easy to get riled up. And that’s not my fault."

You open your mouth to argue with him but his sliding over your hips to palm at your ass and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.

"But no, I can't deny that I like it," he rasps, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "The way you get all fired up and angry, your face all flushed, your chest heaving. Mmm, it's nice. You look real pretty when you're all worked up and pissed off," he whispers, his lips curled in a smile when he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear before pulling back to look at you. 

"Why didn't you tell me,” you say, voice softer now, the rough edges of your tone smoothed out by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Didn't want to make it weird. Didn't want you to think I was some creepy old man and ruin our friendship" he explains with a small shrug. "But then you came over here tonight askin’ for a sex lesson, which was not easy by the way, acting like I wasn't already about to burst outta my pants as soon as you asked. Thought for sure you were onto me. But then you started going on about that douche canoe Michael-"

"Joel."

"And then I got jealous and pissed, and figured it was time to cut my losses and just enjoy it while I can, but-"

"Joel."

"Then we were kissing and you were touchin’ me and you're so fucking sexy and-"

"Joel!"

"What?"

"Just kiss me, you idiot" you breathe, and before the words are even fully out of your mouth, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.

It’s bruising, searing, all consuming.

His fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he pulls you forward, the seam of your pussy dragging deliciously against the strong muscles under warm skin. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, the base of your spine tingling when he groans softly into your mouth, and you grind your hips against his, the wet heat of your cunt grinding into his thigh, pulling another soft, low sound from his throat.

"Fuck" he groans, pulling away just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his chest heaving. "Baby, are you still okay with this?" he breathes, voice ragged and gravelly.

You look at him as if he's grown a second head.

"Are you serious?"

""I...well, I was serious when I said I'd be fine with being your friend, and I don't want you to think I'm tryna pressure you into anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes, the soft, endearing side of Joel coming out at the worst possible time.

"I literally just admitted that I've had a crush on you for months, and now I'm sitting on your lap, soaked, and grinding on your thigh and you're worried I don't want this? I think you might be the dense one here."

He grins, wicked and wide, a flash of sharp teeth, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"Guess so," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You don't respond, and instead choose to silence him by pulling him into a kiss, licking at the seam of his lips and sucking his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly into your mouth, and you swallow the noise, rolling your hips again, chasing the sweet friction that's sending a delicious heat through your veins.

"God, baby," he breathes when he pulls back for air, hands on your ass gripping and guiding you against his leg, encouraging your movements. "Makin' such a mess, ain't ya?"

You bite your lip, nodding as a wave of arousal surges through you.

"Yeah, you are. Soakin' my leg, sweet girl," he says, his eyes flicking down between you, watching as your pussy drags along his thigh, coating him in a shiny, slippery sheen.

"Fuck, Joel, please" you whine, your hips jerking and rolling against him.

And that's all the encouragement he needs.

In the blink of an eye, you're on your back, Joel hovering above you, a wild look in his eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and husky, and he trails his fingers over your hip and up your ribs, his touch light, teasing, barely ghosting across your skin and it's almost ticklish, making you shiver. "M'gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good."

Your heart thunders in your chest, and your cunt throbs, your arousal leaking out of you. It feels like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin, the desperation growing with every passing second. 

He trails his fingers down your sternum, and over the flat expanse of your stomach, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in his wake, the muscles under your skin rippling and twitching at the soft, fleeting touches.

And when he reaches the crease of your thigh, you let out a shaky, trembling breath, and he chuckles softly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.

"Eager, are we?" he teases, dragging his fingers over the slick flesh between your legs, gathering the wetness pooled there before slowly sliding a single thick digit inside you. "We're gonna get there, baby. But gotta make sure you're ready first. Don't wanna hurt you.”

You whimper, your walls fluttering and clenching around his finger, and your hips roll forward, seeking friction, wanting, needing more.

Joel curses under his breath and groans softly when your wet, warm walls constrict around his finger. His cock leaks and twitches where it’s pressed against your thigh, and you whimper, both of you caught up in an endless cycle of keying each other up. 

"Please, Joel" you beg, and the words come out soft, pleading, and desperate. You should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he's reduced you to a begging, quivering mess, but the way his eyes go dark, and his pupils blow wide, makes the embarrassment worth it.

"Please, what, baby?” He prods with a devilish smirk. “Use your words"

"You're such an asshole" you snap, but the venom in your voice is diluted with pleasure as he slips another finger inside you.

"You keep saying that. What d’ya want me to do about it, sweetheart? You want me to stop?" he taunts. 

"No!" you cry out, reaching down and grabbing his wrist with an iron grip when he starts to pull out. 

"Then tell me what you want, honey."

"Fuck you,” you mumble weakly. 

"Mhm. Okay, honey" he drawls,  his thumb moving  to circle around your clit as his fingers curl inside you, still pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. . "I'll just wait then. Take my time. Tease your pretty little pussy until you can't stand it. I'm in no hurry, baby. Gonna take all night, if that's what it takes. I've waited this long."

"Joel, please" you whine again, the ache between your thighs turning to an unbearable burn.

"Tell me what you want,” he repeats casually. 

"You," you try with a needy whimper.

"Me? You got me, sweetheart. What else?"

“Oh my fucking god can you please just fuck me? Or do I have to spell it out for you, old man?"

"There she is," Joel says with a laugh, his grin splitting his face "There's my girl"

And then his fingers are gone and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest much more,, they're sliding back in, this time joined by a third.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him, nails digging into the soft flesh of his muscles.

"Oh fuck" you pant, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he starts pumping his fingers again. 

"Gotta get ya ready, baby" he breathes, and his lips are ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear, his breath warm.  "Such a tight little pussy, but we'll get you nice and open, don’t worry.  Then I'm gonna sink in ya, fill you up real nice. Take real good care of you, baby. Fuck you nice and deep, make you forget your name. Would you like that? Hmm?"

A strangled moan is all you can manage in response. His words, filthier and more deranged than any you've ever heard him speak before, sending your brain into overdrive. 

You can’t help but roll your hips, and bucking, and gyrating, meeting his thrusts as his fingers pump in and out of you, the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds filling the otherwise quiet room, and the coil in your gut is threatening to snap.

"Joel, Joel, fuck, oh fuck" you chant, your hazy and thick with pure arousal. It drips down your spine and flows through your veins, liquid heat burning, searing, and  scorching you from the inside out. 

You manage to open your eyes long enough to look down and see the tendons flexing in his wrist, the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging as he works you, his face brows pinched in concentration as he focuses on your reactions. 

"Oh shit, honey," Joel curses breathlessly, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels your slick pooling in his palm. “So messy, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna be a good girl and lemme feel your sweet little cunt clench and drip even more around my fingers?"

You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he thrusts his fingers into you, the heel of his palm rubbing deliciously against your clit. Your fingers scrabble for purchase, desperately seeking something, anything, to ground yourself. You settle for the firm muscle of his arms, your nails biting into his skin and leaving bright red marks that'll undoubtedly leave little half-moon bruises later

"Fuck, yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel. Give it to me."

You come with a cry, the dam breaking, the tension in your gut exploding outward, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, washing through every inch of your body. Your legs tremble and shake, and Joel works you through it, his fingertips nudging that spongy spot inside you, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit, milking you through the aftershocks, and when you start to come down, you're panting and breathless, your chest heaving.

You look up at Joel, and his eyes are blown wide, the deep, rich brown of his irises nothing more than a thin, dark ring around his dilated pupils. There are no words, at least none that you can manage to articulate at the moment, so instead you let out a breathless laugh, and a contented hum, a smile spreading across your lips.

Joel grins, laughing, and he leans down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.

"Good girl" he breathes against your mouth, his words a low, rough rumble that has you keening. "That feel good, baby?"

"Fuck, yeah" you sigh, melting into the matress. 

"Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead then pulling back to look you in the eyes again. “ Think you're ready for me now?"

“Mhm,” you murmur with a lazy nod. “Want you, Joel.” 

Joel laughs, the sound sweeter than it’s ever sounded before.. "You've got me, sweetheart. You've had me. Always will."

"That's awfully fucking sappy," you tease breathlessly, threading your fingers into his soft dark hair. 

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense is  betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you.  "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me."

"The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to."

"Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, raising a brow at him. 

"That’s some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Joel barks out a laugh, the sound coming out more like a snarl, his eyes flashing with something feral, predatory, and dangerous at your challenge.

And then he’s abruptly pulling his fingers from you then  bringing them up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick coating his fingers. The sight nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.

"So fuckin' sweet" he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed momentarily, and a low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest. It's downright obscene, the way his lips wrap around his fingers, how he licks and sucks, cleaning your arousal off of them. 

"Joel," you breathe, your voice nothing more than a shaky exhale.

His eyes snap open, and he gives you a lopsided smirk. 

"Sorry, baby,” he starts, pulling his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on the blanket underneath you. “Can’t help myself. Just had to taste ya again. Gonna have a hard time not doing that every time,” he finishes with a sly smile. 

Every time. 

The words are like a shock of electricity shooting through your veins, setting your blood ablaze. Every time. As in multiple times. 

How the fuck is this real? 

He  stupid smirk is still glued to his face as he leans over to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand. Your brows furrow when he pulls out a condom and goes to open it. 

"I...uh..." you start, but the words die in your throat.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, his smug expression immediately morphing into one of concern.

"I...well...it's just, I'm- I'm on the pill… We can use a condom, but...it's not necessary…just wanted to put that out there. In case, you know…you didn't wanna use one. Since it's not...like, not entirely necessary,” you say quietly, casting your eyes down to where your fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket. 

"Ahh, I see,” Joel responds, all too pleased. “You just want me to raw dog it, huh?” 

"Wha-no! Oh my god, Joel, you are so fucking embarrassing," you groan, covering your face with your hands. 

"S'okay, honey, don’t be embarrassed. It is all part of the full Joel Miller Experience anyway,” he reassures you with a sickeningly sweet tone.. 

"Oh my fucking god, I told you not to say that ever again,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. And you can feel yourself smiling too, despite how irked you are.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he relents, still laughing a little. "If you really don't want me to use one, I guess I can make an exception, just for you"

And it's as if he knows that you're about to lash out at him again, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything, all the fight in you draining away as soon as his mouth is on yours.

"You tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Or if I do anything you're uncomfortable with, or if you just need a break. You let me know, okay?"

You nod.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Joel. Please just get on with it."

"Impatient" he breathes, but  kisses you again nonetheless, soft, slow, and tender. And when he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours like he's looking for any signs of hesitancy. But all he sees is the same raw desire reflected back in your wide, eager eyes. 

You see the exact moment that the last vestiges of his self-restraint disappear, his gaze growing darker and hungrier as he pushes himself up to sit back  on his knees, one  hand around the base of his cock, the other  on the inside of your thigh as he tenderly spreads you open and settles himself between your legs.

He teases you of course, dragging his length through your folds, letting the swollen, leaking tip catch on your clit before sliding back down to nudge at your entrance. You whimper, and try to grind against him, but his hand is firm, holding your hip still, not allowing you any friction.

He hushes you softly, his thumb gently stroking the soft, delicate skin where your hip meets your thigh. "Just let me do what I need to do, baby. Let me take care of you.” 

"You're evil," you whine, squirming underneath him.

"Yeah, well, that's a matter of opinion" he grunts, your breath hitching when he lines himself up and finally, finally pushes the blunt tip of his cock inside you.

Your lips part on a gasp, the feeling of his thick head stretching you open, the slight burn of the intrusion, a mixture of aching and pure pleasure. And you can feel his eyes practically burning holes in your skin, drinking in every little reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every twitch of your brow.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice tight and strained. He looks just as wrecked as you feel, his jaw tight, a sheen of sweat already on his brow, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort of restraining himself.

"More," is all you manage to rasp out, pushing your hips up, trying to get him to sink deeper.

Joel grunts, and then obliges, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tries to feed you only a little more of his considerable length. You can see him chewing on his lip, his nostrils flaring, a slight tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Jesus fuck, you're tight" he grits out, his chest heaving as he tries to regain some of his composure. "I-I didn't…fuck, I didn't think- shit. God fuckin' damn, baby"

You smile a little, the corners of your lips curling upwards. It's the first time you've ever seen him truly at a loss for words, and it's a very welcome change. 

You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed, a sweet sigh escaping his lips at the feeling.

"I can take more," you say softly.

Joel shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not yet."

But you don't listen. Not that you ever really listen to him. 

Your impatience gets the best of you and you push yourself further down the bed, forcing another inch of his cock inside you, your walls fluttering wildly around him as you let out a low moan. 

"Ah fuck, honey," he groans, his eyes flying open.

"C'mon, Joel. More. Please," you beg, grinding down on his cock, taking just a little bit more with each roll of your hips until his fingers dig into your hips so hard, you're sure they'll leave bruises.

"Baby stop fuckin' movin'" he hisses, his grip tightening even further. "Please."

You can hear the strain in his voice, and you can feel him trembling above you, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing and tensing.

"Why not?" you pout.

"Cause m'tryin' not to fuckin' come right now, alright?" he grunts, his teeth gritted. "So please, just stop. For a minute."

"You can't possibly be serious," you breathe, a smile creeping on your face again. "You're not even all the way in yet."

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "Not my fault you're fuckin' tight as shit. It's like your cunt is tryin' to strangle me."

You giggle a little, the sound coming out breathy and light. You don't miss the way Joel's cock twitches at the sound.

"You're being so dramatic," you sigh, rolling your hips again.

"Fuck, honey, please," he begs, his eyes pleading, and the sight is almost enough to make you stop teasing him.

Almost. 

You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your face as you bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across the stubble on his chin. He lets his eyes fall closed again, leaning into your touch. 

"This isn't very 'best lay your life' behavior."

"I will fuckin' strangle you," he mutters, his eyes still closed, a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that part of the Joel Miller Experience too? Because I don't remember seeing it in the brochure. Was it next to the premature ejaculation section? Or maybe the-"

The air is knocked right out of your lungs, cut off mid-sentence when Joel pushes forward. He keeps it slow but unrelenting, sinking into you in one smooth, fluid motion. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as your fists twist in the blanket underneath you. 

It's more than overwhelming, it's absolutely mind melting the way he buries himself completely, stretching your walls, forcing them to make room for him, to mold perfectly around his length. You gasp for air between harsh pants and weak cries, the sensation of him filling you up, so much bigger than you expected, so much thicker than his fingers. You squirm underneath him, trying to get used to the feeling of his tip pressed against your cervix, the pressure building deliciously as the ache radiates from your core through your belly, to the tips of your toes.

"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained and gruff, one hand still gripping your hip as he presses the other into the mattress by your head, holding himself up. "Is that enough for you?"

You struggle to find words, but you're not even sure if there are any in the English language that can convey just how good it feels.

"Uh-huh," you nod, blinking rapidly as the edges of your vision start to blur. "Fuck, Joel. You're so fucking big, oh my god."

You hear him chuckle, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Not too much though, is it? Cause you were begging for more just a second ago. Thought you could take it, sweetheart," he croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

"No, no, 'sgood, " you whimper, the words slurring together as he starts to grind into you. "F-fuck. Joel. Shit, that feels so good. Holy fuck.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your cheek and your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, his breath hot against you. He lets you get used to the feeling, cursing under his breath and trying to think of anything else but the tight, wet heat convulsing around his cock.

"Doesn't hurt?" he asks with a sudden tenderness, his voice vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No," you sigh, finally starting to relax around him.

"Good. You gonna let me know if it does, right baby? Or if you need me to stop?"

You nod weakly. "Mhm."

He kisses you then, a soft, languid, and lazy drag of his lips against yours. He slides his tongue along your lower lip, and you let him in without any hesitation, parting your lips with a breathy sigh. He takes the opportunity to swallow down every little sound that spills from your mouth, kissing you with a kind of reverence, a kind of tenderness, a kind of patience and passion that makes your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest. 

He pulls away leaving you even more breathless and dizzy, your lips tingling and swollen. And you're not sure if it's because of the kiss or the way he's stretching you so fucking wide, but your fucking drunk on it. 

He kisses you once more, on the corner of your mouth, his lips curling up into a smile when you nuzzle against his cheek, seeking out more.

"You still with me, honey?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," you answer, your voice sounding far away, distant and dreamy. Joel chuckles, the sound making you smile. 

"You wanna keep going, sweetheart? Or d'ya need a minute?"

"I'm good, I'm good," you assure him, trying to lift your hips a little. "You can...keep going."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

You nod and then close your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath as Joel pulls out, just a little, his cock dragging along your walls. It's another wave of overwhelming sensation, your entire body shaking. But it's nothing compared to the feeling when he pushes back in. The same full, aching, almost painful stretch, except it's somehow even better this time, your walls gripping him tighter, pulling him in, trying to keep him there.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you cry, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "Oh, Joel, fuck."

He's hovering over you, his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach flexing and contracting as he moves above you.

"Good?" he asks, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes hooded.

You answer with a nod, followed by a long, low moan when he starts to slowly pull out again, pushing back in a bit faster this time. He builds a rhythm, the slick drag of his cock filling you up again and again, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster.

"You're taking it so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with a particularly hard thrust, the force of which has you keening and crying out his name. Your walls clench around him, a gush of slick pouring out around his cock as you subconsciously try to pull him in even further.

"God you're so fucking tight, baby. Fuckin' soaked too, dripping all over me. Fuck. So fucking wet and perfect," he groans, his voice sounding strained, almost like he's in pain. "Such a good fucking girl."

You can't do anything more than just lay there and let him fuck into you, the sounds that spill from your lips a mix of moans, whimpers and desperate little cries. Your brain feels like mush, all thought processes reduced to a single loop of his name, your lips chanting it over and over.

And Joel's not much better, the only coherent words out of his mouth a string of praises, calling you his good girl, telling you how well you're taking him, how fucking tight you are, how heavenly you feel. His hands are everywhere too, caressing, stroking, kneading, squeezing, leaving no inch of your skin untouched.

He finds a steady rhythm and you know it's not nearly as hard as he could go, not by a long shot, but every thrust and drag of his cock hits you so deep and so hard, it's a miracle that you don't shatter beneath him. And the sounds, god the sounds are so obscene, the slapping of skin against skin, the wet, squelching noises of him pounding into your dripping cunt. It's a chorus of pure debauchery, music to both of your ears, only adding to the building pleasure. 

And just when you start to think that it can't possibly get any better, he hits a spot deep inside you that has your body bowing, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him and he curses, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.

"There it is," he grunts, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, the absolute bastard. "Right there, huh? That the spot?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back into you, hitting the same spot dead-on. And you keen and wail, your body thrashing wildly as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, clawing at his back, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

"Yeah, I got ya," he husks, leaning down to suck and bite at the skin just below your jaw. He keeps pounding into that spot, making sure to hit it every damn time, and your vision starts to blur again, black dots dancing at the edge of your eyes.

You don't even realize you're about to come until it's crashing into you, a sudden and violent wave that threatens to tear you apart. And Joel can tell, from the way you start to shake, the way your walls are clamping down around him, the way your legs lock around his waist, and the way you're desperately gasping for air, that you're right there.

"There you go, sweetheart," he coos. "You're so fucking close aren't ya? I can feel it. You gonna come on my cock? Huh?Gonna let me feel that tight little pussy coming all over me?"

"Oh god, Joel," you sob, tears welling in your eyes, his words alone pushing you even closer.

"I know, honey. I know. Just let go, baby. C'mon, that's it. You can do it."

And then he's snaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles against the swollen bud, and the pleasure reaches its peak, the coil in your belly snapping, sending you careening off the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the most intense, powerful orgasm of your life tears right through you. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts, the rush of blood roaring in your ears as white-hot bliss erupts throughout every fiber of your being, your walls pulsing wildly, gushing slick around his cock.

He's there with you every step of the way, murmuring praise in your ear, fucking into you and grinding his cock against your cervix, prolonging your orgasm, extending it for what feels like an eternity. And then you're boneless, spent, and helplessly limp, barely aware of the way he's still rutting against you.

"So good, baby," he rasps, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And then you feel him start to swell and his thrusts become erratic and you know he's right there with you, teetering on the edge, ready to fall. A few more pumps of his hips, his pace frantic and uncoordinated before he pushes himself back up on his knees and pulls out of you with a hiss. He jerks himself for half a second before spilling all over your belly and your cunt, hot, thick ropes of cum splashing against your skin. He grunts and hisses through clenched teeth, a few last drops spilling out onto your pussy, his cock throbbing against you.

You feel completely and utterly destroyed, every part of your body buzzing and tingling, still trembling. And your head feels stuffy and foggy, a hazy, peaceful kind of bliss settling deep in your bones.

Joel slumps down next to you, breathing heavy, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. You glance over at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He's a sweaty, disheveled mess, and the sight makes your heart ache and swell, a rush of warmth flooding through your body.

He notices you looking at him and turns his head to meet your gaze, his own satisfied smile matching yours. You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of your throat and spilling past your lips in a breathy giggle. Joel's smile spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow and rolling onto his side.

"Nothing, I just," you giggle again, and it's almost a hysterical kind of laugh, a nervous kind of relief flooding through your body. "That was…"

Joel chuckles, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing across your forehead.

"Yeah, it was," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"And I…I just really like you, Joel. A lot. I don't know. I guess I'm just happy."

His face softens and he stares at you for a moment, his expression so fond and tender that you forget how to breathe for a moment. He leans down and kisses you, his lips gentle and warm before he pulls away. 

"I guess I like you too," he murmurs, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno about a lot, but-"

"Shut up, you ass" you giggle, slapping his shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment."

He hums delightedly and presses another kiss to your forehead."M'kay, you have your moment. I'm gonna clean you up, alright?"

You pout but let him go, letting the afterglow of your climax envelop you until he returns a moment later with a warm wet cloth. His touch is tender, gently cleaning between your legs and then wiping the cum from your belly. You're still shaking, every touch sending little aftershocks through your body.

"So," he starts, tossing the cloth into the corner of the room before looking at you expectantly. "Best lay of your life?"

You laugh, your heart bursting at the seams, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard. 

"Not even close."

Thank you for reading!! I apologize in advance for any errors I do not enjoy editing!!

tagging those who asked and who might be interested:

@shewantstoknow @pedritoferg @khindahra @wand-erer5 @akah565 @thereaperisabitch @first-edition @lilyevanstan1325 @lovelyjess69 @elliesswearjar @iloveenya @harriedandharassed @c2ss1e @paleidiot @starry-eyes-love @lola8888673 @saguchiya @milla-frenchy @cayleejz @missyorkswhore @farrowroyale @abbyandersonsragdoll @glimmering-darling-dolly @katiexpunk @worhols @thecasualnope @ahintofkiwistrawberry @lulawantmula @sawymredfox @prismaticpizza @serenadingtigers @venturawriter @kyloispunk @millercontracting @jjhayhay20 @bitchesuntitled @bean-is-reading @lvl-2005 @kamcrazy123 @covetyou @survivingandenduring @pinkiec6-rubi @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @pedroshotwifey @perfectlyfreeanalyst @plsdontmisfire @lokigonnakmsforbucky @kr-ickl3

I will not tag ageless/faceless (no pfp) blogs. If you asked to be tagged and weren't you either did not have an age/pfp or Tumblr wouldn't let me :(

[percheduphere]

You know what I would find really hilarious?

CONSIDER:

The Avengers meet God of Stories Loki and Mobius. Mobius is very charming, very folksy. He pours everyone coffee. Makes sure the thermostat in the conference room is at a comfortable temperature. Offers croissants. All the markers of a good host.

The Avengers all like him right away but are wary of Loki. After a comedic abridged version of a TVA infodump, in which Loki and Mobius ping-pong little details and show their whole squabble and tease dynamic, one of Kang's underlings is captured.

MOBIUS: Okay. Think I got a read on this guy. You wanna take a swing at him for intel or should I?

LOKI: I think you should. Y'know, trying out the whole 'good guy' bit.

MOBIUS: Sounds good. Gentlemen's competition. Time me?

LOKI: Of course.

And the Avengers watch as this cozy little human goes in and just EVISCERATES the underling. No weapons. No superpowers. Just WORDS.

The underling is on the floor, in a fetal position, sobbing and begging no more. He spills all the critical information they need. Mobius steps out.

The Avengers are in SHOCK.

BUCKY: (mumuring) ... Jesus Christ ...

HAWKEYE: (whispering) Holy shit, he's scarier than Nat.

MOBIUS: (to Loki) How'd I do?

LOKI: 2 minutes and 43 seconds. Not bad.

MOBIUS: Eh, still haven't beat your record.

LOKI: Well, I do have the advantage of magic. Should I take a handicap?

MOBIUS: Don't insult me.

[etherealily]

𝒮𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮 // 🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇯​​🇦​​🇨​​🇴​​🇧​​🇸​.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Slur used.

This one is loooong.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Bender? Nah, bend...her (to your will).

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Nate didn't really seem the type to get anxious.

Okay, scratch that. He got anxious when you weren't there to high-five him before a game.

But even that didn't come close to whatever the fuck he was feeling when he called you that evening, yelling as if you'd killed his fucking cat, or something.

"Come faster, come faster!", he urged, ignoring you as you informed him you were only human, and you were on your way as fast as possible. The lewd joke was right there, and he didn't take it. Something was seriously wrong.

"Why the hell are you so jumpy?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Slight change of plans. You're wearing something... conservative, yeah?"

"What?"

"Like, jeans and a T-shirt is fine, I guess.", he muttered, on the other end of the line, as if he was mentally picturing exactly what he wanted you to be wearing.

"Did you think my original plan was to show up in lingerie?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop being so fucking defensive!"

That was a slur that you just heard in his voice. "Are you drunk?"

"You're scarily good at this."

"Why are you drunk already?" Wasn't even dark yet.

"Can you just fucking drive, please?"

You rolled your eyes, taking a small moment to sadistically picture his head caught in the wheel, before placing your phone down and speeding up the car that unfortunately had to relive the trauma of driving because Nate Jacobs told it to.

The Jacobs household was infuriatingly stereotypical. Of course he'd have a pretty spectacular front doorstep. It was almost designed to lure you in.

You weren't even allowed to ring the doorbell, he answered the door much before. That was a shame. You wanted to be the one forcing him to come somewhere reluctantly, for once.

"Don't speak unless spoken to." Well, hello to you, too.

"What?"

"It's not just us."

No, no, no, no.

"Nate, you fucking asshole.", you hissed.

"I didn't know! My brother found out you were coming over and told my parents, so they cancelled plans to meet you."

"Why?"

"'Cause our Dad's a jerk, and my Mom's probably going to judge you, and my brother's a coward who hates me."

That was way too much Jacobs drama for one single minute, and you were not even two steps into the house.

"Wait, just-"

"It's fine, just sit next to me, shut up, and don't like... make eye contact."

"Am I meeting your family or getting into the cage with a fucking tiger?"

"Also, don't cuss.", he warned, pointing a finger at you and guiding you by your shoulders further into the abyss he called a home. "Smile. A lot."

Was it really even a normal family dinner if you had to be prepped this much? No, probably not.

"Hey, look who finally showed up!", he chuckled, the fakest breeze in his voice as he steered your shoulders towards a chair.

The rest of the Jacobs family looked up at you.

And suddenly, you'd have been fine clinging to Nate, because he was evidently the mildest of them. Rich freaks.

"Oh, the project partner." His mother, laying plates down on the table before patting your head, was a sight to behold. "Bit late.", she remarked, sickening sweetness lacing her tone as she stared pointedly at Nate behind you as if you couldn't fucking see it.

"Yeah, well, she's just learning to drive, y'know? Goes really slow."

Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, mama's boy, just say you had no intention of having your family here tonight.

"Nate, you never told me she could legally drive."

That must be the brother - the coward. He looked like he'd fucking rip you apart with just a glare.

"I didn't tell you anything.', he mumbled, more for you than him, before making his voice louder. "Y/N, this is my brother, Aaron, Aaron, Y/N."

His eyes made your skin crawl. Like you were a weapon he'd just been able to use against Nate.

"And, uh, my dad. Dad, this is, uh-"

You had no idea when your name had become so hard for him to pronounce, the way he was unable to get it out.

"Y/N, yes, I heard. I'm Cal. Cal Jacobs."

You'd take Nate forcing a gun down your throat to the feel of Cal's hand shaking yours any day.

In comparison, Nate's gun was basically the gentlest thing you'd ever be able to feel. A caress, essentially.

"Sit, sit.", he instructed, gesturing at you to do as he said in his own house or else. "So."

He was so fucking drunk. You could see it in his eyes.

Both Cal and Nate Jacobs were shitfaced.

Nate, you understood, because after hearing his description, even you seemed to need liquid courage to get through a dinner with his drunk dad.

"So.", responded Nate, blankly, as he sat down next to you, as promised.

The chairs you were on were fancy but seemed tired, in a way. Like they were putting up a strong front.

"What, pray tell, is this famous project that you've apparently been sneaking out for, according to Aaron?"

Oh, that was the problem! The sneaking out! Oh, that was okay, that was in your jurisdiction, you could just fix it. Make it sound like there was no other time to meet up. Cool cool cool.

"It's just this thing for psychology. About athletes and superstitions."

"My Nate doesn't have any superstitions. He wins because he's the best.", interjected his mother, as if you'd been holding a gun to his face and she'd just jumped in front of him. You looked at the giant plate she'd just set down. Fucking steak.

With a knowing glance at Nate, you nodded. "Yes, but jocks don't really like admitting it. So I just ask him about his buddies who do have superstitions. Seeing as he has none of his own."

You didn't bother to look at the fuck-you-so-much glare he was sending your way.

"Oh, yes, Mom, Nate's just the best. Don't you think he's just the best, Y/N?", cooed Aaron, clearly hinting at something only he and Nate were in on.

"Yes, yes, he's very good at what he does."

"What he does?"

"I mean, you are talking about him as QB, right?"

He took a gulp of water, nodding as he searched into your eyes for some tell that he'd expected you to have. "Right."

Nate subtly shook his head after you frowned at him. Let it go.

"So, you've taken psychology."

His dad didn't really seem the jerk that Nate had made him out to be. Sure, he had the whole terrifying handshake thing going, but he wasn't all bad. He was the only one with his sanity intact, and the fact that he was plastered yet normal was both relieving and mildly concerning.

"Yeah."

"How come?"

"Always been interested in how it works."

"Can you read minds?"

"Essentially."

"Read mine."

"I... don't know you well enough."

"Later, then. When we know each other a bit better. Meanwhile, dig in."

Involuntarily, your gaze turned back to the asshole you'd had the misfortune of interacting with for the past three weeks, and he nodded, either telling you you did well, or giving you permission to eat.

Either way, your mouth was now shut and would continue to be unless someone forced it open. The awkward clinks of glasses and clangs of cutlery rang through the room, battling fruitlessly to dissolve the tension.

"How's the food?"

Why was Nate trying to get you to talk?

"Oh, great, I really like it."

Nate's mother smiled at that. "Well, thanks. It's actually a new recipe I found on some obscure old cooking show tape my mother had recorded, back in her day! God, I'm telling you, those were simpler times."

Oh. So Nate hadn't cooked. Couldn't say you were surprised.

"Well, it's lovely.", you replied, smiling down at the garbage you had to put into your system. It was nothing personal, really, steak was just gross.

"I must say, Y/N, you're so much more polite than that girl. She was a real-"

"Mom. Mom.", warned Nate, shaking his head and waving his hand in front of his throat in a cut it out motion."She's friends with Maddy."

The entire table suddenly went silent, as if he'd just confirmed your involvement in a pyramid scheme. "Oh.", said Aaron, and his fucking eyes showed you he was full of pure mirth. "That's interesting."

"You're friends with both Nate and Maddy?", questioned Mrs Jacobs, as if trying so desperately to figure out your intentions for her baby boy.

"I'm friends with Maddy, and have been for... basically my whole life. And, yeah, I guess now I'm friends with Nate for the project. I don't get why it's so-"

"She's pretending to be her friend, Mom, alright? It's a childhood loyalty thing, but no one likes Maddy, she's a fu- she's not likeable."

Oh, so now Nate could suddenly write out your entire story and replace it with a script of his own making?

Acting as if she'd just dodged a cancer scare, she placed her hand on her chest, sighing in relief. "Thank god. You could've said that, dear. I was worried for a moment there."

You looked back down at the food. You couldn't shake the feeling that your lack of response had been a form of betrayal, though it was rooted in fear.

"So you and Nate are friends?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I don't know, Aaron, why do people befriend psychopaths? To save their own asses, of course.

"I mean... what do I even say to that?", you laughed, and it was supposed to mock him, but it just showed how nervous you really were. Fuck. Blood in shark-infested waters. "I guess he's... a nice guy, so, y'know."

Even you didn't believe that. Even NATE didn't believe that.

"That's a new one."

You nodded, clearing your throat as you continued to work on slicing up your steak. All three Jacobs men watched the piece go into your mouth and you wanted to throw it right back up.

"You think he's hot?"

"What?"

"Nate. My lil' bro. You think he's hot?"

"Aaron, honestly!", muttered his mother, shaking her head as if this was all just a playful banter session. "Stop it. Nate said they're friends, so they're friends."

Your phone buzzed.

'I really didn't know they'd be here.'

'Shut up.'

'Ur doing great.'

'I said shut up.'

'Lol.'

"Nate, didn't you tell her we've got a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule?"

You stuffed the phone back in your pocket, as well as any hope you'd get out of this house anytime soon.

"I mean, you're a total smokeshow. And he's..."

"Aaron."

Aaron smirked through his chewing, winking at you. "Well, he's attracted to smokeshows. Total match. But you're, what, a cheerleader? That's his real type."

"No, I'm not a cheerleader."

He sucked in breath, sharply, tutting as he shaked his head. "Tough luck."

"Aaron.", warned Nate, sucking his teeth. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying. It's not surprising he hasn't dicked you down yet."

THAT escalated fast.

"Aaron! No cussing at the table, and especially not in front of guests.", hissed Mrs. Jacobs, as if her youngest son's entire vocabulary didn't consist of the word 'fuck'. "I'm sorry, he gets like this when he teases his brother."

"Or maybe he... oh, wait, didn't he invite you here alone first?", mused Aaron, frowning in mock curiosity.

Nate's hand found your knee under the table, patting the side of it as if he could tell you were losing it. There was some kind of psychological warfare underfoot, and you weren't in on the joke, the origin or the punchline. You were being blindsided. Let it go. Fuck what his eyes told you, you'd fucking riot if you didn't get out of there right now.

Cal, who'd been perfectly silent for all this time, leaned back in his chair, his fork down and apparently, his booze-filled blood shooting up. "I'm curious, too. In more polite words than that. Why are you and Y/N just friends?"

Okay, this was clearly not your jurisdiction. This treatment was not because he'd, like, broken curfew or something.

"Dad, we're just partners. Project partners."

"Shame. She's a knockout."

Okay, Aaron saying that was creepy enough.

"No, seriously, Y/N, you're really beautiful. Nate couldn't do better if he tried." Sounded backhanded, and it probably was. "If you're not attracted to him, it's kind of an insult to me, isn't it?", he inquired, innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't I good looking?"

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" It was weird seeing Nate playing the white knight in your story and not the dragon, but hey, you'd take it.

"I mean...", continued Cal, taking a bite of his food, all the while gazing at you. "Unless your issue is just with his personality. Because then..."

What. The. Fuck.

"Y'know.", said Cal, offhandedly, as if the entire fucking table didn't know what he was implying. "Just food for thought."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?", he repeated, his voice sounding more strained by the minute.

"Nate."

"No, Mom, I will fucking cuss, if they're sitting here being fucking assholes about it!"

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that, son!", yelled Cal, and suddenly, you felt like a voyeur zooming in on someone else's life, someone else's argument, someone else's issues.

Aaron lifted up his hands in defense, standing up as well. "Hey, man, I'm just saying. You're disappointing men everywhere if you don't hit that."

"Oh, you're one to talk, you bitchless waste of FUCKING space."

"One goddamn night! One goddamned night without this bullshit, please!"

"Oh, come on, Marsha, you know full fucking well you're no innocent here! You've raised these boys up so goddamn weak that they can't even fucking do their own laundry, and CLEARLY can't fucking learn RESPECT!"

Evidently the no-cuss-rule was out.

Nate's hand slammed down on the table next to you so hard your plate shook, and suddenly, you wished you had shown up in lingerie. At least the mother would've kicked you out as soon as you'd walked in.

Your eyes stayed on your fork, the shitty fucking steak, and you waited. For what, you didn't know. But eventually, Nate sat back down, and so did the other two Jacobs men.

Okay. Phew.

And then Nate muttered 'faggot', and suddenly, Aaron was ushering you into a room - Nate's room, he informed you, in a hurry - and you were locked in. Screams, the sound of things slamming on the floor, and a distinct crack ensued.

FUCKING CHRIST.

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The light from the living room beamed into the room with the monogrammed pillows -pathetic, you had to remember to mock him for it later- about twelve minutes later.

You knew that because you'd been keeping track.

The entire evening was surrounded by a lack of clarity, and after whatever had happened out there that you were not allowed to be privy to, thankfully , you were now completely in the dark as to what the whole stiff, insinuation during dinner was all about. What, they thought you guys were hooking up, was that it?

But all that just dissipated once you saw Nate standing in the doorway, looking at you as if he had just accidentally broken your favourite toy on the playground at five years old. And he was even drunker than he was before.

And once more, you allowed your heart to break for Nate Jacobs.

Wait, no, scratch that.

Your heart broke for him, with none of your own volition. It just fucking happened.

"Are you okay?" What you were really asking was 'did he hurt you?', but you didn't say it.

He didn't respond, and instead took cautious steps toward you, as though you were a bomb he'd never learnt to dismantle before.

But the caution wore off quite fast, because suddenly, your hands were stroking his hair and he was clinging onto you like a vine. Or a python with its prey. TBD.

He kept muttering things into the crook of your neck, things that vaguely resembled 'I'm sorry', but, I mean, it was Nate.

That was usually followed by some kind of blackmail, right?

Blackmail, not pained moments when his mind led him to thoughts that made him grip tighter onto you, like the hug was his lifeline. RIGHT?

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Evidently, you'd heard him right the first time.

"It's okay. Shh. It's okay." At this point there was nothing else you could do except lie to him.

"I fucking hate him, he's a fucking asshole!", he grunted, his words muffled but strong in your hair.

"It's fine, I wasn't offended." You understood. People are weird when drunk. Not usually asking a minor to fuck them kind of weird, but maybe that was just your lack of exposure.

He pushed you away, looking at you as if you'd just suggested cannibalism or something even more sickening. "It's fine? You weren't offended? Y/N, my dad literally asked to fuck you! What, do you want him to, is that why you were looking at him like that?"

'He's sloshed, he's sloshed, he's sloshed.' , you reminded yourself, lest you punch him again.

"Nate-"

"No. I have a question.", he said, closing his eyes and then opening them wide for a moment. This told you that the liquor had just pierced his skull. "You- You fuck Shane Crestin, the biggest fucking cunt in the world, you wanna fuck my DAD, but you won't fuck ME?", he asked, his voice increasing in decibel and his finger repeatedly slamming against his chest, like he apparently wanted to do to you.

SLOSHED, SLOSHED, SLOSHED. Remember.

"Nate, I didn't fuck Shane, I don't want to fuck your dad, and I- I don't wanna fuck anyone!"

"Why not ME? Do you not like me? You think I'm a prick? I'm not good enough for your whore ass?"

"Nate, I'm just-"

"HOW ARE YOU SO FINE WITH MY DAD WANTING TO FUCK YOU?!"

"I'm not! It makes me sick, but-"

"SO WHY WON'T YOU SAY HE'S AN ASSHOLE? SAY IT! SAY IT!"

"Nate-"

"FUCKING SAY IT!"

You almost cried at how fast you had to dodge the lamp that came whizzing your way before crashing and disintegrating against the wall behind you.

It amazed you how you knew that this boy's mother and brother were probably still lingering in the same house, hearing this bullshit, and yet not a peep came out of them. Fucking jerks.

"Nate."

"I swear to god, Y/N, if you don't say it right now-"

"Fine, he's an asshole!"

He looked up at you. He didn't believe it. It's fine, you didn't give a shit anymore. It went without saying, and if he needed you to say it, he was an idiot. "Bullshit."

"You're not apologizing?"

"For what? Yelling? No, I'm not."

Deliberately obtuse, just like always.

Speaking of which, you were a hundred percent sure you'd been grazed at your temple. Your fingers returned from the site with red all over them.

"I could've been hurt." You displayed those fingers to him, right in front of the eyes, so he could better view the same scarlet gore you had to see in his first ever text to you, but he looked at them like you'd showed him his own face in the mirror.

'That's normal', his look said.

"You could've fucked my dad, too, but neither of those things happened tonight." This was what he actually said.

It was like he'd forgotten what happened two seconds ago. Like the shards of glass lying in front of his wall had always been there, and were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Okay, that's fucking it.", you scoffed, shouldering past him on your way out. You'd hoped he wouldn't stop you, but you'd known he would.

"No."

Okay, you'd expected 'wait', or something nicer.

"Shut up, Nate, don't push me."

"You're bleeding. The corner store doesn't have first-aid. I do."

He said it like that was the answer to everything. That you should never have any more questions about his actions.

You let him lead you back to the bed, the silence gnawing at you both. He seemed more than happy to let it devour him whole, seeing as he was tight-lipped and disinterested, almost, when he turned on the light in his bathroom, foraging around for his first-aid kit, or whatever.

He looked like he was about to go batshit for a second time that night, the frantic manner in which he was throwing stuff off his counter to find it, yanking the drawers open so forcefully they'd scream if they could.

Luckily, though, he found the damn thing, tossing it to you from where he stood. Catching it, you opened the box, wordlessly rummaging through for cotton or band-aids or something to keep your hand and eyes - and most importantly, mind - busy.

The cotton sitting nervously in your hand, you took tentative steps into the bathroom, wisely keeping your distance from Nate, who stood still, ruminating on something with one hand still on the drawer's handle.

You stood in front of the mirror.

The mirror lied to you. It always has, always will. Your damage looked minimal, but that was excluding the emotional one.

You looked away from your reflection's eyes to focus on the side of your forehead, and sometimes to your left, at the occassional huff that escaped him.

Mirror-you grimaced just like real-you, as you harshly rubbed at the skin around your cut. So much red.

At this point, it was impossible to avoid your own eyes, those essentially vapid pools of numbness at this point. You didn't know what was going on, and lord knew if you'd understand it even if it was explained to you like a five year old.

Because it couldn't be real. You couldn't be standing right next to the guy who almost maybe blinded you, maybe even KILLED you, had the impact been angled differently.

Your pain only seemed to be getting exacerbated the more cotton you used up. The piece of glass you were trying to remove from your temple was stubborn, like the man who helped transform it from its shape to a shard.

When you finally did remove it, you were quick to try to put a stopper to the gushing blood coming out of it, but the way you did it had you wanting to scream in agony.

"What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to dab, not rub.", he muttered, sucking in his breath sharply as he slapped your hands away, seeming furious at you for not knowing what to do after you get impaled by a piece of broken glass. "The rubbing makes it worse."

His finger turned your jaw toward him, and he snatched the cotton from you before dabbing softly at and around the wound where the little refracting fragment of glass had sat before, and intact, unblemished skin had sat once before that.

Dutifully grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid box, he tilted it so that it would gently stain the cotton, before pressing it to your temple, shushing you softly as you winced.

Jovially traumatizing what you imagined to be every single cell in the wound, the antiseptic finally fizzled out, its effect no longer sharp and concentrated and debilitatingly painful.

"You're a mess." His voice was so cold, so unkind, so... detached.

You're one to talk.

"Are you going to say anything?" He sounded almost... bored.

You stayed silent. If he thought you were going to give him more things to throw shit at you over, he was sorely mistaken.

He sighed, his jaw ticking slightly. "Y/N."

Your eyes moved away from the mirror behind him and back to his.

He paused his lazy movements to look down at you, your eyes, specifically, before gently bending down so he was suddenly looking up at them.

What that was supposed to achieve was unclear, but what it did affect was your ability to look away.

"I want to hear your voice.", he informed, his eyes moving between yours.

Like a bull craves the muleta.

Glancing down at him, you realized his eyes didn't match his tone. There was something almost dead about them.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Cuss me out, maybe? I don't know. I don't like the quiet."

"Why, 'cause it makes you think?", you scoffed.

"Yes, actually.", he replied, looking at you deadpan. "It does, and that's not really what I wanna do right now, okay?"

He wasn't bored, you realized. He was numb.

"Okay."

"So say something, damn it."

"About what?"

"Y/N. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I don't give a shit. ANYTHING." He shook your shoulders as if that would cause you to spit out a good conversation in the aftermath of this night.

"Okay, uh... you promised me you'd listen to Queen with me."

He stared at you for a good while before his face softened, just enough for you to wonder if you'd imagined it, and then he frowned. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Then I will."

You nodded. "'Kay."

"Tell me about Queen."

"Look, man, I don't know-"

"Y/N.", he warned, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached for a band-aid, eyes never leaving your wound.

"Jeez, fine. Uh, 'We Will Rock You'. 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 'Another One Bites The Dust'."

"That was them?", he mused softly, the words dying out a little before they reached your ears, as he ripped the cover open with his teeth, then unwrapped the band-aid.

"Yes. Freddie Mercury's the lead singer."

"The one with the teeth?", he inquired, pressing slightly on the band-aid to ensure it stuck.

The sheer dichotomy of what he was doing - cleaning up a wound caused by him that might have killed you- and what he was saying - some quip about the lead singer of some '70's band he'd barely heard of - was astounding.

"Yup." You popped your p, hoping that would echo around the room and fill the silence for long enough that Nate wouldn't pester you to talk again, which was the last thing you felt like doing.

He gazed at your wound for a little while longer before nodding. "Done. Don't touch it for another week, maybe two."

"Okay."

"And I'll get you, like, a blanket or whatever, let me just put this shit back."

"A blanket?"

"Well, yeah. You don't get cold? What are you, superhuman?"

"I'm not staying here. I'm going home."

"Like hell you are.", he laughed dryly, opening his drawer and carefully placing the box back in before moving to the sink again. His hands moved quickly, squeezing paste onto his brush. "Not this late."

You looked down at your watch. "It's nine."

"It's late."

You snorted. "Thought you were the badass curfew-less one. Now you're freaking out about nine p.m?"

Why were you even still talking to this... thing in front of you? Why were you arguing with him? You could just fucking walk out.

He rolled his eyes, his toothbrush being as thorough as possible for a couple minutes before he spat it out, gargling and then turning to look at you. "It's late."

"I'm not spending the night, Nate."

"You a sleep-talker? 'Cause that's crazy shit.", he said, spitting out his mouthwash and wiping with the back of his hand, walking past you as he opened a cupboard, and tossed a heavy-looking duvet down at your feet.

"Nate, I'm not staying over!"

"But the really creepy ones are the sleep-walkers, I'm tellin' you.", he continued, shaking his head as he picked and chose two of his pillows and threw them at your feet, too. "My cousin, back when we were eight, I woke up and found him, like, banging his head on the door. Ouija board shit, bro, I'm tellin' you."

It was clear he was blatantly ignoring you, but what infuriated you the most was that he expected you to sleep on the same floor which was strewn with dangerous, nigh invisible shards of glass.

"Nate!"

"No, seriously, I don't care if it's like, a medical condition or whatever, they're like the fucking Conjuring movie, bro!", he declared, throwing his hands up as he distractedly moved to the other side of his bed, now, checking his phone. "You're not one of 'em, right?"

"You're such a fucking asshole, I'm leaving."

"If you step out that door, I will fucking kill you."

What unnerved you was that his eyes never moved from his phone. This was as casual as his reply to his Mom asking what he wanted for breakfast or something.

Saying he'd kill you was like saying 'pancakes with butter' to him.

"What?"

"I'm going to kill you if you leave." , he huffed, tiredly. And this time, it was clear he really was bored. Bored of the conversation, bored of your resistance, bored.

"You're fucked up."

"Look, sweetie, we've both had a long day-"

"Don't fucking call me that."

He let out a breathy snicker, nodding. Almost like he'd been wondering when you'd call him out on it.

"Fair. Look, bitch, we've both had a long day...", he corrected himself, with a self-satisfied grin, before continuing, "... and I'm not letting you drive home alone with a bleeding forehead."

"I thought you fixed it."

"With the way you're yelling right now, the blood vessel you're about to pop could rip the bandage from the inside out. Look- I- I can't deal with this shit, Y/N, okay? Not tonight. So shut up and close the fucking door."

"My family's expecting me home."

He raised a brow, as if you'd just said something so pathetic he almost felt sorry for you - like you'd just said you still fucking watched Disney Channel, or something. "They know you're here?"

"No." As if.

"Where do they think you are?"

Oh, he'd expected you to have told them you were with another friend. Sorry to disappoint, asshole, but some people aren't as prepared to stay over because their friend had a psycho family.

"I'd rather not talk about it - I don't like to recall my lies."

His eyes widened, and it looked like, for the first time that entire, painful night, he was actually amused, and fuck you for being so pathetic, but you were actually glad you'd mitigated the agony, at least a little bit. "They still think you're at your internship? You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what? That some jock thinks touching me is his good luck charm, so he stalked me, found out where I worked, and cost me my entire internship by barging in?"

"Or you could've just said your boss was a perv, and you quit."

"He wasn't a perv."

"I'm a guy. I can tell."

Wow, way to dig at an entire gender's ability to perceive danger.

You shook your head, rubbing your forehead. "What is your problem, Nate?"

"I care too much."

You laughed loudly at that, and he looked too tired to even be mad. "I just don't like the thought of you driving home alone at night, okay? Simple as that."

"Then don't think the thought."

"You're staying."

"Like hell I am."

He groaned, putting his phone back down and rubbing his face as he walked towards the front of the bed - towards you. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. Because my family-"

He rolled his eyes, reaching into your pocket and grabbing both your wrists to keep you from stopping him as he scrolled through your contacts - god, you had to get a fucking passcode.

"Maddy- no fucking way.", he mumbled, his thumb racing across the screen. "Cassie- one of Maddy's minions, so no- oh. Who's Lex?"

"Alexis."

"Oh, Alexis Howard? Lexi? She'll cover for you, right?"

"Not without telling Cassie. Now give me back my phone!"

"She won't tell Cassie. How's this? 'Lex, tell my family I'm sleeping over at yours, ok? Love you, xoxo!'", he read out, his voice attempting to mimic yours.

"Is that what you think girls talk like?"

"Yeah, with a scary amount of emojis."

"Misogynist."

"Badge of honour, baby. I'm sure Lexi, one of your best gal pals will cover for you."

Yes, of course, but that was besides the point.

"That's not the point-"

"The point is that you don't feel safe enough to fall asleep around me."

"What?"

"That hurts, sweetie."

"You know what else hurts?", you spat, pointing at the band-aid at your temple.

"It'll heal." He was still refusing to apologize.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

"Smash or pass, uh... McKay."

You almost laughed right then and there. "Smash."

"Really?"

You looked up at his ceiling, imagining him up on the bed, judging your smashability-scale.

"Yeah, why not?"

"You could never do it, you know? Realistically. You're not his type."

"Shut up. Smash or pass... Kat."

"Pass. Hard. Pass."

"Why?"

"I should say it's because she's close to Maddy, but you and I both know the real reason is 'cause she's so fucking ugly that-"

"Alright, shut up."

"See, this is the problem with you girls. Just agree. She's ugly."

"I don't think anyone's ugly. I think it's all action-based."

"God, then you must think I'm hideous."

He scoffed at the silence that followed. "Ouch."

"I don't think you're hideous, Nate. Just extremely unattractive."

"Superlatives, really? Y'know, whatever, I deserve it. Uh... smash or pass, Shane."

"Uh... pass."

"Why?" The glee in his voice was evident and mildly amusing.

"He cussed me out after I said the date wasn't going well."

The laughter that escaped Nate seemed to go on for hours on end. "In the middle of the restaurant?!"

"We weren't in a restaurant."

"Where were you guys?"

"He took me to a club or something."

Nate's face came into your peripheral view as he peered over the edge of the bed to face you. "On a first date."

You nodded. "Yup."

"The guy's both a fucking tool and a miserable little cunt. Anything other than a restaurant is fucking unacceptable for a first date."

"I know, even a bowling alley's fine, but a club is stupid, right? I mean, like, at the very least a café."

He nodded, his mouth curling down slightly. "Yeah, at least. Bare minimum."

It was uncomfortable, him looking down at you with pity the same night that his father had embarrassed him and cussed him out. Wasn't right. "Well, whatever. Smash or pass, uh... Rue."

"Rue Bennett? We got history, so, uh, I dunno."

"History?"

"A miscommunication during prom.", he told you, shrugging, but it was clearly something much more serious. "She's hot when she's off the drugs, I guess."

You rolled your eyes and he smiled.

"Hey, Y/N?" He didn't move back to his pillow, instead letting his arms dangle off the edge of the bed as he reached and toyed with a strand of your hair, glancing down at you. "I'll leave you alone after tonight, okay?"

"What?"

"Like, I- tonight? It was... bad. And I'm... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm, I'm sorry. If you just, y'know, fist-bump me before every game, we'll be good. Okay? I won't bother you outside of that."

See, he said this, but his thumb kept returning to your lower lip every two seconds. You'd be a fool not to take this deal. But you'd be a liar if you said you remembered anything about life before Nate.

"Okay."

"You should get to sleep. It's two."

"What will you do?"

"Try to sleep.", he mumbled, his eyes moving away from you and towards the glass, which lay several feet away from you, on your left - almost like it was trying to reach your heart.

Your eyes followed his, and you sighed. "For the record, I don't want to fuck your dad."

"Yeah. I got that now."

"You gotta stop drinking, man."

He chuckled, nodding. "No. But thanks for the concern." Rolling back over, he left you staring at the ceiling once more, as if there were clues there as to the enigma that was Nate Jacobs.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

When you'd pulled up to your driveway the next morning - Sunday - it hit you that you were free of Nate forever. Last night, you'd have probably not known how to feel about that. This morning? Fucking elated.

You didn't even have to draw out a map, or take a single moment to think it over - every single problem in your life over the last month could be traced to him.

So fucking yay. Good riddance.

And the next day, Monday, you realized something.

School had never been so fucking fun.

Your classes started making more sense, seeing as you no longer had to look over your shoulder for some motherfucker who'd slit his own throat if you didn't go where he wanted. Fucking yay.

No, seriously. That's it. We're done here. No more Nate. End of story.

...

Ha.

So gullible.

----

Nights after Nate had always been the hardest.

Because you always found yourself losing your sanity and you knew that the only person who could even remotely get your mind off it was Nate himself.

Maybe that was his allure.

Hurting you then comforting you.

Making you cry then wiping the tears away.

But that night, he wasn't there with a blunt or tequila. Hell, you'd have even taken the gun. And you should've been ecstatic that he'd finally left you the hell alone, but at this point you had no clue what you were supposed to be feeling.

The only thing you could do was block him. Show him how mad you were. In your past experience, that didn't really matter to him, but you were running out of options.

And you probably shouldn't have done that, because you might have gotten a heads up about Tuesday.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

You should've had your guard up as soon as you saw Nate walk into the school library that Tuesday afternoon, his eyes somehow darker than when he'd asked you to your face, no less, if you wanted to bang his father. You had no clue whether you had to hide or just keep doing what you did.

Flight or flight was fucking useless.

But your guard wasn't up, at least not immediately, because it was Nate. Because he may terrify you and almost kill you, but he'd never hurt you, because he just... worked differently. Things that may make someone psychopathic, he thought were normal. No biggie.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't secretly hoping he'd come back to further provoke you, because not-being-mad at him was kind of a grey area for you. It wasn't your usual state of being.

The moment your guard went up, though, was when Aaron walked in behind him. Hands in his pockets. Did he have a knife in there? Money? Or would he just flip you off?

You didn't want to find out, but it also didn't seem like you had much of a choice.

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

[Eldermourne Theme fades out] Murph: WEL-come back to Eldermourne, everybody! Emily, Jake, and Caldwell: Eldermourne! Murph: I'm your dungeon master Brian Murphy joined by Jake Hurwitz! Jake: The relationship with my son has gone south because I foot-- I put both feet in my mouth. [Emily cackles. Caldwell joins her.] Murph: And ya did it again! Jake: Henry Hogfish! Emily: Okay, this is, we need to tell them behind the scenes! Jake: No. Emily: We literally-- full disclosure, we-- Jake: No. No. No, don't tell them. Emily: We recorded the intros-- we recorded the intros-- Jake: It's an embarrassing story for me and Caldwell. [Caldwell laughs.] Emily: And-- Murph, edit out Jake protesting. Murph, immediately: Okay. [Emily laughs.] He's been silenced. He's been silenced. Caldwell: I am absolved. This rules. Emily: We were-- (laughing) We were recording the intro, and Caldwell realized that he hadn't been recording, so we had to re-record it. But in the original recording, Jake fucked up his rhyme, and he said "oh, good, now I can get my rhyme right." [Everyone laughs.] Caldwell: Nobody's mad at me anymore! It's so good! Murph: Maybe I'll splice in the recording of Jake fucking up the first time. [Emily and Caldwell giggle.] Jake: Wow, that's perfect. Murph: So let's go ahead-- we're gonna go ahead and cut to Jake's first intro. Jake: Okay. Murph: Let's roll that. [Emily cackles. The Eldermourne Theme fades in.] Jake: Uh-- oh fuck, uh-- Relationship with my son has gone south, because I put both feet in my mouth-- I forgot it for a second. [Theme fades out.] Jake: Yeah, good on ya, Caldwell. [The others laugh.] This is not fair! Caldwell's huge fuck up was just shining a light on mine! That's not right! Murph: That's true. That's true. Caldwell: Jake texted me and said "hey, turn off your recording so that I get another shot at it, and I obliged him. Murph: This is your dad forgetting to pick you up, and then you get mugged. This is Caldwell's mistake, and then you are really really suffering for it. [The others laughing.] Um-- Then, of course, we've got Emily Axford! Emily: Living the dream and looking like Liam! Fia Boginya! Murph: Emily, it's even better the second time, hearin' it. Jake: That's fucked up. Caldwell: Crisp, perfect. Emily: Thank you, I didn't mess it up the first time, it's so good. Actually, why don't you go ahead and use whichever one I am better at, okay? Murph: Okay. Two for two. Two for two. Jake: Jesus christ. Caldwell: Can I say my livin' la vida Liam joke again? Cause I thought that was fun. From the first one? Murph: Sure. Um, y'know, as memorable as it was, I completely forgot it. [The others laugh.] Um, and of course, Caldwell Tanner! Caldwell: Oh, Stella Vervain's special little guy who's getting swept up-- Jake: Don't fuck it up! Don't fuck it up! Don't fuck it up! Caldwell: --in her sweet little lies, Zirk Vervain. Emily: Oh my goodness. [Everyone laughs.] Caldwell: Yee-haw! Flawless dismount! All the judges love it. Jake: Swing, batta batta batta batta! Murph: Wow, two 2/2s and one 0/2. It's-- You'd think there'd be some deviation there, but… wow. Jake: Caldwell didn't really get a 2/2. He didn't record. Caldwell: Jake, you could just turn off your Zoom right now, and then we'd have to start recording again. Jake: I need another shot. Murph: This intro's way better than the other one, guys, I'm just saying! This is good. Maybe we should fuck up the show every time. Emily: I honestly was barely paying attention, and then when Jake messed up again, I… could not stop laughing. Murph, laughing: Why were you barely paying attention?? [Everyone laughs.] Emily: I was looking at my spells! Murph: Okay, alright, alright. Caldwell: She's got a lot of spells! Murph: She's got a lot of spells. Emily: I have to remember what I can do. Murph: Alright guys, let's go ahead and get into the recap.

[graves4girls]

Johnny x celeb reader n there’s a party for other celebs etc. and there’s a bunch of paparazzi, a day or two before Johnny n reader had a quarrel and reader shows up to the party in a revenge dress. basically giving a show for all the paparazzi while avoiding johnny

up to u on how it ends! (sorry if my request didn’t make sense😭😭)

☆ paparazzi | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.3k ⚠︎ warning(s): fem!reader

lowkey wanna do a nsfw part 2 but idk i'll think abt it ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

He'd been pissing you off all afternoon, whining about how you shouldn't have even taken the role because your co-star was way too friendly with you. He'd spam his socials with selfies of the two of you, you'd get swarmed by paparazzi for grabbing a coffee together in between scenes, and there were even rumors floating about that you'd dropped Johnny for him. Of course, all of it was utter bullshit to stir up drama and get clicks, but you didn't think it'd get to Johnny the way it did.

"Oh, c'mon. He was all over you the whole goddamn interview!"

You roll your eyes, pressing a manicured finger to your temple. "Jesus Christ, Johnny, I'm not in the mood for this right now. You know there's nothing going on."

He huffs as you plop down on the edge of the bed to pull off your heels. 

"Do I? Cause the more shit that leaks, the more it looks like there is something going on. He's always touching you and shit."

"C'mon Johnny, do you really think I'd cheat on you with some guy I met five months ago?"

He sucks his teeth, staring down at you with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Y'know, I don't really know what to think right now."

You gape at him for a moment, scoffing as you stand from the bed.

"Are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you? Oh my God, you are such an asshole." You move to walk out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"The guest bedroom. Come talk to me when you're done being a dick."

He's still out of the house by the time you're stepping out of the bedroom, the satin of your mini dress hugging every curve perfectly, heels clicking against the shiny tiled floor as you make your way out of the house. You knew he'd be blowing up your phone the minute he gets home and realizes you're gone, but you're too worried about getting to the party on-time to think about it too much, slipping into the sleek black limo parked in front of the house.

You walk down the moonlit street, arm locked around your co-star's as the cameras flash behind the barrier, snapping any and every angle as you wave to the crowd. You stop for a minute to scribble a couple signatures and pose for some selfies before you're escorted into the venue, giggling to the girl clinging to you as you make a bee-line for the bar. You part ways as you lean against the varnished counter, tapping your nails against the wood as you order a drink. 

"Hey! I didn't know you were gonna be here!"

You turn to the voice, grinning at him as you pull him into a short hug.

"I wasn't planning on it actually, but there was a little trouble in paradise so…"

He hums softly, giving you a sympathetic nod. "You're still with Johnny?"

You swipe your drink from the counter, taking a sip as you nod. "Yeah, despite what the media thinks. God, I can't believe people actually think I'd ever cheat on him. It really pisses me off."

"Yeah, it's shit. But you're here to have a good time. C'mon."

You roll your eyes with a small laugh as he pulls you away from the bar, letting him drag you into the crowd.

You're posed for a photo op when your phone buzzes in your clutch, and you can already guess who it is as you step away to check the notification.

where are you   8:05 p.m.

You close the message with a sigh, tucking your phone away to join your friends back in the booth. 

You hadn't noticed the constant buzzing of your phone as you go about the rest of the night, too busy dancing to pay attention to the device. It's only when you step away to touch up your makeup in the bathroom that you pull out your phone, sighing at the onslaught of messages that cover your lock screen.

where are you   8:35 p.m. where are you   9:03 p.m. are you still mad at me   9:42 p.m. missed call   10:01 p.m. call me   10:04 p.m. missed call   10:16 p.m. missed call   10:36 p.m. please call me   10:53 p.m. missed call   11:04 p.m. are you okay?   11:05 p.m.

You're about to turn your phone off when it buzzes again, and you huff out a small sigh as you answer the call, eyeing your nails as his voice cuts through the phone.

"Jesus Christ, why don't you answer your goddamn phone? I've been texting you all night. Where are you?"

You lean over the sink to prod at your makeup in the mirror. "Relax, babe. I was busy."

You can hear him grumble something under his breath. "Relax? My girlfriend disappears and doesn't answer the phone for four hours and I'm not supposed to get worried?" He pauses for a second. "Is that music? Where the hell are you?"

You roll your eyes, fixing your hair.

"I'm at a party, Johnny. Am I not allowed to go out alone?"

"No, I just would've liked a heads-up that you were gonna be out so I didn't freak out. Are you coming home soon?"

You hum as you think for a moment.

"Probably not, so don't wait up for me. I gotta go."

"Wait, are you–"

You hang up before he can finish his sentence, grinning at your friends as you emerge from the bathroom. 

You're sat on one of the uncomfortable bar stools when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and your expression tightens as you turn around.

"What are you doing here?"

He gives you a look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Can we talk for a second?"

You glance between your friends and his cute little frown, sighing as you slip off the stool.

"Make it quick."

He ushers you away from the crowd and out one of the back entrances, eyeing your outfit for a moment before he speaks.

"Since when do you go to these kinds of parties?"

"Since tonight. Why do you care so much that I'm here? It's not like you never go to parties." You lean back against the cool brick of the building, mirroring his posture.

"Look, if this is about last night, I'm sorry. Those stupid rumors got to me and I was being an asshole. I was planning on going out to dinner tonight actually, but obviously that fell through..." He steps closer to wrap a hand around your waist, the other tucking some hair back. "Can we just go home and go to sleep? I really don't want you to be mad at me."

You push his hand down with a small scoff, but you lean into his chest as you stare up at him. "You're so stupid. C'mere."

Your hands come up to cup the sides of his face, pressing a short kiss to his lips that he chases, pressing you against the wall as his other hand settles over your hip. Your arms curl around his neck to pull him impossibly closer, fingers combing through his short hair as he hums against your lips. He draws back for a second to run his eyes all over your figure, raising an eyebrow as you let a small grin pull at your lips.

"Where'd this pretty little thing come from?"

He leans in to drop a couple kisses to your throat, hands slipping over your hips to grab at your ass through the silky satin.

"I was saving it for a special occasion." 

You tug at his hair to pull him away, sticking a quick kiss to his lips as you push a hand against his chest. "Let's get out of here before we get caught."

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HAZBIN WAS SO FUCKING GOOD IM GOING INSANE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKENFKCMKWJRKFNSMSMDMSMDN-

Okay. Okay deep breaths. Time for some cool and collected comentary. Okay.

Putting it under the cut so ppl can avoid spoilers :)

HUSK USED TO BE AN OVERLORD!?!?!?!?!? HELLO!?!?!?!?!? FUCKIN PLOTTWIST OF THE CENTURY WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!?!?

Huskerdust my beloved

SIR PENTIOUS MY BELOVED

Vox was great. I love him he's so fucking cool-

If Vox wasn't already a Tumblr sexyman he's definitely gonna be one now. He's so fucking Onceler coded it's insane.

Velvette was amazing too. It's so funny that she's British lmao I was not expecting that

Velvette is also very Anne Boelyne(like from SIX not from Real Life) coded it's wild. Her part in that song with Carmila was giving so much Don't Lose Your Head

I swear I'll stop comparing them to other characters I SWEAR

Okay but me and my brother are working on a Hazbin Hotel swap AU where we swap the main cast with the overlords and in that AU we swapped Husk and Vox. The Husk used to be an overlord reveal is gonna make that AU soooooo much easier lmao

ADAM IS REALLY GOOD I promised I would stop comparing to other characters but he was giving SO MUCH Hades from Disney's Hercules like its insane

I think we should let Alex Brightman sing rocj and roll more often that song was such a fucking BANGER

SPEAKING OF THE SONGS- oh my god I love the soundtrack so fucking much-

Stayed Gone was a lil less hype then I was expecting but thats okay cuz it was still a banger and I loved the visuals

That song battle between Carmilla and Velvette????? Oh my god??????

Carmilla and Vaggie's song was also amazing but I think I know why they didn't have Stephanie Beatriz sing her own song in Elena of Avalor y'know, girl cannot hold a character voice while singing

LOSER WAS SO FUCKING GOOD- I love Huskerdust so much. I love Keith David so much. Blake Roman is such a phenomenal Angel Dust.

SPEAKING OF all the voice actors are amazing. Blake Roman, Brightman as Pentious and Joel Perez were the ones I was the most worried abt but I loved all their preformances so much it was fucking fantastic

Valentino can go die in a fucking hole <3

The other Vees are cool and fun to watch but I hope Valentino fucking dies

Okay to be fair he's also fun to watch when he's not in the same room as Angel Dust but tHAT DOESNT SUPERSEID MY HATRED FUCK 👏 THAT 👏 GUY 👏👏👏👏

Speaking of the Vees tho I do love their dynamic

My favorite episode was probably Radio Killed the Video Star bcuz of mY BOYS PENTIOUS AND VOX!!!!!!!!

And the most painful episode to watch was- no surprise- Masquerade

That episode was a fucking rollercoaster Jesus fucking Christ...

Those scenes with Angel and Valentino where so fucking visceral... like. Who the fuck wrote that. Who are you. Are you okay. Do you need help-

Tho I'm not sure abt how they're handling the ah- more serious bits of Angel's character. It is WAYYYYYY to early to tell and I think Loser wasn't like. Trying to downplay the situation. But the writers better have been careful moving foreward bcuz I can def see a world where Angel's arc goes very wrong very fast-

Also while we're criticizing: wasn't a fan of the pacing. Especially in episode two. Like I can look past it, but the way they breeze past some plot points kinda bugged me

Otherwise it was sooooooo fucking good man oh my god

THE HUMOR WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN PPL MAKE IT OUT TO BEEEEEE PPL NEED TO STOP SHITTING ON THE COMEDY IN THESE SHOWS MAN-

The gag where Niffty just fucking stopped thinking every time the camera turned on was so fucking good

Niffty in general was really fuckin funny

Alastor was a lot less prominent of a character then I thought he would be but tbh I think that's for the best. He's like Discord from My Little Pony, fun in small doses but if you don't set perameters for how often he appears and when he's willing to help it kinda breaks the show

Chaggie is adorable and I love them <3

I think this show does a really good job balancing the focus on the whole cast! These first 4 episodes seem to be pretty Charlie, Angel and kind of Vaggie heavy but everybody still gets their fair share of attention!

THE ANIMATIOJ OH MY GOD- IT WAS FUCKING PHENOMENAL IM LOSING MY M I N D

Im going feral IM GOING FERAL THIS EXCEEDED MY EXPECTATIONS AKFNVKKENFEKFNDN

I love comedy. I love musicals. I love drama. I love silly characters. I LOVE ANIMATION!!!!!!!

It's like the South Park movie but longer and better animated and IVE BEEN WAITING FOUR FUCKING YEARS-

Just. So excited overall. Can't wait to see where it goes. May make more posts abt my thoughts in tbe future.

[keeksandgigz]

painkiller (part three of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: After a rocky start, you and Eddie seem to be turning over a new leaf, but a small misunderstanding is sure to change that. You help set up the cafe for the Halloween party, which you end up going to after much begging by Colette, you try to make Eddie jealous and a healthy dose of liquid courage helps things get sentimental.

cw: 4k words, jealous!eddie, swearing, allusion to smut, reader being essentially a sensitive baby, some miscommunication, eddie being a softie for reader, no y/n, no physical description of reader, boys being silly, mention of throwing up/ retching, drinking (everyone is of age), it gets a little bit fluffy towards the end

read part 1 here, part 2 here

if you wanna be added to my taglist the form is here

"You guys fucked??" Colette's voice booms in the car.

"Jesus Christ, Colette, the whole freeway didn't need to know that. And no, we didn't fuck" you take the exit that brings you into Daisy Street, the one towards the cafe.

"Then what? Steve keeps talking about how you guys look at each other like you wanna run to the back and fuck like bunnies" she nudges at you and you roll your eyes.

"Remind me to ask Steve to drive you to work next time, since you guys are such good friends" you smile at her.

"Yeah, whatever, so what happened?" she nibbles at her bagel.

You take a deep breath in. There are no secrets between you and Colette. "Well, he... spanked me" you hear her gasp, without giving her time to start talking you keep going; "Then he took me to his office and fingered me, but he didn't let me um...finish because I wouldn't apologize to him. Then he drove me home" you say, all in one breath.

"You kinky bitch" she laughs, a hearty laugh. After she comes down from her fit, she continues, almost like a phantom hand slapped some sense into her. "But what an asshole! Because you wouldn't apologize to him? And he drove you home?"

"I swear he's so confusing. He wouldn't let me take the bus." You just got your car back after two days without it because of a leak. You pull up into the parking lot.

"Shit, he's outside" you whisper. He's sitting on the curb, cigarette in hand, scrolling through his phone. Something tells you he isn't there to make drinks today. His hair is down and he's wearing chunky rings in both hands. You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it.

As much of an asshole as he is, you've been replaying the night before on a loop for the whole morning. You swallow.

"Too late to turn back and make a run for it" Colette quips as you park the car as further as possible from him.

"So what, do I just go in like 'Hey fancy seeing you here, remember when your fingers were in me last night?' or do I just ignore him?" you groan as you open your car door, grabbing your bag and jacket.

"Maybe wait for him to speak to you? I dunno. He should apologize, that was fucked" Colette says, closing the car door.

You both walk towards the cafe's front door. Eddie catches your eye immediately. Fuck it, your shift wouldn't start until two- thirty.

"Col, I'll meet you inside. Thanksgiving menu is launching soon, Steve'll have your head if you don't walk in right this second" you joke, she just nudges your shoulder and winks at you, as she disappears inside the cafe.

"Y'know" Eddie speaks, taking a long drag out of his cigarette "you shouldn't gossip about me when I can hear you from around the corner. I take it she knows?" he exhales a cloud of smoke, making you take a ragged breath at the way the smoke falls from his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't overhear my conversations. Ever thought about that? And so what if she knows? Steve probably knows too" you spit.

"I usually don't tell Steve about the girls I fuck. Last night wasn't even a fuck, really. I just showed you what was so incredibly obvious to the naked eye, sweetheart" he puts the cigarette to his lips again.

"Which is?" you don't have patience for the slow drawl of his voice, sounding like he's just woken up. The way his fingers wrap around the cigarette, his lips puckering up as he sucks into the filter. You shiver.

"That we wanna fuck each other. Don't tell me that you're not looking at me and not thinking about what I did to you last night" Gotcha. He smiles around the cigarette.

"You really do think too highly of yourself" you sit on the curb, keeping a distance between you two.

"I've been thinking about last night the whole morning" he blurts out, putting his cigarette out on the sole of his boots “It was good, but you were kind of a bitch about me not letting you cum. Maybe you should rethink about apologizing” he smirks towards you.

“Well, I don't think last night should have happened at all" you shrug, pretending like the way he's playing with his chain bracelet isn't affecting you. He turns towards you.

"Is that so?" he says, voice a bit lower, gravelly. You inhale, then nod. 

He takes out a stack of black papers from a folder in his messenger bag, you take the chance to change the subject.

"What's that?" you ask, trying to peek over the the wall of black posters.

"The posters for the Halloween party next week. My friend Nancy just designed and printed them out for me. I scheduled you on Friday to come in and help with decorating, I'll pay you extra, since it's not in your job description. I'll talk to Jim about it" it's a lie, he just wants to spend more time with you.

"Am I required to come to this thing?" you interject, taking one of the posters in your hands, it's very well designed.

"Well, no. But the staff is invited anyway and I'm gonna be at the bar making free drinks, once a year we turn our bad boy coffee bar into a, y'know bar bar" he says, a movement of his ringed hand follows it.

"Oh, so you're a bartender too? What concoction are you gonna brew for this party, Mr. Alchemist?" you ask, chin propped on your hands. A flirtatious lilt to the way you talk, you bat your eyelashes.

"Guess you gotta come to find out" he winks and stands up, opening the side door to his van.

"Where are you going?" you ask, squinting to look at his face, the sun in your eyes.

"These posters aren't gonna hang themselves around town, are they? I just came here to hang one on the bulletin board and one on the door. Wanna come?"

You're not sure how to feel. He's suddenly being nice to you? And you wanna say yes so badly for some reason, maybe because you're tired of fighting with him and he seems like an actually cool person to be around?

"My shift starts in five minutes" you say, standing up and dusting off your butt.

He shrugs his shoulders "Consider this your shift? You're still technically helping me with the cafe" his tone is bordering a whine, can this man be that desperate to want you to come with him?

You really are pondering your options, it doesn't feel normal that you'd want to go with him instead of a chill shift without Eddie Munson's hovering eyes.

"You coming or not? And the pun was intended" he chuckles to himself as you hit him in the arm.

"You're an asshole" Alright, fuck it.

"You win" you grumble, jumping on the passenger seat of his van. The same van you were in the night before, cursing the man because he had left you unsatisfied.

In the back of the van there are stacks of boxes full of prints. You reach for the black poster he was holding earlier.

"What's 'Corroded Coffin'?"

"The band I'm in" he says, a creeping smile on his lips. Nonchalant, like he hadn't dropped a heavy piece of Eddie lore.

"'Kay so, you're a barista, a bartender, a business owner and you're in a band?!" eyes wide in disbelief as a smug expression appears on the boy's lips.

"The four b's, baby" he laughs "Me, Jeff, Gareth and another dude have been in this band since high school, tried to strike out but uhhhh different plans I guess" his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

"Lemme guess, you're the drummer?" you ask, finding yourself oddly at ease as he drives the car around town.

He shakes his head, his ratty curls moving around his face "Lead guitar and singer" lips pulled taut in a thin smile, face scrunched up.

"Shut the fuck up, I hate you! That's why you're so fucking slappable" he laughs at your comment as he thrums his ringed fingers along with Love me like a Reptile on the steering wheel. You gulp.

"That's why you're so good with your fingers, then?" it escapes you before you can even register what your brain is computing, but he's turning on his indicators to pull over, because he's quite literally doubled over with laughter.

"Jesus I did a number on you, didn't I sweetheart?" he says in the midst of his fit, and you can feel yourself getting hot, embarrassed, like he's making fun of you.

You really thought that things between you two had smoothed over, but the way he's laughing at you has your cheeks growing in anger, the cockiness exuding from him doesn't spur you on or stoke whatever fire you're kindling, rather it makes you feel humiliated.

You grab your bag and coat, immediately opening the latch to the door of his van. Eddie stops laughing immediately.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asks, head jerking towards you.

“If you’re gonna be an asshole about it, then you can hang your fucking posters by yourself. I’m going back to the store to do what I am actually paid for. Fuck you, Eddie” and he barely has time to reply before you slam the door of his van and you book it back towards the cafe.

The shift feels uneventful, until Colette and Steve take you to the kitchen to sample the menu for the party.

The boy fixes the glasses on his nose as he shows you strawberry brain jellies, spider falafels, mini spiderweb pizzas, and the sketch of a big Halloween cake.

“That was Steve’s idea, actually. It’s blueberry and cream cheese filling on one tier and then I think custard on the second one. You’re gonna die, Steve’s custard is actually to die for” and he blushes at that, a quick brush of his face as his eyes twinkle at the compliment.

Steve and Colette have been spending a lot of time together after all, you chuckle to yourself as you reach for the spoons with the cream filling samples. Colette was not wrong, that custard is an incredible explosion of lemon and milk and vanilla, you're astounded that Steve and Colette were able to pull this off in such a short time.

There isn't much you can tell them, as their culinary talent greatly exceeds yours, wondering why they didn't ask Eddie to do the tasting, who seemed nowhere to be found for the rest of your shift.

On Friday, he seems to be quite busy with various movers and decoration people to even pay attention to you as Jeff stands on a ladder with you yelling "higher!" every time he tries to hang a string of lights.

"Well, I'm a barista, not a fucking architect" he yells from atop of the ladder, as Gareth rolls out a bunch of boxes sitting in a cart.

"What's that?" you ask, still making Jeff mess with the purple string lights “to the right, man!”

You hear him groan.

"Our twelve- foot skeleton" he replies, taking the plastic parts out "good thing our ceilings are tall" he snickers as Jeff finishes setting up the lights and comes down.

"Why the fuck do you have a twelve- foot skeleton?" you lean against the ladder, watching him take the bone parts out of the boxes and setting up the first few bits.

"Eddie thought it would be hilarious if we got one our first year of doing these Halloween parties. We usually get the skeleton something stupid to wear, this year it's a giant clown nose" he laughs as you move the ladder towards him to help facilitate the building of this fucking monster of a decoration.

By the time night rolls, the coffee machines have been removed for the party and replaced with liquors, spirits, glasses and shakers.

Finally Eddie comes out of his office, hair mussed out of his messy bun, eyes puffy and tired as his eyes widen at the decorated party room around him. 

Red, orange and purple lights hang around the perimeter of the walls, along with orange tulle fabric and various decorations on the theme of bats, skeletons and pumpkins. The twelve- foot skeleton stood tall in that stupid clown nose, at which he laughed at. He shot you a pained look before leaning on the bar counter. 

“Wow you guys, you’ve really outdone yourselves this year” he mutters, taking a close look around at all the decorations. 

“It was the girls, really, they’ve just been bossing us around the whole day” Gareth responds “we’ve just been their lackeys” he laughs. 

“Regardless of that, I just wanted to thank you all for the splendid job, we should be expecting around 150 people in here tomorrow night, hope you guys are ready to party. Now get the fuck out of here” Eddie says as he motions for you and everyone else to leave as the guys protest “go get some rest, it’s literally midnight”

There’s a clamor of voices as you vacate the cafe, discussing costumes for the party, how fucked up everyone’s gonna get- Eddie being the last to leave and lock the door. 

Before heading to his van, though he surpasses you, walking to your car. 

“I trust you’ll be there tomorrow? You must be fun at parties, right?” he snickers, you roll your eyes. 

“Sorry, Ed, previous engagement I have to attend to. Devastated to be missing the party of the decade, I’ll send a postcard” you unabashedly lie, there’s no reason you should be going to that party.

You give him a sour smile and head towards your car, as he stands stunned in the middle of the parking lot.

Without much ceremonies, you and Colette get in the car. 

“Are you actually not going tomorrow?” your friend is outraged, a betrayed tone tinging her words. 

“I dunno, I really don’t wanna see Eddie’s stupid face, plus I don’t have a costume” you shrug, entering the freeway. 

You could do what you’ve always done since college- a sexy cat, make Eddie sizzle a bit, an unspoken revenge towards that unsatisfactory night where he refused to push you off the edge. 

You don’t know what this is, whatever game you both are playing, a never ending tug of war of power and stupid fucking remarks at the expense of one another- why can’t you just sleep with him and get it over with? 

“I’ll get you a fucking costume, babe! Just please come, Steve is being really weird to me and trying to ask me out, I’ll buy you lunch, dinner- anything” she begs, and you don’t see why Steve asking her out should be an issue, he’s handsome and the way he looks at her and the way she talks about him seems to be special, something you’ve never had in a person. 

“Colette, I honestly do not see the problem in Steve trying to ask you out. You like him!” you bang your hands on the steering wheel in frustration, why can’t anything ever be easy?

“I like him in the sense that I want to fuck him, not go out with him. Besides, Gin isn’t going and Chrissy has a midterm Monday so she’s gonna have to dip early. Do you really wanna leave me in the middle of a pool of nerdy men?” she’s whining and pleading with you, it almost makes you fold. Almost. 

“C’mon, I wouldn’t dream of doing that to you” she bats her big eyes, and she’s right, she wouldn’t do that to you because she knows that men put you off, being surrounded by them even so. 

“Alright, fine, and you don’t have to get me a costume. Sexy cat is the way to go” you grin at her as she gets out of the car blowing you a kiss. 

“I love love love you, I’ll see you tomorrow” Colette runs inside after that. 

You can’t say no to her. 

And that’s why you find yourself in the midst of countless amounts of people, a third martini and a couple shots in and Colette is nowhere to be found. 

Eddie, on the other hand, is at the bar. Tight, black, form fitting shirt, his face looking pale and pasty as a rivulet of what looked like fake blood dripped out of his mouth. You could only see it when he smiled, but he had glued fake fangs on his incisors- a vampire, how original. 

You approach him at the bar, mind already loosened and buzzed, as he’s pouring a drink out. 

“Was expecting something more original than a vampire from you” you scream over the music. A smile creeps on his lips, and you have to admit, the fangs are really doing it for you. 

“I was expecting nothing less from you, though.Thought you weren’t coming?” he leans against the bar counter, his arms flexing from the exertion of shaking drinks for the past hour and a half. You stare, and he’s sure you are.

“Didn’t wanna come, Colette begged me to save her from Steve asking her out, so now I’m here” you take one last swig out of your martini glass “that’s really good, actually, can I have another one?”

Eddie shakes his head “Steve’s asking Colette out? When was this?”

You shrug “apparently it’s been going on for a while. Honestly, I don’t know how she does it, I would not be able to resist Steve’s cute little puppy eyes” and here it is. The drunken ramble. 

“Honestly I don’t know how you all do it, I’d be ogling at Steve and not getting any work done, actually. Have you seen his arms?” you giggle, maybe at an attempt to make Eddie jealous, maybe because those were your actual thoughts. 

Either way, that made Eddie’s stomach turn in a way that he wasn’t liking. How you were staring at Steve, in his Marty McFly costume, the tight pants and the coiffed hair- biting your lip like you weren’t talking about his best friend.

He chalked it up to drunkenness, the intoxication vivid on your blushy cheeks, as jealousy bubbled in the back of his mind, a small version of himself in his head wishing you’d talk about him like that. 

“Yeah, I’m not making you any more martinis” he says, a dry chuckle escaping him. 

“Boo, first you don’t make me cum and then you take the martinis away from me? You’re an absolute bore, Eddie Munson” and you fake yawn with that, a silly laugh follows it. 

“Sweetheart, you might not want to talk about that in a room full of people” he leans against the counter, and his fangs are looking really good in the glistening purple party lights.

“Are you suggesting we go somewhere private to talk about it?” you wiggle your eyebrows, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll. 

Taking care of your drunk self for the rest of the night is the last thing he wants to do. 

“No, I’m suggesting you go home. You’re drunk” he yells, shaking another drink and pouring it into a cup.

“I’m actually fine, thank you. I’m gonna go talk to Steve” pettily you stand up, turning away from him and booking it towards Steve, who is trying to talk to Colette. 

You don’t make it far, though as you go back to the bar wobbling, stomach churning with bile threatening to leave your mouth. 

“Eddie, I don’t feel so good” and he damns himself for how fast he comes around the bar to drag you to the employee bathroom. 

You’re kneeled on the black tile, dress hiking up your thighs as Eddie holds your hair as you fight for your life bent over the toilet. 

Eddie’s hand is running up and down your spine, the thin shirt making you feel every ridge and callus, as he feels your back flex and relax with every retch.

“It’s okay, let it out” he says, every time you tense up. You’re sobbing in between. 

Cries of “I’m sorry, Eddie” and “It’s okay, I got it, you can go” echo in the tiled room, but he stays. His hand firmly planted on your back, caressing, a stoic expression on his face when you emerge, finally done and a bit more clear- headed. 

“You good to stand up?” he asks, you nod meekly as he hooks his arms around yours, holding you up to walk to the sink. He opens the cabinet and takes out a little bottle of mouthwash, still holding an arm around you to help you stand. 

“Wash your mouth, then take some of this” you watch him bewildered as he opens the faucet, and you lean over the sink, the fresh water is a relief against the acidity your taste buds have had to endure, not caring that it would wipe some of your makeup off. 

“‘M sorry, Eddie” you mumble in a whine, between gurgling the tap water and spitting it out. 

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you home after this” he says, as he turns off the faucet and feeds you the blue liquid, watching you rinse and gargle it, spitting it out. 

“I’m okay now” you sigh, defeat in your voice as you escape from his grasp to sit down on the tiled floor. 

Concern tinges his face as he runs to sit next to you “Do you have to throw up again?” you shake your head. 

He looks at you, eyes glossy and a bit teary, your nose and cheeks reddened from the alcohol, or from the exertion of throwing up, your lips swollen. God, he really wants to kiss you. 

“Thank you, Eddie” it’s a whisper, ashamed as you look at him. Fangs and all, with the bright white fluorescents hitting him, hair mussed up and sweaty and a look in his eyes that makes you soften a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s- uh- no problem” he mumbles, he sees you shiver. He wants to put an arm around you, give you his jacket that he left in his office, but he wouldn’t dare leave you for fear of you leaving him and not coming back. 

So you just hold yourself flush against him, he’s still warm from the crowded room of bodies and smells like a smoky cologne, leathery with a hint of coffee. The fluorescent lights buzz and it’s the only sound in the bathroom and he tries to fight the urge to not put an arm around you, but when he does, you look at him. Big brown eyes staring into yours, bewildered and a little relieved, you haven’t run away yet. 

The makeup around your eyes is a bit smudged from the sobbing, stray glitter under your bottom eyelashes, he silently puts his thumb on it, getting black make-up and glitter all over his finger as his hand rests on your cheek. You blink. 

The breath in his chest is trapped, waiting with bated breath for you to come to your senses, leave him angry on the bathroom floor, like you did a few days before. 

Instead you stay, as you move in and kiss him.

taglist: @reidsbtch, @vintagehellfire, @fckyeahlames, @lavendermunson, @sunnythefriendlyghost, @onegirlmanytales, @aphrogeneias, @cryingglightningg, @munsonsuccubus, @strangereads, @gothvamp1973, @boomitsallie1, @thottywizard, @ali-r3n, @reysorigins, @yunirgo, @stqrgirl3, @neville-is-my-husband, @keikoraven, @minorlystuck13, @seexyyprincess, @sunnythespookyghost, @capricornrisingsstuff, @mandyjo8719, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @hellfirenacht, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @strangerstilinski,

[allwormdiet]

Extermination 8.1

Jesus Christ. Okay. Let's get this going.

Y'know, I wonder if Taylor might be cynical about human nature or something, weird

Hey Dragon, very cool to meet you in the chrome.

Aww, she's starstruck

Hey Weld, cool to meet you, wish it was under less dire circumstances

See, the nice thing about the Empire showing up to an Endbringer fight is that the Endbringer can then massacre a bunch of fucking Nazis. Totally victimless deaths, and no hand-wringing about whether it's right or wrong to take them down.

If I was giving performance notes to Leviathan for this showing I would have to criticize that he didn't kill more of them, frankly

Hey kids, sorry some of you are about to get slaughtered in a fight you're way underqualified for

Hey Panacea, I'll see you later when you decide to exacerbate Skitter's paranoia in revenge for the bank job and make this arc go from bad to worse for her

So I know Legend is publicly gay from fandom osmosis, but what I don't know in this moment is whether Wildbow had decided on that beforehand and Taylor is currently ogling a gay dude, or if he decided on it after writing this. I guess it doesn't strictly matter, but it leaves me curious how much of this was laid out in advance, especially with some other writing decisions that are gonna come up this arc

So Myrddin straight up has a wizard gimmick and that's kind of wild, but not nearly as wild as the fact that a Protectorate cape apparently flew off the handle sufficiently far enough to yell a racial slur multiple times in public. Like holy shit that is some radioactive PR.

Also, while you do not in fact have to hand it to the Empire Eighty-Eight, it is very funny of Kaiser to taunt Bastion like this

So that's the Triumvirate rounded out, and... how to put this. There's something that's almost sweet about Taylor's thoughts diverting to think about the "who would win" discussions about heroes. Like, I dunno, it's a cute insight into the world. Maybe she used to have those conversations with Emma back when they were younger.

Y'know, I'm constantly wary of government-employed superheroes as a concept, but frankly i think a corporate superhero team is even more hair-raising. The Christian superheroes could break in either direction, either they're genuinely good people who take their faith seriously or they're just self-righteous pukes. Knowing the general tone of this story, I'd be surprised if it was the first one.

Hey Parian, hey Flechette, looking forward to your later contributions

What the hell is Bambina's deal, even. Does she have some kinda thing going on like Babydoll from BTAS, or what. I don't know if I've heard the name come up before.

Grue, Regent, c'mon now

Also yeah Taylor, I think you sufficiently scared the absolute bejeezus out of Sundancer when you made this story really earn a content warning for eye horror.

Okay so I did not realize that Narwhal was gonna have a goddamn exhibitionist thing going on here, what the hell. Can you just get away with whatever as long as you're not showing your nipples or genitals? Did it truly never come up that she could maybe wear pants to cover up a little bit?

So I knew previously that Legend is a notoriously poor public speaker, but the fact that he just straight up says "best case scenario twenty-five percent of you are dead before sunset" is ridiculous. Kristen Applebees could give a more inspiring speech than this.

Everyone in that room must be questioning their life choices tbh

Current Thoughts

I know they all volunteered, and I know that there's a protectiveness that comes with fighting for your hometown, but Jesus Christ there should be an age limit for fighting Endbringers. Signing up the teenagers to fight Nazis is already a bit rough, but the kaiju who is going to kill a bunch of them feels like someone should have pulled them back. It might technically have been the wrong decision given how critical kids like Flechette and Skitter end up being, but at least then I'd feel less judgmental of the people running this show.

Anyhow. God Taylor just keeps ending up being lonely, huh? Can't escape it, poor girl.

[that-one-enby-ranger]

It's Sir Dr Brian Harold May's birthday today and I absolutely love and adore him, and I have been posting stuff on my Queen sideblog @rogers-maraccas, but I felt like posting this long rant on here because I FEEL LIKE IT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME AND I WANT ALL YOU FUCKERS TO HERE ABOUT THIS BEAUTIFUL AMAZING MAN!

Out of all four members of Queen, I do not have a favourite, I love them all equally, not just for their music, but for them, because they are all great. But today is Brian's day, so we must discuss him. Next week will be Rogers birthday.

Firstly, Brian's talent is absolutely incredible and playing guitar like his is one of the things that keep me from quitting guitar. I watch him play guitar solos and I see the way his fingers move and how they can just, how the fuck do I say this without it sounding weird, finger the strings and he can move them up and down and jesus Christ this sounds weird but I don't fucking care because it's fucking Brian May.

I will admit that he is not THE best guitar player in the world, there are definitely some, specifically Jimi Hendrix that tops Brian, but to me, in my opinion, he is still one of the best. HE IS SO FUCKING TALENTED. And its not just guitar, he can write songs, he can sing really good, his voice is amazing and so gentle and soft and I love it. He has solo albums that are really good and I definitely recommend listening to them. My fav solo album of his is Back to the Light, and even though I don't have an absolute favourite, I'm Scared and Resurrection are definitely some of my favourites, and Let Your Heart Rule Your Head gives me the same sort of vibes as '39 which is just one of the amazing Queen songs Brian wrote.

Speaking of songs, Brian has written so many hits for Queen, as has the rest of them, but this post is focusing on Brian:

Some great songs he's written that I can think of just at the top of my head:

Fat Bottomed Girls, We Will Rock You (y'know, StOmP stOmP cLaP), '39, Now I'm here, Stone Cold Crazy, Sweet Lady, Tie Your Mother Down, Teo Torriate (Let Us Cling Together), Who Wants To Live Forever and Headlong.

Plus the, in my opinion, very underrated songs that are fucking great that he wrote:

White Queen (As it Began), the story behind the song is both very sweet and sad on its own, Father to Son, Brighton Rock, It's Late, Mother Love, Dead on Time, Dreamers Ball (absolutely fucking love this song. It's so good), Dancer, Dragon Attack, Sail Away Sweet Sister, Save Me, Tear It Up and Is This the World We Created.

That's not even all of them.

And his lyrics are so fucking great as well, as are the rest of the bands songs, but just look at some of these beautiful lyrics.

"Take me to the room where the green's all green" and "Take me to the room where the reds all red" from Dragon Attack

All of '39

"You call me sweet like I'm some kind of cheese" from Sweet Lady

"She used to be a woman with a hotdog stand" from Headlong.

Lyrics master right there.

I am aware that all the band chipped in to write The Show Must Go On, which is in my opinion the best Queen song and I could go on and entire different rant about that, but the lyrics and meaning behind it is amazing, and you get beautiful gems from those lyrics like "my wings are painted like the wings of butterflies, fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die. I can fly my friends"

AAAAAAAA HE IS SO FUCKING AMAZING

Oh my gosh and we can't forget that he is incredibly smart. He has a fucking PhD in astrophysics for fucks sake, he's a doctor. I remember reading somewhere that his IQ is 180, which is just seven IQ point thingys lower than Sheldon Cooper. If he wasnt a very famous guitarist then he most likely would have been a very successful astrophysicist.

Plus he's fucking knighted.

He has also accomplished so much outside of Queen and his solo stuff. He loves animals is an animal rights activist, publicly speaking against fox hunting and culling of badgers. He fucking loves badgers. And lots of different animals. I have multiple photos of Brian with animals.

He helped open the Mercury Phoenix Trust charity which was opened in honour of Freddie Mercury to help fight AIDS.

He bought a bunch of land where trees were going to get cut down to build houses and saved those trees and is now called May's Wood.

He would go on TV after Freddie died and stand up for Freddie and speak up against the press and all the negative very untrue things people were saying about Freddie. (Just pointing out he is not the only one that did this, Roger also did an amazing job on speaking out)

There is a lot more things than I mentioned but you get the point and my brain is blanking.

OH YEAH, he played live at the top of Buckingham palace.

Also when asked by someone if we would ever hear what happened inside of the legendary Queen parties. His response was just a couple seconds of silence and then...

"no."

And of course we can't have a Brian appreciation post without mentioning the Red Special. The Red Special is Brian's guitar that he's had ever since he was a kid, and he's used it at most shows (I find the fact that he didn't have it during Live Aid is a fucking crime). He made the guitar with his dad when he was a kid. I can never remember how old he was if he was 12 or 15 or something. Him and his dad made it out of some old furniture or something like that where the wood was really old and pretty much rotting. It's fucking amazing.

And he improvised and experimented and used a six pence coin as a pick and it gives it a unique sound. One time my sister and I was in a car and I was listening to my own music and my sister told me Queen was on the radio so I listened and she had never heard that song before and she heard the bit with the guitar solo and I asked her how she knew it was Queen and she said she recognised the sound of Bri's guitar. If his guitar broke I would cry for him and the Red Special.

And I know this is talking about Brian, but I just feel the need to point how good of an actor Gwilym Lee is. He played Brian in the movie, and he was the most accurate out of the entire cast in my opinion. When Brian showed Bohemian Rhapsody to his kids they thought that his voice was the actual Brian's voice just overlapping and Gwilym was lip sinking. He wasn't, he's just that good.

I've been watching Bohemian Rhapsody while writing this, and I started this towards the start of the movie and now I'm up to the bit where Freddie finally ditches Paul so I'm gonna stop here.

Just remember that Brian May is an amazing man who is extremely talented and kind and has done extraordinary things, even more than on here. If I ever met him I would tell him that and tell him I love him more than I can say and maybe even more than some of my friends and that he has changed my life in ways I can't even understand.

What a man.

Extra:

Absolutely adorable

[defectivefanboy]

Hey there! I’ve read a few of your posts now and I truly enjoy your writing, you’re very good at it ^^

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

If not, that’s completely alright! I hope you have a great rest of your day <3

~ 🕷️🕸️

yessir!! this is actually the first time (and second for good measure) that I watched Beetlejuice fully through.

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and I don't mind female readers on my blog, I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer fuck off????????????????? ew.

C/W: Cursing, Mentions of Pervertedness, its Beetlejuice, You're canonical Jesus Christ /j, or am I?, Dark humor, Possessive Alastor, Mentions of Bite marks, Dirt ball reader, just reader being gross here and there, nothing too much, youre Beetlejuice, reader has universal rizz

Notes: If you read the C/W warnings it was real late leave me alone. you'll understand when you get there. writing this my mind kept straying and just wanted to write Alastor love because god holy fuck I love him. Im an actual slut for domestic alastor I could write him all day.

The Radio Show...

Oh he's truly interested in you. Not remotely romantic or even platonically, but he is interested (at least at first)

Lets be real quick, he knows hes in hell, but what IN the hell is he looking at.

And what was that outfit you were wearing??? Did you just get out of prison prom???

But your first meeting with him was... interesting to say the least

But then again I think all your interactions are interesting (always more, never less)

But damn. He just had to think the 'sinner' was new to hell and could easily get a quick bite

Poor Alastor really thought the 'sinner' that looked around hell like a lost child as he strolled up with his uncanny smile

Last thing he expected was a jumpy, sporadic, and unfortunately a bit more then a little bit of a pervert.

The record stopped more than a few time at your comments–- Sorry Alastor.

And it had only been a few minutes of meeting you (rip)

And to be honest with you. come here. little closer

He did not know what in all of hell you were trying to pitch to him

He couldn't even get a word in with how fast you talked

And how many voices you did, you basically had a conversation to yourself.

"Ghost can't even scare humans away anymore, pfft. Can't you believe that shit. The last jack offs wouldn't even call me, I had to get some human girl to do it. Is it weird it happened twice? Second time her mom was dead! Gets funnier each time."

Oh?

Humans?

Now you have his interest

And you were able to travel to the human world

"So you're a hell born demon then, correct?" Alastor asked quirking a brow at the questionable individual in front of him, who quickly stopped talking to, well, themselves and snapped their head to him. They seemed to had just gotten here... or gotten back, as their clothes were slightly tussled and their hair was flying everywhere

With a quick dusting of your clothes you straightened your posture. Clearing your throat you spoke in a flat monotone voice. "Well, no actually, uhm, I was born in a manger inside of a barn, my mother, was a virgin and my step father Jospeh was a real piece of work let me tell you that. Died for your sins, y'know, should be thanking me."

This is the first time the radio show had gone radio silent... before he walked away.

Alastor had met a lot of demons, probably killed even more.

Hell he has even put up with that horny spider, but this was the first time he had to take a breather from another sinner? demon? enigma?

But damn it all to hell, he was curious

He had been for so long and he had only interacted with lower hellborn demons.

The occasional Goetia or hell royal would make a public appearance, but that that was all.

Never had he interacted with someone who went from hell to the human world on the daily

The first few meetings he truly tried to keep his distance, keyword tried

But you can only keep a person who teleports around at a distance for some long

Though it to end in you being pushed back by his microphone when you got a bit too close on accident more often then not

But overall he enjoys each of your meetings, enjoy being used loosely

He was more interested in the ever changing world of humans

You only get as knowledgeable of the new world as it comes in, but you have to find them

So having a way to always keep updated he truly enjoyed.

He kinda saw you as, well, while he would say a mole, as you get him information

Not that you honestly realize, you kinda just talk about random shit

He sees you as well, as uh, ahem...

"Quite the squirrelly fellow you are, aren't you?" He quipped with a smile on his face. The both of you walking along one of the many roads of hell as you talked about your latest excursion to the human world. Giving him a confused look you gave him a side eye a you spoke. "Now, what do you mean by that, hm? I don't storage tree nuts in my cheeks, I storage metal nuts in them." Taking your hand you drug into your cheek and pulled out a rusted nut before offering it to him. In which he squatted away with his microphone.

"No."

Alastor in or out of a relationship now seems like the calm one out of the pair whenever you two are together

And he always has a tilt to his head whenever he's with you as if he's always curious about your next move (well bc he honestly is)

Getting into a relationship is simple to him, but not to you.

He had to explain a few times (many times) to you that you two were on a date while out. Thank the lord he has more patience then he let's on

Truly he's only patient with you after learning he'll get no where either way

He tried threatening at one point, but it didn't work when you tried getting him to work for you in the human world.

Spoiler alert: that also didn't work

Alastor did tried to ask you out in a traditional way. Taking you to dinner, albeit at a cannibal restaurant, he really didn't know what you ate

He was disgusted when he found out, almost gagged, had to take a moment for himself

But he tried asking you out in a nice, classy, quiet place.

Spoiler again: didnt work

His question when right over your head.

"Go out? Aren't we already out? What we doing then? How more out do you wanna be? Gotta say though, never been to a place this fancy, must got some walking cash, huh? You know we could start a business together I be the brains, face and you can be..." You droned on as your hand flared around as you spoke. Alastor stared at you as static rumbled from his chest, one eye twitching in annoyance. Sighing he shook his head as he stared with a smile. Maybe you didn't understand what he was asking, or maybe you did. To be honest he doesn't know how much you know, but maybe letting you go on about whatever it is you're planning and get a deal out of you.

Nothing big, just a small pact that you two are "partners."

Cheeky Bastard.

He did tell you eventually someday, he's not heartless

Don't mention that it was after he had convinced you to move in his home (or apartment?? he staying at the hotel?? like??)

But it's another story for getting you to take a shower or a bath.

While Alastor isn't a clean freak or anything he much rather keep his house clean and smell free.

Alastor had quite a few sleepiness nights when you decided to sneak into his bed without a shower.

He almost banned you from the house until you agreed to take a shower after 'work'

now onto the good part

While he doesnt enjoy physical touch from anyone, only part taking in it when he's making someone uncomfortable

He settled on the fact you were gonna keep making every effort to get into his personal space

You only found out he enjoyed having you near him when your items from the guest room you had been staying in were now in his room

Be it having a hand placed on the middle of your back or letting you fiddle with his fingers as you talk

He always finds a way to get a touch in on a daily basis

What can he say? he likes to have a hold on what's his

That's another thing

He's a possessive lover, or person in general but ignore that right now

He just doesn't understand

Why do you have so much rizz

Both sinners and hell born demons seem to love you

And he hates it

Loathes it

If we wanted to get Nsfw real quick

He likes to leave bites and marks on you so even humans know where you belong <3

Going back to sfw

On the outside, beyond the walls of his home. He's well, he's Alastor

Cunning, Cruel, and Evil

But inside? .......Hey Siri, can you domestic a deer?

We already know he enjoys cooking, his mothers recipes are always a hit. He does have to convince you to eat something if it's new.

But he's decently domestic within the comfort of his own walls. As domestic as he can be will a feral dog in his home now. At least you're potty trained, right? Right??

He always enjoyed being alone, especially when he needed a break.

But as weird as it was for the first few months

Going to bed alone in a quiet home, everything neat and orderly was always a treat for the

just to wake up to a god awful mess like a hurricane had hit only the inside of the house.

Thankfully he's unable to fully freak out when he feels the weight of a body laying on him.

Arms wrapped securely in place as he moved around trying to view the full scope of the mess.

The look of defeat only rested on his face for a moment before he was pulled down by striped arms.

"What are staring at, red?..." You said half asleep as you pulled on the back up his shirt collar. "it's still too early to worry about the mess. Come back to bed" He gently shook his head in disgust opening his mouth to speak before getting cut off by a strong pull of his shirt. "I was setting up... sandworm traps. Couldn't't let them get my dearest deer." Alastor gave you a questioning look wanting to ask, but knowing better not too.

Sighing he let himself relax back into the comforter and wrap his arms loosely around as you laid right back on top of him. One of his hands softly treaded through your messy hair causing you to sigh and melt into his body. It was a quiet few moments until he had a passing thought.

"Wait... deer with an A, correct? Correct??"

He wasn't getting an answer from you anytime soon...

[multifandombullshitbabes]

Random Merlin Rewatch: Where a random number generator gives me a season and an episode from BBC Merlin; and then I comment on it as I go.

Today's episode: Season 4 Episode 7 - The Secret Sharer

Before I start, let me just say and I have done my uni exam and that's why I haven't been posting these even though I really wanted to. Not joking, I had to let my fingers rest 'cause I wrote all my notes and shit. It was a lot. Anyways, let's fucking do this.

LET'S GO INTRO!!!! YOUNG MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOH

EWWWWW WHY IS AGRAVAINE TOUCHING MORGANA LIKE THAT I'M GONNA PUKE BRO

Damn, Morgana's eyes are so GREEN, that makeup really does it for her. Kinda funny she's wearing it to bed though. Girl.

GOOD LORD MAMA, HELLO

Agravaine needs to chill the fuck out. Every time he's on screen he gives me the ick. Ugh. Also Morgana looked so damn paranoid talking about Emrys. "He knows everything. All our plans, all our secrets." Girl.... RIP Morgana you would've loved therapy (or not).

Ohhh... interesting Morgana's reaction to Agravaine's accusation of Gaius, saying that he's the ones working with Emrys. She almost looks... hurt? Like. She really doesn't want to face the reality that Gaius exists, in the sense that she's just so hurt by everything these people that "loved" her have done. She just feels so betrayed by everyone, so hurt, so ANGRY. It's so tragic.

Oh my GOD. I NEED PEOPLE TO STOP MANIPULATING MORGANA!!! I'M SICK OF IT!!!! The way she hesitates!!! When she knows that it means that they're going to use Gaius or maybe even kill him!!! The way that she moves away from Agravaine, processing this, the way he INTERRUPTS THIS and insists, again, that it has to be Gaius, they have to do something. And for a second she almost looks so fucking scared, like!!

LOOK AT HER!!! ANOTHER PERSON THAT'S BETRAYED HER!!! SHE'S SO HURT AND SCARED!!! OH GOD HER AND ARTHUR ARE SO SIMILAR.

She even blinks her eyes after that line from Agravaine, like blinking away tears, her eyes are so shiny bro, I'm gonna cry :((. And after blinking she turns all smirky and "evil" and shit. Jesus Christ. I could write a whole thesis about Morgana and her character progression holy shit.

LET'S GO MUSICCCCCCC

AHHHHHH the iconic breakfast in bed scene!!! Yay!!!

I don't blame Arthur for spitting that out, shit looked dry as FUCK. Also there's a bunch of crumbs on the bed, Merlin, YOU'LL have to clean that up!!! Don't give yourself more work!!

"I don't know anything about Polishing." We really need more appreciation about how Bradley delivers his lines, this one is just too funny, only hearing it, bro. Also. Merlin writes Arthur's speeches. One of the best pieces of canon in my opinion. It's just so comical, for some reason. And they must be good too, 'cause no one's questioning them. It's just such a subtle way to show that Merlin IS smart. Sometimes. A little bit.

Merlin, babe, you cannot be serious. You writing the new bible or something, what the fuck is this.

"You don't have hours." Most threatening and terrifying Merlin's ever sounded. Arthur's better than me, I would've have an anxiety attack so bad it'd send me straight to hell.

THIS INTRO IS EVERYTHING!!! WHY ARE THEY SAYING THINGS SO PERFECTLY SILLY!! I LOVE IT!!! Also, damn, Arthur's BUSY. I guess we do forget that kings had to, y'know. Do basically everything, like be a judge sometimes. Hello??

Ah yes, what I've been waiting for: the wrestling Arthur out of the bed scene. Love it. No notes, really.

"You're doing very well, Arthur." WHAT IF I CRY???

"I don't think so."???? ARTHUR WHAT IF I SMACK SOME SENSE INTO YOU, SHUT UP!!! YOU'RE DOING PRETTY GREAT IN MY OPINION, LISTEN TO YOUR MANSERVANT FOR ONCE.

A tiny bit of appreciation for Arthur's chest hair.

Thank you.

Love that Agravaine just. Ignores that it's Merlin writing Arthur's shit. He must have gotten such a shock right at the start and now nothing's surprising anymore.

The fact that Morgana, all in black, has a white horse is so fucking cool to me. Work that shit, queen.

OK GORGEOUS?????

Hate the way Agravaine speaks. Shut the FUCK UP.

Arthur. Arthur, honey. Yeah, you've got to stop being so easy to manipulate. I know it's hard, but your uncle is so fucking obvious doing it, please, please, just. Please. Holy shit.

Morgana's dress (cloak?? hood?? idk) is so pretty.

Morgana being the last of her kind, High Priestess of the Triple Goddess. Merlin being the last Dragonlord. Something something...

Also. Some obvious orientalism is this episode. Kinda icky, but unsurprising giving it's BBC and also like. 2011 or whatever. But still. Ugh.

Welp. Welp, welp. Can't really say much about that, can I??

I can't remember, but I'm assuming that bracelet she gives to the Catha is from Morgause, simply by the look of pain in her face when it's out of her grasp. Literally, when will my wife's suffering end?

I wonder just how many different kinds of magic beings and users there are in JUST the five kingdoms. What about the rest of the world?? Like. that's just so cool!! I love world building, maybe one day I'll waste away some days just building up lore and lore, probably some made up, but mostly from all cultures and countries. That would be cool as fuck actually.

Agravaine's smile is so FAKE, FUCK OFFFFFFF

Ew, why does he just touch everybody. Weird uncle vibes, for sure.

Oh, I just don't like how Arthur's so quiet. I bet Agravaine's just gotten in his head so bad. He already looks ready to cry, like Gaius has already betrayed him. He's so used to that, what's one more?

Jesus, this hurts to watch. The fact that Gaius knows exactly what's happening, and he's trying to be as truthful as he can but Agravaine's just. making it all worse and horrible. This is so bad.

Ok, Gaius, I know you're better at lying than this. Fucking damnit.

EW. Agravaine's little smirk?? What the fuck is wrong with him? Jesus, I feel so sick watching this, knowing that he's just basically sentenced Gaius as a liar!! Fuck!!!

Well, at least Arthur noticed that Agravaine was being a fucking bitch. Not all is lost.

"... we might find some (proof)." Oh, ok, so you're just admitting that you're going to fabricated evidence against Gaius? Oh ok.

JESUS THESE MAN'S TITTIES ARE JIGGLING GOOD LORD

OH MY GOD, NOT THE PECS FLEXING??? I'm assuming normally you don't see that when you're on a horse adjusting yourself 'cause you got clothes on but this guy DOESN'T and you can SEE EVERYTHING.

The way that Merlin opens the door is so funny. He is NOT amused to be called upon by Agravaine. Mood.

Why is Agravaine's smile literally so disgusting, I cannot.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW WHY DOES HE SMILE SO MUCH???? VERY MUCH WEIRD UNCLE VIBES. VERY MUCH "PUT SOME CLOTHES ON, YOUR UNCLE'S COMING." VIBES. EW. EW EW EWWWW

Love seeing Agravaine getting humbled, thank you big titty man.

Really? Really??? A book boldly proclaiming that it's about magic and sorcery, kinda hidden by one (1) sheet of paper as your proof? Really??? Are you for real right now?? Fuck off.

It is actually so upsetting seeing Agravaine in Merlin and Gaius's space. Like that's not for you, disgusting bitch.

Not Merlin finishing polishing the dagger and setting it on Arthur's nightstand JUST as the warning bells start to sound. Lol. Lmao even.

OH MY GOD THEY'RE DESTROYING GAIUS' SHIT??? WHAT THE FUCK

No no no. I hate this. The fact that Merlin now get's why Agravaine made him polish that dagger. He's fucking blaming himself right away, oh I can't do this.

Merlin literally looks like a baby in this shot, holy shit. My baby :(((.

Agravaine's acting (not the actor's, is the actor acting the character acting!! which is so fucking cool) is so fucking annoying. It's so obvious, dammit, Arthur, you're a king, how can you not see it!!! I know he's family, but you barely know him!!! I know he's from your mother's side and you want THAT side to be good unlike your father's side that's brought you so much pain, I know, but come ON!!!

Oh, Merlin's so mad, not at Arthur, at Agravaine and himself, but he's so hurt, so scared, so pained that it comes across as quietly, restrained angry, and it's fucking heart breaking.

Oh god. This is one of their most painful fights in my opinion. I think they get so fucking heart breaking when it's Merlin just. trying to show his side, trying to get Arthur to understand but Arthur just cannot because he's been given a certain information that WOULD make his actions sensible, but WE know they're lies!!! We do, Merlin does, but he can't just say that 'cause it might reveal HIS lie, and it's just UGH!!!!!!!!!! FUCK

MERLIN IS FUCKING TEARING UP I CAN'T. "He would not leave without saying goodbye to me." I AM GOING TO PUKE.

The way Merlin turns away when he's close to crying, ohhhhh. Oh BBC Merlin writers when I catch you. Colin Morgan when I catch you.

"I don't wanna lose another friend." I think these are the moments that really make me wanna chortle Arthur. I truly feel like he cannot understand the depth of the power that he has compared to Merlin. 'Cause what does that threat mean? Just them stop being friends but Merlin's still employed? Arthur sacking Merlin? Arthur treating Merlin how he's treating Gaius right now? Because, truthfully, with the power that Arthur has, any of these options is viable. I think this is what scares me, Arthur just cannot comprehend that he just cannot threaten his friends, his loved ones, like this just because he's king now. He simply cannot. The weight of it is different. Even if he would never hurt them, it doesn't matter, he has the POWER to. That's what's so scary. And then he wonders why Merlin doesn't tell him things. How can he?

The way things just. Change between the early seasons and now. The way Gaius talks to Morgana, knowing she wants to kill him, when he saw her grow up. I'm gonna be so fucking sick, y'all, what the fuck.

Does she braid some of her hair with leaves?? Or a green ribbon? What is that in her hair??

Not gonna lie, Morgana is so hot in this scene. Jesus. Love that voice, and that's all I'm gonna say.

HE LOOKS SO BABY!!!!!!!!!!1

I love that Gwen doesn't even question that Agravaine's behind it. She's like "I'll use my charms to get Arthur to see reason, don't worry bestie."

ICONICCCC GAIUS USING MAGIC!!!!!!!!

Oh, I love when Merlin doesn't even use words. Just golden eyes and BOOM. Magic.

MERLIN FOR FUCK'S SAKE BRO YOU CAN'T EVEN SNEAK OUT CORRECTLY WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!!!! That's so fucking funny though, I'm losing it-

GWAINE!!!! MY BABY!!! You look like a puppy :,).

Oop. Cock blocked.

Merlin is just in a fucking mood and honestly he deserves to be. But it is interesting how differently he acted with Gwaine and Gwen. I wonder if he's being shorter with Gwaine 'cause he's a knight now, and he knows that knights talk and are closer to the king's views than the servants. Classic class division and such, even if Gwaine is not like other knights. He just cannot be sure now. Also 'cause he almost got found out my Agravaine which does not good for your nerves I bet.

WOW. Gwaine, baby, STAND UP. Get some self-respect. Good god. At Merlin's back and call, it's really ridiculous bro.

Immediately on a secret mission, love these boys.

Not Agravaine seeing his plans fall apart, GET REKT LOSER.

I wonder if Morgana's a good cook. I think she isn't actually. Just never gets recipes right. Burns things, undercooks others.

Oh, poor Gaius... he really tried to fight it but...

It's really fun watching the series and recognizing common clips used in edits.

The way Gaius speaks about Merlin with such wonder and pride... crying rn.

LMAO NOT MERLIN JUST COMPLETELY TRIPPING BOTH OF THE GUY'S FEET. ALSO THE WAY THE CATH TURNED??? HELLO??? HE LOOKED LIKE A SQUIRREL.

"We should split up." "Yeah." two dumb bitches saying "exactlyyyy"

"If you find him, don't wait for me." Gwaine IMMEDIATELY disagreed with that, Merlin dearest, he's not gonna let that happen.

Oh my god, Morgana hasn't met Gwaine yet. All she knows, from Agravaine, is that he's a "hothead". Lmao. lol even.

I love how Agravaine, literal dagger to Gaius' neck, is disagreeing with Gwaine's very keen observation, that he's the kidnapper and traitor. Girl, shut the fuck up.

Gwaine is so handsome. Also, yes, not completely stupid because, if Agravaine didn't kidnap Gaius, how did he know where he was, hm?? Bitchass.

Jesus. Credit when credit's due, he can be a good liar. Also, I feel like Gwaine's acting like he believes Agravaine's innocent, mainly because he can sense something fishy about him. His question, "So you agree he was abducted then?" is so SMART. 'Cause what else can Agravaine do but agree and declare Gaius an innocent man? Yeah that's fucking right, bitch.

Morgana is literally so hot and tragic when evil, good lord.

UGH, Morgana using magic without words, YES!!! Love her being powerful.

Face card never declines for either one of them, good god. Y'know what, more and more I understand Mergana. Just. Look at them!!!

OH THE WAY MERLIN KNOWS THAT ALATOR KNOWS HE'S EMRYS. OH MY GOD?????

Oh jesus, the way Morgana's just RELIEVED to finally know who Emrys is, she's so scared of him she just doesn't want to be scared anymore. Her voice is so soft here :(.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE YEETED THE FUCK OUT OF MORGANA WHAT THE FUCK, WOAH!!!!!!!!1

Oh wow that scene just gave me chills, holy shit holy shit. The way Alator just kneels and allies himself to Merlin. Jesus Christ, that's my drug bro.

Gwaine and Arthur interacting. Gwaine being so soft about Gaius, so worried :(. Arthur too :(((.

I really do love how royals just think the servants can't fucking hear. Gwen is right there as they speak very sensitive matters. Like bitch?? They have ears I promise??

The way Gaius and Merlin communicate their fears and anxieties :((( I'm so emotional bro.

"My worry is Arthur." and THOSE are your loyalties, while Alator and other's loyalties are to YOU, Merlin, 'cause you're supposed to bring forth Albion, but you're too busy having a fucking CRUSH TO DO IT!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, the way Arthur walks into the room and Merlin cannot even BEAR to look at him. He's HURT. As is his right.

The way Merlin immediately lightens the mood, 'cause he wants things to be easy as possible, even if it gets hurts swept under the rug like this. UGH. AGHHHHHHHHH.

Boys. Stop eye fucking. You're supposed to at least be a little mad at him, Merlin, you kinda deserve that, y'know.

Love that Arthur believes without a doubt that Gaius withstood torture for him and Camelot and won. Like. He truly sees Gaius as this strong figure. Just always there since he was born, bro. Even before, while he was being made!! That's bonkers.

I love how Arthur understood Gaius' lied even though Agravaine talks in the "evil manipulative guy" voice all the time. Fuck off bro, I swear.

The Gaius is trying to teach Arthur to understand the complexities of magic, that it's all evil or all good, it's all different. I love this scene so much.

Pretty boy.

And that is it!!! God, what an episode!! I feel like this episode is a good starting point for a show rewrite, in which Arthur gets more and more curious about magic and tries to understand, and maybe we'd get a magic reveal and shit like. I like that a lot.

[d34dlysinner]

Said iI'd make another, couldn't resist after listening to Amen. I need some Angstsy ahh shi to live, but with good ending lmao, kings + Lucifer, our lovely butcher devil, sitri, and Zagan. (and anyone else if you feel someone wld work for this lmao) With a mc who was highly religious and devoted to our lord and savior Jesus h Christ, stemming from past loss of a lover. Y'know how people sometimes after loss turn to religion to help get through it. idk brain not braining typing this whole typing am essay for my Paleobiology class lmao. And well, y'know when they meet the reality of heaven and hell it's like.

'Aw shi-' cue internal mental crisis as they find out their faith was a lie, God is dead. And angels want their soul but not for the good reason.

So it's like, the grief starts all over again n'they're just sitting in the corner vibrating ready to claw the next angel they see in 'WHERE TF IS [insert dead partner]' and probably tried to out of sheer gremlin energy. It's like, they're going through the emotions again n'feel like an idiot for believing such things. Y'know musing over the loss all over again, yadda yadda In the end they come to terms n'shi and move on for real for real.

Ik this is a lot but it's a thought I had how things would go on an mc who was really religious and experiences well, that the religion was a lie xD. Bonus Angst points if the religious belief started to help quell the person after a loved ones death. Lol

Ok enough rambling, I need to finish this essay before I get thrown out a window again.

(Hope I interpreted this well- thanks for the ask!! XD keep on brainrotting)

There you were shivering in the corner of a small room as your mind started to race. Pictures of angels and your dead lover flickering through your mind as you started to doubt what reality and truth was. Your eyes pricked as continuous tears poured out. You seemed too deep in your thoughts. Almost to the point where you cancelled everything and everyone around you.

Satan could feel your rage and happily fed of from it. But at the same time he felt useless as he saw how shattered you seemed from learning the truth.

"I know that humans learned from the angels lies, but I promise you some sense of relief during this battle when we cam finally put an end on them...", he said as he wasn't the best to console someone who was as broken as you were right now. He didn't understand how you felt tho.

Beelzebub understood your anger. He wouldn't show it himself, but he was angry too. Of course he wants peace and to relax. This can't happen when there are angels literally hunting him and other demons. He would sit with you and allow you to cry it out before trying to convince you to join him. He promises to aid you to fight the angels. Even when you can't see him.

Mammon stared down at your saddened frame as he stood in front of you in silence. He took some time before trying to speak to you. "If you're sad about them taking away what's yours. Then demand it back from them. Or make them pay.", was all he said. He wanted you to feel determined to take back what was yours. But he had to he honest that it saddened him to see you so greedy for a past lover and not him.

Leviathan looked down at your form. He didn't know why you cried. But he felt as of he should be jealous. Where you crying for another? Or was it for him? It didn't matter at that moment as he said: "I don't know why your crying. But let's stop using time on crying when you could possibly avenge what your crying for by fighting angels." He isn't the best at consoling others. He is someone who likes to do things efficiently.

Lucifer did enjoy the tears that streamed down your face. What he loved even more was knowing that these tears came to be because of the betrayal and anger you felt towards the angels. Yes, he was an ex angel, but he just as any other demon wants and needs to put an end to the torment that the angels put on the demons. "Join us and fight. It's better to seek for some sense of peace than to do nothing in a tiny room. You could help us and put a stop to those who lied.", he says as he referred to the angels.

Andrealphus could only smell revenge. He knew how you felt and tried to convince you to fight with him. He wishes for you to join and help and hoped that it would give you some sense of peace as you go against the thing that ruined your life even more.

Zagan wasn't a man of many words, but that didn't mean that he would wait out with you and listen to you vent. When you were done he would only nod, stand up and reach a hand out to you. "If you hate them so much... please fight against them with us. We're stronger with you at our side...", was all he said as he waited for you to accept his hand.

Sitri heard your sniffles over your heartbeat. It saddened him as he sat next to you and tried to embrace you. He waited it out and was set on protecting you while you vented incase anyone tried to hurt you during this time. Only when you were somewhat calmed down did he dare to speak. "Solomon...", he started referring to your ancestor again. It somewhat made you feel inferior, but for now it didn't matter as you understood that the demons like you also lost someone dear to them because of the angels.

"I hope you're willing to fight at our side. I understand that this might be a huge change for you since you like other humans were misled by the angels. Please, understand that we also need you.", he said as he stood back up, reaching down to you.

Whether they could console you or not. You appreciated that they tried as you yet again see how wrong those lies of the angels were. You understood that like you, those demons also lost things they thought were precious. You accepted their request as you want to atleast have answers and see if you can atleast find some peace with your lost.

[ysabelmystic]

My friends and I are rewatching a bunch of Christian films from my childhood and we completed the original Left Behind trilogy the other day. Here were my observations

I do think it's funny that the plot essentially begins with GMOs. GMOs are bad because more people being fed means world peace and globalism. That is bad.

"I'm Buck Williams and I'm standing in a wheat field" is now doomed to be repeated within my friend group for at least the next two years.

The antichrist's name is Nikolai Carpathia. He has the accent of a guy mimicking a Russian accent. This feels on par with JK Rowling naming her one Asian character "Cho Chang".

The character names also include (aside from the aforementioned antichrist and Kirk Cameron's character) Rayford Steele, Chloe, and Patty. Somehow it has the aura of a porno.

Despite the only demographic to be exclusively raptured is children under the age of 10, this fact is pretty much ignored.

Kirk Cameron's character (Buck) confronts police officers who are shooting at looters and teenagers for lacking compassion. By today's standards, this is woke propaganda.

I'm pretty sure the prior thing is to show that Buck is a good and pure soul who just needs to read a Bible to be fully redeemed because how else can you have a non-Christian protagonist in a movie like this. Or maybe this is to show that he's misguided and worldly. However, despite being a hot, sexy, prolific journalist, the movie also points out that he is a virgin.

The alleged romantic tension between Buck and pilot-not-porn-star Rayford Steele's daughter is painful to watch because Kirk Cameron will not kiss anyone other than his wife. There's a lot of awkward side hugs and leaving room for Jesus. Given that they end up getting married later, this is amusing to me.

These movies really want you to know two things: World Peace Is Bad, and Jews Are Bad. There are direct plot points specifically about converting Jewish people to Christianity so that they cannot usher in the rule of the antichrist.

I think it's really funny that, despite TV and the internet existing during the time this series takes place, the connection between the rapture prophecies/fanfics and The Fucking Rapture is only discovered by our protagonists and a handful of other random guys. I think a mass disappearance of certain branches of Christianity and children would provoke some kind of doubt and curiosity, but no. That's bad for plot. Instead, the whole world goes straight to "y'know what? Let's just get rid of all religion at once. Forever." This is because all other religions are made from faithless heathens who just really hate Christians, and since there are no longer Christians, they no longer have to Do Religion. I guess.

I also think it's funny that the main characters, though they themselves were convinced to convert because of the rapture, do not use the rapture as a means to convert the masses. They jump straight to bunker church and secret Bible brigades. When they do successfully convert others, it is either by trotting out the tired, "YOU THINK THIS WORLD WAS AN ACCIDENT???" Case for Christ nonsense, or basically threatening their victim with damnation.

Case in point, Rayford Steele talks a guy out of suicide by reminding him that he will never see his wife and child again if he goes through with it. Suicide = Straight To Hell.

There's a scene where the antichrist like... tries to "test" Rayford Steele by revealing his uber spoopy ghost face and seeing if he reacts. Because I guess the uber spoopy ghost face only works on believers. Te uber spoopy ghost face is his figure showing up in infrared, then his face stretching out cartoonishly, and his eyes turning black. This scared me as a child. It is the second funniest part of the movie.

Also, the title of the second movie being "Left Behind: Tribulation Force" is giving big "Electric Boogaloo" energy.

The antichrist reveals of the evil Global Community organization to the protagonists by handing them a piece of loose leaf printer paper with a logo that I would've made in the computer lab in 2005. This is done to the tune of sinister and dramatic music. This is the funniest part of the movie.

The third movie begins with the introduction of The President. It was previously stated that the president had been raptured. There was no mention of presidents up until this point. I know the line of succession exits but it really felt like they just forgot.

Oh yeah...the Pope was also raptured because he was secretly protestant.

Buck marries Rayford Steele's daughter at the same time Rayford Steele marries a random blonde lady. It feels weird and icky, which is furthered by the fact that the now married daughter will henceforth be referred to as "our girl" by both of these men for the rest of the movie.

We also had to stop the movie several times due most of the female cast consisting of skinny white blonde ladies. We could not tell the difference between any of them except for by their eyeliner. If she wears dark eyeliner, she's a whore.

Due to the plot involving the release of a virus that mainly only affects Christians, this film was definitely the most fun to dissect.

The virus is stored in badly CGId glowy green goo bottles, which for a series that has tried very hard to be serious, was awfully cartoony.

This movie does not give a fuck about the protagonists. This movie is about the president. I'm pretty sure this is because the protagonists, who are Christian, are no longer allowed to commit murder. The president is not a Christian, so he gets to use a gun.

The president has random warehouses to do casual interrogations in wherever and whenever he wants. It is clear that the creators were really struggling to make due with the set.

We know the antichrist is bad because he wants to take everyone's nukes. The president's main goal in this movie is to keep the nukes.

Back in the side plot, it turns out that the Christians are getting infected with green goo disease because the antichrist hid it in their Bibles. As the protagonists drown in guilt, the suspense of the plot really starts to fall apart. Their entire goal is to Get More People Into Heaven, and in this series, reading the Bible will automatically make anyone a Christian (the Bible's words cannot be resisted). If anything, they just fast-tracked a bunch of people into heaven, and they no longer have to endure the next seven years of apocalypse.

We should've all watched these movie pre-COVID. The only person who wears a mask and gloves is the antichrist. The protagonists also mention avoiding vaccines and relying on God/sacrificing themselves instead. This movie predicted 2020.

The super advanced green goo virus has an instacure antidote. Fucking red wine. This seems like a helluva lot of oversight to hand the "drinks red wine as part of religious rituals" group a virus that can be instacured by red wine.

WW3 starts. Somehow, this does not cause a nuclear winter.

The antichrist discovers that he can force-choke people.

The president suicide-bombs the antichrist's tower in order to "slow him down". Given that the antichrist cannot be killed and cell phones exist, I have no idea what exactly that was supposed to do.

As someone who grew up fully believing that Obama was the antichrist and Muslim (which is conservative for "literally a member of Al-Queda/ISIS").... and Black but they didn't say that part out loud), it was interesting in retrospect to watch this movie unfold. The president in this movie is a Black, non-Christian man who is initially for world peace, but then converts to Christianity and suicide-bombs the antichrist. We all have different interpretations of this, but we do agree that they would not have made that specific set of choices today. That said, my interpretation is the correct one /hj

[scriv3lloirl]

Gen question, why do you hate the 2019 production

Jesus. This is gonna be a really long post. Check under the cut.

Honestly? I'm not quite sure m'self. It's jus.. not good and I don't know how to describe it. No hate if you like it, Anon, but I listened to the soundtrack once n I couldn't get through it. Once 'Dentist!' turned on, I had to shut it off halfway through the song, which I never do, cus it was that bad.

Christian Borle as Orin Scrivello? I despise it. He's not a good Orin, n I will die on that hill. He seemed so.. bored while playin the role n I don't understand how you can be bored playing Orin.

I sat down to actually watched the slime tutorial up on YouTube, cus I wanted to give the show a chance n I hoping it was jus the cast album that was bad, but watchin the video jus made my dislike grow but I stuck it out n watched the whole thing.

There is one thing that I can appreciate bout Borle playin Orin, though, n it's that he's bringin a lot of new fans into the fandom! He's a popular actor n a Tony Award winner; a lot of people know him as Vox from Hazbin plus other roles he's played that I can't think of right now—and ev'ryone wants to check him out in Little Shop!!

Enough of Borle though—Time for Jonathan Groff as Seymour.

I don't have as many problems with him as I do Borle. Jonathan is a fantastic actor, but he's not a good Seymour. When he sings all I can hear is Kristoff from Frozen n it brings me out of whatever song we're in. The way Groff acts as Seymour is.. odd. It jus doesn't feel like Seymour, y'know?

Tammy Blanchard as Audrey? I don't really have words for her, she is awful pretty I gotta say. When I listened to the songs on album, it seemed like she changed actresses halfway through songs. I dunno what's up with that. It was weird.

But in the slime tutorial I saw, Joy Woods played Audrey n—hoo boy. I love Joy Woods. She's a fantastic Audrey (the main inspirations for my black Audrey design) but she really disappointed me in the video.

Feed Me (Git It!) is always a make it or break it song for me—with how almost all of the main cast will be on stage—n ev'ryone was.. eugh. Nobody had any emotion durin the song (especially durin that one part where Orin literally smacks Audrey. Orin sounded so flat.) n Christ, it really pissed me off.

Anyway I have a lot more thoughts on this production but, I don't really know how to continue on with this post.. I jus don't like the cast n they don't sing well t'gether. I dunno.

Thanks for your ask, Anon!

[chewysgummies]

Omg, not me thinking about "The bounty" again. The more I think about the episode, the more I realize how much of a MESS it is. For both Killbot 86 and Commander peeper. Especially for commander peepers since everyone always thinks "the bounty" is good for him cause it foreshadowed/reveal peeper to be badass, when in reality, it is not. Yeah, it did- but only temporarily before they made peeper cry over lord hater and exaggerated how much of a whiny crybaby he is.

Like honestly, remember how in "The prisoner" or something, Peeper managed to easily trick Wander into the ship? Yeah, he didn't capture him, but it wasn't hard to manipulate him inside the skullship, right? And I believe that episode came BEFORE the bounty so It wasn't hard to do that job of simply luring in wander into the ship. So like- Why was that so difficult of him to do?? And remember that line lord hater said?

"You can't seem to do the one thing I continually asked of you"

Noticed how lord hater mentioned he "continually" asked peeper to capture him? So he failed multiple times to get wander in despite how easy it was to manipulate him the first time. So HOW DID HE NOT SIMPLY DO THAT AGAIN??? You can argue that stuff happened off screen and there's a time skip for sure, but like- this is Commander peeper we're talking about. Isn't he supposed to be the "smartest" person? Y'know, to think of a plan instead of playing cat and mouse chase? Anyway, Peeper had his chances multiple times in a row until Hater had enough and straight up called in the bounty hunter cause he was so incompetent at doing his job.

And this is where I start to have issues. literally the first thing we see is Peeper whining to lord hater about what he's doing wrong instead accepting the facts he knew he screwed up and tried to apologize to lord hater for his failure before trying to convince him to give him another chance. Anyway, he proceeds to abuse his soldier, basically lashing out on other, and just- my god he fuckin suck holy shit. I get that the point but like- it made me question why I was into him to begin with.

So like yadda yadda, stuff happened. Sabotaging the bounty hunters. And my poor sweet, dearly beloved badass of robot man I love- I cannot go into details about how much I wanted to cry over him. Like genuinely speaking. I love him so much and realizing how horribly they mistreated him- holy fuck I'll never forgive this show. Fuck this show man- I already mentioned about what they done to him, but they literally robbed him. If given the chance, he would've been important. Especially since it was shown that he was actually crucial to Sylvia and peeper's parallel and the flashback as well. If Sylvia lost that fight, wander would've possibly ended up with killbot 85. I'm so pissed off that they shafted him like this. HE LITERALLY HAS THE MOST ERROR IN HIS DESIGN OUT OF EVERYONE AND THIS IS HIS FIRST INTRODUCTION- HOW DO YOU SCREW HIM UP LIKE THIS⁉️‼️⁉️

So yeah, anyway, my sweet robot got his shit kicked in by Peeper and near the end. Lord hater called him out on his shit and peeper admitted he screwed up. But then you see that fuckin peeper- HE LITERALLY DROPPED ONTO THE FLOOR AND START CRYING LIKE A BABY- i know that peeper is just a "pathetic little meow meow" but like- you gonna at least side eye at this part cause like wtf? Jesus Christ, they exaggerated the worst part of peeper's character here and genuinely I start to think that I kinda regret being into him in the first place?? Literally The Axe does a better job of displaying peeper competently and didn't make him into a full on crybaby.

So sorry for rumbling on about this, all of this come from the fact that I genuinely love killbot 86 so much that if anything bad were to happen to him, I'll cry. Or at least I wanna cry for him. And knowing how everyone seems to think this is a good peeper episode with the knowledge how messy it is, it just- idk. It really is not?? So sorry for the long rant. If you got this far, thank you for reading. Maybe you can argue with me but I'll be honest when I say that I have the tendency to overwhelm myself with bad thoughts and act out on emotion. This episode just made me so upset that maybe, just maybe killbot 86 would've been liked by the whole community instead of being so unpopular. I tried my best to get him noticed and put all my effort & love into him after YEARS of having nothing. It's not fair for him. It's not fuckin fair.