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pucksandpower · 1 day

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Puppy Love

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of the tiny sausage dog who seems to take up every second of your boyfriend’s attention … but it sure feels nice when Leo decides he’s a mama’s boy and Charles gets a taste of his own medicine

You stroll into the spacious living room, eyes narrowing as you spot Charles sitting on the couch, a tiny dachshund puppy curled up contentedly on his lap. “Charles … what is that?”

He looks up with a sheepish grin. “Surprise! Meet Leo, our new puppy.”

You shake your head slowly. “Our puppy? I don’t recall agreeing to get a dog.”

Charles scratches Leo’s velvety ears, eliciting a blissful tail thump. “I know, I know. But look how cute he is! I couldn’t resist.”

Crossing your arms, you try your best to seem stern despite the puppy’s heart-melting adorableness. “We haven’t even discussed this. A dog is a huge responsibility.”

“I’ve thought it through,” Charles insists. “Leo is the perfect breed for our lifestyle — small, low maintenance, and they make amazing companions.” He holds the drowsy pup up with a beseeching expression. “How can you say no to this face?”

You bite your lip, wavering. The puppy really is criminally cute with his soulful eyes and ridiculously long body. “Well … I suppose we could give it a trial run,” you concede. “But you’re taking care of him.”

Charles beams. “Deal! You’ll fall in love, I promise.” He sets Leo back on his lap, rubbing the puppy’s belly. “Who’s the best boy? You are!”

Watching them bond, a prickle of jealousy stirs in your chest. Is this what you signed up for — playing second fiddle to a canine?

Over the following days, Charles is utterly smitten, devoting every spare moment to Leo. He takes the pup everywhere, cooing over him incessantly and showering him with treats and toys. Meanwhile, you often find yourself … ignored.

“Charles? Are you listening?” You frown as he doesn’t respond, too busy dangling a chew rope just out of Leo’s reach in a teasing game.

You huff out a sigh. “I guess I’ll just make dinner for one then.”

Finally, he glances up with a distracted, “Hmm? Sorry, what was that?”

Throwing up your hands, you stalk into the kitchen, simmering with a childish sense of being replaced in your boyfriend’s affections. Stupid dog ...

A few nights later, you’re getting ready for bed when Charles appears in the doorway, Leo tucked under one arm like a furry purse. “Hey, I need to run out for a bit. Can you keep an eye on Leo?”

“What? Why?” You pause in the middle of removing your makeup.

Charles grimaces. “ I … may have waited until the last minute to get his puppy pads and food refilled.”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll watch him. But just this once!”

“You’re the best, thank you!” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before setting Leo down with a stern, “Be good for your maman, okay?”

He dashes out, leaving you staring at the puppy sitting innocently in the middle of the bedroom floor. Leo blinks up at you, tiny tail wagging.

For a long stretch, you simply regard each other in silence. Then, hesitantly, you sink down to sit cross-legged. “Well? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Leo waddles over, sniffing at your knee before clambering into your lap with surprising determination for such a little guy. You tense, unsure what to do as he turns in a few circles and settles with a contented sigh, warm weight pressing against you.

Huh … he’s actually kind of cuddly.

Tentatively patting his silky fur, you admit, “I can see why Charles likes you so much.”

Leo’s only response is a sleepy snuffle, lashes fluttering shut. Despite yourself, you can’t resist smiling at how peaceful he looks, tiny paws twitching as he dreams. Maybe this dog thing won’t be so bad.

That notion lasts until Leo startles awake with a high-pitched yelp, legs scrambling as he leaps off your lap and takes off running. “Leo? Leo!” You give chase, wincing as his claws skitter across the hardwood in his panic.

Finally, you catch up to him quivering under the living room sofa. “Oh no, it’s okay!” You stretch out on the floor, clicking your tongue soothingly. “Come here, little guy. I’ve got you.”

Leo whimpers, but after a few tense minutes of coaxing, he creeps out just enough for you to scoop him up. You settle back against the couch with him bundled in your arms, murmuring reassurances as he trembles.

“Shhh, you’re safe … good boy ...” You press a tender kiss between his floppy ears, stroking him until his quaking fades to contented wriggles. As your apprehension melts away, a fierce protectiveness blossoms in your chest. This precious little soul is yours to care for now.

When Charles returns, he pauses in the hallway, tilting his head quizzically at the sight of you reclined on the sofa with Leo completely passed out on your stomach. “Having fun over there?”

You glance down at the slumbering puppy with a soft smile. “Actually … yeah. I think Leo and I are going to be just fine.”

A delighted grin spreads across Charles’s face. “I knew you two would hit it off!”

Over the ensuing weeks, you find yourself increasingly enamored with your four-legged child. Leo shadows your every step, bouncing around underfoot until you inevitably scoop him up to snuggle close. You start pushing all the throw pillows together to create a special nest for him on the couch. Charles teases that you’re getting a little carried away with spoiling the pup rotten.

“Oh, hush,” you retort without any real bite, nuzzling Leo’s plush cheek. “My baby deserves nothing but the best, isn’t that right?”

“Baby?” Charles arches an amused brow. “I think someone’s going overboard.”

You stick out your tongue, cuddling Leo closer with a playful glare. “Don’t listen to your papa. He’s just jealous of our bond.”

“Hey, I’m not the one treating him like a literal infant!” Charles laughs, reaching over to ruffle Leo’s ears. But the puppy twists away with a protesting whine, burying his face against your neck.

Charles pauses, brow furrowing in a brief flicker of hurt. You think nothing of it until the same thing happens again at dinner … and on your evening walk around the block … and at bedtime when Leo kicks up a fuss about sleeping in his own bed instead of yours.

“Leo, come on!” Charles groans in frustration when the puppy darts under the dresser instead of coming to him. “What’s with you lately?”

He shoots you an aggrieved look, ruffling a hand through his tousled waves. “Ever since you started carrying him everywhere, he won’t leave your side. You’ve turned my own dog against me!”

You shrug innocently, scratching behind Leo’s silky ear when he peeks out to flash you an adoring gaze. “I can’t help it if he knows who his favorite parent is.”

“Favorite parent?” Charles splutters. “That’s my dog you’re talking about!”

You gasp in mock offense, gathering Leo up to press a loud smacker against his fuzzy head. “Don’t listen to him, baby! Papa’s just grumpy because I’m better at cuddles.”

Charles narrows his eyes at the giggling puppy now practically swimming in your embrace. “Is that so? We’ll see about that.”

He swoops in to snatch Leo away, cradling the squirming pup against his chest. “Who’s the favorite, huh? I’m the one who picked you out, you little traitor.”

But Leo simply strains back towards you, pawing at Charles’ arm with distressed whimpers until you take him back. He immediately settles with a contented sigh, licking your chin gloatingly as Charles gapes.

“Oh, that is war ...” Your boyfriend mutters, stalking away with hunched shoulders.

You blink after him in confusion before shrugging it off in favor of cooing over the dachshund. “Did mean old Papa try to take you from Mama? Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t let him.”

From that point on, a constant battle for Leo’s affections rages between you and Charles. He’ll try enticing the puppy with treats or toys, only for Leo to bypass them entirely in favor of your open arms. You can’t help but preen victoriously every time Leo cuddles into your embrace with a sigh of pure bliss.

“You’ve turned him against me!” Charles bemoans one evening as Leo dozes contentedly on your lap, stubbornly ignoring the tennis ball being waved enticingly in front of his nose. “What’s a guy got to do to get some puppy love around here?”

You smirk, idly stroking Leo’s velvety ears. “Guess he just prefers spending time with his one true love.”

“Yeah, yeah ...” Charles grumbles, but you catch the fond curl of his lips as he watches you fawning over the pup. He flops down beside you with a theatrical groan. “Unbelievable. Replaced in my own home by a hairy sausage.”

You gasp in mock outrage. “Don’t call my baby such things!” Scooping up Leo, you pepper his fuzzy face with smooches until he squirms happily. “Did you hear what Papa said about you? He’s just jealous!”

“I am not jealous!” Charles protests, even as his gaze tracks the gentle way you cradle the puppy. There’s a wistful edge to his voice when he murmurs, “Remember when you used to look at me like that?”

You pause, registering the plaintive note. Slowly, you shift Leo into the crook of one arm so you can reach out and cup Charles’ cheek with your free hand, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. “Aww, my poor baby,” you tease gently. “Don’t worry — there’s enough love to go around for both of you.”

Charles leans into your touch with a huff, darting eyes betraying how much he misses your undivided attention. “I’m starting to doubt that.”

“Well then, let me remind you ...” You lean in until your lips are a hair’s breadth from his, holding his gaze as you murmur, “I happen to have the world’s biggest, most annoyingly persistent crush on this one race car driver.”

A shiver ripples through Charles, his breath catching. Before he can respond, you close the scant distance in a searing kiss, lips molding hot and desperate as you pour every ounce of adoration into the embrace. Leo gives a disgruntled squeak at being squished between your bodies, quickly wriggling free to skitter off with an offended sniff.

You hardly notice, too busy mapping the contours of Charles’ mouth with hungry sweeps of your tongue, muffling his delicious groans by deepening the kiss. By the time you finally break apart, you’re both left panting harshly, gazes locked in a blissful haze.

“Still think I only have eyes for the dog?” You rasp, relishing the way Charles’ pupils are blown wide.

He swallows thickly. “You make a … convincing argument.”

“Mmm, I try.” You lean in to nip at his kiss-swollen lower lip with a sly grin. “But I’m more than happy to keep making my case ...”

Charles growls low in his throat, hauling you forward until you’re properly straddling his lap, bodies flush. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Breathless laughter spills from your lips as he surges up to capture them once more, hands roaming eagerly over your curves. In that heated moment, the puppy is forgotten as you pour all your focus into worshiping each other, affections firmly realigned.

Well … until a tiny bark sounds from nearby, followed by indignant grumbling and the patter of tiny paws. You reluctantly break the steamy kiss, rolling your eyes fondly as Leo hops up onto the couch to shove his way between the two of you.

“Easy there, troublemaker,” you chuckle, stroking the puppy’s silken fur as he clambers between you and Charles, yipping happily now that he has both his humans’ full attention. “See, baby? I told you there was enough love for all of us.”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “It’s a good thing he’s cute.”

You grin, leaning in to rest your forehead against his as Leo snuggles down with a contented sigh. In this perfect cocoon of warmth and adoration, you can’t imagine anything better.

And if the three of you stay snuggled up on that couch long into the evening, trading lingering kisses and delighted giggles as Leo’s little tail thumps happily … well, no one has to know.

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rin-may-1103 · 3 days

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The Wrong Robin Au (part two?)

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"Alright, kid." Danny sighed as he walked back into the motel. "tell you what, you tell me everything you think you know about me and bats, and I'll be Robin. Deal?"

Tim's eyes widen in surprise, "wait, really?" he asks, dropping the third Oreo he had been trying to balance on Sam's forehead. Sam snored, her nose twitching in agitation for a moment before going back to normal.

Tim leaned back, keeping an eye on her. "do you really mean it? you'll come back and fix him?"

Danny sighed, "I can't promise that I'll be able to fix him, but I can promise to do my best."

tim nodded his head, "That's all I ask." then the kid stood up, holding his hand out for Danny to shake, "We got a deal, Robin."

Danny smirked, unable to keep a straight face at how cute the kid was being. Reaching out, he shook his hand.

"Right, first things first. Who's Batman, and why do you think so?" Danny asked, making his way over to the table. Tim followed behind him, his face brightening up in excitement.

"Bruce Wayne of course," Tim cheered, plopping down onto the chair across from Danny.

of course, another rich fruit loop would be Batman. Why not? What's next? Lex Luther was Superman's archnemesis? Oliver Queen cosplayed Katness Evergreen?

"I thought Dick Grayson, Bruce's ward, was Robin at first. It had made sense, or at least mostly did but I wasn't completely sold on it. I only really thought it was him because Robin was able to do a quadruple backflip, and only Grayson's family was able to do that. but then I saw you! and it makes perfect sense!" Tim smiled excitedly, leaning forward as he continued.

"You were able to do the flip, AND you acted just like Robin did! Dick doesn't act like Robin in public, or ever really. But you do! You did the flip, you make puns! you even bit that one mugger!"

Danny blinked before slowly nodding his head; Well, at least his personality wasn't going to be a problem. "right, makes sense," not. it did not make sense, but who was Danny to crush this kid's hopes. also, how long ago was this? because Danny hadn't done the flip this time... he's definitely bitten a criminal or two over the past two weeks, but the flip? that had to have been back when he first got his powers... he vaguely remembers his parents dragging him around the country on some trip Vlad set up for them.

see, it was totally Vlad's fault.

"and who was the second Robin?" Danny asked, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Bruce's second kid, Jason Todd," Tim replied, not smiling anymore. "The Joker killed Robin over in Ethiopia. Jason went missing and was declared dead around the same time."

"Right," Danny coughed, glancing away from Tim. "and what else do you know?"

"Well, I know Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Barbara, was batgirl..." Tim trailed off with a wince, obviously not liking the conversation anymore. Danny had to agree, the whole class had been informed about the dangers of Gotham City. Barbara Gordan had been one of the examples they used.

"I know that you're using a fake name!" Tim suddenly added, looking more lively now. Danny blinked before sighing, "Yeah? and why's that?"

"you used your bat training to make a fake identity to throw Bruce off your trail! That way you would have more time to settle in with your new team! and it worked for a while, that is until he caught up to you and your team. it doesn't seem he knows about this identity, so you've been using it ever since Jason's death. because you're mad at him."

"and why am I mad at him?" Danny asked, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. Just what had he gotten himself into?

"because he didn't tell you about Jason's death." Danny glanced back at the kid, watching as he looked away and out the window. "just like he didn't tell Dick..."

had he finally connected the dots? had he finally realized he got the wrong person?

"why would he not tell you two?" Tim asked, turning to look up at Danny. Danny shrugged, turning to look back at the ceiling. "grief makes people do things they never would have before." like becoming a billionaire and spending twenty years scheming on how to murder a single man. or it could make them more obsessed with their work.

Danny knows Greif, he's had to deal with it for years now. It's the only thing he understands about why Batman has changed so much. Greif, especially for someone you love? It changes you, it holds onto your heart and never lets go. It can drive you insane if you let it.

"he was so caught up in his own grief he didn't realize that there were others who needed to grieve with him."

"Oh," Tim replied.

they sat in silence for a moment before Tim spoke up again.

"I know where the Batcave is."

Danny blinked. Right. Batman. Batcave. the bat-themed vigilante had a secret lair and it was a cave. That checked out. At least it wasn't in the basement.

"yeah?" Danny prompted, "And where's that?"

"under the manor," Tim replied, crushing any and all hope Danny had for Bruce Wayne.

It was official. All billionaires were fruitloops. Danny didn't care if they didn't all have secret basements, they were fruitloops.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #Wrong Robin Au #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #tim drake #bruce wayne #batman

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joelmillerisapunk · 2 days

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Tastes like strawberries

Dbf!Joel miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,367 (ma bad)

Summary: after accidentally sending your dads best friend a provocative photo meant for someone else you go to "apologize" in person.

Warnings: 18+, age gap (make it your own), handcuffs, scissors, power imbalance, alcohol consumption, f&m oral receiving, joel wrecks your clothes, unprotected p in v, reader has hair and wears a dress, just two consenting adults

Notes: this wasn't meant to be so long. But here we are. Thank you for reading hope you like it <3 Thank you @syd-djarin @joelslegalwhre and @mountainsandmayhem for beta'ing sending you all smooches! and @saradika-graphics for the divider <3 <3 <3

The soft glow of your phone screen illuminates your face in the dimly lit room. Your heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves as you craft the perfect message to the guy you've been chatting with on Tinder. His name is Joel, and he seems different from the others—charming, mature, and undeniably intriguing.

With a deep breath, you attach the sexy photo you'd taken earlier, one that you hope he'll find irresistible. You type out a flirty caption, double-check the name at the top of the chat, and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

The next morning, you wake up to a message notification. Your heart leaps, thinking it's Tinder Joel, but as you reach for your phone, a sense of dread washes over you. The message is from your father's best friend, Joel Miller, a man you've known since childhood and who has seen you grow up. The preview of the message from last night is enough to make your blood run cold.

11:58PM: I think you might have sent this to the wrong person, sweetheart.

Panic sets in as you read the full message and your face flames with embarrassment. You type out a flurry of apologies, each one more frantic than the last. Joel's response is swift and unexpected.

8:05AM: It's all good, baby girl. You don't need those Tinder boys when I'm right here for ya.

The message is accompanied by a winking emoji, and despite your mortification, you can't help but feel a thrill at the familiarity and warmth in his words.

—

Determined to apologize in person and clear the air, you find yourself outside the sleek glass building that houses Joel's wine company Vita Vino: where every sip is a celebration of life. You certainly don't feel very celebratory at this moment as the receptionist leads you up to the top floor, where Joel's office overlooks the city with floor-to-ceiling windows.

You step into the office, where you see the cityscape sprawling behind Joel. He rises from his desk, a smile playing on his lips, his presence commanding the room. "Come in, sweetheart, was hopin’ to see ya," he says and winks.

You manage to find your voice, despite the fluttering in your chest. "Mr. Miller, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I was mortified when I realized - I don't know what I was thinking, it was meant for someone—"

He cuts you off with a gentle raise of his hand to still your frantic words. "Please call me Joel, you know better than callin me that. It's okay darlin. Really. These things happen."

You look up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgement, but find only a calm, reassuring smile. "I just—I never meant for you to see that. I feel so stupid.”

Joel's smile broadens, and he takes a step closer. "You have nothing to feel stupid about. You're a beautiful, confident woman. Ain't no shame in that. Listen, what you sent—it was for my eyes only from the moment it reached my phone. I want you to know that you can trust me. I would never disrespect you by sharing that with anyone.”

His words resonate with you, and you feel the weight of your embarrassment start to lift. "I appreciate that, Joel. I really do."

He takes a step toward you, closing the distance between you two. His hand lifts, and you feel the warmth of his fingers as they gently tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "You've got nothing to thank me for darlin. I'm just being honest with you."

The intensity of his stare sends a jolt of electricity through you. He's close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body, and the scent of his cologne fills your senses, making your head spin. But before you can respond, he releases your chin and moves to the side, gesturing toward a large, framed map of the world's wine regions that hangs on the wall. As you both turn to look at it, your bodies are almost touching, and you can feel the subtle brush of his arm against yours.

"I want to show you something," he says, pointing to a very tiny out of the way region highlighted in gold. "It's where we get the grapes for our signature blend. You know, just like those grapes, sometimes the best things in life are unexpected surprises."

As he explains the intricacies of the wine-making process, his hand drifts to the small of your back, a possessive gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is light, but the message is clear—he's staking a claim.

As Joel's hand lingers on the small of your back, his thumb traces small, intimate circles that make it hard to focus on his words about wine. The room seems to shrink, the city outside the windows fading into insignificance as your awareness narrows to the man beside you.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as Joel's thumb continues its maddeningly delightful exploration. The heat from his hand seems to seep through the fabric of your clothes, branding your skin with his touch. "Joel," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur. His name feels foreign and familiar on your lips.

He turns to look at you. "Yes, darlin'?" he replies, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through you.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself against the intoxicating effect he has on you. "I -I should go," you say, though the words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth. The last thing you want is to leave this room and the spell Joel has cast over you.

A slow smile spreads across his face, and he shakes his head slightly. "Do you really want to leave?" he asks, his hand pressing ever so slightly into your back, urging you closer.

The question hangs in the air between you, charged with anticipation and the promise of something deliciously forbidden. You know that saying yes will irrevocably change things between you and Joel Miller—the man who is friends with your father—but in this moment, none of that seems to matter.

The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You're acutely aware of the way your heart is pounding in your chest, the way your breath has become shallow and rapid. Joel's eyes are locked onto yours, a silent challenge that dares you to take a leap into the unknown.

"No," you admit, the word tasting like a confession. "I don't want to leave."

The smile that lights up Joel's face is predatory, triumphant. "Good girl," he murmurs, the approval in his voice sends a thrill through you. He steps back, giving you both a moment to breathe, to let the gravity of your decision settle in the space between you. "I've got something special I've been saving for an occasion like this," Joel says. He moves toward a polished wooden cabinet on the far side of the room. The cabinet is locked, but he produces a key from his pocket with a flourish that makes you smile despite the tension coiling in your belly.

Inside the cabinet is an array of exquisite bottles, each one surely holding a story as rich and complex as its contents. Joel's hand lingers over them before finally selecting one with a label that looks older than you are. "This," he says, holding it up to the light so you can see the liquid within, "is a 1947 Cheval Blanc. One of the finest vintages ever produced."

Your eyes widen at the sight of it. "Joel, I can't... that must be worth a fortune," you protest weakly, even as part of you yearns to experience such rare luxury.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he retrieves two crystal glasses from the cabinet. "Money isn't everything, darlin'." His gaze meets yours again, filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather share this with than you."

You watch in silence as he expertly uncorks the bottle and pours a small amount into each glass, the wine swirling like liquid rubies. He hands one to you and then raises his own in a toast. "To unexpected surprises," he says with a knowing smile.

The wine is velvet on your tongue, rich and complex with layers of flavor that seem to unfold endlessly as you sip it. You close your eyes for a moment, savoring the experience—and when you open them again Joel is watching you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, becoming charged with a desire that's as intoxicating as the wine you're sharing.

"You look so beautiful when you enjoy something.”

As the last drops of the exquisite wine coat your throat, you lower your glass, your senses heightened by the rich flavors and the man standing before you. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire that mirrors the pulsing need growing within you. He takes a step closer, the heat of his body enveloping you as he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I want to show you more than just wine," he says, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "There's a whole world of pleasures I can introduce you to.”

“Joel, I dont know what to say.”

“Nothin’, you dont have to say anything pretty girl.”

As the last drops of the Cheval Blanc dance on your tongue, Joel takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. He reaches out to take your glass, setting it aside on a nearby table. His fingers graze yours in the process, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest, the subtle hint of stubble along his jawline.

Joel turns back to the wine cabinet to return the precious bottle to its place of honor. As he opens the cabinet door, there's a soft clinking sound, and something metallic tumbles out from one of the shelves, landing with a thud on the plush carpet at your feet.

You both glance down simultaneously. There, gleaming under the soft glow of the office lights, is a pair of handcuffs. They're not just any handcuffs—they're high-quality, with a polished finish that suggests they've been well cared for. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you can feel a heat creeping up your cheeks as you look back at Joel.

"Well, that's not something I expected to show you today," he says with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of awkwardness.

You stare at the handcuffs and then back at Joel, your heart pounding in your chest. "Are those...?" You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he nods. "Yes, they are.”

You're not sure what to think, you can only imagine how many women he's used those on, right here in his office. The thought sends a thrill through you, a mix of jealousy and excitement at the idea of being one of those women, of sharing in this secret, kinky side of Joel that he's kept hidden from the world. "I didn't peg you for the type," you say.

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, the playful glint in them replaced by a serious intensity. "There's a lot you don't know about me, darlin'," he admits. "And there's a lot I'd like to show you, if you're willing.”

You know that picking up those handcuffs would be crossing a line, stepping into a world of pleasure and exploration that you've never experienced before. But the thought of surrendering control to Joel, of letting him guide you through uncharted territory, is exhilarating.

Slowly, you reach down and pick up the handcuffs, the cold metal warming in your grasp. You hold them out to Joel, your heart racing as you give him a silent nod of consent. A slow, approving smile spreads across his face as he takes the handcuffs from you.

His fingers brush against your wrists, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You hear the soft click of the handcuffs as they close around your wrists. The sensation of being bound, of being at Joel's mercy, is both thrilling and terrifying.

"There," he says, his breath hot against your ear as he steps in front of you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Now you're mine."

The words send a jolt of desire through you, pooling low in your belly. You're aware of the way your body responds to his words, to the dominance radiating off him in waves. "What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

Joel's smile is wicked as he reaches out to trace the line of your jaw with his finger. "Whatever I want," he says, the promise in his voice making your knees weak. "But don't worry, darlin'. I'm going to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”

He guides you toward the large, mahogany desk that dominates his office. The surface is clear, save for a sleek laptop and a few neatly stacked papers. With a gentle hand on your shoulder, he urges you to sit on the edge of the desk, the cool wood against your skin a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his touch.

Joel steps back, his gaze raking over you as he begins to undress and it's as if time slows down, allowing you to take in every inch of his mature, ruggedly handsome form. Joel's suit is tailored to perfection, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Each movement he makes stretches the fabric across his toned body. With practiced ease, he removes it and then unbuttons his crisp, white dress shirt. His chest is a canvas of sun-kissed skin pulled taut over defined pectoral muscles. A smattering of gray hair dusts his chest, trailing down his toned abdomen and disappearing into the waistband of his trousers. Joel's hands move to his belt, and with a flick of his wrist, he unbuckles it, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet room. He slides the leather out of the loops with a slow, deliberate motion. His trousers follow, pooling at his feet to reveal a pair of black boxer briefs that hug his powerful thighs and leave little to the imagination.

His arousal is evident, straining against the soft fabric, and you can't help but feel a thrill at the sight. As he pushes his boxer briefs down, his cock springs free, thick and heavy with desire. His cock is a thing of beauty, perfectly proportioned to his large frame, with a defined shaft and a bulbous head that glistens with a drop of arousal. It's clear that Joel is a man confident in his sexuality and the effect he has on you.

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he teases, but the heat in his gaze tells you he enjoys your appraisal. Joel's eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches into the top drawer of his desk, the sound of metal against wood sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. He produces a pair of scissors. The sight of them in his large, capable hands is intimidating. "These," he says, holding up the scissors for you to see, "are going to help me unwrap my present." His voice is filled with a promise that sends a thrill straight to your core.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he steps toward you. "Joel, wait—" you start to protest, but the words die on your lips as he places a finger gently against them.

"Shh... trust me," he murmurs, and there's something in his eyes that makes it impossible for you to do anything but nod in silent acquiescence. With a tenderness that belies his strength, Joel takes hold of one of the straps of your dress. The cold steel of the scissors brushes against your skin as he carefully slides the blades beneath the fabric. You feel a momentary resistance and then—snip—the strap gives way, falling limply to your side as Joel cuts through it with practiced ease. The front of your dress sags slightly, revealing more of your cleavage than intended. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as Joel's gaze darkens with desire. "You are exquisite," he says reverently, his fingers tracing the newly exposed skin along the neckline of your dress.

Before you can respond, he's moving again, this time cutting away the other strip of fabric that hold up the rest of your dress. The material falls away from your body like petals from a blooming flower, pooling at your waist and leaving you feeling deliciously exposed under his hungry gaze.

"Joel!" you gasp, both startled and exhilarated by his boldness. "My dress—"

He silences you with a kiss—a deep, searing kiss that leaves no room for doubt about how much he wants you right now. "Don't worry about it," he says when he finally pulls away, “I'll buy you ten more just like it.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, you watch as Joel's attention shifts to your bra. The scissors glint in the soft light of his office, and you can't help but hold your breath as he positions the blades against the delicate fabric of your bra strap.

"I've been wanting to see these since the moment ya walked in baby," he confesses, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. With a swift, precise movement, he snips through the strap on one side, then the other. The bra loosens around you, but it's still held in place by the underwire and your modesty is preserved—for now.

Joel sets the scissors aside and hooks his fingers under the remaining fabric of your dress and bra. He tugs gently, peeling away the layers of clothing that separate you from his touch. You lift your hips to assist him, and with a final tug, he frees you from both garments. You're sitting before him now in nothing but your underwear, feeling more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

Joel's eyes roam over every inch of exposed skin with an intensity that makes it clear just how much he appreciates what he sees laid out before him on his desk like some kind of erotic feast prepared just for him. "You are absolutely breathtaking," he murmurs appreciatively as his hands follow where his eyes have just been caressing every curve along its way. Joel's hands continue their exploration, his fingers skimming over the soft fabric of your underwear. You can feel the heat of his touch through the thin material, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

"Eager, aren't we?" he teases, his fingers tracing the edge of your underwear before dipping beneath the fabric. His fingertips graze your sensitive flesh, and a gasp escapes your lips as pleasure courses through you. "I like that," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

Your body responds to his touch with an eagerness that surprises you. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Lift up for me, darlin'," he instructs. You do as he says, lifting your hips so he can slide the underwear down your legs. Once they're off, he tosses them aside carelessly, as if they're nothing more than a bothersome impediment to what he truly wants—you. Now you're completely exposed to him, sitting on the edge of his desk with your hands cuffed and your legs spread slightly. You feel vulnerable like this, but there's also a sense of empowerment in knowing that you've driven him to such lengths of desire.

Joel steps back to appreciate the view, his eyes darkening with lust as they roam over your naked body. "You are a masterpiece," he says reverently, his gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs before traveling up to meet your eyes. "And I am going to worship every inch of you."

Before you can respond, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your thighs as he buries his face between your legs. His tongue swipes across your sensitive flesh, and a moan escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you. Joel's tongue delves deeper, lapping at your folds and teasing your clit with gentle flicks. You gasp, arching into his touch as he explores you with a skill that leaves you panting for more. His hands squeeze your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. You feel the world around you melt away as his attention focuses solely on bringing you pleasure.

As he works his magic between your legs, Joel's other hand travels up to cup one of your breasts, tweaking a nipple gently before rolling it between his fingers. The sensation sends shockwaves of desire coursing through you, heightening the pleasure he's already coaxing from below. Your hips buck against him in response to the exquisite torment and ecstasy that overwhelms you.

You can feel yourself growing wetter by the moment under his ministrations, and when Joel finally takes your clit into his mouth with a soft suckling sound that echoes in the quiet room, it's almost too much to bear. He sucks gently at first before increasing the pressure until your whole body tenses and shudders with release. As the waves of pleasure crash over you, Joel's mouth never leaves your sensitive flesh. He laps at you with long, languid strokes, drawing out your orgasm until you're left trembling and gasping for air. Your body is still pulsing with the aftershocks when he finally pulls back, his lips glistening with your arousal.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "You taste as sweet as I imagined," he growls, his voice rough with desire. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of satisfaction. The sight of him tasting you is incredibly erotic, and you feel a fresh surge of arousal at the thought of him enjoying your pleasure so thoroughly. "Come on now, be a good girl and follow me,” he says, rising to his feet. He reaches for the chain between the handcuffs, using it to guide you off the desk and toward the plush leather couch that sits against the far wall of his office.

You stumble slightly, still dizzy from your orgasm, but Joel's strong arm wraps around your waist, holding you steady. He positions you on the couch, your back against the soft leather and your hands still cuffed, placing them above your head. He kneels beside you, his body looming over yours as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you dizzy. "Spread those pretty legs for me, darlin'," he murmurs against your lips, and you comply without hesitation, eager for whatever he has planned next. He reaches down to stroke your inner thighs. "You're so wet for me, so ready," he says, his voice filled with approval.

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock nudging against your slick entrance. You look up at him, your eyes meeting his in a silent plea for more. He responds with a slow, deliberate thrust that fills you completely. The sensation of him inside you is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out in pleasure.

"That's it, such a goodgirl, aren’tcha?" he groans, beginning to move inside you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting and writhing beneath him. "I know baby, s'big but you can take it darlin. C’mon take me inside that pretty pussy.”

His thrusts grow more urgent, more demanding, and you meet each one with a desperation that matches his own. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, punctuated by your cries of pleasure and his low, guttural moans.

Joel's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation is almost too much to bear, and you feel another orgasm building within you, stronger and more intense than the first. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands. "Wanna feel you make a sweet mess on my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you explode around him, your body convulsing with the force of your release. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're left limp and boneless beneath him.

Just as the waves of your orgasm subsides, Joel slowly withdraws from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He stands before you, his cock glistening with your arousal, and there's a predatory glint in his eyes that sends a thrill of anticipation through you.

"On your knees, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl that brooks no argument. You scramble to obey, the handcuffs clinking together as you shift your position on the couch. He steps closer, his cock at eye level, and you can't help but lick your lips in anticipation.

Joel's cock is a sight to behold—a testament to his virility and raw masculinity. It's thick and long, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulses. The shaft is smooth and warm to the touch, the skin soft yet taut over the steel-hard erection beneath. His girth is substantial. The head of his cock is a deep shade of pink, almost purple with engorgement, and it glistens with a bead of precum that entices you like the sweet promise of a popsicle on a sweltering summer day. You can't help but lean forward, extending your tongue to taste him. The salty-sweet flavor of his essence dances on your taste buds as you lap at him, eliciting a deep groan of pleasure from Joel that vibrates through his body and into yours.

"Open wide," he instructs, his hand fisting his shaft as he guides himself toward your waiting mouth. You part your lips obediently, and he slides inside, filling your mouth with his impressive girth. He tastes musky and salty, a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"That's it, baby girl," he groans, his fingers threading through your hair as he begins to thrust gently into your mouth. "Take it nice and deep."

You relax your throat, trying to accommodate his size as he sets a steady rhythm, fucking your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts. You can feel the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag, wanting to please him, to show him that you can handle everything he gives you.

"Such a good girl," he praises, his words spurring you on. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth."

His praise washes over you, filling you with a sense of pride and arousal. You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss with pleasure. His grip on your hair tightens, and he pulls you closer, pushing deeper into your throat.

"Fuck, yes," he groans, his hips jerking as he hits the perfect spot. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You can feel the tension building in his body, the way his thighs tremble slightly with each thrust. You know he's close, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to the edge fills you with a sense of power.

Suddenly, he pulls out, his cock leaving your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," he says, his voice strained. "Wanna come inside ya baby, make a mess in that tasty cunt."

He helps you to your feet and guides you back to the desk, bending you over it so that your ass is in the air and gives you a light smack to one cheek. He reaches between your legs, his fingers easily sliding into your soaked pussy. "Goddamn baby, you're still so wet," he marvels, his fingers pumping in and out of you with a rhythm that quickly has you panting for more.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his cock, slamming into you with a force that makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure. He sets a brutal pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

"You feel that, darlin'?" he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "That's me claiming what's mine."

His words send a jolt of desire through you, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. You can feel another orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly.

"Come for me one more time," he commands, his hand reaching around to strum your clit with quick, expert strokes. "Wanna feel you milk my cock."

His words push you over the edge, and you come around him, your entire core pulsing around his girth and with a final, powerful thrust, Joel buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his own release. You can feel him filling you up, the warmth of his seed spreading through you as he groans out his pleasure.

Spent, he collapses on top of you, his body heavy and sated. After a moment, he pulls out and helps you to stand, his hands gentle as he uncuffs you and massages your wrists.

"You are somethin’ else that's for sure babygirl," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You smile up at him, "I'm glad I could make you feel good," you reply with a soft voice.

Joel chuckles and gives you a quick, playful swat on the ass. "Make me feel good? Baby girl, you blew my mind."

He reaches into a drawer and pulls out a sleek, black whip. "Next time," he says, holding it up for you to see, "we can play with this. But for now, I think we've both had enough excitement for one day."

You stand there for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of your encounter, and then you remember—your dress is in tatters on the floor. You gather the remnants of your clothing, holding them up in front of you like a shield. "What do I do about this?" you ask.

Joel looks at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What size are you, darlin'?" he asks, reaching for his phone on the desk.

You tell him your size, still feeling a bit flustered as he dials a number and speaks into the receiver. "Hey, Lexi? Yeah, I need you to pick up a dress for our guest here.” He looks at you questioningly, and you repeat your size for his benefit. "Got it. And make it something nice—surprise me.” There's a brief pause as he listens to his assistant's response before hanging up the phone with a satisfied nod. "Lexi will take care of everything," he assures you with a wink that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach once again despite yourself.

True to his word, less than twenty minutes later, there's a knock on the office door. Lexi, Joel's assistant, enters the room with a professional smile and several shopping bags from high-end boutiques. "Here you go, Mr. Miller," she says, setting them down next to where you're standing, like this is completely normal. "I hope these will suffice."

"Thank you, Lexi," Joel responds with a nod of appreciation. "I'm sure they'll be perfect." Lexi exits the room as quickly as she came in, leaving you once again alone with Joel. He gestures toward the bags with a playful smile. "Go on, darlin'. Pick your favorite."

You rummage through the bags and find an elegant black dress that looks like it would fit you perfectly. It's sophisticated yet sexy—just like the man who bought it for you. With a shy smile, you hold it up for Joel to see.

"Perfect choice," he says approvingly. "Why don't you try it on?"

You slip into the dress, feeling its soft fabric hug your curves in all the right places. When you turn around to show Joel, his eyes light up with appreciation. "You look stunning," he murmurs sincerely while walking over towards where you were standing before wrapping an arm around your waist then pulling you closer so he could whisper into your ear "But then again I knew you would." His words send shivers down your spine causing goosebumps to form all over your skin despite how warm it was inside his office at this moment.

As Joel takes a moment to drink in the sight of you in the new dress, you can't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes darken with desire, even after everything you've shared, is intoxicating. It's clear that his interest in you isn't just a fleeting attraction—it's something much deeper and more intense.

You smile at him, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Thank you, Joel," you reply softly. "For everything."

He chuckles and shakes his head slightly. "Don't thank me yet, darlin'. The day's still young. Now what do you say I get ya home safe."

With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air between you, Joel helps you into your coat—a thoughtful gesture that makes you feel cared for. He escorts you out of his office and down to the parking garage where his sleek black sports car is waiting. The ride back to your place is filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, the chemistry between you two undeniable and electric.

When he pulls up in front of your building, he turns off the engine and turns to face you. "I had a great time with you today," he says sincerely, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I hope this isn't the last time I get to see that beautiful smile of yours."

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling bold despite the vulnerability coursing through you. "I don't think that will be a problem," you say with a playful smirk.

Joel grins back at, “that's my good girl.”

As you step out of the car, the cool air wraps around you. You turn to say goodbye, but he's already getting out of the driver's seat, coming around to your side of the car.

"Let me walk you to your door," he says, offering his arm with a gentlemanly charm that belies the fiery passion you've shared. You accept with a nod, and together, you walk toward the entrance of your building.

The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the unspoken knowledge of what transpired between you two. As you reach your door, you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Thank you again, Joel, for today," you say softly, "for everything."

Joel smiles at you. "The pleasure was all mine," he replies with a wink and leans in close enough that his breath ghosts over your lips when he speaks again. "But I have a feeling we're just getting started."

With those words hanging in the air between you like a promise of more incredible days to come, Joel takes a step back and heads back toward his car parked by curbside leaving only echoes behind him.

As the door to your building clicks shut behind you, you lean against it. The memory of his touch, his kiss, his words—they all send shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You can't help but smile to yourself as you replay the events of the day in your mind, each moment more thrilling than the last.

You're startled out of your reverie by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. Fishing it out, you see a notification on the screen - a new message from Joel. Your heart skips a beat as you open it, curiosity and excitement mingling within you.

1:07PM: Can't wait to unwrap that pretty little package again."

The words alone are enough to send a jolt of desire through you, but then you notice an attachment—a picture. With trembling hands, you open it and find exactly what you were hoping for - a photo of Joel's large burly hand wrapping around his even thicker, larger cock, hard and ready for you once more. You realize he must have taken that in his car.

Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight of Joel's arousal, so potent and vivid on your screen. The knowledge that he's thinking about you, that he's hard and ready again so soon after your encounter, sends a thrill of power through you. You type out a quick response, your fingers flying over the keys with a boldness that matches the newfound confidence he's awakened in you.

1:10PM I hope you're not driving and texting that picture. Keep your eyes on the road, Mr. Miller. you tease, adding a winking emoji for good measure.

His response is almost immediate, a testament to his eagerness.

1:10PM Don't worry, darlin'. I'm parked outside your building. Couldn't resist sending you a little something to dream about tonight.

You can't help but smile at his words, your body already aching for his touch once more. But before you can respond, another message comes through with an address.

1:11PM Tomorrow, 8 PM. My place. Wear something comfortable and easy to take off.

1:12PM Yes sir.

1:13PM Oh baby you're walking Into whole new territory calling me sir. I'm going to put that pretty mouth to good use tomorrow.

Just as you're about to put your phone down a last message comes through

1:13PM And leave the underwear at home.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal

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sleepnoises · 23 hours

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Ask Polly: How Am I Supposed to Make Friends in My Late 20s?

Is there any creature alive with higher, more impossible standards than a 28-year-old? The only difference between a 28-year-old woman and a 38-year-old woman is that one of them tries to hide how few friends she has, and the other will email you out of the blue and demand to hang out after meeting you for exactly four seconds in a room full of retired people and divorced people and new moms. The late-30s woman knows that it’s no big deal to want to make new friends. Maybe it won’t be a life-changing time, or maybe you’ll be acquaintances, or maybe you’ll be vacationing together down the road. It’s worth a shot. [...] So the second thing I want you to know is that, in order to make very close friends in a natural, organic way, you have to cast a wide net and be accepting and give it time. You can’t use the aggressive, early twentysomething’s tactics, because it poisons the whole process to believe that you’re trying to hunt and trap the perfect BFF. [...] Some of your closest, lifelong friends may not seem like close, lifelong friends for the first five or six years you know them. Seriously. It takes time to figure out who matters, who listens, who tells the truth, who comes through in a pinch, who’s down to earth, who appreciates you and accepts your flaws, who says the right thing at the right time, and who makes sense all around. [...] The more you try — without skyrocketing expectations, without circular thoughts that say YOU ARE A FRIENDLESS FREAK — the easier it’ll be. The more you do it, the happier you’ll be, even if no lifelong friends emerge immediately. You should do it now in order to prepare you for doing it 20 years from now, because you’ll ALWAYS have to do it. You don’t just get the big group of buddies and then sleepwalk through the rest of your life. Life isn’t like that. [...] This life is not perfect. This world is not a perfect place. Sometimes it’s nice to sip a drink, and repeat yourself, among people who aren’t perfect, and don’t expect you to be perfect either. Aim low, open your heart, and let them in.

selected paragraphs (speedrun) of an ask polly that changed my life a little bit // Ask Polly: How Am I Supposed to Make Friends in My Late 20s? by Heather Havrilesky

#''who knows how it is. just wait and see'' was big news to my my control freak scarcity mentality past self #applies to a variety of situations.#i read this a number of years ago but it would be really funny if i had read it last week #⛅

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reidsdaisies · 2 days

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༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x fem!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; spencer walks you home after your first date together. you both hope there will be many more. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; kissing. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.6k ༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; based on a conversation w/ @mandarinmoons so basically it’s for her <33 hehe

cm masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

Despite how late it is, the sky above pitch black - illuminated only by the moon and stars, the way the two of you walk is without care and hurry. The saccharine sound of Spencer’s laughter fills your ears and makes a bright smile form on your face. Tonight’s date may quite possibly be the best one you’ve ever been on – and it’s all thanks to the man beside you.

When the sounds of laughter lull and you’re both quiet, Spencer speaks up.

“Would you.. maybe..” he trails off, taking in a deep breath as he searches for the words. He knows what he wants to say, or rather ask, but the nerves are overwhelming his senses.

“Are you asking me for a second date?”

“Are you gonna say yes?” His nose scrunches, a slightly awkward yet very hopeful expression on his face.

You look away, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to stifle your smile as you keep walking. You let your face relax, looking up at Spencer after a moment passes.

“What do you think?”

“Well, based on how tonight’s date went, the way you laughed at my physics jokes, your body language, the fact you very eagerly accepted the jacket I gave you, and keep bumping into me but don’t seem to be bothered by it, I’d say you’ve enjoyed this date and I assume you would be up for another. Am I right to assume?”

“Right as always, Doctor.” You teasingly say, looking down as you entwine your fingers with his, praying he’ll be accepting of the contact.

To your delight, he’s more than accepting, grasping your hand firmly but gently.

Not 5 minutes after you’d agreed to a second date (and hopefully if things keep sailing smoothly, many more), you’d reached your destination, your home.

As you walk up the few steps, Spencer walks with you. His eyes meet yours, and you can tell by the look he’s giving you that he’s reluctant to let go and finally say goodbye.

“Spence?” You softly giggle, looking at him sympathetically.

He snaps out his puppy dog-like state, dropping your hand. With your now free hand, you pull your key from your purse, turning the metal in the lock.

Without thinking, Spencer leans forward, gracing your cheek with a kiss.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?” You blow out your nose in a half-laugh as you feel a warmth creep up your cheeks.

He’s visibly proud of himself for the action, just nodding and watching as you step backward through the doorway, into your home.

You hold onto the door, waving at the man standing across from you.

“Get home safe, pretty boy.”

He just shakes his head, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants, turning around to start heading down the steps, but you don’t let him get far before reaching out for his tie and pulling him back towards you. He stumbles a bit, caught off guard by the sudden movement, but he doesn’t have a second to think before his lips are covered by yours and his eyes are closing in delightful surprise.

His soft lips part, allowing for your tongue to slip past. His hands flys back to rest on your neck, kissing you back with just as much passion as you give him.

It feels like forever but still too short a time before you pull back, faces inches apart, breath mingling.

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

“Uh-huh, goodnight,” he whispered, breathless and nodding.

Spencer Reid fluff taglist: @tw1npeaks @bellasprettywords @spencerssoup @hiireadstuff @thievin-stealing @onlymyleftsideisgay

If you’d like to join my taglist click here!

Let me know your thoughts about this in the comments or my inbox and like & reblog to support! Much love <33

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meamiiikiii · 2 days

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[reverse entry AU]

so glad the work week is over!

no more meetings!

what do you mean its only tuesday.

#isat #in stars and time #isat siffrin #reverse entry au #isat modern office au #isat spoilers #<- not REALLY but its blink and u miss it tbh #and is hardly legible #and probably doesnt make much sense as a spoiler for regular isat tbf #its more of a spoiler if u know the spoiler from isat to begin with????????#i think i am starting to confuse myself on if this is really a spoiler ASFASDAFRA #inspired by my week so far thumbs up #sometimes u end up in too many meetings about the same subject and wonder why you are even here #proceed to zone out till hear key words #tune in and respond #then continue zoning out #omg just like beloved indie game in stars and timeeeee #for legal reasons that is an exaggerated explanation to further enhance the joke thumbs up part 2 #alternative takes that build on this same idea include #staring at computer screen in general trying to remember what you were doing #or silently judging a computer program for freezing on you for the seventh time in the past twenty minutes #or just staring blankly at the screen in general as people do yanno thumbs up part 3 #oh also to note yea this is not in the office lmao #modern times means sometimes you also get to have wfh days yippeeee so siffrin is in his apartment #the star is probably sitting in the kitchen next to the flavor tree at this moment in time dont worry about it aha #WAIT i just realized i forgor the shine in siffrins eyes OOPS #actually wait nvm this is fine it adds to this i think HAHAHA #okay tag talk over !!!!

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manuscrypts · 2 days

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ON COLD NIGHTS — jiyan. wuwa

CONTENT WARNINGS + TAGS — sfw, unedited drabble, mdni, nightmares, hints at possible trauma, typical fighting TD’s, mentions of blood and fire, war etc. all lower caps

AUTHORS NOTES — I basically woke up in a cold sweat to write this, no editing or nothing, I couldn’t stop thinking about jiyans story when reading it after unlocking it and now I wanna make this a bigger fic??? but for now it’ll be a drabble of sorts

the sound of the crackling fire surrounded him, the heat burning and melting his flesh, the heat and smoke blinding him. tacet discords plagued the jinzhou as far as he could see, and they constantly fed on the frequencies of his fallen comrades.

beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and made his hair stick to his flushed skin. his breath was ragged and heavy, but there was no time for him to stop and try to regain his composure. wave after wave of TD’s came at him and each time he swung and struck them down with ease.

time and time again, he ignored the faces of his dead friends and soldiers, his only thought being that of protecting the city — he couldn’t let it fall, even if it meant falling himself.

the flames raged on, and so did he. running through the chaos and striking down anything that came near him. jiyan noticed how the screams and crackles faded away, replaced with voices of those he knew.

“that’s a clueless kid! how can we trust him with our lives?”

“you said you would protect us…but why?”

he continued fighting, trying to keep the voices at bay, but they surrounded him, suffocated him.

“jiyan, what on earth are you fighting for?”

he let out a loud scream as he fought, with every hit and cut he took, he took down two more enemies. he was bloody, tears rolled down his cheeks but he knew he couldn’t stop. his body hurt more than he thought possible, his limbs so heavy that he swore at any moment he’d sink into the ground, swallowed up by the earth to never be seen again.

his knuckles turned white from the grip he had on his spear, using it as leverage to push himself back to his feet. and that’s when he heard it, a gentle, distant voice muttering his name. he looked around but couldn’t see where it was coming from, but the voice enveloped him in a sense of safety, security. it was like it wrapped around him and protected him from the oncoming slaughter of monsters and unsavoury voices.

“jiyan…” he jolted awake, unable to catch his breath, sweat dripping from every part of him.

“what am i fighting for?” he whispered to himself as he held his head in his hands.

your hand rubbed up and down his back gently, not wanting to scare him anymore than he already was.

“are you okay?” your voice was quiet and you leant down to try and find his eyesight.

he nodded but you could tell it was hesitant, he was lying but he didn’t want you to know. he didn’t have the heart to tell you how often he was plagued by that nightmare, how many times he’d awoken in the middle of the night in a panic and drenched in his own sweat. but you knew, you could tell.

“you know what? let’s go for a walk…” you wrapped your hand around his and tugged at it, urging him to stand up and come with you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I think I’ll just—“

“jiyan, come on, just trust me, okay?” he sighed as you spoke and glanced up at you with heavy and tired eyes, but he obliged, how could he not?

the both of you left his tent and walked away from the camp, your hand never leaving his as you guided him through the borderlands and up a hill nearby.

“I remember when you told me something, a long time ago but it’s something I always wanted to do…”

he didn’t reply, but instead helped you up a steep bit of cliff face, not even questioning why you were making him climb in the middle of the night.

“…I remember you telling me that the borderlands might not have the charm of the city, but there is something about it that is just as beautiful in its own right.”

jiyan remembered the conversation. there wasn’t many conversations with you that he forgot, each and every one of them seared into his brain like a cattle brand, your conversations were an escape for him.

“you told me not to worry because you’d protect me,” you chuckled as you both eventually reached the top, and you guided him to the flat grassy land just a bit further ahead, “you said I should accompany you to witness..”

his voice cut yours off, filling in what he had said to you all those years ago, “witness the full moon and twinkling stars that grace the tranquil night skies.”

jiyan squeezed your hand in his, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips as he stared up towards the sky above him.

you sat down and patted the grass beside you, gesturing him to lay beside you and without much hesitation he did. he rested his head in your lap, his hand reaching for yours once again and he sighed.

“thank you…for this.”

“you sounded like you needed it, and well, you were right. it’s beautiful.” you smiled widely as you stared up as well, watching as thousands of stars twinkled gracefully through the inky black skies.

jiyan’s eyes were no longer looking at the sky, but at you instead. the way the moon’s light delicately highlighted your face in the most perfect way, the stars reflecting in your widened eyes, the breeze blowing through your hair.

“yeah…unbelievably beautiful, I know.”

you just wouldn’t know he wasn’t talking about the same thing you were anymore.

#⋆˚✿˖° 📄 ── ( 𝘒𝘈𝘐’𝘚 𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘜𝘚𝘊𝘙𝘐𝘗𝘛𝘚 )#jiyan x reader #jiyan wuwa #wuwa x reader #wuthering waves #jiyan x gender neutral reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuwa #jiyan x you #mdni + support banners from @/cafekitsune #jiyan banner by me xoxo

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readychilledwine · 2 days

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✨️ACOTAR Hands Handcanons✨️

Warnings - sexual references

A/N - "But liz! Where is Az?" I didn't include Azriel because I don't think some people understand how brutally scarred his hands are. A lot of people headcanon him wear rings and watches to distract from his scarring, but his scarring would be so brutal from his hands being set on fire with oil that wearing jewelry for him would be nearly impossible and more than likely very uncomfortable both physically and in the sense that jewelry will draw attention to his hands, something we know canon Azriel hates. If it is wanted, I will do a reblog with Azzy's hands, but they will be accurate, not pretty.

Also, if you're a hand whore like I am, you have to go look at this post from the lovely @thehighladywrites about asking for hand pics 🥵🥵 it's one of my favorites.

✨️ Acotar Body Headcanons Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

Rhys

Rhys is a firm believer in hands speaking of how well you care for yourself, so the man have perfect hands.

Rhys keeps his nails neat and trimmed, his cuticles cut, and his nail bed moisturized.

Rhys has fine hand creams imported from across the seas. It's made with water from some river you don't remember the name of. It matches his skincare line. Very spoiled Illyrian baby.

Rhys does have calloused hands, but they are not rough and dry. The calloused mainly rest towards the top of his palm near where his fingers begin. It's one small sigh of his skill with blades.

Rhys like to accessorize, but not too much, a few unique rings and a bracelet

Cassian

We're just here to make sure @sarawritestories can't sleep without dreaming of Cassian.

These are some of my favorite hands in all of Hollywood. Say hello to the hands of Alexander Skarsgård. His hands are massive.

Cassian does have rougher hands, but he can not help it. He's tried Rhysie little princess routine, but it doesn't work. That is more than likely due to the fact that he's constantly training and teaching someone.

You truly do not mind, though. Cassian's callouses and small scars in his hands remind you that you are safe. That no one will ever harm you as long as he is around.

One of Cassian's favorite acts of service you provide for him is little at home hand care sessions. You will soak his hands in warm water and then wash and care for them. You trim his nails, apply cuticle oils, and then use a very expensive lotion that helps keep his hands softer.

Cassian's hands are constantly on you. His favorite placement is when he gets to cup under your breasts. Preferably below your shirt. And he doesn't care who sees him doing it. His second favorite placement is your hips or ass.

Cassian does not accessorize since he rarely does not have his hand siphons on. The only jewelry on his hands is his wedding band

Lucien

Soft, warm, and gentle. Lucien's hands are a personification of the male himself.

They are not too large, but they're definitely big, and Lucien has strong hands.

Lucien tries his very best to keep his hands very soft he is constantly greeting and meeting new fae as an emissary, so he ensures his hands are covered while training.

Lucien also knows you appreciate how soft his hands are. He loves watching as you lean into his touch. He loves watching you shiver when he runs them along your body.

Lucien will wear jewelry for special occasions. Otherwise, he tends to avoid it. You never know when he will need to fish with his hair and bare hands to impress you. He had a reputation to maintain there.

Eris

Eris is constantly wearing rings and fine jewelry. His hands are part of his mask of cruelty only you and a few others get to see beyond.

Eris hates his hands. He hates how they've been used to cause pain. He hates how they remind him of his father's, he hates the small scars on them.

It almost confuses him when his hands bring you pleasure. When he watches as you fall apart under his touch.

He has started to care for them more now that he has you. His beautiful wonderful you.

You have noticed the rough skin getting softer. How his nail beds seem healthier. You catch him one night with his expensive hand creme and cuticle oils and your heart melts.

Soon, the jewelry becomes a little less and less, but you told him it would be a lie of you ever said you didn't love the way rings sat on his slender hands.

Nesta

Nail, simple, and with a touch of sparkle.

Nesta keeps her hands very pretty and very soft.

Her nails are also always professionally done on Rhysand's dime.

Nesta goes to the salon once a month. She gets the works. The expensive manicures. Rhys owes her, and she wants pretty hands.

Her grandmother and mama told her hands can make or break a marriage, and this is something she can not shake.

She loves clean, simple polish. Neutral colors or a French tip, that's all. For special occasions, she will do an iridescent polish.

As Lady Death, she tries not to wear too much jewelry, but she does have two favorite rings she wears. One from you, one from Cassian.

Elain

I am a garden hobby girl, so this one was fun.

Elain keeps her nails very short. She is constantly struggling with dirt under and around her nails, so she figures keeping them short is best.

Elain has surprisingly rough hands. A garden is a lot of manual labor, and she refuses to wear gloves, so she constantly dealing with little cuts and callouses.

You bought Elain a nail brush and special soaps meant to help her keep her nails clean so it doesn't interfere with her love of baking or... other activities involving you.

Elain's hands are very small, but they fit perfectly into yours.

Feyre

This is the hands I identified most with.

Feyre's hands are constantly covered in paint now that the lands are in a time of peace.

She's been known to wipe her palette knife off on the back of her hand or dab a paint brush on them if she picks up too much color. Or use them to swatch shades as she's mixing.

It is messy, but you adore it. You love helping her peel off the bigger chunks and helping her scrub them clean.

Underneath that paint, her hands can be a little dry, so you two have been caught many times sneaking into Rhysand's room to steal his hand creme.

Feyre keeps her nails a medium length. She will paint them for fun every so often, but she sees no point since they are typically covered in her medium of choice.

Mor

The baddie of the group.

Mor keeps her hands ready to greet royalty. They are so soft, so well kept, and constantly being pampered.

Mor used hand creme at least once and hour.

She keeps her nails longer, minus two on each hand. Iykyk.

Her nails have to be red. She will not paint them any color but her power color.

She is constantly wearing a ton of rings and jewelry as well.

I personally see Mor as a gold tone girlie.

The only ring she consistently wears is her wedding ring. Otherwise, all her other jewelry is subject to change.

Amren

Nails sharp enough to rip your eye out. Sorry, Lucien.

Amren sees her hands as weapons and her nails as weapons as well. But like all powerful weapons, they need to hidden.

She hides them using fae beauty standards. Manicures, jewelry, nail polish. Amren fully believes she's fooling other fae with those daggers attached to five small fingers but she isn't.

Amren does not do two curtesy nails. Amren is a starfish. You should be spoiling her. Not the other way around.

Finding out she could do jewels on her manicure was a life changing moment for her.

She practically purrs when she gets a fresh set now.

You swear she is secretly a fire drake with the amount of jewelry she has for her hands and on her nails.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

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cassandracain52 · 2 days

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Dick gave Robin to Jason

Ok so I was reading up on some of Jason Todd’s original origins (I couldn’t remember a specific detail) and it was all stuff I was very familiar with

Until I got to Batman 1940 issue #368

Where we see Jason Todd wearing not the classic Robin uniform but this

Which first of all

He had pants

And second of all what those two are doing in this panel is discussing what new name Batman’s partner should have instead of Robin. Because when Jason first shows up as Robin in Batman 1940 issue #366, it wasn’t Bruce’s decision

Bruce is surprised to see him (mostly because at first glance he thinks Jason is Dick but I digress)

and more than that he actually gets upset that Jason put the costume on in the first place. Because it wasn’t his to take

Bruce proceeds to explain that he refuses to allow Jason to steal Dick’s identity because Robin belongs to him

Hence the need for a new identity

It’s in the middle of them discussing this that Dick shows up with a box in hand, asking Jason how he’s doing and starts talking about how he felt when he first became Batman’s partner. He then tells them he saw Vicki Vale’s photo of “Batman and Robin” stopping the Joker

Jason immediately apologizes, saying that it was never his intention to try and steal Dick’s identity. But it’s Dick that stops him and tells him that it’s ok because he’s no longer Batman’s partner and that he’s done trying to be like Batman

He talks about how he’s the leader of the Titans and that it’s time his name reflected the fact he was no longer Batman’s partner

It’s then he finally opens the box that he came in with to reveal the Robin uniform

He proceeds to then give it to Jason and more than that tells Jason that he deserves to be Robin and that he explicitly gives Jason permission to use his identity

He then leaves saying he has to get back to the Titans and that he has to figure out what he wants to be next

but not before calling Jason “Robin”

There was no big betrayal or fight, nothing was stolen(permanently anyway).

Dick gave Robin to Jason and then left on peaceful terms

Now obviously this version of the story has been long since retconned and rebooted a dozen times over, but I still found the fact that Dick had originally given the Robin mantle to Jason very interesting

#Also just “do I pass mustard?” Is an Iconic line #i just think this is neat #dc comics #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #I had only ever read the newer issues for this specifically and thought it was always taken without permission #I mean yeah Dick does eventually end up giving him the suit every time but it is not this civil #does any of this make sense #or am I just rambling #HE HAD PANTS #Sorry just can’t get over that bit #Did everybody know this?#Ignore my aggressive italicizing #i do it a lot #Like Dick gets over it in the other versions but theres a lot more yelling/aggression

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castiwls · 1 day

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you know how to ball i know aristotle - a.d

Paring; art x reader

Requested; anon

Synopsis; Your boyfriends been begging you to try tennis for months and you finally cave

Warnings; none

Notes;that backwards cap does things to me. reqs and inbox are open !

Masterlist

‘I can’t do it.” You groaned throwing your hands in the air as you paced your side of the court. “Don’t say that.” Art grinned bouncing a ball off the court. He watched you pace for a moment before gently hitting the ball across the net.

It bounced before rolling towards your feet. You paused staring down at it before looking over to him. “Try hitting it to me.” Art made a swinging gesture with his racket. “Don’t race to meet the ball, let it come to you.”

“If I miss this we’re done.” You rolled your eyes before grabbing the ball.

Your boyfriend had the patience of a saint. You’d both been out for hours and so far you’d barely managed to get the ball off your side of the court never mind actually hit the ball to him.

“You won't miss it. Just remember what I showed you okay?” Art smiled before gesturing to you.

Taking a breath you raised the ball up before letting go and swinging. The racket vibrated slightly in your hold as the ball bounced off it. A small noise of surprise left your lips as you watched the ball fly over the net.

Art watched as the ball landed beside him. “See.” He teased slightly. “You can do it.” He reached up, readjusting his cap before placing his racket down. “You just gotta have faith.”

“That.” You pointed to the ball. “Was a fluke, I think I've missed more than you have in your entire life.” Art rolled his eyes coming around the net to stand beside you.

“You’ve missed like ten balls, don't be so dramatic.” He poked you lightly in the arm before moving behind you. His arms wrapped around you as he readjusted your stance. “That was a good serve.” He leaned down slightly, his breath fanning your ear.

“I'm sensing a but.” You teased swallowing slightly. A small chuckle left him as he squeezed your wrist. “But…it could be better.”

“Hmm.”

Art pressed a kiss behind your ear before raising your arm up and making a swooping motion. “You're too tense. Relax a bit.” A small shiver ran down your spine as he ran a hand over your hip, moving you back slightly.

A small gasp left your lips as you readjusted your feet. “Kinda hard to relax when you're breathing down my neck.” You squeaked, redness slowly growing on your cheeks. “I’m helping.” He defends making the motion with your arm again before continuing to talk.

Closing your eyes for a moment you sucked in a breath focusing on the movement of your arm and his voice rather than the way his hand continued to squeeze your hip.

Art’s eyes moved from your hand down to your face as he moved his head slightly. A small smile pulled on his lips as he noticed the redness on your cheeks. He watched you for a moment before narrowing his eyes.

“You're not paying attention.” He poked at your hip. “Yes, I am.” You defend turning your head slightly to look at him. “Really? What did I just say?” He tilted his head slightly, watching in amusement as you fell quiet. “You…you were talking about tennis.” You smiled.

Art shook his head. “What about tennis?” He pushed leaning in slightly. His nose brushed against yours as you hummed for a moment. You pretended to think before shrugging.

He laughed releasing your arm and letting his hand slowly drag down your arm and to your chest before resting it on your other hip. “Pay attention.” He pressed a kiss to your lips before pulling back and holding the ball up.

“Try again.”

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eddiesxangel · 1 day

Note

Your requests are open aaah 💕 OKAY this scenario for Eddie has been on my mind for a while - imagine hooking up with him (could either be a fuckboy or not) and you're worried you might turn him off when you're riding him because you easily get tired (and in past relationships you'd get criticized for it too because those jerks expected you to do all the work).

in the middle of it eddie can sense something wrong and at first you're hesitant to tell him then you eventually give in, scared he'll stop but Eddie just smiles and sweet and just says "well why didn't you say so sweetheart? hold on" and then suddenly he's wrapping his arms around your waist and thrust up into you like an animal and you get overwhelmed with pleasure and Eddie loves the little whimpers / sounds you're making as you bury your face into his neck 😏✨

-@/daisymunson (because sadly it's not my main huhu)

Sorry this took so long

Your chest was heaving as your poor legs have been working tirelessly to bounce on Eddie’s cock.

“Fuck baby, you like that don’t you, fucking so good” Eddie moaned “I’m going to call you my little bunny. Love hoping on my cock.”

He loved that you took charge that so far every time you’ve fucked, which was only three, you were on top. He could watch your tits bounce for him as your rode him, how your fingers dug into his shoulders for balance. How you would lean down into him to kiss which only made him slip in deeper.

You wanted to enjoy yourself, you loved the feeling of his cock brushing up against your inner walls but, god you were so tired.

The pain in your thighs was more intense than the feeling of Eddie inside of you. The only thing you could focus on was the burning in your thighs, you were worried you would cramp up if you kept going so you slowed down.

“What’s wrong? Are you not into this?” Eddie could see you were off in another world. You hadn’t been making as much eye contact, your face was scrunching up like you were in pain.

“No ,I am… it’s just” you trailed off with heavy breaths as you paused.

“Tell me” he squeezed the sides of your hips, only making your pussy clench down on him.

“My legs are tired…” you let out an embarrassed laugh.

“Baby why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought you’d be turned off if I made you do all that work…”

“Why the hell would I be turned off by that?” He guides your chin with a single finger to look at him.

Your eyes looked down as your face turned hot. The other men you’d been with expected you to be in top, so what would make Eddie any different?

“Because everyone else has…”

“Everyone else— who? what?" Eddie stumbled over his words. He was dumbfounded. "so you never had someone on top of you?!" he needed to clarify.

you shamefully shake your head no and eddie moves into action at lightning speed, flipping you on your back unexpectedly.

"now baby, you just lay there and look pretty. Let me do all of the work."

His hard cock re-enters you and at this angle he is so deep inside you let out a cry of pleasure.

Eddie's hips rut into you at a speed at which you could never gain while you were on top. The sensation was so overwhelming you lost yourself in the moment.

Your soft mewls quickly turned into long outwards moans of pleasure.

Eddie’s never see you so fucked out there was no way you were getting on top in a while if this is how he could make you feel.

His big hands were pressed to the backs of your plush thighs, pushing them as wide as you’re let them.

“Fuck you’re taking my cock so good baby, sucking me in so good it’s hard to pull out.” His eyes focused on the place where you connected. He loved seeing the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock with each thrust into you.

You were lost in the feeling, overpowered by what Eddie was able to give you. Was this the kind of sex you’re been missing out on? Being taken care of your partner. Yes it was.

Your body started to tighten as the impending orgasm was to wash over you. You felt light headed and the only thing you could focus on was how Eddie’s cock pounding inside your pussy. Your hands grabbed his back and your legs wrapped around him like a koala bear, pulling him closer and closer. You never wanted to disconnect your bodies after this.

“Eddie!” You screamed as your pussy clamped down on his cock and a rush of pleasure flowed through your body.

“Yea that’s it, fucking cum on my cock” his hips never slowed, the room was filled with the wet snaking sound of skin on skin. The room smelled of sex and sweat. Your haze never lifted until Eddie’s hips sputtered as he came.

You broke the minutes of silence of catching your breath.

“I didn’t know it could be like that”

“There are so many more positions I want you in baby we are just getting started.

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson request #eddie munson #tj’s mailbox #requests

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mysteryshoptls · 2 days

Text

SSR Deuce Spade - Platinum Jacket Vignette

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: This museum really has a ton of paintings. Not that I really know how to act in quiet places like this…

Deuce: Oh, but I can't use that as an excuse. I'll have to be a good supporter for the museum, just like any honor student would!

???: Is this dome… a teapot cover? Why would the Card Soldiers be carrying tea?

Deuce: Huh, you don't know, Sebek? Cool, then I'll tell you about it.

Deuce: This painting shows a scene of a trial from one of the Queen of Hearts' legends…

Deuce: And those Card Soldiers aren't actually carrying tea, but a witness for the case: a tiny mouse!

Sebek: Hmph, what's with that smug look? Well, fine, never thought there'd be a day that you'd have something to teach me, I suppose.

Deuce: Heheh. I'm a supporter for the museum, so it makes sense that I can explain something like that.

Deuce: Since I'm a student of Heartslabyul, I made sure to study extra hard all the tales related to the Queen of Hearts or her Card Soldiers.

Sebek: Is that so? Still, did it require two of them to transport a single small mouse?

Deuce: According to the story, it was a crucial witness, so they wanted to make sure it got to the Queen safely.

Deuce: Ah, that reminds me… We had something similar to this painting go down at Heartslabyul just the other day.

Deuce: Though, it wasn't a witness that was getting brought in…

Sebek: What, was there some lout breaking the Queen of Hearts' laws?

Deuce: Yeah. There was this one student who'd been breaking the rules over and over again, and he was finally being brought before Rosehearts-ryōchō for a stern reprimand…

Deuce: When the two guys tasked with hauling him in came to bring him to the Housewarden, that rule-breaker ran.

Sebek: Why do you even have people tasked with hauling others in…? You folk in Heartslabyul have far too many strange duties and rules!

Sebek: But that transgressor is also a coward, fearing reprimand and fleeing without taking responsibility for their actions.

Deuce: Right? He made his bed, he's gotta lie in it.

Sebek: Judging by your manner of speech there, am I right to assume that you helped to secure that transgressor?

Deuce: Yeah. I ran after the guy and caught him in a flash.

Deuce: Not like I've been training my legs or working on quick, explosive power in my sprints while in the Track and Field Club for nothing!

Sebek: Oho, so you captured them. And what were those two that were supposed to have brought him in doing?

Deuce: The guys on duty were apparently so shocked when the rule-breaker ran away that they couldn't move quick enough.

Deuce: But once I brought him back to them, they firmly took hold of him on both sides and brought him to the Housewarden, though.

Sebek: I see. So perhaps the reason why it isn't considered overkill to have two people on duty for such a thing is in case something unexpected occurs.

Deuce: Maybe…? I guess so.

Deuce: Ah, but listen to this. After he finished reprimanding the rule-breaker, Rosehearts-ryōchō praised me for a job well done.

Deuce: "Not only did you capture the transgressor without a moment's delay, but you showed good judgement in allowing the students on duty to do their job as assigned," he said!

Sebek: True, normally you'd do something brash like bringing that offending student directly to Riddle-senpai after capturing him.

Sebek: An unusually calm and mature judgement, coming from you.

Deuce: Hey, nothing "unusual" about it! It's not strange that I was able to think that through.

Deuce: Because, I'm on my way to becoming an honor student!

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Sebek: Oh, this painting… It looks as though it's based on the legend that speaking a wish into a well would make it come true.

Deuce: Yeah, so if you make a wish into a well, it sends your voice back out. I remember that well, 'cause I always thought that was odd.

Sebek: It's merely an echo. What is so odd about that?

Deuce: Huh, an echo?

Sebek: You didn't even know that? I'm speaking of the phenomenon in which sound bounces off of water or walls and is reflected back.

Deuce: Huh… Oh, so is that the same sort of thing as when sounds reverberate in a tunnel?

Sebek: That's right, as tunnels are also primed for echoes.

Deuce: Oh, okay… That actually brings back memories.

Deuce: Whenever I'd be riding through long tunnels, I'd put the pedal to the metal and rev it up so loud.

Sebek: You'd rev what? Are you talking about some kind of music?

Deuce: No, no. I'm talking about a blastcycle, not any instruments or whatever.

Deuce: The engine can make different sounds based on the body of the blastcycle, or even from the way it's ridden.

Deuce: It can make heavy thumping sounds, or low, rolling sounds…

Deuce: And it can be really fun to change up my driving style just to hear those different sounds.

Deuce: Whenever I ended up alongside another driver who knew how to make their own engine sing,

Deuce: It was easy to just end up competing to see who could make their engine rev louder.

Sebek: And what is so fun about that? It just seems to be a cacophony of noise, based on what you're saying.

Deuce: YOU DON'T GET IT AT ALL! It's great because I can feel it to my core.

Deuce: And, it feels sooooo amazing to feel the vibration of the engine echoing off the tunnel walls!

Deuce: AND PICKING UP SPEED IS THE BEST PART!

Deuce: The faster I go, the higher the pitch of the engine…the more that sound echoes in the tunnels…

Deuce: By the end of it all, the only sound I can hear is the blastcycle engine… I just can't get enough of that feeling!

Sebek: Shh, Deuce. You're being too loud, lower your voice. You're going to bother everyone else trying to enjoy the silence.

Deuce: Ah, sorry… Actually, kinda feels weird to get told by you of all people to lower my voice.

Sebek: Why is that? I don’t raise my voice like that unnecessarily.

Deuce: Eh… You seriously saying that right now?

Sebek: Obviously. At any rate, I don't really understand what you were saying about those blastcycles, but…

Sebek: You shouldn't cause a ruckus while riding, unlike what you did just now.

Deuce: Well, obviously I try to ride so I don't bother others on the road… At least, now I do…

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: Oh hey, it's the Lord of the Underworld. I like how brave he looks flying through the sky in this painting.

Deuce: And on top of it all… He's way too cool, rushing to the front lines like that to save his captured comrades!

Sebek: Right. The Lord of the Underworld must have been a truly capable fellow, able to take on even the most difficult missions by himself.

Sebek: One would require proper deliberation and competency to achieve positive results.

Deuce: Urgh… That hits a sore spot…

Sebek: A sore spot…? Ah, you are talking about what happened last week.

Sebek: I remember seeing you, Grim, [Yuu]… and Ace, if I recall. It was while I was heading back from flight class.

Sebek: All four of you were standing like idiots in the hallway, being scolded by Trein-sensei.

Deuce: URGH!!!! You saw that!?

Deuce: I-I didn't plan on it ending with us getting in trouble! It wasn't supposed to end like that…

Sebek: I'm sure it is a ridiculous story… But why not, I'll listen to whatever excuses you come up with.

Deuce: At the start of History of Magic class, Trein-sensei told [Yuu] to read out loud a passage from the textbook.

Deuce: But that page was completely ruined by drool, since Grim fell asleep on it the night before, so it was impossible to read.

Deuce: So, I raised my hand, offering to read it instead.

Sebek: So why did that end up with you all being sent out to the hallway?

Deuce: …I forg… …xtboo…

Sebek: I can't hear you, speak up.

Deuce: I… I'M SAYING I FORGOT THE NECESSARY TEXTBOOK!!!!

Sebek: So you tried to step up, even though you didn't have the textbook… You're a fool who has gone beyond help.

Deuce: Ace was saying something like that, too. Both him and Grim were laughing at me for that.

Deuce: Even though it was really Grim's fault in the first place!!

Deuce: [Yuu] even pointed that out to them, but they wouldn't stop, so…

Deuce: We ended up arguing… Which then got us sent out into the hallway before long to deal with the consequences of our actions.

Sebek: So that's why you were in the hallway. However, I don't understand. Why did you do such an unnecessary thing?

Sebek: Even if Grim or [Yuu] were to be reprimanded, that has nothing to do with you.

Deuce: Nothing to do with me? Come on, there's no way I can let my friends flounder like that.

Deuce: I mean, Grim aside… [Yuu]'s helped me out a ton before, so.

Sebek: Hmph. Then I guess at the very least, next time you should act after you've determined whether you have your textbook or not.

[Sebek walks off]

Deuce: YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME TWICE!

Deuce: Geez, and he walks off after one last parting shot, huh… Ugh. Guess I'll try to shake off this funk by checking out some of the other exhibits.

Deuce: Oh, this is a painting of a girl singing with flowers. She looks like she's having fun, but according to the story…

Deuce: If I remember correctly, she was described as vulgar, rude, and weedy...

Deuce: Doesn't matter where you are, or who you are, everyone has to follow the rules. Not a shocker to me that those who can't follow 'em end up in sticky situations.

Requested by @farfalla049.

#twisted wonderland #twst #deuce spade #sebek zigvolt #twst deuce #twst sebek #twst translation #twst birthday #mention: riddle #mention: ace #mention: grim #mention: yuu #mention: trein

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