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beefrobeefcal · 2 months

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the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in. What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy… not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @jennaispunk @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz @strang3lov3 @pedroshotwifey @harryleatherfit @bitchesuntitled

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #chubby!joel miller #chubby!joel #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #chubby joe #chubby pedro rights !!!#chubby pedro pascal #fat belly #pedro pascal tummy nation #beefro's bistro #beefro is sweating #you asked beefro answered #🥩#the BEEF

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anemonet · 9 months

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local iterator seven red suns growing attached at record speed to life sucking abomination, more at seven (hah)

#rain world #seven red suns #spearmaster #rainworld #also kinda thinking about doing all the iterators with slugcats if peopel intrested in that? im doing it anyways but like you knwo fair war #ning or soemthing?#ahaha what do you mean my srs design is much to intrecate for my very simple coloruing style?????#oooohhhh you wanna ask about my suns desing oohhhhh #also spearmaster mains make soem noise!!!!#:DDD #song for today is he dosent know why by fleet foxes #also i dont think spearmaster sleep guys like huh huh i dont babay why svene why do that #my art #also seems like im doing some joe hills art tomrorow!!! go watch him!!!

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frogchiro · 3 months

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Imagine Phillip, Joe, and Price all fighting for your attention as they but heads with one another as they all want your hand in marriage. One day while Phillip and Price are arguing Joe takes you away and says that he will not be as bad as those brutal oafs so you should let him caught you

As he courts you he constantly leaves you high and dry so when he suggests marriage after a few months you agree to it as you finally will get to taste what has been denied to you and more

I WANNA KISS YOUR BRAIN

And not Joe basically edging poor you😭 He's a tough man, a born soldier and leader but he gets so soft-spoken around you :((

That deep rumbly voice of his crooning to you, wrapping his strong arms around you and keeping you warm if you ever get cold. You may wander off to do your stuff bc Laswell might need something from you and Joe goes from :> to >:( real quick when he spots that asshole Philip fighting with Price, their dick fights almost pathetic judging by the fact that they are full grown men pushing 40 and yet they fight like teen boys over precious you which makes you shy and skittish WHICH in turn takes Joe's time with you away >:(

However he knows that Philip nor John are particularly religious like he is and his want to wait for anything...intimate until marriage seems to make you frustrated and slightly jittery. Joe is quite touchy with people he's close to, and because he's very interested with you, he unconciously got a but touchier with you which yes, made you swoon but at the same time he leaves you high and dry bc of his believes :((

Joe know this is a big disadvantage and curses himself every time he sees Philip bullying you and getting all nice and close to you during training or while you both work on some technical stuff, Joe sometimes gets a infuriating look on how Philip gropes and runs his big rough hands all over your soft body, your quiet whines making the sly blonde only grin as he slips his hands under your shirt >:(

Fuck.

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #you are singlehandedly feeding ny delusions😭#which i am thankful for love♡#cod x reader #cod mw x reader #philip x reader #philip graves x reader #joe bear graves x reader #joe graves x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #philip graves #joe bear graves #joe graves #captain john price #john price

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blorbocedes · 2 months

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another version of me, i was in it

by leclercvfx_ (x)

#lost my mind with how many times i watched this #asked the creator for permission to repost with credit <3 #if you have tiktok give the OG creator some love!!#nico rosberg #f1 edits #f1 fancam #brocedes #end of beginning by Joe Keery

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queenimmadolla · 7 months

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Maybe could you write a dad Eddie x reader fic where penny wants to have a baby of her own so she can be a mom like reader

You were cuddled up to Eddie’s side on the couch, your toddler playing with her toys on the floor and your newborn curled in your arms, his face nuzzled against your bare breast as he nursed.

The TV was on, but you and Eddie had long forgone your horror and dark fantasy movies for child friendly films and shows like Sesame Street, which was currently displayed on the screen. It was far from your favorite thing to watch, for either of you, your daughter was entranced with reruns of the show, and had a special love for Kermit and Elmo.

“I’m telling you, there is no way they’re just roommates.” Eddie remarked with a scoff, during the Bert and Ernie segment.

“They so are! I mean, the romantic tension is obviously present but neither has acted on it yet. Ernie’s too oblivious to do anything about it, probably thinks it’s only one-sided, and if Ernie’s not showing his interest, Bert’s not gonna make a move.” You countered, sinking further into Eddie’s side. His arm was around your shoulders, hand stroking along your forearm before latching onto his son’s tiny sock covered toes and giving them a gentle wiggle to which baby Wayne curled his feet further into his body, depriving his father of access to his toes. It didn’t distract the little glutton from the task at hand, your baby just mouthed a little at your nipple, head moving around until it was in place before latching once more.

Eddie chuckled at that, watching with affection as his baby continued to stare up at you with wide eyes while he nursed, before his gaze moved back to the characters in question.

“Sweetheart, they are clearly in a domestic partnership, they’ve just grown very comfortable around each other. We don’t need to see their affection to know they’re in a relationship.”

“They sleep in separate beds, Eds.”

“Okay, you got me there.”

Penny chose then to get up from the floor, rushing over with the baby doll you’d gotten for her when you’d told her you were pregnant. She leaned against Eddie’s leg, resting her head on his thigh and letting him stroke over her curls before she pushed herself up and held the doll out to you.

“Is that your baby doll?” You asked, assuming she was trying to show it off and she nodded, continuing to extend it and you realized she was trying to give it to you.

“Hew you go, mama.”

You made sure your actual baby was secure against you, glancing down to meet his unwavering stare as he ate, satisfied grunts sounding from him every so often, before you took the doll into your free hand, “Oh, you want me to hold…her?”

You didn’t know what gender it was supposed to be, you’d heard Penny change it constantly.

“Uh huh!” She nodded, grabbing onto Eddie’s knee and using it to sway back and forth. Sounded simple enough, you could play along, “She’s hungwy.”

“You want to hand me her bottle then?” You could see the toy baby bottle, it had come included with, on the floor where Penny had previously been playing.

“No, you has to feed the babies.” Penny released her dad’s knee to poke at her chest with both index fingers. “Fom wight hew.”

You could hear and feel Eddie choke beside you, trying to muffle his laughter as you realized your toddler wanted you to breastfeed her doll.

“Oh. Um.” You tried to think of a way to get out of it, casting Eddie a glare when you caught sight of his wide smirk from your peripheral vision. “Brother is eating right now.”

“Udda one.” She pointed at your freed up, covered boob rather than the one your son’s wispy curl covered head was blocking for her.

Damn it, Penny was beginning to become too self aware.

Reluctantly, and very awkwardly, you held the baby doll’s plastic head against your other breast as Eddie literally started shaking against you. He might as well have just laughed outright with all the wheezing he was doing. Even Penny was casting him a few side-eyes.

You turned your head towards him, eyes narrowing as Eddie continued to try to muffle his amusement behind a fist, face turning red with his effort but not even his fist was large enough to conceal the grin at your expense.

Penny, however, looked like the cat who got the cream, happy you were once again complying with her demands.

You thought you’d be able to put the doll down once she went back to the toys, no luck, she��d apparently come over with the intention of watching you ‘feed’ her baby. So for like seven entire awkward minutes, you held the doll to your boob, its plastic face pressed against it, while she stared at you and Eddie suffocated on his amusement. The reason he didn’t just openly laugh at you was because he knew Penny would get mad at him. He could tell this wasn’t a game to her and if he laughed at something she didn’t intend to be funny, he’d have an angry toddler on his hands.

Then you’d be the one laughing.

Mercifully, Penny eventually grew bored of watching you and reached up for the doll, which you were all too happy to give back. “You want to burp her?”

The answer to that was no. Penny adjusted the baby doll in her hands until its face was smashed to her chest. It was half her size, but her motive was clear as she beamed up at you.

She was imitating you.

“Look! I A MAMA, LIKE MAMA!”

#pennyverse #pennyverse asks #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader fluff #dilf!eddie munson #girl dad!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #dad!eddie munson #joseph quinn #joe quinn #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson x reader

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babiestmunson · 2 years

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yeah love, that's called acting

credits

#one is eddie being at edge for his life and the other is eddie being eddie #two different people if you ask me #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #stranger things #stranger things cast #joe quinn #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader

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im-a-freaking-joy · 10 days

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CALLING ALL EXMORMONS/PIMOS

i have a proposition- lets all write the nastiest, most unhinged, atrocious mormon themed smut that we possibly can. It was honestly weirdly healing for me to read wild ass smut on ao3 that was themed around the religion and not the musical, and i want it to become such a popular trend for exmos and pimos to start doing that they have to start vagueing about it in general conference. It doesnt have to be good. It just needs to *be.*

Once im done writing my Ammon×Lamoni smut fic I'm absolutely reblogging this post with the link added, please join me in this unhinged rebellion

#look those two always had something homoerotic going on alright #even before i knew what homoeroticism was #just like. the inherent dom sub dynamics of willingly and happily listening to everything the king says?#asking for more duties just so you can spend time around him?#fighting an entire rampaging group of men intent on harming your b̶o̶y̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶ I mean king's sheep?#cutting off said enemies arms to show him how devoted you are?#and on lamoni's side--#giving up your kingdom for your “best friend” so he can be safe??#protecting him from anyone who disagrees with you and thinks he shouldnt be here?#the tldr of this i guess is that if joe smith wrote smut instead of the book of mormon and making it into a cult i would have less trauma #exmo #exmormon #ex lds #ex mormon #pimo #calling all exmos

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goldrose-fever · 1 year

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is it fruity to have sexual tension with your evil alter ego?

#is insanity fruity?#asking for a friend #asking for science #more like #insanity #dr jekyll and mr hyde #joe goldberg #rhys montrose #goldrose #you netflix #you s4 #you s4 spoilers

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andromeddog · 2 months

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would you. consider. drawing joe toye.

yes, for you anon- boy toy joe toye

#my art #band of brothers #joe toye #an evening sketchy for you beloved anon #asks #anon

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beefrobeefcal · 2 months

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Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved Summary: You and Joel navigate settling down in Jackson as a couple with its ups and downs. (Post Outbreak)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,900

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), talk of eating, weight gain, oral (f receiving), angst, established relationship growing pains, argument

Author's Notes: Am I back? Maybe baby! I'm delighted to finally do what was asked of me in a poll and I thank you all for your love and patience.

Thanks be to @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, and @notjustjavierpena for their eyes, thots, and brains. And thank you to @noxturnalpascal for the THOT that gave life to this fic so very long ago.

“Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.

“Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.

“What helping’s this? Third? Fourth?”

Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”

You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel something was lacking, hence your teasing.

The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach.

He shook his turkey leg at you, giving you a scolding look, and warned, “You better knock that shit off, Darlin’... or so help me, I’m not gonna - .”

“Not gonna what?”, you asked, getting closer, and you voice dropped down to a cool whisper only he could hear. “Not gonna fuck me? Pretty sure haven’t been doing that lately anyway, so what’d be the difference, huh?”

He sat back with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock, and his full belly sat rounded out on his lap. You stood up, brow raised, and arms crossed.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

Joel was affectionate, but usually too tired, full or both to do anything but let you ride him. And not to say you didn't enjoy it, but it was starting to feel a bit one sided. He hadn’t done anything beyond finger you a bit to get you ready and then sweet talk you into being on top again. He’d apologize and praise you, but you wanted more. Especially now that there was more to him.

His eating habits had really started to impact his physique; his jawline was softer, his arms and thighs were thicker, but his stomach was truly the star of the show. He’d made do with the clothes he had for as long as he could, but at the rate he was eating and the limited physical activity he’d been doing, he had to trade labor and time for new shirts and pants that would fit him. And on nights when he ate like this, you swore you could hear the seams praying to their polyester gods for mercy.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me!”, he snapped, louder than he meant. “Seems to do the trick and make you whine and mewl like a beaten dog almost every night!”

You felt your face get hot as a few heads in the dining hall turned towards you. He sighed and his eyes softened as he saw your face fall a bit. But you held firm, pulling your mouth into a scowl.

“Not every night, nowhere near it. And I’m the one doing the work. I’m the one fuckin’ you!”, you hissed.

Before giving him a chance to say anything else, you quickly turned and went back into the kitchen.

*****

After storming out of the dining hall, you’d spent the rest of your shift cleaning the entire kitchen, probably to a degree it hadn’t been since its installation. You’d scrubbed and polished every surface with enough fury in your eyes that no one dared step in. It wasn’t until you heard the jukebox turn off and see the lights in the dining hall dim that you realized you’d been at this for a few hours.

As you leaned back against the counter, head down and thinking over how your and Joel’s interaction had escalated like that, you heard a small voice say your name. You looked up and saw Sally, one of the other kitchen attendants.

“Sorry - don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m tryin’ to close up and Joel won’t leave. Says he’s not leavin’ without’cha.”

You scoffed out a ‘for fuck’s sake’ then walked to the swinging doors, only to see Joel, still seated where he was before, leaning back in his chair and picking his teeth with a toothpick. His eyes met yours, and you knew just from the look he was giving, he had a lot more to say.

“Joel, go home. Need to close up and can’t if you’re here.”

He looked behind you at Sally and gave her a small wave. “I’ll help her close up, Sally. You run on home. We got this.”

“Joel!”, you hissed.

“Go on now, Sally.”

His tone left little room for Sally to argue, and she muttered a ‘good night’ as she passed by you then Joel as head made her way out the door. You sighed, clenching your jaw, feeling the frustration and anger that you’d just weeded down in your cleaning frenzy begin to rise again. Joel watched Sally leave, then turned back to you, smug look on his face, made all the smugger as he noted your irritation.

“Darlin’, cut that shit out and come’ere.”, he crooned with a small grin, hilding his hand out to you.

You glared at him, not moving from your position.

He kept his hand out and raised his eyebrows and let out a huff. “Don’t make this old man beg, baby…”

“I think this old man has a lot more ground to cover than just beggin’.”, you responded cooly, crossing your arms across your chest. Before Joel could answer, you turned and went back to the kitchen to finish your duties.

You figured there was a 50 / 50 chance of Joel following you in, so as the door swung open and his heavy footsteps lumbered towards you, you knew he was at least picking up slightly on the passive aggressive breadcrumbs you’d dropped. You kept your back to him, drying cutlery and putting them into their respective bins.

“Darlin’…”

Joel’s voice was set low in a growl, leaving you unable to tell whether he was angry or aroused. You jumped as his hand grazed your lower back and settled on your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

“You wan’me to beg?”, he huskily growled into the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“I gotta finish closin’ up, Joel.”, you stated, keeping your voice as even and unaffected as you could muster.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh-turned-grunt and let you go, stepping back. He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him, the wood creaking in objection to his weight.

“Fuck, you’re being-“, he started, before letting out a huff. “What has gotten into you?”

Turning around, you were met with something you didn’t anticipate – a dark, sullen, glaring Joel, eyes burning into you.

“Joel-“, you groaned, before he cut you off.

“Don’t fuckin’ Joel me.”, he snapped. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve. You know what you said in front of the people eatin’ their food out there? You said I wasn’t fuckin’ you right. And then, I sit here like a goddamned fool, waitin’ for you to finish so we can talk, and you turn your back on me.”

“Joel, I need t-“

“Shut up! I ain’t done talkin’!”

You close your mouth and swallow hard. While you’d seen him get mad before, Joel had never directed it towards you before, and lord almighty, it sucked.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ mind reader? Think I’m gonna know you’re not happy?”, he asked, sounding loud and desperate, as he stood up and stalked towards you.

As he looked down at you, realization of how much bigger he was, in height and weight, came over you.

“I have said someth-“, you tried to argue, but his large hand grabbing yours and tugging you against him stopped you.

“Don’t interrupt me!”, he barked. “You aint said shit! And now you – fuck! No. You know what? Ain’t worth it!”

His eyes glowered down into yours and you in turn felt your eyes begin to sting with tears at the loss of contact. This was the most emotionally charged you’d seen Joel, and you wanted that same energy and passion when he fucked you, not use it to berate you for needing him to give you the same time and attention he showered on the food you cooked for the whole community. You could feel your face getting hot from the anger that was boiling in you over how overlooked you felt, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You were in a heated, frenzied spiral and reason and rationale had abandoned you.

Before you could snap back and tell him how worth it you actually were, Joel’s eyes softened; he let out a deep breath and let go of your arm and stepped back.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”, Joel muttered before he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You stood silently and watched him leave, feeling your heart break and immolate in your rib cage and hot tears fall down your face. It hit you hard just how hurt you both were.

*****

The house was dark when you walked in the front door. Joel had left no lights on, and you knew Ellie would be at Dina’s house for the night. The only hint you had to deduce that Joel was in fact home was the dim light you saw through his bedroom window as you approached the house. You hung your coat and tucked your boots on the shelf before quietly ascending the stairs to go to your room.

As you tiptoed in the hallways, you passed Joel’s bedroom door and heard him moving around his room. You could see his shadow from the light slipping under his doorway and felt your stomach curdle and sour, your mind jumping to rash conclusions about what he could be doing in there.

Was he packing to move out and get away from you?

Was he trying to clean up to remove your smell?

Was he collecting your things that you’d left in his room so he could hand them to you and tell you to get out?

As the thoughts rippled through your brain, you knew Joel was more methodical than that. He wouldn’t just leave or make you leave like that… would he?

You stepped forward, forgetting about that floorboard. The creak that sang out made both you and Joel’s shadow stop. You kept still for a moment, but the shadow didn’t move either. You were suddenly thrust back into your childhood; the times you were trying to sneak down into the kitchen to grab a snack or watch a blue movie on cable television without your parents catching you.

That fucking floorboard.

The shadow moved slightly, signaling Joel was getting closer to the door, and you moved quickly to your room, no longer caring how much noise you made. As you reached to grab your door handle, you heard Joel’s door pull open.

“Darlin’?”

Your hand clasped the knob, and you closed your eyes, hearing his voice.

“Yeah, Joel?”

You were surprised how soft and calm your voice sounded; it was a stark contrast to the overwhelming, post-anger, anxiety-ridden mess that was your mind.

“Turn around and look at me, Baby.”

“M’tired, Joel… Just gonna go to bed and – “

“I said turn around.”

It wasn’t a request. His tone was gentle, but you could feel it in your bones that this was a command - a soft one, but a command none the less. Your skin prickled in a wave of goosebumps, up your body, culminating at the base of your neck.

Joel must have been able to see the effect he had on you, because the voice he used to speak almost melted the flesh from your bones.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna turn around and look at me. Now.”

You turned around and looked at him. His broad and hefty silhouette stood ominously in his doorway, backlit by the soft glow from his bedroom.

“You comin’ to bed?”, Joel said quietly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your skin once again pebble.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question, then shook your head subtly.

“No, Joel. I figured we’d take the night an-“

“And what?”, he snapped, stepping out into the hallway and towards you.

When you didn’t answer, he took another few steps and growled in a lower tone, “And what?!”

Your eyes went wide as he got closer, and your fight or flight kicked in. Taking a step back, you hit your bedroom door, and stumbled through your words. “I… I-I thought… I figured that you’d wanna-“

“That I’d wanna what?”, he snarled, stepping close and his full belly pressed you further into your door.

“Th-that you’d… you’d wanna be… alone to-tonight…”

Joel’s hand came up and he grabbed your chin, forcing your face square to his. “And why d’you think that?”

“Because… because we fought-“

“And you think that gives you the right to not sleep in my bed?”

You were stunned; you had no answer for him, and you also hadn’t ever been this turned on by him with out him already being knuckle deep in your pussy. You swallowed hard and stared back at him. This was a feeling you couldn’t place; it felt like you were slipping under a spell that Joel was casting.

The only response you could finally give was a headshake, and Joel returned it with a curt nod and slight grin.

“Good girl.”, he purred and released your chin.

You followed Joel back into his room, and stood awkwardly as he closed the door. You’d been in his room countless times, and you’d never felt this out of place. You jumped when he put his hands on your hips from behind and pulled you back, the curve of your spine being the perfect angle for his heavy belly to fit against.

“You feel like I’m not takin’ care of you, Darlin’?”, he huskily mewled into your ear before nipping it.

“Joel, I’m sor-“

“Stop.”, he said, abruptly stopping you from finishing your apology.

“We’re past that, Darlin’. Both said things we needed to say, even if we said’em not so nicely.”

You could hear the small smile in his voice and couldn’t help the one that tugged at your mouth slightly. A whisper soft sound came out of you with a sigh.

But then his tone dipped down, and as he rasped into your ear; one of his hands on your hip slipped to your front as he cupped your denim clad mound.

“You got my attention, baby. You feelin’ needy?”

Your mouth opened, and our flew a feather-light choked whimper. He gripped you roughly and pulled you snug against him, enough so that you could feel his thick and hard cock press against your ass.

“That why you had an attitude with me today? Needed me to fuck you? Fix that ache in your needy pussy?”

You breathed his name out as your brows furrowed and your eyes clenches closed. “Joel…” Your hand snapped on top of his over your crotch, forcing him to apply more pressure and squeeze.

“Need me to remind you that you’re mine?”, he growled before biting the crux of your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, breathing rapidly, then you let out a squeal as he shook your hand off his, then turned and shoved you against the wall. He got close and his hands made quick work in opening and shoving down your jeans. His eyes snapped up to yours and his hand dove between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…”, he sighed, eyes rolling back as he felt how wet you were. “My poor girl’s floodin’ the basement and it’s’all my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist, stabilizing yourself, and let whining pants out with each breath as his middle finger began to dip in an out of your hole. The tip of his thumb gently circled you’re aching clit.

“Yeah… I know I been neglectin’ you, baby girl… but not ‘cause of nothin’ you did… no, baby… you’re just keepin’ me too well fed and I’m fit to be tied by the time we get home… if I could fuck you the way you deserve every night…”

“Oh fuck… Joel, I need y –“

“But you always lettin’ me get away with being lazy an’watchin’ your perfect tits bounce while you fuck this fat old man…”, he rasped, his lids heavy as he watched your face contort in need. “Jesus, Darlin’, you got e’ry right to be cross with me…”

As much as you loved his voice, you needed more. Fisting his shirt, you pulled his face to yours and sucked him into a desperate and messy kiss, teeth and tongues colliding, and it was sharp and splitting. You didn’t need gentle – you needed him.

He finally pulled back, breathing heavily, same as you, and a grin tugged at his parted lips.

“Oh, Darlin’…”, he cooed, finger and thumb still working your cunt in tandem. He leaned in, ghosting his mouth over yours and asked in a voice so soft, you could have cried. “I need you to know how bad you got me, baby… tell me what I can do to prove it.”

Emboldened by his lust-blown eyes with heavy lids looking at you desperately, you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push down. A smile pulled at one side of his mouth, instantly understanding your silent request. He stepped back and groaned as he lowered himself down, joints cracking as he got on one knee, and he looked up as he pulled your jeans down further then helped you step out, one leg at a time. As he de-robed your second leg, he lifted it over his shoulder, and he scooted forward, and your eyes stayed trained on him, catching every detail, every twitch of his face as he breathed huskily and inhaled your scent. You watched his eyes flutter and roll back, like you were a buffet of fine cuisine, and he was a starved man. He pressed his nose in your crux and nudged in further, panting and swearing under his breath as he let your aroma and essence envelope him.

He took his time, as if he was making sure to catch every flavour, every note of your taste and smell, almost punishing himself for allowing you to feel unappreciated. His hands reached behind and pulled your hips forward into his face and you whimpered out a gasp as your shoulders planted against the wall behind you being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Joel…”, you breathed out, swallowing, trying to alleviate the dry mouth your open mouth breathing had caused. “Joel, please…”

He groaned into your warmth and opened his mouth, finally letting himself have a taste. His tongue licked out between your folds, starting slowly, but began to increase in intensity as he realized this was his favourite thing to savour. He grunted and panted as he lapped at you, his grip that held you so firmly to his face hurting you in the absolute best way possible.

Your fingers pulled his hair, aiding in keeping your core tightly affixed to his gaping maw, and you rocked your hip, mewling and crying out, begging him for more. Joel was in no position to deny you want you needed, not only because of the iron-clad connection currently created by both of your individual efforts, but he was eating his favourite thing. He’d denied you both for so long, he would happily suffocate between your thighs before ever taking a proper breath again if it paid the price of his sin. The noises he made as he ate and licked and devoured you sounded obscene - he sounded like a starved and feral dog, gnawing at a cut of meat tossed to him out of pity. You’re sure that if you saw his eyes, they’d be a black abyss like a shark’s as it bit down on its next meal.

The sounds he was ripping and peeling out of you were music to his ears, championing him further, pushing him harder to make you give him more of those delicious noises. He was rocking his hips in time with his mouth and tongue, letting his throbbing cock rut against the inside of his jean’s rough zipper. Between that, your taste and your fingers pulling his scalp taught with hair, he was in pure ecstasy.

He brought his hand attached to the shoulder your leg was propped up on and pushed two thick fingers into your core and began to pump them in and out - again, in time with his own hips’ rhythm. The white-hot burning coil that Joel had been slowly winding with his mouth finally sprung loose and snapped. You arched your back, silently screaming out as your body went rigid, and vaguely heard Joel growl. He continued to suck hard on your twitching and swollen clit and punched his fingers up into you as your rode out your orgasm. You heard liquid hitting the wood floor before you heard Joel let out a series of high-pitched groans.

His fingers slowed and his mouth was panting hot, quick breaths on your aching core. You looked down at him, chest heaving, to see him shakily pull his fingers from you and shove them in his mouth. Joel was a beautiful and carnal sight: breathing hard in grunts as he sucked his fingers clean. The act looked primitive, like he’d accessed his baser instincts, and he was satisfying a basic human need, a millennia in the making.

“Joel.”, you croaked, and he looked up at you with blurred eyes that slowly began to focus. He slowly pulled himself up, heaving his heavy belly. You helped him come back to his fully height and he leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could smell yourself on him as he kissed you softly before resuming your connection through foreheads.

“That was…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah… taste so good.”

“I wanna return the fav-“

Your hand cupped what you thought would be his hard cock, but stopped when you felt him softening and his jeans were warm and damp. You pulled your head back and looked at him, prompting a huffed laugh from Joel, pink flushing up his neck to his cheeks.

“You’re my favourite meal, Darlin’. You got me hooked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He pulled you away from the wall and onto the bed. He laid back and groaned as his spine relaxed. His full belly domed above him, moving gently up and down with each breath and you sat up, giving it a rub.

“You ate well tonight…”, you cooed, unbuckling his belt and opening his jean to access the mess he made.

He chuckled, supporting his head on an arm as he watched you with a grin. “Couldn’t help it… you serve food too good to not destroy myself on it, Darlin’.”

You shot him a look as you peeled back his damp and sticky underwear.

“Like I said, Darlin’… you serve up a good meal.”

beef's glossary: The term "blue movie" is an old-fashioned slang term used to describe pornographic films, usually of the low budget variety.

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle@lilmizmoz @strang3lov3

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scrambledlikeeggs · 4 months

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Could we get a vex JoeHills for the ask game?

Ofc! My vex traits are ones I very rarely show off so very happy to draw this! + his dog catching beach because i've been watching season 7

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #joe hills #thanks for the ask <3 #also thank you for mossy xisuma i love it so much

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theminecraftbee · 4 months

Note

minotaur Joe for the fanon swap prompts? i feel like he'd do something very philosophical and Joe(tm) about mythology. or butterfly/moth Joe?

After waking up with a headache and looking in the mirror to shave, Joe pauses. He stares at his reflection in the mirror. For the past several days, he hadn't thought anything of it; it's usual enough, for a hermit to start to get weird as the day of the start of a new project approaches. Why, if all that moon stuff hadn't happened, Joe can only imagine what growing snakes would have been like for Cleo.

He wonders if it was anything like this: Joe wakes up, stretches, hears weird clacking as he goes to the bathroom, goes to grab his razor, and rather abruptly realizes that he doesn't have a beard, or, rather, that since he now has a bull's head, he has far more beard than can possibly be reasonably shaved, and he should throw the whole concept of 'shaving a beard' out the window.

"Huh," he says. "I guess growing horns does give people a headache? Who knew?"

If his voice is wavering as he says it, well, no one's around to hear. They're between seasons, and while Joe is sharing a server with several hermits at the moment, his mountain lodge doesn't have much by way of neighbors. He's alone to have this horrible revelation.

"How will the bunny ears look with the bull head?" he asks himself. He tries to picture the result and, determining it a little less existentially terrifying than a sudden, unplanned change of species, decides to put them on. He nods. "I am a Playboy Minotaur," he mutters to himself. "I am confident! Composed! Perhaps even a sexyman? Eh, I'll workshop it. I wonder if there's better-matching armor for this..."

He hitches in his morning routine when he realizes the weird clacking he'd been hearing had been hooves. Realistically, he should now be wondering how well any of his boots will fit, now that he doesn't really have toes, and if he needs to be shoed, like a horse might, to protect the hooves from damage instead. Realistically, he should be contacting Iskall about whatever modifications need to be made for the remainder of his time hunting vaults before season 10 starts. Realistically, he should be hunting down one of the less-human hermits and asking if eating burgers to gain levels is now cannibalism. All of these things are realistic concerns that he can bother people about right now, if he wants to!

Unrealistically, he's thinking more about a conversation he'd had with Cub the other day as he stares at his hooves, hands shaking far, far more than he'd care to admit.

They'd been arguing about who Daedalus was.

It had started when they started planning together. Joe had mentioned wanting to build a labyrinth a little bit ago, and Cub, who apparently loved building mazes, was going to help out with the planning. With any luck, all of the hermits were going to help build it! He'd rambled about giving himself a bit of themeing about Theseus as a result, about conquering this whole labyrinth build, this project he'd designed not to really have an end. About having to guide himself in and out through twisting tunnels.

Cub had then pointed out that if Joe had been building it, that technically makes him Daedalus; the one guy who knew the layout, the genius inventor building the trap for the server, designing its hallways. Joe had argued that was who Cub would be; Cub is the expert madman inventor being brought on, and Joe just like, wanted to build a maze. Cub had said that that sort of made Joe Minos then, but given season seven, the guy who once got cursed to turn everything he touched to gold didn't feel very fitting. Joe had agreed it hadn't fit. Maybe they'd split Daedalus then, if Theseus was a little too thematically muddled?

They'd laughed about it. Joe hadn't really intended for the maze to be based on myth, anyway. That would be stealing Cleo's bit, and he knows better than to do that.

And yet.

"We didn't consider I might be the Minotaur," Joe says to no one in particular. "You know. Of the figures associated with the Labyrinth, we didn't consider the big bull trapped in the middle. I should tell Cub we forgot about that one. It'll be a real laugh."

He can't quite say out loud the thing he's really thinking, which is this:

Well, if the universe has decided the guy with the maze won't be the hero, or the inventor, or the king, but the bull it was designed to trap--well. What's that say about him, exactly, in symbology?

"Maybe it's just in reference to the vaults," he says, trying to hype himself up. It falls a little flat. He takes a deep breath. He realizes he's still holding his razor, even after crossing his house to get the bunny ears. He goes to put the razor down and catches sight of his head in the mirror once again.

Monstrous. He's friends with a lot of monsters, of course; he's known Cleo for more than a decade. And his mannerisms, they're still him. But right then, in that moment...

He pokes the bunny ears.

"I am the Playboy Minotaur," he says, more insistently. "Didn't Iskall have that dress he had covered in flowers? That's what's really important here. That, and the obligatory cannibalism if I want to reach the level 100 goal in time, of course. The Minotaur clearly ate meat, despite being a cow, and ate people, despite being half person, but we really know nothing about what cow would do to my diet. Hold on, I have a very confusing message I can write Iskall about this one."

He deliberately turns away from the mirror and goes to write Iskall something that will explain nothing at all, and then tell Cub about their oversight. It's not like he can change it now.

#answered #ask game #hermitcraft #joe hills #a bee fic #prompt ficlet #minotaur joe is VERY GOOD given. his season 10 plans. you know #man builds a labyrinth. somewhat concerned and upset to discover that he's the guy who's going to be trapped in it.

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gentil-minou · 5 months

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"This is more about your ego and pride than Palestine" No its about putting pressure on a party that is supporting genocide

It's about logic

Biden and the DNC would rather cause dissent and dissatisfaction within their own party rather than call for a ceasefire

They know they can get away with it because they're a better option than Trump, because they know they could murder babies in front of you and you'll still vote for them.

So why would they call for a ceasefire when they don't need to?

That's why putting the pressure on them, saying they won't get our vote or saying we are looking for other options is so important.

Because that's the only way they will change.

By saying "Vote Blue No Matter Who", you give him and the DNC permission to permit genocide despite the vast majority of public opinion. You say they can do whatever they want because you will vote for them anyways.

You tell them they don't need to do anything else. That in fact they can do whatever they want. You've shown them you are so terrified of your own government that you would rather lie down and let it walk all over you than put any pressure on them at all

They have a year to make a change. Biden could end this all tomorrow, but why would he when he has you doing his dirty work?

#there is nothing to be proud of here there is no ego here #if anything i am deeply ashamed that my vote and my country has allowed this to get so bad and that my tax dollars have led to this #i didnt read the whole ask because it was abother essay but if you are implying im voting third party because of an ego you are part of #the problem here #but im sad because so many people i thought were friends or people i admired have shown they dont actually care abouot the world #if it were my country's people that biden was funding a genocide against they would still expect me to support it #i want desperately to never think about politics or any of this but when millions of lives are directly at the mercy of my government #the least i can do is not give them a pat on the back and look away for my own comfort #at least in finding out who to block and unfollow i guess #us politics #joe biden

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queenimmadolla · 9 months

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srry if this has been asked before !

how did eddie & reader tell penny they were expecting? and how did she react ?

glad you asked because now i get to post this early!

° 　. ● . ★ ° . *　　　° * 　.　 :　　:●. 　 *° :●. 　 * .　 * 　.　　 ˚ *.　　 *　　 * ⋆ 　 . · 　　 ⋆ ˚ ˚ 　　 ✦⋆ · 　 *⋆ ✧　　 · 　 ✧　✵　　. 　★ ° . *

(dad!eddie munson x mom!pregnant!reader)

more of your family here.

Summary: . . . You and Eddie tell your toddler she's going to be a big sister.

warnings: penny being penny, it's fluff.

It wasn’t ideal. Not necessarily something you were vehemently against, since you were obviously going through with it, but not worth sobbing over.

Eddie had knocked you up. Again.

Penny wasn’t even three years old yet, and you’d ended up with yet another bun in the oven—as you’d discovered two weeks ago.

Luckily, you weren’t as far along as you had been when you found out you were pregnant with Penny, so you’d have more time to plan and come to terms with it. And your hormones weren’t out of whack yet.

Last week had technically been the end of your first trimester, so you were pretty much in the clear to start telling people—though most of your friend group already knew because despite feeling a little overwhelmed, Eddie took great pride in his ability to strike twice.

You were sure he had some sort of breeding kink, and it definitely didn’t help that you let him raw dog you every single time. As soon as you popped this one out, that would be coming to an end. Until then, he was keen on having his fill—or rather keen on filling you.

The only person in your life who didn’t know you were expecting was your toddler. If the conversation didn’t involve a word she wasn’t supposed to say, Penny wasn’t paying attention.

You and Eddie had tried to come up with ways to tell her, but you’d both been fumbling with ideas. Mostly because you had no idea how she’d react.

Penny only interacted with a few kids her age at the park, mostly older children and sometimes she’d see a baby, point at it and say ‘baby’, but that was about it. She’d do the same when she saw the gerber baby commercials and she thought the babies on her cartoons were cute, but that was the most she’d interacted with one.

Penny was also aware of the existence of siblings, saw them depicted in her cartoons but never approached you and Eddie in regards to why she didn’t have one or wanting one (which you had been grateful about). But she was only two. Which meant she probably didn’t care.

Or that she didn’t want one.

That’s what you and Eddie were afraid of.

You’d been thinking about her lack of interactions with babies all day at work when the idea struck you.

It was such an obvious one, too, you knew Eddie would be annoyed that he didn’t think of it sooner.

After work, you swung by the store, secured the bag (and a gift bag) and dipped.

Once you were parked in front of the trailer, you shoved the darling little thing into the gift bag and found yourself surprisingly giddy about the entire idea. You had a really good feeling about this.

Eddie had already picked Penny up from Maude and Wayne, and you found him lifting her up and rocketing her around the room, making swoosh sound effects while she laughed her cute little diaper-covered butt off.

It was music to your ears.

“Look! Mommy’s home!” Eddie lowered her, turning her so she was facing your direction.

Her big brown eyes lit up, smile widening as she reached for you.

“Mama!”

“Hi, baby!” You greeted her as Eddie repositioned her over his hip. She leaned forward, lips comically pursed and ready for a kiss. Penny saw you and Eddie kiss each other goodbye and witnessed your welcome kisses, so she also demanded kisses, which you were happy to give her. At one point, she didn’t want you giving Eddie any kisses because she thought they were all hers so you were happy she was willing to share.

You gave her an innocent little smooch, and pressed big smacking ones to both her cheeks.

“And hello to you, too.” You reached a hand up to hook on the back of Eddie’s neck as you leaned up and he leaned down, lips meeting in a kiss you knew he wanted to deepen—and would have, had it not been for the toddler in his arms.

“Hi, honey.” He gave you a goofy grin, before jutting his chin down towards the shiny pink bag in your hand, “What’cha got there?”

“Put her on the couch, I’ll show you.”

“Is it for me or is it for her?” Eddie tapped at his chest before gently pinching and wiggling Penny’s nose as you both moved over to the couch. “‘Cause, I’m hoping it’s for me. No offense, kid.”

Her pudgy little hands flew up to swipe at her dad’s before he set her down on the cushions. Penny was still all smiles, but since Eddie had brought the gift to her attention, she couldn’t focus on anything else, stare honed in on the pink bag.

You squatted to be eye level with her and reached your hand out to tickle Penny’s tummy. She giggled, tongue between her teeth as she moved her hands to try to shield her tummy from you.

“I’ve brought you a gift.” You held the bag up by the strings, the bottom of it supported by your other palm.

“Wazzit?”

“It’s a crystal, nothing more—I’m kidding. Open it, baby.”

You placed it in her grabby hands, the bag was half her size so she had to dump it on its side and practically climb inside to pull out the clear, plastic box. Her little gasp was a dramatic one.

“‘S uh baby, mommy! Uh baby!”

Penny marveled at the baby doll in her hands, mouth and eyes wide open.

“Show daddy!”

Penny turned the clear box around—dropping it in her lap once—to showcase the plastic baby inside.

Eddie’s gasp was purposely more dramatic than Penny’s had been, “Is that a baby?!”

“Yah!”

Eddie chuckled, holding a hand out, “You want me to open it for you?”

“Yes.”

Eddie struggled with the packaging for a good five minutes, muttering unintelligible words under his breath before he finally got the doll out and released it from its bindings.

Penny clutched it to her chest in a deathly tight hug and your heart warmed to see her so happy. Penny had yet to be introduced to dolls, all she ever played with was blocks and stuffed animals—you and Eddie avoided taking her to the toy aisle, you because you were afraid she’d want something she was too small for and Eddie because he feared she’d want something with too many choking hazard pieces.

“I haz uh baby!” She proclaimed, eyes squeezing shut with the force of her smile.

“You know, Penny…I have a baby, too.” You confessed, reaching a hand out to stroke over her curls.

“I yuh baby!” She giggled

You and Eddie both chuckled, and he squatted down to join you. He’d finally caught on to what you were up to, and you were right, he was a little miffed he hadn’t thought of this earlier, considering Penny often had him feed her stuffed animals a bottle.

“You are our baby,” Eddie agreed, “but mama has another baby.”

“Daddy, Penny yuh baby! Penny mommy’s baby.” She tried again, probably wondering why her mommy and daddy didn’t understand that she was the baby.

“Penny is—you are a baby,” you always had to catch yourself. Penny had a habit of usually referring to herself in third person because she heard you and Eddie talk about her and thought she had to refer to herself in the same way, “I’m just gonna have another baby and you.”

Penny’s grip on the baby doll loosened, head tilting with confusion written all over her cute little face. “Huh?”

“You remember the babies in the strollers at the park?” You asked, palm scooping up one of her little hands. She curled it around your thumb.

“Yes.”

“Mommy and daddy are having one of those.” Eddie finished for you, flashing you a smile with eyes that glittered and oozed his happiness. There was something magical about Eddie. He had the power to make any weariness, any of your lingering nerves just disappear. Melt away. Just with a look.

“You’re gonna be a big sister,” You added, returning your focus to your little girl.

Penny’s gaze darted to the side and you and Eddie held your breath.

Her gaze darted to the other side as she continued to think and Eddie reached for your hand, squeezing. His palm was sweaty.

Finally, she spoke.

“Uhhhhhhhh, wike pieble?” Her head cocked to the side again, unwinding one arm from around her baby doll to scratch at her head and muss up her curls.

She meant Fievel. A little mouse from one of her favorite movies.

“Well, he was the little brother, so you’re more like—what’s her name?”

You turned your head to ask Eddie who readily supplied you with the answer since it was the tape that constantly occupied the VCR. He could quote that movie by now.

“Tanya.”

“Tanya. You’re like Tanya.”

“Aww!!!” Penny went bashful, shoulders lifting up nearly to her ears. “Okie dokie!”

You sighed in relief but Eddie was still practically frozen.

“…That’s it?”

“Huh?”

“You’re just—you’re okay with it? Just like that? No screaming, no crying, no throwing your toys at daddy? You’re just—you’re okay?”

“Yes.”

Eddie blinked, lips pursed before he shrugged and stood up and you rose with him. “Well, okay then! We’re having another baby.”

Penny squealed, shoving her baby doll aside—oh, how fleeting was her favor—to clap her hands, practically bouncing on the cushion.

“Weh my baby?”

“Right there.” Eddie pointed at the baby doll before he pulled you into his arms, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. You were having his baby, again, and his baby girl was fine with it. He’d been expecting one of her tantrums that ended with her spread out on the floor, bashing her fists and kicking her feet against it while she screamed till she was blue in the face but the reality was so much better.

“No, daddy. Not dat.” And to emphasize she wasn’t talking about the doll, Penny lifted her leg, making sure the baby doll was under her foot before she kicked it off the couch. “I wan’ my baby.”

“Jesus, Penny. What have I said about throwing your toys?” He frowned, chin resting on the top of your head while you stayed quiet and nestled against his chest. You weren’t docile or anything, you just wanted him to be the bad guy this time.

Penny ignored him, once more voicing her question with a great amount of exasperation and her hands flailing, “Weh my baby!?”

“Still in my tummy, Penny.” You informed her, hand moving to rest over your lower abdomen. There still wasn’t much change there, but you knew life was growing just beneath your palm.

Eddie wished so damn badly that he had the camera to capture the look on Penny’s face at your statement, her mouth dropped open, eyes wider than he’d ever seen them with a mixture of outrage, horror and disbelief.

“YOU ATED UH BABY?!”

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