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inklore · 1 year

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code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good.

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses.

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another.

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach.

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days.

A girl can dream.

And she has. Embarrassingly.

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God.

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity.

Gratefulness.

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you?

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings.

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel.

He was always there.

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time.

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before.

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks.

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over.

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped."

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone."

"Hey! I could punch someone."

"Could and would are two different things."

"You sayin I couldn’t?"

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t."

"Not tough enough?"

"Your heart's too big."

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured."

"I’m shaking in my boots."

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn. On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?"

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch."

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?"

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel."

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?"

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out.

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red.

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully.

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts.

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll.

"Don’t alert the press."

"Oh, they’ve already been informed."

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky.

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting.

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink.

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight."

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him.

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin.

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money."

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be.

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say.

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had.

Joel Miller was a good man.

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand.

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know.

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma.

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind.

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good."

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle.

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke.

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks.

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now.

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?"

"A what—pity kiss?"

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?"

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?"

"Exactly."

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath.

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate.

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement.

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks.

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his.

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders.

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one.

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him.

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you.

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers.

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now.

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can.

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth.

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs.

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence.

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked.

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?"

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously." There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken.

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up.

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis.

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes.

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging.

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth.

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center.

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection.

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you."

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are."

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises.

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag.

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back.

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight.

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel.

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock.

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after.

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though."

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully.

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fluff #the last of us smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fic #pedro pascal fics #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction

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gingerbloof · 5 months

Text

Good Boy (sub!astarion x fem soft dom!reader)

contents: MAJOR 18+ MDNI, plotless smut, mentions of safe word however not used, slight mentions of past trauma, sensative elf ears, use of toys and lube, ass play/pegging (male receiving), dry humping, nipple play, oral (male receiving), male masturbation, orgasm denial, praise, precum, sweet fluff at the end

word count: 3,070

The thought had been drifting in his mind for a while, ever since the night he shared with you in the graveyard. Claiming back your body and growing comfortable with intimacy again was one thing, but this? This was going to take a lot of trust… And a lot of patience.

The thought and conversation of you taking control in the bedroom had come up quite a few times, not only because it intrigued you, but Astarion wanted nothing more than to experience something new with you. The only issue was his past. He was afraid taking on a more submissive role would remind him of his years with Cazador…

But, he knew he could trust you. He knew that you wouldn’t do anything to push him past his limits, unless of course he asked for it. You have even discussed a system for it; a special word he would use if he needed a break or if he changed his mind. A smile flit across his face. He felt so safe and secure with you… And he knew that he wanted to do this, as long as you were comfortable as well.

He walked into your shared bedroom to find you in a black silky night slip, long enough to reach to your mid thigh. There was a slit in one of the sides, revealing more of your beautiful, soft skin. You were curled up on the bed reading a book. The faint glow of the candles in the room illuminated you beautifully…

Gods, you were perfect.

He felt his cock harden at the sight of you. He took a small breath, nervousness starting to fill in his chest. He walked toward the bed and tried to keep his usual composure. “Hello, my sweet,” He said in his usual honeyed voice, and walked toward the bed.

You looked up and grinned at him. You always looked so happy to see him, it made his undead heart swell with delight. “Hi, my star!” As you looked at him you could notice he was nervous, despite the front he was putting on. You marked your page in your book and set it on the nightstand, sitting up. “Is something the matter?” You asked.

If he had a pulse, he knew it would be quickening right now. Not only because he was nervous to ask you, but because of how much he loved you. You always knew exactly what was wrong, even when he tried hiding it. He smiled and sat down next to you and placed his icy cold hand on your thigh. “I’ve been doing some thinking…” He started, looking into your eyes. “And I think… I would like to try that… Thing we’ve been talking about.”

You took his hand in yours and looked back into his eyes. “Really? Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to feel forced or pressured, my love,” You said, squeezing his hand gently.

He smiled as he felt a couple of small tears swell in his eyes. He couldn’t help it… This is exactly why he trusted doing this with you, because of how safe you made him feel. He took your hand in his as well and nodded. “I want you to have all of me, darling. Even my vulnerable sides. I trust you with everything in me.” You grinned as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He returned the kiss happily, cupping your face in his hands, the warmth of your skin filling his entire being. He craved you, more than you could ever know.

The kiss soon turned from soft and gentle to deep and greedy. Your tongue swept across his lower lip and he allowed you access. Your tongue danced around his and you started to crawl on top of him, straddling him. He made a small moan as he felt you push against his almost painfully hard cock. He could feel beads of precum soiling his trousers as you kissed along his jaw, and eventually his neck. He put a hand on the back of your head, relaxing into you. A whimper left his lips as you gently nipped at his pale skin, leaving small love marks on his pale flesh.

You slowly lifted up his shirt looking up at him, silently asking for permission. He nodded and you lifted it over his head. He felt your eyes scan over his body, love and lust filling both of your senses. Your thumb slowly reached out to draw slow gentle circles around one of his nipples. He gasped softly and bit his lower lip, trying to hold back his moans. You noticed this and smiled sweetly at him as you leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “It’s okay, my love. Make all the sounds you want, there’s no need to hide,” Your voice was a soft purr in his ear and he grunted, not budging. You smirked and laid soft kisses along his ear, earning you another gasp and a whimper.

“Sensitive here, are we?” You asked playfully, taking the curve of his ear between your lips and sucking on it gently. You continued to tease his nipple and pressed your thigh in between his legs. He shuddered under you, gripping onto your shirt. The pleasure was absolutely insane, and you had barely even started. His cock throbbed against your thigh as he started to unconsciously buck his hips against it. You chuckled softly as you kissed your way down his body. You took one of his hardened nipples into your mouth and sucked gently, swirling your tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Astarion’s breath hitched in his throat, his back arching slightly. “D-Darling, that feels… Too good,” He moaned, earning a moan of approval from you. You lifted your head up to look him hungrily in the eyes, a smirk on your face. “We’ve only just begun, my love.” You purred.

You kissed further down his body and tugged down his trousers, his cock springing free from their grip. It was standing perfectly upright and throbbing, precum trickling down the shaft. You bit your lip at the sight, feeling your own arousal growing. But that can wait, right now his pleasure was your priority.

You gently took a hold of him in your hand and pulled back the skin, revealing his pulsating tip. You locked eyes with him as you agonizingly slowly swirled your tongue around his tip, lapping up his precum. He bit his knuckle and his chest heaved, staring down at you working your magic. “P-Please, darling…” He whimpered. “Y-Your mouth… Please.”

You felt the pool of heat in your stomach grow, molten lava burning at your core. The sight of him quivering at your touch and the sound of him begging was so arousing. Almost as arousing as when he takes control of you. You stop the movement of your tongue and he whines, bucking his hips slightly trying to fuck himself in your hand. You let go and smirked. “Be patient, my love,” You purred. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

His whines were music to your ears. The vision before you could put the finest artists of Faerún to shame. His pleading eyes, his failure at trying to hide his sounds of desperation, his rock hard throbbing cock… He was beautiful.

“I-I… I want my cock in your mouth,” He pleaded breathlessly. “Please, darling… I can’t take it anymore.” You smile as you lean back down and take his cock in your palm once more. The words you spoke next are what you’ve been wanting to say for a while, and you knew it would send Astarion over the edge.

“Good boy.”

A shocked, but aroused sound came from his mouth before you parted your lips and took his length into your mouth. He moaned loudly at the sudden sensation and threw his head back, gripping the bed sheets underneath him. You sucked gently and swirled your tongue around his length, bobbing your head, taking more and more of him into your throat.

Thankfully because of your nights together in camp, your gag reflex has decreased, so you could confidently take him all the way into your throat no problem. Your head slowly slid down the rest of the way and stayed still, letting him enjoy the warmth and wetness of your throat. You also stick out your tongue to ensure every inch of him is deep inside your throat.

He is a whimpering, pleasing mess. Watching you take his entire cock so effortlessly makes him throb inside your throat. He wants nothing more than to take back his power and grab your hair and fuck himself in your throat, but he resists, he wants you to make him feel good.

You suck around him as you bob your head up and down, a bit faster this time, making sure to take all of him in your throat at every pass. He moans loudly and grips the sheets tighter, tearing it a bit. His hips start to thrust, matching your pace. You can taste more precum flowing from his tip and his cock swells even more in your mouth. You can tell he’s about to come undone.

“F-Fuck!” He cried out. “Tav you’re gonna make me-“ You suddenly pulled off of him, leaving a thick trail of spit and precum connecting from his cock to your mouth. You smirked greedily at him as he whined pathetically. “W-Why.. Didn’t you..” He whimpered, his chest heaving with every breath. His cock looked as if one touch would make it explode. It twitched violently in the air, begging for release. You chuckle softly as you crawl atop of him once more, kissing him sweetly on the forehead.

“I’m not quite done with you yet, my heart,” You purred. You got off of him as you went to your nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube. “You wanted to do… Everything we discussed, right, Star?” You asked, turning to him. He took a deep breath and nodded eagerly. “Yes,” He replied. You smiled. “On your hands and knees for me then,”

He quickly obeyed, getting on his hands and knees and arching his back, letting you have full access to him. You sat behind him and gripped his ass cheeks firmly, nibbling on your bottom lip. “You remember what to say if you want to stop, right, Star?” You asked, starting to get your index finger lubed. “Y-Yes, my love,” He replied. You smiled and kissed the back of one of his thighs. “Very good boy,” You purred, your praise earning you an eager moan from the beautiful vampire before you.

You made sure to get your finger very well lubricated. You were quite nervous because you’ve only ever done such a thing to yourself, but you figured it couldn’t be too different.

You slowly circled Astarion’s asshole with your finger, making sure he was nice and relaxed. It twitched under your touch and Astarion let out a long breath. “That’s it, my star, just relax,” You praised, gently rubbing his leg with your other hand. Once you felt his hole was nice and relaxed, you slowly started to ease your finger inside, only until your first knuckle. He moaned softly as he stretched around you, and quivered. You stopped to give him some time to get used to it.

“How does that feel?” You asked soothingly. His legs quivered as he stuttered. “P-Please… More,” You smirked and hummed softly. “I want to hear you beg more, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” You purred. He whined and arched his back more, trying to sink himself more into your finger. “M-My love, please… I need you… inside me,” You could tell he was embarrassed, but you could also tell how much he liked it. A fiery desire was growing in his crimson eyes and it made you hunger more and more for him.

“Of course, my love. Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?” You said sweetly as you pushed your finger inside him further, nice and slow. Soon enough your finger was all the way inside of him. He stretched so nicely around you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much he could take… You supposed you would find out soon enough.

You reached underneath him with your free hand and took his cock in it, starting to slowly jerk him off. You moved your finger at the same pace; nice and slow. His breath quickened and he buried his face in the pillow, moaning out loudly. “Gods, yes!” He cried out. “Please, darling… More,”

Fuck…

The way he begged for more grasped something in you, a side of you that you didn’t even know you had. Your pace quickened, making sure to curl the finger inside of him to reach his special spot.

“Want another one?” You asked, reaching over to give the small of his back a small kiss, making sure not to touch the scar on his back. He nodded eagerly. “Yes, darling. Please,” He replied, frustration filling his voice. You pulled out just enough to line your middle finger up along with your index. You made sure to add some extra lube before slowly pushing the two fingers inside, once again waiting a moment to let him stretch around you.

Suddenly he let out a loud groan of frustration and started to move his hips into your fingers, fucking himself. You were slightly taken aback at this, but decided to take this moment to show who was in power here. You grabbed his hip and kept him still while you started to pump your dexterous fingers in and out of him.

He gripped the bed sheets tightly as he whimpered and shook with pleasure. He never knew he could feel anything like this before, and the fact that you were the one doing it made it that much better. Soon enough he could feel his orgasm slowly approaching.You could feel this as well, as his hole and cock were twitching violently. You slowly withdrew your fingers and got off the bed. He whined loudly in protest.

“D-Darling this is torture… Please just let me-“ His words were cut off as he saw you grab something from the nightstand; a double sided toy with a strap. It wasn’t too thick, or too long, but it was perfect to fit inside both of you easily. The strap was to keep it from slipping, which could very well easily happen since you were so wet. He bit his lip at the sight and smirked up at you. “Mmh, I’m excited for this,” He purred. You smirked back at him and gave him a hungry kiss, flipping him onto his back.

You quickly stripped your clothes and fastened the strap on, making sure it was nice and tight so it didn’t fall off. You got between his legs and generously lined the tip of the toy. You lined it up with his hole, as well as your own on the other side.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” You asked, petting his inner thigh gently with your free hand. He let out a small nervous breath and waited a moment. Soon enough he nodded, looking up at you with half hooded eyes.

“Please… Fuck me, darling.”

That was all the encouragement you needed. You slowly pushed the toy inside both of you. You both let out a loud long moan. Astarion took the toy surprisingly well, especially since he only had two fingers inside before. Regardless, you still waited to move so he could get used to the size of it, which was exactly what he did for you your first time.

His legs shook in excitement and his cock was twitching violently, leaking precum. It was truly a sight to behold… You looked into his eyes hungrily, silently asking for permission to move. He gripped your hips and pulled you into him, making you both gasp in pleasure. You placed your hands on his hips and took hold of them, slowly rolling your hips inside of him. Your side of the toy was angled just right, so every thrust pushed the toy up and against your g spot.

Astarion whimpered softly and reached down to his cock, taking a hold of it and stroking it slowly as you fucked him deeper. You knew he wouldn’t last long like this, especially after being denied his orgasm twice now.

Hmph, showed him. He does it to you all the time.

You decided to show mercy, finally, and rolled your hips faster and deeper, starting to feel your orgasm approaching too. Your core was on fire, seeing him so helpless under you set fire to your blood. You leaned down and locked him in a deep kiss. He whined helplessly into your mouth, gripping the back of your head with his free hand. He broke the kiss briefly to speak.

“M-My sweet, may I come? Please will you let me come this time?” His pleas were adorable, and it only made you pick your speed up even more, your hips now clapping against his. You moaned loudly and nodded.

“Yes, come with me. Be a good boy and come with me.”

His cries crescendoed as he came closer and closer. You lifted him slightly so you could get even deeper inside, and with one more thrust, you both came undone. Pleasure shook through you both like an earthquake. Your come covered the sheets underneath you and Astarion’s shot all the way up to his chest, some even reaching his jaw. He always was a shooter…

After you both came down from your highs you looked at each other, both of you breathing heavily. You were both stunned at how amazing that was. It was like nothing either of you have ever experienced before. It was surreal…

You were the first one to split the silence. “That was…” Astarion finished your sentence. “Amazing,” He chuckled, chest still heaving. You smiled and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. “Would you like to bathe with me, my love?” You asked, slowly pulling the toy out of both of you. He smiled and cupped your cheek. “Darling, there is nothing I’d like more.” He purred.

You grinned and leaned into his touch and reached out to run your fingers through his hair.

“Good boy.”

authors note: this is probably the hardest fic i’ve ever written… i’ve never written a submissive male before so if it’s not accurate or if some things said don’t match up to astarion’s character i’m sorry! also the tags are a bit different from my original teaser post, again sorry about that but i really really hope you all enjoyed!

taglist: @preparedfruit @my-horniness-is-okay

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #sub!astarion #sub!astarion x reader #18+ mdni

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jinkiezzsstuff · 1 month

Note

I absolutely loved the Emily and Charlie ideas you wrote so I was hoping to request another Charlie x male reader with some smut (but not the main focus). Idea being everyone going out for an evening with Charlie staying at the hotel to work, secretly wanting some company but telling everyone to have fun anyway. Reader didn't go out and found her later in the evening (maybe can tell how she's feeling) so offers some company/someone to cuddle. The main smut I'd like to include would be her leaving some scratch or kiss marks and her being quite touchy/hands on.

I’m so glad you enjoyed the others teehee i tried my best with this so i hope you enjoy it but im not too happy with how it turned out tbh, idk why, i guess it could be because i didn’t feel like during the smut scenes i did charlie justice, lmk what you think.

Charlie x male!reader

After Party

warnings: creampie, biting, scratching, kinda rushed smut, angsty charlie, possibly ooc charlie but i can’t tell, charlie n vaggie are friends, im not sure if there’s anything else, oh swearing, NOT PROOFREAD beware of errors.

word count: 2K

Charlie was tired. Between her father disbelieving in her, Alastor picking a fight with him, the failed meeting with Adam, and finding out Vaggie was an angel? She was over and exhausted. She tried to keep up her mood but she just couldn’t stop the spiralling thought process of handling everything on her own. It seemed like every step forward she had to take four steps back, nobody believed or respected her.

“Cmon, we needa little par-tay.” Angel whined pushing himself over the back of the couch dramatically. Charlie hummed, barely listening as the crowd of sinners lingered in the little living room-like area. “We don’t need anymore fuckin parties, spider.” Husk muttered before taking a big swig of his drink. “I don’t know, I think a little bit of recreational activity could really brighten the spirits!” Alastor exclaimed, and as much as Charlie would like to join the fun, if she didn’t finish up the work she had she knew it would only stress her out further, but she knew the others worked hard too and deserved a little treat.

Reaching into her pocket she pulled out some cash and beckoned over Alastor. “Here, why don’t you take everyone out to relax?” She said softly, despite her desire for company and hope that one of the few would stay back to assist. “Aren’tcha comin’ toots?” Angel who jumped up the moment Charlie pulled out money asked, putting one of his hands on her shoulder. “Oh no, i’ve got sooo much to do here, you guys go on without me! Bond a little!” She smiled as brightly as she could, although anyone with a keen eye could tell it was forced. In the back of her mind she was hoping for more punch back, more of her friends to beg her to come out with them, but instead they shrugged her off and left rather quickly.

Sighing Charlie rung her hands together and walked up the stairs slowly, vacant and alone, the hotel now seemed so eerie. She made her way to an office one that had been used by the whole team she had, so herself, Vaggie and Alastor. She plopped herself lazily on the ripped leather office chair, air slowly escaping the cheap foam as she did. Charlie couldn’t help the bitter feelings stirring around in her; she was always happy to help her friends and wanted them to have fun and relax, she just wished maybe they cared a little more about her? It was a confusing sensation, she knew Vaggie cared, but at times she felt more like a personal body guard rather than friend, and Alastor, she knew deep down, didn’t actually care.

Opening her phone she decided to try and ease her mind before sorting out the paperwork she had piling, unfortunately the universe wasn’t kind to her. Opening Sinstagram the first sight she was greeted with was Angels varying posts and stories which included all the crew members piled into a booth enjoying their drink of choice. It made a scorned yucky feeling of jealousy tangle within her stomach. Groaning she pulled open a drawer and stuck her phone in it, slamming it shut after. “It’s better to just work.” The princess mumble pulling the first stack of papers near her; the billing’s for their failed comercial.

After an hour of word Charlie sat back in her seat and messaged her sore neck. Pulling her phone from the drawer she checked the time. 23:48. Having no idea when the others would get back, she shuffled from the office to the second story balcony for some air. “Oh sorry I didn’t know you were here!” Charlie exclaimed, seeing you leant over the balcony railing. Looking over your shoulder you gave the little devil a warm smile. “You can join.” You say beckoning her forward, with a sigh and a forced smile Charlie came up alongside you, mimicking your stance. “What’re you still doing here?” Charlie questioned eyeing you from her peripheral. Your brow quirked and your face turned to confusion, with a quick hum you replied. “Just relaxing..?” The statement came out uncertain and wobbly, but you weren’t quite sure what she meant.

“No, i mean why didn’t you go out with the others?” Your head tilted back as you let out an ‘ah’, now understanding what she meant. “I just, well, this is the only time i get free yknow, always gotta be doing something so it’s nice to be alone, but i also want to have fun with them, but that drains me yknow?” Charlie quickly nodded her head at that completely understanding where you were coming from. “Yeah i know what you mean. I wish somebody stayed back with me.” Nudging yourself lightly into her, she met your eyes with curiosity floating in her own. “Well I stayed back, why don’t we relax together?” You suggest warmly, smiling fondly down at her. Charlie momentarily stuttered, blushing at the way her mind wandered to naughty places.

“Ahem, uh, sure! Yes! Let’s do that!” The princess fumbled, pushing herself away from your hold. You could tell she was flustered as she walked off leading you to whatever part of the hotel she’d choose to relax in, you felt a little voice in the back of your head egging you on to tease her, and who were you to deny your great mind. “Alrighty this it my room! Uhhh, why don’t we watch a movie or something..?” Charlie trailed off leading you into her bedroom.

You took a quick look around enjoying the aesthetic her room held. Charlie kicked her shoes off and pulled her jacket from her shoulders. “You can lounge on the bed if you want, i totally don’t mind!” You grinned and got onto the bed, watching as she frantically ran around “Calm down hun, you look real stressed.” You urged her frantic pacing causing loose hairs to tangle and fly out from her ponytail. “Ugh, i know!” Sighing she finally plopped on the bed beside you and laid back hands folded on her stomach and eyes closed. Leaning over slightly to look down on her, you observed her somewhat relaxed face as you watched her slow her breathing down. Assumably trying to cease the slow crawling panic that was clawing at her. “It may be a little forward but I heard compression and hugs can help stress, you wanna cuddle or some shit?” Your voice came out slightly tight a little unsure of how to go about the request. Charlie’s eyes fluttered opened and blinked toward you, after a moment of silent contemplation Charlie sighed happily opening her arms. With a huff and a smile you scooted down, wrapping your arms around her while laying beside her.

She scooted up into your side, her right hand sliding up your chest and around your shoulder. It sent shivers down your spine, and blood straight to your dick, embarrassingly so. Ignoring the sensation, your hand gently traced shapes into Charlie’s side where your arm was placed. Charlie’s head slowly lifted and shifted from the bed to your chest, tucking herself under your chin. Her hair tickled at your nose and chin, you could smell her shampoo and the perfume she’d used. You tightened your grip subtly, enjoying the warmth she let off, and with a hum she swung one of her legs over your hips, twisting her body entirely against you.

You took a deep breath attempting to calm your heart and the tightening sensation in your pants. Like the devil spawn she is, Charlie began tracing your chest, flattening her palm against your chest and trailing down from your neck, to the hem of your jeans, and back up to your neck again. Taking a deep breath you brought your hand up to you with her hair in attempts to distract you.

“Thanks for this.” She mumbled nuzzling her face further into your chest. You hummed eyes lazily dancing around shapes your eyes made up on the canopy above. “Any time.” You replied after a moment. The two of you laid there silently, softly the two of you let your hands drift across eachother innocently. It wasn’t until charlie’s hand ducted under your shirt to touch your bare chest that the air in the room got thick and heated. Breath hitching you zeroed in on her claws softly scratching down your chest. “Charlie,” You warned as her claw nicked the waistband of your jeans. Charlie knew good and well what she was doing, could you blame her? You’ve always been so attentive to her feelings and emotional state, the first to check on her after a stressful situation and give her the best advice you could.

With sudden need shooting through Charlie she straddled your waist bracing herself against your chest. Your hands reflexively went to her hips, eyes shooting up to meet her own attempting to figure out what the hell she was doing. She traced her claws down your tshirt covered chest, and when she made it to the bottom her hands wiggled underneath the fabric to paw at your warm skin. As she did you traced circles on her hips, and quirked a questioning brow at her. “Whatcha up to princess?” Charlie smiled shyly, trying to hide her face in her shoulder. “I just want to repay you for your kindness towards me.”

Your face twisted with worry, abruptly you sat up, making her gasp and tucked your hands behind her back to keep her from falling. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me,” You quickly say, however Charlie pushed you back down, shushing you as she did. “It’s more then just that, i think you know they though. Let’s relax, desttress.” With that being said, you tossed aside your tshirt while Charlie eagerly undid your pants, hands shaking as she did. Your hands decided not to diddly saddle and undo her pants simultaneously, needing to feel her speedily.

You were already achingly hard, precum dripping down your shaft as Charlie shakily gripped you giving your head a soft squeeze. Pulling her hand away Charlie kicked off the pants that clung underneath her knees, and readied herself against you. You hummed out in pleasure relaxing into the mattress as she sunk down onto you, above you Charlie whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, clenching onto every vein and ridge. It was delectable, she couldn’t understand why she’d never gone for this before. Bottoming out, Charlie’s legs shook, her body would involuntarily convulse every now and again as she attempted to adjust to the size of you. Falling forward unable to keep herself up she sunk her nails into your chest making you groan deeply, bucking your hips up into hers.

Nuzzling herself into your neck as you took the reigns, thrusting up into her at a steady pace, she began to leave teeth marks and hickies along your neck, desperate moans broken out between nips and bites. Your arms encased her pulling her near as you roughly fucked up into her at a brutal pace, her juices dripping down you. Erotic, loud slapping noises were all that you could hear in the room accompanied by Charlie’s whimpers and please. “Fuckkk, yknow how long i’ve waited for this? They don’t know what their missing not staying around someone like you.” You say splaying your fingers through her hair as you do, at this point Charlie’s body laid limp atop your own, your knees up and angled to continue your rapid pace.

“Please,” Charlie begged clenching tightly around you, you huffed out a moan that you attempted to cover and slid your hands down to squeeze her ass. Groaning loudly, you pushed her over, still inside you hovered over her, pulling her legs up over your shoulders to gain new access. With this angle you were able to hit different areas making Charlie squeal. “Oh fuck Charlie,” You groaned as your balls slapped against her ass, finally you felt the band snapping and slowly you filled her with cum, pumping all of what you had inside her. Charlie cried out clenching, and convulsing against you. She tried to inch away screaming your name loudly as she road out her high against you. When the two of you had finished, catching your breaths, you laid beside her, pulling her into your chest.

She rolled her head from one side to face you, her eyes glazed over barely seeming like she was there. “Didja mean what you said about wanting this for so long?” You nodded at her, the softness in her voice was music to your ears and made goosebumps crawl against your skin. “Yeah, since i got here, you’ve had my eye.” Humming softly the princess said nothing, but buried her head in your chest.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel oneshots #charlie magne x reader #charlie x male reader #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie morningstar x male reader #charlie magne smut

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

Note

A Batfam request you say?

How about a Jason Todd x artist male reader hurt/ comfort?

I feel like Jason feels pretty lowly about his own appearance, when it comes to all the scars on his body, reminders of what happened.

His boyfriend ( Reader) just out of nowhere asks if he could draw Jason, Of course Jason would ask why.

And the reader just replies with something like, 'You may not see much, but when I look at you, I see my whole world and future'.

Jason Todd x male reader

Headcanons

I’ve always found it kinda romantic and sweet when you see those scenes in movies with scenarios similar to this, so I had to write it the moment I saw it hehe.

- I agree that Jason most likely has some body image issues, I also think he’s self-conscious about the stretch marks I believe he has, as growing a lot of muscle over a short period of time creates stretch marks. He would most likely also have stretch marks since he was so tiny as a kid but is so big now.

- Jason also has some scars on his head, though they are mostly covered by his hair, from the time the Joker decided he needed to bust his head open with a crowbar.

- Jason acts like he isn’t self-conscious as he doesn’t see it as a valid reason to be feeling bad, I mean, he’s alive and healthy, mostly, so he has no reason to dislike his body, right?

- You notice it after a while though, in the way Jason always covers up in long sleeved and baggy shirts, hoodies or jackets. How he always avoids looking at mirrors for too long or how he works out at home because he can’t take seeing himself in the gym mirrors.

- You have caught him many times poking and looking at his body when you’re sitting and sketching, how he will lift his pec and let it drop just to look at the scars and stretch marks.

- You’ve caught him more than once staring at himself in the mirror when he finally stands in front of one, and looking disgusted with himself as he runs his hands all over the scars and other marks that litter his body.

- You have always drawn Jason, he’s your muse, how could he not be? Hes so beautiful in your eyes, every part of him from his eyes to his kissable lips, to his scarred hands and muscular thighs, he is like an Adonis figure to you.

- Most of your drawings of Jason have just been small personal sketches though, when he’s sat on the couch with the sun hitting him just right, or sketches of him from behind as he bends down just a little to cook.

- You are almost embarrassed to admit just how many pages in your sketchbook Jason covers, you haven’t shown him since you know it would make him flustered and make him feel embarrassed.

- But as times passed you’ve tried to think of ways to make Jason see himself in the light you see him, as the handsome man he really is even if Jason himself doesn’t see it.

- You’ve tried compliments and flirting, or hugging him and kissing his hands and shoulders muttering about how much you love them. Jason never takes it to heart though and you can tell.

- It’s a normal day when you return home to find Jason sitting on your shared bed in nothing but a towel, still slightly damp from a shower, his hair slicked back so it’s pushed out of his face.

- Hes sitting with his hands fisted in his lap, his fists almost shaking as he stares down at his body. When you first step into the room you can’t see the expression on his face, but as you get nearer you can see his eyes are wet.

- Making your way over you try to reach for him and ask if he’s okay, but Jason almost flinches back from your touch like he’s scared of it.

- It ends up with you sitting down beside him and not touching him since it seems to put him on edge and make him feel worse. Its silent between the two of you until you finally ask what’s wrong and tell him you won’t judge him.

- Jason’s never been much for talking about emotions, but you both decided communication is very important in your relationship, so he ends up confessing how he feels about his body somewhat, telling you he hates his scars and stretch marks and how they make him feel like a monster.

- You take his hand in yours after hesitating a little, and when he doesn’t pull away you lock your fingers with his and life his hand, turning it so you can kiss the back of it. You may have an idea that’ll help at least a little.

- When Jason looks at you ask if you can draw him, really draw him, not just sketches and the likes.

- Jason’s always loved your art, but he’s never let you sit down and truly draw him, so he doesn’t know what to say when you ask. You tell him that you want to show him how beautiful he really is to you, and though he hesitates Jason ends up agreeing because what could the harm be, and it might distract him from how he’s feeling about his body.

- Jason moves further up the bed and gets into a comfortable position, whilst you find a chair so you can sit back and get a full view of him. Hes still just wearing the towel and though he looks slightly uncomfortable with the situation, you can also tell he wants to do this with you.

- You get to work drawing him in one of your high-quality sketchbooks, really putting in the work to show on paper just the kind of man Jason is, and as time passes Jason seems to relax more and more until he’s comfortable on the bed.

- When you finish your drawing a few hours later, the two of you having spent the time just talking and listening to music, you get up and crawl up the bed to him, holding your sketchbook to your chest.

- Laying down beside him you ask if he’s ready, and though his anxiety about his appearance seemed to have come back somewhat he agrees.

- When you flip the sketchbook to show him, he almost doesn’t recognize himself at first. What you’ve drawn looks nothing like him if you asked Jason, the man you’ve drawn is handsome and muscular, his scars and stretch marks seeming to only make him look even more handsome.

- Jason is silent for a while, just taking in the art you drew, until you quietly tell him this is how you see him. That’s when the tears from before gather in his eyes again and for a moment you fear you’ve made him cry, until he turns his head and tucks it into your chest.

- Your sketchbook ends up somewhere to the side as you hug him, kissing the top of his head as he cries silent tears into your chest. Letting him get it all out, you wait with bated breath as he pulls back, face flushed and damp from tears, still fearing you did something wrong.

- That’s when Jason tells you no one has ever seen him as beautiful as that, that you make him so happy, and he can’t ever figure out what to do with the fluttering you give him in his chest.

- That’s when Jason leans in and kisses you, a kiss full of love and passion, trying his hardest to express just how he feels about you. After this the two of you cuddle, holding onto each other as if the other would drift away if you let go.

- Jason still feels self-conscious about his body, but maybe it isn’t so bad when you seem to love him so much.

#male reader #dc #jason todd #red hood #dc imagine #dc headcanon #dc x male reader #dc x reader #red hood imagine #red hood headcanon #red hood x male reader #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x reader

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iwanthermidnightz · 8 months

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youtube

Wow. Really great songs and videos that Maren released today. Please give it a watch! The article below is also a really good read. She’s so real for exposing the cracks in the facade of country music. Love this for her! Everyone go support Maren 🤍

Maren Morris calls her new two-track EP “The Bridge,” which is just one of several metaphors she deploys in imagining a path out of the world of country music in which she became a star.

On “The Tree,” the Grammy-winning singer-songwriter says she’s “done filling a cup with a hole in the bottom”; “Get the Hell Out of Here” opens with the admission that she “watered the garden but forgot to fill the well.”

It’s not that Morris, 33, has tired of twanging guitars or neatly cornered rhymes, both of which define the tunes that came out Friday, a decade after she moved to Nashville from her native Texas, first to write songs for established country acts such as Tim McGraw and later to sign a major-label record deal of her own. Rather, she says she’s leaving because of what she views as the country music industry’s unwillingness to honestly reckon with its history of racism and misogyny and to open its gates to more women and queer people and people of color.

“I thought I’d like to burn it to the ground and start over,” she says of country music. “But it’s burning itself down without my help.”

The singer acknowledges that, as a white woman, she’s benefited from the system as it is. Yet Morris, who says, “Allyship begins with waking up from something really comfortable,” has been vocal in her criticisms onstage and on social media, where she tangled last year with country star Jason Aldean and his wife over young people seeking gender-affirming healthcare. The spat even made it to Tucker Carlson’s Fox News show, where the right-wing host described Morris as a “lunatic.”

“The Bridge,” which marks Morris’ move to Columbia Records from the label’s Nashville division, arrives accompanied by a music video for “The Tree” in which she strolls through an emptied-out small town as she hears “the sound of a new wind blowing.” A sign welcomes visitors to the place “from sunrise to sundown” — a reference, perhaps, to the threat of racist vigilantism many perceived in Aldean’s recent “Try That in a Small Town” video; other signs in front of boarded-up buildings read “GO WOKE GO BROKE” and “DON’T TREAD ON ME.”

Morris is currently at work on her next LP with prolific pop producer Jack Antonoff, with whom she recorded “Get the Hell Out of Here.”

Obviously, being one of the few women that had any success on country radio, everything you do is looked at under a microscope. You’re scrutinized more than your male peers, even when you’re doing well. So I’ve had to clear all of that out of my head this year and just write songs. A lot of the drama within the community, I’ve chosen to step outside out of it.

Did that drama — your feud with the Aldeans, let’s say — push you in that direction? Or were you headed that way from the beginning?

I’ve always been an asker of questions and a status quo challenger just by being a woman. So it wasn’t really even a choice. I didn’t think of myself as a political artist. I just wrote songs about real life through a lens of deep respect for my country heroes. But the further you get into the country music business, that’s when you start to see the cracks. And once you see it, you can’t un-see it. So you start doing everything you can with the little power you have to make things better.

That doesn’t make you popular. But I don’t think that biting the hand that fed you is a real thing. It’s kind of a fallacy at this point, with all this fear-mongering about getting Dixie Chick-ed and whatnot. Country music is a business, but it gets sold, particularly to young writers and artists who come up within it, as almost a god. It kind of feels like indoctrination. If you truly love this type of music and you start to see problems arise, it needs to be criticized. Anything this popular should be scrutinized if we want to see progress.

But I’ve kind of said everything I can say. I always thought I’d have to do middle fingers in the air jumping out of an airplane, but I’m trying to mature here and realize I can just walk away from the parts of this that no longer make me happy.

Does your leaving country music mean the libs have been owned?

I’m sure some people may think that. And I would say, “Feel free. Go ahead.” I don’t want to have an adversarial relationship to country music. I still find myself weirdly wanting to protect it. But it’s not a family member. That’s the f—ed-up part, is that I’m talking about it as if it’s a person, but it’s not. So it’s a lot of deep deconstructing that I’m still unraveling.

These songs are obviously the result of that — the aftermath of walking away from something that was really important to you and the betrayal that you felt very righteously. But also knowing there’s a thread of hope as you get to the other side. I hope it comes across that way because I truly was in a space of hope when I wrote the two songs, even though “Get the Hell Out of Here” is really heavy. It’s about disarming that trauma and saying, “I can’t bail water out of this sinking ship anymore. It’s so futile. I choose happiness.”

Whose career path do you admire in terms of the ability to move from one style to another?

Certainly Taylor Swift. She’s been such a great friend over the years and has been really helpful in ways she probably doesn’t even realize in conversations I’ve had with her about everything you and I have been talking about.

You performed a song with Swift at an Eras tour stop in Chicago. What did you think of the show?

It was so inspiring. Performing for 3½ hours, three days in a row — no one can do that but her. And it’s such a supportive crowd: 90% women and 10% gays and dads. I’ve never felt so safe at a live show before. No one’s hammered or puking in the aisles or getting into a fight or anything. It’s just so joyful. And the way she makes that huge stadium setting feel intimate is astounding to me. In Chicago, I started running down the catwalk toward her after I came out of the hydraulic lift. She said, “Take your time,” and I was like, “OK, good, because this thing’s a mile long.”

#maren morris #I love her honesty and she’s been saying this stuff for a while #makes you wonder how deep taylors split with country music™️ is

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thatspookyagent · 1 year

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Being Jaskier's S/O (Bard!Male!Reader) would include...

Warnings: None!

a/n: These headcanons are sadly shorter than most that I write up (probably because I’m not writing and describing a whole relationship from very first meet up to finish lmao) but I hope that y’all enjoy this nonetheless. I am open to writing up more headcanons that are Witcher based in the future. And since Jaskier is lacking in some departments (Male!Reader & Black!Reader wise), I’ve decided to start with him first. Anyways y’all know the drill, if ya liked what ya read, REBLOG IT!

If you want to be tagged in any of my content, don’t be afraid to tell me via my ask box or through messages! Just remember to be clear about what specific kinds of content, characters, and fandoms you want me to tag you in or if you want to be put on my general tag list! I’m always looking to add more people and I’d be more than happy to add you (if you wish)! :3

Being a bard and Jaskier’s boyfriend means ultimately being both his muse and best friend

Would confide in you about his newest songs ideas and you’d always be the first to hear them whenever he performs a sample of it for you

You both first met in a bar, were you held an open challenge to see if anyone could out sing you or earn more applause than you while performing

Since you out played him significantly, he's been entranced by your skills ever since and decided to strike up a relationship with you, friends first but gradually lovers next

Takes your opinions personally and with utmost seriousness since you’re not only his partner but also a bard yourself

Gladly will always be there in order to lend you an ear or piece of advice as you would the same for him

Loves to discuss how different lutes sound and which ones look aesthetically the best with you because you can actually understand his excitement towards sexy lutes

Also you're the only one willing to make a ranking of best and worst materials to make lutes from with him

Speaking of lutes, he names the lute that he was carrying when he first met you after you

Will not let anyone but you use it or even touch it because it’s just that sentimental to him

If you name the lute that you were carrying when you first met Jaskier after him, he’ll probably have a good cry about that one later

And Jaskier will absolutely lose his mind (affectionately) if you carve his initials into your favorite lute

Enjoys talking and swapping stories with you while polishing each other's instruments around a campfire

A campfire is actually where you first confessed your affection for Jaskier, it was within a love song about two male bards just trying making their mark on the world through song alongside a white haired Witcher and his steed

From then on singing and laughing around campfires has been one of your top ways of bonding with the other male

Other ways you’ve expressed your love to Jaskier is by making and singing duets with him

Y’all are actually quite well known for singing together specifically ballads but also really romantic songs that touch just about everyone’s heart deepy

If Jaskier becomes your muse and you open up to him about this, he’ll also confess that you’re his muse as well

The two of you truly haven’t written and sung as many songs as y’all have now until you met one another

You’d also never been invited to perform at a ball before but since you and Jaskier became so popular, both of your voices have now had the honors of gracing many halls of kings and queens alike

It reflects with the amount of coin increasing in your pockets and fancy hand tailored matching outfits that both you and him adorn

If you’re not one for crowds particularly royal crowds, both you and your coin tossing boyfriend frequent many bars while traveling with Geralt, and are known on a more humble and local level than noble and global

The poor and hopeless citizens of many kingdoms, look to both you and Jaskier to entertain them, and distract them from their everyday worries

Either way, you’re both the ultimate bard power couple in any lands that y’all happen to be in

Now when it comes to specifically being a companion of Geralt’s, he enjoys having two bards at his side more than he likes to let on

While yes both and you Jaskier can be rather dramatic (and also noisy) as well as pretty much target practice when it comes to how useful the two of you are in battle, Geralt needs company beyond that of a horse from time to time whether he openly admits this or not

Not to mention you and the babbling brown haired nuisance named Jaskier, help to spread the word of Geralt and his deeds in a good light

Your penchants for being able to talk people’s ears off and distract them, can at times help the Witcher out whenever he’s in a pinch or when brute force isn’t really an option

Also Geralt can use both of you to look after Roach in various ways especially whenever he’s not around or doesn’t have the time to

You and Jaskier like to run your songs in progress by Roach who always proves to be a tough customer in that regard similar to her Witcher owner

After long days of walking, wailing, and song writing, a much needed rest is in order with your brown haired accomplice

Ways in which you and Jaskier wind down include taking baths together or preparing a bath for the other

Since there’s never really a silent moment between the two of you, reflecting on how both of your days went to each other is a recurring topic of conversation

At times that can drift off into convos about music or musical instruments but moments like this are for you and the other male to check in with and dote on one another

Which means that there’s quite a bit of pampering and more gentle laughter being shared as well as forgetting about all the other people that there are in the world

As far as you and Jaskier are concerned, you’re the main characters, it’s your shared story, and everybody else are just background characters

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sinfullyrosey · 2 years

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I Rank TWST Characters Based on Whether or Not I Find Them Physically Attractive or Not (Not Clickbait)

Eventually I’ll collect the braincells to finish one of my many x reader fic drafts and post it. But for now, watch me shallowly judge TWST characters and rank them based on my own specific tastes. Yes, you are free to judge and share your own thoughts. I love being told I’m wrong.~ uwu

All characters are 18+

Explanations under the read more. Yes, there is a method to my madness.

‘Cause the tier list didn’t include them, Neige is in Tier 5 and Che’nya is in Tier 4.

And good lord I ended up rambling way more then intended. I should have just said I find them pretty or ugly and called it a day. Guess that single exhausted braincell really was working overtime for this.

Tier 1 - My Own Personal Tastes

Says it right there on the tin. The loves of my life jk jk

Honestly, I don’t even know where to start with these? I just find these boys really pretty and attractive... I tend to lean towards males with longer hair (Jamil & Idia) and animalistic traits like sharp teeth or ears (Jack, Idia, & Jade). I especially love Jade and Idia’s smiles, both are so creepy, but I’m the weirdo that’s into that. I also have a thing for body marks like freckles and moles (Azul) and actually find some short guys to be cute (Riddle). There’s also the elephant in the room that is my monster lover self that’s into a wide range of non-human creatures; Jack being a wolf beastman, Jade being an eel mermaid, Azul being a cecaelia, and even Jamil having serpent traits and Idia being not entirely human what with his Hades-inspired undead aesthetic.

Most of it just boils down to aesthetics in their design and the fact that most of them, aside for Riddle, has some kind of in-human quality to them. There are other factors at play, but those are the main ones.

Tier 2 - They’re Attractive, But Lack Spice

Basically, I also find them to be very attractive, but they don’t quite hit those specific tastes when it comes to their overall design. Usually it’s because they either lack something or a certain trait throws off the whole design for me. Like Kalim sharing many traits I like in Jamil, but having other traits that hold him back (having shorter hair, having too much going on with his design, having a more childish demeanor, etc.). Epel is very pretty in a superficial way, and I’ve always loved characters with lavender hair, but he looks too young at times and is working on becoming more manly, which will ruin his more delicate features in my opinion.

Silver is like an older version of Epel, but with silver hair and a knightly aesthetic, but he also always looks to angry, which makes him unapproachable. Ruggie is pretty cute to me with a roughish edge (and I just want to pet his adorable ears, please), but I can’t get past how malnourished his design makes him look sometimes due to the oversized clothes. Sebek has a very unique design, being half-human, half-fae, but similar to Silver, he usually looks so angry and stern. He has a beautifully mirthful smile and I just wish they’d show off his chompers more!

Tier 3 - They Have Their Moments

They’re only attractive in very specific instances that usually heighten certain physical traits of theirs. This can include a wardrobe change, a certain facial expression, a scenario, etc. I don’t quite find them attractive on their own, but rather, only when it’s in tandem with something else. Malleus looked best in the trailer for the game when he’s floating out of his coffin. He looked dark, mysterious, yet dangerously alluring. But in game, he kind of resembles a rat, what with his weird mullet hair. Rook and Floyd both pull off the dangerous predatory, yet attractive vibe, but ultimately are only portrayed as quirkily scary in the game (i.e. they kind of look like creeps/psychos). Lilia has his whole Gothic punk thing going on, which is fine, especially when he acts more wild and playful. However, I kind of wish he had a “true form” where he actually looked older/was taller, instead of looking younger than the rest of the cast. Yeah, it’s funny in theory, but doesn’t give him much attractive points.

Tier 4 - Average Joe

On a surface level, they would be considered attractive to some, but ultimately don’t have anything that really separates them from others. For me, it’s that one or two traits ended up holding them back from breaking the mold, or they have traits that tend to be overused and thus, makes me feel like I’ve seen them before in other characters.

If Leona was darker skinned and his overall design really leaned into the feral lion look, he would be higher. If Divus had more canine-features like fangs or something, he’d be higher. Deuce looks like a generic anime protagonist, but a good color scheme going. Che’nya is just another Disney cheshire neko boy with a quirky design. Sam needs a rework on his color scheme and should have more skull face paint (yes, even more so than the original JPN ver.) And as for Vil, I really think they should have given him a different hairstyle. I’m sorry, but I just can’t stand his hair color and style. It reminds me of an onion.

Tier 5 - Not My Thing, but They’re Not Ugly

I don’t find them ugly, but I really do not care for how they look. Nothing about their designs are appealing to me in that way, but I can see why others would. Cater, Ace, and Trey don’t have anything with their design that stands out to me. The closest thing was Ace’s Ghost Wedding attire and slicked back hair, but it was only a one time thing, hence why he’s not in Tier 3. As for Prof. Trein, for an older gentleman, he still looks fairly good. He has a refined look to him and is well kempt, but I’m not into older dude’s like that, so no. Neige is cute and definitely captures Snow White’s vibe, but his outfit is just all over the place to me and contrast so much.

Tier 6 - ew

They’re just ugly. I’m sorry, but they’re just so unappealing to me why do some people find them attractive I just-?! Crowley is so weird looking to me, which is disappointing ‘cause I love bird-related designs and he had the potential but ended up looking like an unkempt, Gothic carnival reject, instead! Yes, I’ve seen the fanart with his mask off and I still find him unattractive. As for Vargas, I’ve just never been into the muscley type of men with the strong chiseled face.

Other

Grim and Lucius are literal cats and and I can’t see Ortho as anything but a little brother (yes, I’m aware he’s around the 1st years age). He probably would fit under Tier 2 if he wasn’t so baby.

#Rosey Rankings #I ain't putting this in the main tags f that #also this in no way correlates to whether or not I find these characters datable #also also I only did this list because I had a realization that I only found Vil to be average in appearance #and the thought of him being offended by this made me cackle #like sorry but up your game /Schoenheit/

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heckyeahponyscans · 1 year

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Thoughts and Spoilers for MYM #8

Episode summary: Oh no, Sparky has gone missing!!

Hitch is frantic and the ponies are searching everywhere . . . but unbeknownst to them Misty is hiding Sparky right under their noses, in a supply closet in the Crystal Brighthouse. Opaline has promised her a cutie mark if she brings Sparky to the dark castle, but wrangling the baby dragon is harder than it seems! In the end Misty doesn’t succeed in bringing Sparky to the castle, but she does capture some of his dragonfire in a jar for Opaline.

General Thoughts: Hitch’s connection with Sparky and his worries about whether he’s being a good “dragon dad” were very heartfelt. I like that we see a male character in a nurturing, child-care role, which is still pretty uncommon. The B-plot with his friends getting in each other’s way was a little too simple for me (it seems like they should be past that) but it didn’t take up too much time so it’s fine.

Misty was the standout of this episode. You can really see how being raised by Opaline has influenced her. She will do ANYTHING to get her cutie mark, but she’s also naive and blind Opaline’s true nature . . . Misty promises Sparky that she will return him to Maretime Bay later, as though Opaline would ever let him out of her sight again.

Her return to Opaline, empty-handed (except some dragonfire caught in a jar) is heartrending as she crawls across the floor, practically hyperventilating. The dragonfire super-charges Opaline’s magic, but not to the extent she wants, and she unleashes on Misty like we’ve never seen before, screaming at her and calling her useless. This feels like a pivotal moment, where the scales start to fall from Misty’s eyes. Up to this point she has always been solidly in Opaline’s corner--believing that she is the rightful ruler of Equestria, trying to bond with her, trying to make her proud. But here she ends up crying in her room. “For somepony made of fire, I’ve never met a heart so cold.”

Other random thoughts:

- I liked Hitch’s Batman impression. And he even got Zoom and Thunder in on it!

- Misty managing an incredible acrobatic feat (dodging Sparky’s Home Alone traps), only to berate herself for her one mistake (tripping afterwards) was apropos

- awwww!

- I do feel Sparky is cuter in 2D (like the Tell Your Tale shorts) and 3D. Like, I don’t find him repellent or anything, but I dunno, his face could be better. I like his horns a lot, though.

- I really like how strong light shines through the ponies’ ears, just like an actual animal with a thin ear

- Zipp’s stressing me out by leaving the nail polish hanging over the edge like that

- Pipp: “Ooo, that is a good point”

Zipp, instantly: “Is it though?”

- Pearl, the dog! I assume she’ll be a pet in a future playset

- Hitch tells the seagulls to search “the old defense factory”, which implies that CanterLogic did shut down. I hope we get an update on what Phyllis is doing at some point.

- the dramatic lighting in Hitch’s Batman scenes are *chef’s kiss*

- Her body language . . . Awww Misty :(

- Opaline says it’s been “hundreds of moons” since she last saw dragonfire; I’m going to assume a moon equals a year because it would be odd for someone to say they saw something “hundreds of months ago”

- The texturing on this tar is just really nice. Like it has that oil-slick patterning on the top and everything. Also, both tar and feathers are being stored in the basement. Oh animators, you so sly!

- Not only does Opaline’s horn and wings fare up, but parts of her body become opalescent

- Opaline’s speech is incredible. “Alicorns ruling like they were meant to.” “No more of this equality stuff.” “The citizens of Equestria should fear and love their immortal rulers!”

- This is basically a deconstruction of G4, where that was the role of alicorns. I remember there was a lot of fan speculation about Sunny becoming the new ruler of Equestria after the G5 movie came out, before there was other media.

- Poor Misty, Opaline was terrifying when she lashed out. What a great villain though!

- I liked Opaline’s simple, impatient toss of her head to activate her magic scrying pool

- Oh noooo, is that a childhood drawing of Opaline? Oh nooooo.

#My Little Pony #MYM #Make Your Mark #spoilers #G5 #Misty Brightdawn #Misty #Hitch Trailblazer #Sparky Sparkaroni

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cherry-pop-soda · 4 months

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bad movie reviews: barbie of swan lake

i’m a fan of the old barbie animated movies, and i’ve already seen a pretty decent handful of them, so I decided to make this review more entertaining by throwing some common tropes i’ve seen in barbie movies into this mini bingo card. I will keep track of this throughout this review, and at the end we can see how many spaces this film covers. let’s play barbie movie bingo !!

before I even begin the film I can already mark off “based off a famous ballet/fairy tale” because I already know swan lake is a ballet, so there’s one space down! one caveat though, I haven’t actually seen the ballet of swan lake before, so I went into this film not knowing the story at all. for this review I did a little research on the original story of swan lake so I can point out the differences in the barbie version.

the movie starts with barbie telling kelly a story about a girl named Odette, and a magic spell that turned her into a swan (mark off a space for kelly on the bingo!). this is also the first big difference I noticed between this film and the original swan lake. apparently in the original swan lake, odette is a princess, and her companions are also all humans, and they all turn into swans at daybreak. in the barbie version, Odette is a village girl, and only she turns into a swan. her companions are elves, each cursed to turn into a different animal. (we’ll get back to them later).

shortly after this the love interest is introduced in the form of a guy called Prince Daniel (hes the middle picture). I immediately noticed that he looks like a direct copy of both Julian from Barbie Princess and the Pauper (righthand side) and Stefan from Barbie Rapunzel (lefthand side). He literally has the exact same face model as Julian and the exact same hair as Stefan. mark copied models off the bingo!

in the ballet, original Daniel is actually called Siegfried, but I will call him original Daniel just to make it less confusing. Apparently in the ballet, original Daniel is a bit immature, not ready to give up being a bachelor and get married, which his mother is pressuring him to do (which she also does in the barbie movie, so I can mark that off the bingo too!). basically it seems like original Daniel would rather party than settle down and get married. I can’t really say how similar barbie Daniel is, because although it’s definitely implied that he is reluctant to choose a wife and would rather travel the world, he really doesn’t have much of a personality beyond the.. uhhh… literally two scenes maximum where he’s shown to have an interest in traveling and exploring?? so I think we can also mark off the bingo space for male love interest not being given much of a personality.

now let’s talk about the animal sidekicks, because no barbie movie doesn’t have animal sidekicks, and don’t worry, they’re just as uncomfortably horny/weirdly romantic as always, as we can see in this scene where this porcupine reacts. like that?? to skunk spray?? (mark off horny animals on the bingo!)

the thing that makes this more uncomfortable to me is the way these characters are animated in their true forms. Because of the villain Rothbart’s spells (i’ll get to him soon too, oh god), they are cursed to be animals the same way Odette is cursed to be a swan. But for whatever reason, whoever animated this movie didn’t create designs for the elves that actually look like elves?? instead they made the questionable decision to just use the same models they use for animating children. so the elves carlita (the skunk) and ivan (the porcupine) from above, who are sort of in love with each other throughout the film, look like this:

(also also, ivan and carlita both have sort of odd accents, kind of in the same vein as the infamous horny weasel from barbie rapunzel, so mark that off the bingo too)

also, side note for bad animal anatomy on the bingo, why tf did they give this unicorn a dumptruck??? what is going on here??

ANYWAYS. continuing on. the villain of the story is a guy named Rothbart, who is… portrayed in a very. Questionable way?? I’ve heard people talk about this before and I don’t know enough about the issue to say anything definitively, but he does seem… jewish coded, in a way that kind of feels really antisemetic. and it’s also weird because his cousin, the queen of the fantasy world where swan lake is located, doesn’t share any of the same facial features…

(ignore the random chinese subtitles, i watched and got most of my screencaps of the film from a version of it posted in 3-4 minute chunks on youtube with english and chinese subtitles underneath, it’s fine)

also, the “magic crystal”. Barbie Odette finds it in a tree and pulls it out, not knowing that this makes her special in some way because I guess nobody has been able to do it before?? sort of like a king arthur sword in stone type of deal? But in the original ballet, as far as I saw, there is no magic crystal. anyways, after she finds it, barbie odette tries to go back home because she doesn’t think she’s brave enough to go on a big quest to save the creatures of swan lake, but she gets turned into a swan by Rothbart, so she can’t leave.

Odette finds out there’s a special book that has the answers to how to break the curse turning her into a swan, in a library guarded by a troll named Erasmus, who seems to have pretty intense mood swings, and also, randomly has a british accent (mark that off the bingo!).

at some point during this, prince Daniel adventures into the forest, looking for animals to hunt. He sees Odette as a swan? being chased through the air by Rothbart (who has a scary looking bird form) and almost shoots her with an arrow, but decides not to. then he sees her transform into human form (this confused me because I thought they could only transform into humans from sunset till sunrise, but in the scenes leading up to this it seems to be daytime??? idk.)

this is also different from the original ballet, because apparently original Odette doesn’t trust or really care for original Daniel all that much when she first meets him, but barbie Odette and barbie Daniel get along well from the beginning. they even have dinner together under the moonlight and dance in the forest directly after first meeting each other, and prince Daniel invites Odette to the royal ball the following evening (mark “royal ball invitation” off the bingo!)

according to the special book from erasmus’ library, the one way to break the swan curse on Odette is for someone to declare their love for her and her ONLY. so, because this is a barbie movie, the elves decide she must go to the ball and dance with Daniel so he’ll declare his love for her, even though they literally met.. I don’t know, like eight hours ago, tops??? (mark “immediately falling in love” off the bingo!)

unfortunately for all of them, Rothbart hears/finds out about all of this, and hatches a plan. He enchants a necklace worn by his daughter Odile so it will make her look exactly like Odette in the eyes of Daniel, so he’ll be tricked, and accidentally declare his love for her instead of the real Odette. it’s not really clear to me if everyone else at the ball sees Odile for who she really is, or if everyone is tricked into seeing her as Odette. (i think it’s the first one personally). either way, Rothbart’s plan works. Daniel accidentally proposes to Odile instead of Odette, realizes his mistake, and tries to fight Rothbart to undo it, to no avail.

side note again- the thing I don’t get about this is how he didn’t recognize Rothbart in the ballroom?? I don’t think Rothbart’s disguise is very good, I honestly didn’t even realize he HAD a disguise the first time I watched that scene.

anyways, this is where the movie drastically differs from the original ballet. In the ballet, Odette is cursed to be a swan forever, and original Daniel throws himself into the lake after her, sacrificing himself and breaking the spell as they both die.

it’s not surprising that the barbie version didn’t do this, since it’s meant for kids, but i’m not really quite sure what was happening in the barbie version either. I think, in the final showdown in the forest between Rothbart and Daniel and Odette, Rothbart blasts both of them with his evil magic as they both try and fail to shield each other. They both pass out for a while, or maybe they’re briefly dead?? either way, while they’re unconscious, the curse breaks, I guess because their sacrificing themselves for each other means true love???

then they wake up, Daniel proposes to Odette, and they get married and that’s the end of the film!! Hooray!!

now let’s check back in on our bingo card:

four bingos, and the only two spaces not marked off I really only left off on technicalities. thanks for joining me for this very long winded round of barbie movie bingo!

(if you enjoyed this and want me to review more films, you can suggest them to me here!)

#bad movie reviews #long post #lengthy post #WHY IS MY FUCKING READMORE NOT WORKING #edit: apparently it is working! it wasn’t in my drafts lol

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lioncunt · 2 years

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so basically i’m just watching this as it’s own show now and not relating it to the books at all. i think it’s fucking dumb they didn’t put a domestic violence trigger warning - not because of the brutality itself, which is par for the course in the books, but because it was an intense level of physical abuse in a marriage.

i’m still maintaining: that wasn’t book lestat. NOT because he isn’t capable of that level of violence, because he absolutely is and he does it against armand. he is a terrible person and anyone saying he isn’t doesn’t actually like his character, they like a version of him they made up. BUT he just never does that against louis. and also, that’s not to say he isn’t abusive towards louis in other ways, or to negate the impact OF that emotional abuse. i’m saying that this was a level of torture against louis that is out of character for book lestat and in my opinion not necessary and in poor taste to depict against louis’ character. in all other versions of this story, louis never suffers like this. there are a couple of equally matched fights that louis and lestat have early on in the first book, but they’re both powerful white men and neither of them comes away with any injuries. lestat in the book is the same age as louis and has only been a vampire for ten years when he meets him, so there’s much less of a power imbalance. he even has his living father come live with him and louis. they also aren’t explicitly romantic in the first book. it’s not at all comparable to the situation on the show and i wish people would stop bringing it up as evidence to justify what happened.

all that to say, it’s become very clear to me that this is not the lestat from the books, despite their insistence it is. and that’s okay! i just wish they wouldn’t have said he’d be book accurate if they planned on departing THIS much from his character.

im coming into this series after having obsessively followed its development for a year. they said they’d be very true to lestat and loustat from the entire book series, so that’s why i’m really confused by this. it seems antithetical to what they were trying to accomplish by making lestat WORSE than he was at his very lowest in the books, when they said they wanted to make him more of the lovable antihero anne decided on in the second book onwards. again, im not condoning any of the fucked up shit he does in the books or saying he’s some misunderstood nice guy. this is a very specific thing that i think is ooc.

i think what happened to claudia was a fucking abhorrent joke. including sa to toughen up female characters and make male characters sad. it’s 2022 do better. again, it never happened to the character in any other iteration of this story.

anyone saying “it’s horror, they’re toxic, what did you expect” - come back to me when you’ve read lestat slaughtering 500 men because he’s mind controlled then wiping their blood on his hands so he’s marked as unclean. or louis beheading santiago and kicking his severed head across a burning theater. or armand cutting nicolas’ hands off to punish him so he can’t play the violin in his insanity. or armand (always armand lmfao) sewing claudia’s head onto an adult body. THAT is the horror of this book series. louis and lestat’s relationship, while toxic and emotionally abusive, is never depicted with outright extreme one-sided physical torture. i’m not mad about the violence, im mad about who it was against.

anyway, that’s my two cents. like i said im invested in this show and i am going to continue watching it and talking about it, albeit much less on here because i really dislike some of the takes i’ve seen. i understand if a lot of my fellow book fans fall off here, i was debating it too, but my love of amc louis and claudia and my curiosity to see how they’re gonna make people want to watch this version of lestat be a protagonist have won out.

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josiebelladonna · 2 years

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since i decided “why not” and figured out that being a fat girl is part of my destiny exactly six years ago (and then went ahead and embarked on it almost two years ago), there are definitely pros and cons.

the cons:

you are quite literally hungry all the time, especially if you’re like me and you gained by eating more and more. every couple of hours to 90 minutes, like clockwork, i swear to god, i feel my stomach rumbling at me. i often caught hell as a kid for “being hungry all the time” but it’s the real thing now. i last ate at 2: it’s sounding like a wild animal right now at 5.

the stigma of being chubby or fat. kind of obvious, but it’s the truth. i knew right away when i made my first post about it that it was going to raise some eyebrows, as if i just admitted to dog fighting (”how COULD you?! gain weight on purpose?”). but there’s this general assumption that if you’re fat, something went horribly wrong and now your health is automatically in jeopardy because of it (the flipside is if you lose weight, you’re automatically healthy and you get congrats from everyone and their dog), which i never understood first-hand because i always felt better whenever i put on a few pounds in the past - plus, there’s actually no conclusive link between obesity and the diseases it’s often associated with because thin people get them just as easy. sure, there are plenty of people who’ve gotten heart disease or diabetes and they were heavy, and when they lost the weight, the disease went away so it’s easy to put two and two together there, but just because it happened to them doesn’t mean it’ll happen to me, too. (i got heavy because i have a naturally heavy frame and i started eating more and more all around) there’s also this weird assumption that fat people are dumb, too. not at all true: i knew what i was getting myself into when i looked at 200 pounds back in 2020 and said “fuck it, i’m doing it”. i know my body more than you or anyone else, i’m not dumb for wanting to be fat. blanket statements are deadly, especially when it comes to humanity because we’re all so complex and different from one another.

i notice the little bounce in my growing belly, the double under my chin, the stretch marks, the little “extra” on my shoulders, the cellulite on the backs of my thighs, the floor creaking under my full weight, all of it. and it’s always there. (read: you become really aware of your body, speaking as someone who became really aware of her body during the first year of covid)

i get winded more easily. it’s harder to do things like cross my legs when i’m sitting down or lay flat on my back and look down at my toes.

i’ve been using the bathroom a little bit more? my digestion’s been screwy since i was about 10 so i barely notice this one but it’s something i’ve picked up on lately. not much more, like one or two extra times.

don’t know about fat men, but when a woman is fat, she’s deemed unattractive and undesirable and it winds up killing her confidence, which just feels so wrong to me. i’ve often felt that some people, male or female or enby, just look way better with weight, too, so of course this kills me a bit.

i genuinely feel like i’m turning into a potbellied pig some days. between my messy habits and my looking at boys, i feel like an absolute pig of a woman and i’m getting the belly to back it up.

the pros:

there’s actually a silver lining to being hungry all the time, and it’s this: you get to eat more, especially if you’re like me and you just love to eat and you have since you were little. if something is delicious, i want more of it. since i’m bigger and heavier now, i’m wanting three or four more helpings of something now. you should be thanking me.

another (sort of?) silver lining is even though i got this big by eating more frequently (and i actually don’t eat a lot of junk food, either, just a lot of rich food), i’ve never been more enticed by food that’s genuinely fattening like funnel cake, chicken and waffles, or the most beautiful food in the world, donuts. before i gained all this weight, i was turned off by funnel cake and deep-fried oreos (i was always curious by all of that but i often decided not to try it because i was so self-conscious back then): my mom and i are going to try to go to the ventura county fair next week and i’m definitely going to eat a big one of those. i can’t remember the last time i loved milkshakes this much. i see donuts now and i go feral inside.

you become really aware of your body and because of that, you start exploring it more and more (always healthy and good).

i get winded more easily but i also breathe more deeply, though, like i was standing out on the porch just now as the wind was blowing and i took in the deepest breath i ever took in my life. it felt good! (and just because i get winded more easily doesn’t mean i’m lazy, either)

i haven’t been able to cross my legs since i was like 10 so no complaints there.

and when i lay flat on my back and look down and see this huge round dome of a belly in the place of my toes, i get very aroused, like it’s genuinely erotic for me. (i remember being like 12 or 13 and laying on my back and looking down at my toes and distinctly saying out loud, “i wish i never had to see my toes as i’m laying on my back ever again.” they were starting to disappear behind my belly when i was at 150 pounds, so there)

i’d rather use the bathroom more than not use it all.

it’s a lifelong dream come true for me? as a little girl, i would pretend to be fat. as a slightly older girl, i wanted to show off my belly and it’s always the first thing i look at when i look in the mirror (it’s the first thing i see when i look at alex, too). as a pre-teen, i would sneak in treats when no one was looking. as an anorexic teenage girl wanting to hang herself, i wanted to let go of control and eat whatever i wanted without judgments. i really feel like this is something i should’ve done years ago, like when i was 18 because i lived alone then, because i love it that much.

over the years, i always feel good whenever i gained some weight. yes, even as someone tormented by anorexia: the voice of pleasure was often crammed way in the back of my mind, but i would hear her. i never liked it when i lost weight because i always felt like i was doing it for someone else.

earlier, after i posted a new chapter of dead man walking and i had a big lunch (and i mean, big: a big bowl of veggie pho, a bowl of pretzels, a few meatballs, and a big ham and cheese sandwich), i lay down flat on my back and my belly rose so high up right before my eyes. every night when i go to bed, i roll over onto my back and lay my head flat on the mattress and let her rise like a loaf of bread, and i run my hand along the curve and it feels so hot. it literally makes me wonder why everyone’s so self-conscious (where fat women want to cover up everything, i want to show off skin all the time because i have more of it now). because of this...

I LITERALLY CANNOT STOP LOOKING AT MY BODY AND TAKING PIX OF IT. i literally can’t. i also can’t stop touching my own body, either. (one thing about my body that mesmerizes me to of great extent is my belly button of all things: when i let my belly rise up while i’m down on my back, there’s something so hypnotic about the way it rises up the highest, like it gives me the sexiest feeling).

with sexy feelings comes sexy thoughts. i’m experiencing fantasies and wanting to do things that i never even thought i would ever experience before in my life (like tying up my hands behind my back and eating six donuts or a whole pie. i’ve actually eaten a whole pie solo before and most donuts i’ve eaten is four so just imagine the swoons that swept over me at that).

i also can’t stop picturing myself as bigger and heavier. i’m at 260 now: i wonder how i would pull off 270 pounds, followed by 280, and then 300 and beyond. i keep wondering how heavy i would have to be for my belly to extend out so far that it forces my legs apart. i keep picturing my body fuller and heavier as my stomach grows more and more. i keep wondering just how much heavier i can possibly get, too: where do i stop? 300 pounds? 350? 375? 385? i’m on the fence about astrology but my chart says i’m supposed to get really fat when i hit 30 years old: i’m 29 and i’m already ahead of the game on this one, so of course i’m curious.

like, there really is some truth to the phrase “fat and happy”: i feel myself getting happier and more like myself as i get fatter.

like i said last night, it’s devious and rebellious and rock n’ roll. you shock people and it’s genuinely a lot of fun, too.

and potbellied pigs are adorable, and i feel sexy with a potbelly, too.

i’m properly porky now. even with the cons, i couldn’t ask for anything else, tbh. other than more pounds, but that’s a given, though.

#fat girls #fat life #personal #text

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