#he means well but jesus the memory is not there lol

[chipthekeeper]

“Have you ever seen the music video for this?” — my dad literally EVERY time we hear Take On Me, despite my having told him yes each of the last thousand times

#this is right up there with him asking if i want fried eggs every sunday morning #when i have never once in my life answered yes #he means well but jesus the memory is not there lol

[tremendum]

Mr. Miller’s House 

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her, use of the word girl)    

rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.)      

word count: 7.6k  requested: yes  summary: “Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months.” warnings: mentions of food/eating, drinking alcohol, age gap (unspecified), Jackson era, Ellie gets a splinter, Joel is honestly rude to Ellie in this and reader is judgy about Joel’s parenting practices lol. but really,  this is just filthy smut (PiV, unprotected), dirty talk, sir kink, use of the word slut a LOT, one use of the word bitch, humiliation/degradation, hints of masochism, choking, exhibitionism, public smut, rough sex, dom!Joel, mean joel, lots of fighting/anger, cumplay, dirty talk, ass spanking, pussy spanking, mentions of blood (reader gets scraped knees), throat/facefucking, rough oral (m!receiving), overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms. lmk if i missed any please lmfao

notes: okay jesus fucking christ!!! i wrote this so fasst lol but it was fun and highly requested. hope yall like it.  as always reblogs/asks/comments are always great motivations :’) this is not reread because as i have said before im lazy and INSANE! 

[this is a sequel to Mr Miller.    part three   other Joel fics:     fever       landmines  ]

★  

this was a mistake. you shouldn't have done this....this was a terrible idea. 

fuck. 

the chair is stiff beneath you. there's a hard coolness about it that is welcomed on the skin of your bare legs, the shorts you wear helpful in the heat of summer but futile against the slick of sweat that sheens your skin. the chair is hard, but yet still strong, sturdy.

 you swallow dryly, heart beating fast. it's the same chair you sat at just a few weeks ago, signing the log with Joel leaning over your shoulder, before he-

you look away, around, anywhere in order to avoid the memories, hot and boiling and clawing at your mind and suffocating you until you stop breathing- and then your eyes settle, they glue themselves across the kitchen table. 

they glue themselves to him. 

fuck. 

Joel's already staring at you; his lips are downturned in that permanent grimace he always sports, the muscles of his torso rigid with immobility - perhaps he thinks if he's still enough, the ground will just swallow him whole and he won't have to do this. 

you yearn for that escape as much as he does. 

then, out of the silence; "see, this isn't so bad." 

speak for yourself, Ellie. 

both heads in the room turn to the speaker slowly, the girl watching between the two of you, more than willing to ignore the obvious disdain in the air. she's grinning like a damn devil. 

this girl's going to kill you. 

it is that bad, contrary to Ellie's statement. 

it'd been days of her begging you, with a tug on the hand, a punch to the shoulder, and countless pleads and threats until you finally caved in and accepted her proposal to have her and Joel over for dinner. 

no matter how much you detest her guardian, you just can't resist those big puppy-dog eyes, or that gigantic, youthful smile. 

for the last few months, Ellie has grown to be quite the little farmhand for you; though you like to keep to yourself on your days in the gardens, it was nice to have the girl buzzing around you and the other gardeners, pollinating each person she sees with questions like what really happens in germination and is this ripe? can I pull it? 

it's cute, how excited she is to show Joel all of the crops you've grown with her in the last few months. but what isn't cute, is that it's him that has to be here. of all people, why did Joel have to be the one Ellie chose as her father? 

because.... things weren't okay between you and Joel. 

you're not sure if you were childish for expecting for him to warm up to you after - well, after the time he bent you on this table and fucked you stupid - but you hadn't been prepared for the coldest shoulder you've ever gotten in your measly life for the last few weeks. 

it didn't help that the summer was kicking up and you needed more crops than ever for the commune; your patrolling had dwindled into maybe one or two every week or so, usually with Maria - so you didn't have to face Joel, really, at all. 

but he avoided you like the plague when in town or on your street (though, he did that with everyone) and even at the Tipsy Bison, where your presence would clean him from the room before a drop of condensation could even slide down his glass of whiskey. 

hell, maybe he even put a word in with Maria and Tommy that the last patrol together didn't go as planned; you'd even considered doing it at one point. you're not sure, but it just made you all the more irritated when you'd catch glimpses of their porch in the afternoons, Joel holding a guitar around Ellie's chest, chuckling as she strummed horribly. as if everything was okay. like you didn’t exist. 

the anger and hatred grew awful. 

it festered, grew when Maria mentioned off-handedly to Tommy that some woman, Dahlia, had taken a liking to Joel. you'd nearly shattered the glass you were holding in your fist at that; Joel, with Dahlia? that grumpy piece of shit, taking a liking to someone sweet and kind like her? 

you ought to punch his fucking face. 

you're zoned out when Ellie suddenly comes into your line of sight; reaching over your chest to grab a slice of the fresh bread you'd picked up earlier that day. you blink back into reality as Joel grunts, "E-Ellie, hey." he's shaking his head as he gestures to her arm, "use your manners." 

he sounds almost embarrassed; annoyed. your mind betrays you as it whirls back; when Joel had you pinned down on this very table, commanding you in a different way, his eyes dark with delight as you cried and writhed for him. 

but at his chastising, you send Ellie a sneaky look, rolling your eyes when Joel's looking down. the girl chuckles at that and an untrusting Joel stares daggers between the two of you. Ellie clears her throat with a smirk,  "sorry. can you please pass me the bread?" 

you grin, "why, yes, ma'am." you hand her the basket, "thank you for asking." you add to the girl on your right, your eyes on Joel's. he stares back harshly, hand grabbing for the glass of wine that sits in front of him. 

another few moments of tension before Elie decided to take it upon herself to introduce as much of the food that sits on the table in front of you as she can remember. 

peas, spinach, lentil and cabbage stew, beet salad, goat cheese and roasted carrots, cauliflower mash. fresh bread.

proteins from animals are scarce and are typically served in only the dining hall, so you decided to skip the meat and serve roasted artichoke instead. Joel doesn't look too thrilled about that as Ellie explains. you hide your scoff behind a sip of your dark wine. 

"-and, look, I planted these beets." Ellie points to the bowl on the table which houses arugula and beet salad; you smirk down at the plate as Joel hums as if interested. his eyes flicker to yours from across the table as Ellie delves in on a tangent about how bloody beets look, those dark pupils flickering over your face before flitting back to the young girl. his eyes were swimming with something else, something.... seductive. 

a shiver runs down your spine.

does he ever think about it? 

you do. you think about it every night - how his hands felt, rough, unforgiving; the look on his face, that dark smirk when he'd made you beg for him to ruin you... the frenzy in his eyes when he'd ‘taught you some goddamn manners,’ when he'd taken you apart brutally and quick. Joel was a mean, mean man. and you eat it up like a woman starved for months. 

your name calls you back to Ellie, whose eyes are wide and tracing over a rough, splintered notch in your table, "the hell is this from, is it-" her fingers jolt away at the rugged piece that slides into her skin, "shit!" she yelps, shaking her hand. 

your brows furrow, rising to help her as Joel pulls her hand towards him.  "I have tweezers." you mutter, disappearing into your bathroom to pull out your tweezers, returning to see Ellie smiling in embarrassment and Joel sitting with his arms crossed, amused irritation lacing his face. his beard is growing in more recently - you can hear the noise of the short bristles scratching his hand as he rubs his knuckles over his jawline. 

nodding, pleased that Ellie's discomfort has subsided, you set your tweezers on your right, spearing some salad on your fork as silence cradles you three yet again. 

it’s only tense and silent for a moment. then Ellie speaks, and it’s just tense.

"why is there a notch like that in your table?" she finally wheezes, as if she'd been summoned to be silent until she couldn't handle her curiosity anymore. 

you don't have to look up to know that a pair of dark eyes pin you to your chair, daring you to say something about it. 

your throat dries as you swallow your mouthful of salad, coughing a bit. 

a rip in your flannel, the grazing of your soft skin with the blade. a hand pulling hard to dislodge the knife from its home against you; the thick slide of Joel as he drags his length through your destroyed, spent core. 

"um- I-I" perhaps it's your panic, of the knowledge that his eyes are glued to you, but soon your eyes meet his; unwavering. "well. someone likes to threaten people when they can't find patrol logs." 

"Joel!" Ellie hisses, smacking his arm, "you fucking stabbed her table and didn’t do anything about it?” she’s grinning. 

"yeah, Joel," you smirk, swirling with desire as his hawkish gaze pins you to your chair, "you really should use your manners. you've ruined my table." 

"shut the hell up right now." he snaps at you, hand slamming his fork down harshly onto the plate. you and Ellie both jump at the sternness in his voice. 

you listen, for once. 

and honestly, ten minutes ago feels like heaven compared to the tenseness of this silence. 

several minutes go by, the sounds of scraping forks and knives and the meager attempts by you and Ellie to salvage a decent dinner conversation ringing soft in your kitchen. 

at least you and her are trying. 

you ignore the notch from the knife like a wildfire and pretend Joel isn't even with you; Ellie is more than enough life and laughter for you, and your playful disposition matches hers perfectly despite the joy-damper of a man sat across from you. 

he's stewing. arms crossed, chewing on food here and then, mostly listening and sighing, brushing off Ellie's jabs or playful questions or stories. he won't do anything except eat and glare at you. 

the wine bottle is nearly gone and you're not sure if it's his fault or yours. probably both. 

you snap when he just outright ignores Ellie, shaking his head with a sigh and taking another bite. the audacity. 

"-she asked you a question, Miller." you snap, fed up with his dissociative disposition. you don't even intend to say it; even Ellie looks up at your words, surprised. 

his head turns to face you too slow to be safe. his eyes are fucking furious as he mutters, "excuse me?" 

"hey, guys-" Ellie's hands are out in front of her, but you can't take your eyes off him. 

"I'm just saying, you could at least try to pay attention." you spit, crossing your arms defensively, "we made this dinner, we're just trying to have a conversation, the least you could do-" 

"you don't tell me what to do." he states, calm and cool, pointing at you. his nose flares as he breaths heavy, your own breath quickening. arousal rushes to your center and you shift on your seat. 

"-listen, maybe this was a bad idea. I knew you weren't the best of friends, but this is-" Ellie starts again, eyes flickering between you both. "this is too awkward." 

"no, Ellie, I'm sorry-" you start to say, breaking. 

you don't want her to be caught in the cross-fire of your problems with Joel; it's unfair. the further this goes, the more she'll be put in a position of mediator, so you figure it should just end now. 

"Ellie, go home." 

Joel growls the demand, eyes looking to her, his hand falling gently to her shoulder. her eyes widen, as if asking him if he's serious. 

"what?" she asks, "no! you'll-you’ll fucking stab each other or something." 

yeah, you think. you might. 

Joel's shaken off her shoulder but he's resilient, "go on, go see the kids for the movie. I'll come later. we just need to sort something out." he mutters, eyes falling to you at the tail end of his sentence. 

shivers roll down your spine; fuck, fuck - a flood of arousal hits you again, and you swallow, willing the feelings to go the fuck away. 

Ellie's scowling, but still has the decency to thank you for dinner before slamming the door hard on her way out of the threshold. 

Joel's eyes stay locked with yours until her footsteps are gone. 

it’s silent for a moment before he speaks. 

"do not fuckin' disrespect me like that in front of her again." he snaps. 

you narrow your eyes, "you're concerned that I- what, I undermined you in front of your girl?" you hiss incredulously. "come on, that's pathetic." 

"I don't like you." he snaps, shoving his plate away from him in an almost childish act of defiance. it’s shocking, the immaturity of his words so sudden. barely prompted. 

it's clear he intends to continue this little confessional of his, but you have no intention of allowing that. 

you roll your eyes, "big fucking deal. what do you want me to say?" you hiss, "sorry that I was rude, Mr. Miller! let me just cook you fucking dinner and invite you over to make up for it." 

his nostrils flare, "never wanted to do this in the first place." he mutters. 

you nearly rip out your hair in frustration. "obviously you didn't! christ, why do you always act like everything you do is a goddamn chore?" you snap, "Ellie wanted to have a nice night and show you what we've been doing- what she's been doing for this community. and all you can do is sit here and act like a fucking asshole because you don't know how to enjoy anything. it's a miracle she's still around with you, when you treat her like that." 

his jaw clicks in anger, "you have no fuckin' clue what we've been through together." his voice is close to a yell, "you don't know how much that girl means to me." 

"then why won't you show her!?" you yell. 

it quiets the room for a moment and a fleeting feeling of pride is squashed when he speaks again. 

his brows raise, a look of realization creeping onto his face. he nods his head, "I see what this is," he lets out a bitter, mocking laugh. "you want me to tell you how much I love your food? y'trying to prove to me that you're not a bad influence on her, after all?" 

you stare at him, anger clouding your sight; are there tears of frustration rimming your eyes? you hope he doesn't notice. 

"-newsflash, darlin', I don't fucking care about you." he finishes, scowl dark. "you're a nuisance. don' know why Tommy took you in, anyways. you're a foul-mouthed, untrustworthy, pathetic little slut- and jus' because you can't stop thinking about my cock doesn't mean I owe anything to you. no dinner, no fuckin- cordial neighborly attitude, nothing." 

thinking about- what?

oh, fuck him. your face burns; your jaw unhinges. of course he thinks this is about you and him. your eyes spare a quick, fleeting glance to the notch in the table before you glare, "well I don't fucking care about you either, Miller. don't be so fucking conceited." 

he laughs, shaking his head as he downs the remainder of his wine before slamming the glass down, but you're not finished. you can't let him think he's won. 

"you’re delusional. I haven't thought of it once." you spit, aflame at his accusation. you feel flustered, still caught off-guard. if anything, it was him who was obsessed with it - you see the way his eyes can't leave you; the way he adjusted his jeans earlier when you leaned over to pull a bowl from your cabinet. 

"really?" he spits, brows raised. his chest moves with the exertion of your yelling and you resist the urge to hit him or stomp your foot or anything. "yes, really." you defend, face heating up under the scrutiny of his knowing gaze. 

"anyone ever tell you you're an awful liar, sweetheart?" he drawls, raising his brows at you. 

you fume, standing up, pointing to the door, "get the fuck out, Joel." 

his eyes light ablaze with the same anger that rages in your heart as he stands, throwing his napkin on his plate, "gladly. food was great." he spits, storming out of the house with no other words. 

-- 

your scowl doesn't leave your face for the entire rest of the night. what- what the fuck was that? how dare Joel assume so much about you- he doesn't know you, at all. 

your eyes fall to the bottle in your hands.

ellie left her water canteen at your place. you were so angry, so mad earlier, that you hadn’t realized she’d left it until a few minutes ago. 

she doesn't need it, right? she could get it next time she comes round. yeah. she'll get it next time, you don't have to go over. right?

no. 

you have to go over. 

the anger within you festers just as much as the slick that plagues the apex of your thighs in the aftermath of your spat with Joel; it's a vicious cycle where you think about his tone, how condescending it was and then you get mad - but some sick part of you wants it to consume you; wants him to consume you. 

you’re fucking obsessed with him. you hate him. 

you need to hear him yell at you again- if-if anything, to get your ten cents in on the argument, and also maybe to get some good content for your wet dreams tonight. jesus christ. 

god, you're so fucked up. 

christ. 

so once you finish cleaning from the remnants of the meal, your legs are carrying you over to his house with Ellie's canteen in your hand before you can second-guess it. 

what the fuck are you doing? 

you're standing on their porch in mere seconds, your breath heavy with wrath. what if Ellie opens the door? well- you suppose, if she does, you'll give her the canteen and talk to her. probably apologize for acting the way you did. no business with Joel, then. yeah.  that’s... that’s fine. 

fuck. why do you want Joel to answer so terribly? 

you know where the answer lies - a coiling beast of arousal, consuming and muddling your mind, just at the apex of your thighs. 

Joel is a fucking asshole. you need him. now. 

your knuckles slam so hard and unforgiving against their door that there is no possibility of them assuming it's anybody else but you at their porch. their light is flickering and dim above you as you stand, canteen in hand, eyes trained forward in determination.  

the door swings open in an air of irritation. 

your face jerks back as Joel Miller stands, staring at you with the disdain of a thousand lifetimes swirling around his eyes. 

"y'here for more?" he snarks. 

your momentary hesitation melts away when his words drip from his lips. a glare pierces him through the eyes when you shove the canteen into his hands, "I'm here for Ellie. she left this." you spit. 

he lets out a chuckle, humor absent from the ring as he scratches his nose, "right." he mutters. "well she ain't home. went to the movie in town." he clips, setting the canteen on the table just inside the house. "y'need me to pass any more of your words of wisdom on to her?" he asks, voice clipped and prickled with sarcasm. 

you glare. "yeah. just do me a favor, tell her I'm sorry her dad is being a hypocritical, neglecting asshole." you snark, sending a false smile up at him as he leans with his arms crossed at the doorway.

you don't miss how he leans into it, how he's not slamming the door on your face. he wants to argue, too. "-and you can suck a dick, Mr. Miller." you add, intending to whirl away on your heel. 

he scoffs, a deep and condescending noise. "thanks for comin' all the way over to return a little canteen. g'night, darlin', hope you don't make too much'a mess when you cum all over that table again tonight thinkin' of how much I hate you. glad y'got your ten cents in." 

your face burns hot in embarrassment, and at the irony of him using the same phrase you’d thought. 

the door moves quick to shut, but your arm moves quicker. 

your hand wedges is just before it shuts, leaving you far too close to Joel than you'd like - gunpowder, pine, and dark amber whiskey surround your senses. again. 

so you shoot another fist forward, aiming for his left jaw; aiming for it to hurt.

he’s going to fucking hurt.  

it doesn't make contact with the warm skin, though: no, his hand has caught your wrist in an iron-tight grip, wrenching your arm down hard. 

you let out a gasp of surprise as he shoves you off of the door and away from him before you can blink. 

but instead of the door slamming in your face, his rough hands are pushing you hard up against the side of his garage. the door behind him remains ajar as he pushes himself into your space, growling at you as your mouth falls open in shock. 

"did you just try to hit me, girl?" he whispers, voice deadly serious. you swallow, arousal rushing down to your heat; you swear you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he stares hard at you, but your eyes trail down to his jeans.

you hide your smirk as you take in the stretch of the rough denim, the outline of his own arousal evident even in the dim light. he’s hard because you were going to hit him. 

your body aches as you remember the stretch of him inside you, splitting you open. your eyes flicker back up to his where he breathes heavily, expecting a response. 

you give him one. 

"yes, but you already knew that." you smirk, cocking your head as you boldly gyrate your hips forward slightly, your clothed cunt clenching in desire as you graze his hard-on. "or are you not hard right now, Mr. Miller?" you purr, your voice laced with seduction. 

his rough hand shoves your hips hard back against the wall, a growl slipping his throat. "y'got a dirty fuckin' mouth on you." his breath hits your cheeks in a warm reminder of the wine you'd both had for dinner. 

"so it wasn't because of that?" you ask, blinking in a false sense of innocence, watching as his eyes swim with an animalistic hunger. you've got him right where you want him. "was it from thinking about me touching myself? or, from remembering the last time we were together in my house?" 

his momentary lapse in recovery allows for you to go in for the final kill, "Mr. Miller,” you coo, “do you think of my pussy when you fuck Dahlia? d'you wish it was me?" you spit, smirking up at him as red splatters his furious features, "you can talk all you want, Mr. Miller, but I know you're just a greedy, desperate man who loves to pretend you have any power over me." you whisper into the shell of his ear, palm roughly grabbing the outline of his cock boldly. 

his next movements take your breath away: the shock of his fists slamming hard against the wall on either side of your head makes you jump, and his hawkish, angry eyes bore into yours. 

"get your fuckin' hands off of me. now." 

his voice is... scary. 

the blood leaves your head as your damp spot of your pants floods with desire, the fear spiking a real excitement in you. you are smart enough to follow his orders; the look in his eyes suggests you do so. 

your hands shakily fly back from his crotch to hang by your sides as you stare up at him - nervous. excited, ready. 

his eyes are narrowed, stern as his brows are furrowed low. the permanent scowl on his lips is intimidating as he holds your gaze with fierce intent. "you're gonna be real fuckin' honest with me, now. okay?" 

you swallow dryly, staring up at his face, how he's boxed you in with arms on either side of your head. you feel cornered, small; prey, hunted by predator. 

you nod smally, startled into silence, unable to speak as the ache between your legs becomes unbearable. your legs clench, searching for relief only to be disappointed at the dull sensation. 

he stares at you for a few moments, unmoving except for the flaring of his nostrils and the rising of his chest as he breathes just as heavy as you. 

"are you wet?" 

your face flushes with heat. christ, Joel is going to kill you. (if you don't kill him first). your legs feel weak, desire driving your heart rate up as you nod meekly, voice cracking out. "y-yes." 

he nods, seemingly pleased with your honesty. 

"how long have you been walkin' round with ruined panties?" his head tilts down slightly, angled down at you as if chastising you. you flush in shame, genuinely taking a moment to remember the exact moment you first noticed your underwear dampen. 

you can't admit to him that you woke up this morning with his name on your lips and a wet patch on the seat of your sleep shorts, can you? (and certainly not that it happens every day.) 

"s-since-" you take a sharp inhale, glaring at him for humiliating you like this - outside, no less. anybody could walk past or look out their window and see Joel and you like this. "dinner." 

his brows raise, the look darkening on his face. you can tell, he loves the beginning - the teasing, the arguing, the embarrassment - just as much as the end. "dinner? s'like, two hours." his frown immodest, tempting. judging. 

you nod, biting back a snide comment about Joel being an excellent time-teller, your face burning in embarrassment as you break eye contact, staring at your feet. 

"d’you like being a slut?" he asks, then. you nearly whimper at his words, the aching in your cunt burning, pulsing and clenching around nothing as you stare at him in desire. fuck Joel Miller. 

"'m not a slut." you say, but the defiant words come out more as a whine than a sharp argument. one hand falls from the wall on your left to grip onto your jaw, holding your cheeks hard as he forces your eyes back up to him. 

his nails dig into the soft flesh of your cheeks as you gasp, your own hands in fists as you resist pulling him into you. 

"that's not what I fuckin' asked, now, is it?" he sneers. you blink up at him, shaking your head after a moment of contemplation. "no, sir." you whisper meekly. you don't miss the tightening of his grip at the honorific as it falls sultry from your lips. he hums. 

"do you want me to touch you?" he asks next. you can't even have the decency to stop your whine as you nod, "yes, please." 

his other hand falls from the wall, eyes just as angry and unforgiving as he undoes the button on your shorts single-handedly. "good. don't you fuckin' look away from my eyes, y'hear me? hands down, eyes up." 

this is twice now that he hasn't let you touch him - your brows furrow, but just as he snaps in front of your face, you let the thought melt away. 

"y-yes, sir." you nod, your palms sweaty, heart thundering as he shoves his hand down the front of your shorts, breaching your underwear easily as fingers slide through the deft curls that lie just above your heat. 

"gotta warm y'up for me this time," he mutters, eyes sharp as he watches yours, ensuring they don't do as much as blink. 

it's delicious, almost too much as two of his thick fingers part the seam of your lips, your wetness spilling and coating his fingers immediately. you burn in shame, thighs starting to close over his hand. 

one ruddy, thick thigh slides to kick your leg to the side, widening your stance as he shoves you harder up against the side of the house. the tip of his finger prods at your aching hole, leaking with desperation for him. 

there are crickets outside, a steady but low staccato of music filling the summer Jackson air as one finger slowly slides into you, curling unforgivingly as you gasp, rising on your toes as he stretches you. "fuck," you whimper, throwing your head back against the wall behind you. 

the thud is dull, but it echoes around the street and it calls your attention to the very public space you're in. 

"hey." Joel snaps, one hand swatting your cheek lightly as your eyes close, "don't look away." 

you blink back at him as he pumps lazily for a few moments, watching your every micro-expression, the way your chest stutters with his motions. the noise of your arousal is humiliating against the pleasant summer breeze. 

you can't help the low moan of his name when he adds a second finger. the stretch is nothing like when it's his cock inside of you, but the strokes, the curl of his fingers start to coax a simmering coil in you that you know will explode soon. 

your eyes are still on his obediently when you nearly whisper it. 

he hears it, though, and smirks, "what was that, darlin’?" 

you groan in irritation but it splinters into a sharp moan when his fingers pick up their pace, fucking into you as you lie slack against the wall, legs trembling. 

"just- fuck me. fuck me now." you wheeze, the desire a burning snake that coils around your chest and squeezes at your heart. 

"no." he decides, eyes glaring, "can't have y'whining like a bitch again, darlin'. gotta open you up on my fingers first." the sting of his words are cushioned by the lust that swirls around his voice, the languid was his thick fingers pump up into you, holding you up against the frame of the house with a dark smirk. 

you nod, hissing in stimulation when one finger slides to start rubbing your neglected clit with just enough pressure to curl your toes; your chest is slick with sweat, fingernails digging painfully into the meat of your palm as you hum, lips sealed tight to avoid yelping out. 

your eyes flicker from his once more, scanning the street just feet away from you, paranoid of the possibility of a neighbor seeing you. 

Joel notices, of course. "what, baby, don' want the neighbors to see?" he hums, eyes cutting into you as your face flushes with heat, "y'seemed to want everybody to hear me fucking you stupid last time, didn't 'ya?" 

you groan, "fuck you, Joel." 

his hand stops its ministrations just as cold ice pours down your spine. oh, shit. 

his hand slides out of your pants, face furious. 

you shake your head, eyes welling with tears; you hadn't meant for it to slip out like that. "n-no, wait, 'm sorry, didn't mean it." you whimper, voice choked with the loss of his hand. 

he just huffs a cold chuckle, wiping his hand over his face, the other one glistening with your juices under the light of the porch. 

your panicked, desperate babble of apologies is stopped with one look from him. 

"get on your goddamn knees now." 

you shiver with excitement, tears drying slightly as you swallow, complying quickly. the cement is rough and cold under your bare knees, your hands held still together on your thighs as you stare up at him in wait. he stands tall before you; the shroud of the flickering porch light emboldening him, making him look like a god - an unforgiving one, at that - as he pulls his thick, pulsing cock from his jeans. 

your mouth waters as he starts to pump it languidly, the tip a red color from arousal, leaking precum. 

he doesn’t have to ask you to open your mouth for him, your own desire to taste him spurring you to stick your tongue out flat in wait for his dick. 

"I'm going to ask you again." he says, tapping your tongue with the weight of his length, the slapping noise flooding your underwear as you ache to feel him again. "do you like being a slut?" 

you swallow, tongue sliding along the bottom of his head as you do, muttering a slight, "yes, sir." 

"'s right. you love being my slut." he nods, your mouth open and ready for him as he thrusts his whole length into your wet, warm mouth; you gag almost immediately, his hips unforgiving as he immediately starts to fuck into your throat. you try your best to breathe through your nose, gagging as his tip pokes the back of your throat - you know there'll be a bruise that will make it painful to eat, drink, speak - you fucking love it. 

he lets out a grunt of arousal, nodding as his hands gather your hair from your face, gripping your cheeks and pushing your head back against the side of the house. 

two thrusts, a few tears from your eyes as you choke, your lungs burning for air. 

he pulls away, you suck in air with a strangled gasp. your saliva links you to his heavy cock, a chain that holds you in his grasp. "tell me you love being my slut." 

you burn at his words and in your brief hesitation, his cock is slapping at your mouth, his impatience bleeding through his actions. 

"I-" your voice is wrecked after only a few seconds of him in your mouth, but you swallow as you gasp for air, "I l-love being your slut." 

he slides himself through your slick lips again, hips a punishing pace as he fills up your mouth, your throat tight and wet. his groan echoes through the street; in the corner of your eye, you swear you see a light turn on in a bedroom window. shivers of desire run through you as you resist the urge to touch yourself. 

you can't breathe; your nose brushes against the course hair at the base of his shaft, the scent of him surrounding you as his hips try to smash you against the side of the house. 

he holds you there, hands rough on your cheeks, slapping your right cheek as it bulges with his length. you choke, gagging as you try your hardest to keep eye contact. his face is harsh, his sneer cold as he stares at you, "'s right, choke on your fuckin' words, darlin'." his hips press forward slightly and you cough around him, it's too much - tears slide down your cheeks as you try not to gag more. 

"you gonna disrespect me again?" he asks, tilting his head as spit trails down your chin, tears meeting the trail of saliva as it drips down onto your chest. 

you can only hum a nuh-uh around his cock, hoping it's enough to satisfy him. you feel yourself throb and fucking burn with need, your knees sore from the cement under you. 

you cough and sputter when he pulls himself away from you, mouth sore, jaw aching and throat wrecked. his eyes flicker over to the house across the street before he grips your shoulder, tugging you in your aroused, dazed state up to your legs. 

"oh, darlin', you're bleedin'." he coos at you, thumb swiping your cheek as you stand up. he's right: your knees are just scratched enough to speckle the skin with dark splotches of blood. you feel a tingling sensation of arousal as he hums, "let's get you inside, hm?" 

you stumble to keep up as he storms through the threshold of the house, the door swinging shut after your shaking frame falls inside. it's dark; there is only one lamp turned on in the other room. 

Joel is almost a shadow as he surrounds you, your hands falling onto his large, stiff shoulders as he pushes you against the door frame. 

your legs give out from desire soon and the two of you tumble to the ground, a mess of grunts and shoves, tearing at clothes as you whimper in desire, his own lustful groans echoing the empty house. as his pants are shucked off and your shorts are thrown across the room, your hips are shoved and flipped over until you're ass-up for him, one of his large hands moving roughly to grab a handful of your plush behind. 

your hands and knees ache, but you wiggle your ass slightly in need, not daring to speak to him. the anger that radiates from the two of you is a grenade; you can feel the tension bubbling behind your desire and so you just move back until you brush against his hard length, the fabric of your panties completely soaked as you grind against him. 

his moan echoes as a hand falls hard to slap against the skin of your ass. you let out a strangled yell, the pain stinging through you as you keen forward. you know there will be a handprint branded into you, you know it'll be sore to sit and you'll have to think of him each time. he'll consume you for days. 

you love it. 

his fingers tease the wet material that's glued to your pussy with desire, tracing over your lips lightly over the fabric. "pretty cunt, just for me." he mutters; you shake with desire when you realize it was more a mutter for him than an intentional phrase for you to hear.

"think you're ready for me, baby?" he grunts, his fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing your puffy, glistening cunt to him. 

"I'm so re-ready sir, please, fuck me." you beg, reduced yet again to nothing but a writhing mess for the worst man you know. 

he gives no warning, no teasing - he breaches you swiftly and rough. you scream. 

it cracks, it echoes, it's painful as you yell out, his cock heavy and huge and aching as he slides into you, sheathing you fully within a few seconds. Joel's moan reverberates on your skin as his hands grip so hard at your ass you think his fingers will remain there for days. 

he immediately sets a pace that has you squirming under him, breath choking up in your chest as you slide against the hardwood. the smell of the house is Joel - sandalwood, whiskey, pine. sex. 

your arms are tugged roughly. 

panic rises in you when you think you're about to slam your face against the floor, but as Joel pounds hard into you, he pulls your hands tight to your back, holding you up to you're suspended with just his cock working you open can keep you from falling. 

it's bliss. it's sharp, this angle; he hits into that spongy spot inside you as his cock drags against your pulsing walls, your hands clenching as your breath leaves you. 

one hand sneaks over your front, grasping at your tits as he reaches up into you deeply. then it snakes lower, rocking you forward as he swats at your clit, the sharp smack of his palm causing you to squeeeeeze around him, trapping him in your aching desire. he lets out a grunt, "fuckin'- jesus christ, girl, you're s-so tight."

the noises of your arousal swallowing his dick echo around the room in a sickening chorus. 

"dumb girl, lovin' it when I yell at her," he mutters to himself, chasing your high as he feels it spasming close around him. "gonna be o-obedient and thank me for each orgasm, 'kay?" his accent is thick in the throes of passion, you notice. 

you nod, unable to speak, unable to think as you feel the crest of something incredibly blissful; you let out a wheeze of ecstasy. "y-yes, s-sir," you choke, your voice croaking from the remnants of his dick wrecking you. 

you barely realize you're cumming until you’re screaming, a white-hot, searing arousal streaking your vision. tears are resurfacing on your eyes as he hums, "say it." 

you swallow, shakily squirming as he pounds into you, unforgiving in tone and pace. "than-thank you." 

it only takes a few more minutes and his thick hand squeezing your throat before you cum for a second time, your hands pulling at his hips, trying to escape the overstimulation of his long, dragging thrusts. the floor is slick with your juices, and so is his pubic bone. 

"thank you, s-sir." you slur out, his hand holding you by the throat against his chest, his heartbeat slamming just as fast as yours. 

soon he drops your arms, their shaky muscles barely stopping you as you fall to the floor. his chest follows you until he's smothering you, thrusts becoming weak with his own nearing orgasm. you cry, the overstimulation causing you to shake. "'s too much, too much." 

he hums, "you want me to stop?" 

"no!" you scream it, wail it; no, christ, don't stop. never stop. 

he chuckles; a dark, brooding noise. "an' you wonder why I think you're such a bad influence." he mutters into the shell of your ear as he pushes further, deeper into you; "lettin' an old man fuck you into the floor. lovin' it." 

he chuckles as you let out a whine, eyes screwing shut at the bursts of pleasure coursing through you. your knees ache.

"'s dirty, isn't it? and you love it, pretty girl." 

you let your cheek drop onto the hardwood at his ministrations, spent from your previous orgasms; the pet name makes you flush, arching your hips back. he's so deep, you feel him in your throat. each thrust pushes his tip into your cervix, a dull ache with a swirl of pleasure and ecstasy. you let out a groan, "love it, love it s'much. love it, sir, thank you." you whimper, your brain empty except for Joel Joel JoelJoel-

"good m-manners, sweet girl." he hums, pressing a hot kiss to your spine. goosebumps form in his wake, his words echoing in your brain. sweet girl. 

"you're gonna cum one more time." he orders, the thrusts of his hips grinding you down, melting you, tearing you. you nod, "yes, yes-yes, fuck, gonna-gonna cum again." you whimper, the painful overstimulation of his cock drilling through your spent, swollen folds. 

your third orgasm has you wailing, shaking your head as you convulse in pleasure, his strong grip holding your hips down as he hits your spot repeatedly, the noise of him fucking into you echoing through the foyer. 

there's tears on the floor as you shake, colors exploding behind your eyes as he whispers things you cannot hear into your ear. 

when you come to, he's still ravaging your body. 

you're limp, ecstasy flowing through your very being as his cock spears through you, hands smacking you, gripping you, grunts leaving his mouth as he nears his own orgasm, having pulled three from you. 

"where are your manners?" he whispers into your ear. you let out a broken half-laugh, half-gasp. "fuck- thank you, Joel, thank you." 

he hums in satisfaction and you swear you feel his cock twitch inside you as you utter his first name. 

he's back in your ear in seconds, surrounding you, swallowing you whole. you love it. 

"this is my pussy. mine." he grunts, "never think 'bout any other pussy. jus' this one. always." his voice is laced with desperation as he swats your ass, thrusting into you a few more times as you squirm, sobbing, throat raw. 

yours, you whimper in a chorus, body limp as he uses you; his thrusts are sloppy. he's so close- 

and he cums just as he's pulling out of you; you gasp at the loss but also as his cum shoots hot spurts across the plush curve of your ass, a bit onto your spine - most of it over your ruined pussy, streaking you in white. 

you pulse around nothing, shaking as your legs give out. he groans a deep thing, fingers falling to spread you open, the lewd noise soft and slick.

you jolt and he shushes you with a soft caress of your back. "jus' wanna see it, baby. wanna see how I ruined you." 

you swallow dryly at that, nodding as you tilt your hips, eager to feel his eyes over you, over all of you; eager for him. 

a finger smears his spend over your juices, pressing lightly at your puckered hole, pushing some of his cum back into you. "fuckin' christ, girl." 

you set out a laugh that turns into a cough of pain at the ragged state of your throat. 

he stands and leaves you on the cold floor, covered in sweat. you try not to let your heart deflate when he’s gone. 

but he returns with a rag and hands it to you before shucking his jeans on; you pull your underwear back on with shaky hands once you’ve wiped yourself clean, your body exhausted. 

you sigh. even the thought of making the trek just a few houses down to your own place is daunting as your eyes flutter. something in his eyes glint in understanding when your gazes meet each other, and he seems to get it. 

so if Joel gathers you in his arms with a grunt and a short complaint, you don't think too much about it. 

(you hate him. he hates you.)

and if he holds your head to his chest as he starts the walk back to your house, it’s not a big deal to you. 

when brings you up into your bedroom instead of leaving you at your front door as he finally carries you to your house, you chalk it up to you being nearly asleep. you must be delirious when he tucks you into your mattress and pulls your blankets up. you swear he mutters something about dinner and nice and good job. 

(what a cocky asshole.) 

it's probably a dream, when a hand caresses the sweaty skin of your forehead, brushing hair away gently before footsteps disappear through the doorway. 

. part three .

requests open

. 

#joel miller smut #joel x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tlou spoilers #tlou fanfiction #the last of us (hbo) #the last of us (tv)

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 27 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

Warning: Soft Doms Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie & Sub Fem Plus Size Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk, a bit softer than the norm with these two but she's preggo so lol FLUFF, they love her and the little one. We find out the gender and get a name for da baby.

ANGST, Steve's dad makes an asshole cameo, the three of them confront the other parents to tell them reader is pregnant. Those are the biggies. Not my normal level of angst :)

Word Count: 4696

Series here/ Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

“Hey guys. Thank you for coming and please have a seat.”, Steve instructs your parents as he gestures towards the couch where Wayne was already waiting. 

“Okay…is everything alright?”, your mother asks in a worried tone.

“Yeah, everything’s ok, Mrs. Y/L/N.”, Eddie answers as he sits in one of the chairs they placed on either side of yours. 

The three of you came up with a game plan since the last time all the parents were addressed it didn’t end well. You were going to do the bulk of the speaking when it came to your parents but if they addressed one of the boys or reacted as they had before, Eddie and Steve would take over to promptly end the conversation. They weren’t going to allow you to be hurt again especially after your hospital visit. 

Now they had two lives they needed to look after and protect.

Once your mom and dad were seated, you smiled as you handed your mom a little envelope and back away to take a seat near your protectors. 

No one says a word as she opens the paper and pulls out its contents. Your eyes close as you physically prepare for the fallout and you hear your mother heavily exhale.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“H-How? I don’t…I thought you were on the pill? At least…I mean…you told me you were.”

Your father cringes at your mom’s words as he continues to process what he’s hearing.

“I am…was…Before we went to Italy, we had an incident where they needed to switch the birth control. The nurse told us to wait a week but my doctor said that was wrong.”

“What?!”, your mother and Wayne exclaimed at the same time causing you to recoil a bit. 

Steve petted your head to calm you, assuring you everything was still alright.

“That’s more than just being wrong, sweetheart. Jesus, what is your doctor doing? Did she fire that nurse?”, Eddie’s uncle asked with what you could immediately tell was genuine concern.

“She said she was going to talk to her—”

“She needs to more than that! I’ll go down there and talk to them myself—”

As you folded more into yourself, Eddie glanced at Steve ready to jump in; the other boy agreeing.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, please, with all due respect we need everyone here to be calm—”

“And how do we do that, Steven?”, your father asked sharply. “This is a pretty big fucking deal.”

“Well, you better fucking figure it out because we’ve already had one scare that put her in the hospital and it won’t happen again!”, Eddie growled. 

“What?! I don’t…what happened…why didn’t anyone call us!? Edward, she’s our daughter!”

“And she’s our wife!” Everyone became silent at the metalhead’s outburst as he blinked realizing what he said. “Girlfriend…she’s our girlfriend…That we have never abandoned but you have. WE needed to make sure she was safe first.”

“Is the baby ok?”, Wayne asked, breathing a sigh of relief when you nodded. 

“She panicked and, again, for fear of how people would react tried to break up with us. She was so stressed…she was in pain…”, Steve relays as his jaw tightens hating the memory. 

“So, I’m assuming because this was an accident you don’t know who’s the father?”, your dad asked as he stood up and began pacing. 

“Please don’t call my baby an accident.”, you whimper. 

“He’s OURS and we love him.”, Eddie announced making you smile softly. 

“Could they get a sex?”

“Oh, no, Wayne, it’s still too early. I’d call that parent’s intuition.”, you mom responds flashing a grin his way. 

“Ok, Bev, I’m trying really hard but I need to be the reality check here. She just graduated college, Steve works at a video store, Eddie works at a record store. How are they going to take care of a child?”

“Mr. C offered to let me continue interning for him and then next school year I could teach if the principal still wants to hire me.”

“Robin and I have a plan together for the non-profit. We actually have meetings with investors within these next couple of months.”

“That’s amazing, Steve.”, Eddie’s uncle praises making the boy smile in appreciation. “And you, Ed? Last I spoke with you, you were working to get recording time.”

“Yeah, the guys and I have a lot of money saved. We’re hoping within the next month we can get something out. Funds have slowed a bit since I started putting money aside for Y/N.”

“What about the birth certificate? You both can’t put your names on there.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh, Steven? Have you already crossed the bridge of your feelings about how this child is going to have one of your genes? How it might cause animosity that this kid looks a bit more like one man than the other?  How it could drive you crazy to NOT know.”

Eddie steps forward squaring his shoulder as he comes toe to toe with your father. 

“That’s OUR kid. I don’t care if he’s biologically mine or Steve’s. As long as he’s happy and healthy…as long as he knows BOTH his father’s love him…no matter what. I don’t fucking care.”

The other man places his palm on his friend’s chest to calm him, pushing him back towards you. 

“Are you going to tell Bill?”, your mom inquires. “With the way he reacted about Y/N, I’m sure he’ll take this well.”, she says sarcastically. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything. They haven’t been in my life for over 4 years.”

“I know, baby, but you should give them the chance. At least your mom…”

“I’d go with you but your dad placed a restraining order on me.”, your father sighs as he places his hands on his hips. “Don’t laugh at me, Beverly.”

“I can’t help it, Robert.”

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice cuts through the room as both boys back up so you can see your parents. 

“No, honey. We aren’t mad. We’re just concerned but like Mr. Munson here we want our daughter to be happy and healthy.”, your mother coos as she gets up to hug you tightly to her. 

############

“Ok, so tell me again what else you need?”, Masie asks as you two browse the baby section of the store you two were walking around. 

“The most expensive thing we need is a crib. Besides that, um, a stroller, a car seat…my mom said we can’t have enough bottles.”, you giggle. “I was thinking for the baby’s room, maybe, we could do like a Wizard of Oz thing. Wayne told me a story about how that book always comforted Eddie.”

“I can do that. Did they have a preference or…”

“No, they said I should just do whatever I wanted.”, you giggle. 

It had been a couple of months since you guys talked to your parents and the reality of everything was beginning to set in. The first time you felt him move you cried for an hour scaring the boys to death. 

“Is…is this normal?”, Steve asked as he petted your head. 

“Yeah, I’m just so happy. We’re having a baby.”, you sob.

“Oh, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he pulls you to his chest. 

“What do you think, little dude? Do you want bottles with lions or elephants?”, Masie inquires as she leans down to speak directly to your tummy making you laugh harder. “Both? Sounds good.”

“Maze—”

“Nope. I won’t hear it. I’m buying these for my new little best friend.”

“Your nephew.”, you correct. Your best friend pauses as she straightens up and her eyes meet your own. “Masie, you’ve been with me since kindergarten and through all of my chaos. You’re my sister and I love you.”

She wraps her arms around your neck, kissing your cheek when she finally pulls away. 

The sudden sound of glass breaking catches your attention as you both turn towards the noise coming face to face with Mrs. Harrington’s wide-eyed expression. Without addressing you, she abruptly swivels around, dropping everything in her hands as she powerwalks out of the store.

***

Steve was already pacing in the living room mentally preparing himself when the sound of loud banging on the front door echoed through the house. 

After kissing his lips, you and Eddie backed away to allow him to take control as he casually began opening the door to his home. Before he could do anything about it, his father burst through uninvited, huffing as his wild eyes landed on you.

“How dare you, you little whore!”

As he began charging your way, the metalhead pushed you behind him as Steve slid between him and his father to cut him off. 

“No. If you want to talk we can talk but you will NOT speak to her like that.”

“I’ll speak to her any way I see fit! I’ve put up with this farse long enough, Steven. This is not a relationship, you three aren’t married, and that bastard doesn’t belong to you both!”

Before anyone could do anything about it, the younger Harrington’s fist flew knocking his father to the floor. 

“Eddie…”, you whispered in fear, gripping his arm. 

He could feel the worry you had for them practically radiating from you and his protective mode instantly kicked in. 

“Don’t move.”, he commanded, stepping forward to place himself beside his friend. “Get out.”, Eddie growled as he yanked Mr. Harrington to his feet and shoved him towards the door. 

“You’re done, son. I’m cutting you off. No more installments into your account, no more inheritance from me or your mother. Nothing, do you hear me, NOTHING will go to that thing. I don’t care if it is biologically yours.”

“Fine. I don’t need anything from you, Bill. You both weren’t there for the worst moment in my life. What makes you think I’d want you there for the best? I can’t wait to be father so I can be nothing like you. Now…GET…OUT!”

As soon as his father left, you wrapped your arms around Steve’s waist and clung to him as his arms remained at his sides. 

“Are you alright, man?”, Eddie asked as he came up beside you both. 

You could feel it coming off his agitated frame as your cheek rose and fell with each heavy breath of his chest. He was furious. 

He was angry that his father was despicable and continued to hurt him even now. He was pissed that anyone, let alone his own blood called his baby that he already loved so much a ‘bastard’ and a ‘thing’. Steve felt betrayed by his mother who immediately ran to her husband knowing how he’d react without coming to speak with him herself. He wanted to kill him for disrespecting you and even THINKING he could charge at you to lay his hands on you. 

But more than anything, he was hurt that both his parents still didn’t seem to give a damn about him or his happiness. 

Tilting back, your palms cup his face as he continues to look past you into the void.

“Daddy, baby, look at me.”

It took him a few seconds and some more soft murmurs before his eyes glassy eyes met yours.

“I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve the bullshit he puts you through. I know you’re a good man and I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing father.” When his forehead presses against yours, you feel his breathing begin to calm. “It’s ok, honey. You can still use me.”

Glancing towards Eddie, he waits for his friend to give him a nod letting him know he thought it would be ok. You three were still intimate but it was much softer than before. They didn’t want to trigger another episode or hurt you too much even after getting the ok from your doctor. 

Since that point a lot had happened and all of you were just genuinely too exhausted to do anything more than cuddle. 

Lifting you into his arms, Steve carried you to the bedroom and laid you on your back horizontally across the mattress. After tearing away your clothes, he opened your legs wide and spit into your cunt before falling onto his side next to you and sliding his arm under your head for you to use as a pillow. On impulse you raised one of your legs in the air and his heavy breathing warmed your cheek as he guided his cock inside of you. 

As his fingers dug into your thigh, he set a rough pace as he absorbed the feeling of being inside you like this again. Glancing to your other side, you watched as Eddie came around the bed and knelt down by your head. Your fingers reached for him but he shook his head as he tenderly took hold of both sides of yours and turned it till you were facing the other man. 

“He needs you right now, sweetheart.”, he whispered in your ear as he gently played with your hair that hung over the end of the mattress. 

“Mmm—feels so good, Sir.”

“Yeah, baby? You’re going to cum already? It’s been a while since we’ve been able to take care of you, huh.”

Steve abruptly pulls out of you and shuffles around till you feel his tongue rapidly flick your clit as two of his fingers thrust in and out of your core.

“Fuck! Daddy, please.”

Placing your hand on the back of his head, you hold him to you as your back arches off the bed and you cum, groaning as he drank you in. 

“Color, baby?”

“Green, Sir…Fuck…”

After taping your pussy with his length and making you twitch at the feeling, he slides himself inside of you again, stretching your leg up his chest so he could cling to your thigh for leverage as he pounded into you. 

Eddie continued to gently kiss your forehead, cheek, or any other part of your skin he could reach with his lips. 

“Right there, Daddy. Just like that. Fuck, I love you so much.”

 Steve’s pace suddenly slowed and your eyes locked as he blinked as if coming back into the moment. Dropping your leg to the side, you promptly wrapped it around his waist as he leaned down till his head was by your ear. 

“I’m not…too heavy…am I?”, he panted.

“No, Daddy. You feel perfect against me.”

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so s-sorry for how my family treats you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Threading your fingers in his hair, you held him as tightly as you could as you rolled your hips underneath him encouraging him to continue. 

“It’s ok, Steve. All—All I care about is how they make you feel. I’m sorry—fuck—I’m sorry they can’t see what an amazing man you are.” Finding his rhythm again, the bed began to subtly shake as his cock abused your g-spot. “Oh my god. Just like that, Daddy.”

With Eddie having long moved out of the way, Steve’s palm clung to the sheets next to your head as he groans. 

“Fuck, baby. You wanna cum with Daddy?”

Nodding your head, your nails drag down his back as your pussy quivers around him and the coil snaps. Grunting at the feeling, he slowed his movements but not his intensity as he slammed his seed inside of your cunt. 

“Good girl. Shit, you feel so good. Do…Do you need anything?”

“Water.”

“10 steps ahead of you, sweetheart. Here, sit up and drink this.”, Eddie instructs as he hands you a glass that you knock back. “Whoa, whoa. Babe, you’re going to throw up. Slow down.”

“Thirsty.”

“Jesus, Steven. Fucking fucked the vocabulary out of our girl here.”

You and Steve giggle as he takes your cup and leaves to get you more. 

“Can we take a bath? I’m a little sore.”

“Yeah, honey, of course.”

Carefully guiding you out of bed, the former jock fills the tub with warm water as the metalhead comes back with more for you to drink. 

“Slow, baby. Good girl.”

As soon as everything is ready and the bathroom is smelling like sand on a beach, Steve takes your hand and helps you in, placing himself behind you as he cleans you and gently massages your lower back. 

When he abruptly pauses you can’t help but giggle when you take hold of his palm and move it back over your tummy. 

“He loves you both. Every time you talk or touch me, he does a little dance.” Eddie sits on the floor outside the tub and places his hand beside Steve’s. “Say something.”

“Listen, little rockstar, I know you’ve heard a lot of craziness out here but I promise it won’t be that chaotic. Whoa.”, he breathes when something pushes up towards them. “We love you, dude.”

##################

“Ok, are we all ready to find out what this baby is?!”, Masie shouts from her spot at the end of the table in your backyard. 

Today was the afternoon of the baby shower and you were so grateful for everyone that came. You half expected people to treat you differently but just like your reception you threw for the boys so many people came to celebrate this new milestone with you.

Your family from New York surprised you by coming down to see you, the family, and what the new edition would be. Your uncle loved Masie, helping her get things together for the party and decorating. Your parents and Eddie’s mother came as well with her little ones which the metalhead loved watching you interact with. 

As Wayne held the string to lift the pinata that read “The Baby Is…” off the ground, you gave the large bat to one of his half-sisters and spun her around making her giggle. Robin and Mr. C stood as far out of the way as possible enjoying the view but trying not to get whacked in the process. 

“Op! You have to swing harder than that!”

With one final hard hit your mouth fell open in shock as pink confetti and candy hit the ground. 

While everyone cheered, your eyes met theirs as they smiled and shrugged.

“I guess we’re having a girl!”, Steve beams as he comes around to give you a hug. 

***

You giggle from your spot at the sink as you continue to wash some of the dishes from that evening. Steve said he just needed a minute to rest and the next thing you knew, you heard him snoring on the couch with his arm slung over his eyes. 

“I’m telling you. Kid sleeps like a rock.”, Eddie grins as he enters the room and tosses some trash into the bag nearby. “Did you have a good day, sweetheart?”

“I did. It was nice to have some fun without all the drama we’ve been dealing with. What about you?”

“Yeah, I had a good day to. My favorite part was watching you with my siblings. You’re going to be an amazing mom.” The way he said that gave you pause as you turned off the facet and dried your hands. “I know we always talk about how Steve and I aren’t going to be like our dads but I hope you know that even though you love your family very much there are some things that will be different and that’s ok, baby.”

Blinking back your emotions, you wrap your arms around him as he lifts you off your feet. 

“I don’t want her to ever feel unloved.”, you murmur into his chest making him smile as he tilts back your head to kiss your lips. 

“She won’t because her mom and dads already love her so much. I can’t wait to meet her. I’m going to show her Dio and Judas and—ow!”, he teases when you lightly smack his chest. As you turn to head back to the sink, he tugs on your wrist bringing you back in front of him. “We, um, we haven’t talked about it yet but… I know…the titles…you don’t have to use them anymore…”

Taking a hold of his chin, you lift his face till his eyes meet your own and he doesn’t know if you can tell but he appreciates the softness behind them. 

“Do you want me to stop using them?”

“I mean…NO but…”, Eddie chuckles nervously. “It’s not like you can call me and him that stuff in front of a kid.”

“Yeah… but I can do it when we’re alone.” Pressing your lips to his, he groans against your kiss as your palm slides down his chest, past his stomach, to the bulge in his jeans. “You’re always going to be my Master and Steve will always be my Daddy. Even when I use your names those titles don’t fade. I’m yours, baby.”

“You are, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“You can use me to, Sir, if you need me. It’s been so long since I felt you inside me.”

“I—mmm—are you sure? You’ve been on your f-feet all day.”

Grinning, you lean forward to trail soft kisses along his chin, jaw, and up to his ear. 

“Then sweep me off them.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs as he takes ahold of your head in both hands and crashes his lips back to yours. You have no clue where he’s taking you as he starts walking you backwards till you bump into the table. Hastily, he unbuttons your pants, sliding them down your legs with your panties and kicking them aside. 

Eddie effortlessly lifts you onto the flat surface and as he fumbles with his belt you suck that sweet spot on his neck that you know drives him crazy. Giggling as he stumbles out of his jeans, he smiles as he licks his palm and strokes his cock a few times before effortlessly sheathing himself inside you. 

Resting his forehead against the nook between your neck and shoulder, you mewled as you felt his jaw fall open and his breathy moans warm your skin. Your hands cupped one of his cheeks just below his ear, pressing him to you while the other clung to his own shoulder as your arm rested behind his neck. 

“Just like that. Oh my god.”

“I know, baby. Fuck me. I know exactly where that spot is inside you. Right…here…”

At his last couple of words, Eddie slammed his hips into your own making you cry out as his cock perfectly hit that sensitive spot inside you. 

“You’re going to have to learn to be a lot quieter, princess.”, he chuckles as you smirk. 

After giving you a quick kiss, he guides you till your back is flat against the table and he takes hold of your legs, pulling you closer to the edge as he holds both limbs up with his strong arms under your knees. When his eyes meet yours, you already know what he wants, even giving you a helping hand as a long line of spit falls from his mouth onto your clit. 

As your fingers come down to rub his saliva into your bundle of nerves, Eddie bites his bottom lip to stifle a loud groan of his own as his pace hastens. 

“Fuck, Y/N. You look so fucking beautiful like this.”

A string of repetitive uhs fall from your mouth as the surface shakes underneath you. 

“Shit. Talk to me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

“God…I’m…you’re gonna make me cum. Please…Please, Sir, cum with me.”

Chasing both your highs, the metalhead pounded into you till he felt you tremble and your pussy squeeze his cock like a vice. 

“That’s it, baby! Good girl. F-Fucking good girl.”, he praised as his rhythm faltered and he coated your insides with his release. “Fuck…are you ok, babe?”

Still trying to catch your breath, you nod and give him a thumbs up that makes him laugh through his teeth. Taking hold of your arms, he playfully lifts you up to a sitting position and pulls you into him for a hug. 

“What about you, Daddy? You ok?”

Steve chuckles as he sits up and peaks his head over the back of the couch.

“Jesus, woman. I swear you have superhero levels of hearing. Yeah, I’m alright, honey.”

After helping you to the floor, Eddie took off your shirt and started walking you down the hall to the bathroom as Steve followed leaving his pants unbuttoned, holding them up with his hands. 

“I heard you trying to hide your moans. I know what you touching yourself sounds like.”

“Witch.”

“I’m not a witch, I’m your wife!”, you laugh as you stick out your tongue. “We should show her that movie all the time…The Princess Bride. It’s so good.”

Something flashes across Eddie’s face only for a moment before he grins at you both and steps into the shower bringing you with him.

“Hey. What was that? What passed through you mind?”

“Nothing, princess. It’s silly.”

After brushing some of his damp hair away from his eyes, you cup his face in your hands. 

“Tell me.”

His chocolate eyes flicked to Steve behind you as he stepped into the tub before sighing and shrugging his shoulders. 

“I want to refer to you as my wife. OUR wife. Obviously I already feel that way…fucking saying it without even thinking. Add in the fact that you’ve been with us for 5 years, through fucking everything and now you’re about to the mother of our child. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too sappy or cliché.”

“Eddie, baby. It’s a piece of paper we don’t need—”

“I know. I was just saying.”

“Can I talk?”, you giggle.

“I don’t know. Give it a try.”, he teases making your grin grow.

“I was going to SAY…It’s a piece of paper we don’t need because like you said we’ve been together through everything and we’re adding to our family. Eddie, if you want to tell people I’m your wife…tell them. Fuck what the assholes of this town think.”

Steve’s arms wrap around you from behind as he kisses your shoulder while the metalhead trails small pecks from your forehead down to your lips. 

After cleaning you up and drying you off, Eddie curls up against the headboard and fiddles with your hair while the other boy lays on his back in front of you both browsing through a book someone had given as a gift filled with baby names.

“We should name her after one of the elves in Lord of the Rings.”

“No, no. You are not giving our baby a nerdy name like Frido or something.”

At Eddie’s exasperated sigh and Steve’s mispronunciation you spit the water you had been drinking back into your glass as you laugh hard. 

“Look what you’ve done now, Steven. You’re killing the woman we love.”

“Shut up. What about you, honey? Any suggestions?”

“Um…”, you hum as you think for a moment before something pops into your head. “What about Molly?”

The pretty boy pouts out his lips in amusement as he and the metalhead nod. 

“How’d you come up with that?”

“The Breakfast Club.”, you whine as your voice cracks in embarrassment and you cover your face with your hands. 

“No! No, baby, don’t hide. You definitely have to break that down a bit.”, Eddie jests as he pulls at your wrists so they can see you.

“We met in detention… The first time I saw it with Maze it made me think of us. Steve is the jock Emilio Estevez who had problems with his father and being popular. Eddie would be Judd Nelson’s bad boy with an asshole family and a school system that didn’t seem to care. I’d be Ally Sheedy’s weirdo feeling ignored by her family… Molly Ringwald is the princess and since Ed already calls her that…just made me think…Molly.”

Crawling up the length of your body, Steve kisses your lips and then your stomach before falling beside you as Eddie did the same. 

“I like that name. Molly.”

“Molly Munson-Harrington.”

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

@needylilgal022 @local-stoner-bitch @katethetank @nailbatanddungeon

@sidthedollface2 @justanotheryn @pedropascalslilbaby

@marsupiooo @mandyjo8719 @bexreadstoomuch

@chelebelletx @perdopascalslilbaby @shayeddie @anaibis

@wroteclassicaly @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@siriuslysmoking @raptorbait529 @miarosso @micheledawn1975

@paleidiot @mrsjellymunson @dashingdeb16

#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steve fluff #dom!steve harrington #dom!eddie #sub reader #steddie x plussizereader #steve x plus size reader #eddie x plus size reader #plus size reader

[moodymelanist]

A Nessian drabble idea: Cassian waking up from anesthesia forgetting who Nesta is and is immediately starts flirting with her because she's so beautiful.

omg YES. this is so them thank you for sending this in I’ve always wanted to write one of these. I’ve also never had my wisdom teeth removed so sorry for any inaccuracies there LOL

Nesta had been hanging out in the waiting room for about an hour when someone finally called her name.

“Nesta Archeron?” one of the nurses called. Nesta quickly gathered her jacket and purse and got up to follow her.

“How’s he doing?” Nesta asked. Cassian had finally taken the plunge and gotten all four of his wisdom teeth removed in one go, and while Nesta knew this was a routine enough procedure, she was still a little antsy about her husband using anesthesia.

“It went well,” the nurse replied, leading Nesta into what looked like the outpatient area. “He’s recovering now. The anesthesia should be wearing off in the next few minutes if it hasn’t already.”

The nurse ran through a list of symptoms to watch out for and general tips to help Cassian’s healing process. Even though Nesta knew she’d be getting a thick packet with all these instructions, she still did her best to commit them to memory. This was her husband they were talking about; she wasn’t going to take any risks with him.

By the time the nurse finished explaining everything, they’d made it inside Cassian’s recovery room. He looked a little funny with his cheeks all swollen and a bandage wrapped around his face, but Nesta was too glad everything had gone well to really make fun of him.

That didn’t stop her from snapping a picture, though. Just because she didn’t intend to use it to tease him later didn’t mean she didn’t want one.

“Hey,” Nesta said softly as Cassian’s eyes fluttered open. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey,” Cassian said back, drawing out the word long and slow. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she managed to reply without laughing. He was clearly still feeling the anesthesia, and she was going to enjoy him being loopy for as long as it lasted. “You ready to go home?”

“With you?” he asked, his face lighting up.

“Of course with me,” she responded with a fond roll of her eyes.

“It must be my lucky day,” he answered, trying to pull his lips into a smirk and failing miserably. “Going home with the most gorgeous woman in here.”

“We go home together every night, you idiot,” she told him with a huff of laughter. “We live together.”

“Then I guess it’s my lucky night every night,” he fired back, though some of the effect was lost by how drowsy he sounded.

Nesta and the nurse exchanged amused glances before they started to prep to get him out of there. Thankfully Cassian was still dressed, so they just had to get him to stand so he could sit back down again in the wheelchair.

“Come on, big guy,” Nesta said, pulling the blankets back from Cassian so he could get out the bed. “Time to come home with me.”

“But…” Cassian trailed off, his face twisting into the most adorable pout as he caught sight of her left hand. “You’re married.”

She stared at him a little incredulously. Was he fucking with her, or was this just the anesthesia? “Yes?”

“I’ve been flirting with a married woman,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to his face and immediately regretting it. “Oh, God, I’m a homewrecker.”

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath, trying and failing to hold back her laughter. She gently pulled his hands away from his face and tapped the matching gold band on his left hand before raising her voice to add, “Cassian, look. You’re married too.”

“That’s even worse,” he groaned once he noticed his own wedding band. “Holy fuck. I’m a homewrecker and a cheater.”

“No, you doofus,” she replied, still laughing. “We’re married to each other.”

Cassian’s face looked like Christmas had come early. “Really?”

“Really,” Nesta confirmed. “It’ll be six years this October.”

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, completely awed. He reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together with a dopey look on his face. “Let’s go home, then.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30 | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @fieldofdaisiies

#acotar #acosf #Nessian #nesta Archeron #Cassian #Cassian acotar #nesta x cassian #Cassian x nesta #pro Nessian #pro Cassian #pro nesta archeron #anon asks #moodymelanistwrites #Nessian prompts

[admiringtheskies]

okay, so The Hyperfixation Is Hyperfixating, clearly, and honestly im just gonna continue going with it bc THEM— *screams* ANYWAYS @frownyalfred uhhhhhh hope you enjoy this as well! without further ado, another idea inspired by the incomparable ✨borderline✨ that just would NOT leave me alone until i got it all down into actual real words:

at some point further in the timeline of borderline'verse, when they've finally got the whole situation mostly under control, the batfam (whenever they accompany bruce, or multiple kids go together by themselves so they're in batclan mode, to do jl/other crossover shit) sort of ends up just doing the whole Bat-Danger-Aura thing, like, Constantly; somewhat unintentionally, but also with not much effort really made to rein it in, bc they do think the reactions are hilarious lol. and like, the thing is, they were ALREADY doing it pre-bond, pretty much right from whenever dick, jason, or both made their first appearance w bruce outside of gotham and first established the existence of mini-bats for the outside world — i mean, that sense of leashed power, as well as the eerie synchronicity and ability to communicate in the tiniest of gestures, was really just a natural consequence of the crime-fighting codependency and the training bruce put them through, originally. (as you may be able to tell, i have an Extremely Normal Amount of Feelings about the concept of cryptid batfam <3). but WITH the bond?? i mean, the kids are all connected to each other, yes, but their primary connections are all to BRUCE, and once they've had time to adjust, and set + actually semi-consistently enforce some basic boundaries, they absolutely take pride in using that to it's fullest advantage (that they're capable of while not intentionally compromising anybody's autonomy, anyways).

and like… OP's already touched on this in earlier chapters briefly a few times, but i NEED a thorough exploration of the idea of bruce seeing this change in them, seeing them subconsciously incorporate even just these little subtle mannerisms, and feeling so fucking guilty about it and spiraling bc he's terrified that all of his self-destructive qualities [that he's painfully aware of in himself] will transfer over to the children, who somehow never seem to realize that how proud and grateful they make him when they demonstrate their DIFFERENCES from him in those regards. and he's just so scared that he'll somehow ruin the few parts of them he thinks he's miraculously managed to avoid 'tainting' with his mentorship/fatherhood until now… …and meanwhile the kids are about to start crying because dad no what the fuck,,, but also facepalming a little bit bc jesus CHRIST, B, did you never even stop to consider the fact that you're just… really fuckin smart and skilled and know how to do a frankly ungodly amount of Cool Shit that we all share an interest in, and we were excited to have the chance to copy more of that shit too?! just, even beyond the great mental image of the Danger Walk, what really got me about that scene was just... his two oldest boys, who are already so much like him, not hesitating for a SECOND to gleefully take the chance to match his behavior even MORE perfectly, and wanting to know where he learned something as (relatively, by their standards) simple as the Serious Business Walk, and wanting to share that memory because it's just fuckin cool, y'all! like, to be clear, i absolutely respect the fact that, at least by the time that they're entering adulthood/in the prime of their mental and physical youth, any of the batkids are pretty much on, or definitely rapidly approaching, the same level as bruce in general badassery — and they probably each have 1 or 2 specific skillsets in which they can and do surpass him. but at the same time, you CANNOT convince me that, at any given point in the established DC timeline, there exists a non-bruce batfam character who can really look at bruce (like his personality, his aforementioned ridiculous skillset, i mean everything about him) and not see at least ONE quality in him that they aspire to. maybe it's something they already have and just can't see in themselves, maybe it's more a projection of something one of their other siblings has and shares with bruce, maybe it's just some skill, some random combat move, that he doesn't need very often, and so when he does use it, it briefly reminds them that "holy shit, he's The Fucking Batman" — but there's always SOMETHING there, some reason that even when they're having trouble communicating or arguing or emotions are running high, they'll never truly lose that respect for him that compels these ridiculously independent, self-sufficient people to willingly follow him: to listen to him, to trust him, and to keep themselves ready to unite under his lead. because nobody can argue that they are a clan, whose purpose comes from being first united under the guidance and protection and love of the bat.

#borderline #batman #batfam #bruce wayne meta #bruce wayne is a good dad #dc batman #cryptid batfam #telepathic connection

[insertdisc5]

The tumblr q&a is over, but I was curious! I love all the different phrases the characters in isat/sasasa:p use--If it's something you can say, where did inspiration for "gems alive" and other phrases come from?

THANK YOU FOR ASKING BECAUSE I GET TO TALK ABOUT WORLDBUILDING AND SWEAR WORDS AND BRANDON SANDERSON

long post ahead

ok so when I was figuring out the world, I found this lecture on worldbuilding by Brandon Sanderson (go watch it, and also go read his books), and (im gonna paraphrase heavily here) one thing he mentioned is that, to make a memorable world, one thing you can do is pick a couple areas of culture, and go real deep with it. So like, pick fashion, and architecture, and interior design, and develop those a bunch, and bam! you convinced people you have a whole dang world, even though you only developed 3 areas of this world. hollow iceberg everyone thinks is a real iceberg.

he also mentioned the idea of like... getting weird with it? and develop based on a weird detail? for example, in his book The Stormlight Archives, one detail is that women have to hide their left hand at all times. ok, so what does that mean, whats taboo about a left hand? is the left hand shameful, or lewd somehow, the same way ankles were for us? what about fashion, what does women's fashion look like? and how do you live your every day life, knowing you can't show this hand, can you carry things the same way? etc

SO, for me, one of the Big Worldbuilding pillars i picked was, uh, swear words lol. or language and common expressions, more generally. i went on a whole journey where i was like... ok swear words in a LOT of languages (including french and english, both languages i speak fluently) are either sexual, or about gross bodily discharges. you know what words i mean!!!!!

and, well, i also didnt want the game to be full of those words, mostly because i think its a tightrope to use those words without seeming cringe, and also because i have a Core Memory of showing a comic to a colleague and she said "well i wouldve liked to show it to my kids, but you said fuck 12 times in there" and i didnt show my face to her for a week. family friendly family friendly family friendly

so what swear words should my characters use, that arent the same ones we use? and could those swear words actually tell us something about the world they live in? could i actually use those swear words... to show the characters come from different cultures???

and what COULD swear words be like, if theyre not about sex or body stuff? well irl they're usually about religions or belief. "oh god", "goddamnit", etc. as a sidenote, stuff like "oh my god" or "geez" arent used, because jesus christ is not canon to the ISAT universe. alright

i decided very early on i wouldnt have those in the game either, but i COULD have them be about the religions specific to this world. and for insults, i could have them be about stuff those beliefs would see as lesser.

anyway instead of talking about "gems alive" lets talk about "crab"

isabeau+mirabelle+bonnie use "crab" as a swear word because they follow a religion all around change, bettering yourself, evolving, and, the crab meme,

for those who dont get the joke, its about carcinisation, and about how a bunch of non-crab-like forms somehow evolved to a crab-like form. which would be horrible, for a religion all based around change!!! you mean we change and evolve, but theres a chance we might all become crabs??? CRAB!!!!!!!

anyway having "crab" kinda reads as 1. swear word 2. thats funny and weird (sets the tone) 3. tells you they know what crabs are (world not that different from ours, AND means they live close-ish to the coast, aka not land locked) and 4. crabs are somehow hated/feared, even if as the player you dont get why, it shows this country has its own culture (even if you dont get the crabs joke, which uuuh apparently doesnt work as well in countries that dont have this specific meme. WHATEVER!!!!)

(a few people came to me saying "heh, i get it, because crab and crap are very similar words" and um actually i did not think about that. crab is just a funny word on its own, and also i am a comedy genius without even trying)

anyway tldr: swear words as a worldbuilding tool. soon in theaters

#in stars and time #start again start again start again #'adrienne isabeau says 'oh geez' 1 time in the prologue' #quite honestly this is a mistake and im retconning it. he said 'oh change' instead. will fix whenever i get around to making a new build #reference #also yeah canonically bonnie swears all the time #everyone has just given up and lets them curse like a sailor. bonnie has won #i added a cut but actually no you WILL read this whole post #long post

[bravo4iscool]

sister

there‘s too little trent in this world, so take this🕺

i hope you like this lol.

reader is clay‘s little sister and her nickname is „missy“, it‘s no indication of her name tho :)

word count: 5k

not proof-read :)

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

You happily smile and run into your brother's arms as soon as you see him. „I missed you big man,“ you laugh.

„Missed you too, Missy,“ Clay whispers into your hair, holding you close for another minute. „Thank you for inviting us,“ he then tells you, breaking the hug with a big smile on his face.

You grin and lightly shove his shoulder. „Of course I‘d invite you. It’s not often you have free time, you know. Besides, I don‘t want to spend Thanksgiving alone.“

When you look behind your older brother you see his team members finally approaching. They were waiting at the beginning of your driveway. They weren‘t all here today though. The team leader, Jason Hayes was with his family, as well as Ray Perry, but the others were invited to your Thanksgiving dinner.

„Hello, welcome,“ you enthusiastically greet them, waving. „Nice to finally meet you all. Clay told me much about you guys!“ You smile at them, shaking hand after hand.

They all smile at you and then one of them starts speaking. „Thanks for the invite. I‘m Sonny. I‘m surprised Blondie never told us about you,“ he tells you and you side-eye Clay before you start laughing.

„I think I need to have a talk with him regarding that matter,“ you tease. „But, let’s not talk about that! Please, come inside.“ You motion them to follow you and walk into your house. It was a little small but perfect for you. You couldn‘t imagine living somewhere else.

They follow you like a bunch of lost puppies and it‘s more than funny to you. You show them your living room and tell them to sit down. You would bring the food shortly, you say.

Clay follows you into the kitchen where you run around humming to yourself. „Are you trying to feed a whole bataillon?“ he laughs and you shriek.

„Jesus Christ!“ You place your hand over your heart. „Don‘t scare me like that!“ you scold him, jabbing your finger at him.

„I’m sorry,“ he laughs, pressing a kiss to your head. „Won‘t do it again. I just wanted to help you,“ he explains, starting to stir the gravy. „Been with these guys for too long.“

„Well, you chose to, didn‘t you?“ you ask putting the pie in the oven. „By the way,“ you look at him. „Who‘s the one with the beard?“

„We all have a beard Missy,“ Clay snorts and you roll your eyes.

„The one who didn‘t talk,“ you explain, tilting your head at your brother. „He only looked at me a bit strangely.“ You place the baking gloves on the counter and wipe a couple hair strands out of your face.

„Could be Brock or Trent. Why you wanna know?“

„He’s cute,“ you say with a shrug and Clay stops stirring. He turns around, eyes wide.

“No. No, no, no! You won’t make a move on one of my teammates!” he almost screams and you only laugh.

“Why not?”

“Because, firstly, I would work with the man fucking my sister, which is already weird enough and, secondly, you know our job,” his voice turns serious. “I don’t want you to…get your heart broken.” Clay averts his gaze, memories of his own breakup with Stella surfacing. She wasn’t able to live with the fear of losing him…

You already had him to worry about but dating another SEAL? He didn’t know if you could take that much stress and uncertainty. He wanted only the best for you.

You sign and walk towards him. “I know your job,” you confirm, gently placing your hand on his upper arm. “But does a dangerous job mean you guys are unlovable or don’t deserve it?”

You look up at him and he wants to cry. You were right but still, he didn’t want you to love one of them. Without saying anything he pulls you into his arms and keeps you close.

“Don’t…do anything you’ll regret,” he whispers and you tighten your arms around him. You never wanted to let him go. You’ve missed him too much…

“I promise,” you whisper back, a little tear escaping your eye. “Besides, I just said he’s cute. Never said I’ll make a move,” you then immediately joke, breaking the hug with a sniff.

Clay only rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smirk. “Maybe you did but I know you better.”

-

Trent sits on your couch, involved in a heavy discussion about football with Sonny. The Texan couldn’t accept the fact that he was the only hardcore football fan.

“We can watch soccer instead,” Brock retorts with a snort and immediately gains a death glare from Sonny.

„We‘re in America and in America you watch football!“ Sonny proudly exclaims, straightening his back and popping out his chest. „Besides, it‘s a long Thanksgiving tradition!“

Trent just rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the couch. He would look and ask if he could help anywhere. He’s not used to doing nothing. His hands are itching to do something.

When he‘s about to enter your kitchen he sees you and Clay breaking a hug. He decides to wait outside. You haven’t seen your brother in a long time and he wanted to give the two of you some privacy. When he‘s sure he can enter he slightly clears his throat.

You look to the door and smile when you see one of Clay‘s teammates. „Hey,“ you greet him, walking over to shake his hand. „Can I help you with anything?“, you want to know and he shakes his head.

„No, thanks. I actually wanted to ask if I can help you,“ he answers, trying his best to not look too intimidating. His height didn‘t help with that. „I‘m Trent, by the way,“ he’s careful not to stumble over his words.

He was nervous. Why was he nervous? You only were Clay’s sister. He didn’t know you. You didn‘t know him. So, why the hell was he nervous about talking to you?

„Uhm,“ you look around and totally miss the way Clay eyes his friend with a stern gaze (You didn‘t miss it). „I actually do need help, yes. These-“ you point at a couple of pots and the turkey. „-need to be set on the table.“

“Okay,” Trent slightly smiles before he looks at Clay. “You wanna help?” The younger SEAL stares at his friend for a couple seconds before he nods.

“Yea, I’ll tell you where to put it.”

“Great,” Trent mumbles as he picks up the turkey and leaves the kitchen, Clay following him with one of the pots. You look after them with a smile, then a laugh when you hear how your brother instructs his friend.

You decide to head to your living room to call the other guys. „Food‘s ready,“ you smile at them, peaking your head through the door. Sonny immediately stands up and claps his hands.

„That‘s my call!“ the Texan says and Brock snorts. Then he also stands up and walks towards you.

„I hope this isn‘t too much to ask but the dog‘s still in the car and I wanted to know if I‘d be allowed to get him out?“ He lightly tilts his head and you nod, an excited grin on your face.

„Sure! You can go and get him. Clay told me much about Cerberus!“ Relief washes over Brock and he excuses himself to get Cerberus. Normally he always took him with him but he didn‘t know how you‘d react to the shepherd dog.

„I‘m surprised that he didn‘t go crazy already,“ Clay retorts, suddenly by your side. „That dog‘s his life…“

„Well, at least he‘s got someone, no? Dog or not.“ You smile at your brother before you leave him alone to sit down in your dining room. „Are you coming?“ you turn around and he nods before following you.

-

„Missy, it‘s me!“ Your head shoots up when you hear Sonny‘s voice. What was the Texan doing in your house? Not that you didn‘t want him here, you‘ve become amazing friends with Bravo Team since your Thanksgiving dinner but it was 12am, so why was Sonny here?

Your head pops out of the kitchen and you eye Sonny. „What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work.“

„Trent said I need to step back for a day or two. That fucker got me the wrong way during sparring,“ he explains while he stretches himself on your couch. „You have no problem with me being here, do you? I can also leave if you want me to.“ He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow.

„Oh,“ you smile. „No, you can stay. I have no problem with that.“ You turn to leave to the kitchen again then you turn around once more. „I hope you‘re fine lasagne? Clay asked me to cook it since he‘ll be around for lunch today.“

Sonny starts to grin and stand up immediately. „Did you say lasagne? Count me in Ms.Spenser!“ He follows you to the kitchen like a lost puppy and you laugh at that.

„You really want to compete with Cerberus, do you?“ Sonny only snorts at your question and sits down on one of your kitchen chairs. You laugh and shake your head. „Normally he‘s the one following me to the kitchen like he‘s a saint.“

„He ain‘t a saint,“ Sonny retorts and you grin.

„No, he‘s not. But you are?“ You turn to look at him, just fast enough to see him smirk.

„Never said I was one,“ he answers with a shrug, a full grin now working its way onto his face. „No one‘s a saint,“ he continues, stretching out his legs. „Except for you maybe. You come quite close to one.“

„Why‘s that?“ you ask, sprinkling cheese over the lasagna. You glance at him over your shoulder. He has his hands crossed in his lap and his head laid back, eyes closed. You smile at that sight. If you learned one thing about Sonny it was that he always acted all tough and untouchable but deep down he just wanted peace and calm…

„You‘re nice, you care for us, Trent has a crush on you,“ Sonny starts listing, not paying attention to the fact that he‘d just exposed his brother and you freeze. Trent had what? Surely you must‘ve misheard it. „Jason likes your muffins, Clay isn‘t bitching around that much when he was with you before.“ Sonny opens his eyes and looks at you. „You want me to continue?“

You shake your head and walk over to the oven. „No…“ you sound a bit confused, almost irritated by Sonny‘s words. „You don‘t need to praise me to the heavens, Sonny.“ you force a smile at him. „I‘m just…a normal person. Nothing special.“ You push the lasagna inside and turn the oven on.

Sonny tilts his head at you. Something he said caught you off guard, he can feel it. „Is it because I told you Jace likes your muffins? I was not supposed to tell you but-“

You turn around. „It‘s not the muffins Sonny.“

„Mhh…“ Sonny recalls everything he told you and then his eyes widen. „Oh shit! It‘s what I said about Trent, right? Oh fuck!“ He stands up. „Look, just- I don‘t know… Just because I said it doesn‘t mean it needs to be true!“

You shut him up with your gaze and for a second he just stands in your kitchen staring at you. Then realization hits him. „Oh… You want it to be true, don‘t you?“ You feel blood rush into your cheeks and avert your eyes. Sonny wouldn‘t let you hear the end of it now…

You expect the Texan to crack jokes and maybe laugh but he just looks at you. „You like him“, he then slowly puts the pieces together further and you simply nod along. „Now I own Ray 50$, damn.“

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth. „You had bets on me?“ He can‘t be serious, can he?

„Of course,“ Sonny seems so casual about it. „Ever since you brought Trent soup when he had a cold. You didn‘t even do it for Clay when he was bedridden.“ You don‘t know how to respond to that. If the team knew… did Trent know it too? Your palms start to sweat.

„Does…does he know?“ you carefully ask Sonny and he snorts. Was that a good sign now or a bad one?

„That fucker is as oblivious as Cerb when Brock tells him they‘re going swimming but instead he drags him to the vet.“ You blink at Sonny, not sure what to do with that answer. Sonny sighs. „Long story short, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t even think there's a possibility of you liking him back. That man is so head over heels over you that he tries to find even the slightest excuse to show up at your front door.“

„He…does?“ you’re still surprised by the fact that Trent apparently also likes you. You didn‘t know how to process all this.

„Of course,“ Sonny laughs. „Matter of fact, I‘m 100% sure he’s trying to convince Clay right now to let him come with him. Man‘s desperate to see you.“

You want to answer but then you think for a second. Why was Sonny telling you all this? Why was he breaking Trent‘s trust like that? This wasn‘t normal for Sonny…

„Why are you doing this Sonny?“ You then decide to ask. „Why are you telling me all this? Aren‘t you…betraying Trent right now?“

-

It‘s 11, maybe 11:30pm when you leave work and the cold wind collides with your face. You shiver and pull your jacket faster around you. You should‘ve taken your fucking car instead of walking to work this afternoon. You curse yourself as you quicken your steps and look around almost paranoid.

With Clay being your brother you always were very aware of what was happening around you. Clay made sure to teach you what he thought was necessary for you to know, that included the observation of everything around you and you’ve never been more thankful for it. It made you feel a tad more safe, especially now that you were walking around alone at night.

When you hear footsteps getting close to you you fish for your phone, never being more happy to have Clay on speed dial. You press your phone to your ear, your eyes glancing behind your shoulder. There was someone…

You decide to walk another way back home. One where you walk through the more populated areas of the town. While you try to keep an eye on your surroundings you wait for Clay to pick up. When he doesn‘t you suppress a curse and dial the next number. Sonny.

He would pick up, no? He is always on his phone anyway. But Sonny doesn’t pick up. You try to reach Clay again, then Sonny. They don’t answer.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, glancing behind you again. Whoever was walking behind you was surely following you. You’ve been taking other turns for the third time in a row now and they were still behind you.

You squint at your phone and take a deep breath. Without thinking twice about it you dial Trent’s number. You’re afraid you’ll break your phone with the grip you’re having on it but you try to keep calm. Clay prepared you for situations like this. Kinda.

“Trent? It’s me. Am I interrupting something?” you let out a relieved breath when he answers. “Could you do me a favor?” you’re even more relieved when he immediately answers with a yes. “I’m on my way back home from work and there’s someone follow-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before you hear him get up and grab his keys.

He asks you where you are and you quickly send him your live location. He promises you he’ll be there as fast as he can and your legs nearly give out from the sudden reassurance. You thank him over and over, quickening your steps once again.

“I’ll be there in 15,” you hear Trent say and you visibly relax. “Stay where you are, try to find a crowd or something close to that. I’m gonna stay in the line,” he explains and you nod, telling him you’ll do the best you can.

Your eyes scan the buildings surrounding you and then fall onto a small 24/7 shop. There surely was someone who could keep you company while Trent arrives, right?

“There’s a uh store,” you carefully say, your feet walking yourself over there almost by themselves. As expected Trent tells you to enter and look out for someone.

A small ‘ding’ signals you entering the store and you immediately start to hide between the shelves. And you were right to do so because only seconds later the bell rings again. You take a deep breath and grab one of the baking mixtures to look busy.

Then you call Trent’s name again. “I’m pretty sure they followed me into the store,” you quietly say, trying to glance around as unsuspiciously as possible. You pause for a second, the grip around the baking mix tightening. “Please tell me you’re here soon…”

“5 minutes,” he tells you, flooring the throttle of his truck. “5 minutes, then I’m there.” His grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white and he needs to keep himself calm more than ever.

On the battlefield he never was that nervous. His brothers could take care of themselves but you… You couldn’t.

Yes, Clay probably taught you basic self defense, he thinks but still. He could protect you better than you ever could…

When he arrives at your location he doesn’t bother properly parking his truck. He jumps out and tries to calmly walk towards the store but it‘s like his feet are itching.

He raises his phone, looking at the still ongoing call. „I‘m here,“ he tells you and then he opens the door. You‘re in his arms before he can even blink.

He stumbles two steps backwards before he can wrap his arms around you. „It‘s okay, it‘s okay,“ he says, his hand finding its way to the back of your head, keeping you close to him. „You’re not alone anymore.“

„God, that man was creepy,“ you breathlessly laugh, breaking the hug. You immediately miss the warmth Trent generated and heavily blush. „I‘m sorry for calling you so out of the blue-“ you want to apologize but he’s raising his hand to stop you.

„No, none of that. You can call me whenever you need. I‘m always there for you,“ he explains, looking you deep in the eyes. „Now, did you see the man? Do you know who he is?“

Trent‘s eyes narrow and the sparkling got replaced by a dangerous look. You shiver and swallow. You turn so you stand beside Trent and then you nod into the direction of a man. „That‘s him,“ you say. „He‘s been following me for at least three blocks.“

Trent looks at the man, then at you. „My truck‘s outside. Gimme three minutes and I‘ll join you there. I don‘t want you to witness this.“ He looks at you again and you nod.

„Okay. I‘ll go and wait…outside.“ You turn your back to Trent and leave, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You knew what he was gonna do. He‘ll nicely confront the man and probably calmly tell him to fuck off.

You stand beside his truck, already climbing in since it‘s still running and you can already see yourself patching up his bloody knuckles later. You sigh when you think about that. Sometimes you thought that he was just chasing trouble…

-

„Why are you looking at me like that?“ you mumble into your pillow, your eyes heavy with sleep.

„You’re pretty,“ Trent says and you can hear the smile in his voice. You quietly laugh and rub your eyes. Then you sit up in your bed and look at him. He sits on the floor, his back popped up against a wall.

„How long‘ve you been watching me?“ you want to know, smiling at him. He accompanied you home after the incident the night before and he refused to leave…

You offered him your couch, your bed even but he declined. So, he probably was awake the whole night, making sure you’re safe.

“I woke up about two hours ago,” he lies, placing his arms on his bent legs. “I made breakfast,” he then tells you, standing up with a low grunt. “Get ready, then we can eat.” He smiles before he leaves your room.

You quickly stand up and throw on some clothes before you rush to the bathroom to get ready. On the other side of your flat stood Trent in your kitchen, asking himself if he was going crazy.

He couldn’t think straight whenever he was with you and damn, it was showing. Telling you you look pretty while you just woke up? Watching you sleep in the first place? What the hell was he going through?

He wasn’t unfamiliar with being in love, that’s what brought him his two ex wives… So, he really wasn’t new to it but why was he acting so weird with you now? It shouldn’t be weird, no?

“You made all this?” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks at you. Fuck, you were even more beautiful now… How was he supposed to look past that and just…be normal?

„I did, yeah,“ he smiles, hiding his fidgeting hands behind his back. You grin up at him, the crinkles around your eyes showing and he just feels like he’s falling in love with you all over again.

„You didn‘t have to,“ you laugh, crossing your arms in front of your body. „This is- You didn‘t need to-“ you want to finish your sentence but Trent interrupts you. He gently leads you towards your table and pulls back a chair for you.

„I wanted to,“ he simply says. „Besides I already got the call that I need to leave soon, so I just wanted to make you happy before I and the team vanish for god knows how long again.“ He sits down opposite to you and fills your and his glass with orange juice.

„Will Clay pick you up?“ you ask, taking a sip of your orange juice. Trent shakes his head saying something about Clay not being allowed to know he was here and that Sonny wouldn‘t let him hear the end of it if he found out that he spent the night at yours.

You only laugh at that and continue to eat your breakfast. „I can drive you?“ you then suggest but he kindly denies.

„I can drive on my own Missy, don‘t worry. Besides, don’t you have to work today?“ Trent chews on his bread roll, curiously eying you but you just shake your head. You wouldn‘t need to work the next three days.

-

Your lungs sting as you run into the ER. You look around, panic in your eyes, your body shaking.

“Ma’am? Can we help you?” a young nurse asks, clearly worried. “Is everything okay?” She gently places a hand on your arm and your head snaps towards her.

“Clay Spenser. Where is he?” you rasp out, eyes teary. “I’ve been told he’s here.” Your voice breaks and the first tears run down your cheeks.

The nurse nods along and carefully leads you down a hallway. “I’m afraid we can’t help you but my colleague can surely tell you which room he is.” She smiles at you and you want to smile back but you just…can’t.

After half an hour of asking around you’re finally led to your brother’s room, your throat dry. You didn‘t know anything about his condition. Everything they told you was that he was being treated in the hospital.

„One of his friends is also in there,“ you’re informed as you come to a hold in front of the room. „We can ask him to leave at any moment though since he does not count as family.“

You only smile at the nurse. „No need for that. I…know him.“ You didn‘t know who of Bravo was with your brother right now but nevertheless you knew him. And besides, this team was family. They maybe didn‘t share the same DNA but the same blood was adorning their hands.

When the nurse was sure you were fine on your own she left you at the door, a comforting hand on your shoulder before she walked away. You stare at the door, taking a deep breath and opening it with trembling hands.

You pushed it open, your breath hitching when you notice all the monitors scattered around the room and the endless beeping of said machines.

You can see someone move and walk towards you in the corner of your eye. You know who it is when he lays his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace.

Trent doesn’t say a word while you cry, only holding you close and keeping a hand comfortingly on your back. He felt a bit helpless right now, not really knowing what to do but all you needed was just him holding you…

„Thank you for staying with him,“ you whisper after a couple moments, sniffing and breaking the hug. You want to wipe away your tears, feeling embarrassed for losing control like that but he gently wraps his hands around your wrists, pulling them away from your face.

You’re confused for a moment but then he pulls out a tissue and carefully starts to wipe away your tears. You feel like you could start to cry all over again.

„Thank you,“ you sniff again but he just shakes his head.

„You don‘t need to thank me.“ Then he pulls you into his arms again, planting a kiss on your head. „You both are family.“ Trent breaks the hug and cups your face with gentle hands.

„I know you’re scared for him right now,“ Trent glances into the direction of the bed where Clay was laying. „But he’s stable. He‘s pulling through. He’s a strong one.“

Your hand reaches out to place it over his, pulling them from your face and holding them in yours. You say nothing, only holding his hands and working up the courage to finally look at your brother.

„How did it happen?“ you ask, your voice almost being stuck in your throat.

„That’s…classified. I‘m sorry,“ Trent says in a quiet voice. „But, he’s got a couple of broken ribs, his lungs have seen better days and the fingers of his right hand are broken.“

Fresh tears gather in your eyes as you listen to Trent, letting go of him with trembling hands and walking towards Clay. „I told him that his job would demand its tribute sooner or later. He didn‘t listen…“ You sniff, carefully sitting down at the edge of the bed. „He never listens to me…“

-

“I thought you’d kill me as soon as I wake up,” Clay breathlessly laughs while you take a look at his bandages. He was currently laying on your couch, letting himself be treated by you.

“I would’ve,” you mumble. “If it weren’t for Trent.” You reach for the bandage tape and rip off a piece to place it over his arm brace so the bandage would stay in place.

Clay looks at you, tilting his head. “You like him, don’t you?” he then carefully asks and you halt for a second.

“What if I do?” you return the question, avoiding his gaze and fumbling with the tape in your hands.

You can feel your brother looking at you anyway, his eyes burning into your head. “I’d probably try and beat him up.”

“You would fail.”

“I know.” His hand reaches for yours and you finally look up. “I know what I told you when you first met them and…I still mean it but I can’t control who you love.” Clay pauses for a second, his gaze softening. “If you love him then so it be… Besides, he also has a thing for you but I think you know that already.” Clay starts to chuckle at the end of his sentence, his thumb carefully stroking the back of your hand.

“Guard your heart Missy. Don’t give it to the next best asshole.”

“Are you saying your friend is an asshole?” Your eyes widen with surprise.

“That’s not what I said!” Clay immediately shakes his head. “He’s a good guy—I know that for sure—but there are dudes who aren’t as amazing as lovely Trent. I’m asking you to be careful about them.”

You slightly smile before you sigh and stand up. “I don’t think you have to worry about me Clay. I’ll be fine as long as you don’t decide to run into a grenade anytime soon again.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes in a joking manner. “Sonny said the path was clear.”

-

“You think he’s okay with this?” Trent carefully asks as he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I don’t care what he thinks,” you reply, leaning against him, looking down at your hands. “I’m a grown up. I can do what I want.”

Trent chuckles, glancing at you with a gentle smile. “Do I need to expect the big-brother-talk?” He then wants to know. He needed to know what he needed to prepare for when he saw Clay again.

“More of a big-brother-beating,” you snort with a laugh. “I told him he’d lose and he knows it too but he wants to try anyway.”

“I promise I won’t be too hard on him,” Trent laughs, pressing a kiss to your head. “He’s still not cleared to operate so I need to look after him anyway.”

You don’t reply to that, only enjoying the moment, finally in Trent’s arms, without having to worry about anything in the world. You knew that sooner or later you’d be confronted by his job and its bad sides but right now you didn’t care about that.

You were with him and that was wall what you needed right now.

#writing #ao3 #fanfiction #archive of our own #story writing #seal team #seal team paramount #trent sawyer #brock reynolds #jason hayes #clay spenser #sonny quinn #scott carter #trent sawyer x reader #trent sawyer seal team #brock reynolds seal team #jason hayes seal team #clay spenser seal team #sonny quinn seal team

[wifegideonnav]

#unfortunately i think the answer has to do with the worst pair of leggings in existence #being the religious figure of the squad and all #cristabel

what does this mean!!

hi lmao ok so this is less of a theory and more something that occurred to me when i saw that post but. in essence it’s definitely possible that cristabel has red eyes in reference to the sufferer/kankri vantas from homestuck. within the canon of the story, the sufferer (aka the signless) is quite literally troll jesus. his alternate universe annoying 19 year old counterpart, kankri, is in a weird way also a religious figure to his group of annoying 19 year old friends (whose alternate universe selves played other roles in the jesus retelling), who have been in the afterlife for millions of years and watched the signless’s story unfold. at least one of them wears his symbol on her necklace.

so within the pre-resurrection squad, where john wasn’t god yet, c— was the religious figure, like kankri. it’s not a 1:1, obviously both situations are more convoluted, but if tm was like hm what eye color should i give to the religious figure of my squad, it’s possible that she picked red as a nod to the signless (whose blood and therefore eyes are red)

as for the leggings thing. um. so im relatively new to the fandom aka i wasn’t there when this happened but my understanding is that it started when this panel with karkat way in the background was published:

and it looked like he was just wearing one long pants. this became a meme called “pantskat” and hussie eventually acknowledged it in canon by having the signless wear “righteous leggings”

here are said leggings, and on the right i increased the brightness so they’re easier to see

and then here’s a random sprite of kankri wearing his leggings lol, it’s canon that he wears them and only wears a sweater on top because one of his friends got sick of looking at the leggings and knitted it for him

alright well that was about 5 times longer than i thought it was gonna be lol but tbh i love elaborating 😌 and i would love to know what other people think. also i hope that this explanation even makes sense to people who haven’t read the comic 😭 i tried to make it as simple as possible but when it comes to hs that’s not saying much lol

oh also quick eta: there are people who are very into the ancestors and dancestors and i am not one of those people (esp re: ancestors) so i apologize for any inaccuracies, this is based on the best of my memory + what i could find on the wiki. ancestor/dancestor people feel free to make corrections lol

#asks #cristabel oct

[go-to-the-mirror]

i dont want to talk about scrutiny

WHATEVER, FINE, OKAY, WE'RE DOING SCRUTINY, OR SOMETHING, FINE, WHATEVER, WHAT EVER

i love scrutiny, i do, but in the way that i love threshold, and nothing beside remains, and seeing it through, and a guest for mr spider. meaning I really do, but I also hate it with vitriol. Not really? It's complicated. I have Some Feelings Towards it. Yep. Look this podcast makes me feel happiness and sadness and anger at the same bloody time, but it's all confused because it's overridden by being Very ADHD about it, so like, they're all rattling around in there. I hate it (affectionate), I love it (derogatory), you get it?

Anyway, y'all know how I feel about Jon already, and if you don't, it's love and only love, so uhm, yeah, let's just get on with it already, rambling and mostly rambling, attempts to set aside my undying love for the Jarchivist for like a day, etc.

@a-mag-a-day

Firstly, I'd like to draw attention to the posts I made on my instagram story about this when I was first listening to TMA, because I was Not Alright.

The first was highlighting the description of the episode: "Statement of an unknown bystander, regarding an encounter with The Archivist." "The Archivist." Not "Jonathan Sims," not "Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London," not even "Jonathan Sims, The Archivist."

Just... The Archivist.

The second was regarding the first, saying that I knew it was deserved but he should be allowed to eat a few fears. As a treat.

I didn't say anything to my partner (who you should follow by the way, they're scarandjoelenthusiast), cause I think I was still attempting to be spoiler free for vex at that point, lol. And I had no other... friends. At all. Um. Yeah.

So, onto the relisten! Oh boy.

MARTIN Ah, alright, did he... did he look like he hadn't slept in about a week?

I absolutely love that Jon's descriptors are looking like shit, and looking like Jesus. That's just amazing.

Also uh,,, why did Martin immediately go to Jon? Hm..

Everything, every bit of light or sound or, or anything that changed, that said time was passing. There was nothing. Before that I never really thought about time, you know? But now… Yeah.

that must have been terrifying

So, it, it took a long time to get over that. I mean, that’s not weird, right? I me— It was a bad time. You know, it, it stays with you. Was signed off, what, I think about six months with the injuries. Had pretty bad, uh, nightmares, claustrophobia, I mean, obviously, right? But, uh, but, but I did my physio, and, you know, talked, talked with the counsellor they gave me. Look, I did everything I was supposed to and, and yeah, I… I guess I was fine. You know, once the bruises were gone I— Well, it’s easy to blame memory, right? You know, ha-hallucination, coincidence, all the classic shite you tell yourself. Life went back to normal. I— I was fine. Until about two weeks ago.

Jesus fucking christ, Jon. She was fine, trying to get over it, Floyd was fine and that's just it, because they think they're safe, and-

She was fine, she was okay, and he took that from her, he took that from her, he made it so she couldn't be fine anymore, he made it so every god. damn. night she'd experience that again, the bastard.

There’s this creep in, in the corner. Your guy. He just… keeps staring at me, like, like properly staring. Like, it is super intense and, and real weird. Like he knows me, but I sure as hell do not know him. I— I try to ignore him, look, I just, I just read my book, and every time I look up there he is, watching me.

Girls when they realise oh yes, he's an avatar.

So… Look, I’m packing up, all done and, and I just, I just sorta turn, you know, just, just to check if he’s still there and he is standing right behind— Like, like a few inches from my face. Look, it’s messed up!

That's??? Terrifying?? I mean, look, like, my sisters jump whenever I quietly stand behind them and stare intently, and they're my sisters, they know me, they know I only joke about stabbing them with a knife, Jon, that's freaky, stop being freaky, you have trauma at home. Go eat a stale trauma for gods sake.

Like, okay Mr. "I don't think it's me doing it." Who sat at a bloody coffee shop for an hour.

I. Understand. That there is a certain. Need. To cause and feed on fear. As an Avatar/Monster/Whatever. And I mean like it's pretty hard. To admit you're in the wrong for something. Even if you think you're in the wrong for other things. But like. None of this matters to Jess, to Floyd, to the three other people whose lives he ruined. He can try be better, he can never do it again, but he can't go back and fix it.

And I start to ask him, you know, what the hell, man, you know? Like— But he just starts talking. Slowly. But real intense. He says, he works here, at the, the Magnus Institute, and I say, what even is that and he says, he wants my story. He says he needs to hear what happened to me. And I— I want to tell him to jj-just go away. I want to, to, to kick him and run. But I— (long sigh) I sit down. And I start to tell him everything. About the job, about the collapse, a-about the hand. More than I told you, even, and, and as I do— it’s like I’m there again. Like I can feel it grab my ankle, th-th-that cold, dead hand and I just… I just can’t stop talking. I cannot shut up.

[ID: A blurry photo of CC!GoodTimesWithScar with his head in his hands. /End ID]

And then it was over. And he looked— He looked at me like he’d just eaten, like a perfectly cooked steak. You know what he said? He said, “Thank you.” “Thank you.” Just like that. Like, like reliving the worst parts of my whole life were just a bit of a… a favour that I’d done him. And then he left and I— I just sat there and cried for a while.

i don't know what to say im just sitting here with my head in my hands.

And he’s there the whole time, just… watching me. Watching me scream and thrash and… He’s all eyes. He’s all eyes.

I kinda want to punch him right about now, because how dare he do that to her, how dare he ruin her life just because he wanted to. Whatever, avatar, feed your god or it'll feed on you, I don't care, that's his business, not hers. She wasn't involved, she didn't have to be involved, she was fine and he took that from her, the bastard!

How dare he sit there talking about choice, how dare he feel all guilty for ruining her life, how dare he! He doesn't deserve to feel bad about it. Christ, Jon, what the fuck.

But I feel like I’m seeing him when I’m awake as well. I’ve been… I’ve been having a lot of problems since he talked to me. Since I talked to him. Since I told my... story. The, the claustrophobia, it’s back, worse than it ever was and I can’t do my job. I have these, these screaming panic attacks every time I try and— What am I supposed to do? Like, feels like, like every time I’m even slightly underground I— Can’t even go into a shop basement more without feeling that… (sniffs) hand. Every time I do, every time I get that panic just rising up my throat, I see him. He’s there. Not when I look properly, but just at the edge. The corner of my eye. Then he’s gone.

(MAG 142 - Scrutiny)

Since then, she said she’d been seeing that woman everywhere she went.

(MAG 6 - Worm Sex Episode Squirm)

✨ becoming what you hated ✨

No, but I have a lot of feelings on becoming a fear entity Avatar and the cycle of violence. Of how Avatars often only became Avatars because of previous trauma, because they had no other options. Of how they often don't see themselves as victims, for example Annabelle Cane describing herself as manipulative, even as she was a child trying to cope in an abusive household. And I think that Jon being like Jane Prentiss, following his victims like her, starting to understand her... that ties into those themes. I love this podcast <3.

MARTIN No, no, it’s— Thank you. I just— [Agitated clatter] For god’s sake, can he not just stay safe for like, like ten minutes?! DAISY I don’t think that’s an option for him anymore. MARTIN Yeah, I mean, sure. But he just… he doesn’t think! He always just immediately charges straight off into danger with whatever, whatever half-arsed plan occurs to him at the time! I don’t get it! DAISY What’s to get? MARTIN What? DAISY I, I mean, it’s pretty standard stuff. MARTIN What? DAISY Used to see it all the time back in the force, especially with the sectioned. Not like there’s ‘normal’ trauma, you know, but it’s pretty common. The most important thing becomes control, engaging on your own terms. Even when it’s stupid or dangerous. Anything to not feel helpless. MARTIN Oh god… DAISY And of course for Jon’s there’s survivor’s guilt in there too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.

PODDED CAST!!

Thank you, Jonny.

Like hgnhhrnhhnr <3 yep. mhhnm there's another post that talks about the meaning of putting that in with scrutiny, I'll tag a mag a day in that.

Like! Aa! Thank you. Don't really have much to add, I mean I said a bunch in other episodes rambles, specifically the MAG 131, 132, and 136 ones.

I mean you know, the whole spider thing, a bit of his self-blame about... the end of season 4... could come from... if he's not to blame, then he didn't have any control, then all of this was out of his control. If he couldn't stop it, if Jimmy Magma's plan was that good then... well, then he was helpless, and there's nothing worse than being helpless.

in conclusion, disregard the above Jon did nothing wrong- no, he's... he doesn't get to be forgiven by Jess, by Floyd, by the others, not unless they choose to forgive him. But he can work on doing better, you know? He's allowed to not wallow in guilt the whole time, he's not irredeemable, he just did bad things -- bad things he can't fix -- but he can work on never doing those bad things again, on mitigating the damage as much as he can. He's not a bad person, just a person who did bad things.

I dunno, I'm more interested in the metaphysics side of philosophy. You know there's a branch of philosophy called metametaphysics? I think it's so funny.

#tma #the magnus archives #mag 142 #jonathan sims #jess terrell #tma meta #a mag a day #landscaping-your-mind-chapter-one #podded cast <3

[floralegia]

4, 19, 27, 29 for the writing ask game! 💜💖

EEEEE thank you!!

4. How many WIPs do you have right now?

OH GREAT SO YOU'RE COMING FOR MY HEAD RIGHT FROM THE START

Well, I counted 29 for this post, but as I noted there that doesn't include the plot bunnies chilling in my ideas doc (aka The List™) or either of the two bingo cards I currently have out, which between them have I want to say 32 prompts? So, you know. :'''')

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

There's important stuff being said, probably, but the only thought Pete's brain is capable of processing right now is this one: Oh my God, he's such a fucking DILF.

Well, okay, that's not exactly true, because as soon as that thought slides through his psyche, it butts right up against the answering one that shouts Patrick! That fucking DILF is fucking PATRICK!, and then he gets sort of stuck in that loop for a little while, until at last the DILF thing overpowers the shrieking confusion of the fact that up until a couple of minutes ago, he'd only known Patrick Stump as a sort of sweaty, scowl-y, angel-voiced teenager, and the whole thing starts over again with the urge to drool dramatically over the glasses and the beard and the fucking build of him, Jesus fucking Christ.

Suffice to say, it's been a challenging few minutes.

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

There have been a couple of notable ones in recent memory, one that I won't name because I ended up posting it on a sock account and then this one. In both cases, I was essentially scared of being harassed over the content of the fics; the unnamed fic contains a couple of noncon scenes, and obviously the linked fic is Waycest, lol. Both have been received pretty well so far (touch wood), so, I mean, I'm definitely building up confidence, I think? I very strongly believe in the idea of writing whatever and who cares what people think, but also I am very small and very frightened lol. It's a whole thing.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

Random fic idea, under the cut because it's a bit long: P2 RHPS AU feat. Bandom At Large!

Due to watching the video of Patrick's performance of "I Can Make You A Man" for the 2020 RHPS charity livestream--which, oh my God, by the way--I was struck by the idea of a Rocky Horror AU. To be clear, I don't mean an AU based on the movie the Rocky Horror Picture Show, I mean an AU about the boys putting on the Rocky Horror Picture show. So really, I suppose, it's a college community theater AU of some kind, but it's focused around RHPS. Not that I've been involved in a production myself, other than at CTY, I suppose, but having done community theater generally and attended RHPS productions, I think I can make a fair attempt.

So, anyway. Pete is running the thing--whole thing is his idea, he's the director, etc. I feel like this is likely not the first year, and in fact Pete likely inherited the production from an upperclassman. But they had a lot of people graduate last year, and they're having trouble backfilling those roles, so in addition to directing he's reprising his role as Rocky. They're advertising hard for musicians, too, because Pete--being a go big or go home kind of guy--ALSO wants to perform with a live band this year and do a proper Rocky Horror Show production, rather than perform in front of the film as they've typically done. That's how Patrick gets involved: he shows up to inquire about playing in the pit, because he's always trying to pick up odd musical jobs here and there to pay for school, and in true Fall Out Boy fashion he ends up singing a little bit and Pete's like, wait, no, holy fuck, sing this, throws the book at him, Patrick sings a bit of one of Frank's lines, and that's all she wrote. They've been having a particular amount of trouble casting Frank, and Pete decides Patrick is perfect for the role, which kind of baffles everyone else, especially Patrick, but Pete's like... distractingly pretty, so against his own better judgement Patrick agrees.

Beyond that, I'm not sure what the actual, like, plot would be. I think Patrick has a passing familiarity with RHPS but definitely not intimate knowledge, so partially he has to get up to speed. Partially, too, he has to overcome his stage fright and particularly his aversion to appearing on stage in front of a bunch of strangers while wearing sexy outfits and doing a lot of slutty slutty things, so there's that, but idk if that's a "plot" per se. There's also the implication/background of the production being sort of scrappy, but I don't know that that's a "plot" either, really. Hmmm.

Well, in the meantime, other notes that I had in my head include Gabe Saporta as Brad because I think that's really funny given his everything; Joe and Andy are definitely involved, I think with Joe playing Meatloaf and Andy drumming, or maybe Andy's Meatloaf and Joe is Riff Raff???? General DCD2/bandom cast... Uhhh, Ray should definitely be in the band/pit, Hayley Williams and Gerard are Magenta and Columbia (not sure which is which--I like Gerard as a sexy maid, so maybe he's Magenta???), and then that leaves, what, the criminologist??? Oh, and Janet, obviously. Maybe Greta from the Hush Sound is Janet? Or Vicky-T, that would make a lot of sense. Frank is either in the pit or he's the stage manager or something. Or crew. He kind of has insane stage crew energy. Mikey is... there. Possibly pit as well. Possibly just hanging around and the joke is everyone's always like, Mikey what the fuck are you doing here???? and he just shrugs and the answer is that he tends to get dragged into things Gerard's involved in and this is no different, but really he's just hanging around.

#ask game #LOVE YOU HAN

[mirror-to-the-past]

More (Apparently) KH3:Remind and Melody of Memory Stuff

Spiritually pounding on the windows of the Square Enix building- what do you MEAN I find out via YouTube that there's story cutscenes locked behind those egregious Data fights?? (That I'll personally beat... someday...)

(I also just went ahead and watched all the cutscenes for Melody of Memory, because I didn't want to play through a $60 rhythm game, sorryyy)

But first, Re:Mind and its sneaky, sneaky cutscenes...

Everything with Yozora has me Bonkers. I can't believe they've done this. Echoing Sora's first line in the series "I've been having these weird thoughts lately" through his own side of the story, him saying that he doesn't look like how he appears, the 'why do you know that name,' the "save Sora" while immediately drawing a gun on the man in question?? I'm just... *screaming noises* They're bringing everything together with the fiction versus reality stuff they have going on, and guys, I get SO excited when some games go meta. I'm squealing like a little girl; I'm ecstatic. Despite Sora being in (what I now know as Quadratum) and the background of the Yozora fight reflecting that, I can't help but wonder if it was another internal fight due to the arena switching to Sora's Heart Station for a second, akin to Roxas' fight in KH2.

And the music was so pretty... Yozora has a gorgeous theme. The prettier the battle theme, the more insane the KH fight, I say.

Also Riku was dreaming of Sora for a year. Lmao. He just... didn't say anything about it, while everyone was busting their asses. I'll be honest, literally the only way I could take that is that he dismissed his dreams as irrelevant- ah yes, dreaming of Sora? Nothing crazy to see here. Oh, Riku.

Also more importantly than Riku's angst deal- KAIRI WAS LAUNCHED INTO SPACE WHEN SHE WAS A PRESCHOOLER TO ACT AS A KEYBLADE WIELDER HOMING DEVICE, JESUS CHRIST. Kairi 🤝 Megamind 🤝 potentially Superman (I'm not a comics guy):

Getting launched out of their home planets into space in order to escape the destruction of their worlds, given vague and confusing scenarios and instructions to adapt to once they find a new planet, but they really just wanna chill and be loved and keep people safe.

And she's gonna train with Aqua! :D Another professional at getting launched into other worlds (realms). I hope she bonds with Ventus, as I've recently been made aware of their similarities in disposition, and how they are treated by others (hearts of pure light, designated by their groups as "the one who should stay home/be protected", wavering self confidence in their own abilities and self worth). Additionally, the hilarious potential scenarios of Kairi being like "yeah, and my favorite color's actually-" and Ventus interrupts with "Purple. I know," because the man essentially vicariously lived Sora's childhood. I'm super stoked for future Kairi screentime! Loved when she saw Xehanort in her memories and was like 'I don't care if you're a memory, data, manifestation of my heart or any other thing- I hate you, get out of my life forever. Hugs and kisses, die.' Like, 10/10, girl. Fair. Kairi's a volcano wrapped in a sweet package ready to snap at someone.

Riku's like "Y'know Ansem, I'm gonna miss you... 🥺"

And Sora's like "Xemnas, stooop all the violence. How can you take advantage of people with hearts? You should feel your feelings. You're valid, bestie. ☺️"

Kairi's no bleeding heart for baddies, she just wants everyone to get off her damn case, lol!

Also LOL at the fairy godmother of all people being the one to ship Riku off to Quadratum after Sora. My Cinderiku jokes (as well as my previous KH3 post's blurb about Riku determinedly walking into the ocean to find Sora) may not be completely unwarranted, now. Like, Miss 'specialty in dreams?' Miss "If you'd lost all your faith, I couldn't be here. And here I am." Not even to mention "a dream is a wish your heart makes," a very relevant lyric for this set of circumstances, if I do say so myself. I guess that's just gonna be another song I love and sing to myself that now makes me think of KH. 🤷 There's worse things I suppose, for example, like Buddy Holly being stuck in my head for three days straight and making me feel like I'm trapped listening to my uncle's records (thanks, Good Omens).

I ended up re-watching "Cinderella" for the first time in a while because of that part of Re:Mind and MoM. The KH association of the part with Fairy Godmother's appearance is now semi-heartwrenching, given the context of her appearance in "Cinderella," as well:

You have the vocalizing chorus throughout the opening of the scene acting as a callback to Cinderella's "A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes" song as well as reflecting her inner thoughts, and she has a dialogue with it while she sobs alone in the garden:

Chorus: Whatever you wish for, you keep...

Cinderella: "Oh, no... no, it isn't true."

Chorus: Have faith in your dreams and someday... your rainbow will come smiling through!

Cinderella: "It's just no use. No use at all."

Chorus: No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing...

Cinderella: "I can't believe! Not anymore..."

Chorus: The dream that you wish... *lyric trails off, unfinished*

Cinderella: "There's nothing left to believe in... nothing..."

[Fairy Godmother materializes next to her]

FG: "Nothing my dear? Oh, now you don't really mean that."

Cinderella: "Oh, but I do-"

FG: "Nonsense, child! If you lost all your faith, I couldn't be here, and here I am!"

[the violin and cello come in to finish the last part of the lyric] "...will come true."

Beautiful scene, really. The chorus assisting the animation is delightful... I watched Bambi and Lady and the Tramp (Bella Notte <3) a lot growing up because I loved that old-timey choral work. So dreamy...

Additional funny/sweet bit: I like how Mickey was freaking out to the point of being pinned down over Riku being unceremoniously dropped into Quadratum via Fairy Godmother's spontaneity and enabling.

'You sent my son to the big city ALONE?! He could get mugged, he could get lost, he could get hate-crimed, he could-'

*jump cut to Riku, and he's trying to gauge the value of Earth Money by spying on hot dog stands. He sheds his first known tear of the series by trying to figure out public transit routes*

Anyway, in the words of Cid:

"But what happens next?!"

#kingdom hearts #kh3 #melody of memory #kh3 remind

[transmutationisms]

I apologize if there's something already on your blog about this and I didn't find it, but I was watching tailgate party and realized that Shiv had spent the entire episode pacing around one apartment complex 6000 steps over and that the Roys do this a lot.

My memory of the last few seasons is fuzzy (<- binged it before and now doesn't remember shit) but I feel like the Roys spend a lot of time in very large, usually open spaces, with wide walls and tall ceilings, and usually ones we've seen before or are expected to see again and that a lot of important scenes happen *outside* of these spaces. Important meaning either big moments or iconic ones or sometimes just transitonary. Kendall had his Next-Jesus moment out in the ocean, Tom started throwing water bottles in that cramped ass escape room or talked about his marriage out on the beach, the entirety of Kill List happens outside of ATN offices, Logan meets Mattson for the first time on a personal island, Roman went to a random one story office environment for a fucking business school and was never the same character (well. compared to S1 Roman) again, they have that reverse Jesus thing over cruises on a cruise ship, etc. I feel like plane scenes could both fit into this or break it depending on the season but at least for other scenes I feel like there's a pattern here.

Outdoor spaces or parts where they actually put their shoes outside onto sidewalk always feel semi important to me but it doesn't even have to be outdoors specifically. Like, even just the honeymoon suite was different enough from every other building we'd seen the show have, and that's when Shiv admitted to cheating!

Do you think there's something to this, or do you have your own thoughts? I'd be interested to hear more if only to appeal to my ego ;-). There's other things that could connect to this like the grey-white-brown-dark blue color palette damn near every scene is in vs. scenes with real color inside of them and Kendall's asking why Sophie was "on the street" being indicative of how he thinks she should be raised (based on how he was raised and also how he can recognize the manipulation and abusive inherent to his father's parenting but not the more subtle isolation and neglect) and the fact the Roys are literally running an actual rat race while trapped inside Waystair Rocyo 1/2 the time but I have to stay focused on one thing when I write shit down even if I'm connecting dots in my head or else this ask won't even be remotely legible.

[If you already wrote about this - sorry! I hope this makes sense. Either way, have a good night, and fingers crossed something fun happens at Logan's funeral. I still want Tom to fight someone. It won't happen but it'd be funny as hell lol]

yeah i haven't really written anything comprehensive on this, but i do think there are a few interesting points with regards to how the show uses the characters' environments. forgive me for bullet-pointing lol, maybe you can help string these things together into something more cohesive. but:

yes, the characters often spend most of an episode trapped in one location, even one building. in part i think this is a function of the presence of playwrights on the writing staff, and the way many episodes flirt with the three classical unities of tragedy writing (time / place / action). so, lots of episodes are 1 day only, or 2 or 3 max, and often a character will be mostly confined to one location during that span. in part this helps make each individual episode really tight internally, but it also contributes to that persistent sense that the characters are trapped (within their circumstances, company, family, etc)

indoor vs outdoor is an interesting thread. one thing that has always stood out to me is that the show has a tendency to use natural sunlight not as refreshing, enlightening, etc, but as blinding, overwhelming, and even dangerous. the sun almost kills logan in s3, there are those shots in 2x10 and 3x09 where everyone's squinting in the bright light, there's a similar effect in 'austerlitz', etc. this contributed to the overall sense of discomfort that the roys experience, despite all their material luxuries; it also contributes to the sense that nature and the natural world is an alien, external force that appears threatening—this sense also comes out in all of the animal metaphors they use, which emphasise the brutality they see in the animal kingdom and in nature generally

if we're talking places, i also must bring up the presence of bathrooms on the show. these are quotidian rooms, but also dangerous ones, in the sense that they exist to purge a civilised society of its filth, and the whole process tends to be marginalised and wilfuly ignored. so, i've always liked that succession has a lot of scenes set in bathrooms, and often characters are able to speak differently in the bathroom—sometimes more intimate (kendall and stewy, tom and logan in 3x05), or more direct (greg and logan in 2x08), or they're allowed to say things they couldn't elsewhere (roman and mencken). bathrooms are also sheltered personal spaces, where the characters can retreat and hide (kendall using them to do coke, shiv practicing a smile in 1x02, greg rehearsing his congressional testimony)

the waystar offices obviously have that very 21st-century glass-and-steel aesthetic that telegraphs new money, a certain neoliberal attempt at severance from systems of social and cultural meaning-making, etc. so, moving the characters to other locations is effective because, in contrast to the kind of soullessness of the waystar building, it makes the other places stand out and emphasises the meaning we can glean from the sets alone (like, the gut-punch of dodds's house in contrast to the sort of corporate default)

in regards to the idea of control and confinement within luxe spaces—yes, this is clearly something we see many of the environments convey (the ultimate expression of this being the anti-suicide wall that logan puts up to pen kendall in). this is really a discrete material expression of how waystar operates in a broader sense, constraining people whilst appearing to create more options and more freedom (also a basic characteristic of neoliberal modes of production, lol)

again i'm not sure i have a thesis statement here unifying all of these observations lol. but i do think the show does well at using its environments and settings to tell us a lot about the characters, the company, and the broader world they inhabit.

[cherry-velvet-skies]

It is time for the finale of the Beatles Era Ratings series ❤ This series was so fun I don't want it to end lol

Episode 4: Paul McCharmly 😁 And as of now all four parts are available in my Masterlist if you haven't seen the others 🥰

Archie Comics Character (Pre-Beatles Era)

Tell me he doesn't look like a 50s/60s cartoon character

Simultaneously looks 18 years old and 8 years old this kid's a fucking wizard

He has the vibe of those people who seem super cool but talk to them for too long and they get real annoying real fast

4/10 his only skill is his seemingly endless inventory of cheesy pickup lines

Petulant Schoolboy (1962)

Resting Pout Face ™️

There is a certain level of entitlement radiating from this image but we don't have time to unpack all of that

Looks the same as practically every other kid his age but still thinks he's the best looking one

5/10 is cute until he opens his mouth

Undercover Ken Doll (1963-66)

His appearance has not changed since the beginning of the Beatles

Looks identical to his Beatles cartoon counterpart and no I'm not wrong

This man is one minor inconvenience away from throwing a full-blown tantrum

6/10 though I'd be lying if I said I didn't find him the least bit adorable

Teen Caught With Fake ID (1967)

Never have I seen a real mustache look so fake in my entire life

When people who work at convenience stores tell stories of underage people who come in trying to buy alcohol, this is the people that come in

He's 25 and he looks 15 I hate it here

3/10 maybe next time don't let your LSD trip determine your facial hair pattern

Understandably Conceited (1968)

Very similar to Undercover Ken Doll but there is something different here. Something...better

Beautiful and he knows it

His eyelashes are longer than mine what the hell am I doing wrong

9/10 he's a 9 but he gatekeeps his skincare routine

McBeardy (1969-70)

Jesus Christ do I even need to say anything

The only other exception to my "I hate beards" rule

The mustache cannot stand on its own it must be accompanied by the beard

1000/10 I want him to fuck me just so I could forget about my problems for a while

No (1971)

How did we go from McBeardy to t h i s

You really thought that having beard hair longer than the hair on your head was a good idea? I think the fuck not, James.

Every time I think about Paul's style evolution I desperately try to delete this one from my memory

0/10 I actively despise this

Hot Dad at a Pool Party (1972)

Well at least the beard is gone

The title is exactly what I mean. I have no other way of describing this look

His hair is a little shorter than I feel is the ideal length for him but it's not bad

7.5/10 it's enough to make me have a crush on him, but it would be nothing more than that

Baby's First Mullet (1973)

Looks cute but also concerningly sexy

I hate that I like this but then again rockstar mullets are different than regular mullets so I have nothing to be embarrassed about

His eyes are so big how does he do that

9.5/10 if I saw him at a club I would definitely wanna sleep with him

The Eighth Circle of Hell (1974)

And we're back here again I am in AGONY

The trainwreck of a mustache ON TOP OF THE MULLET? I am at my fucking limit.

This is the face of a man who has done his fair share of cocaine

12598347/10 I had it at a 2.5/10 at first and the only reason I changed it is because there is some sick twisted part of me that's attracted to this and maybe that's why I'm so angry about it. I thought about my rating overnight and ended up having a dream that we fucked and he looked like this and it was so hot. My affinity for skrunkly men is one that both comforts and deeply disturbs me.

Mullet Yoyo (1975-78)

No matter how long or short the mullet got it never left

At least the mustache is gone I can't take having to face my most embarrassing turn-ons anymore

To be honest he somehow looks more unhinged with just the mullet

7.5/10 my brain doesn't like it as much without the facial hair oh my god Cherry what the FUCK is wrong with you

Intermission (1979-80)

It's not that I don't like this. I just really have nothing much to say about it

Sort of a middle ground in between the chaotic energy from the 70s and the dilf energy of the 80s

He looks handsome I'll give him that

7/10 I certainly have nothing to complain about

Give My Regards to Dilf Street (1981-85)

Oh shit here we go

His hair got longer and none of us knew how to act

When I say I watch the Broad Street movie for the plot, this is the plot

3000/10 this man is a frequent visitor of my sexual fantasies

Warden at Horny Jail (1986)

I'm- 🥴

Nobody talk to me

This is the epitome of dilf energy it's not even a competition

36459871/10 please just fuck me already

Questionable Choices (1987-88)

He cut his hair I am in shambles

Paul why

He doesn't look bad but obviously the long hair is way better

5/10 I don't hate it but my heart belongs to another

The Swan is Gliding (1989-97)

The dilf haircut is back thank god

Paul you have redeemed yourself

He looks unbelievably sexy but for some reason it's missing something that he had in '86 and I don't know what it is- oH MY GOD HE DYED HIS HAIR THAT'S WHAT IT IS

1000000/10 it's still one of my faves but COME ON PAUL YOU'RE A DILF FOR GOD'S SAKE YOU NEED TO EMBRACE YOUR GRAY HAIR YOU'RE A SILVER FOX BABE PLEASE

Time Traveler (1998-2003)

He started looking real old real quick

But of course I will not be harsh with this era because I know it was a super tough one for him

I know all too well that when you're super stressed out, your appearance is the furthest thing from your mind

5/10 honestly he just looks like a typical guy in his sixties so there's nothing to bash anyway 😊❤

Lead Role in a CBS Crime Drama (2004-10)

This pic just gives me NCIS/Criminal Minds cast photo vibes idk

Again I mean this in the best way possible but he looks like just some guy and there's nothing wrong with that

A suit will always be sexy to me though

8/10 I have a certain appreciation for this one

Main Character Energy (2011-16)

This era of Paul was the moment

His hair is longer again and yes I do think he looks very sexy

A majority of the music he released in this era is just *chef's kiss*

10/10 this photo is from the promo for the NEW album which fucking slaps btw it's honestly one of my favorite albums from his solo career

Hey Grandude (2017-19)

I'm sorry I just had to name it that I think him using it for a children's book title is too cute

The gray hair is coming back and I very much do think it suits him

This is not so much "just some guy" but more like "a guy who aged beautifully"

9/10 if you told me he was approaching 80 years old I would not believe you

Eternal Rockstar (2020-Present Day)

Oh my god shUT UP

I have to say dilf. Do I have to say dilf? I feel like I have to say dilf

Don't dye your hair anymore babe you don't need it

10000/10 I had to choose this photo it taunts me too much 🥵

#1974 gave me an existential crisis that i would like to never experience again dear lord #I saved Paul's for last because I knew it was going to cause me the most emotional damage #Out of all things I had to prepare myself for...having to accept the fact that I'm down bad for an 80 year old man was not one of them #paul mccartney #james paul mccartney #the beatles #beatles #george harrison #ringo starr #john lennon

[ask-the-pale-elf]

This is to the mod. I forgot to say this way earlier and kept putting off actually doing it cause bad memory and brain being weird, but I adore how you write/interact as Astarion! You don’t try and push his response to lean in favor towards things he wouldn’t normally respond that way to, such as, for example, my first ask! You have him still with his own personal thoughts and characteristics, being true to how he is without trying to push towards what would be considered a more ‘favorable’ response! I love how you captured his character and portray him and have him be true to himself instead of trying to force things! I don’t really know if this makes sense, but hopefully it does?

And really, please don’t worry about updates and such on this blog when irl things are getting in the way or are demanding predominance. You have your own life outside of the blog, out side of offline, and you chose to create this blog so you could do/share your enjoyment of bg3 and Astarion with others. You don’t owe anyone an apology for irl stuff getting bad or stressful, you run this blog in your free time, you are by no means obligated to answer asks or do anything you don’t want to or don’t have the time or energy to. Thank you for creating such a lovely blog and for portraying our beloved pale elf so well!

- Starlight

Hi it’s Ghost here, and omg you’re making me melt. You’re making a lot of sense, I get what you’re trying to say and thank you so much for saying that. I’m always a bit hesitant when roleplaying Astarion since he is a complicated shithead and his actions and words reflect that. And as much as I’d like to give people a favorable response, it just wouldn’t be him at all. It doesn’t feel right, and yes he’s a fictional character and he’s not real but… he’s spent so much of his life not being able to be himself and acts a certain way to be favorable to others. So I guess I’m trying my best to honor the character in a small way, although I don’t blame people writing him to be more favorable. He is a dickhead. Like that’s the point but Jesus, I’ve yelled at my computer screen so many times because of the things he’s disapproved of or the shit he does.

Aren’t I a lovable little scamp?~

*sighs* His character is complicated, it isn’t nice, it isn’t easy, and it most certainly isn’t static. The reason why I love his character so much is because it hits so close to home and it feels so cathartic to watch him in action. I won’t get into here or at least not now, but Astarion makes me feel seen and that I don’t have to be a good person in order to heal. That being said his story serves as a cautionary tale about perpetuating the cycle of abuse, it’s utterly beautiful. He’s constantly shifting despite his stubbornness and flirtatious facade, which is what I’m hoping for in my portrayal of Astarion. I have to rewatch a lot of scenes and listen to his lines a lot just to get the character just right. I’ve roleplayed Astarion in a few voice call sessions with my friends actually, and it’s really fun! Sure I don’t have Neil Newbon’s wonderful accent and the picture perfect voice for him but it doesn’t matter, its the energy and feeling that does. And I read out my dialogue for these asks out loud in my Astarion voice lol, it’s not a good imitation by any means but it’s just my take on the character.

I’m constantly in awe of not only Neil Newbon’s performance but also the writers, the modelers, the artists, the directors, and the entire ensemble that all came together to create our favorite vampire spawn. Honestly it feels so surreal to have a character like Astarion in the world, but I hope there are many others that touch my heart this deeply like he did.

Don’t say that darling, as if they could ever compare to me.

Of course, you’ll always be my favorite. But one thing that always gets me is what Neil Newbon says about playing any of his characters, “I think the main thing is to not to judge a character, I don’t judge a character in good or bad terms. I don’t have villains or heroes, I play characters that are very complicated and have needs and wants and obstacles… You can’t judge the characters, you have to love them, support them on their journey even if you as a human being would never choose that. You have to honor what their story’s about, what their decisions would be based on what the amazing writers have done… you just have to love and support them and hug them through their journey without stopping them, you know?”

And we all know that Astarion needs all the hugs he can get. He’s very lovable even when he thinks that he isn’t. I want to have Astarion be a bit more vulnerable in future ask responses but at the same time, it really depends on the relationship because his whole arc is a slow burn for a reason. It’s literally like pulling teeth to get him to talk about and confront his feelings and issues. Trust me I’ve tried.

You hear a little scoff in the background.

Anyways if you’ve read all this, thank you. As you can tell, I think about Astarion a lot and I’ve always wanted to make an rp blog so I decided eh what the hell, let’s make an Astarion one. I’m blown away by how many of you like my posts and keep coming to see my take on Astarion. I deeply appreciate it and thank you for understanding. Yeah a lot of stuff is happening irl so responses won’t be as quick as I’d like them to be but hopefully it’ll clear up in the future. Because I have a few things planned including a fic that I’ve been thinking about for a while.

#my darling starlight #astarion rp #astarion roleplay #ghost’s ramblings

[wren-kitchens]

all that matters (p2)

inspired by @fire-to-embers ‘s reblog of my last rancher duo ficlet (I forgot to give it a title lol-)

I thought it was such an amazing idea, I just had to do it

the moment jimmy opened his eyes and found himself back in the mesa, he knew he had to find tango again.

he’s spent two days holed up in his house, only leaving to feed the animals, researching ways to travel across worlds. eventually, he found a way to use the portal technology to travel across worlds— thanks to the local archeologist, pixlriffs.

he’d been studying portals for a little while as a hobby (a hobby??) and apparently heard about jimmy’s research and decided to help.

so now jimmy has most of the materials he thinks he needs. he doesn’t know where it’s going to open— he just knows it’ll be where tango is. he has the blackstone, the diamonds, the soil for the soul fire, but he’s missing the final thing: a skulk catalyst.

no way is he going into the deep dark— him dying wouldn’t do anyone any good— so he travels to the man he has heard is the collector of the server. surely he’d have one.

“i’m sorry, you want a what?” scott says, hands on hips and looking slightly distastefully at jimmy’s clothes (which he hasn’t changed out of since his reappearance in the mesa).

“look, I know.” jimmy pleads. “but I really need one. I don’t know who else to go to.”

“why would you need something like that?” scott asks. “are you making a farm or something? ‘cause in that case you should talk to pixl about that-“

“no, it’s not a farm.” jimmy says. how is he gonna explain this? “it’s.. a portal. but not to another dimension. to another world.”

scott blinks. “you lost me.”

jimmy exhales, hoping the memory barriers between worlds aren’t as strong as they seem. “i’m looking for tango.” he says.

for a moment, he thinks scott doesn’t remember. then his face shifts from a blank expression to one of understanding. “oh. you mean-“

“yes.” jimmy cuts him off, not wanting to hear it. “yes and I need the catalyst to finish the portal. do you have one?”

“i can get one.” scott says. “for a price. what do you have?”

jimmy knew this was coming, so he pulls out the bundle of all his remaining diamonds. the ones for the portal are at his base. “all of these.” he says, watching the look of surprise and greed flash in scott’s eyes. “for one catalyst. and I need it soon.”

“done.” scott reaches for the diamonds, but jimmy pulls them away.

“after you get me it.” he says.

scott shoots him a scowl. “fine. give me a day.”

“a day?” jimmy exclaims.

“well i’d prefer not to be killed by the warden.” scott says. “i’ll set off now, how ‘bout that?”

“deal.” jimmy says resentfully.

he gets back onto his horse as scott gets his armour sorted and rides back to tumble town. he could use the extra time to make the portal, he supposes.

—-

tango is frantic. he cannot find any way to bypass the boundaries of the world. doc is too busy with his farms to pay any attention to him, and he can’t even get to ren, what with his new bodyguard bdubs.

he’s been trying to find something, anything that might get him through the borders of their world, when he stumbles across the Entity.

of course: grian would know. how had he not thought of that before? he created the life games, and the Entity, he knows this kind of stuff.

he grabs his elytra and flies as fast as he can to grian’s base.

“grian!” he yells as he lands. “grian where are-“ he cuts himself off with a scream, as when he steps into grian’s base, a chorus of ear-piercing shrieks go off. shriekers.

“yes!” grian laughs, punching the air. “that’s two for two!”

“oh god, what even is that?” tango asks, hand on his chest.

“oh, like, fifteen shriekers and a skulk sensor.” grian says, not moving from where he stands. “I got impulse so good with that the other day.”

“jesus.” tango breathes. “I can sympathise with him. can we talk outside? that is terrifying.”

grian grins. “sure.” he walks over to the door, setting off the shriekers again.

tango groans, clapping his hands over his ears and following softly behind until they’re out of range. “you’re incredibly annoying.”

“yes.” grian nods. “so what did you want?”

“okay, this is gonna sound weird.” tango says. “but do you know a place where you could.. I don’t know, travel to different worlds?”

grian stares at him for a second, and tango thinks he’s confused until he says, “dude I literally have one under my house.”

“you what?!” tango exclaims.

“why do you think my base can float?” grian says. he extends his wings and walks off the bridge. “c’mon!” he calls, flying down.

tango follows, gliding down after him. they come to a stop in front of a massive hole. it’s surrounded by a rock formation that is oddly familiar.

“it’s down here.” grian gestures towards the pit. “it can get kind of.. weird down there.” he warns. “stuff’s been..” he shakes his head. “it’s just weird. cool, but weird.”

tango isn’t sure if he wants to know what grian means— or if he wants to go down there at all — but it’s his only way of reaching jimmy.

“okay.” tango says after a moment.

grian looks at him, a slight frown on his face. “I think i know what this is about.”

a surge of panic rushes through tango. will grian let him go through with this? is this even allowed in the life games?

“please, i’ve gotta-“ tango starts, but grian waves his pleas away.

“i’m not gonna stop you.” he says, giving tango a grin. “i know you two got close in the games.” the way he says it makes tango’s face flush.

“yeah, well.” tango says, embarrassed. “I just- I don’t know what i’m gonna do if this doesn’t work.”

“I can help you.” grian offers. “i’ve been trying to figure out this kind of thing for a little while, and I think I know parts of how it works.”

tango starts to say something, when a loud noise cuts him off from the pit.

grian peers down. “we should check that out.” he says.

they fly down there. it’s a massive cavern, mostly lit up, with an enormous purple crack in one of the walls. it keeps shifting colours, one second blue, another pink, but overall it’s akin to enderman eyes.

“that’s.. odd.” grian is staring at the rift. “it only does this when something’s being..” his eyes widen. “oh.”

“‘oh’?” tango turns on him. “what do you mean ‘oh’?! what’s it doing?!”

grian’s eyes are fixed on something in the rift. tango follows his gaze and sees a dark blob in the mixing mass of purple.

“grian,” tango repeats, staring at the blob. it looks like it’s getting closer, and as it does, it becomes more clear. it’s a figure— a human figure. “what is it doing.”

“it only does this..” grian says slowly. “when it’s transporting something. or.. someone.”

just as the figure breaks the surface of the rift, both of their communicators buzz in unison.

<solidaritygaming joined the game>

tango doesn’t know who moves first. they both run to each other, crashing together in a messy hug. there’s water on tango’s face, and he doesn’t know if he’s crying, if jimmy is or if it’s both of them, but it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter because jimmy is here, and he isn’t leaving any time soon.

they don’t know how long passes. it could be seconds, it could be hours that they’re in the embrace. they don’t care.

tango’s face is in jimmy’s hair (is it longer?) breathing him in.

“i’ve missed you so much.” tango says.

jimmy doesn’t say anything, but holds him closer.

“i’m not going anywhere.” tango mutters into jimmy’s hair. “not again.”

“oh, god.” jimmy’s voice is hoarse. “tango.” the way jimmy says it, it’s a complete sentence. just him.

“i’m right here.” tango says. “right here.”

jimmy pulls away after a moment, taking tango in. he looks different— his hair shoulder length now, and dressed like a cowboy. there’s something that looks like skulk smeared on his face, and there’s a couple of cuts and bruises on his arms, but he looks positively ecstatic.

“you- you look different.” jimmy traces a hand down tango’s face. he might melt.

“so do you.” tango smiles. “always knew you’d be a cowboy.”

“were you inspired by the rancher?” jimmy says, fingering the skulk in his hair.

“were you?” tango chuckles.

“well, how’d you think I made the portal here?” he grins. “our local archeologist helped me out a bit. scott got the skulk though.”

“scott?” tango asks. “he doesn’t seem like the kind to go searching in the deep dark.”

“well, I payed him the rest of my diamonds.” jimmy says, but he’s not focusing on his words. a smile slips onto his lips. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are.”

tango feels his face flush. “can I kiss you yet?” he says. “I really wanna kiss you.”

jimmy laughs. “now why would I ever say no to that?”

tango leans towards him and their lips meet. jimmy pulls tango closer, running a hand through his hair, the other on his waist. tango is holding jimmy’s face in his hands. he smiles into the kiss when he feels jimmy’s wings around him, soft as ever (if slightly unkempt).

they’d later thank grian profusely for having the rift so open, and tango would explore the world jimmy came from. they’d get doc to set up inter-world communication, and the life game players would be incredibly surprised to find joel standing at 11” tall, scott in his colourful attire and lizzie as.. whatever she was.

later, there would be frequent correspondence between the two worlds, with raw material exports from hermitcraft and odd ‘magic’ items from the empires. (no one would know if these items were magic for sure, but they seemed to work as advertised and were interesting to run tests on.)

but that is for later. for the time being, tango and jimmy are back together and that is all that matters for them.

#i’m joining the war of tall joel on the side of tall joel #i’m so proud of the rift idea #rancher duo #trafficshipping #double life ficlet #empires smp ficlet #ig hermitcraft #team rancher #ranch duo

[afaramir]

Your ™ (aside from faramir obv) is how unhinged you are about denethor AND having the most correct takes abt him🧡. Oh and also oranges maybe

AAAA...THANK YOU ??? THIS KNOCKED ME FLAT like for real i cannot express how much ive been thinking about this ask all day. like i was in the grocery store thinking about it. i cant decide if it's funnier if you've been here since i was 19 and a hater and watched me have my dramatic change of heart in real time or if youre new here and don't know my tragic backstory. TO ME it's hilarious to be assigned denethor girl bc like teenage me is having a heart attack but i bear the badge with pride nevertheless <3333 and thats what we call character growth!

pj had totally got me with the mad-and-vindictive-with-despair denethor gambit for years and years but literally i started working on the faramir goes to rivendell au and thought for about two seconds about how complex both faramir and boromir's relationships with their father are and how the film changes genuinely weaken all of their characters so much and did a total 180 degree turn on a dime. by doing denethor dirty i would automatically be doing faramir dirty and then i started thinking and went hang on a second he is so complex and interesting actually. like i can't emphasize how much that was the exact logic that allowed me to achieve this development.

i mean okay LISTEN TO ME oh my GOD denethor IS a good leader there's a reason why gondor stood so long alone against the enemy and he NEARLY fucking beat SAURON in 30 years worth of head-to-head knock-down-drag-out psychic stalemate warfare and he only falls into despair when he loses both of his sons. you don't need to like him to respect the achievement!

i almost put a read more here but fuck it denethorposting on main. hit j on your keyboard or do a big scroll if youre sick of me LOL

i am very well known for going totally feral over duty vs love dynamics and that is literally what is going on between denethor and his sons. he cannot be their father and their commander at the same time and they are at war!!! being their commander has to win out above all else!!! whether any of them like it or not!!! do you know what ruthlessness means do you understand that duty wins this one.

do u guys understand that denethor and faramir are a father and son who love each other above else and yet do not like each other at all. there was a schism somewhere there along the line and love without bitterness and political sniping and ideological misalignment is a DISTANT MEMORY. No Of Course He Shouldn't Have Said He Wished Faramir And Boromir's Places Exchanged Jesus Christ No Son Should Have To Hear That From Their Father But Girl Sometimes When You're Grieving You Say Stupid Shit That You Shouldn't Have. doesn't mean you should've said it but [pippin voice] we can understand poor denethor a bit better, huh?

its just so interesting to me to think about faramir and denethor's relationship from a standpoint of like. ok listen good stewards that are not good fathers and dutiful sons who will not compromise their moral compasses for love. i don't like you and i agree with approximately 1% of everything you've said ever and your expectations of me have always been unreasonably high even when i was a child but you also are the only person who could ever understand the terrifying psychic powers that just live inside my brain and you are probably the incarnation of lordly dignity and power that i have had and i have wanted to emulate all my life and i still have the instinct to ask for your approval even if i'm going to hate what you're going to say. and when i'm dying i will call out for you. and i don't like you and your moral compass is going to get you and me and everyone in our city killed and you haven't listened to a single thing i've said since you were fourteen and i fucking hate that you're listening to and trusting the fucking wizard over me but you are my best captain and you are everything that i wished i could've been without the war and you'll never understand that that's why i pushed you so hard i just wanted you to live. and if you couldn't live at least we could die together. LISTEN i am a faramir girl until the death you all KNOW THIS BUT THESE TWO THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE- [i am forcibly yanked offstage]

#from the inbox #Anonymous #THANK YOU YOU ARE AN ANGEL!!! I LOVE YOU!!! #sorry for how unhinged this answer got ive been drinking #my friday night: totally sober sitting quietly filing my taxes. my saturday night: wine drunk denethor ranting. i am an adult #you: ur brand is being unhinged about this specific topic. me tasked with talking about that topic: sorry for being unhinged. hilarious #idk like oh my god yeah the transgender allegory of 'parent insisting their child is dead while people cry out that they're still living' #fucks crazy. i fucking love that reading. but im tired of the madman-idiot-caricature lack of textually-referenced nuance out here! #bitch king faramir and complex noble lord denethor are actually concepts that are holding hands. To Me. #also YES!!! ORANGES!!! i have an orange tattoo lol i love you i'm glad i exist. there is secret lore but i think if i don't stop talking no #everyone who follows me will explode me with their minds #i am still taking trademark asks if anyone at all has read this far LOL #long post #SORRY AGAIN LMAOOO #denethor anon #denethorposting