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katiexpunk · 6 months

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Diner Girl | Pairing Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Summary: You frequent your local dinner pretty often, not just because you love their pancakes with extra syrup, but because your best friend Sydney is a waitress there. You've heard her talk about her hot boss, Joel, every now and then but you've never had the pleasure of meeting him; that was until one morning, after getting unexpectedly laid off, you decided to drown your feels in syrup and love from your bestie. Joel offers you a job, and he shows you the ropes in more ways than one. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI Word count: ~7.3K Warnings: Pining, flirting, hard core tension, age gap (unspecified, reader is 30), 2000s style (needs a TW lol), 2000s texting, Joel is a little rough/bossy, Joel is actually readers boss, unprotected p in v (wrap it up, folks, or don't idk you're not gonna listen to me anyways), no creampie (a katiexpunk first, weird, I know), rough blow job, oral (m and female receiving) pet names, cum swallowing, praise kink, inappropriate use of syrup, one tit slap, Joel rips readers uniform off of her, readers former boss is an asshole, reader gets fired from her job, eating/references to food, did I already say flirting. Joel and reader fuck on a table in the diner. References to a health scares (for readers coworker). A bit of a dom/sub dynamic. Fluff. Porn with plot. Joel calls reader slut twice. Hilary Duff/A Cinderella Story gets mentioned, as does Jennifer Coolidge yelling for more salmon. Authors Note: The fact that I'm posting this doesn't feel real. This idea has been in my brain for so long, and I am happy and relieved to have it out in the world. Special thank you to @endlessthxxghts for holding my balls, brainstorming with me, and beta'ing this. And another thank you to @sydneyinacoma, my inspiration for readers bestie -- thank you for being my slutty, smutty, sister and for saving my ass with the first blowjob scene; I owe you one. ILY both. And to @hier--soir, Jessie, your beautiful way of storytelling inspires me and I often find myself HWJWTS (How Would Jessie Write This Smut). Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications

November 2004

The blaring sound of your alarm disrupts your slumber, and you jolt awake with a sense of urgency. Shit. You’re gonna be late. Again.

You stumble through your routine. You splash cold water on your face in an attempt to remove the pillow marks left behind on your cheek and smear on a mixture of lotion and face oil the saleswoman swears will make you look like you’re in your 20s again. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was only a year ago. You can see why she would have thought you were older as you look at your reflection in the mirror and the dim light from your tiny 1950s bathroom illuminates the bags under your eyes.

God, you’re tired. Truthfully, you’ve been tired for months now; no amount of caffeine can seem to make up for your lack of sleep due to the demands of finishing up your Master’s and your boss who keeps you late at work what seems like every night now.

You hastily get dressed and attempt to gather your thoughts. As you step outside into the cool November morning air, you bristle at the wind cooling the still-damp hairs that frame your face. You unlock the door to your beater and slip the keys into the engine. A sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach when a soft click, click, click, click noise reverberates through the air; the stubborn engine refusing to turn over.

Shit. Not again. No!

Frustration mounts with each futile attempt to bring the engine to life. You slam your palms against the cool leather of your steering wheel, a long sigh escapes your lungs and your forehead meets the top of the wheel in defeat.

You reach into your purse for your phone and quickly compose a message to your boss, explaining the situation. "Car won't start. Trying to figure it out. Going to be late. Sorry." With a sigh, you hit send, hoping for a sympathetic response.

The minutes crawl by as you anxiously await a reply. The familiar chime of your phone signals a message, and you eagerly check it. However, the words that flash across the screen only deepen your frustration: "This is unacceptable. You’ve already been warned twice. Don’t bother coming in, and consider this your termination."

The shock of the message hits you like a ton of bricks.

Sure, you had been late a few times in the past year, but you figured your staying late almost every night would make up for it. Maybe if he paid a little more you could afford to fix your piece of shit car and you wouldn’t be late in the first place.

Your eyes sting with disbelief, and your hands tremble as you clutch the phone. Anger and desperation dance the waltz in your mind as you fight to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

You sit in your silent car, the quiet sounds of morning make you feel frozen in time, unsure of what to do or where to go from here.

You look back down at your phone again and type out a quick message to your best friend Sydney.

“U working this am?” before you can even put the phone down, it’s chirping to life with her response.

“Hi babes! I am. R u?” her response reads.

You don’t want to give her the full details over text – too much to type out – and instead, you settle on a short response.

“No. Long story. Coming in 2 c u.”

“Kk! C u soon <3”

Your day was quite possibly off to the shittiest start ever, but you know there are three remedies to that situation.

Your bestie, pancakes, and syrup.

Lots and lots of fucking syrup.

++++

The early morning sunlight spills through the diner's large windows, casting a warm glow on the worn checkered tiles. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee envelops the air, creating a comforting ambiance that feels like a hug. The clinking of cutlery against plates and the low hum of conversations provide a soothing soundtrack to the chaos of your morning.

Your usual booth is taken, so you settle for a seat at the bar. The stool is a little wobbly, but you have a nice view of the bustling kitchen and the seats next to you are empty.

You watch Sydney pour a coffee refill for the older couple at the end of the bar before heading over to you. As she approaches, her infectious smile illuminates the space. Her apron, adorned with a patchwork of food stains and coffee spills, hints at the countless meals she��s already served this morning.

"Morning, sunshine! You’re here early, you miss me?” she greets, grabbing a mug from the counter behind her before placing it in front of you and pouring you a steaming cup of coffee.

You let out a little chuckle at her remark, knowing you just saw her last night.

You grab the mug in front of you with both hands, wishing you could shrink yourself and jump into the hot liquid like a hot tub; your bones cold from your long walk to the diner. Stupid car.

"No really, what’s up? Everything okay?” she asks, a hint of concern behind her words.

“Not really. My car wouldn’t start this morning again, and John fired me after I told him I was gonna be late,” you respond, feeling the warmth of your frustration beginning to build in your chest once more.

“What an asshole,” Sydney responds, “I’m sorry that happened, babe. He’s a real piece of work, you’re better off without him,” she continues.

“I guess so. But I need a job, Syd. I don’t know what I’m gonna do now,” you respond, defeated. Your cheeks begin to heat and you think you might actually cry this time. You move the menu out in front of you on the counter to the side, and Sydney picks it up and removes the pen from behind her ear.

“I could talk to Joel,” she offers, scribbling your order down on her notepad. You don’t have to tell her, she already knows what this situation calls for – pancakes with a lot of fucking syrup.

“Joel?” you ask, leaning over the counter and looking both ways before you whisper to her, “as in the hot boss you won’t shut up about, Joel?”

She lets out a little chuckle and you see a little twinkle of bashfulness in her eyes.

“Yes, my ridiculously hot, mostly unreadable, but hot, boss Joel,” she replies. “Martha quit last week, something about wanting to spend more time with her grandkids, so we’re down a waitress.”

You look at her face, pondering her offer as if you really have another option at the moment.

“He’s here this morning, he’s in the back doing paperwork – I can go grab him and have him talk to you if ya want,” she says, nodding to the woman who just sat down at the bar, giving her a soft be right there hun.

“Plus, it’ll be so fun to work together!” she says, her voice more energetic this time, preparing to go back into customer service mode.

“I – yeah, alright, yes, I’ll talk to him,” you agree.

She does a little jump and says “YAY!” and then gives you a big smile before pouncing off to greet her next customer. Where does she find the energy?

As you wait for your emotional pancakes to arrive, you cradle your mug, the warmth seeping into your chilled skin, while you gaze through the window into the kitchen. Amidst the orchestrated dance of chefs and waitstaff, there stands a figure that looks like he doesn’t belong in the greasy kitchen of a diner – a towering presence, broad and resolute. His flannel shirt clings to the sculpted contours of his muscles and the determined furrow of his brow accentuates the intensity he’s directing to the clipboard in his hand.

That’s him. That’s gotta be the ridiculously hot boss. That’s gotta be Joel, right? You feel a little tickle in your belly at the thought.

You try not to stare too much, not wanting to be obvious, but like passing a car wreck on the freeway, you can’t seem to look away. You smile at the way he bites the cap of the pen in his mouth, only dropping it on occasion to make little notes or checkmarks. As you look at him doing his work, his eyes flutter up and meet yours. And in that brief moment, you feel a connection. The corners of his lips curl into a friendly smile as he stares back at you briefly, before once again dropping his gaze to the papers in front of him. Sydney did say he was unreadable; now you see why.

Before you can process further, Sydney returns with your stack of pancakes and places them in front of you. “Thanks, can I have some syr–,” but before you can continue, she’s placing the container of the sweet liquid in front of you with a wink.

As you dive into your comfort food, savoring each bite, the door to the kitchen swings open, and Joel emerges. Tall and confident, he approaches your seat, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Of course, he would come to talk to you now, right as you have a giant bite of pancake shoved into your mouth like an animal. The cherry on top of your already shit day.

"Sydney's been raving about you," he admits, a friendly smirk on his face. "Say’s you’re lookin’ for some work,” his voice is low and even, and his eyes briefly scan over the patrons before coming back to land on your face. For as hot as Sydney has been describing him as over the past few months, she forgot to mention how fucking sexy he sounds.

You stare back at him, gulping down the remaining pancake in your mouth.

Joel's eyes are trained on your face. What he really wanted to say was Sydney’s been raving about you, but she didn’t tell me how pretty you are. That was all the more apparent to him now that he sees you up close.

“We’re down a waitress, and we could use someone with your taste in breakfast and impeccable timing, if you’re interested?” he says, watching you fidget with the napkin in your lap.

“I – yes, yes I am very interested. I’ve never been a waitress, but I have great attention to detail and I’m sure I could pick it up quickly with the right guidance,” you say, straightening your posture, attempting to look more composed than he has you feeling right now.

“Well great, we’ll have you trained up in no time,” he says, his gaze lingers on your features for a beat longer than expected before he swivels on his heels, heading back to the kitchen. However, after a few steps, he abruptly pauses, pivoting back around with a thoughtful expression, as if there’s more he wants to share.

“Oops, my bad, sweetheart. Almost forgot my manners. I’m Joel, by the way. This is my diner,” he says, gesturing with one hand as if to show the space to you like you were seeing it for the first time, before offering his large hand toward you. You meet it with your own, giving him a firm shake while sharing your name.

"Can you start tomorrow?" he asks, and you respond with a satisfied "mhmm," sealing the deal with a wink from Joel. "Great – be here around seven in the morning then, and we’ll get cha all trained up" he adds with a grin, one that teeters the line between professional and flirtatious.

And just like that, in the midst of your syrup-drenched, emotionally charged morning you let out your first real smile of the day.

So there were four remedies to your situation.

Your bestie, pancakes, syrup, and Joel.

You finish your remaining pancake, letting your mind wander off, secretly hoping Joel will be showing you the ropes in more ways than one.

++++

The next morning, you get to the diner just as the sun is starting to rise, and you can't help but draw a parallel to Hilary Duff in A Cinderella Story, except now you’re the Diner Girl.

While you may not be gliding around on gaudy rollerskates, and Jennifer Coolidge isn't screaming at you “MORE SALMON! We need more Salmon!” there's an undeniable charm to the whole scenario that makes you chuckle. The uniform Sydney handed you on your way out may not be the stuff of fairytale gowns, but the fabric that clings to your skin is a tangible reminder that you're stepping into a different narrative today, a narrative where you’re employed and your boss isn’t a total jerk.

As you step into the diner, the familiar calms your nerves a bit. Joel, seemingly in tune with your arrival, glances up from behind the counter and shoots you a playful wink. Does he wink at all his employees?

"Morning, sunshine! Ready for your grand debut?" he teases, flashing a bright smile coupled with an adorable set of dimples. You manage a shy smile in response, feeling nervous once again, but it has nothing to do with learning your new job and all to do with the beautiful man in front of you that you’ll be close to the entire day.

Joel wastes no time guiding you through the diner's rhythm. With each task, he effortlessly blends instructions with charming banter, making the learning process feel less like work and more like a shared secret between the two of you.

"Here's where the magic happens," he says, gesturing to the row of gleaming coffee machines. "And trust me, making a perfect cup is an art; takes a lot of love."

“Aren’t these like super-fast automatic coffee brewers? You just load the beans and water and hit start?”

"Alright, smartass," he retorts, a playful glint in his eyes, "Yeah, they are, but you gotta press that button with love, baby. That's what makes it good."

Your laughter harmonizes with his, and you catch the infectious mirth in his expression – one hand on his hip, the other casually resting on the counter. Your eyes trace the veins on his forearms, distinctly visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves, and you can't help but admire the effortless confidence he exudes.

“Do it with love. I understand,” you respond.

“Good girl,” he responds. “Alright, next up – silverware rollin’, ya ready?” he asks.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you reply, a playful smile dancing on your lips, as you follow him to the back of the kitchen to grab a tray of freshly washed flatware. Returning to the dining room, he leads you to an empty booth tucked away from the prying eyes of coworkers, giving you the first taste of true solitude with him all morning.

"Now, watch and learn," he says, demonstrating a silverware roll that rivals any seasoned server. "The key is in the wrist action. It's all about finesse."

You mimic his movements, chuckling when your first attempt doesn't quite match his polished technique. He leans in a little closer, his warmth and encouragement almost palpable.

"See, you've got the basics down. But let me show you a little trick," he says, guiding your hand with his own. The close proximity sends a delicious shiver down your spine, and you can't help but revel in the extra attention to detail in his guidance. As he imparts his expertise, the thought of him taking charge and instructing you in other ways goes straight to your core.

“You’re a natural,” Joel says, responding to your growing stack of rolled silverware.

"You like taking orders?" he inquires, his gaze intense as he places the second-to-last rolled set in the pile you both created, and you complete your own. The implication behind his words hits you, and your eyes widen with surprise.

"Do I what?" you ask, a hint of uncertainty in your voice, unsure if your mind has ventured too far into the realm of innuendo to fully grasp his meaning.

"Taking orders – you seem like you'd be good at it," he says, pausing deliberately, well aware that he's causing a stir within you.

"You know, from customers?" he adds with a smirk, putting you out of your misery.

“Oh. Oh – uh, well, I’m not sure, I’ve never tried it,” you respond.

“First time for everything, darlin’. We can practice. I’ll be the customer, and you can take my order.”

He flashes you a charming smile, making it hard to resist. "Alright," you agree with a shy grin, readying your notepad. You start “Good morning, Sir! Can I get you starte–”

"Now, sweetheart, we've gotta do this right – stand up now, take my order properly," he interrupts, a playful tone in his voice. You shoot him a teasing side-eye, and he smirks, attempting to hide it by bringing his hand to his beard.

You rise and straighten your apron, and turn to face him at the table.

“Good morning, Sir –” you begin again, “what can I get started for you?”

"I'll have the classic bacon and eggs, toast on the side, and a steaming cup of your finest brew. Oh, and a side of your million-dollar smile, please."

You laugh at the last part, realizing this is exactly the kind of practice you need. "Got it, one bacon and eggs, toast, coffee, and a million-dollar smile," you repeat, jotting it down.

Joel nods approvingly. "You're a quick learner. Now, let's spice it up a bit. What if I want my eggs sunny-side-up, the toast lightly buttered, and the coffee extra strong?"

You take a moment to absorb the details, determined not to miss anything. "Sunny-side-up eggs, lightly buttered toast, and extra strong coffee," you recite confidently.

Joel grins. "Not bad, darlin’ – you’re a good listener.”

“Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” you playfully retort.

You don’t see it, but Joel palms himself beneath the denim of his jeans, attempting to adjust from the growing lack of space in them.

As the morning rolls into the afternoon, you finish out the rest of your shift at the diner and make the walk back home.

As you lay in bed, you try to rationalize all of your flirting with Joel.

He’s just nice. A Southern gentleman. He’s probably like this with all of his employees.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel lies in his own bed, also attempting to rationalize all of his flirting with you. He knows it’s wrong, but that doesn’t stop him from taking his heavy cock in hand to the thought of you that night.

++++

After nearly a month of seamlessly navigating the diner routine, you've become a fixture in the cozy ambiance. The playful banter between you and Joel has escalated to shameless flirting – a subtle touch from a passed laminated menu, an intentionally clumsy moment with the cash register as an excuse to get a little closer, and the unmistakable sensation of his gaze lingering on you as you lean over to wipe down the booths.

You even find yourself yelling out “Corner!” less than you should, hoping it might lead you to accidentally bump into him.

It's not exactly backbreaking labor, though it can take a toll on you physically. But you find yourself enjoying it—the thrill of pushing through a lengthy shift, the rush that accompanies swift movements and juggling various tasks during the bustling hours, the familiar faces of regulars who now greet you by name, and the bonus of spending extra time with Sydney.

For now, it's fulfilling enough. However, the more moments you share with Joel, the more it dawns on you that, at least when it comes to him, "enough" might never quite be sufficient.

++++

You normally work M-F, during the morning shift, and you’re grateful for the extra time on the weekends. You’re starting to feel like you might not actually need that facial oil now that you’re getting adequate rest. Take that, Mary Kay.

One Saturday night, as you’re sitting on your couch watching Kill Bill, your phone buzzes with an unfamiliar number, and curiosity pulls you in. Joel’s husky voice on the line tells you who it is, but he introduces himself anyway.

“Hey, darlin’ – it’s Joel. Listen, uh, I know it’s your day off but I was wondering if you might be able to come in to work tonight?” he asks.

Without pausing to let you respond, he lays it on thick, making a persuasive attempt to nudge you into saying yes, "The other servers are all tied up, and Suzanne had to call out, something about Mike not feeling right tonight, tight chest and all, so I told her to make sure he gets checked out."

"Oh no, that's awful. Yes, yes, of course, Joel. I'll be there in 15," you reply, hearing a sigh of relief on the other end.

"See you soon," he says.

"Oh? You're coming in, too?" you ask, trying not to sound overly excited.

"Well, someone's gotta make the food, right?" A little chuckle carries through the phone.

You remember it now; he had shared with you during that first day that working in the kitchen at night was one of the reasons he decided to take over owning the diner, his decision in part was fueled by his love of cooking. “Helps me remember why I started doing this in the first place," he had said. You were listening, but you were also distracted by him fidgeting with his coffee cup, watching him make small circles around the rim of it.

++++

As the night descends, the diner transforms. The hustle of the day gives way to an intimate, dimly lit ambiance. Joel, donned in his chef's coat, greets you with a sly grin, "Well, look who's gracing the night shift. It's just you and me tonight, darlin'."

"Think we can handle it?" you respond, not really talking about the dinner rush, and he knows it.

The air crackles with sexual tension as you and Joel maneuver through the shift. The need between you two is palpable; a desire only one thing could satiate, a hunger no amount of breakfast food could resolve.

The hours tick by, and the tile inside is illuminated by the soft glow of the neon sign outside. With the last order served, you both lean against the counter, a comfortable silence enveloping you.

Joel breaks it with a casual remark, "Hungry?"

"Starving,” you respond a playful edge to your voice, biting your lip. Joel’s eyes go dark as he stares at your plump flesh.

You are hungry, but not for food.

++++

Joel guides you to the prep station for a crash course on chicken and waffles.

“Now, I know you’re a pancake kinda girl, but trust me darlin’ when I say these chicken and waffles will make you fall in love,” he says. Yeah, they just might.

Joel, sleeves rolled up and a chef's jacket in hand, hands it over with a grin that hints at more than just a cooking lesson. The oversized jacket drapes over you as he gives a quick once-over. He chuckles, “you look cute like this, sweetheart,” he says before he heads to the fridge for supplies.

Returning with a bunch of ingredients, he starts showing you the ropes of making waffle batter. "You like to cook?” he asks, pouring flour into a bowl. His hands move with ease, adding baking powder, a pinch of salt, and a dash of sugar. You crack the eggs into the mix, and he throws in some vanilla extract, giving the batter a fragrant twist.

“I mean, I don’t not like to cook, but I can’t say I’m very good at it. I think I’m better with instruction,” you answer. You notice his gaze deepen, going darker almost, as he hands you a whisk. “Mix it up then. Give it your all,” he says, and you start blending.

As you stir the batter, you sense Joel subtly adjusting his position until he's right behind you. He towers over you from behind. His arms gently encircle your body, and his backside hovers just an inch away from yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. "The secret," he murmurs in a low, almost whispered tone near your ear, "is to whisk it just enough, not too much. The air bubbles make it fluffy." His voice carries a blend of guidance and desire.

His hand moves up to sweep your hair away from your neck, causing your mixing to slow as his fingertips graze the sensitive skin. Goosebumps erupt across your entire body, and he presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

“Joel,” you whimper, tilting your head to the side, giving him more access to your neck.

“Keep mixin’ darlin,” he commands. You try, but the distraction of him on you makes you forget the simple action altogether.

You close the gap between your bodies and take a small step back so your backside is firmly pressed against him. You let out a gasp as you feel the thick shape of him on your ass. He continues to nip at your neck, grazing his teeth along the sensitive skin there. You grab the counter in a poor attempt to steady yourself, and press into him harder, and he responds pinning your hips to the counter until his growing cock is all the more noticeable.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a little hiss. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to get you alone like this – haven’t been able to get it out of my head.” A soft moan escapes you, and in the blink of an eye, his hands find your hips. Before you can react, he swiftly turns you around to face him.

“You like being told what to do, baby? I’ll tell you what to do, but I’m not gonna tell you twice,” Joel says as his large palm comes up to hold the column of your throat, his thumb just under your jaw, tilting you up to face him.

“So if I tell you to get on your knees, you’re gonna do it,” he says, voice low. “If I tell you to look at me, you’re gonna do it,” he continues, “and if I tell you to swallow, you’re gonna do it like the perfect little slut I know you are,” he says, dipping his face lower to you. You wonder if he can feel your pulse quickening under his hand, caught in a lusty daze fueled by hot breath and the sight of his blown pupils.

“Tell me you understand,” he commands, not really questioning.

“Yes - yeah, I understand,” you say, tightening your grip on his forearm, feeling the strength of his muscles still grasping you, pulling you closer to him.

You think for a moment he might kiss you, his lips barely an inch from yours, but he doesn’t.

“Good girl,” he praises, “since I know you’re so good at practicing, let’s do it again,” he suggests, releasing his grip on you.

“Get on your fucking knees, baby.”

You fall to your knees and feel the hard, cold tile against your bare calves. You position yourself beneath him and fold your hands in your lap, waiting for him to give you further instructions. He reaches down and brings his pointer finger down to lift your chin up to face him. He runs his thumb over your lips.

“So pretty like this, baby.” He thinks you're pretty.

As he releases you, you take that as permission and reach out to undo the buckle of his belt. You fumble with the cool metal momentarily, until it’s completely unbuckled before you begin to work with the zipper on his pants. You tug both his pants and his underwear down just below his hips, and his thick length springs to attention.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the size of him. He’s big. His cock is already at full attention, red and weeping. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. You look up at him, silently asking for permission to touch him, and he nods. “All yours’” he says, and your hand comes to wrap around the base of him. The thought of all of him being yours stirs something low in your belly.

Before you can put him in your mouth, he grabs your wrist to pull you back up to your feet.

“Too many clothes, sweetheart. Need to see those fuckin’ tits,” he growls, tearing your uniform off, almost bare save for your bra. You’re gonna need a new one. His eyes are glued to your chest, admiring the red bra you’ve been hiding under your uniform.

“As much as I like the way this looks on, I’d like it a helluva lot better off,” he says while hastily unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the kitchen floor. Your nipples harden in the cool air, entrancing Joel. “Gorgeous fuckin’ tits,” swatting your left one, in awe of the way it bounced on impact.

“Back on your knees,” ordering you once again. You obey without hesitation, almost automatically.

You stroke along his length, feeling the silky warmth of his skin, the heat, and the thick veins that add texture to each pass of your palm. You pause at the top of him and let out a little squeeze, until a small bead of precum forms at the tip. You lap it up, and Joel lets out a groan and his hands fall to grab the back of your neck.

“Keep that mouth wide open for me, baby.” I’ll do anything you want as long as you call me baby, you reply in your head.

You part your lips and tease your tongue around and then start sucking on the tip, slowly taking more in until you’re sucking on the full head of his cock and your tongue is whirling around it. Joel’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, and he gently cants his hips forward, urging you to take more of him.

You’re barely halfway down and the back of his cock is already on your throat. You start bobbing your head up and down, and Joel mutters a little curse under his breath and bites down on his lip.

“Such a good girl f’me, takin’ this cock down your sweet little throat,” you moan around him, the sound reverberating against him, “yeah, this what you wanted, hmm? Needed your throat fucked like a slut?”

Your thighs clench together, a syrupy mess of your own slick smears on your skin, and his filthy words add to the roaring ache in your cunt. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel as you notice him stiffen just a little more. How is that even possible?

You pick up your pace, pushing yourself to take more of him. He thrusts shallow but firmly, meeting your movements along his shaft.

“Tha’s it baby, just like that…” his groans are lecherous, coupled with the profane sounds of you gagging on his cock. You’d listen to that on a loop if you could.

He tightens his grip on your hair and pulls you off him. There will be plenty of opportunities for him to fill your mouth up, but right now, he has other priorities. He does take an extra moment to watch you wipe the saliva and precum from your mouth with the back of your hand. It’s a vulgar sight and he commits it to memory.

He helps you to your feet, and your knees on fire from the harshness of the floor. You’ll pay for it later, but for now, the soreness is a small price to pay for the exhilaration you’re experiencing with your super hot, hung boss.

Without warning, he scoops you up in his brawny arms and carries you off to the closest booth adjacent to the kitchen. With your back flat on the table, you feel the cool laminate tabletop on your skin and it adds a stark contrast to the warmth of Joel’s chest pressed against yours moments ago.

Your upper back is on the small table, leaving just enough room for your hips to slightly dangle off the edge, Joel’s hips between your legs. Your head ghosts the condiment bottles at the edge and he holds you in place there, teasing you.

He pauses to admire the way you look up at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your perky tits slightly falling to the side, a little sheen of sweat on your chest. He pauses to admire the way you still look flustered, but composed, knowing he’s going to fuck every ounce of that right out of you.

Joel wants to untangle you like a knotted ball of yarn, he wants to claim ownership of every inch of your body, and he doesn’t want to wait any longer.

He drops to his own knees this time, hooking his thumbs into your underwear to pull them down with him.. His face immediately finds your cunt, and he wastes no time before he lays a trail of soft kisses over your wet and waiting folds. He starts slow, a kiss here, a lap there, and eventually begins to pick up his pace.

He sinks a thick middle finger into you, and your hips cant up at the welcomed intrusion and your back arches, unable to stay on the table. You feel his hot breath on your cunt, and let out a small mmm at the way he presses his forearm across your lower half to lower you back down to the table, to keep you still.

His mouth returns to your clit to work you, and he adds another finger, twisting and working them both into you with precision. You’re so fucking close – your slow crawl to the cliff of your orgasm turns into a full-on sprint.

You’re so close, and he can tell by the way your body tenses under him.

“Please,” you moan. “Please – ugh, neeeeed to come, please let me come,” you beg.

“Just a little longer, baby. You can come when I say you can.” Joel says, voice slightly muffed against your wet skin.

He presses his lips against your clit, but doesn’t give you enough tongue to get you where you need to go. You’re already so swollen, sensitive – you know all you’ll need is a little suck and you’ll be gone.

You don’t know how much longer you can stave off your pleasure, but you want to be good for him, to listen, to obey.

He knows you want to come, that’s obvious, and god does he want to know what you look like when you do, to feel it, to be the reason; but still, he continues to tease and let it build. Your face twists, your jaw goes slack, and your eyes close and it all but screams I’m close, make me come, make me come.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and he grazes it with the top of his tongue and closes around you. You flutter your eyes closed. You warn him that you’re close, “Joel, fuck, please let me come. Please, please, please,” you rasp out your pleas with a symphony of moans.

Satisfied with your pleading, he decides to take mercy on you. He looks up at you through his thick lashes, drinking in the way he has you melting, the way he has you begging.

“You can come, baby. Go ahead, want you to soak my face,” he says, voice hoarse but still smooth like velvet.

You obey and feel the taste of your sweet release rush through you like a warm summer breeze on a hot day. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses with pleasure as he works you through it.

“Fuck, so pretty with you come f’me, baby. Being such a good girl, listening to my every command,” he says and lifts his head. His dilated pupils tell you he’s high on it; on you.

Your slick shines on his beard, illuminated by the atmospheric glow of the streetlights peering into the dark diner. He looks at you, breath slightly ragged, and brings his fingers to his lips to smear the remaining slick from his face onto them, and he pops his finger in his mouth like he’s savoring the last bite of the best meal he’s ever had.

“Taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby. Must be from all that syrup you eat.”

And shit, it’s filthy. He looks indecent in the most delectable of ways.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he says, grabbing his thick cock in hand and lining the head of it up against your wet and waiting hole, pausing there before pressing in. You let out a little whine.

‘Shh, baby,” he coos, “‘m gonna give you what you need, don’t worry,” he says. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, even with the size of him. Your greedy cunt taking every inch of him like it’s your fucking job, like it was made for him.

He pauses for a moment to give you a second to adjust; you feel so full, you swear you feel him in your lungs.

He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises, a wet and wanton song made as a result of your wetness keys you up.

“Fuck, yes, Joel – YES,” you cry.

“Yeah? Say thank you to me, baby. Say thank you for giving you this cock, for fucking you dumb,” he commands.

Thank you – thrust – tha - thrust – thank you, fuck, thrust.

He fucks into you so hard that your head hits the condiments, knocking them over. The ketchup bottle falls, the sugar packets scatter, and the syrup tips over. A slight ooze of the viscous substance starts to pool on the table and get into your hair, but you don’t care, this feels too good to care.

Just as you’re about to come, Joel notices the pool of auburn liquid running over the table and onto the red booth below.

“Tsk, tsk, baby – makin’ a mess – creaming on my cock, and spilling syrup on the floor,” he says, continuing his pace. You feel your walls clench around him. Just as quickly as he entered, he retreats, and you whine at the loss. “Get up,” he says.

You do as he says and rise onto your legs. They’re shakey like Jell-O. You watch as he reaches over the table and grabs the sticky glass bottle from the table.

“On your knees again,” he asks of you for the third time tonight. You pause, your body sore and your knees aching. “You hear me, baby? I said get on your knees.”

You do as he says, and kneel before him, once again worshiping at the altar of the man above you.

You look up at him with bated breath and watch him use his free hand to rip off his shirt and throw it onto the booth beside him.

“Come closer,” he says, “and open,” you kneel before him with your mouth open, your inviting tongue waiting to be used. He uses his hand to grab the base of his heavy cock, and he taps it on your widespread tongue a few times before holding the syrup bottle high in the air, centering it above his cock and your open mouth.

You watch with wide eyes as he tips the bottle over just a smidge, and a long, thin, sticky stream of syrup begins to rain down onto his hardness, falling off the sides of it, down to the floor, and all over your chin.

“Clean me up, baby,” he says, and your lips close around him. You begin to suck and lick every inch of him, savoring the golden liquid that creates a tantalizing mix of sweetness from the sugar and salt from his pre-cum. You hum as you work him, savoring every bit, and eventually, the skin on his cock is syrup free and you take him at a more consistent pace. You hear Joel groan, and it encourages you to take him deeper, harder, faster.

You look up at him through wet lashes, tears forming in the corners of them, as he holds your now sticky hair into a makeshift ponytail and uses your mouth.

“Such a good hole for me,” he says, “so fucking good, baby, you’re so perfect.”

You let him chase his high, and open wider when you see his jaw tighten and his tight core tense, the grip on your hair pulling tighter.

“You’re gonna swallow,” he says. “All of it,” he commands, and his jaw goes slack and he releases a rush of warm cum down your throat. It tastes musky, but a little drop of syrup you missed during your cleaning job makes it sweeter.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he says, panting heavily, holding you on his cock as he throbs out the final pumps of his release.

He lets go of your hair and you pop off of him and use your fingers to clean off the rest of the syrup from your chin and smile up at him. God, you must look like a wreck.

He extends out his large palm in a gesture to help you off the floor. As you rise to stand, his fingers find the underside of your jaw and he tilts you up to look at him.

He looks at you, the darkness behind his eyes has been replaced with someone else; pride.

“You really are a good listener, baby.” He says. He gazes down at you, his thumb delicately tracing the contour of your jaw. This moment feels significant.

Leaning in, he tenderly places his lips on yours. The sensation takes your breath away, and as he intensifies the kiss, you willingly welcome the exploration of his tongue, relishing the warmth and savoring his taste. Tonight, you've experienced every other aspect of him, but in this moment time seems to stretch as your lips remain locked.

As he breaks the kiss, a contented smile graces your face, and you feel as if you could float away.

“Now really, let’s eat some food,” he says, letting a low chuckle escape from his lips, “I still owe you some chicken and waffles.”

“And you owe me a new uniform,” you say, grabbing his hand to follow him to the kitchen, totally naked.

Joel actually teaches you how to make the meal this time. He offers you another chef's coat to cover your body, but he doesn’t let you keep it on for long. As your breakfast-dinner cooks, he hoists you up on the counter and eats you again. He makes you orgasm more times in one night than you think you ever have with any of your previous partners.

You were right in your initial thinking. Enough will never be enough when it comes to Joel.

You’ll always want more.

More of this, and more of him.

And the one thing that’s the most certain is that you’ll most definitely want more fucking syrup.

Good thing you work at a diner.

END

Bonus Drabble Coming Soon: How will Sydney react when you tell her about your steamy night with Joel?

Tagging moots and those who showed interest in the preview: @nosesitter @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @lovebandrry @dugiioh @frodo-jojo @ghostwritesthings @planet-marz1 @josephquinnswhore @cinnamon-gurlll @dragonfire @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @darkheartgatita @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @dins-riduur-anthe

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #syrup #early 2000s #pedro pascal

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cobragardens · 8 months

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CORRECTED & UPDATED Clothes + Equivocation = Romance: The Husbands in 1793 (Part 2)

From Part 1:

Crowley and Aziraphale share clothes as a common interest. They don't have the same style, but they're both aware of current fashions, and Heaven and Hell aren't. You can't tell me Hastur or Uriel would recognize the significance of Crowley saying "Dressed like that, he's asking for trouble" about someone else while wearing black stockings and cravat and waistcoat himself. And that means Anything the husbands communicate to each other through clothing choices goes undetected by their masters.

SO. With all this in mind, let's go through the 1793 scene again and look at what the husbands communicate to each other without using words or actions to do it, and how their clothing choices help them do that.

Hello. I'm here and I know you're in a spot of trouble. I like you.

It's you! I'm so happy you're here!

Sheen's voice and face when Aziraphale says Crowley's name in this moment makes me think that Aziraphale is in love with Crowley--the demon Crowley, not the angel who became Crowley--long before he consciously realizes it in 1941. The way Sheen has Aziraphale say Crowley's name is so soft.

The way you're he way you're lounging there and what you're wearing are uncomfortably sexy and also incredibly inappropriate for the Bastille at this moment in history. I suppose this is very on-brand for you.

Crowley: I listen when you talk about your interests and goals and keep track of your general whereabouts and pursuits.

Either they've spoken with each other recently or Crowley has been keeping tabs on Aziraphale. Aziraphale isn't upset that Crowley knows what he's been up to, which suggests the former, which in turn suggests they're in semi-regular (every few years or decades) contact at this point.

Also we've now got a general idea for when Aziraphale opens his bookshop.

Okay, brief tangent while I point out two things here.

One, my favorite thing about Aziraphale is that he is a sensualist. This is libertine behavior, y'all. He 'popped across the Channel' during the Reign of Terror because he wanted a specific carnal experience of a specific really lovely food.

And two, even when Aziraphale does weird, frivolous, silly, ill-advised things like this, things that clearly baffle Crowley...Crowley never makes fun of him. He never laughs at him. He always has this look of disbelief on his face, like Am I hearing this?--

--but Crowley never, not once, shuts Aziraphale down.

Until Aziraphale asks him to go back to Heaven.

Anyway. Back to our scene.

Aziraphale: I am unwilling to abandon my sartorial sensibilities even when it threatens my corporation, and I am insane, so I think this is reasonable. At least I'm not wearing a Slutty Monarchist outfit.

You're happy to see me, aren't you. You're relieved to see a demon. Go on, say it.

Tennant's delivery of this line cracks me up. It is so gloating and flirtatious and smarmy and indulgent of Aziraphale.

I am very happy to see you and lucky you're here, and I am willing to say so sincerely even though you are gloating about it.

And then there's the exchange where Crowley very carefully doesn't answer Aziraphale's question about why Crowley's in the area but also reassures him that he didn't cause the French Revolution and Aziraphale can still like him.

We can't speak openly about this. It's dangerous for me.

Message received: I won't mention what you did again. But I want to show my gratitude and spend time with you; is it safe for us to get lunch together?

Yes, but one of us is going to have to change so we can walk the streets of Paris without getting arrested again, and I'm the one doing the rescuing here so it's not going to be me. Your 'standards' will have to take the hit.

Fine, you've got me over a barrel. But hey, if I have to wear the silly hat anyway I might as well go all the way and wear your colors. Except not monarchist. And not slutty.

Oh, I don't know, I thought you looked pretty slutty too. (Meaning 2) I'm having this guy killed for touching you, btw. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. I see you are having the guy who assaulted you killed in a copy of the clothes he would have killed you for wearing. I wholeheartedly approve of this (Meaning 3), your sexiness in those clothes notwithstanding. The utter insouciance of Crowley's little sniff and the inquiry about what they'll have for lunch drive home hard that Crowley could not be more unbothered by Aziraphale having the man who tried to harm him beheaded.

What really tickles me about this line is not only that Crowley's joke has three distinct meanings, but that Meaning 1 (the meaning that exists without reference to Crowley's clothes) is the opposite of Meaning 3--Anybody wearing clothes like that deserves what they get (Meaning 1) versus It rocks how you just killed someone who tried to kill you for wearing those clothes (Meaning 3)--and yet because of the clothes he's wearing, both meanings come through with perfect clarity, dependent only on whether the listener(s) can see his clothing and know its significance. Aziraphale can, and does, so he receives Crowley's real meaning. Hell/Heaven can't, and don't, so they just hear Meaning 1.

And then we get Aziraphale's pleased little smile and look of tranquil interest as he watches Jean-Claude dragged off to his death. Its such an interesting facial expression for an angel watching a demon have someone killed having someone killed, isn't it?

Crowley has just told him they're probably being listened to by Hell. That means Aziraphale, Crowley, and the audience all know this is the most Aziraphale can safely react. Aziraphale can't show any overt approval of anything an agent of Hell does, because by definition anything a demon does is demonic and angels must be against That Sort of Thing. In light of the fact that Aziraphale is the one who causes Jean-Claude's death, I now argue that this responsibility not to react too positively to something the other side has done falls on Crowley, and that the reason he makes this joke is primarily to tell Aziraphale I see what you've just done, and I like it without identifying aloud what exactly has just happened for their presumed eavesdroppers because an angel arranging a human's murder is the sort of thing in which head offices might take undue interest.

The awareness that their conversation is not private means the audience and Aziraphale know they need to be watching and listening for multiple meanings from Crowley, and it also means the audience and Crowley know we need to be watching Aziraphale's face closely right now. And that little smile shows us that Aziraphale has received Meanings 2 and 3 of "he was asking for trouble."

Or, at minimum, Meaning 3; even if Aziraphale picks up on Meaning 2--You looked really sexy in your vintage clothes, you crazy weirdo--that's not a message he can afford to react to at all. But he does react to the other coded communication Crowley is sending when he says "Dressed like that, he was asking for trouble" while dressed for trouble himself: I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you. Immediately. People who think your clothes give them the right to hurt you can go to Hell, and I am delighted you just sent one of them there.

You just had someone beheaded for assaulting me, I acknowledge and am pleased by your delight at my cleverness. and I could not be happier. Would you like to come enjoy one of my very favorite sensual pleasures with me?

***

EDIT: To be honest I like this reading better than my original, incorrect understanding of the story despite the fact that it is slightly less romantic, both because I love the idea of Crowley as a thirsty witness to Aziraphale quietly being a vengeful badass, because it gives us a glimpse of something important about Aziraphale's character that we don't get to see elsewhere: Aziraphale doesn't have a problem with killing per se.

We learn from the business with the Antichrist that, like Crowley, Az. can't bring himself to kill children. We learn from his perturbation at the Flood and the Crucifixion that he doesn't hold with killing innocents. He gave away his flaming sword. But this scene establishes that Aziraphale will actively cause someone's death if he feels they deserve it. That seems like an important character note for him that may become relevant in Season 3 (feathers crossed that it happens).

And I think there's something else in there too, something about how Aziraphale kills Jean-Claude, not with outright violence but with a trick. One party thinks he's in control of the situation; with a wave of his hand, suddenly a turnip has turned into an inkwell an executioner has turned into the condemned--or at least it seems that way long enough to get the job done. It's a bait-and-switch, like stage magic, and it slots right in to the motif in Good Omens of sleight-of-hand, of characters wearing other characters' appearances (for more on this, see fan theories re: Maggie is possessed), of supplying false meanings to an audience to disguise the true actions going on behind the scenes.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens s2 #good omens analysis #good omens clothes #good omens costumes #ineffable husbands #aziracro #azcrow #azicrow #good omens equivocation #good omens 1984 #good omens clothing and equivocation #good omens 1793 #good omens clothes and equivocation 2

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xoxoskai · 6 months

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NIKOBRAN HEADCANNONS

to keep you going this last week before God of Fury drops<3

Between all his sons-in-law, Brandon is Kyle's favorite.

Levi's is Mia (cousin-fuckers who stole his son and daughter he'll always beef with)

Brandon and Niko are the type of relatives to wear matching clothes on Christmas because Niko would take up any chance to wear matching anything with Brandon.

If and when Brandon bakes, no one gets a chance to even taste what he made before Niko devours it all.

The only place Niko can fall asleep in at record speed is Brandon's arms.

The only reason Niko teaches Brandon how to drive a bike is so he can put his arms around his boyfriend's slutty waist boyfriend.

Remi is terrified on Brandon's behalf.

"Bran, yes, he's hot but mate, look at that guy! He has some skin on those tattoos!"

Astrid shares Remi's concerns but soon comes to find out that Niko is the biggest goofball of sunshine and almost adopts him.

Surprisingly, the one who takes the longest to accept Brandon is Rai. Because it's not her first time meeting the Kings (hello, she's a far relative) and she's worried that her oldest who is actually tender hearted and plagued by demons of his past, might be crushed beyond repair if Brandon hurt him.

Brandon and Landon think they can get away with tricking their in-laws by dressing as each other but they underestimate the Sokolov-Hunters who told them apart the moment they walked in.

Brandon tried it on Niko once when he first divulged about how Maya and Mia used to do it, but Niko could tell Brandon apart from his "psycho" brother in a heartbeat.

"It's your eyes" He had murmured. "Yours sparkle"

Glyndon is weary of Niko but as long as Brandon's happy, she's happy.

Landon is supremely unhappy.

When Landon first opposes their relationship by threatening Niko, Niko flings back "Remember who you're dating and what I mean to them" back at him.

Niko and Landon almost kill each other multiple times.

If there's someone even more unhappy than Landon, it's Crieghton.

Creighton: "Does this mean I can't fight him anymore?" Elsa: "Why were you fighting him before this?!" Creighton: "Is anyone else hearing this buzzing? I should go check."

Niko goes feral whenever he sees Brandon shirtless and vice-versa but

Niko is always shirtless, so Brandon is always suffering.

Unlike Niko, Brandon doesn't carry him into a dark corner to immediately fuck.

If there's no scene of Brandon asking Niko "Who's fucking you?" Rina, you'll hear from my therapist. And if there's not a single, evil, unhinged Brandon moment where Niko is flabbergasted at the change and is accusing him of being two-faced at which Brandon will laugh, lean in and ask tauntingly "What are you going to do? Tell on me?" I will sue.

Brandon's muse is Niko. (Bitch, I said what I said)

Unlike Landon, Brandon doesn't divulge this piece of information to his boyfriend because he does not want to give Niko even more reasons to walk around with lesser clothes.

Brandon gets a tattoo for Niko on his ribs. (cue feral Nikolai)

After which Niko tries to get Brandon's name tattooed on his favorite organ, but Jeremy literally deadlocks the door to his room to keep him inside after Niko asked for opinions in their group chat about his decision.

Niko: You don't think it's romantic? Jeremy, Killian, Gareth, Landon, Eli, Creighton, Remi:

They've definitely rolled around in paint and fucked on a canvas after it. Niko would display it in the entryway of their house if Brandon let him.

They've also joined the mile high club.

After they get engaged, Brandon calls him by his full-name as in "Nikolai Sokolov-Hunter-King" just to piss him off but Nikolai loves being associated to Brandon in every possible way, so it backfires.

Their wedding bands have each other's name inscribed in them.

As does the underside of their ring fingers in the other's handwriting.

Nikolai tries drawing a heart over the i in his name and almost gets smacked.

#legacy of gods #nikolai sokolov #brandon king #nikolai x brandon #nikobran #god of fury #god of malice #god of pain #god of ruin #god of war #eliava #eli x ava #eli king #landon king #jeremy volkov #creighton king #mia sokolov #maya sokolov #cecily knight

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 2 months

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Quarter Final One

Propaganda...

Edward Ferrars (1995) :

Edward gets a bad rap because he's quiet and the whole lucy steele situation but he doesn't get enough credit for how honourable he is! It's easy to have honour when it costs you nothing he knows he'll be miserable with lucy but he knows it's the right thing and to do so he sticks to his guns and does it anyway despite the opposition from his family and to me that is hot! Also yes he makes mistakes but his family are vile - he grew up with Fanny and Robert and is still a good man! Also he looks like hugh grant and plays fun games with Margaret and he understands Elinor in a way no one else does - Hot!Hot!Hot!

youtube

Mr Darcy (1995) :

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

GIF by sunsetboulevards

Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

GIF by jaeausten

The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

GIF by didanagy

Fencing? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

GIF by didana

Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

youtube

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

youtube

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

youtube

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

youtube

Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #quarter-finals #edward ferrars #mr darcy #sense and sensibility 1995 #pride and prejudice 1995 #pride and prejudice #sense and sensibility #hugh grant #colin firth

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bucknastysbabe · 11 days

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Rating: Explicit

Tags: Taken from this fic, pwp, secret romance, oral (both receiving), Criston’s delulu mindset, jealousy, Princess just loves knight Dick she can’t help it, he’s a slutty baby per usual

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @arcielee @elaratyrell @fairysluna @jamespotterismydaddy @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @starogeorgina @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

Criston was complaining quite ardently again. “Just shut up, shut up,” she hissed, eyes casting back toward the shut door. The princess readjusted herself on a steel-plated chest. Her Valyrian eyes cast down at the Kingsguard. His eyes were wet and wide— perfectly pathetic.

The pair made a scene on the stone floor, shamelessly open in her shared chamber with Prince Aegon. The siblings were lawfully wedded but she just couldn’t quit her sweet Criston. He would never quit either, one would have to kill the man before he let go of his favorite princess. His hands bunched the thin material of the younger’s shift.

“I don’t like how he’s been sniffing around. Why does it matter who you bed? Aegon fucks about the entirety of the Street of Silk.”

She rolled her eyes and pet at Criston’s curls, “All you men are the same, jealous and egotistical, ruled by your cocks. You’re pissed that he’s pissed. Make it make sense. Are you going to eat my cunt or not?”

Criston’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking to the side a couple of times as he petulantly looked for an answer. His calloused hands dug into her hips as he mumbled, “Yes- get up here.” The knight absently wondered if he was being too needy, cheeks darkening in response.

Her pretty lips curled up as she readjusted her place, seating herself on gorgeous godsdamn lips. No, she thought, she couldn’t do without him. The young woman did love Criston Cole fiercely. She gathered her shift and took it off, exposing her tits and bare skin.

She could feel Criston groan, the shifting of his armor as he fucked up into nothing. Ser Cole gripped her ass and thighs as he began to lap and work himself between her legs. His tongue twisted and jabbed, Criston moaning in delight.

The princess grabbed his hair and gasped as she canted her hips. His perfect nose bumped against her clit as she rode Criston’s face. She whined at the sinful stimulation, both hands anchored in dark hair. The knight had his feet planted, eager to please.

Criston’s hands slid up her waist, thumbs caressing the bottom of her breasts, where the skin was silky soft. The blonde breathed as she rocked, “Criston, my s-sweet, so good.” Ever the slut for praise, the marcher helplessly whined into her cunt, suckling harder at her slick. His palms enveloped the Targaryen’s breasts.

She threw her head back as Criston groped and massaged the flesh— even playfully bouncing them. The princess smacked his flank and kept riding, dragging her aching bundle across his handsome face. He tweaked at a peaked nipple. Everything was perfect, even Criston’s stubble rubbing her sensitive skin raw.

The princess keened and tossed her head back.

Criston’s chest hitched, his armor clacking as he earnestly let his goddess do as she pleased. His cock was fit to burst under the layers. He wanted her mouth regardless of the time limit with Aegon’s recent tomfoolery. He slurped at her sweet cunt, fingers tugging at engorged nipples.

She clenched around Criston’s face, mouth hanging open, platinum locks shaking. The little princess trembled and rocked her hips in jolts of excitement. Aegon’s wife was growing overstimulated and hot. She was unable to stop whining and biting down on her lip to keep from howling in pleasure.

The marcher’s hand came down on her ass in quick succession, urging her to move faster. All she could do was cry “Please! Close! Beloved please!” Criston grinned and began to move her along himself, he had the strength for it. The heightening whimpers were music to his ears as she trembled and babbled.

One, two, three more rocks, and the princess yelled. She folded forward, hands deathly tight on Criston’s scalp. Criston lapped up her gush of juices, slurping and groaning like a damn animal at her lovely fucking pussy. He took his time licking her all up until she wheezed and pushed off.

Criston laid on his back, grinning at her mussed hair and red face, those gorgeous watery doe eyes. She murmured, “You’re…something else. Whole keep probably heard me.” The marcher scoffed even as she pressed a peck to his lips, lithe fingers crawling under his padded tunic.

Criston bit out between kisses, “Let…him..mmh…hear.”

He watched as she pulled away, just enough to tease, “Not the best idea love. Be quiet so I can suck your cock and send you off. You’re territorial and irritable with your balls full.” Criston rolled his eyes, head thudding on the expensive rug. She moved around to kneel between his legs.

The gambeson was half unbuttoned, exposing the tent in his pants. She playfully fisted at Criston’s prick, snickering at his hapless moan. He breathed in as her fingers plucked the strings open and pulled his throbbing heat out. He shivered, eyes blinking up at her. A fucking angel, goddess, something of old and ethereal.

The princess lapped at the pearly bead adorning the tip of his cock, her other hand snug around his sack. Criston gasped her name, groaning when plush lips enveloped the sensitive tip. She knew him well— had the extra skin pulled back so her devious tongue could flick at that tender spot on the underside.

“Ahhh- angel- angel,” the marcher uselessly praised.

Her spit rolled down the shaft as the princess lathered her attention on the tip, swirling her tongue around the bulbous head. Criston was whimpering softly, lips opening and closing repeatedly. He grew overwhelmed with personal attention like this— nearly always transforming into a wet mess.

He squirmed a bit, back arching into her mouth as she took him deeper, swallowing repeatedly. Criston slammed a hand over his mouth when she thumbed the seam of his sack and hummed around his thick cock. He had to keep from whining like a bitch in a moment like this. The knight preferred only his princess to see this side of him.

The thought of Aegon interfering could make his cock wilt. She was Criston’s, not the brat.

“Sweetheart, ahh- oh fuck- can I touch your hair?” He begged.

“Mhmmm,” was the reply, leaving the poor man whimpering again, the vibrations hitting everything. His lower belly twitched and tightened as he gently wound her blonde tresses in a hand. Criston looked down when she bobbed her head, growing ashamed yet hotter by the second.

He was arched and spread for her— reminiscent of some slut in a silver stag brothel. Criston covered his mouth again to hide the wanton moan, too loud for the room, too loud for much of anywhere.

Her bobbing quickened on top, one hand rolling his balls, the other jerking him off in sync with her mouth. He gasped and twitched again, feeling heat spread around his body. Criston’s balls throbbed as they tightened further and further.

He whined her name, neck straining as the orgasm climbed his body. The knight blinked down tears as he babbled, pulling ever-so-soft on the Princess’ hair. She hummed some more, flicking her tongue deep into his slit.

Criston was gone— his vision darkened as he arched painfully, gutturally groaning and whimpering as he spilled down his lover’s throat. She drank him down, eyes filled with adoration. It took a couple more spurts before he was wrung out and limp, panting.

The princess tucked him back in, buttoning and lacing quickly. She sat Criston up, pretty amethyst orbs gazing into his dark ones. He rasped while petting her flushed cheek, “I love you.” The princess, his damn woman, stole a deep kiss as she fixed his hair.

“There you go, I love you, come on now. The buffoon will be here sooner or later. Aemond told me about Aegon nosing.”

The pair helped themselves up, Criston deeply frowning. How he wanted to toss the Prince into a sewage line. He’d fish him out…but the thought was soothing. Another press of soft lips had Criston come to the present.

She looked up at him, promising, “I will see you around, go on love, I’ll be thinking of my knight.”

Criston would never admit but he was like a scolded puppy leaving the room, getting shooed until he exited, the door closing behind his white cloak. Only to make eye contact with the shithead himself.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole x reader #ser criston cole x reader #colewives join me #criston cole imagine

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notsohappynotsosad · 16 days

Text

Emperor, Stelmane and Gargauth

Sorry I haven't been posting, I got hyperfixated on this theory. Drawings will resume from now

If you’ve completed the game, there’s a chance you know of the reveal that Emperor’s previous associate, Duke Stelmane, has been in fact his thrall. Upon further inspection you may gain some seemingly contradicting information and lots of questions with no answers. This post will be long, but I promise that at the end, most of these questions will be answered. Also, there are pictures.

TLDR: Emperor and Stelmane used to be besties before he enthralled her, but they couldn't defeat Gargauth with their power of friendship.

So, for the uninitiated, what are these questions?

Firstly, when the party enters Rivington and Dream Visitor is revealed to be the Emperor, he will tell us about his life, including that he was partners with Stelmane, though he doesn’t say anything about the thrall bit of course. At this point neither he nor the party knows the Duke is dead. As far as the Emperor is concerned, what he shared might greatly compromise him and he never shares such information when he simply could’ve concealed it.

If you poke around, other questions may arise, such as why was Stelmane’s condition improving after the Emperor's visits? Why was she asking for him? Why was she excitedly talking about him at the Tavern? Why did they hug? Why was she at Elfsong, where he could find her the most easily? Why did she drink wine, which he used to force her to do? Why didn’t she warn anyone about him? Why was she looking through people before the stroke? Why would the Emperor mind control her? Why does he keep her portrait next to his desk? Is he stupid?

Now that I have you hooked (probably), let's introduce our cast.

Emperor – The one and only, our favorite topic for daily arguments. Sluttiest waist in game.

Duke Belynne Stelmane – Gods’ most perfect princess. We all agree to fuck the Emperor for what he did to her (some of us literally). She used to be a member of the Council of Four[1] as well as leader of Baldur’s Gate branch of Knights of the Shield[2]. Had ties to Hhune patriar family, possibly even related. Low levels of waist sluttiness.

Gargauth – better known as the Hidden Lord, a powerful pit fiend imprisoned in the Shield of the Hidden Lord. His portfolio includes betrayal, cruelty, political corruption and power brokers[3]. The Shield has been kept underneath Baldur’s Gate for over a century, spreading corruption in the city due to his presence alone. Such is his influence, that on the condition he’s taken away from the city, the crime rate might drastically drop[1]. He is known to have been communicating through the Shield with a past leader of the Knights, providing him with valuable information and helping the order grow in power while trying to gain worship[3]. Only some of the Hhune family and the highest rank members of the Knights knew about his existence, though in the present day no one is aware of his infernal identity[2]. Gargauth will try to steer his current owner towards acts of cruelty and domination in hopes of condemning their soul to the Nine Hells[1]. In the “Descent into Avernus” ttrpg one of the baddies wants to use the Shield to drag Baldur’s Gate into Avernus in the same fashion it happened for Elturel, but a party of adventurers takes it away before this evil plan is realized[1]. No information on waist sluttiness due to being imprisoned in a shield.

Now that I established myself as a squid fucker and Stelmane as a leader of a devil-worshipping organization, I know what you’re thinking – I’m gonna say that the Emperor had to enthrall this evil cult leader to save the city. Haha, no. Keep reading. Here, have a meme so I don’t lose your attention.

I must begin by clearing some misconceptions. It’s easy to assume that because of the Stelmane scene, all the Emperor told us about her up to that point was a lie. It wasn’t. They had a functional relationship before the mind control took place. (If you already know this, feel free to skip to the next meme.) There are two notes in the game pointing us to that conclusion: a journal found in Hhune mausoleum commonly attributed to Stelmane and a transcribed conversation heard in Elfsong tavern.

This existence of a past relationship also explains the portrait of Stelmane that the Emperor keeps next to his desk and one of his dialogue options when the PC hugs him in act 2.

Later, in act 3, he also has some lines painting a vague picture of the relationship’s nature.

So she was beginning to trust him before he caused the stroke. This makes things so much more messed up.

There’s still one written document, which doesn’t make sense, namely Patient Log:

This is clearly written after the Emperor took mental possession of her and caused a stroke. Why then does he help her and why does she keep asking for him?

Have you ever gone into the Hhune mausoleum and saw this note?

After giving up on solving the puzzle and looking it up online have you wondered who is “HE”?

It’s Gargauth, the Hidden Lord.

In “Descent into Avernus” module the party may encounter an NPC who is a member of the Knights; she is kept by Vanathampur family as a leverage in case it transpires that Vanathampurs stole the Shield of the Hidden Lord from the Hhune crypt [1] – the very same mausoleum present in game. And it just so happens that the key to this very mausoleum is in the Elfsong Tavern’s Knights of the Shield headquarters, where Stelmane and the Emperor had their rooms.

That’s not all. When you solve the Hhune mausoleum puzzle, a secret wall will open, revealing a small room full of the Knights’ symbols. If the Shield hasn’t been stolen, the Hidden Lord would be revealed too, just like the note says.

And what is that on the table? It’s Stelmane’s journal I was referring to earlier.

Stelmane had access to the Shield. And if she did, the Emperor had too.

(Kudos, if you already know where I’m going with this.) Here’s my proposed order of events.

Stelmane and the Emperor meet. At the time she isn’t yet a Duke nor the leader of the Knights. Like any normal person she’s terrified at first, but unlike any normal person she’s willing to collaborate for the sake of the Knights and her own ambition.

Due to having an illithid ally she quickly climbs ranks of the Knights. She grows to trust him and vice-versa. Things are as good as they can be for a determined politician working her way up in a corrupt organization and a renegade illithid helping with this task.

They finally advance to the seats of power. Stelmane becomes a Duke and leader of the Knights of the Shield. Perhaps thanks to this position or due to Emperor prying into minds of the members, they become aware of the Shield of the Hidden Lord kept in Hhune mausoleum.

They begin speaking with the Shield. Neither of them knows the true identity of the entity within it and the Hidden Lord does everything to keep it that way. His information and advice is always good, so turning to it for guidance becomes a habit.

Gargauth being Gargauth makes every effort to corrupt them; it’s not particularly hard. Keep in mind they’re not good people to begin with. She’s someone willing to collaborate with a mind flayer for the sake of taking over an evil organization and he’s one DC 20 persuasion check away from enslaving the city. The devil causes their worst traits to flare up and pitties them against each other.

This results in a power struggle which culminates in the Emperor dominating Stelmane and causing her seizure.

The Shield gets stolen and soon after taken away from the city.

Without Gargauth’s direct influence they (especially the Emperor) realize the fuckup, but the damage has been done.

They recognize the fiend’s influence in this transgression. Emperor starts treating Stelmane, maybe they try to make their relationship how it once was, though it might not be possible.

Emperor gets taken by Gortash and soon after is sent on the Astral Prism heist. Events of Baldur’s Gate 3 happen.

That’s all! Have a meme!

Here’s an extra bit for the interested.

The see-through people gaze is most likely caused by Gargauth’s influence. And before that Wyll says:

Sounds familiar? And from one letter in the game we can learn that Stelmane has a mansion in the Upper City, where the patriar families such as Hhunes reside[2]. Could she be related to Thione-Hhune?

Huge thanks for reading it all! What do you think? Did Larian originally plan to have this side-story of an aftermath of Gargauth’s corruption?

Sources in order of referencing (sorry, I don’t have a better system)

[1] “Descent into Avernus”: p.162, p.174, p.225, p.5, p.40

[2] “Murder in Baldur’s Gate”: p.36, p.51, p.39

[3] “Lords of Darkness”: p.151 (all the info)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 emperor #bg3 theory

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dairy-farmer · 21 days

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Okay but consider? Has Tim ever seen Ra's post-Critical Injury Lazurus Dip? Like not "oooh, I am back to my sexy Dilf-y glory~" but FULL ON "I have been Hard Reset back to the Prime Of My Life(tm), which statistically is early 20s, and am now a Young and Hot prowling bad boy. With no Grey in my hair and a SLIGHLTY higher voice, meaning while I sound familiar, you can't instantly place it like you usually could."

THAT sort of Hard Reset.

Bet he hasn't.

Bet he'd have an even HARDER time recognizing Ra's in a Masquerade mask. If Ra's had a smooth, freshly shaven, face. I mean... it's not like Ra's an assassin cult leader or anything. Him? Knowing how to DISGUISE himself? When in his centuries of life would he have had time to learn THAT?

So there Ra's is. Looking rich, dangerous, and slutty. As one does. Tight black pants, loose poet shirt, gold and gems dripping like honey down his skin. The very PICTURE of a WEALTHY young trouble maker. Blending in with all these wealthy fools, up too no good, some of them far more then others.

That's why the Bats are here.

For Intel.

But of COURSE, Brucie Wayne has aged out of this sort of scene. Tut tut. And his waste of a grandson is just a touch too young. A shame. So it's the Detective and a few others, leading the charge. But... ah, SUCH a big building! And can the Wayne's afford to be seen at such a disreputable event?

Of course not.

So they're in disguise. Layers upon layers, Detective. Masks upon masks. Delightful~

Ra's gets to watch Tim work the room. Prowl in magnificent heels. Dodge covetous hands so casually it seems by accident. Extract information people have DIED to protect. Blonde, tonight. He looks better with hair like the night.

Ra's smiles like a wolf.

And begins to hunt his prey though a sea of masks.

Which is how Tim meets a VERY rougish, tall, and delightfully muscled heir too...something. It's kinda obvious, given all the jewelry. Swordsmen too, from what he can feel of those INTERESTING and calloused hands. Tim knows he should focus... but...

Mystery Hot Guy is REALLY forward. Clearly in to him. And it's not like he's gotta marry the guy.

Did he mention the DELIGHTFUL rumble? His voice has a low rumbling quality to it, when he leans in close so he can be heard over the music. His hands are hot and gripping in that "just a bit too tight but not TOO too tight" sorta way? So yeah... he's gonna... uuuuh, go... "question so informants" real quick. Get back to you guys later!

Don't wait up!

And Ra's? Knows the chance of this working more then once is close to zero. So it has to be LEGENDARY. Life changing. Dick so good it ruins the Detective's LIFE. He's got to make sure the next time they meet, the Detective wants to kill him AND fuck him in equal measure.

After all, the Bats have a "no kill rule". Oh dear, Detective. Really only leaves you one option, then, doesn't it?

So Ra's goes to absolute TOWN on Tim. Sinks down to his knees and eats him out til his legs won't hold him. Carries him to the bed to the guestroom they're about to absolutely DEFILE, too use far too clever fingers, to stoke that burning NEED back up. Too stretch and tease, as his mouth worships that chest. That neck. That clever, clever mouth.

Runs his free hand along magnificent skin, wishes he could grip hair like the finest ink as he savors Timothy's mouth. It all feels decadent. Ra's is patient. Aaaand, there, Tim rocking against his hand has turned for lazy pleasure (savoring the glow of a good orgasm) to demanding.

His hands, his kisses, are growing hungrier. Commanding Ra's to give him what he needs. Spoil him like a pampered little prince. Either worship and adore him, or he will find someone else who SHALL. How can Ra's refuse? He'd be a fool too.

A fool not to suck and bite branding little marks upon that magnificent skin. A fool not to hike up those powerful hips a grind and tease with his length, until Timothy's sharp little nails dig into his flesh in warning. A gods forsaken incompetent, to NOT sink into that magnificent heat, pressed so close he can hear that breath taking little gasp of pleasure, as the thickness of himself presses wider and deeper then any BOY the Detective as ever taken.

Ra's AL Ghul is no fool.

But he IS a VERY giving lover.

Especially when he has something to gain from it. And oh, how it is a struggle not show the victory on his face. It would not do, to give the game away at the last moment. He knows better. So he moves his hips just so. Rolling at just the right angle. To grind with in as he thrusts, to grind against as he moves, his body angled just right to tease the Detective's clit.

Strong, calloused hands teasing what feels like EVERYWHERE. That deep rumbling voice monologing a god damned speech on how good Tim's body feels, how perfect he is, how sexy. That cock hitting everything over an over in a way marksmen would WEEP with jealousy at. Tim is pretty sure his brain is melting. Hook up too good, fuck why he came here actually. The others can handle it.

Will he later admit he fucked up? Probably. But that's when he gets the ability to reason again. Right NOW all he can think is a series of frantic porno noises and variations of the word "More". Turns out fumbling around with your teammates is NOT actually a good frame of reference for "what is Sex and how good does it feel?".

Tim doesn't even notice, two position changes and several orgasms later, when he loses his wig. His face is buried in Mystery Hook Up's shoulder, drooling and clinging, as he's worked up and down that mind melting cock like a toy. All that HE registers is that it feels nice to have that stuffy thing off and fingers running through his hair.

His family, though? Freaking out. Tim left with an "informant" (their ASS) and never showed back up. They've all HAD the traumatizing Honeypot Talk from Bruce. They KNOW Femme Fatales are a thing. Homme Fatales are a thing! Did someone send a sexy assassin after Tim!?

Soooooorta.

Dick, powered by the sheer force of Brotherly Murder-Panic and 👌close to showing the world why he and FUCKING DEATHSTROKE have a weird decade long "Thing(tm)" going, kicks down the door to waaaay too many random hook ups... until he eventually find the RIGHT hook up.

Where Timmy ain't got no bones. He be truely, magnificently, well fucked and boneless. A cooked noodle. Orgasm machine ran dry and he can see the shrimp color, Captain. He's cuddling a sex god and actively plotting to tattoo his phone number somewhere on this guy's body. Who CARES where he lives. Tim will MAKE it work. How you feel about breakfast?

Ra's is the exact flavour of Lounging Smug Bastard you imagine.

It's not even smirking "pleased with himself" territory anymore. It's full on "if a tiger were turned into a human, got revenge on the bastard who did it, and was lounging around feeling pleased with itself covered in blood" grinning. Because NOW, he has won.

Dick is, of course, going to break every bone in this Mystery Bastard's body. Jason. Hold him.

Which... just as Tim is about to throw a lamp in defense of his new Sex... something, Robin kicks the window open because "fuck it, I'm helping. Timothy may be an idiot. But he's OUR idiot and you've clearly seduced him with some sort of evil demonic sex magic, you fiend, time to fight." Etc etc.

Only then Hot Hook Up takes of his mask.

He.... He looks a LOT like Damian. A concerning amount. Like... if you were to say, take away the Wayne traits, he'd be almost identical.

Tim is ALSO not a fool.

That grin is very familiar. Those EYES are a shade he knows INCREDIBLY damn well. And oh sweet fuck on a stick he boned Ra's AL Ghul.

And it was amazing.

DAMN IT!!!

Does Tim absolutely HATE that Ra's was right? That Tim SHOULD consider sleeping with him? Yes. Is Tim going to do it again? According to the flashcard forcefully handed to him by his Father, ahem, "No. We do not sleep with Supervillians. We have self control." So... noooooooo, of course not. He would NEVER. Don't be absurd.

(Yes.)

-🐼🐼🐼

tim knows he shouldnt but also knows bruce has no moral highground to say 'dont sleep with supervillains 😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 5 months

Text

So I spent a chunk of today very confused as to why this photo affected me so much. Why is Rhys, as Stede, in this photo, so dopamine inducing?

I’m a Quality Assurance Specialist / Software Developer by day, so I HATE not understanding how things work, and I thought, “Why not look at smaller pieces of it, one at a time to see what it’s made of?”

I decided to start on the light side of his face.

On this side you can see the signature smirk, and the sparkle in his eye. The foreground is lit and the background is bringing your eye towards the stairs, which triggers the imagination, because where does it go? Does he want you to go with him?

That’s the first thing I think that I realised made this photo so enticing to me, it’s not just a picture of Stede, it’s a picture of Stede with the promise of going somewhere with him. Somewhere you don’t know. He’s looking directly at the camera, and he’s grinning, and he’s focused on YOU.

Add to that-- bedroom eyes at their finest.

Moving on to the dark side of his face:

The tone has completely changed. Without the smirk, he looks confused or almost uncomfortable/nervous. The vein in his neck is tightened, and the adams apple looks like he just swallowed air, the eyebrow, not coupled with the smirk is furrowed slightly.

Now, in general I’d just like to shout out how amazing his facial range is, that Rhys can have two sides with different expressions. His physical comedy and acting is always so impressive to me. He must have cheek muscles for days. Moving on.

Back to the right side for a moment, but not the eyes. I’m convinced in some weird part of my brain that he’s got hypnotic powers in them because they always make me swoon, but I digress (really I think it’s just he uses his expressions to the fullest, and people can smile and provide intent with their eyes).

ANYWAY— both sides of the smirk are visible and so both parts look positive again, both look well meaning and playful. The view of the right cheek (his left) is really pronounced, so you can really tell he’s not just smirking but smiling, so it's a more intense look.

The arm position is more provocative, once again, shoulder and elbow directing your eyes to the stairs.

Provocative, as well, because of the hint of a bare chest. Strings as opposed to thick fabric in general seem to evoke more of a sexual intent (thongs, bikinis, etc). Like one pull of a string away and the whole thing will unravel. Again, enticing and suggestive.

Alright, on to the other arm. I didnt go into it much in the last picture of this side because I feel like his face distracts from the body language (because his face distracts from everything!). The shoulder is peaked, which even though he’s reaching up, gives off that feeling of a shrug which in itself can be suggestive if delivered in the right context.

The part that really stands out to me though is the fingers in the tassel. As we’ve seen in some of his other movies, and the scene at the restaurant before they run off, Rhys has purposeful but gentle finger movements— much like Stede's general personality.

Example 1: Love Birds

Example 2: Coconut Stede - GIF by bizarrelittlemew

They really are a tease. So much so that I've considered doing another appeal to the court, this time regarding Rhys’ slutty fingers, but I digress.

You can't see the tips of his fingers in the shot with the tassel, but it’s the reaching, and the obviously delicate touch that once again adds to the whole awkward yet suggestive nature of his arm.

Next up, no hands or elbow, just lower left jaw and chest. I mentioned previously that the vein in his neck looks tense. Without the eyes to provide context, it does look like he’s maybe a bit nervous.

From there, follow the line from his nose all the way down. Nose, to smile lines, to neck vein, which lines up perfectly with the seam in his shirt, which then draws your attention several ways, to the arm, down the shirt to the belt, or down the collar to the strings in the bare chest. That vein connects everywhere else together. We may not recognise it consciously, but these lines in photos and drawings can really make a difference in tone and intent.

Now after all that, time to go back to the face, this time framed a bit differently. Full Rhys headshot without the dark background with the stairs.

This shot, without the rest, looks much more confident to me. Less suggestive, and more haughty which I feel like is his signature captain look.

Please reference anytime he's in the English uniform, good lord.

A fun little extra thing, in this shot you can see the ring, bright gold, and it matches his hair. Harder to see that in the other shots because there’s too much else going on.

So, overall, this BTS photo is just generally phenomenal. It keeps the most important thing, Stede, lit and in the forefront but leaves trails for where your eyes should wander.

I think the reason this picture affects me so viscerally is because of the pure chaos of feelings in it. You have Confident Stede, Delicate Stede, Nervous Stede, Suggestive Stede, Playful Stede, Kind-eyed Stede, and it’s very much so much about the viewer. He’s looking at YOU, not at the person taking the picture. He’s expressing all those emotions at YOU. YOU are being offered to take his hand and go up to the dance and who knows where else. When I say "YOU", I mean Ed really in this context, but YOU get to feel like Ed for a bit in this photo.

You get to feel that goofy, accepting, loveable man dote on you, even for just a moment. For me personally, I've been starved for a long time of emotional affection, despite being married, and this kind of a glimpse into what Ed can and does experience is both tortuous and incredibly encouraging. It brings hope, and joy, and is just all around absolutely glorious. Thank you Samba and the rest of the bts crew that keep sharing these amazing glimpses of heaven.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #rhys darby #ofmd bts #how can i get any work done when rhys darby exists #thank you samba #totally normal for rhys darby tumblr association

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latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 8 months

Text

HANAGASUMI★(花霞)

✎。。。the japanese word used to describe the scene with many blossoms - literally translated as the “flower haze”

✎。。。fics are mainly fem! reader-centered and will contain dark and sensitive content that may trigger some, please read warnings before continuing!!!

✎。。。join kinktober taglist.

WEEK ONE — ❛ U KNOW U LOVE IT BBY ❜

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 1

dp 1 hole + beidou & ningguang

s. having the attention of two of liyue's strongest women isn't so bad when they keep you as their pretty pet.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 2

orgasm denial + scaramouche/wanderer

s. he's always had an attitude whenever you pointed out how much he stared at you. and of course, he's being a little shit when he's balls deep in you.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 3

tit fucking + al-haitham

s. he's absolutely unbearable to be around, but at least his lewd body is all yours to use as you please.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 4

face-sitting + yelan

s. sometimes yelan needs her cute and slutty little wife's pussy, preferably on her face.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 5

tentacles + thoma ⚠��

s. your pet has been misbehaving as of late, so you decide to test out the new toys that you bought.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 6

praise kink + kaveh

s. you've always thought kaveh was super duper cute ever since you laid your eyes on him, so what's the harm in telling him that?

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 7

prostate massage + dainsleif

s. he looks pretty when he's slumped on your lap, clinging and begging for mercy as you push him over the edge over and over.

WEEK TWO — ❛ U KNOW U WANT TO BE A FREAK LIKE ME ❜

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 8

thigh riding + ho'olheyak

s. she's been needing a new form of entertainment for herself, and a sweet cutie like you seems to be her answer.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 9

sex toys + lumen

s. working overtime provides you with surprising benefits, such as being able to tease your cute assistant until he's begging for mercy.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 10

oral fixation + skadi

s. in order to keep her from succumbing to the seaborn, you let her use your body however she pleases.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 11

mirror sex + silverash

s. you should've known that your dear friend and operator had ulterior motives when he invited you to go shopping.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 12

dry humping + tequila

s. your puppy has become much more desperate and pathetic now that you haven't touched him for a while.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 13

aphrodisiacs + flamebringer ⚠︎

s. dealing with a multitude of enemies and a mission gone awry is already bad enough, but now he's under the influence of an aphrodisiac and won't stop touching you.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 14

creampie + młynar

s. quickies are always so much fun, especially when you're trying to not get caught being his cute little cumdump.

WEEK THREE — ❛ LOVE ME LIKE A DESERT ROSE ❜

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 15

dacryphilia + blade ⚠︎

s. he knows you'll never give him anything other than hate, but you still satisfy him when you cry.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 16

size difference + svarog

s. nobody else hits it as deep as he does, and quite frankly, nobody else is as big as him.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 17

deepthroating + dan heng

s. it's always the cute nerdy guys that are the freakiest in bed.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 18

somnophilia + luocha

s. he looks super duper pretty, even when he's asleep. besides, he won't mind if you touch him just a bit, right?

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 19

overstimulation + gepard

s. your obedient dog needs more training if he wants to be a good boy for you.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 20

squirting + kafka ⚠︎

s. kafka always likes to do her good luck ritual before she leaves on a mission.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 21

clit stimulation + serval

s. it's always a fun time whenever serval visits the astral express. especially when she has you beneath her in your room.

WEEK FOUR — ❛ MAKE IT CREAM, MAKE ME SCREAM ❜

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 22

bondage + master!qin yi

s. only you, his silly disciple, would stay by his side, a heretic who didn't even know who he was. so why...are you so willing and happy to become one with him?

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 23

puppy play + thoma ⚠︎

s. he's yours, all yours, your sweet little puppy, and you'll be damned if you'll let anybody else have him.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 24

alleyway sex + flamebringer

s. fuckbuddy doesn't wanna admit that he's jealous, so he just drags you into the nearest alleyway.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 25

cock worship + chong yue

s. you can barely go a day without the taste of his cum melting against your tongue.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 26

glory hole + abyss heralds & abyss lectors

s. huge monster cocks just fill your pussy better.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 27

69 + uramichi omota

s. your boyfriend always looks forward to his day off when he can spend the entire day with you.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 28

strength kink + nidhogg

s. the colonel is a symbol of absolute strength in the league, someone who could never be defeated. and you know all too well his strength, especially when he traps you against his desk.

THE BIG THREE — ❛ HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME! ❜

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 29

breeding kink + enjou

s. just your husband spending some quality time together with you by doing his best to breed you.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 30

collaring + zoya

s. i want to talk to you about all the things we could do, i want to be yours.

｡ﾟ❀⤹ OCTOBER 31

cockwarming + regis adri floyen

s. when your husband is a successful entrepreneur, stress is unfortunately very common, but you'll happily help him get rid of his worries.

145 notes · View notes

moviecritc · 1 month

Text

a night to remember ⋆ mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x fem!oc (named Dominique)

tropes: one night stand

summary: mick was feeling down in the bar with his friends and dominique came in the best moment to cheer him up, but after that night they found out they were going to work together for all the season.

warnings: insinuations, slutty behaviour from the oc

a/n: english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes and poor storytelling.

wattpad | letterboxd | masterlist

Mick didn't wanted to be there, not at all.

They were in Sahkir, after the testing of the new season incoming and they didn't went as good as he thought it would be, so he was feeling a bit down. But anyways George dragged him to the bar with him and other fellow drivers.

They were all drinking for fun and vibing to the music because their testing went really well. Mick, on the other hand, have already seen critics of his way of driving and people comparing him to his dad. He hated that, everything he does is compared to what his father's done. Mick loved his father with all his heart, but he's not only his surname.

"Mick!" Lando shouted, already tipsy. "There's a gorgeous blonde that can't take her eyes off you!"

"What?" was the only thing he could articulate. Mick looked around, trying to find that girl probably Lando has invented.

"That girl," he pointed directly at her, making her lift her eyes to him. "She's eyeing you, you see that?"

"Maybe because you're pointing at her so bad it even hurts me," Mick said, rolling his eyes.

"Nah, she was looking at you before. Trust me on this one, bro," Lando insisted. He took a long sip of his drink, finishing it. And after that he ordered another one to the waiter

"I'm not really in the mood, and you should stop drinking," Mick advised, pressing his lips.

Lando let out a long sigh and even rolled his eyes to make it more dramatic.

"Yeah, whatever. She's pretty, and you're pretty too," Lando argued. Mick lost the thread of the conversation, since when Lando thinks he's pretty? "I think you should go and talk to her."

"And I think you should stop thinking,"

"Why are you so boring, man!" Lando said, almost shouting.

"I told you, I'm not in the mood," he remarked, sipping in his drink.

"You know what?" Lando said. Mick thought it was a retorical question, but then he saw Lando truly waiting for him to answer.

"What?" he wondered, with a long face.

"If you're not talking to her, she is talking to you!" Lando said, before getting up.

"Wait, what the fuck?!" Mick tried to grab Lando's shirt, but he was already really close to that girl. "Fuck..."

He gazed out the whole scene; how Lando started talking -bothering- that girl by tapping her in the shoulder and how she looked totally confused about what he was saying. Then, Lando pointed at him and that girl, instead of frowning and giving him a bad look, as Mick thought it would be, she smiled at him softly and wave him shyly.

Lando took her with his arm and walked her to Mick.

"Mick, mate! This is Dominique, isn't she gorgeous? I told her you said that, so you have to agree with me," Lando said very fast, stepping on the words.

"Uh, yeah," he was getting nervous. "I mean, absolutely! You are gorgeous, yes."

Dominique gave him a wide smiled but she quickly began to blushed.

"Well, I'm gonna find George and all this people, so you can have a little bit of peace," Lando said and when he left, he winked ant Mick in the weirdest way possible.

Dominique sat by his side at the bar counter and ordered a cocktail to the waiter. "Thanks," she said, when the waiter returned with her drink. "So..."

She was ready to start a conversation, but Mick interrupted her with a grin.

"I'm really sorry about my friend, he is drunk and I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," he excused himself, pressing his lips together.

"Oh, no worries! I mean, I was actually eyeing you," Dominique admited.

"You were?" Mick was totally surprised, and maybe a bit excited.

"Yeah! I came here with my friends and I've been telling them all night that you looked really cute from afar, and even cuter this close," she lean a bit into him, brushing their shoulders. Mick couldn't say a word. "Now you have to compliment me back, darling."

"Oh! Yeah, I've said it before, you are stunning," he said, trying so hard to not hesitate.

She laughed. "So, what are you doing in Sahkir? You don't look very local, we're not gonna lie,"

"Neither do you," They both laughed. "I'm working here,"

"Oh, me too!" Dominique said. "Well, sort of. Tomorrow is my first day,"

"Nice," Mick was going to add something, but Dominique quickly took the word

"So... you wanna hook up or something?" she asked, finishing her drink.

Mick almost have forgotten why Dominique was talking to him. She just wanted to hook up, that was her aim since their first interaction. Flirt a bit and then go straight to fucking.

"Okay," he agreed.

She was a beautiful woman and definitely his type, why would he denied it?

Mick felt off the whole time. They didn't have that connection like his other relationships, they were just two strangers fucking. And it hurt him knowing that Dominique only talked to him looking for sex.

Maybe he's just an idiot but for a few seconds he thought they were connecting in some way. Obviously, the next morning she was gone.

🌷🌷🌷

"Girl, I just hooked up with some random guy," Dominique rushed to get out of the hotel where she left Mick sleeping.

The first thing she did was calling her best friend, who was in the other side of the country.

"Dom! We talked about this," her friend said, sighting. "You have to stop turning into a slut everytime you drink."

"Hey, I'm not a slut, I'm slutty. Know the difference," Dominique tried defending herself.

But her friend was totally right, when Dominique gets drunk she doesn't scream or crazy dances, she flirts with every guy that appears in her way. Before Mick she also was watching some of his friends aswell, but it was Mick the one who caught her eye.

She hated that facet of her, going hungover her first day of work is not something to be proud of. She just got hired by Haas to be an engineer in the upcoming season of Formula 1. Dom actually didn't adore the job, she was never a fan of the sport, or any sport in general. But travelling all around the world sounds too good to say no. And also the pay really good.

Her new collegues were the ones who dragged her to the bar that night. "I think I'm gonna kill myself," she said to her friend, still on the phone. "I was awful, awfully awful. I turn into a horny bitch-ass anytime I drink,"

Dominique sighed and she drink a long sip of water, in an attempt to make her headache leave.

"No man peace," her friend said, with a little laugh.

"Oh, shut up. It makes me fell like a horrible person. And the man seemed so sweet and nice,"

"You're not a horrible person," her friend assured. "You're just slutty,"

Dominique rolled her eyes. "Ok, I'm gonna hung up now,"

She took a taxi to get to the circuit where the practics where being held. It was the first time in all her life that she has put a feet in a Formula 1 circuit. One of the workers of Haas show her the whole place, ending the sort-of-tour in the Haas garage.

"And this is Mick, you are going to be his engineer the whole season," he said and right after that he leaves them alone.

They both recognized each other at the very first moment. She could've been drunk as fuck, but Mick has the bluest eyes she has ever seen and she remember them perfectly.

"Wait, you work here?" Mick asked, astonished.

"Yeah... isn't that obvious?" Dominique pressed her lips together, forcing her to not smile.

"Well, you didn't tell me yesterday," he argued.

"I was focusing on your pretty eyes," Dominique admited.

Mick lower his eyes for a moment, hiding his blushed cheeks to get into character again.

"You know, you're not the first person of referred to me as pretty," he said with a smirk.

"You should be proud, pretty boy," She didn't know why they were flirting in that way. "I actually thought you would be mad at me,"

"Yeah? Why?" he questioned, crossing his arms by his chest.

"Well, I wasn't very nice the other night. But it's something that happens to me when I'm drunk, and I also weren't in the mood of talking," she admited.

"Oh, really?" he exaggered. "I didn't even realize."

Dominique looked away because of Mick's sarcasm. "If you're going to start with sex jokes I'm gonna leave," she made the gesture of going away. "I'm sorry, ok? I was a total bitch yesterday..."

Mick didn't say anything.

"Now it's when you deny it and tell me that I'm super cool and gorgeous," Dominique insisted, biting her lips.

"It's okay. Dominique, right?" They both laughed.

"Yes. You were Mick, right?" she didn't leave him time to answer. "I don't know why I asked, I totally remember your name,"

"Ok, now I'm impressed!" Mick said, walking with her to the inside of the garage.

"I told you, I'm a cool person. And I actually thought you were cute," she remarked.

"Really?"

"No,"

They bursted into laughs.

"You're funny," Mick said.

"No, I'm being serious. I don't like you at all," she insisted, still smiling. "Like, if you asked me for a date I probably throw up,"

"Now you're being dramatic. You can't be that level of dramatic with someone you just met," Mick said, frowning in a very cute way for Dom's eyes.

"Try me,"

Mick didn't even think twice. "You wanna go on a date with me?"

"Yes,"

They went silent for a few seconds. "So no vomit?"

"No... sorry for disappointing you, darling," Dominique pressed her lips together.

"Calling me darling without being on a date, how lustful," Mick rolled his eyes.

"Alright, bro," Dominique hit him with her fist in his shoulder. "Don't you think we should get some work done? Let's do some driving and strategic shit,"

Mick blinked a couple of times. "Do you know anything about Formula 1?"

"Not at all,"

"Cool,"

"You see? I'm super cool,"

"I didn't mean you,"

"Shut up, Mick." she said right after. "Or I'll cut your brakes,"

They kept that dynamic for the rest of the day. Dom's insinuations increased practicaly every minute, and Mick adored answering her something three times worse. And at the end of the week the long-awaited date arrived.

Even though they were staying at the same hotel, Mick insisted coming and pick her up.

"Oh, hi," Dominique said with a smirk. She chose a nice light pink dress and he was wearing a linen shirt. "It's nice seeing you with something different than fireproofs and that awful suit."

"You can't say that, Dom. It's bad for the team image," Mick insisted.

She loved that he started calling her Dom instead of the usual Dominique, it made her blushed in the craziest way.

"Darling, we have no team image," Dominique said, smiling.

Mick rolled his eyes dramaticly. All over the week she didn't stop bullying the team. She was right about all the things she says? Absolutely. But if someone except from Mick hears her, she probably will be jobless again.

"Where are you taking me?" Dominique asked, hooking his arm to Mick's.

"I know a nice restaurant in the city, sounds good?"

"Sounds delightful," she smiled softly. "You're paying, right?"

Mick bursted into laughs. "Of fucking course, I'm a gentleman,"

"If you say so,"

"Then we can do fifty/fifty," Mick shrugged his shoulders, pursing his lips.

"Alright, I'll stop. I'm ready to have a nice and relaxing evening," Dom said. "And then we're fucking."

"On the first date? Daring,"

"Deny it," she made a short pause. "Go on, deny it,"

The silence was loud and then Mick looked at her with a devilish smile. Mick drove to the restaurant while Dominique was changing the song every minute. At the restaurant he sat facing the window and they ordered food to share.

They talked and laughed a little bit too loud. The dinner went so good that Dominique was worried, how can a human being be that interesting and that cute?

"Hey," Dominique changed the way of the conversation when they were arriving to the hotel. "We're not going to fuck."

"Really? I thought that was all you wanted. Again,"

Dominique, between laughs said, "No, I'm being serious. I want to do this in the right way,"

"Wait, we're going to have three dates so I can kiss you?" Mick said, wide-opening his eyes.

"No, no. I was hoping you would kiss me like... right now?"

"Cool,"

Mick leaned into her, and she had to stoped him so she could control her laugh and finally their lips interwinted. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in each other. She could feel her heart racing, matching the rhythm of his own. Dom entangled her hands in Mick's hair, pushing him closer to her.

Mick put a hand in her back and she took that as a sign to separate their lips.

"Mick, hey," Dominique said, connecting looks with Mick. He was totally blushed. "I'm being serious, I want to take things slowly."

"Okay, I can do that," he nodded, with a soft smile.

"I mean, we are working together so maybe if we go very fast we'll have problems and I don't really want to have problems, because you're very sweet and I like you."

She left out a long breath.

"You like me?" he faked susprise. Dominique rolled her eyes and then she felt how Mick grabbed her hand softly. "I like you too, Dom. Just to be clear,"

"Oh, thank you. How thoughtful,"

Mick laughed. "C'mon, I'll walk you to the door of your room."

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x female oc #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #mick schumacher x oc #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher imagine #formula 1 one shot #ms47 #msc47 #ms47 fanfic #f1 fluff #noraverse 🫧

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ealeczander · 2 years

Text

Rating KinnPorsche ghost ships:

PetePorsche - 10/10

Adorable, amazing, brilliant, showstopping, spectacular! Best friend to lovers to soulmates for the win. Really pure ship. What else is there to say? Pete and Porsche will sneak away on little dates, mostly to eat and smoke. They will be partners in crime to all sorts of crazy ideas. Pete will definitely go and open a restaurant by the beach with Porsche. Pete and Chay will be best friends. Chay will also have to be the mom of the group because the other two morons don’t know what self preservation is. Pete’s grandma will be so happy that Pete has found such strong and beautiful boyfriend, she will start sending food to feed a small army claiming Porsche and Chay need to grow even stronger.

MacauChay - 7/10

Love them! I really do! But those little gremlins will kill each other if they date. I see why people ship them. They’re both from a broken family with only one brother to rely on. They’re both trapped in their circumstances and may find comfort and understanding in one another. They will absolutely hate each other at first, though.

ChanBig - 10/10

Did someone said Daddy Chan? I think we all saw that scene in ep1 and we collectively went - yep, they fuck. It’s the way Chan has all the power, the way Big doesn’t want to disappoint him. My daddy issues could never. It’s their power dynamic, it’s Big refusing to look at Chan’s eyes, it’s Chan being firm but gentle. I don’t need to say anything more, there are already amazingly slutty fanfics about them.

VegasTay - 10/10

This ship gets bonus points for the aesthetics alone, they are both gorgeously styled. I can see it happening as a one night stand. When Tay has finally had enough of Time’s bullshit, he goes to a club and sees Vegas there. Tay is ready to make some bad decisions. Vegas on the other hand has no idea what is happening, but one of Kinn’s best friends is flirting with him and he’ll be a fool to miss that opportunity. Vegas wrecks Tay’s world that night. Tay tells him he can leave marks. Vegas knows that his definition of “marks” is different from most so he controls himself. It will be so much more satisfying if Kinn’s friend does not regret this in the morning. Afterwards Tay tells the story of his shitty relationship and Vegas suggest murdering Time. Tay should have found that calm statement frightening, but he didn’t. He actually found it quite funny. Having his friend’s hot psycho cousin care more about his feelings than his actual boyfriend. Tay suggests doing that again, gathers his things and leaves. Vegas doesn’t know why he never told anybody about that night, maybe he forgot.

ArmKhun - 8/10

I’m taking points out because of the power imbalance and I’m giving points back because of the aesthetic. Diva Khun and Bodyguard Arm! Yes, give me more. The scene of them fighting the minor family with Arm’s car-bombs which were bedazzled in gems by Khun is what sealed the deal for me. They are an amazing team. Khun is such a fun and crazy character and I would like to see him in a more serious situation. What if he gets a gun pointed at him and goes into a ptsd episode while Arm has to be the best bodyguard and protect him but also later calm him down. The crack but also angst potential is astonishing.

KenBig - 6/10

Someone said they are the Mean Girls of KinnPorsche and it hasn’t left my mind since. Yes they are! Them just gossiping around and making everyone’s life miserable, love to see it. Don’t know if I can see them as something more serious than fuck buddies but I see the angst potential of both of them dying without knowing about what happened to the other.

ArmPorsche - 7/10

I’m seeing this starting as one sided love because notice how Arm looks at Porsche, that boy is in loooove! He was ready to go against his boss just to help Porsche. If Kinn was actually cheating on Porsche, those two boys would be game.

KinnPete - 6/10

Pretty sure this ship became famous after VegasPorsche left KinnPete in the dust in that alley. I can’t see this ship working, surprisingly because Kinn is a cinnamon roll when he’s in love and Pete is a psycho when he’s in love. But there is something really homoerotic about Kinn having trust issues and Pete being the only one he trust unconditionally. I can see it if the story takes a “dead dove do not eat” approach. With Porsche betraying Kinn and Kinn turning dark, and Vegas betraying Pete and Pete turning desperate.

#kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #macauchay #kinnpete #peteporsche #vegastay #armkhun #kenbig #chanbig #armporsche #chay kinnporsche #pete kinnporsche #arm kinnporsche #chan kinnporsche #big kinnporsche #tankhun theerapanyakul #kinn theerapanyakul #tankhun kinnporsche #not including armpol because this ship is literally canon and you can’t convince me otherwise

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ctl-yuejie · 9 months

Text

only friends characters so far, yes they are ranked.

1. Mew

Okay, I have never watched a show with Force and Book and I am so delighted with Book's acting. He looks absolutely cute in this show and you just get why Top would try and jump on that. But what really got me was the steadying breath he took after that heavy make-out scene and pushing Top off.

(might insert gif later)

Just really impeccable.

Later, when he gets flustered and a bit mad at himself for Top being so smooth in the bookstore? So, so cute. He just nails the energy that is needed to understand Mew. Mew is confident in himself and his values and that is going to be an important focal point when the story unfolds. Yes, he takes this man home that Cheum wants him to get with and who he realizes is making a move on him. I believe he earnestly felt a bit frisky and after getting drunk on the atmosphere in the bar (I don't believe he actually had any alcohol) he was at a point of "I am hot. This guy wants me and supposedly is a good lay, so why not try it". His romantic bone got activated when things got too heated, but he was into it until then.

Again: great choice of Mew responding to the first kiss a bit awkwardly and tentatively (he might have kissed before but not an expert like Top) and then getting eaten up by Top but also getting the hang of it quickly. Mew is the type of person who is very sexual, but the importance of the connection to the other person still outweighs that (just look at Book spreading his legs in the opening/ him emphasizing that the chemistry didn't work out in the past with other people).

And as a character, I am quite intrigued. There seems to be a tentative consensus that Mew is actually good at reading people and very much not naive, and that he will ruin Top later on. Some think that comes from a place of an "I can fix him attitude", others, that Mew plans on screwing with Top from the get-go.

I believe neither is true. If he were to screw with Top from the beginning, there is nothing coming out of that for him. Mew is genuinely a nice person with some tiny barbs (that jab at Boston in front of Top?). He can hold his own, but I don't think he would put in the energy to ruin a guy's life for the fun of it. I also don't believe he is naive to a degree when he sees Top's playboy nature and is convinced that getting with him will change that. Based on his bookish nature, I believe he has a very romantic view of things. Top getting with him won't change Top, but getting into a committed relationship with someone you have amazing chemistry with? I don't think in Mew's world there is a nice person who wouldn't want to stay with that person (and there is an important difference to "this relationship will fix him"). Based on the trailer, he might be actually right (the stability of someone staying with him might be important for Top to reckon with his drug addiction). I do think he errs in the degree to which Top is a nice guy. Mew knows that Top can pull people left and right - he got hit on immediately after running into him - and Top tried to fuck him on the first night they hung out with each other. But Top's ploy to show interest in Mew beyond sex and talk openly about admiring his attitude and his book reading paired with engaging in deeper conversations + he is a friend of a friend? Yes, Mew is less naive than I expected, but Top (while not coming out of it unscathed) will surprise him in a bad way. And at that point, it won't even be about Top being his first.

2. Boston

Finally, GMMTV gave Neo a main role and he is destroying every scene he is in. I am biased towards slutty characters, particularly when they have somewhat of a moral code but are missing a poker face. Every face Neo makes in episode 1 is such a journey. I am gleefully clapping my hands at everything he does. The way he smirks, his face when he judges someone? Such good "Sure Jan" energy.

(might insert gif later)

Boston is a bit egoistic and a dick, but he cares. And the man has no poker face to save himself. His mild confusion about Nick's gameplay? Him deciding to fuck him anyways, because while maybe not as suave as Boston likes them, he is still cute. How could he not look at Top in a pathetic way or look haughtily disgusted at Top's behaviour around Mew? He'd have taken the crown for side-eyes if it wasn't for Sand.

As for morals? He will hit on people who, on a surface-level, are not available, but he is also down for a threesome when it turns out a couple is only available as a package and I am down for that. He is clearly weirded out by finding Nick's selfie on his phone but he will roll with it if his dick is interested. Nothing but respect. He will sleep with Top while he is dating Mew, but I do believe he does feel love for his friends. He will just be a shitty person from time to time.

And I like that - unlike Ray and Top - he might not have any "deeper" issues. He's not a slut because of some trauma or because he needs sex as a tool for more self-worth etc. No. He just likes sex and I applaud him for acting on it (insert me shaking hands with him).

I cannot over-state how fond I feel of Neo for giving it his all. He plays a slut, so he will have top-notch chemistry with everyone in any scene. He's pissy with Top? You can sense that he wants that man despite himself and that they fucked each other silly before. And Neo is willing to make all the right noises (when Drake pulls down his pants?). I feel like my favourite of the week will change every time, but Boston might always be in the top 3. He promises to entertain every week.

3. Top

He is so good at acting as a player.

Walking ahead of Mew in the bar, waiting until Mew looks at him from behind and then slowly turning around? Pulling himself up on the kitchen aisle to fully cover Mew with his body? Fantastic job.

(might insert gif later)

It helps that he has the fitting physicality (the whole cast is gorgeous but the way he looks, down to the type of underwear he wears, screams fuckboi), but the coldness in his eyes is getting to me. He can say despicable shit and still look attractive and he can make his eyes smile, so Mew will let his guard down while having a void behind that. It is good to know that he actually has some issues, because Top at the moment terrifies me. Yes, Mew turned out to be more self-assertive and steadfast when he might have thought, but a lesser predatory playboy would've given up in order to not look foolish trying to get into a relationship (even with hidden intentions) with a virgin, but Top doesn't care. Mew only sleeping with him once they are boyfriends is also a game and interesting to him. So far, I haven't detected any genuine romantic emotions towards Mew or anyone else. While he thinks Mew is interesting, the only time I detected honesty was when he was smug about Boston wanting him so much it made him look stupid.

4. Nick

Mark has a talent for playing babybois™️ and here he is getting down and dirty with privacy regulations and customers as Nick and still retains that energy. A mature version of it. I love Nick. I would already shed tears for him as Boston is going to ruin him if it wasn't for his blatant disregard of anything that is holy when handling customer's phones (not to distract,, but this actually happened to me and it was absolutely not sexy and I am still lowkey terrified that anything got shared with other people) so I am just cheering for him on the sidelines, curious whether he will manage to actually escalate things once he finds out what Boston is up to. Nick is such an interesting mixture between "I cannot believe this unbelievably hot guy just eyed me up like a piece of meat" and "Yes, obviously I have game because I will get down in the middle of the store with the door open".

(might insert gif later)

I'm not even sure he usually has one-night stands, he enjoys being manhandled but also???? he is not afraid of transgressing moral rules. Very solid acting, Mark can make his eyes sparkle (see the point on babybois) and I need them to sparkle with revenge.

5. Sand

First things first (heh), I wish they had done something with his singing. First is wonderful, but he cannot sing and since his role is supposedly a singer, I just wish they had helped him out a bit more with that.

Otherwise: I love his line delivery and the eye-rolling this show lets him do. Going by the trailer, Ray might be the first guy he is interested in and I want to see how they tie that in with this kind of series. His and Khaotung's scenes were very slow in terms of character development, but I am excited. Him preventing Ray from drunk-driving has got me thanking him for all eternity.

6. Ray

Khaotung as always delivers a stellar performance. When he smiles so drunkenly with content when Mew mentions his name? I know that he has issues, but he is also very likeable deep down somewhere. Besides the jealousy, he is right to not trust Top and it will be delightful to have him watch navigate what is jealousy and what is warranted concern.

7. Cheum & P'Yo

Cheum's straightforward attitude really acts as a great bridge between the very dysfunctional site of their little group and Mew. Not sure whether the red wristband in the beginning means that she is indeed in a relationship (at these parties it can also just signify someone who doesn't want to get hit on - side-eying you, Boston) but I was a bit disappointed she didn't get more screen-time in episode 1. I am a bit mad at gmmtv for putting actresses in the official main cast and either side-lining them in the promotions or having their roles vanish in the show (or both). I like that in the little montage she witnesses all the "cute" things Top does for Mew so it is believable that she'd be in favor of him dating Mew after a week. Like her acting, incredible voice. More of her please.

"It's alright. You are hot." took me out. I love Jennie, I just hope that she also gets proper screen-time.

8. unnamed fling played by Drake

Last time I saw him was in "My Tee" which I got very confusing vibes from and by extension wasn't really sure whether I would feel any of the actors future performances. He commited and delivered a fantastic sex scene with Neo. I will never question P'Jojos choices.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #just judging by the amounts of thoughts I had the ranking is very self-explanatory #but i am so excited for everyone #i still need to reblog all the posts from saturday #this is the first free minute i got to engage with anything concerning this show

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