#this is like $1000 of cds

[cursoulla]

the urge to spill all my headcanons for Noir/Nier(Original) aka Shadowlord,, but holding myself back… actually what inspired this was- oh god. just a lot of body horror and… worship, reassurance… *vibrating at inhuman frequencies*

let’s just say. i’m in my feelings about them very OFTEN. i shan’t gush further and will let the emotion I tried to convey in this piece do it for me,

[altogetherx]

stuck in 2014

[socialbunny]

sorry to this man, but i don't think theres a big enough video game promo collector or even manhunt fan that's going to buy this at the made-up price it's set at just bc theres some shitty plastic on it. "factory sealed" items are like a parasite in the promo/game collecting sphere & it gauges prices so badddd

[born-to-lose]

The time when my sister and mom are blasting old Italian pop is coming rip

[girldickdotcom]

cd collection update i love it soooo much

[badlydrawnultrakill]

i am realising now the unflattering perspective. basically Y2K internet sillyguy mouth or Horse

if 1000-THR "EARTHMOVER" had a mouth would it be like THIS or like THIS

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 2

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.  Chapter Summary: Try as he might, Joel just can’t shake the memory of you. Try as you might, you can’t stop thinking of the woman tied to his desk. CW: The slow burn is burning. Mentions of death and underage drinking. Topless in public, this is a love story about BDSM after all. Reader does have some physical descriptions, so maybe more of an OFC, or just pretend you have pouty lips and a slightly upturned nose. Double POV (reader and Joel). AN: Thank you SO FUCKING MUCH for all the love on chapter one of this story. I literally cannot believe it surpasses 1000 notes in just a month, you're all insane and I love you. Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Biiiig shout outs to the bb's who have been so supportive of me spiralling and panicking this last month over the next chapter. I'd be in a deep dark cave without you @mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @lotusbxtch @evolnoomym @joelmillerisapunk and @milla-frenchy . Thank you! I feel like I'm giving some sort of Oscars speech and if you're still reading this, you're the real MVP. XO Word Count: 8.5k

~ Joel - 27 Years Ago ~

Joel’s stands in the garage of someone he barely knows, surrounded by drunk and rowdy classmates from his high school. He’s a senior, graduating in just a few weeks and moments like this are one of the perks of being the star designated hitter and first baseman, everyone wants you at their party. Someone hands him a warm, flat beer that was pumped poorly from a keg as they pat his back roughly in congratulations. Joel’s not sure how a bunch of seventeen year olds managed to get a keg, most likely an older brother, but he drinks the shitty beer all the same. Speaking of brothers, he hasn’t seen Tommy in a while. He’s only fifteen and he promised their mom he’d keep an eye on him. The younger Miller shouldn’t be at a seniors party, but that's where those perks come in again, because if Joel was good, Tommy was better. In fact, he was so much better that he’s played up a whole age group his entire life, always right beside Joel. Tommy was the back catcher, and tonight he got the eleventh inning game winning out at home for them to win the state championship. 

He finds Tommy chatting with a group of girls, all of whom are incredibly beautiful. They’re going to be very disappointed when they find out how much younger he is than them. Joel smiles into his red solo cup as he takes a sip of stale beer. He tucks his free hand into the pocket of his light blue wranglers and walks over to the wall of the garage. He leans back and crosses one cowboy booted foot over the other. The brim of his cowboy hat grazes the unpainted drywall behind him. Texas, and the country, in the late nineties was where everyone wanted to be, and Joel Miller could have been the poster boys for teenage country boys in 1997.

Brooks & Dunn plays on someone's CD player in the corner, laughter and people talking overlaps until it’s just noise to Joel. He stands back, watching his younger brother effortlessly charm the five pretty girls around him. All of them in tight blue jeans, lacy white tops, denim vests and cowboy boots. He grabs one by the hand and Joel overhears, “I’ll teach ya how to two step, shame to not know in a place like this.” Then the motherfucker winks at her like he’s some sort of cowboy Casanova. Joel lets out a silent laugh through his nose and sips the beer again shaking his head. 

Just as Tommy pulls the pretty little blonde over towards the unmarked and unofficial dance floor in the corner of the garage the song changes. Slow guitar, followed by the unmistakable twang of Tim Magraw’s voice. Joel didn’t know it then, but that song would change the course of his life and intertwine itself in the very fabric of his being.

‘Dancin’ in the dark, Middle of the night’

That’s when he sees her, tall and slender, deep olive toned skin and pale green eyes. Her dark curly hair cascades over one of her shoulders. She’s laughing with another classmate, and even though he can’t hear the sound of it over the noise of the party, he can tell it’s a light and melodic sound, and he wants to spend the rest of his life drawing that out of her. 

‘Takin’ your heart, An holdin’ it tight’

He puts his warm beer on the work bench beside him and takes off his black felt Stetson, placing it over his broad chest, hoping the comfort of his favourite hat would slow the rate at which his heart is beating. 

‘Emotional touch, Touchin’ my skin, And askin’ you to do, What you’ve been doin’ all over again’

She looks over at him, smiling shyly, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s walking over to her. His legs move on their own accord, knees shaking as he approaches the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

‘Oh, it’s a beautiful thing, Don’t think I can keep it all in, I just gotta let you know, What is that won’t let me go’

Everything in the room fades as she fully comes into view. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe the girl in front of him. She radiates a warmth that he’s only ever known his mother to radiate. It’s the first time he’s ever seen this girl, but she feels like home. This is it, that one thing that everyone says you’re supposed to feel. The thing his grandpa told him when he was younger, “Son, you’ll just know. It sounds ridiculous, but when I saw your grandma it was like a pull behind my belly button. I just knew, and I’ve known everyday since then.”

“Howdy, ma’am,” Joel says, tipping his hat to her before placing it back on his head. 

She giggles, confirming his earlier thoughts. It really is the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard. “Hi.”

He holds out a hand to her and she takes it, her skin is so warm and smooth. In that moment he knows that hers will be the last hand he ever holds. Fire flushes through his veins as he continues, “I’m Joel, what’s your name?”

“Oh, I know who you are Joel Miller,” she flirts, not letting go of his hand. “I’m Tiffany.”

“Tiffany,” he repeats, his voice going deeper as he says it. It’s egotistical but he loves the way girls shiver just a little when he lowers his register. “And how is it that you know who I am?”

She slides her hand from his and reaches up to grab his cowboy hat, plopping it onto her head. “Star first baseman and designated hitter, everyone knows Joel Miller. Look around, look at all these girls lookin’ at you, cowboy.”

For the first time in his life Joel finds himself blushing, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Tiffany. 

“I only see one girl.” She rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep at the cheesy line, but that was it for both of them. From that point they were inseparable. 

They both turned eighteen a few months later, and just ten months, and a thirty two hour labour after Tiff turned eighteen, a tiny little Sarah came into the world all pink and screaming. Joel hears that song again as he watches Tiffany hold that little bundle of blankets, ‘Better than I was, More than I am, And all of this happened, By taking your hand.’

They get married when Sarah is just a few months old. Both his beautiful curly haired girls in white dresses, Tiffany grabbing that same black Stetson off his head during their first dance. He holds them both, swaying from side to side, a hot tear rolling down his cheek at how goddamn happy he is. ‘And who I am now, Is who I wanted to be, And now that we’re together, I’m stronger than ever, I’m happy and free’.

Things for their little family of three are perfect. They buy the house with the white picket fence and the wrap around porch. Joel gets a job working construction and enjoys a nightcap with his beautiful young wife on their front porch every night. They make love often, slow and sweaty, Joel worshiping her soft copper toned skin inch by glorious inch. Tiffany wraps every minute of her day around Sarah and being a sweet, devoted housewife. Nothing seems to stand in their way. Until the diagnosis shortly before Sarah starts Kindergarten. 

Tiffany is too young, they’re all too young. This isn’t something that happens to people their age, they haven’t had enough time. Joel spends the next few months in a haze, it has to be a bad dream. The appointments, the treatments, the call to 911 when the illness starts to win. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. 

He holds Tiffany until the very end. Sponging a soft kiss to her forehead, whispering his goodbyes as they shut off the machines keeping her here. “You’ve been so strong, my love. You fought so hard. I know you’re scared to go, I’m scared too, but we’ll do it like we do everything else. Together. I’ll be ok, Sarah will be ok. Just rest now. I love you.” 

As she takes her last shaky and shallow breath, a sound will live with him until he takes a breath that matches hers, that song echoes through his hollow chest. ‘It’s your love, It does something to me, It sends a shock right through me, I can’t get enough’.

You - Present Day

You roll to a stop outside Mister Miller’s house for your second day of cleaning. As you look towards the impressive house your pussy flutters at the memories of yesterday - the almost pornographic noises that were made in that office, his soft and kind eyes as he apologized profusely in the kitchen. You were supposed to go to a study group last night, but instead you got lost in a rabbit hole of porn where women are tied up and fingered. You got yourself off four times thinking about a man you’re not even supposed to know, wishing it was his thick fingers hitting that spot inside of you that you can’t reach on your own. You felt guilty about it last night and now being back in his home you have that same sinking feeling again. 

Stupid. Sacrificing my future for a fantasy. Never again. 

You let yourself in the house and look at the list in your cleaning app. You pop in your AirPods and start listening to your favourite true crime podcast; thankful for the new episode, a gruesome distraction as you scrub baseboards and lightswitches. The episode ends and in an attempt to not let your mind wander to the gorgeous man that lives here, and the depraved new things you’ve discovered about yourself, you start an educational audiobook about civil rights law. You might want Joel Miller to strap you down and whisper filth in your ears, but you are a good person, and your aspiration in life is to help people who face discrimination on a daily basis. 

You breeze around his home, checking off each task and before you know it it’s almost one in the afternoon. You have almost your whole list complete, his soft sheets are in the dryer (and yes, you are incredibly proud of yourself for only putting the luxurious white fabric to your face twice on the way to the washer). You only have the patio furniture to spray down and the kitchen counters to wipe. That’s when your stomach growls, almost as if to remind you that it’s the perfect time to take a break while the dryer finishes. You haul all your stuff out to your car and lock up, sitting in your front seat as you take out your lunch container.

An engine revs in the distance and your heart skips in your chest. Before you even have time to wonder if it’s Joel’s car, one of the black garage doors slides open and Joel’s obsidian coloured Aston Martin rolls by you, stopping with precision on the shiny cement floor of the garage. You avert your eyes, focused on your container of chicken noodle soup. The left side of your face feels the warmth of his gaze fixed on you. Without looking over you can tell he is studying you and it takes everything you have to keep your eyes on your measly lunch. 

The afternoon sun is blocked as Joel raps his knuckles on your window. You glance over at him, looking up through your lashes. He’s looking at you intensely but you can’t quite place his expression. As always, his deep brown eyes are locked on yours, he could either be happy to see you or incredibly disappointed in you. But one thing is for sure, he’s calculating your every need with those warm and inviting eyes. He knocks again so you crank the handle to roll your window down a crack.

He raises one eyebrow at you, both hands rest on the roof of your SUV as he leans forward to speak to you through the small opening in the window. “Seriously?” His voice is laced with sarcasm. 

“What?” You say, “Can’t be too safe.”

He blinks at you before continuing, “What'd ya doin’ out here?”

You lift your tupperware container a little, willing the tingles between your thighs to stop, “Eating my lunch.”

He rolls his eyes, running his hand along his greying scruff. “You’re eatin’ lukewarm soup in your car in the middle of February.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, but his voice is warm and curious, and you start to realize that the look on his face isn’t happiness or disappointment, but concern. 

You nod, “Yes.” His eyes dance around your face and you swear your heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Fluttering so fast that it’s traveling up your throat and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. 

“Get out of the car. Come warm that up and eat inside.” His voice is thick with concern, entire face soft as he looks at you. 

You swallow your heart back down to where it belongs, “I’m not allowed to do that, Mister Miller.”

His cheeks redden a little and some of the softness in him disappears, “Don’t call me that, it’s jus’ Joel to you.”

“I’m not even supposed to know your name, Mister Miller. I can’t call you by your first name.”

He shifts his weight onto one foot and points a thick finger at you through your window, “Don’t. Either you call me Joel or nothin’ at all. Come inside,” he drops his pointer finger to the door handle. He pulls on it to find it locked. “Seriously?”

“I told you, I can’t be too safe!” You can help but think how cute he looks all flustered - shaking his head at you for being cautious in a neighborhood where you could probably scream your credit card number and no one would use it. If anything, the wealthy homeowners on this street might transfer you money when they see the state of your vehicle. 

“You’re eatin’ inside.” He says flatly. 

“I told you, I can’t. We aren’t allowed to do that. You’re a client, Mist - I mean. Sorry, I just can’t. We aren’t allowed.” You glance towards the clock on your dash. At this rate your break is going to be over before you finish eating. 

He jiggles the door handle again, as if he can convince the metal to bend and unlatch itself with just his sexiness alone. “You like rules, don’t ya?”

He’s got you there, you do enjoy following the rules. You nod and hum a noise in agreement. 

“Unlock the door, please,” his voice has changed, he’s being more commanding now. A deeper, huskier sound leaving his lips. The sound seems to latch onto something deep in your mind, strong fingers wrapping around the control center of your brain, guiding you to do his bidding. You blink the feeling away. 

“Mister-,” his eyes flash with darkness, “Sorry. I can’t. It wouldn’t be right to eat in your house, plus my break is almost over.”

Joel releases your door handle, raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and lets out a breath, as he drops his hand back to the top of your vehicle an amused smirk flashes across his face. “Do you consider yourself to work in customer service?”

“Yes,” you say nervously.

“And isn’t the main rule of customer service that the customer is always right?” His lips form a tight line and a deep dimple carves into one of his tanned cheeks. Your brain flashes back to one of the videos you watched last night, a man sucking on a woman's nipples as he rubbed her clit, her arms and legs strapped to a padded table. He had a dimple, but he had nothing on Joel. 

“Yes,” you croak and then clear your throat gently, shifting in your seat at the fire building behind that bundle of nerves between your thighs. 

“Then unlock the door, darlin’ and eat inside.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, turning and walking towards the house. He stops on the front step, opening the large glass front door. You follow, flip flops slapping on the concrete, carrying your powdered chicken noodle soup and plastic spoon up towards his fancy home. When you reach the threshold, he holds out his large hand palm up and you place the old, stained tupperware with your half eaten soup into it. He looks down at it and then back at you, eyes trailing along your body and it feels like he’s running a torch over you. “Is this all you have to eat?”

You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile. 

He cocks his head towards the kitchen and one pushed back curl that’s laced with a few greys falls into his eyes with the movement. In order to stop from pushing his loose curl back you squeeze your fists gently and head towards the stool you sat on yesterday. As your flip flop hits the tile you stop and look back towards your car nervously. “I, umm, I forgot my shoes.”

His large, warm palm comes to your lower back and he pushes you gently towards the kitchen. You sit as he transfers your soup into a matte black bowl and places it in the microwave. He opens a cupboard and pulls out a loaf of fresh bread, as you go to protest he flicks his eyes up to yours and something about the expression on his face tells you not to argue with him. He pops the two carefully cut pieces into the toaster. He breezes effortlessly around the kitchen for someone so broad and masculine. You didn’t realize someone making toast could be so sexy. The microwave beeps and he grabs a gold spoon from a drawer before wandering around the island, placing them both in front of you. His arm brushes yours as he pulls away and your heart flutters at his touch. He walks back around the kitchen island and grabs a glass. 

“Still or sparkling?” He says as if that’s just a normal question to ask when you get someone a glass of water. Just another thing that proves you don’t belong here. The toaster pops and you jump a little. He chuckles as he grabs the toast, slathering it with butter. “Still or sparkling, darlin’?” 

You breath hitches, he’s called you darlin’ twice now. Is that just that southern charm you hear about so often, or is it more? You shake the thought from your head, there’s no way someone like him is interested in someone like you. “Still is fine, you don’t have to trouble yourself.” 

You take a spoonful of soup, blowing on it gently before putting the spoon in your mouth. Joel is watching you in the same way he was yesterday. Assessing. Observing. Calculating. It feels like he’s looking into your very soul. He slides the plate of toast and then a glass of sparkling water over to you from across the island.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “You didn’t -”

He holds his hand up, stopping you in the same way he did yesterday. “I wanted to.”

You feel your cheeks redden and you have to look away as you take a bite of toast. He’s too handsome standing in the kitchen with the afternoon sun highlighting his features. He’s wearing a black dress shirt today, the top few buttons undone, accentuating the perfectly groomed salt and pepper hair on his chest. You swallow your bite of warm, salty, buttery toast, allowing your eyes to flutter closed at the delectable flavour, holding back a moan. 

Joel clears his throat and crosses his arms across his broad chest, “So how did ya get into cleanin’ houses?”

You look up at him through your lashes. Why is he being so nice to you and taking care of you? He apologized yesterday. And after you told him it was fine he left you a massive tip. He said he wants to do this, but why? He’s rich and handsome and you can probably safely assume that that icy blonde from yesterday was his girlfriend. Unless…could she possibly be a mistress? You decide that that must be it. She’s his mistress. He has a wife. He’s just like every other rich man, cheating on his beautiful and age appropriate wife with someone much much younger than him. He’s probably terrified that you might find out who his wife is and tell her. That tip was hush money.

“I’m saving money,” you say and then shake your head, willing the thoughts in your mind to calm down. “For law school.”

“That right?” He says, raising an eyebrow at you as you take another spoonful of soup.

“Yes, I want to be a lawyer. I graduated a semester early and needed some money before going back to university. Assuming I even get accepted. This job meant I could work part time so I could study to take the LSAT again and also make good money.” You take another bite of the toast, mainly to make yourself shut up. 

He watches you the entire time, nodding along, his eyes constantly assessing. “Take the LSAT again?” he asks.

“I passed it already and applied to schools but I haven’t heard back yet. Law school is pretty competitive, so I’m going to take it again and hopefully have a better mark for the next round of college applications.” You’re talking too much, you need to shut up and just eat, but Joel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look away. No one has ever listened to you like that, not even your parents.

“Next round?” He asks curiously. 

You feel your cheeks redden. You don’t want to admit to this obviously successful man in front of you that you probably won’t get accepted to any of the eight universities you applied to. “Yes. It’s competitive, and I probably won’t get in. So I’m preparing to be better the second time.”

“Where did you apply? If that’s not too forward of a question.”

“No, not too forward. Umm, a few places. Strength in numbers, I guess. Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Berkeley, Duke, University of Toronto, but I don’t think I’d survive a Canadian winter. I also applied at Notre Dame and University of Texas here in Austin.”

Joel laughs at you mentioning the Canadian winter and once you’re quiet, he looks down at his expensive dress shoes, “I, umm, I know some higher ups at UT Austin if you need me to put in a good word.”

You smile at him when he looks back up at you, “I don’t think that’s quite how it works, Joel. But thank you.”

The two of you are silent for a moment while you finish your first piece of toast. You glance up at him and he’s looking at you with that same hint of pride he had yesterday while you drank your water. He’s making you feel like eating toast is something to be proud of. You can’t explain it but his facial expression wraps around like a corset. Pulling its metaphoric laces and making you sit up taller, holding your head up higher. With just the shimmer in his deep brown eyes you feel like you could take on the world. You need to break the silence so you say, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, leaning back to rest on the countertop behind him. His arms uncross, his strong hands wrapping around the countertop on each side of his body. 

“What do you do for a living? To have all this?” You gesture around the house as you sip your sparkling water.

“A few things. I used to own a construction company, sold it a few years ago to retire but I got bored pretty quickly. Now I own a few properties, I rent them out.” You nod as you listen to him, eating your lunch. One hand rubs at his patchy, salt and pepper beard nervously before saying, “I also own a club.”

You let out a little giggle into your water glass, immediately praying that he doesn’t think that was you being rude. Of all the professions that could have come out of his mouth, owning a nightclub was the last thing you expected. Joel smiles at the sweet melodic sound leaving your lips and relief washes over you. “Why’s that so funny?” His voice is light at his inquiry. 

“It’s not,” you say after swallowing your water. He furrows his brows at you. “You just - I mean, I guess I don’t know you, but don’t seem like the nightclub type.”

“You’re right, you don’t know me. But you’re also right that I am not a nightclub type,” he states. Something about the way he says it makes you sense that that’s as far as you’re going to get with it, but you also realize that the club is probably how this man meets young women to bring home.

You put your spoon down and place your hands in your lap. “Can I umm, ask you something else?”

“Of course,” he repeats. 

“What’s with that little dinosaur toy on your coffee maker?”

He smiles and reaches over to grab it, rubbing his thumb along the faded and scuffed brown paint of the little toy. He looks down at it and a hint of sadness seems to fill his coffee and amber eyes as he looks at you. “My daughter, she umm, she got it for me from the prize box in Kindergarten after her mom -” he stops mid sentence, sadness lining his features. Joel’s not married, you roll your eyes at yourself internally for thinking the worst of him. And truthfully, you of all people know he’s not married. You clean his house, you’ve been in his bedroom, and there are no women's clothes. You’ve also been in all the spare bedrooms and there’s no chance another person lives here with him. He continues, choosing his words almost carefully, “Well, just after she was gone.”

“I’m sorry, Mister,” his eyes flash onyx for just a second, he looks lethally sexy and you swallow your words before starting again. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“It was a long time ago,” he says, placing the dinosaur back. He runs his fingers through his salt and pepper curls, letting out a little sigh. There’s a shift in him, like suddenly the world is heavier. He tries not to let it show, and maybe most people wouldn’t notice, but you see it. The slight fall in his face, a little slump in the shoulders, a breath held for just a second too long. He clears his throat gently and says, “I’ll be in my office. Eat your lunch for me, please.”

Joel

Joel closes the door of his office and rests his forehead against the smooth wooden surface. He can’t remember how much he spent on these doors when he built the house, but he would set any door that separated him from you on fire if he had to. 

Get it together, Joel.

He closes his eyes and only sees you. The way your glossy, pink lips formed a little O as you blew on your soup. The way the gold plated metal spoon slid softly along your tongue. His cock twitches in his pants and he feels the urge to throw all the spoons in his house away. 

Great, you’re jealous of a spoon. 

He shouldn’t be home. He signed a contract, and more importantly, you signed a contract. In order to protect him and you there is to be no contact between the cleaner and the client. That’s what you consented to when you took your job at Maid Discreetly, and now he’s caused you to break that contract not once, but twice. But he cannot seem to get you out of his mind, and as he sat in a meeting at his club he couldn’t focus. You were here, cleaning his home in that form fitting white polo shirt and those black pants that hugged at your hips in all the right places, and he just had to know if you were as beautiful as he remembered. Just a quick peek, he convinced himself as he made up some bullshit excuse to leave. 

When he saw you sitting in your rusty SUV you looked so innocent and pure, you were more than beautiful. The afternoon sun lighting up your high cheekbones and slender, slightly upturned nose, it gave you an almost angelic glow that temporarily took his breath away. If he had to describe you in two words he would say that you were simply ravishing. For the first time in almost thirty years he wished he still had the calming comfort of that black felt cowboy hat. But that soft Stetson went with her because she loved it so much. 

As he caught his breath and looked at you from his garage, he was overcome with an urge to bruise and corrupt you. He’s a bad man for the thoughts he's been having about you. He can’t help himself, but even in his most twisted of fantasies, he’d never do anything you didn’t want him to. But, fuck, he’s sure he could mold you into exactly what he wants in a submissive. 

Joel isn’t new to the world of kink; he’s had many subs, all of whom have referred to him as Mister Miller. However, his name has never sounded so fucking sweet as it did coming off your lips. Those two little words leaving your pouty, pink lips feel like that first sip of whiskey after a long day, and it might kill him if he doesn’t make you his. 

He sighs into the white wood of the door before standing and walking to sit behind his desk. He drops into the soft leather chair and lets his head fall back onto the headrest and closes his eyes. What is it about you? Why can’t he stop thinking about you? You’re way too young. Way too sweet. Way too…sinless. And even though he can’t explain it, and he knows you don’t know it, you’re way too “exactly-what-is-going-to-ruin-his-entire-life”. 

You’re not someone he can just play with. No, he’s good at reading people, and you’re the kind of person that deserves being invested into. You’re also not someone who is going to stick around. You have dreams and well laid out plans on how you’re going to achieve them. He can’t cage you in, he’ll have to let you spread your wings and fly no matter how much he sees himself as the man he used to be reflected back in your eyes.  

He opens his eyes and pictures you kneeling in the corner, perfectly manicured hands that he pays for you to have done weekly folded on your lap as he works. He imagines calling you over with a curl of his fingers, you crawling across the plush carpet and resting your head on his lap as he responds to emails, takes calls, or plans events. He could reach down and run his fingers through your soft, silky hair as you nuzzled deeper into his lap with your cheek. “My perfect, sweet girl,” he’d hum.  

His body falls forward, forehead hitting the sturdy wooden desk with a thump. Jesus Christ, Joel. 

It was one thing when he only found you beautiful - he could live with being attracted to you, he could find a way around it or stuff that attraction down, maybe he’d find a new sub to distract himself with. That would be easy for him, but then you had to open your mouth, you had to speak so passionately about your future. Why couldn’t you just be pretty like all the other women he plays with? You might be one of the most driven people he knows: the way you push yourself, already planning for the next “no”. And that kills him, ruins him really that you are programmed to think there will automatically be a “no” and that you’ll have to endure another round of LSAT’s and college applications. You’re smart, and he wants to kill whoever made you feel like you need to push yourself this hard. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket; annoyance courses through his body until he sees his brother's name across the pristine screen of his newest iPhone Max. 

“Ya?” He says harshly. 

“Everything ok with the alarm?” 

Joel’s mind goes blank, “What?” 

Tommy is silent for a second before he responds slowly, “The alarm? You left in the middle of a meeting because of an alarm.” 

Joel shakes his head. Right, the alarm. The bullshit excuse he made up so he could leave to see you. “Ya, right. Ya, it’s fine. Got it all, umm, all fixed up. Should be back soon.”

“You ok, brother?” Tommy asks suspiciously. “You seemed, I dunno, distracted today.” 

“I’m fine,” Joel snaps. 

“Alright. Well, come back soon, pretty big night here and we need ya.” 

Joel hangs up without saying goodbye. He’s the owner, he knows it’s a big night, but he’s sort of busy having an existential crisis over possibly being in love with his house cleaner. Whoa, in love? Pump the fucking brakes. Joel’s heart stops beating for a second at the thought of it. He can’t possibly be in love; he doesn’t fall in love. No, he decides, it’s just because she’s new, and exactly my type, and it’s been a long time since I found someone that’s my type.

Just as he stands from his desk, he hears the hose outside turn on. You must be at the pool furniture part of your list. He takes this moment to sneak out of his own house, because he’s a weak man when it comes to you, apparently. He slips into the Italian leather front seat and lets the new car smell waft over him; he loves the smells of a new sports car and has never owned one long enough for it to stop smelling that way. It’s a matter of status to him. He takes a good hard look at himself in the rear view mirror. That’s enough now. For both of your sakes. Leave her alone. 

You 

After spraying down the pool furniture you rush inside to warm up. Seriously, who needs their pool stuff cleaned in the fucking winter? As you jog up the stairs to grab Joel’s freshly laundered sheets, you blow into your cupped palms. The warmth spreads from your frozen fingertips to your palms. Joel’s office is empty; he must have left while you were outside. Your brain swirls with unanswered questions as you pull the fitted sheet back onto his king size bed. Why would he come home? First of all, he knows you’re here this time and second of all, he knows he’s not supposed to be here. So why? And then there’s his calculating stare, always watching and usually with a flash of pride in his features. Did he come back here just to talk to you? Maybe even to get to know you? 

It’s safe to say that you’re more confused than ever, and you make a mental schedule of studying and reading to keep you busy later tonight so you won’t spend hours trying to google him again.

It takes way too much effort, and a silent promise to yourself to get back to the gym, but you manage to wrestle the oversized duvet back into its cover just as three o’clock rolls around. You jog down the wide, open staircase and your phone bings in your back pocket. Jamie’s name is splayed across your cracked screen, the sunset from your last trip to California shining back at you. 

What are you doing tonight? Want to make a bunch of money serving drinks topless?

You laugh to yourself. Truthfully, nothing Jamie asks you seems to surprise you, and some sort of odd job where you’re topless or in a sexy outfit is practically a guarantee as a condition of your friendship. As you reach for the black envelope on the kitchen island you text back. 

What?

You barely have the thick parchment of the envelope open when she responds, like she already had the text locked and loaded and was just waiting for you to try to fight her on it.  

Remember Laren? My cousin? She has a topless catering company and needs help tonight. It’s at some exclusive VIP poker game downtown. 4 hours, $300 + tips.

You respond as a thousand dollars falls out of the tip envelope. 

I’m in.

Jamie picks you up a few hours later and parks her blacked out Range Rover in the alleyway behind a shiny black building in the heart of downtown. You’re once again surrounded by wealth and success thanks to Jamie. The dress code tonight is a black pencil skirt, black heels, your tits, and a bow tie that Laren will give you. Speaking of whom, Laren is holding open a staff door for you and Jamie with her hip, waving the two of you into the warmth of the building. She pulls you both into a big hug, “Thank fuck! You two saved my ass tonight. Gotta love having friends and family with great tits!”

“You’re so weird,” Jamie says, brushing past her and into the building. You follow her in before Laren ushers you towards a service elevator. 

“They’ve already started, you’re part of the second shift. I think the first set of girls made about four hundred each in tips, helps if you serve the guys that are winning though. The first round of games is almost over, winners move on soon.”

“How were their tits though? As great as ours?” You joke. Underneath the calm and collected mask you’re wearing you are definitely nervous. All these strange men are going to see you half naked, you know nothing about poker or serving drinks. Your two friends laugh as the elevator opens to a small changing room. Girls from the first shift are putting their tops back on, handing the bow ties back to Laren who gives them to you and Jamie. 

She cocks her head towards a swinging door, “Just through there when you’re done. Go to the bartender for a tray and table assignment. Two girls per table and only six seats so it should be pretty easy. Make sure you smile!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Jamie say teasingly as you strip off your tops and bras. She flips you the middle finger as she heads back out to the poker game to supervise. The cool air of the room stiffens your nipples, nerves fluttering behind your navel as you put the bow tie on.

You overhear the girls that are leaving talking about the men, “Did you see the one with the curly hair at the table by the bar?”, one says. 

The other responds, “He was so fucking hot. Total daddy, I think he owns this place.” 

A third pipes up with, “Fuck, I should have flirted more. I could use a sugar daddy.” 

As they walk towards the elevator the first girl says, “Did you know that this is a sex club? Too bad we can’t go explore the rest.” They giggle as they leave and you take a steadying breath. You’re going to be topless, in a sex club. 

“Ready?” Jamie asks, adjusting her bowtie around her slender neck. 

“Did you know this is a sex club?”

She laughs, “Ya, it’s like an exclusive kink club apparently. Laren said it’s owned by two brothers who are insanely hot. Maybe I should see if they need a maid.” She winks at you as you both walk towards the swinging door. 

You step into the dimly lit room and find the bar directly across from you. After rolling your shoulders back and down, you cross the dark hardwood floor to the bar. Everything in the room is black or deep forest green. Black paint covers the walls, your heels click against the sturdy black wooden floors, even the poker tables and chairs are black. A pop of deep green velvet only along the seats and table tops. It looks soft, like one of those fuzzy blankets you have on your couch and you fight the urge to run your hand across one of the empty tables as you pass. 

The bartender hands Jamie a tray first and then quietly tells her to go to the table in the far right corner. She sways her hips like the sultry goddess she is as she walks to the table. Relief floods through you when you notice that none of the men have raised their eyes, they’re focused intently on the card game. This isn’t some sleazy club like you initially thought when you heard ‘sex club’ leave the lips of the other servers. You relax a little at being able to just be yourself tonight, maybe a bit more naked than you’d usually be but yourself nonetheless. 

You take the black marble serving tray as the bartender points to the table closest to the bar. The curly hair man that the women were talking about in the change room faces away from you. Your heart leaps in your chest. Joel. As you approach the other server standing behind the table, he starts to turn his head. Time stops, your heart speeds up, and it starts to feel simultaneously too hot and too cold in the room all at the same time. It’s almost as if he’s turning his head in slow motion. As you catch his side profile he has the same hooked nose, in the dim light of the room you can’t see any greys along his temples and he doesn’t appear to have a beard. After what feels like an hour, his eyes finally meet yours and you let out a breath, although you aren’t sure if it’s disappointment or relief leaving your lungs. It’s not Joel Miller.

“Mind bringin’ me another Macallan neat, sweetheart?” His eyes stay locked on yours as he smiles at you sweetly. He holds the crystal glass out for you and you take it with a soft ‘yes, sir.’

Something about those eyes, and the way they flash darkly at being called sir, feels all too familiar. In the time it takes for you to take the six or seven steps to the bar you convince yourself that it’s just your brain seeing him everywhere. You tell yourself that when you bring this drink back he’ll look nothing like the man you caught knuckles deep in a woman as she cried out, nothing like the man who was so gentle and sweet, yet slightly bossy and commanding with you this afternoon. 

That’s definitely it, you say to yourself with finality. You’re just cock drunk over a cock you’ll never have. 

The bartender pops the whiskey open and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, you can feel someone looking at you. Almost feel their stare heating the right side of your body. It feels as if all of your exposed skin is being covered by the gaze of whomever is looking at you, shielding you protectively from the view of the other men. The bartender's eyes flick to the corner of the room and then back to you while he hands you the drink. The shift of his gaze confirms that you weren’t imagining it, there is someone looking at you. You place the whiskey on your tray and spin cautiously to the right, stopping dead in your tracks when you lock eyes with Joel Miller. He looks dangerous, sitting at a low table along the wall, his face just barely illuminated by a single candle on the dark wooden table top. His fingers are laced together, forearms of his black dress shirt resting on the knees of his black dress pants. His lips are pressed in a thin, disapproving line. 

He stalks over to you and you wish your tray was empty so you could shield your tits from him. The way he moves is almost menacing, like a jaguar stalking his prey, his eyes are almost black in the low light of the room. Your nipples stiffen under his intense gaze, your mouth fills with saliva and you gulp loudly. You stand frozen, the whiskey for that man you had convinced yourself isn’t related to Joel forgotten about on your tray. He plucks the drink off the marble slab, the glass looking like one of those disposable paper cups you have in your bathroom in his hand. He takes two long strides and drops the glass beside the man. 

“Thanks,” he starts to coo, a ten dollar bill clasped between two fingers. After realizing it’s not you, he adds a confused, “Brother?” 

He tries to pull the money back, but Joel is quicker. Snatching it from his brother's grasp and tucking it into the breast pocket of his dress shirt. Joel turns back to you and steps in closely, your lower back hitting the cold marble bartop and you gasp, arching your back and naked breasts towards Joel. His jaw flexes as he fights to keep his eyes level with yours. 

“What are you doin’ here?” he says in a harsh whisper. 

“I’m working,” it comes out a lot more bratty and defiant than you intend it to. 

“Not here you ain’t.”

You take a small step forward, your hard nipples lightly grazing the soft fabric of his black dress shirt. “I’m not leaving.” 

His hand circles your bicep and you twist out of his grasp. “You’re makin’ a scene, darlin’.” 

“You are, Joel. I’m just trying to make money.” He grabs you more firmly this time, not tight enough to hurt you but enough for you to know he means business. 

What’s his problem anyway? He doesn’t own you. What you do outside his home is none of his business. He can boss you around via an app every other week, but that’s it. That’s where it ends. You glance desperately over at Jamie to find her back to you as she speaks softly with a man who’s waiting for the next round of poker. Her hand grazes his bicep flirtatiously, she makes it look too easy to get what she wants from men. Joel guides you towards the staff changing room, keeping your body in the dark edges of the room. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, like an angry dragon and you’re honestly surprised smoke isn’t billowing out of his nostrils. 

In the bright lights of the changing room you feel more exposed than ever. You want to lift your tray, but in order to prove to him that you don’t care what he or anyone thinks you don’t. In fact, you stand up taller, holding your head high and pushing your chest out. It’s infinitesimal but he looks down just for a nano second. You smirk when his eyes come back to you. 

“Put a shirt on.” 

“If none of the other girls have to put a shirt on then neither do I.” You pop your hip out and pull your arm free from his large calloused hand and rest it on your hip. 

“Don’t fight me on this.” 

“I’m not fighting. You are. So all those other girls are fine, but I’m not? Why? My tits aren’t big enough for you?” 

“That’s not,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a breath with his eyes closed. When he reopens them his eyes land softly on yours. “I just need you not to be here. Please.” 

Bright red anger sparks along the sides of your eyes. Seriously, who does he think he is? “You aren’t the boss here, Mister Miller.” 

“Do NOT call me that.” His neck flushes the same colour as your vision. You stand your ground, eyes narrowing into glaring slits. What is his aversion to being called Mister Miller, and why does it turn you on a little bit to rile him up when you use it?

“You aren’t my boss or my dad, Joel. You can’t make me leave or tell me what jobs I can or can’t take.” You’ve figuratively dug your heels in, you aren’t leaving. He can’t make you. Only Laren or whoever owns this sex club can ask that of you. “You can’t kick me out like you own the place.” 

“Actually,” he says darkly, “I can.” 

“What?” You say through a nervous breath, eyes widening. 

“I own the place. So I can kick you out, and I am kicking you out. Get your shirt.” 

Your shoulders fall slightly. You feel about two feet tall with the realization that he doesn’t want you here. This afternoon you thought that maybe he cared, he seemed like he cared, and now you’re half naked and he wants you to leave. He watches as you unclasp your bow tie and slide on your bra and shirt. 

You look over at Jamie’s clothes and it dawns on you that you didn’t drive here. Your face falls as you blink around the room and then towards Joel. 

“What’s wrong?” he says through thick concern.

“Nothing. I just…” 

He steps towards you, he’s so broad, his presence so large that you start to feel almost claustrophobic when he’s this close, but you never want him to step away. You’d happily let him smother you with his innate Joel-ness. “You just what?”

“I didn’t drive here,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands. Your left thumb nail immediately finds purchase along the cuticle of your right thumb. 

His strong palm cups your chin, lifting until he’s looking at you again. You’re becoming more and more used to the amount of eye contact Joel seems to make. He seems constantly dialed in on you when you’re in the same room.

Yes, I would be very happy to let him smother me. 

The harsh lines of his face soften, “I can get you a car. They’ll meet you at the staff door.” 

You nod into his hand and find it exceedingly hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you that way. He drops your chin and turns his large, broad body back towards the swinging door. He looks over his shoulder and says, “I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” His voice is soft and sad, almost as if he’s full of remorse and just hoping you won’t hate him before heading back into the poker game. Any bit of anger is flushed from your system, replaced with the disappointment of having to leave wherever Joel is.  

You drag your feet to the elevator and then towards the staff exit. You let the heavy door close behind you with a loud bang as a blacked out SUV pulls up. The driver says your first and last name as he opens the back door for you. You look towards the black building one last time. 

“I’m sorry. I just can’t have you here, this is on me.” 

JMKink is written in shiny metallic black on the door and all the information of the evening hits you at once. JMK. Joel Miller Kink. Joel Miller, insanely handsome millionaire, owns a sex club.

Next Chapter

Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters and other work.

[roosterforme]

Geriatric Millennial | Rooster x Reader

Bradley loves all things '90s. You don't completely understand it, but you appreciate his spirit.

1000 words

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

There were certain scenarios that became normal over time when you were in a relationship with a man more then ten years your elder. Sometimes you didn't understand certain movie references. Slang words and jokes occasionally went over your head. He and his friends would often reminisce about trends you'd never witnessed. But Bradley never made you feel bad about it, and you never called him an old-timer unless you were joking.

You were used to these things, but nothing quite prepared you for what you saw when you got home from work. Bradley was relaxing on the couch in something that looked like a bright blue, full body straitjacket with some random vintage headphones on his head.

"What the fuck?" you muttered, inching closer when you realized he was listening to music and hasn't spotted you yet. You glanced around the room, trying to locate the source of disturbing chattering sound that just started, and you tripped over a hard, black ball.

Bradley looked up at you with a smile. "Hey, you're home early." He quickly stood in his weird, fleece outfit and leaned in to give you a kiss, but you leaned away.

"What on earth is happening here?" you asked, standing frozen as he pulled his headphones off.

"What are you talking about?" He looked puzzled by your words but not by all of the weird things in the living room. 

"I'm talking about what you're wearing. And the robotic voice!"

"Oh," he laughed. "This is just my Snuggie."

"Your what?"

He glanced down at himself. "My Snuggie? I found it in a box of my stuff from highschool."

You were still so confused. "What's a Snuggie? And what is that weird sound?"

When his gaze fell to something fuzzy and brown on the couch, you jerked back in shock. "You mean my Furby?"

You glared at the critter and it's enormous, evil eyes. "Is that one of those things from that '80s Gremlins movie you're obsessed with?"

He barked out a laugh like you'd just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. "Baby, no. It's not a Gremlin. It's just a Furby. But imagine if Furby manufactured replica Gremlins... Would have been fascinating." It was starting to sound like he was speaking a foreign language. "I was just listening to Chumbawamba on my Discman and playing with my pogs and my Tomagachi. I literally forgot the Furby was even here."

You were sure you were gaping at him like he had two heads as you reached up to run your palm across his forehead. "Do you have a fever?"

"Huh? No, but I did eat a Kudos bar I found in the box, so I might potentially have an upset stomach later. But it was worth it."

After you pinched the bridge of your nose, you asked, "I'm sorry, but what did you say you were listening to?"

"Tubthumping. By Chumbawamba. You know it, don't you? Pissing the night away, pissing the night away. I get knocked down...." He looked at you in wide eyed shock. "You don't know that song? How is that possible?"

You didn't want to tell him that Chumba whatever wasn't a word. And neither was Snuggie. Not when he looked so adorably baffled. You stroked your fingers across his forehead and down his cheek as you shook your head.

"No, I don't know that song, because I'm not forty like you are. And you look kind of alarming in this thing." You pinched the fleece fabric and pulled it away from his body.

"It's my Snuggie," he muttered. "It was from an Infomercial."

"I don't know what that means." He gasped and you started laughing. "But I would love to sit down with you while you explain it to me. As long as you don't make me eat something from the late 1900s."

He took your hand in his bigger one and and led you toward the couch and the demonic looking Furby. "Okay, but first, you need to listen to this CD. Because Jake told me Chumbawamba is a guilty pleasure, but it's actually really good."

About twenty minutes later, you were wrapped up in the Snuggie, enveloped in softness and Bradley's lingering body warmth. "I love this thing," you told him, burying your face in the fleece. "And yes, Chumbawamba is good, but I like Hoobastank better. And I'm really sorry I accidentally kicked your Magic 8 ball across the floor."

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your cheek as you skipped a track on his Discman. "That's okay. Hey, do you want to learn how to play pogs? The best part is, I'm not sure there are actually any rules at all."

"Sure," you said with a shrug. "Why the hell not? As long as you lock that Furby away and never let it out ever again."

"Heard."

[babachira]

life with matsuoka rin throughout the years

matsuoka rin x reader (guys i'm carrying the free community WHY AM I BACK INTO IT IT'S BEEN FOUR YEARS SINCE IT ENDED)

── ⟢

[ iwatobi swim club ]

+ if you started dating rin since season 1 ok you're in for a ride. if you've seen the whole thing, he's basically struck with a big inferiority complex and friendship trouble, he clearly can't forget that experience he had with haru and he so clearly wants it again, he just doesn't believe it's doable.

+ despite being so harsh with everyone else DID YOU SEE THE WAY HE TREATED NITORI he'd be softer with you for sure. i think he's mildly(?) aware that has the tendency to lash out whenever he's not in the mood and he's also aware that you're still sticking with him despite that

+ sometimes you'd scold him for being so harsh on nitori and he'd brush you off talking about how it's normal for guys to do that to their kouhais, but whenever you see how upset nitori looks, you just can't keep it in. he'll eventually be like "ok! ok! i get it already!" and you know he means well, but it might irk you too

+ but despite this, he'll come out of his samezuka room a couple times to go out with you in the town. get food or sit at the park for a couple hours talking about things that's been going in your lives. it's the quiet and nostalgic things that he treasures more rather than the huge adventurous dates

+ 1000% there is an argument in this season. sorry, i definitely see an argument happening nearer to the end, especially when he gets kicked off the relay. when nitori can't persuade him, he'll come running to you asking you to knock some sense into his brain, which you try, but i think rin might shout some hurtful words that he doesn't really mean but blurts in the moment. when he sees the shock on your face and the sight of your back growing smaller as you walk away, it'll hit him even more and he might just get more depressed and angrier

+ he'd apologise after his relay with haru, makoto and nagisa. there's no time before and even if he wants to, he can't throw both things away at once. once he's finished having that emotional closure, it'll hit him like a brick and he'd run to find you. no matter where you are, he'd find you and hold you so close that you feel like you're about to break. he'd probably cry and apologise over and over about how he was so stupid and that he should've never yelled at you. you're too important to him and that he should've thought about what he was going to say before letting it out

+ he makes a promise to you there and then that he'll always protect you from others and the bad side of himself. he'll work hard to never show that side to you again and once you tell him it's ok, he will cry. he will hug you like you're dying because he was so scared that you'd give up on him because of that. he realises there and then how special you are and how strong you are for putting up with an ass like him. that's when it hits him again like "damn, i really scored"

[ eternal summer / timeless medley ]

+ yay! he's grown nicer!

+ now that he's a third year and captain of the samezuka swim team, he has more pressure than he did a year ago and since you're there all the time, you do your best to support him.

+ so, you visit him a lot in the samezuka dorms and let me tell you, it's tiring but really fun. you have momo, nitori and sousuke to keep you entertained, especially the youngest mikoshiba who i bet interrogates you for advice about getting together with gou. he'd be like "(NAME)-SAN, HOW DID YOU DO IT? IF YOU MANAGED TO TAME RIN-SENPAI, I CAN DO IT TOO!" then rin might beat him up idk

+ momo will also try to get you into beetles. if you already like them, rin will be upset IN THE SENSE that momo beat him to it - not that he'd ever get into it in the first place. if you don't like beetles, rin will make sure that you never touch those damn books that momo carries everywhere. there's a drama cd where momo and nitori chase after pyunsuke because he escaped, if rin even so much as hears that pyunsuke got close to you, he will genuinely be the cause of momo's downfall

+ anyway, i feel like this is the season where you and rin truly get to know each other. sure, you were still a thing in season 1, but you didn't have much time because he was so focused on fixing his issues with his teammates. now that you actually have the time, he makes sure that it happens and that it's perfect.

+ he'll probably start with going out with you as much as he can. now that his duties align with being captain and looking over training schedules, he might cancel a few times and he will feel rotten about it, but sometimes, those decisions are crucial to him. he just trusts that you'll understand the situation :( but if it ever gets too much and you tell him, he'll be a bit like ? at the start, but he'll grow to realise that he really has been an ass

+ when he's also upset with sousuke's injury, he'll tell you about it because he doesn't know what to do about it. he's clearly conflicted about what to do because he knows sousuke wants to swim but he physically can't. you'd be there to hold him and he'd find his peace there and then with you

+ since he's a lot closer with the iwatobi guys too, you guys all tend to hang out with each other. nagisa for sure has a nickname for you too and rei bombards you with random questions. makoto is always sweet and haru's just there acknowledging you. all in all, life is great!

+ lol that extra frfr episode where rin is dressed as a butler, YOU WERE THERE WHEN HE HAD TO BE A MAID LAST YEAR, you're 100% there to support him as a butler this time and he appreciates it(?) momo, on the other hand, is so embarrassed that you have to see him this way. nitori's just cute as always

[ take your marks / dive to the future ]

+ bru his momma and sister loves you like has that not already been established? gou thinks of you like her family already and mrs matsuoka, the one and only, is already so excited for your future. will tease about grandchildren, but she won't prod!

+ since he trains in sydney, this is where things might get a bit difficult, but that's ok! i, as the author, have created two options.

+ option a) you do not live in sydney with him, therefore, you are long-distancing. this might break him apart little by little i bet because although this time, he's not alone since he's made new friends in sydney AND he's got russell and lori somewhere nearby, none of that is shared with you.

+ will try to call you every day. sometimes, if he's too exhausted or if you're too exhausted, you might understand each other's circumstances, but if this happens too often he might get a bit upset. he's already alone in the apartment, so his thoughts might get to him. you've already seen what he's like when he was in high school second year

+ since you live near his family's house, if you go visit him mom and sister on a regularly basis, he'll be so grateful and might cry because he feels sorry that he can't do it himself. just knowing that you have a good relationship with the two other people he cherishes so much makes his heart swell

+ will definitely try to plan things like you coming to visit him or vice versa. it might be difficult and he'll be impatient with it, but that will get him nowhere! when it works he will actually be all over you, taking you to his favourite places, meeting russell and lori and begging you not to go back, but he'll suck it back up in the end and impatiently wait for your next trip to australia

+ option b) you live in sydney with him! 100% he'd suggest moving in together because why not? he'd support whatever you do in australia be it working or attending university, as long as you're both together, he literally feels like he can take on the world

+ on the days your schedule aligns, you'll walk over to where he trains and wait or he'll finish early and come pick you up at work or university, then the two of you would get dinner together. NOW since this is the season where natsuya appears, natsuya would just invite himself to dinner LOL and prod you about why you're dating a loser like rin. it's fun making fun of rin really

[ road to the world / the final stroke ]

+ HAS HE GOT DOWN ON ONE KNEE YET?? probably not, he probably wants a private proposal to be honest. if he DOES plan on doing so i bet he'll ask sousuke for advice even though bro doesn't even have anyone himself. bro will probably just say something like "you'll know." like ok thanks bro

+ if you guys haven't seen the movie and don't mind spoilers, haru basically goes through this big crisis where he's immensely overwhelmed by albert, the swedish swimmer who's a literal beast in the water. he pushed rin away at the end of the movie in road to the world 1, so there was a big issue there and you picked up on that when rin started acting distanced

+ throughout the years, i doubt rin changes when it comes to laying out his problems to you, but it's not because he doesn't trust you, i think it's because he's had his responsibilities as a captain and older brother / eldest son that he feels obliged to keep it in.

+ but despite that, i think your relationship with rin during this season would be rock solid in that you guys trust each other so much that you could go on a spontaneous trip to spain and he'll be like "ok, there must be a reason."

+ rin would probably dedicate a lot of his awards to you. he might not mention your name unless you're comfortable with it. if you're in the stands watching him receive his medal, he'll definitely search for you and hold the medal out to you. if you're not in the stands, he'll stare right into the camera and be like "this is for you, you know it"

+ will of course be ok with you wearing his medal. he'll even put it on you or make a big show as if you competed and won it. he'll get embarrassed and tell you to stop if you shower him with praise and how he did so good in the race, but he's secretly enjoying that shit. keep doing it he'll start crying again

[glitzreyasblog]

ask yourself: “why can’t the law be that simple?”

⊹₊꒷︶꒷꒦‧₊˚⊹

yeah, it is as simple as just fulfilling yourself and then moving on. that’s kind of how everything works, not just the law. when you want something, like a new phone for example, you get your phone and you’re content. and then you move on with your day. you don’t constantly think that you need to acknowledge your new phone in order to have it, do you? when you buy the bag you wanted, you don’t think that simply buying it isn’t enough do you? when you buy your favorite artists cd, you don’t think that you don’t have it because you’re not feeling ecstatic, do you? no. you acknowledge that you have it, and then you move on. it’s that simple and you’ve accepted that it’s that simple, so accept that with the law too. the things you feel like you have to do— constantly feel ecstatic, think about your desire 24/7, do methods 1000 times a day— aren’t going to leave you with nothing if you don’t do them. if you feel anxious just remind yourself it’s done, you have it. the law isn’t something that requires extra steps, it’s just as simple as everything else. because why shouldn’t the law be that simple? we feel like we should be doing more because we’ve had it drilled into our heads that we have to work hard for stuff, that you can’t snap your finger and make your dream life appear. but now that you’ve discovered the law, those beliefs and assumptions have been challenged. and of course that’s going to feel uncomfortable, so go easy on yourself, remind yourself that creation’s finished, and remember that the law (and getting what you want) really is that simple.

[k1ttenblood]

✨️Grandmacore headcanons for Modern!Abby x Reader✨️

Honestly this should be titled "why isn't this my life, this should be me right fucking now??" It's just slow living headcanons tbh, cozy slice of life stuff.

Content Disclaimer: These headcanons are based off of a rich/modern Abby AU. Reader's appearance isn't mentioned, minus the collage pic.

- Prior to dating her, you heard Abby mention that no one's ever made her a Christmas stocking. In that very moment, you knew what you were gonna do. You went home and knitted her a stocking, and filled it with handmade goodies like little sewn toys and cookies

- From that point on you made it a habit to make random granny type gifts for her. Patching up little holes in her socks, knitting her cozy scarves, sewing her a throw blanket, all the things she's never gotten in her glamorous wealthy world.

- She seems like she has everything, but you truly love spoiling her with the more simple, heartfelt things in life. She loves that you've grounded her and shown her so much warmth. You don't expect her to be on 24/7 and she can relax in her shell if she wants.

- She's your favorite bookworm, so you love surprising her with cool bookmarks that you stumble across. Basically the equivalent of buying your husband gag ties.

- You act like an old married couple, her dad and Lev find it cute (or gross, but that's mostly Lev) when you guys bicker at brunch like

"Abby, you're moving my seat when you shake your leg like that! Relax!!"

"No no, that's the Earth's gravitational pull taking you away from me. Nice knowing you, baby <3"

"-blows straw wrapper into her ear-"

"You're a child!!"

- You go bird watching together. Neither of you can recall the correct names, but you guys have fun making up equally silly replacements for the "demon screecher" or the "black tailed menace to society". You've definitely argued that you could totally take one of the nearby park's geese in a fight. Abby snickers and says she'd watch from the car with popcorn.

- You both really look forward to the weekend, but not for the stereotypical reasons. You love waking up next to each other without waiting for an alarm to go off. She gets up, stretches, and makes sure she doesn't disturb you while she gets ready for her early morning head-start. She goes for a jog with Alice, washes the car, waters the plants, and comes back inside just in time for breakfast. 

- This is extra self indulgent, I would 1000% put Abby on to all sorts of niche teas. Harney and Sons fans please rise.

- I feel like she probably reads the newspaper? Nothing says power couple like one partner reading the paper while the other watches Barefoot Contessa.

- Laundry day goes by so quick when you spend half the time stealing her t-shirts and trying to trap each other in the freshly heated blankets. It's a well deserved reward for getting through all of the other boring chores without each other.

- She loves that you match her introverted nature. She doesn't feel like she's staying at parties way later than she'd like to, but you do insist that she goes to them for at least a small while. Outings between the 2 of you are usually low energy.

- Going to see The Nutcracker for Christmas is a tradition you both look forward to. Abby insists on spicing up the occasion by having a carriage pick you up in the park and take you the venue. She never mentions that it gives her a good excuse to hold you closer, hold your hands and press cozy, warm kisses to your cheek, but you sOmEhOw pick up on her brazen subtlety.

- Speaking of that, you both enjoy classical music. She was shocked to find that you also liked it, usually people giggle when they see her CD collection (although you're pretty sure people are giggling because she still has CDs). Eventually you drag home a record player from the local antique shop, and now it's Abby's turn to laugh. Half laughing at your ridiculousness, half laughing at how much the gesture tugs at her heart strings.

- You love watching her hunt for the next little bits of her hobby collection. You've gone with her to several antique shops and thrift stores so that she could possibly find a special vintage coin. The amount of money you've watched her fork over just for one old penny makes you smirk every time you think about it.

- She loves to help you bake. When you decided to start making sourdough, it was like the 2 of you decided to adopt a child.

"Did you feed her yet? She's looking a little sluggish..."

"It's not time yet, we're supposed to up her feeding from once a day to every 12 hours on the dot. Got 2 more hours left."

"Alright, do you need me to burp her this time?"

"Y'know out of context, someone would probably get the wrong idea about this little exchange..."

- Speaking of adoption, you guys would definitely get a cat. Abby strikes me as a dog person but I think if you're a cat person, she'd still be happy to get one.

- You loooove knitting your fur babies matching sweaters. Alice is more tolerant of it than the kitty though. You're definitely wearing matching sweaters for holiday cards. I'm sure Lev rolls his eyes every time he gets his, wondering if his big sister has always been this dorky.

- Abby blends in with the older men at the gym, they all talk about their 30 year marriages and they can't tell whether or not you guys have tied the knot, just considering the way she gushes about you. It's the same deal when she meets her dad's colleagues at the country club.

- Going with her to the country club is always an event. You don't golf or anything, but you like the cute outfits and honestly... So does Abby 🫦 Sometimes you're both extra lovey-dovey and she "helps" you with your form. The other members are plenty used to it now, though Abby is just as reserved as the older couples anyway.

- There's something special about going to Those™ luxury shopping centers and looking at furniture with her. You usually don't buy anything but one time you did get a hammock for your yard. You spend hours hand-in-hand, walking through each store, strolling across the giant outdoor walkways, and picking out some treats from the concessions. I feel like she'd pick a pretzel dog and a churro from Auntie Anne's.

- Those days are always perfectly lazy. Driving into the hills, window shopping in the mall, going home to your favorite leftovers, and falling asleep in each other's arms to King of the Hill.

[nyxtickled]

i’ve seen a few people do musician monday and figured what better time to contribute, now that i finally have a keyboard to play on? (honorable mention: lil belly pouch hehe)

warning: i am not a proper musician so don’t come for my finger positions!!!! i know they’re wrong. i knowwww my pinky just kinda floats there bc i never learned the right hand positions. if u wanna learn more about my piano history, read below the cut<3

i’ve always had a fixation with the piano, since elementary school. the first time i played around with one, i was probably about 6-7 when i had a basic little electric keyboard. didn’t do anything fancy, but i was an only child so i used to just listen to my favorite CDs and then try to play the songs. the first song i taught myself was 1000 years by vanessa carlton lmao.

i never really got into lessons and idk why. i don’t know how to read sheet music, i don’t remember what the notes are called, i don’t know what any of the chords or keys are called. playing a piano is more of a puzzle-solving game for me, where i listen to songs that i find beautiful (usually they don’t even have piano in them, just pretty melodies/harmonies) and then i try to find the matching sounds on the piano.

it takes me anywhere from days to weeks to months, depending on how ambitious of a song i’m trying to cover (the wildest one i ever did was Its Not A Fashion Statement It’s A Fucking Deathwish by MCR lmaooo i swear it actually sounds so pretty on the piano tho) and it’s something that i’ll basically just sit there and hyperfixate on until ive worked the whole thing out. ofc that comes with memorizing it too, so usually i can kinda sorta play the song, but i have to practice it a million times until i can play it all the way thru.

i would love to learn how to play the piano like a Real Musician and like, read music and know what everything is called etc. it’s on my bucket list. but there’s just something so fun and peaceful and meditative about just sitting there and sorting it out by ear, it kinda feels like solving a rubik’s cube in a way.

anyway this is just me trying to remember how to play part of a song called severus and stone by radical face. it’s prolly my favorite song of all time bc of the story it tells and the artist himself but i ain’t getting into all that rn. the section of the song i pulled this part from goes like this:

brother woke just after midnight, and he didn’t make a sound. but as he climbed from out of bed with severed rings around his head, his feet didn’t touch the ground- i could feel it then, a tiny miracle, so i followed him into the woods. crossed beneath the trees, but only i left my prints in tow; he was afloat. found a lonely tree, tied himself within its limbs, and he said to me these words: “don’t you fear for me, for i am where i’m supposed to be.”

[child0feden]

- this is my writing blog and my side blog! my virtual photography blog and my main blog is @day0fnight -

! I WRITE RPF, IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THAT THEN PLEASE JUST CLICK AWAY, SPARE YOURSELF THE TIME OF SENDING ME A COMPLAINT ABOUT IT !

first metal masterlist - link limit reached!

second metal masterlist

black metal dad au masterlist

video game masterlist

movie masterlist

to keep it short and simple, i am an 18 year old girl from britain who goes by either elsie or vera, you can call me either one but you can also call me just about anything else too, and i am she / her! my private messages are always open and please do not ever hesitate to send me a message if you wish to talk to me about anything at all, i welcome all messages with open arms :)

i adore anything related to cats, anteaters and sheep! i like to take walks in quiet places, especially old cemeteries and forests, sometimes i take very amateur pictures on these walks and post them here under the photodump tag

i love listening to metal music and have for a long time now, i have a super special soft spot for british metal bands! when i can, i collect CDs and sometimes post here about new additions under the cd collection tag

i collect a bunch of different little things like pins, figurines, replica items and so on, sometimes i might post here about my collections under the my collection tag! please do check out my featured tags for much more quick and easy blog navigation <3

i spend most of my time playing video games, reading books, watching a lot of often very old horror movies and writing amateur fanfiction whenever i feel like it

request status: always open

claimed anon emojis 🐰 - 🍓 - 🦝 - 🦚 - 🐇 - 🦇 - 🐩 - 🐀 - 🕸 - 🪰 - ⚜️ - 🫀 - 🫧 - ✨ - ⚗️ - 🦖 - 🐧 - 🧸

you can request dating headcanons, nsfw alphabets or any other kind of specific headcanons for any band member, movie character or video game character! you can also just send in your little thoughts about someone for me to expand on a bit :)

i will not write real incest, real rape or sexual assault, major abuse, anything about people or characters who are underage, necrophilia, scat and age regression or age play

please be patient and specify exactly who you want and what you want the headcanons to be, you can request for any band member or character you like! almost no band member is off limits for me, there is a chance i might not be super familiar with them but i would definitely do some research before writing for them <3

my favourite music playlists ( some more can be found on my spotify profile )

butterflies and records - dont nod

waiting for you - silent hill

death metal - black metal

some of my favourite musicians / bands are trembling void, genocide, aeon winds, carcass, akira yamaoka, venom, aura noir, angmaer, windir, brutal truth, necrofeast, graveland, nekrokult, morstice, blasphemy, necromantia, desaster, lady gaga, emit, heathen deity, emperor, die antwoord, marduk, anubi, godkiller, daniel lanois, enthroned, dissection, health, darvulia, in battle, warrior, beherit, zetra and black pyre

my favourite video games are lollipop chainsaw, red dead redemption, silent hill, grand theft auto IV, the last of us, gone home, alice: madness returns, far cry 5, lost records: bloom and rage, cyberpunk 2077, a plague tale: requiem, life is strange, rumble roses, ghost of tsushima, siren, telltales the walking dead, lost in random, fatal frame and god of war

some of my favourite tv shows / movies are the crow, coraline, final destination, the dark crystal, black christmas, the texas chainsaw massacre, true romance, natural born killers, house of 1000 corpses, the warriors, reservoir dogs, 3:10 to yuma, sukkubus, the munsters, terrifier, my first summer, countess dracula, the cement garden, this is england, twin peaks, tell it to the bees and carrie

this blog and my main blog ( @day0fnight ) are two of the very few social media profiles i have! the only other socials i have and use are listed below, feel free to follow me or contact me on any of these if you wish to / need to :)

my profile on spotify - my profile on gg - my profile on ao3 - my profile on instagram

i can be found over on discord under the username child0feden aka the same username i use here <3

[genitorturerss]

--------------- | ɪɴᴛʀᴏ !! | --------------

-ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛꜱ-

I like a whole bunch of movies (mainly horror), collecting cool stuff, drawing, games, & exploring outside. I collect stuff such as bones, antiques, records, dvds, cds, & many other trinkets. I looove drawing a lot. I like some games such as COF, Postal, Mortal Kombat, Resident evil, Silent hill, DOOM, Blood, Afraid of Monsters, Minecraft, & many more. Some of my favorite movies are Dazed & Confused, Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, House of 1000 corpses (love Rob Zombie movies!), Zero Day, & Tombstone! I do also rlly like William Hellfire & Joey Smack.

-ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ-

I use any pronouns & I dont mind what you call me! I love animals & my favorite might be bats or mice! I love going outside & taking pictures of stuff & whatnot. I draw some traditional stuffs and I'll totally post some whenever I feel like it! I collect a lot like I said before and I absolutely adore collecting porcelain dolls! they're so precious to me. I have some rlly sucky social anxiety so I might be awkward when talking to new people </3 I also really like candles & incense! Alsoo have a cat! shes super super cutes!

-ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ-

I love music a whole bunch & I have a pretty eclectic taste in music! My top artists may be KMFDM, Genitorturers, Jack off Jill, LSD & the Search for God, Acumen Nation, Title Fight, Elliott Smith, Strawberry Switchblade, Chemlab, Heelflip, & The Beatles! I had a huge thing for The Beatles a while ago but I still adore them! I like genres of goth, punk, rock, metal (mainly industrial & black metal), shoegaze, midwest emo, antifolk, some rap, crunkcore, goregrind, older country & folk, & many more! I like basically anything ranging from the 1920s to now! Im up to listening to anything! I also have a whole bunch of records (abt 270ish) and some cds which im starting to collect and some I have burnt myself! Music is a fun topic for me :3

___________________________________________

:3 hai haiii hai hai haiiiii pls im cool pls pls

[fandoms--fluff]

Can you do a Reader where yn Is elijah's daughter and she's an heretic (not a siphoner) x Katherine Pierce where they are girlfriends

Dating Katherine Pierce as a Mikaelson Headcannons

Your dad would definitely be stunned when finding out about you and Katherine

But then he would go into crazy protective mode, not wanting anything to happen to his little girl, even though you yourself are almost 1000 years old as your family

You'd teach Katherine all the things you can do within being a witch as well as a vampire

Talking with your Aunt Rebekah about her and being all star-eyed

You guys kept the secret from your family for almost two years before telling your father

And with that, came sneaking out a lot or lying where you're going. And worked splendidly. Which is weird considering how all your family has enhanced hearing.

Having to make sure your father hadn't followed you guys on the first couple dates after he found out about you and Katherine

Blasting the cd player and dancing together while drinking from the bourbon bottle>>>

Your uncle Klaus would be pestering you with questions about Katherine, but you'd just ignore most of them

You guys have an apartment in town where you meet up most days and nights

^you keep it a secret from your family, only Rebekah knows about it

Katherine getting you to siphon off her when it's needed

Blood sharing>>

Taking a trip to New York and having the time of your lives

Sharing clothes with each other

Like at some point you guys just share multiple closets, not caring who's is who's.

Putting protective shielding spells on her when an enemy of your family or anyone else trying to get revenge on her or you.

Going shopping together and 'spending' a ton of money

^Why'd you guys pay for things when you can easily compel the cashiers ;)

Being very protective of her when Mikael come back to the living

The same is said when your dad learns of Mikael's presence. If he could lock you in a tower like Rapunzel, he probably would.

Sneaking Katherine into your room in the early myths of your relationship

Gazing into each other's eyes when on dates

Teaching her how to read some of the spells in your grimoires

[amaryllidaceaee]

dates

hi im autistic and i like numbers and dates so im gonna think abt that with petrigrof to think about a timeline because its fun

Since this is an early mobile phone

mobile phones became available to the public in 1983

and this (came out about: HMMM its giving me early 2000s like early early 2002 but correct me if im wrong) like I remember round cd players like this but also to be fair we had flip phones until 2018 so we were behind ig

cheers ran from 1982 to 1993

(also fun detail from stakes the song marceline sings with two bread tom is from a sit com that ran from 1985 to 1990 as well)

also if hes doing an exhibit about the 1990s they already happened

Also fionnas phone is from 2000 so 2000 happened and made phones

So yeah like a lot of ppl i think the mushroom war took place in the 2000s and betty and simon probably met in the early 1990s maybe even late 1980s if we think abt it hooray her headphones also give early 1990s

BUT IM NOT DONE

The average age for a grad student in the us is 33 so lets say they are in their late 20s early 30s when they meet in 1993 (im just making stuff up now) im gonna say shes 27 or 28 since its implied she is Currently a grad student and im ignoring marcys scrapbook because that will never make sense) and hes already graduated that and is doing a phd okay so say hes 30 more or less in 1993

If a person is 30 in 1993 that means they were born in 1963 and in 2003 they would be forty so simon and marcy would take place in 2010 if hes approx 47 and marceline is 7 she would have been born exactly in 2003 when the war and apocalypse happened which yknow my maths and estimates not great but i think is interesting anyway. Im gonna say he puts on the crown in the year 2000 and betty also disappears into the future in 2000

Also if betty is 28 (born 1965) when they meet plus 7 years means she is 35 when she goes into the future and 37 in come along with me

also if finn is 16 when elements takes place and shes on mars all through to temple of mars that means she spends a year on mars more or less and about 2-3 years in the future/ooo

If simon reverts back to before the crown that would make him 40 lets say and 52 in fionna and cake

Also if simon puts on the crown in 2000 and he leaves marceline when she is 11-10 years old it takes him approx 14 years to get to that point which is just interesting but also sad

more fun things

996 years from 2010 is 3006

finn is born 2992 (if he is 14)

also shermy and beth (if its 1000 years from 3009) would take place in 4009 making marceline 2006 years old by that point