#also so much for “I’m not gonna make a poll like that because everyone knows who’s gonna sweep”

[fierykitten2]

Falcon or Robert? Who’s the most normal guy in the F-Zero Grand Prix? I’d make a poll but I don’t want a repeat of the last time I compared the two of them in a poll (the first three votes went to Robert, admittedly the first one was me, then the other five votes went to Falcon thank you Smash fandom)

[futureman]

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him. 

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well. 

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 

Now, you want something else. 

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all.��

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 

"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

[nanaminokanojo]

BAD NEWS | CHAPTER INDEX/PROLOGUE (Ongoing)

-just when you thought you were over your humongous crush on your older brother’s best friend, geto suguru, you couldn’t be more dead wrong, and maybe there isn’t really anything holding you back from acting on it now that you’re all grown up…except satoru doesn’t like suguru for you because he knows his kind all too well: a huge ass playboy who breaks hearts like he changes socks. but you think. MAYBE you’ll be the exception...maybe not.

CHARACTERS: drummer!geto suguru x (fem/afab) reader | gojo satoru | itadori yuuji | kugisaki nobara | fushiguro megumi | sukuna | fushiguro toji | nanami kento | choso | tsukumo yuuki | shoko ieiri | utahime iori

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | band au, tats, piercings, the whole shebang | college au | stupid pining | aged-up characters | friends to lovers (?) | this is gonna have smutty stuff because why not?

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts; just skip them. you’re not missing much | mentions of alcohol, drugs | mentions of cheating, promiscuity, mild dubcon (consent >>>), etc. | again, god-awful pet names i’d cringe at if a 3d person says it | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

AKI’S NOTES: I would like to express my sincerest thanks to everyone who loved and supported “Thawing Ice Queen” as well as those who participated in the poll on which smau I’m going to write next. So, this is what won in said poll, and I hope it gets as much as love as TIQ if not more. Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with TIQ). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color (even if you’re/the reader is gojo’s sister here). it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

MASTERLIST

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240331]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[imsofuckinggayforwomen]

SANEMI HEAD CANONS

(as determined in the previous poll)

Hello everyone! Thanks so much for all of the 300+ votes I got on that poll, that’s like crazy 😦 rengoku and sanemi tied so we’re just gonna write for both! Rengoku’s will be in a separate post because imma be shitfaced when I’m done with this.

These head canons will involve sfw and nsfw, so if you are a minor please do not read past the part labeled NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Fem reader

(MINORS DO NOT CONTINUE AFTER THE NSFW LABEL I AM SLASH SRS)

Sanemi

Sfw

He’s a cold guy, giving out glares to anyone that looks in his direction.

But for you, his eyes briefly soften.

He refuses to admit it, but he truly turns into mush when you’re around.

Always keeps a hand on one of your body parts, hand, thigh, waist. He’s extremely protective, especially after losing the majority of his loved ones. He swears to protect you forever. Poor genya

Shows more affection when the two of you are alone, not wanting his coworkers to see him all lovey dovey. Only you get to see that

He’s like one of those guys that talk to you in a baby voice asking for attention but then the moment someone walks into the room his voice drops like 5 octaves.

Literally will not let you get out of bed earlier than him. Like his arms anchor you to the bed.

If you’re also a hashira, he makes sure that you both are always assigned together on missions. He knows you are capable enough to take care of yourself, but he can’t help the fear of not being there when you need him.

Trains with you but absolutely refuses to actually spar you. He couldn’t bare the thought of accidentally hurting you.

If he’s called out on his love for you in public he literally turns into a tomato.

NSFW

Oh boy, this guy is insane

He wants to love and cherish your beautiful body but he can’t help but feel the need to claim you

Once you give him the go ahead, he quite literally pounces on you.

Eats you out for hours, it’s basically impossible to pry him off.

Will start out by teasing you, giving small kitten licks to your wetness. He loves the frustrated face you make when he doesn’t give you what you want.

Cant tease forever, he yearns to see you throbbing with pleasure.

When he starts sucking your clit, you almost double over.

This man has a goal and he IS going to get it.

doesn’t even think about his own needs until his face and fingers are drenched in your arousal.

When he finally gets to the real shit, he starts extremely slow. Not wanting to hurt you.

He gives you time to adjust before carefully thrusting into you

However, when pleased mewls began to erupt from your mouth, he simply cannot hold back any longer

Bro changes his pace entirely, gripping onto your thighs and pulling his hips all the way back.

At first, you’re confused, but then he slams himself back into you.

Your breath literally disappears from your lungs as he feverishly thrusts into you.

Please pull his hair

He Bites and sucks on your neck whilst your fingers curl into his white locks.

Reaches his free hand down to passionately rub your clit, quite different from his hips roughly knocking into yours.

When you begin to reach your climax, he nearly finishes from the sight of you.

As your back arches in pleasure, his fingers quicken and his hips continue their pace.

When your orgasm hits, his does as well. The both of you moaning and riding out your high’s together.

immediately gets you water and makes sure you are okay.

Aftercare 100000%

Runs a nice bath and washes your hair for you

don’t comment on his flushed face.

If you fall asleep in the bath, he’ll dry you off and carry you to bed.

I hope you guys liked this!! I’m going to continue rengoku’s part in a separate post, I’ll probably write it later tonight after I shower and do my 1000 step skin care routine.

Comments, likes, reblogs are all appreciated!!

[strang3lov3]

Holy fuck! Not one, but TWO milestones to celebrate!

Sometime in April I hit 5000 followers and I was gonna celebrate then, but with my one year fic anniversary gbu899i (< my cat Gizmo typed this, we're leaving it here. Everyone wave to him) and mostly because the end of the semester right around the corner, I decided to wait until May in order to give this the attention it deserves. Here we are! May 10th marks one year of me writing fic here on tumblr, and I want to celebrate both achievements.

Your support has played such a vital role in making writing such a gratifying hobby of mine. Whether you’ve been here since I started writing a year ago or just recently stumbled across my blog, it means the world to me. Having people read, like, reblog, comment, and engage with my fics is beyond fucking incredible. You keep me inspired to keep writing.

It’s not easy for me to stick to a hobby for a year. Ask the 20% finished afgan I started knitting two years ago that hasn’t been touched in months!! It’s beyond cool to have both a date on the calendar and such a pretty number to reflect how hard I’ve worked, and neither the date nor the number would be possible without you. Thank you 🩷

So we’re gonna celebrate. I haven’t done one of these before, unless you count the time I hit 2000 followers and said “send me requests!” and then did just one of them and zero others because I was so overwhelmed. So we’re taking a slightly different approach this time…

I’m thinking an extended sleepover, lol. Depending on how many participate, for a week or so you can send me asks from the prompts below and we’ll have some fun with them.

@noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal heavily inspired these choices with their recent follower celebrations 🩵

🐈‍⬛ Show and tell - send me pics of your pets, or Pedro if you don’t have any pets, brownie points for Kieran Culkin pics, or anything else that you love. And tell me all about it, and I’ll show you something I love! 👯‍♀️ I want to get to know each other better, so tell something about yourself or ask something about me. If you want, you can use this and this (⬅️ two send an emoji posts) for prompts 🏞️ Request a Moodboard (my favorite) I love doing moodboards, just tell me what you wanna see and I’ll do my best. 🗳️Send me a poll that you wanna see! Ask any question, let us all decide the answer. 🍆 Send me your dirty horny old man headcanons. I’m a horndog for some old men and I can’t change who I am. 📖 Send me your own writing (or another’s work that you love) I actually have a summer reading project where I’ve tagged each and every one of my mutuals to send me their own works for me to read all summer. So consider this just an extension of that- please send me the links to works you’ve written and/or works you’ve read and enjoyed so that I can enjoy them too and support fellow writers ✍️ 🩷 I enjoy just about anything, but I have a soft spot for dark/dub-con, masturbation, uhhhh anything hot and dirty like that. 👩‍💻Request some writing. I can do Joel, Roman Roy, and I’m maaaybe feeling brave about Frankie. @beefrobeefcal has dibs on my first Frankie fic anyway. Horny and debauched thots encouraged, dare I suggest dark as well? Fluff too, though I think I suck balls at writing it. I’ve been told I should do drabbles,,, that’s not really how I roll with my writing but I’m willing to try. It’s entirely possible and actually likely you’ll get a full length fic, in which case, it’ll take some time to get those done so bear with me. Depending on how many requests for writing I get, I may cut off requests at a certain point too. *It’s also possible I won’t jive with your idea, in which case please don’t feel bad. I only want to write something I feel I can do well, and if I can’t, that’s not on you.

GOD I am a rambler. I could have said so much less. But I hope to hear from some of you all and have some fun! Love you love you love you.

Tagging some friends, readers, and mutuals who’ve made writing what it is for me 🩷 I love you all @ievutebebe @pinkypromisepascal @yazsos @heartfairy @magpiepills @medellintangerine @merz-8 @bitchesuntitled @theweedisasterxoxo @covetyou @theywhowriteandknowthings @futuraa-free @smok3r7 @toxicanonymity @atticrissfinch @xdaddysprincessxx @whatsnewalycat @addictedtotlou @littlevenicebitch69 @marisferasiop @joelsgreys @just-some-random-blogger @ghostlovesbaguettes @sweetenerobert @swiftiegirliepop @joeloverture @dorims @munsonhoneybaby @umnitsa @nostalxgic @yazsos @rainbowcosmicchaos @rav3n-pascal22 @604to647 @starry-eyes-love @paleidiot @bluecookies-and-ink @beardedjoel @aestheticisinq @corazondebeskar @axshadows @kyloispunk @survivingandenduring @pedroswife69 @bean-is-reading @pedroshotwifey @casa-boiardi @knittingandfanfics @molt3ngold @worhols @iknowisoundcrazy @nostalxgic @pattwtf @cerridwen007 @corozondebeskar @blackmetalamazon @jazzysnazzys @sheepdogchick3 @alltheseperfectimperfections @mermaidgirl30

[indigogvf]

Bottled up

Summary: Jake comforts you after a bad week at work.

Warnings: Crying? There’s no others that I can think of, just lots of comfort and fluff.

Word count: 1279

AN: Thanks for helping me decide which fic to do on my poll!! Im still gonna do the other two at some point, but Jake comfort was the winner so you’re getting this one first😁

Also, my requests are open!! I’d love to hear any ideas.

You just finished work, and you’re walking rather quickly to your car, whilst also desperately holding back tears to avoid your boss after he gave you a deadline for a presentation; a presentation he told you about yesterday. And the deadline is on Monday.

It’s Friday.

After the immense stress and pressure you’ve been holding in this week, it was safe to say you were now at your breaking point.

You practically threw yourself into your car as tears started streaming down your face, not wanting to catch the attention of any coworkers who might also be leaving. Everything that had even slightly upset or bothered you this week now seemed earth shattering as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’ve been pushing away. You were never one to talk about how you felt; you always felt as if no one really cared, or that you were being a burden. Everyone has their own stuff going on, why do they need yours to think about too?

You pulled up in the driveway, taking a deep breath before getting out of your car and making your way to the house. You walked in, chucking your keys on the side table and hanging your coat up. “Jake, I’m home.” You called out. You walked through to the kitchen to see where he was after you heard no response, and found him cutting up some type of vegetable, which you couldn’t quite see because he was in the way. “Hey. What are you making?” You questioned.

“Hey, honey. I’m making lasagna for dinner. I know it’s your favourite, and I wanted to do something nice for you.” He smiled. You took a deep breath, not wanting to start up the waterworks for the second time. He was so good to you.

“Oh. That’s very thoughtful of you, Jake. Thank you.” You returned his smile as he pulled you in for a sweet little kiss. “I’m gonna head upstairs and take a shower.” You began walking away,

“Wait!” He called, “How was work?”

You were really hoping you’d dodged that question.

“Uh.. yeah, it was fine.” You briskly walked away, desperately trying to avoid any further questions.

You failed.

“Just fine? Are you sure?” He paused for a moment, awaiting your response. When you hesitated, he continued. “You’ve been a little off with me this week.. have I done something wrong? Is there something going on elsewhere that’s bothering you?”

Fuck.

You hate this. You almost hate yourself for this. You’ve been pushing him away all week, attempting to avoid this exact conversation. As much as you want to just curl up on the couch with him and bathe in his love and affection, you knew yourself too well. You knew you’d crack and end up crying to him about how stressed you’ve been, which is exactly what you want to avoid. You hate that you’ve made him feel like he’s done something wrong. You can feel your lip quivering as you hold back your tears for the second time since you’ve come home. “I’m sorry. I.. I just-“ aaaand here it comes.

You put your head in your hands as you start bawling, trying to conceal the fact that you’re most definitely not okay. Although you think it’s fairly obvious, because Jake rushes over to you, embracing you in a tight hug as your body shakes against his. “Hey, it’s okay. Shhh. Just let it all out,” He says softly into your ear whilst gently stroking your hair. “Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?” He prods.

You collect yourself, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself enough to explain yourself. “I’m sorry for pushing you away all week. You didn’t do anything, I’ve just had a week from hell. I didn’t want to be a burden to you so I just kept it to myself, but I knew if you were to ask about my day, I’d crack.” You mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed because saying it out loud makes you feel slightly pathetic.

“What makes you think you can’t talk to me? You can always talk to me - about anything. I want to be there for you, honey. But I can’t if i don’t know when there’s something bothering you. Your problems will never burden me, I promise. Now, tell me what happened.” He reassures you, still giving gentle strokes across your hair.

You knew your thought process was slightly unnecessary when it came to Jake. He’s never made you feel like you can’t talk to him; in fact, you know you can talk to him. You assume it was from when you were a teenager and your two friends ignored you for being upset, and then proceeded to tell you it was draining to be around you. You’re glad that Jake shows you nothing of the sort.

“Well, on Monday, there was four clients who phoned and screamed at me down the phone for the way that their previous issues were handled. I didnt even deal with their original complaints. On Tuesday, my boss called me for a meeting about those calls and basically questioned my ability to do my job, despite the fact that I told him multiple times I didn’t handle their original complaints. On Wednesday, my coworker shouted at me in front of the entire office about how i didn’t send him some documents he needed, even though he didn’t tell me about them. On Thursday I split my coffee on my cream coloured jumper and had to walk around with a giant stain down my chest. Today, my boss gave me a deadline for a presentation. He told me about the presentation on Thursday, and the deadline is on Monday.” You took a breath, feeling like you were suffocating because of how quickly and passionately you listed all of the problems of the week.

“Oh, love. I’m sorry. You don’t deserve to be treated this way. You’re always working so hard, it’s a shame they can’t see that. Have you thought about working somewhere else? You deserve to be respected and seen for your work, and I don’t think you’re going to get that at this company.” He spoke in the most delicate voice.

You thought for a moment, contemplating his suggestion of getting a new job. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about that; but I think you might be right.” You replied.

Jake pulled you closer to him, placing your head on his chest. “You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?” He asked.

“I do. I guess I just overthink it sometimes.” You said, reassuring him.

“Do you promise you’ll talk to me next time?” He held his pinky finger out.

“I pinky promise, Jake.” You shook his pinky as you smiled at each other.

He pulled you in for a gentle kiss to your lips and then planted kisses around your face, leaving an extra big one on your forehead. You giggled in response, already feeling much better.

“Why don’t we eat our lasagna and try to come up with some solutions that might make your work easier, and then cuddle on the couch with a movie on in the background, hm? That sound good, pretty girl?” He suggested.

“Mmm, that sounds amazing. Thank you, Jake. I love you.” You nuzzled your head into his chest. You could hear his heartbeat gently thumping in your ear.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss on your head whilst simultaneously giving you a tight squeeze.

You loved him so much, it was almost too much. But you especially loved how loved he made you feel.

[accio-victuuri]

BXGs + IQIYI night ( and other fandom issues ) 🍵

11/25 is upon us and i’m personally excited to see WYB at a public event but my expectations are in check. He is obviously there because of his work with Chang Feng Po Lang and he has some obligation to promote it this way. He has no drama that aired with them this year and he has virtually no ties with them like he would Youku or Tencent even if the latter was in the past.

So i’m not expecting him to be fighting it out with other celebrities present for the spotlight. He doesn’t need it, the attention will naturally fall on him anyway. He also doesn’t have to try so hard to be relevant because he is already WYB. As much as I would love for him to perform, I don’t think it’s gonna happen but I hope i’m wrong.

Anyway, since the event will have lots of celebrities, the fandom activities are on. As expected. Online, it will be making sure your bias will be on top comments about IQIYI night related posts. Or when the individual photos come out, most likely 11/24, WYB should have the highest likes or shares.

Sohu’s weibo account shared what offline activities fandoms are doing and the first one is WYB. ✌🏼

( caption: Fans of male artists on iQiyi’s Scream Night support offline. There are large-screen displays on various transportation and landmark buildings in Macau, exclusive customized banners, etc. the fans are so attentive. )

What I love about the post is the project they shared there is by BXGs. ☕️

It’s a ad screen to be played in two ports close to Macau. IQIYI night is gonna take place on the same venue where YH concert took place this year. So that’s a memorable place for BXGs too. This is not something new. If you’ve been into fandoms like this before, then it makes sense. It’s actually standard and pretty simple, nothing extravagant. There are even companies that will do voting polls and the winning fandom will have their faves on LED Ads.

Video below is how it actually looks like in Gong Bei port. So many foot traffic omg!!!! They even used an edit by Stardustkii who is everyone’s fave. && The video is focused on his Movie Era 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

If you look at the main post of Sohu, all the top comments are BXGS. Passion Fruit supports WYB! 💪🏼

The drama ( sort of ) comes from one of the “fanclubs” of WYB sharing and commenting on that Sohu post.

Wang Yibo Cool Leopard Club and all fans responded to the Cyberspace Administration of China's "Qinglang" series of special action calls to guide the positive development of the fandom and have always put an end to any irrational support behavior.

Reject any consumption and gathering behaviors in the name of artists; reject any irrational support and other illegal fandom behaviors; put an end to any extravagant and wasteful support habits!

Let’s all work together to do more things that are of positive significance to society and jointly maintain a harmonious online environment.

My first reaction to this, aside from heavy eye rolling for sure 🙄🙄🙄, is utter confusion. This is because as soon as WYB was announced, even before that, another WYB fan group was telling fans what time WYB will be announced so everyone comment. They were also doing test posts and preparation to make sure WYB has good KPI numbers online and offline for the event. Even WYB’s FC Guangdong Group was calling on people to meet in Macau.

So everyone was like ?????

and how some so/os were supporting that repost. I mean come on. this has nothing to do with qinglang. they are rejecting that post cause it’s a BXG project and once again, it’s a shame for so/os. it’s giving them flashbacks to what happened in YH concert in Macau where they utterly failed to show up for WYB. Tho I have to give it to them, pulling Qinglang and acting all high and mighty compared to other fandoms is an infuriatingly genius route to go. I’m in a different fandom, I don’t know what happens in the inner circle of WYB’s so/o fandom in CHN but this incident gives me the clue that they are once again uncoordinated. He has a couple of “fan clubs” and groups per city and that has always been the reason for lack of unity. I mean, hate the 🍤🍤🍤 all you want, but those bitches are coordinated as fuck. They listen to one account only. There are no scattered fan clubs. It is cult-ish in some ways but it works when it comes to making sure everyone is doing the same thing and working on the same goal.

WYB so/o fans in CHN should get their act together. I know they work so hard ( that green banner for GRA was so sweet ) and I see it, but the lack of planning and coordination in times like this is hard to watch.

Now I don’t know what SOHU’s motive is only that they wanted to cover fandom projects for IQIYI Scream night. Maybe whoever it is just saw Yibo and Green and thought that’s it? They didn’t know BJYXSZD? Who knows. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’m seeing BXGs who are going to Macau and are organizing together. I would think it’s harder to get tickets for this cause you are competing with other fandoms too. I just hope they have fun! I’m so excited for fansite photos too!

I was actually not supposed to share this cause it contains fandom “issue” which is sensitive. but the purpose of my tumblr have always been to write my thoughts… As much as cpfs are supposed to hate so/os and vice versa, I have never wished or hoped for their respective so/o fandoms to fail and be humiliated. Because they represent the boys and we support the same person.

Let’s just see what happens on 11/25 ✌🏼

[mfshipbracket]

the amount of homophobia this blogs reeks of is astronomical het ships do not need anymore attention than it should. This is already taking so much away from general queer rep in fandoms as it is, and honestly could have jus made a f/f or m/m bracket, but instead you chose to do this. I'm honestly disappointed

ohhh i was waiting for this. first of all ur talking to a queer person jot that down. and i hate to tell you this but i think a real life person’s experiences as a queer person weighs more than a fictional ship. like you can’t honestly tell me you care more about ship discourse than you do actual lgbt people

secondly i literally was never gonna talk abt ship discourse here re: sexuality because uhhhh. it’s not cool to debate lmao. i didn’t want to debate this. like i don’t have to justify myself as a queer person for liking ships. i’m not a gender based shipper personally, i like tropes n dynamics and whatever, and clearly a lot of people here feel the same. your disappointment in me doesn’t matter because this doesn’t matter!

there’s a LOT of other polls out there where f/f and m/m ships are represented, and m/f ships represented with them. there’s polls out there FOR f/f and m/m ships.

and lol i personally hate the debate of “m/f ships matter too!!1!” because it is always Very Deeply Stupid And Untrue. i don’t think m/f is better or matters more than f/f or m/m. i don’t think m/f ships need more representation/support/whatever. cause they don’t. i started this bracket simply because i like a lot of m/f ships and well. other people do too. i’m not taking any attention away from anything LOL… and it’s not my responsibility to represent everyone and everything. do your own bracket! it’s free!

so yeah. well. i didn’t bring that simple minded argument here. you did. you’re trying to paint me as something that is deeply untrue because you believe a ship poll indicates that i myself am not a queer person and don’t understand what homophobia means. i know what it means. i’ve lived it.

also it’s in the blog description but i did say m/f over het/straight because not everyone in m/f relos are cisgender or heterosexual. masculinity and femininity can be interpreted as you want. that’s been clear in this from the start.

i think you could really use some time to be nice to other people and not make blatantly stupid accusations about someone you don’t fucking know!!!! i hope your day gets better and you feed your misplaced anger at me, a silly little guy, into something productive. like making your own brackets. bye!

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

listen... listen. i'd love just as much as anybody to get to make a fool of myself in person with all my fellow fools, as opposed to making a collective fool of ourselves online. I just don't know if we have the brainpower to organize it. The first dashcon, as far as i know, was a logistical disaster. I know there's a spreadsheet side of tumblr, and... *shudder* a business side (I checked) but are they willing to help? are we willing to accept their help?

More issues to consider: With the cost of living and travel and the very decentralized tumblr userbase, on what continent would dashcon 2.0 be held? would there need to be online signups? payments? a website? who would create and oversee those things?

What if we tried to have a number of smaller cons for different regions? Only around 600 folks have answered 100% YES on your poll - How many users need to show up before we have folks from enough major communities to feel like a true tumblr party? How do we guarantee those numbers? What about major blogs? do we just hope they show up or pay them to sign autographs? is it a multi-day affair, like dashcon tried to be, or do we aim low?

There is so much that goes into an event like this- transit, trucking, storage, space, sign-ups, accounting, licensing, begging, scheduling, convincing, emailing, hiring, firing, decorating, ordering, packing... I haven't even gotten to the tip of the iceberg meme.

Do we hire planners and event companies, or are we too embarrassed to ask? How does everyone work around their day jobs and careers? Who is organizing dashcon 2.0, and what is their stake in it? How do we not repeat the mistakes of those who came before us?

Anyway, if you're gonna do it, I want to help. let's talk.

hmm alright I have thoughts

because I agree, I don’t know if we have the brainpower or money to organize it. my sincere hope with posting about a hypothetical dashcon has been that some super determined millionaire would be like “hey here- have this money and here’s a bunch of connections I have to people to help you organize this”…..so basically lots and lots of wishful thinking lmao.

while the business side of tumblr does seem terrifying, we might have to accept their help if they’re willing.

all of the logistics you mentioned are very very true things that I imagine the original dashcon creators didn’t fully take into account (or i’d assume as much based on the chaos that ensued lol)

as for location, yeahhh that’s the definite hard part. in my head, I keep seeing this as like a vidcon (which is terrible because it wouldn’t be as big but idk) which is held in California. but idk how feasible that is for the average Tumblr base. and that does definitely cut down the amount of people that would be able or willing to come so idk.

and I also imagine having like panels and possibly meet and greets or something with major blog owners, but idk if we’d just beg them to come or find a way to pay them.

As for the whole last paragraph- aaaaah I have absolutely no idea.

i’m definitely not going to spearhead organizing such an event (mostly because I don’t want my real name associated with it in case it goes to shit again lmaoo) but if someone else had more resources to do so, I would absolutely be willing to help.

and if anyone sees this and has conference-planning experience and wants to help make a bunch of wishful Tumblr users dreams come true…. please let me know and i’d love to help!

[d4isywhims]

hello friends! 🤍✨

lots of words. click at your own risk!!

i’m back from my trip/short hiatus!! i didn’t go on tumblr that much during my trip because i was having too much fun hehe so i was basically MIA 😵‍💫 andddddd i JUST realised that my cas challenge posts didn’t go up because my dumbdumb ass saved it as draft instead of queue 😭😭😭😭😭😭 omg i’m so sorry to everyone who looked forward to seeing those posts ;_; they’ll be up all throughout next week tho!! ✨ alsoooo i wanna talk about a few things 👀

1. youtube

as some of you might know, i started a youtube channel and am about to post my first ever vid!! so excited!! 🤩 i’m also thinking of moving one of my tumblr gameplays to youtube but i’m kinda stumped on which one :/ i’m already on gen 2 of my family dynamics challenge and i feel like it would be kind of awkward to start filming from there lol so this leaves me with my globetrotter household and tjol legacy household. or maybe start a brand new lp!! i would greatly appreciate your opinion on this matter if you have any :D

2. 1000 followers!!!!!

guys. guys guys guys. GUYSss. had to block a HANDFUL of 🌽bots but YOU GUYSSSSSS

i am truly speechless 😭 i made a promise to myself that if i reached 1k followers on tumblr i would start a youtube channel and here we are!! i love you guys so much and thanks for sticking around 😭♥️ absolutely no words can describe how much i appreciate everyone on here :’) i’ve made SO many talented friends on tumblr and i hope to make even more! i have no idea what my follower gift would be this time (i haven’t even started with my 900 followers gift 😵‍💫) so please if you have ANY suggestions, feel free to comment below or send me a message! :DD probably gonna come up with a poll sooner or later hehe

aaahhh it feels so good to be back on simblr!! i’ll spend the rest of my night responding to tagged games, asks/messages i’ve gotten while on my hiatus and just catching up with the community :)) i’ll go back to posting gameplay pics on monday! :D starting off strong with family dynamics!!

thanks sm friends!! ✨ have a great day/night ahead!

- gem 🤍

[oldmemoria]

posting these design ideas on main because why not

working with how I want to possibly redesign cat!miguel (Reclusestar in the warriors AU), here’s a few quick headshot ideas for em :)

dunno which one I should go with, but I’ve got some notes on each

Original:

Dark blue-grey tortoiseshell with reddish brown markings meant to replicate his most recent suit design. Small, slightly curved up ears with tufts around them that I want to stay in the design regardless of the fur color. A 4 pronged star on his forehead that will also stay true to every other design (supposed to be his leader mark. Usually I like the idea of leader marks either being like.. spots or stripes or something else but a physically inflicted marking not only fits his role better but is also just more visceral and reflects the implied and not so implied cruelty of StarClan in the warrior cats series. For those who don’t know StarClan is like… a holy amalgemation of all of the cats ancestors that went from this mysterious and whymsical force in the first series to unreliable and actually manipulate due to how biased they are.)

— why is he blue

— not accurate to comic design

— more accurate to his movie design, however, I believe the blue in his suit is meant to be light bouncing off of a black suit. So still isn’t exactly accurate

+ simple, easy to replicate markings and probably easy to animate (haven’t tested it but seeing as he barely has any floating stripes or markings other than his star marking it’d be easy to do frame by frame)

+ bluestar

original but the blue is changed to black.

Classic black and orange tortoiseshell. Same other features mentioned before.

— boring. Yawn.

+ the mask markings are more prominent

+ the most accurate to the comics. Miguel has a black and red suit.

same as the last 2 but with a darker blue-black tint

— still blue :/

— his eyes blend into his face and it bothers me

+ colors are actually really nice

+ average cat Miguel design honestly this is how everyone draws him

tortie-tabby dual colored cap mask. Instead of the usual ginger ear tufts he has white, and he has a lot more white in his design than usual

— I don’t like how much white I used for this design, I don’t think it works.

— replicating the fangs in the mask was kinda difficult I didn’t know if I wanted to make it a stripe or apart of the base mask so uh

+ is a tortie-tabby

+ accentuates his jawline!! The other designs did before as well, his markings are just placed a little differently here

+ the white hair is cute

Half and half tortie with minimal white markings (I’m leaning towards using this one)

+ I really like half and half tortie designs

+ cool symmetry

+ he looks like a lil guy here.. just lil.

— jawline isn’t ver visible, especially on the dark brown side :(

Half and half with medium white markings

+ same perks as above

+ accentuates jawline better than the others

(If you’d like please rb for a better sample size for the poll below :3)

Here’s an optional poll, just to see which ones people like more (doesn’t mean I’m gonna choose that one)

[pettydollie]

I Was Made For Lovin’ You, Baby (chapters 3 and 4) ♡.｡.:*

a/n: heyy! just an fyi, this fic is not exactly following the timeline. and also, in case you didn’t see my poll, i’m going to be posting two chapters in one post as often as possible. i’m going start a weekly posting schedule for this fic if that makes sense lol. so the next time i will (try to) post will be next thursday! enjoy! xx

word count: 3.1k

C H A P T E R  T H R E E

“You want toast, Holly?” Nancy asked the tiny girl at the table. “No? Okay..” She smiled softly. It was the next morning. Everleigh still hadn’t heard from Melanie so she figured she wanted to be alone. She had already finished breakfast, now waiting for Tina to pick her up. Nancy was going in Steve’s car, since he invited her and why not go with Tina and Vicki? Hopefully Melanie will be there too, but she forgot to ask T. Everleigh had called her this morning, but no one answered. Mike left early on his bike to meet with his friends and Mr. Clarke. Then, there was a honk outside. 

“Bye mom! Bye Holly. Bye Nance.” The girl waved, smiling. She walked out the door, her bag slung over one shoulder. Tina was outside with Vicki in the passenger seat and Melanie was sat in the back along with Carol. Now Everleigh didn’t have too much against Carol, but they just didn’t get along so well. It was weird being around her and they didn’t have similar interests. Everleigh looked over at Tina signaling to Carol who was chewing gum obnoxiously and picking at her nails. Tina mouthed “Sorry, V wanted her to come”. Everleigh nodded and opened the car door, while Melanie moved into the middle seat, smiling at her. Everleigh got in and took her backpack off.

“Morningg!” She smiled. “Hey, Ev!” Everyone cheered- Carol was a little less happy. Everleigh turned to look at Melanie while Tina began driving. She didn’t know if Mel told the other girls about being stood up (again) so she mouthed “Hey, you okay?” Melanie nodded. “They know, it’s alright Ev. But I’m okay. I think I’m going to break up with him today.” She announced sadly. Everleigh nodded along with the other girls. “I mean, what has he really done for you anyways?” Tina asked rhetorically. Vicki nodded, pointing her manicured finger at Tina. “True. He hasn’t even taken you out on a proper date. I mean, you are DATING. Not just friends with an extra smooch on the side.” Vicki rolled her eyes.

The girls continued chatting and cheering Melanie up until they arrived in the school parking lot. They all got out, grabbing their bags. “We still have a while until class starts.” Tina informed everyone, looking at the black and gold watch on her wrist. “We can just chill here for a bit.” The girls leaned against Tina’s car, gossiping. “I’m excited for your annual Halloween bash coming up, T. You always have the best parties.” Everleigh gushed. It was true. Tina always had the best parties with the most drama. Tina smiled back. “Me too! I think I’m gonna be Madonna this year.”

The girls began talking about what they wanted to be for Halloween while waiting to go inside. “V, you got gum? I finished mine yesterday.” Everleigh asked, pouting. Vicki was the type of girl who always had everything in her bag. Whether it be tissues, gum, lipgloss, and basically anything that wasn’t school related. She nodded, pulling a pack out of her bag. She handed one to each of the girls (besides Carol who was smacking hers away like a cow chewing grass), everyone saying “Thank you.” 

While the girls were discussing cheer tryouts which was the following day, they perked up, hearing loud music blaring. A blue camaro pulled into the parking lot across from Tina’s spot. Which was… Everleigh’s normal spot. She scoffed, not being able to complain because she didn’t bring her car that day. A tall boy with a dirty blonde mullet and drop dead gorgeous blue eyes opened the front door of the car, stepping out. He was beautiful to say the least. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Now normally, as a fashion addict, Everleigh hated denim over denim and had never seen anyone look good in it. But this kid rocked it.

He looked around the parking lot with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. A small redhead girl, Everleigh noticed, got out of the backseat with a skateboard in hand and skated away. The boy shut the door and strutted confidently towards the school. The girls’ gaze were watching him like predators feasting on prey. He was attractive, Everleigh could admit. He looked full of himself too. Her clean brows raised in amusement and chuckled dryly. “Who is that?” Vicki asked, in a trance. “I have no idea..” Tina replied, twirling her curly dark hair. “But would you check out that ass?” She glanced at Everleigh who just rolled her eyes smiling playfully. “Look at it go!” Tina chuckled.

Melanie was the only one not staring. She couldn’t. She never did anyways when her friends pointed out attractive guys out of respect for Carl. This new kid didn’t look like her type anyways. Everleigh noticed this and placed a hand on her shoulder in understanding. 

The bell rang and everyone was sat in first period. Everleigh was once again alone without her friend to talk to. She sighed as Mr. Mundy began taking attendance. “William Hargrove?” He called. So that was the new kid’s name. Just then, the door opened to reveal the star of the show. The girls in the room sat up straighter, including Tina who glanced over at Everleigh wiggling her eyebrows. She mouthed an “as if” and scoffed in response, smiling. “Here.” He spoke. “You’re late on your first day, Hargrove. Not a good look.” Mr. Mundy replied, his brows raised and making a “tch” noise with his mouth. 

“Well, sir. I didn’t know where to go, since it’s my first day.” William said, his hands in his pockets. “Alright, fine, William. You may sit..” Mr. Mundy looked over the class, everyone hoping he would tell him to sit with them. “It’s Billy.” The boy responded, clearing his throat. “Okay.. Billy. You can sit over there next to Everleigh Wheeler. Raise your hand, Everleigh.” 

Well. This is great. Everleigh raised her hand. Billy walked over and dropped into the desk, throwing his backpack on the floor, sending her a wink with a smirk. She’d never admit it, but she felt butterflies in her stomach swirling around. She turned around to the window resting chin on her hand, waiting for class to officially start.

Once Mr. Mundy explained what he was going to teach, Everleigh leaned over to her pink backpack and pulled out a spiral notebook with a large pencil case. She grabbed a black pen with a few highlighters and began taking notes. She was writing something from the board when she felt a light tap on her arm. “Do you have a pencil?” Billy whispered. “It’s your first day and you didn’t bring a pencil?” Everleigh asked. Billy shrugged. She sighed and grabbed a pink pencil. She offered it to him in which he declined, chuckling softly. “A normal pencil, if you have one.”

She turned back and grabbed a freshly sharpened No. 2 pencil and gave it to him which he took this time. “Thanks, doll.” He smiled. Huh. That’s odd. Why did her face feel hot all of a sudden? Was it hot in here or what? She nodded, turning away again. She continued her notes until she felt another tap on her shoulder again. She turned to face a waiting Billy. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Everleigh.” She replied simply. Mr. Mundy just said her name a few minutes ago, but hey, who is she to judge? She forgets things all the time. He nodded, looking back to the board, deciding to leave her alone for now. She turned away as well, but thinking. She looked over at him again. “Can I see your schedule?” She asked, holding her hand out.

“Why, you wanna stalk me or somethin’?” He joked, smirking. She put her hand back where it was before. “Don’t be so full of yourself, Hargrove.” She smiled, turning away to listen to Mr. Mundy. He chuckled softly. 

By the time she knew it, class was over and it was lunch time. Everleigh packed up her stuff and walked out with Tina, Billy following behind. And into the large cafeteria they went.

Like first period, but much worse, the cafeteria was horribly loud. Everleigh sat at the ‘popular’ table, so things were always interesting there. Tina and Everleigh walked to their normal seats and said hello to everyone. “Did you see the new boy? He’s hot!” A girl named Avery giggled. No one really liked Avery, she just sat with the cool kids because she was dating one of the boys on the soccer team and then made a big scene breaking up with him at one of Tina’s parties.

Everleigh looked around the table for Melanie, but she wasn’t there. She looked towards the entrance of the cafeteria and right when she was going to turn around, Billy walked in. He moved with such confidence, like Hawkins could never be good enough for him. Avery squealed which made the boys at the table groan. The girls on the other hand like Tina and Vicki watched closely. Carol looked too, but she couldn’t look too hard because she was still dating Tommy H who sat next to her.

Everleigh began to worry when there was no sign of Melanie. “I’m gonna go find Mel.” She announced, grabbing her stuff and leaving the table. Everyone nodded. She left the cafeteria and looked for Melanie. She checked the bathrooms first. No one. Which meant she was probably outside. Melanie never smoked a lot but she always did when she was upset. In the same spot as always. Everleigh walked outside behind the bleachers and just as she thought, Melanie was crying while smoking a cigarette. 

“Oh, Mel..” Everleigh walked over to the girl pulling her into a hug and allowing her to cry into her shoulder. Ignoring the smell of smoke which she hates, Everleigh comforted her friend wordlessly. “I-I want to break up with him n-now but I just don’t know how..” Melanie choked out. “It’s okay, I’ll be there with you.” Melanie nodded. Melanie never let Everleigh go. And she was fine with that. “I think I want to do it now. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings.” Melanie pulled away, wiping her tears. Her mascara was ruined and her nose was red. 

“Okay, we can do that. Let’s just fix you up first, mkay?” Everleigh consoled, rubbing her arm up and down. Melanie nodded again. Everleigh wrapped her arm around the girl to her shoulder, still rubbing as they walked to the bathrooms. They walked in and Everleigh pulled out a pink and white makeup pouch. She grabbed makeup wipes and wiped her face. She reapplied Melanie’s mascara and her blush. The makeup brushes felt comforting to Melanie which helped her tears stop forming. “Done. You wanna wait a bit or go now?” Everleigh questioned. Melanie straightened her shoulders “Now.”

Everleigh nodded, before she could say anything, Melanie grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the cafeteria. Everleigh stumbled, clutching her backpack in her hand. Melanie stomped to the table where Carl was seated, which Billy was at as well. Melanie let go of Everleigh’s hand, now shy all of a sudden. “We’re breaking up, Carl.” She told him quietly. Carl’s face scrunched up. “Excuse me?” He stood up, angry. His fists clenched into balls. Everleigh felt a rush over her. She stepped in front of her friend.

“You heard her. You treat her like she’s not worth your time. One second you’re telling her how much you love her and the next, you’re standing her up. Where were you last night, huh?” Everleigh folded her arms, scolding Carl like a small child. He deflated, not knowing how to respond. Everyone was looking now. Even Billy. His brows raised in amusement. Everleigh slung her bag over her shoulder. Tina stood up as well. “She’s too good for you. Melanie has always been too good but you’re just to blind to see it.” She spat. Carl stood, frozen. He slowly sat back down, speechless. 

“I’m sorry.” Melanie apologized. Tina and Everleigh smacked their foreheads mentally. Why was she apologizing? Melanie never did anything wrong. It was all in her head. “You can leave now.” Everleigh sarcastically smiled, pointing behind her with her thumb. Carl cursed under his breath, but walked away with his stuff nonetheless. Melanie sat down, huffing out a breath of air she didn’t know she was holding in. Then the usual topics were discussed once again. Like nothing happened.

“I think I’m going to hand out my party flyers tomorrow.” Tina announced. “A party, you say?” Billy spoke out of nowhere. All heads turned to him. “Yeah. I host Halloween and Christmas parties every year. They’re pretty packed.” She explained, happily speaking to him. “So like, will there be booze?” He asked, smirking that stupid smirk. “Duh,” Tina laughed along with some other people there. “Hm.” He hummed. 

Then Everleigh brought up cheer tryouts tomorrow. This was always the worst part of the year (besides tests). Cheer tryouts are always full and Everleigh always feels bad saying no to people. “I think I’m going to try out.” Vicki told Everleigh. “You should, V! You’d be a great cheerleader.” Everleigh complimented in which Vicki smiled. “Yo, Billy.” Tommy pat his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “Speaking of tryouts, basketball tryouts are after school tomorrow. You going?” He asked. “Yeah,” Billy dryly responded.  The girls at the table all shared a look. Billy on the basketball team? They were head over heels already.

Billy was gossiping about everyone in his head. Every girl seated with him was stuck up and rich. Considering Everleigh’s popularity, which he could tell she definitely had from all the stares from the boys in first period, he would eventually want to mess around with her. These boys weren’t special.. Or really good enough to be his friends, in his opinion. But this was the best he could get for now. 

“Oh my God. Justin wants to ask out Wendy.” Vicki said changed the subject. “Justin told his best friend Paul who told Randy who told his girlfriend Marge who told Riley who told me.” The girls gasped. “Wait, but I thought Wendy just got dumped?” Everleigh questioned, confused. The girls spoke about drama as they normally did and the boys discussed basketball tryouts.

C H A P T E R  F O U R

Now it was sixth period. P.E could either be really fun or terribly hard. For example, dodgeball. Everleigh always thought she looked like a chicken whenever she ran without pom poms in her hands. And she had a horrible aim. But on the other hand, volleyball was the best. She loved teaming up with her friends and beating the other side. Today was basketball, which makes sense because tryouts were tomorrow and Coach probably wanted to see what he would be working with. 

Everleigh walked into the girls locker room with Vicki and Tina. “E, I don’t think anyone hates the uniforms as much as you.” Vicki joked. Everleigh giggled in response. “They’re so ugly. It looks like something a 40-year old man would wear.” She made an ick expression. While the three of them were changing and chatting, Carol came into the room (late, of course) and grabbed onto Vicki’s arm. “Girl, mister hot stuff is in this class.” She boasted. ‘Hot stuff’ was probably referring to the new kid, Billy.

“You’re awfully excited for someone who’s been taken since the seventh grade.” Everleigh teased. But Carol ignored her comment and continued talking to Vicki. “He’s already out there playing against Harrington. He looks really good.” She smacked her gum as she spoke. Tina wiggled her eyebrows. Everleigh and Tina were more practical when it came to relationships, but they loved to talk about boys without full seriousness. 

Once everyone was all finished changing, Everleigh walked with Tina to the bleachers until further instruction. “Ooh, Carol wasn’t wrong. He does look fabulous.” Tina gushed, passing her lipgloss to you. Everleigh nodded, reapplying her lipgloss, not knowing how to respond. He looked alright. “Did you see Mel after the breakup? I haven’t seen her since lunch.” Tina turned to ask. Everleigh shook her head. “I think she called her mom to pick her up. Ugh, Carl is such an idiot. He never deserved her in the first place. I told her that too, but she didn’t want to listen.” She explained. 

“Yeah, I don’t really know what she saw in him. He’s such a momma’s boy also. He would probably marry her if he could.” Tina cringed, making the two of you laugh. Everleigh looked as Billy played against Steve. Speaking of Steve, she definitely wanted to know more about him and Nancy. “Is that a six pack?” Tina pointed out. “It’s getting hot in here.” She fanned herself with her hand. Everleigh grinned cheekily and fanned her with both hands. She giggled and raised her hand. “Coach!”

Coach J turned around from the boys and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Tina?” He asked. “When can we play?” She questioned. “No!” She chuckled, hitting her arm. “T, I’m terrible at basketball.” She whined, pouting. Tina laughed evilly. “Whenever these guys finish.” Coach J replied in a loud tone. “Great, we don’t have to do anything till next week.” Everleigh joked. 

Billy pushed Steve onto the gym floor, creating a loud thud. There was a collection of “ooh”’s in the room. “Uh, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s considered a foul right?” Everleigh questioned. Tina nodded, speechless. But no one called anything. Steve just got back up to follow Billy and his team. “Guess not.” Tina shrugged. “Wanna skip? This is sooo boring.” She suggested. “Alright!” Everleigh grabbed her fluffy backpack and followed Tina down the bleachers. “Coach! Can we go to the bathroom?” Everleigh asked. “Uh, sure, but why are you bringing your stuff?” Coach J asked.

“Lady products.” Tina quipped. The coach asked no further questions and waved the girls off. The two walked through the halls chatting. “Oh, by the way,” Tina started. “You remember Susan the Slut?” She asked. “Ugh, yeah. She was the worst.” Everleigh rolled her eyes. Susan would date almost any boy she saw, tell them she was madly in love, bring them to her bed, and then accuse them of cheating. And as for the girls, she always had enemies and talked crap for no reason. “She’s moving back to Hawkins next week, I think.”

a/n: just a heads up, susan is going to be the absolute worst. i didnt edit this btw oopsies. love ya! :)

[sterekshaven]

I don't get it... like, fucked up as in fucked up(tm) or as in problematic? because ohhhh boy.

What's the point lol. The other day I saw other poll blog with a ''proshipers don't interact'' among other rude things on the bio. .... mind you, the polls were ship polls. Like?

i am genuinely so fucking tired of the antis and the purity culture and people who can't differentiate fiction from reality. i don't think this one is actually very anti or purity oriented at all (considering what it's about), but fandom in general has been so gd affected by it all that even fucking Sterek is considered a "problematic" ship by far too many people.

that same blog had another most fucked up ship tournament in February too, and they had Sterek in it back then too, and i'm just gonna add some of my own tags from my reblog of that here:

#there isn't even any propaganda as to why they're so fucked up #like they're competing against ships like Wincest and Hannigram #so we have these codependent Actual Brothers who are obsessed with each other #and we have this Serial Killer who gaslights and manipulates his bf and tries to frame him for murder and stabs him and plans to eat him #and then we have Sterek! where uh well Derek is a lil older than Stiles and Derek's family died so he's a bit sad i guess? #oh and yeah they don't always agree on everything either! #jeez so fucked up!

just. HOW. the fuck. does Sterek even come close to comparing to that? (and i say this as both a Wincest and a Hannigram shipper, i'm not dissing them at all, i'm just fucking flabbergasted x'D)

ANYWAY. i checked the blog for any sort of info about it, and all i could find (okay i maybe didn't look very hard) was an ask they got about it, copy pasting that one too:

ask:

Hi, are we voting for which fucked up pairing is worse? Or which fucked up pairing we like more? Or is everyone voting for whatever reason they like?

answer:

I do intend for the first reason, but I’m alright with the third one too haha

so yeah, idk. i mean, sure, i'd say both Stiles and Derek are pretty fucked up (though not much compared to other characters *looking at Wincest and Hannigram again*), what with their trauma etc, but the ship itself? no. just no.

but i have also been called a pedophile for shipping them (lets not get into how angry it makes me that people misuse that word so fucking badly), so it's gotta be "Problematic" right? *bangs head against wall*

okay, i've ranted enough, so to answer your question: fuck if i know *shrugs* x'D

[whos-hotter-jjba]

I’ll be honest: I’m not participating because of the way people are acting in the tags, including you. Calling characters ugly and the ‘I hate x all my homies hate x’ is annoying and unnecessary. characters like J Geil and Angelo obviously deserve it because of their actions, but no one seems to be able to just say something positive about who they’re voting for instead of WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE THAAAATTTTT 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 about a character with multiple chins.

Okay so I spent a while thinking if I was going to answer this or not but it's gonna annoy the shit out of me if I don't. I won't answer any more asks like these though.

First off, if it bothers you so much, why are you still here?

I firmly believe you're responsible for your own internet experience. You don't need a ""good reason"" to block someone other than not liking their vibe or being annoyed. Just- don't engage. Block this blog. Go make your own if you like the idea but not how I'm running it. Be free.

Second, I'm not going to stop giving my opinion. I was really happy someone else liked my ramblings but I'm doing it because it's fun for me, I'm running this blog because I would like to engage with it if I wasn't the one running it, you know? Also because my partners and friends who know me irl can read my comments and talk to me about that. I won't stop talking about what characters I like or don't like, or it kinda defeats the purpose of running this blog the way I want to.

Third, I can't possibly moderate the way people give their opinions about characters who are hot on the "give opinions about which characters are hot" blog. You're always going to have people who disagree with your opinions, and sometimes they're going to be mean, because this is the internet, but ffs I'm assuming you're at least mature enough to ignore and go about your day, or block and move on. Also, I don't know which posts you're reading because everyone reblogs my polls simping for someone, almost nobody just reblogs to talk shit about someone.

And lastly, the notion you seem to have that some characters "deserve" to be called ugly because they're terrible people??? Look, that's damaging as fuck imo. If you're annoyed we (me and the people who follow this blog) aren't treating characters with respect for their looks not being conventional, then you can't possibly defend that terrible people don't deserve that respect if they also have unconventionally attractive looks. That's hypocritical as fuck, you can't want "respect" only for people you think deserve that respect.

Anyway. I already wrote way too much, but this is a conversation that's over because I will delete any further answers. Move on, anon, stop annoying yourself with something I'm not going to change and stop annoying me by coming into my asks like this. It's not doing either of us any good.

[kanerallels]

Re: homeschooling. There is ALOT of stigma, but I’ve heard the stigma is much higher in the USA than elsewhere, and this is an American site so all polls results are skewed to an American world view. So there’s that, what fears exist there that influence the vote? I’ll try to summarize. I’d be interested in a poll from everyone else. Also the points I’m gonna cover are just what I’ve heard over the years, and over the border as a Canadian myself, who only homeschooled for a few of my years, so it’s not iron clad or anything. Just some possibilities.

The stigmas come from the idea that it’s bad because there are, unfortunately, a lot of people who don’t do it right, or for the right reasons. The main objections are these kids are completely isolated socially, underprepared to function in the real world, and that they won’t get a proper education - either from ignorance or malice, or both. There may also be unconscious bias that the state (not the American sense of the word, but the institutional sense) knows best and how can parents know what to teach? Which probably feeds back into factors I don’t really have the qualifications to talk about but basically boil down to “if you educated them better they won’t be mindless minions for the capitalist/military/prison grind” - the state does not want that, so they purport the idea that it’s bad (yes that borders on conspiracy theory, not saying it’s true, saying I’ve heard this said). Never mind public education is a fairly new concept, historically speaking (and it is a good thing in many ways! Mandatory, free, basic education has eliminated illiteracy in many places for example. The concept started out with worthy goals, etc - have they strayed from them and why? Lack of care or just resources?)

Obviously, all of that is going to vary by who is doing it and why and if they have the time and resources and desire to do it properly.

Socially, you can absolutely create community elsewhere - when my mom was doing it with us, we went to the library every single week and met up with a bunch of other kids and planned social stuff and educational group trips to places like the science centre and the art and history museums. We mixed our book learning with practical skills - one person knew a sewing teacher, one person negotiated a discount for swim lessons, the library offered French lessons among its many other programs. And of course to supplement grade standard education lesson books, like math, spelling, etc, we were ALWAYS taking out books from the library, both fiction and non fiction. So there are absolutely ways to get a rounded education and a social life. I would say even more so now than when the concept was new for me 15-20 years ago.

But on the other hand, there are the horror stories, and success stories don’t circulate half so well. The people who isolate their kids to abuse them, don’t teach them anything, make them do chores all day beyond age appropriate responsibility or physical ability, etc. also the deliberate obfuscation of certain information or topics because of personal ideology, usually religious, because you know. Somehow education equates belief (sarcasm. Example: I learned people used to think the world was flat. Guess what? I don’t believe that).

These are just some random thoughts, feel free say it doesn’t make sense lol. I do believe if that’s what you want to do, and you have the love and time and ability and patience etc, and financial freedom for at least one parent to do it (someone’s gotta work unfortunately), then go for it. But do it right, and find as many resources as you can. Unfortunately there are people who go into it without preparation and for the wrong reasons and I can see why people believe kids need access to third parties somewhere in their lives, and school might as well be it. Like there’s very much merit and drawbacks on both sides. I think there’s kids who could come out from both systems with abysmal skills, and from both with stellar skills, (I’ve met both types), it’s just really gonna boil down to individual circumstances.

This is all really really interesting, thank you for the ask!! I knew some of this stuff but not all of it. And I don't think I knew you were homeschooled at one point, that's so cool!! (Oh and you're never gonna hear judgement about conspiracy theory sounding stuff from me lol)

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group I Round 3: #I8 vs #I2

#I8: “I’m sick of being a tragic girl, so we’re gonna punch god in the face!”

#I2: Three girls start a fun club and get into shit

Details and poll under the cut!

#I8: Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero (Yuuki Yuuna wa Yuusha de Aru)

Summary:

In her everyday life, Yuuna Yuuki is a hero. As proof, she is in her middle school's Hero Club, where she does her best to help others and bring a smile to everyone's face.

But Yuuna, always up to any task, is about to become an even bigger hero. Mysterious destructive forces called Vertexes begin threatening the world she loves, and the Hero Club is called upon by a strange phone app to save it. Along with her best friend Mimori Tougou, as well as sisters Fuu and Itsuki Inubouzaki, they must transform into magical girls in order to battle the Vertexes.

In between studying and putting on shows for kids, Yuuna and the Hero Club must fight for the very existence of their world and face the harsh truths behind their own powers, all the while discovering what it truly means to be a hero.

Propaganda:

I adored this show from the moment I watched it because throughout it all, it’s hopeful. These girls go through a lot. A LOT. A lot of horrible, horrible things, and yet they bounce back. These girls bounce back pretty much every single time and do anything to help their friends do the same. To me, that is insanely inspiring.

The cast of characters here are also insanely compelling. They feel like actual, real friends—doing things together, hanging out, comforting each other and laughing with them all the same. This point I feel helps that sense of hope this show has absolutely.

The character designs in general too are absolutely breathtaking, and are nothing like I’ve ever seen from any other magical girl anime. Also, one last thing: this show’s soundtrack is done by MONACA. MONACA is also known for doing the first two NieR games. Take that what you will :)

Trigger Warnings: Flashing Lights, Self-Harm, Suicide

#I2: Asobi Asobase - workshop of fun -

Summary:

During recess, Olivia, a foreign transfer student who doesn’t know English, plays a game of “look-the-other-way” with Hanako Honda, a loudmouthed airhead. Their rowdy behavior spurs the ire of Kasumi Nomura, a deadpan loner constantly teased by her older sister for her tendency to lose games.

Not willing to compete, Kasumi declines Olivia’s offer to join the fun, but eventually gets involved anyway and dispenses her own brand of mischief. Soon, a strange friendship blossoms between the peculiar trio, and they decide to form the “Pastime Club,” where they are free to resume their daily hijinks.

Propaganda:

It’s really funny and hilarious and kind of hard to pin down the demographic and who they were trying to get to watch the show because the girls uniforms are ugly, they make ugly faces and funny noises, and one of the main characters has a strong fear/disgust of men. I live and then I had a really fun time watching it because it’s so out of pocket with the stuff they do.

Trigger Warnings: Gender Identity/Sexuality Discrimination.

One character is implied to be a trans girl and is called out for it by the main characters in a way that suggests they are uncomfortable with it. Her boyfriend is okay with it, though.

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.