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#but this time on a saturday because oops
windybit · 1 year
Audio
Sorry for missing another Monday! School’s crazy, and I quit my job because I simply Do Not Have Time for anything.
Got a FNAF one this time! Never Be Alone got stuck in my head when I first heard it, and although this might not be one of my best works, I still had fun with it and enjoy listening to it. I should probably look at giving some of the early The Living Tombstone stuff a try too because they’re all bops...
Here’s Never Be Alone by Shadrow, I think for FNAF 4? I don’t remember off the top of my head, but that sounds right. I can’t remember when I arranged this one either, so let’s just say within the last two years. Enjoy!
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slippery-minghus · 11 months
Text
was thinking more about my feelings/thoughts about my mom's incompetence on the way to work. (and first of all, i'm pleasantly surprised at how fast it took me to sort all these feelings into clarity. two weeks vs the several months it took a few years ago is a huge improvement)
but i put clarity to the realization that it's like she's talking out of both sides of her mouth when it comes to *my* competence. from the corner of one, she's saying how proud she is of me for holding my own as an adult, for "being so domestic" - in that i'm keeping my home clean, my laundry done, myself fed (by cooking, no less!). she says she's proud.
but out of the rest of the other side of her mouth she's telling me that the way i do things is wrong. that because i don't do things the way she does, i couldn't possibly be competent. she just about followed me around turning off lights i had left on - in rooms i was going back to or wanted the ambient light from. there was no trust that i would turn off the light when i was done (and she complains so much about how she "has to" do this for her husband... and now i'm wondering if she even gives him the chance)
any time i gave her instructions on how to do something for me that *she asked to help with* she would make snide comments or give looks about how picky i was about how to do it. she cooked for me (didn't use salt) and froze the leftovers, but didn't fill the containers all the way. she used awkward sized ones that hold too much for one meal but not enough for two. i didn't leave her with instructions on how to package the food, because why would i have had to micromanage that? it would be intuitive, right? (as would be... say, putting leftover cooked rice in a sealed container, so it doesn't dry out and get gross? ....intuitive, right....?) (and nevermind the container she cooked it in oh god my poor dishes)
i was too exhausted when i got back from my trip and couldn't parse the feelings so i held my tongue, and settled on voicing my visible frustration as "we do things differently in the kitchen" leaving unsaid the part that the reason why i do things so differently is to compensate for her, to distance myself from the inefficiency and lack of attention to detail.
i'm realizing why it's always felt so hollow when she praises me - because it's always been so thoroughly backed by the subtlety of her telling me she's not proud, that i'm incompetent.
but all of her bullshit about calling the people around her incompetent is just so obviously a projection against how she feels about herself?? she's always making comments like "see, mom does know a thing or two" whenever she has some minor tidbit of information or method to impart. they're always small, insignificant things (and often shit i just nod along to bc again. i do things differently.)
and me trying to correct her or show her how to do something the way i prefer when she is doing something for me that she specifically volunteered to do, because she wanted to be helpful, is always met with such disdain. like me gently asking "can you do it this way" is slapping her in the face and calling her an incompetent loser. like i'm so overwhelmingly and maliciously picky and rude for having a particular way of doing things.
as if she doesn't. as if she isn't also neurodivergent as hell and full of specific ways of doing things and Rules about how they're supposed to be done. only she acts like her way of doing things, because she's so insecure, has to be the Word of God - or else, i guess, she's been doing everything ever wrong her whole life and her existence cannot be justified. (she built her whole identity around being a Mother, and if she can't be useful and Mother me, then she has no justification to exist).
so when i politely offer her tasks when she asks to do things to help me (which if i don't let her help she will take it personally and like i'm again slapping her in the face for incompetence), i have to submit to her doing them her way, which for me might as well not be done at all. (and nevermind the things that Her Way just isn't a localized or good fit for. like hanging laundry- she lives somewhere warm and dry. it's cool and humid here. hanging things Her Way at home will dry just fine, but to do the same with my laundry at my house will take so long things get mildewy) (so me asking Do It This Way is often just me knowing what works in the present circumstances. and these are often things i've already figured out through trial and error. My Way is not baselessly existing to Contradict Her Way. it's what works for me in my environment.)
i know i could be less rigid. and i know i am this rigid because of my neurodivergence and my trauma of compensating for my mother my whole life (coughcough walking myself to school even though it Wasn't Allowed bc otherwise i would be late to class). i know i'm not perfect and tbh with anyone else i would be more forgiving. i wouldn't even need to be forgiving. just grateful. i can appreciate effort from someone whose interaction isn't so steeped in trauma and reprimanding-me-for-existing. if my friend cooked for me and jarred leftovers like my mom did, that it wasn't-how-i-would-do-it wouldn't entirely override the kindness of the gesture.
(and i feel like i must be in the wrong if i can offer that grace about other people. like i'm taking up more space than is due. but i can't go back to denying how loaded every interaction with my mother is. i can't go back to being so dissociated i feel nothing and just roll over like a doormat when she wants to make a situation where she's offering me help into one where she's belittling me.) (stars. no wonder i never ask for help.)
and like. if anyone should get that there's a specific way to do things or else my brain hurts, it's my mom. if anyone should understand me on that level, on that level of depth, it's her. (oh no. time for tears. my shrink would be proud of me for considering this piece but this is the part that HURTS) but no she has to take that opportunity for connection and shit on it bc she can't release control enough to take one of the two hands she's gripping onto Her-Way-Of-Doing-Things and reach out to me. she has to have Her Way in a chokehold otherwise she feels like she'll disappear. so when i'm reaching out, taking one hand off of My Way to try to connect with her, she takes it as me trying to rip Her Way out of her hands and make her disappear.
so of course she keeps both hands tightly on Her Way and then turns to bludgeon me with it.
i'm asking her to stop existing, so why wouldn't she?
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elshells · 1 year
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Happy STS! Share your favorite piece of meta-lore for your WIPs/books/stories! (by meta-lore I mean, inspirations, how you arrived at your vision, what drove you to form it into what it is today, etc, things like that!)
This is such a cool question, thanks for asking! These are the kinds of things I like to think about ALL the time, and I'm always happy to talk about it!
It's kind of a long funny story. Cue the long-winded flashback!
The idea of Agent Ace actually started out life as a Supernatural fanfiction on Wattpad, though today it's pretty much unrecognizable from what it used to be (I don't even think there are any existing characters atm who are inspired by/reflections of SPN characters anymore). This was about four or five years ago, and although I eventually stopped writing fanfic and abandoned the work as a whole, I was still really drawn to the idea of an urban murder mystery with a twist.
It wasn't until about two years ago that I repurposed that plot for an event on Wattpad called the Open Novella Contest. Basically, if you've never heard of it, annually from February to June, writers are challenged to write a 20,000-40,000 novella and enter it in a series of rounds to be judged by Wattpad staff. I didn't get very far in the contest (I think I only made it three or four chapters in before I hit a wall and missed the monthly deadline), but ever since then this story has haunted me during all hours of the day for the last two years, refusing to pay rent until I complete it. Today, it's basically my heart and soul.
Someone I know once described Agent Ace as a 'spy thriller that dives into the dark side,' and I love that description so much. Though the story has evolved so much since I first began writing it. It's hard to believe, for example, that Sophia, one of the two POVs I follow that fills the conventional 'detective' role, was the original murder victim until I decided to develop her further. It's honestly for the best it's taken me so long to write it; it needs a LOTTTT of time in the oven before it's fully baked, which gives me plenty of time to study my outline (something I never appreciated until I started writing from a dual POV)!
I'm not sure at what point exactly it crossed into the realm of science fiction, but I'm also not surprised. I practically grew up on sci-fi, and it's one of my favorite genres to read and write. The worldbuilding is always so intricate and clever, and the characters are rich and diverse, navigating these unfamiliar worlds so seamlessly, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't influenced by certain sci-fi media. The MCU probably had the biggest impact on the story, and a lot of plot, world, and character elements were inspired by shows like Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Arcane (though I've never played League of Legends), and The Umbrella Academy.
I've also gotta give credit to Marissa Meyer, one of favorite sci-fi authors of all time. Her writing style is fantastic and has really helped guide me in developing my own style. The Lunar Chronicles were obviously influential, but I may or may not have definitely started reading her Renegades series for some pointers in writing about a city governed by superheroes.
I haven't completed writing this story yet, even after two years, but I'm more than halfway done and recently passed 50,000 words (which is generally considered the minimum word count for a novel). It's been such a special journey so far, and I'm really proud of the growth and progress I've made along the way.
TLDR; It was hard to pinpoint one thing specifically, but ultimately, what I thought would be just a gritty, standalone murder mystery novella has become the first novel in what I plan to be a four-book series. There's never a dull moment writing this book, and I can't wait to share it with the world one day.
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Join us for a bite won again :D I knew it would've gotten much farther in the main rounds if it wasn't killed in the first >:]
I myself voted for Labyrinth, but I can DEFINITELY respect Join Us For A Bite getting over 50% of the vote in a three way poll, I apparently underestimated its power!!! It's going to be a VERY interesting final match for sure!
(It does also mean that BOTH the songs I voted for are going to be in the third place match though so. Haha I'm in danger)
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sassmill · 1 year
Text
Oh man not self directed work tasks
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astonmartinii · 1 year
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you and me got a whole lotta history | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x historian!reader
y/n is a historian and it’s not her fault her bf’s job takes him all around the world…
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 102,561 others
location: melbourne 📍
yourusername: so it’s the australian grand prix and i’ve spent the start of the week exploring this old city. one of my stops was the historic old melbourne gaol. this now museum was once a prison that housed some of the most feared criminals in australian history. constructed in 1839, the old melbourne gaol saw 133 hanged for their crimes between 1845 and 1924. it was briefly used during world war two but ceased operation as a prison in 1924 and was renovated to be part of the RMIT university and the museum it is today. a definite must if you’re visiting melbourne !!
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user1: my fave part of the race week is y/n’s museum recommendations tbf
user2: i can vision charles being dragged around this place hating his life
charles_leclerc: the things we do for love
yourusername: you said you enjoyed it :(
charles_leclerc: I DID
user2: oops
yourusername: i’ll leave you at the hotel next time
charles_leclerc: it was scary but i enjoyed it because i was with you
yourusername: okay that’s better
danielricciardo: so my farm isn’t good enough for you
yourusername: noooooo danny i thought we were going after the race?
danielricciardo: oof my bad
user3: petition for there to be a teds notebook but it’s y/n giving us a historical guide to the city the race is in
f1: we’re listening @skysportsf1
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderica ferrari and 788,341 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: tough race in melbourne but a beautiful city regardless
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user4: HE served, we don’t talk about the race
yourusername: i don’t mean to say i told you so but i did say our day trip would be the best part
user5: girl you’re gonna get banned from the ferrari garage
yourusername: they deserve far worse than what i’m saying let’s be real
user5: true
user6: i love how charles didn’t reply ferrari has his ass ON LOCK
carlossainz55: we'll come back stronger
danielricciardo: we can all commiserate at my farm bro
charles_leclerc: your farm better be as good as you're saying now
danielricciardo: nervously awaiting the y/n review
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 104,561 others
location: miami 📍
yourusername: though miami may be known for it's partying (it's all about the U), charles and i took our monday to take a stroll around st bernard de clairvaux church, one of miami's hidden gems. the church was originally built in spain all the way back in 1141 to the style of cistercian romanesque architecture for alfonso vii. the monastry's cloister was illegally purchased by american william randolph hearst in 1926 and in order for the church to be transported it was dismantled to 11,000 pieces and sent to the us where it was rebuilt and still stands to this day.
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user7: i'm never gonna be able to afford to go to miami so why did i read this whole thing like i'll visit some day?
yourusername: history is important and interesting, always good to read even if you never visit !!
user8: she's like the older sister i never had
user9: did charles enjoy this one more?
yourusername: "at least i'll get a tan here"
charles_leclerc: i feel like anyone who reads about me in your comments will think i'm an asshole, i have fun every time i just don't understand most of it
yourusername: i know you have fun baby (and i love you for driving us to all of these places)
user10: have you considered our super historic frat house this saturday night?
user11: imagine thinking you have a chance when her literal boyf is CHARLES LECLERC
user10: every goal has a goalkeeper doesn't mean you can't score
charles_leclerc: i will run you over
user12: omg ferrari's pr is quaking
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, lancestroll and 112,677 others
yourusername: it is my biggest honour to announce my position as a history lecturer here at oxford!! i always dreamed of studying here and to get to pass on my knowledge to those looking to follow in my footsteps is a huge pleasure and responsibility.
p.s. no worries, it is not full time so race week explorations will continue.
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user13: so it was true :(((((( wait i just read the whole post my bad
user14: so i guess i now need to turn my Cs into As if i wanna attend a y/n lecture
charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you my love - don't miss me too much
yourusername: you sure i can't persuade you to move to england with me :(
charles_leclerc: i'll be there as much as i can be but monaco is still our home
yourusername: always
landonorris: proud of you smarty pants
yourusername: thank you landito
landonorris: so you'll now root for the brits?
charles_leclerc: over my dead body
yourusername: what charlie said
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charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,209,778 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: super happy for another win for the season but we keep pushing for the real prize at the end of the season - thank you for your continued support tifosi and my love y/n who stayed up all the way in oxford ❤️
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user20: i don't wanna jinx it but like the season is going well
user21: too well....
yourusername: winning looks good on you
charles_leclerc: you look better on me
pierregasly: oh god you've been apart for a triple header and now you're being horny on main
yourusername: says mr. doggy emoji
pierregasly: touche
user22: so charles can mathematically win in either austin or brazil FUCK THEM KIDS I NEED Y/N AT THESE RACES
user23: if she's not there for charles wdc i am personally going to have a sleepover on the train tracks
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yourusername added to their story
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 503,786 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: the autodromo jose carlos pace is the crown jewel of the interlagos neighbourhood. the circuit opened 83 years ago and has hosted the f1 since 1972. the circuit was originally meant to be a housing area but due to the 1929 stock market crash the owners decided to construct a racing track instead. interlagos is often a season decider with fernando alonso winning both his 2005 and 2006 titles here, kimi raikkonen winning the 2007 championship here, lewis hamilton won the 2008 championship here, jenson button clinched the 2009 title here and CHARLES LECLERC WON HIS FIRST TITLE HERE IN INTERLAGOS FOR THE 2023 SEASON
on a real note i am so proud of you charles, i have seen the sacrifices you have made and the unbelievable amount of effort you pour into every facet of your racing NO ONE deserves this more than you. i am so grateful to have shared this moment with you, here's to many more xxx
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user26: i am unwell this is so fucking cute
user27: bro this is so fucking crazy
charles_leclerc: couldn't have done it without you, so glad you could be there for me xx
yourusername: always charlie xx
yourstudent: miss y/n you can cancel all of our lectures if charles wins the championship again FORZA FERRARI
charles_leclerc: the people have spoken
user28: insane butterfly effect of the wall street crash to charles leclerc 2023 wdc
user29: they make me believe in love
note: this was super random but popped into my head while at work and i knew i had to write it !! hope you enjoyed xx
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javiscigarette · 1 year
Text
For You, I Would
Joel Miller x f!reader
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Summary: Joel catches you doing something you definitely shouldn't be doing and teaches you you lesson (or a prequel to Push and Pull aka the first time he sends you to subspace)
Warnings: no use of y/n, let's see, PWP, established relationship, dom Joel (daddy Joel near the end) fingering, crying, subspace, degradation, cum play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving), spitting, spanking, ass play, creampies, wet, messy, filthy smut
w/c: 9k of pwp oops
a/n: Sooo there are multiple requests that have been sitting in my inbox collecting dust for months so this is long overdue. And ummm I think I was possessed or something while writing this bc Whoa!!! it's a lot. Anyway, it was fun revisiting push and pull, hope this lives up to those standards lmao
my masterlist
"Yours" you pant, hands clawing at the blankets beneath you. "Always yours" "Mhm" he hums against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. "And that's why you like when it's too much. When I'm in charge and you have to do what I tell you, when you have to take what I give you and not complain about it. Because you like being mine"
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It happens on a late, rainy Saturday morning.
The bedroom is dark when you wake up, the rain pounding against the windowpane with a soft rumble of thunder in the distance. The spot next to you is empty but the smell of food cooking wafting upstairs and through the slightly cracked bedroom door lets you know where he is. 
You roll over to the empty side of the bed, the soft sheets still slightly warm. You bury your face into his pillow, the smell of his cologne and shampoo overriding your senses. And that's when you feel it, wetness seeping out of you down your inner thigh. You glance over to the alarm clock, which read 10:12am, 3 hours after Joel woke up with his raging hardon pressed firmly into the back of your thigh. 3 hours after he fucked you into the bed and how he made you cum around his cock twice before he unloaded inside of you, then slowly fucked his cum in as deep as he could get it. 
He got a wet rag to clean you up, but you were too sleepy and tried to actually get up and do something about the liquid slowly seeping out of you. But you kind of liked it, falling back asleep to the feeling of being full of his hot release, drops of it dribbling out of you even though you tried your best to keep it in. 
And now, your cunt is already aching at the thought of his cum still deep inside of you so much of it right where it should be. You inhale a deep breath with your face squished against the pillow, the scent of him going straight to your core and adding to the building pressure. You wish he was here; wish he would just fuck another load into you right now. But if he's making breakfast, then you can't complain. 
So, you take matters into your own hand. With a deep breath, you slip a hand between your bare thighs and press the heel of your palm to your clit, the friction immediately making you moan quietly into the pillow. You rock your hips slowly, lighting grinding against your hand before dipping your fingers into the mess leaking from your hole. You don't even think, you just do. You smear his cum on your cunt, coating it thickly and slipping two fingers into yourself with ease. It's almost embarrassing how easy you open up for them, how slick and wet you are, both from a couple hours ago and now. Your chest feels warm and tight as you slowly pump your fingers in and out of your swollen hole, letting soft moans tumble past your lips as you do so. You're so consumed in what you're doing that you don't hear the bedroom door creak open.
"What are you doing, baby?"
You gasp and yank your hand away like you've been burnt, rolling over onto your back and staring wide-eyed at him.
He's standing in the doorway, red and plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips. His arms are crossed over his bare chest, his face set in a deep frown. 
He caught you red fucking handed.
"N-nothing, I swear. I was just..." You're not sure how to finish that sentence. Your heart was already kicking in your chest from both arousal and the expectancy of Joel's next course of action. You knew you were in for it. You know you broke his rules. 
You cower under his icy glare, wishing you could just disappear into the mattress. But you can still feel a gush of slick seeping out of you, adding to the mess in between your legs. Your heart beats even faster as he silently crosses the room to the side of the bed where you're lying. He sits on the edge, one leg tucked under him so he can face you.
"Do you remember our rule?” His tone is sickeningly sweet and gentle.
 "I-I'm not allowed to touch myself unless you say."
"Mhm" he nods, his hand falling to your thigh. You can feel his grip through the comforter. "Was comin' up here to tell you breakfast is ready, and this is what I find. A bad little girl breaking the rules"
"I-I'm sorry, sir."
He's rubbing your thigh now, the soft fabric of the blanket separating his hand from your skin. "That's alright. It's okay to make mistakes."
The heaviness in your chest lightens at that, a soft smile curling on your lips. You thought you were really in for it.
"But you know what I have to do now, right?"
Your heart leaps back into your throat, a wave of nerves hitting you again, undercut with the wave of arousal causing more slick to leak out of your sore hole. You whine and squirm under the blankets, giving him the most remorseful look you can.  
"I'm sorry, sir" you whisper again, pleading with wide wet eyes. "Just wanted to feel you. Wanted more." Your voice wavers and trails off to a quiet whisper as you cast your eyes down in shame. 
Joel hums, his hand traveling further up your leg, pushing the blanket off your thigh in the process. His hand is warm and big, almost completely engulfing the flesh of your upper thigh.
"I know, baby" he murmurs, his eyes glued to where your thighs are pressed together. "Poor little thing is always so desperate to be filled, huh?"
You bite your lip and nod your head but keep your body perfectly still. You know better than to move right now after the stunt you just pulled. He moves his hand between your legs, his thumb swiping against the slick leaking out of you.
"My little slut is still all wet" he mumbles. The words make you shiver.
He wipes the pad of his thumb over your clit, causing you to gasp and jolt. He shushes you, his other hand coming to grip the underside of your thigh, slowly spreading your legs apart. A low groan, almost a growl, comes from deep in his chest at the sight of your swollen, sopping wet cunt on full display for him, his cum mixed with your sticky arousal leaking steady from your fluttering hole, dripping down, and sliding over your asshole onto the sheets below you.
"Such a sloppy little cunt" he murmurs, dragging his fingers through the mess and then pulling them away. Your eyes are glued to his movements, watching with rapt attention as he raises his hand and slips his fingers into his mouth, licking the wetness off them with a pleased hum.
"Gonna teach you a lesson, baby.” He announces after pulling his fingers from his mouth. “Gonna teach you to follow our rules.” 
"Please, sir” you plead. “I'll be good, I promise. Just...just wanna feel you."
"Oh, I know you’ll be good. And you're gonna feel me" he purrs, his fingers back on your cunt, spreading the slick around and rubbing against your clit. "Gonna fill you up, sweet girl.”
You whimper at his words, a new wave of arousal hitting you and coating his fingers. He groans and slips his middle finger into you with no resistance. 
"But first, m'gonna make you cum" 
You're shocked at his promise. He rarely lets you get off the hook this easy. He wastes no time, pumping his thick finger in and out of your cunt. You moan softly, the pleasure rippling through your stomach, your muscles tightening as he works. He wastes no time adding another finger and curls them up, rubbing at the spot that makes you see stars. Your walls flutter around him as electricity crackles down your spine and settles as white heat between your legs. You whimper as he massages your front walls, more slick and cum running down his fingers into his palm.
"Gettin' my hand all messy, baby" he mumbles.
You try to stifle a moan as you watch his fingers slide in and out of your drenched hole, the lewd wet sounds of it all fills the room and causes your cheeks to burn. It doesn't take long for him to bring you to the edge. It never does. He's had too much practice, knows your body and what buttons to press that get you there in no time.
"Close, sir. Please, I'm so close" you breathe, your hands fisted tightly in the sheets beneath you.
"Go on" Joel murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. "Cum all over my fingers, baby"
And then you're coming undone, a cry leaving your lips as your muscles clench and contract, the waves of pleasure hitting you like a ton of bricks. Joel groans, his fingers never slowing, and leans down to kiss and nip at your neck, his tongue running over the damp hallow of your throat while his other hand squeezes the flesh of your thigh.
"That's it, baby. So good for me, so good."
You're a whimpering mess, your hips rocking and chasing the high as he works you through your orgasm. You eventually start to come down, but his fingers are unrelenting. He continues to massage your front wall, his mouth attached to the base of your throat. You feel like jelly, your limbs heavy and boneless, the only thing grounding you being Joel's hot mouth sucking a dark hickey onto the side of your neck and his thick fingers buried in your cunt. 
"That's one" he mutters against your skin.
You gasp and whine. You know exactly what he means. 
"Joel, fuck I can't-"
"Don't fuckin' lie" he growls, his teeth nipping at your collar bone. "Needed to cum so badly that you had to break the rules and touch yourself and now you're sayin' you can't handle it?" 
"Joel, please. I-"
"You'll cum as many times as I tell you to. Greedy girl, should be grateful that I'm lettin' you cum at all"
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, the familiar tension beginning to build back up in the pit of your stomach. You try to squirm out from his grasp, even though you're well aware it's against your best interest to do so, but you can't help it. It's all so overwhelming and you know it's only going to get worse, that this is just the beginning of what he has planned for you. But his free hand quickly finds your hip, pinning you to the bed. You keep squirming, but the only movement you can manage is a slight roll of your hips against his hand. 
"Stay still and take what I'm givin' you" he grunts, his hand squeezing the flesh of your hip.
"Can't" you whimper. "Can't, 's too much"
Much to your surprise, Joel immediately retracts his hand and sits up straight again. The pressure of his fingers is gone, which you thought would be a relief, but all you feel is cold and empty. He glares down at you, one eyebrow raised expectantly as the muscles flex in his jaw. 
"You want me to stop?"
"No! No, I didn't mean it like that"
"What did you mean, baby? Because I'm not a mind reader. If you need me to stop, then you know what to say, don’t you?"
"I know, I just, I mean-"
"You just what? Just want to be bad still?"
His tone makes you feel small and little, and your cheeks burn. You'd probably cry if it were any other situation, but your cunt just clenches pathetically around absolutely nothing. 
"I meant, um, I meant it's too much and I can't handle it and-and"
"And you're being punished," Joel interjects "And you need to fucking deal with it" his gaze icy and dark.
You bite your lip and nod, tears pricking behind your eyes, but you blink them away. "Yes, Sir."
He hums approving, his wet hand sliding further up your thigh, back towards your center. 
"What's the safe word?" he asks, his tone slightly gentler. Just slightly. 
"Red" you squeak out. 
"Do you wanna use it?" 
you shake your head vehemently. "No, sir." 
He chuckles darkly, his wet fingers tracing over your cunt and teasing your entrance. "Didn't think so. Such a greedy little cockslut."
He's back inside you before you can even respond, pumping his two fingers in and out. You cry out, the sudden fullness and stretch making you writhe under him as his calloused finger pads rubbing against your velvety walls in just the right way. He doesn't bother letting you adjust, just immediately curls his fingertips and pummels against your g-spot. The familiar tension is already building again, but you're so sensitive, and it feels like too much, like a burning ache deep inside of you.
"Oh, god. Oh, fuck" you choke out, voice already watery and wrecked.
"Takin' my fingers so good, baby" Joel groans, his eyes fixed on where he's working in and out of your swollen cunt. "Look so pretty stuffed full of my fingers."
Your thighs shake and your breath gets caught in your throat, and that's how Joel knows.
"That's it. Cum, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze around me again"
You open your mouth, ready to tell him again how it's too much but all that comes out is a loud moan as the tightly wound cord finally snaps. Your walls clamp down around his fingers as your incessantly roll your hips, inadvertently grinding your clit against the heel of his palm. Your hand shoots up to grab his bicep, your fingernails digging into the skin so hard that you're positive you're drawing blood. 
"There you go, baby, that’s it. That’s two." 
He's not stopping, doesn't even slow down, and the intensity is so great that a few tears slip from your eyes. He finally takes his hand off your hip, allowing you to move your lower body, and instead uses his now free hand to push the thin straps of your camisole off your shoulders, tugging it down and exposing your chest.
"Play with your tits, baby" he growls, his fingers still moving inside of you. His voice is starting to sound a little further away as the blood pumping through your veins roars in your ear. Your hands immediately find your chest, squeezing your soft mounds before tweaking your nipples.
"Oh, god" you choke out, back arching off the mattress and into your own touch. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, and it feels like your heart is going to beat right out of your chest. The fire in your belly is burning bright again, creeping in before you can even recover from the last one. It's all too much. You feel like you're being lit on fire, the feeling in your core almost too intense. You're so overwhelmed and overstimulated yet so desperate for more all at the same time.
"Gonna cum for me again, baby?" Joel taunts, his lips curved in a devilish smirk.
You can't even respond, you can't do anything but lay there and let him work, a pathetic whining noise leaving your lips. Your hands are still on your breasts, playing with them as best you can, pinching and tugging at your nipples, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure and pain surge through you. You don't register what he's doing with his other hand until it’s pushing down on your stomach, right on top of where he’s stroking your spot with his fingers. And the tension snaps once again. 
And that's when the tears fall. 
Hot, wet drops stream freely down your cheeks as the dam breaks open. Your entire body tenses as you cum for the third time in less than 10 minutes, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through every cell in your body while you positively writhe underneath him. 
Joel notices and his fingers immediately still inside of you. Anxiety and concern replace the hunger in his eyes, his heart now pounding his chest for a completely different reason. 
"Color, baby" he says, his voice soft and gentle, doing a good job to mask the worry that's quickly consuming him. 
You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision enough to look at him. You can't make out his features, your eyes bleary with unshed tears, and your body is so wracked with tremors that you're unable to speak, your breath catching in your throat.
You don't answer, and it terrifies him. His hand slips from your core and you whine, feeling empty and cold and sore, more slick dripping down between your cheeks. He moves to lie next you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight against his chest. 
"M'sorry, baby" Joel whispers, his voice trembling slightly as you continue to sob into his chest. His heart pounds and his hands trembling where he's holding you. It takes another minute or two for you to calm down and finally take a deep breath. 
"M'okay" you manage to mumble, your lips brushing against his skin. He pulls back at the sound of your voice so he can look at your face. His stomach twists a little at the sight of your raw, tear-stained cheeks. 
"Fuck, baby. Are you sure? I shouldn't have pushed, should've listened to you, should've--" 
"It's okay" you breathe, cutting him off. "Wasn't too much just.... just felt really good" 
Joel frowns and wipes away some of your tears with the pad of his thumb "But you were cryin' honey."
You let out a faint chuckle. "Yeah. But...but it's good. Like, so fucking good"
His face relaxes a bit, relief washing over him as he sighs. "Had me worried, baby. Thought I went too far."
"No, no, you were perfect" you murmur. "Just...didn't expect it, I guess"
Joel hums and places a sweet kiss on your forehead. 
"How do you feel now?" he asks, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek.
"Shaky, sore. Tired."
He nods his head, his gaze dropping from yours for a moment.
"Think we should talk about this" he says after a few moments.
"We are talkin’" you giggle weakly.
"M'bein' serious" he huffs, his gaze returning to yours.
"I know" you sigh. "Talk about what?”
"What happened. That was a lot, baby. Never seen you come undone like that before"
"I told you it felt good” you remind him, snuggling a bit closer. “Better than good, actually"
"Well, I know that. But I need to know if you're okay, right?"
"Of course. You took care of me. Made sure I was alright"
"I mean, yeah, I did. But...but you’ve never cried like that, sweetheart. Scared me a little"
You stare up at him, his brown eyes full of concern but still so much of that familiar warmth. 
"I liked it" you say quietly, suddenly very aware of how close his bare chest is to your face. "Like a lot. Liked how...how in control you were. Like being used by you, liked the way it felt to be..."
"To be what, baby?"
"Overstimulated. I...I like it when it's too much."
"Jesus Christ" Joel groans, the sound vibrating in his chest and tickling your cheek. "Didn't know I had such a filthy girl in my bed."
"It's not filthy, it's...it's fun."
"Hmm, and that's the only reason?"
"Why else would I like it?"
"C'mon baby, don't play dumb. We both know why you like it"
"W-what are you talking about?"
He laughs, his chest bouncing, and rolls on top of you, his hands bracketing your face and his lips finding yours. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tasting you, his beard scraping against the smooth skin of your cheeks.
"I think you like it because it makes you feel small." He whispers when he pulls away. "And you like being taken care of and held down and bossed around and fucked."
"Joel" you whimper, his words sending a pulse straight to your already throbbing core.
"You like being a good girl for me" he continues, ghosting his lips along your jaw and down the side of your neck, sucking and nipping as he goes. "But you love being punished, don't you? Like when I use you and take whatever I want, however I want. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?"
"Yes" you moan, your legs falling open wider as he settles his body in between them. "God, yes. Love it when you fuck me and call me names and-- and hold me down and tell me what to do."
"I know, baby. Know you're a filthy little slut who needs to be taken apart. My dirty little girl. Aren't ya?"
"Yours" you pant, hands clawing at the blankets beneath you. "Always yours"
"Mhm" he hums against your neck, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.
"And that's why you like when it's too much. When I'm in charge and you have to do what I tell you, when you have to take what I give you and not complain about it. Because you like being mine"
His words bring back that floaty feeling, your heart starting to race in your chest again. He's right, he knows as much as you do. 
"I love it, Joel” you admit breathlessly. “Love being yours"
“I know, baby” Joel hums, his teeth nipping at the base of your throat. "And you want to keep going, don't you?"
"Please" you beg almost immediately, rolling your hips against his, your clit brushing up against the bulge in his sweatpants.
"Good girl" he growls, his hot tongue lapping at the sweat glistening on the skin of your neck. He trails wet, open-mouthed kisses from the hollow of your throat to your collarbone and down your sternum until he reaches your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub and making you gasp. He sucks and licks, the tip of his tongue swirling around stiff peak before switching to the other, the flat of his tongue laving over it.
"Love when I tease you like this too, huh honey?" he says, his hot breath fanning over your chest. "Love when I get you all worked up and touch you everywhere except the one place you want it."
"Yes, sir." you whine, threading your fingers through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp. He hums as he rolls his tongue around your nipple one last time before pulling back and sitting up.
"Hands and knees" he says firmly, and your stomach flutters at the command as you scramble to sit up and position yourself just like he wants. 
"Such a good girl" he croons, his large hand caressing the small of your back. "So eager and ready to please"
You let out a breathy whimper, his praise making you giddy.
"You gonna do what I tell you? Be my good little girl and let me play with that tight cunt until you can't think anymore?"
"Yes, sir" you nod.
"What's the safe word?"
"Red"
"And what are you going to do if you want me to stop?"
"Say red"
"Good girl."
The hand on your back slides lower, his palm cupping your ass.
"Spread your legs wider for me" he instructs, his other hand sliding up your spine and pushing your shoulder forward, encouraging you to lean down and put your face against the mattress. You do as he says, moving your knees apart and bowing your back, giving him a nice view of your ass.
"There ya go. Now, stay."
You wait in anticipation, wondering what's coming next. A few seconds later, he swats your ass cheek, not enough to necessarily hurt, but enough for it to sting a little. He rubs the reddened flesh, squeezing the cheek in his palm.
"So fuckin' pretty" he rasps. "My pretty girl."
He delivers a sharp slap to your opposite cheek, his palm connecting with the plump skin. Your cunt clenches and you moan at the delicious pain. He growls, delivering a couple more smacks, a bit harder this time, before soothing the tender flesh.
He then leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the small of your back, his beard tickling your skin before moving lower. You feel his hot breath against your slit as his palms slide down and grab handfuls of your ass, his thumbs spreading your cheeks and exposing your cunt and asshole. 
"Jesus Christ" he hisses, his warm breath fanning over your pussy. "You're fucking soaked, baby."
Without warning, he drags his tongue through your folds, lapping at your swollen and dripping core. You let out a wet gasp, the sensation immediately rekindling the fire in your belly. 
"So goddamn sweet" Joel groans, He buries his face between your legs, his tongue and beard driving you crazy, the scratch of his stubble burning on your inner thigh. He sucks on your clit, his lips closing around the swollen nub and pulling it into his mouth, his tongue flicking expertly at the little bud. You're so oversensitive and can already feel the coil tightening again.
He flattens his tongue and licks from your clit to your aching hole over and over again. He gets higher and higher with each one until his tongue is lapping at your other hole.
"Oh, fuck" you cry out, the unexpected sensation of his tongue probing at your ass throwing you off guard. Your cunt clenches, and Joel feels it, the vibration making him hum, his beard still scraping the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. He presses his face harder between your cheeks, his tongue swirling around your entrance before pushing in.
The sounds of your strained moan echo through the room as he fucks his tongue in and out of your tight hole. You squirm, desperate for some friction on your aching cunt, but you're unable to move, his large hands holding your hips firmly against his face. He doesn't let up, his tongue pumping in and out, fucking you and driving you absolutely crazy. He groans as you clench around him, the sound vibrating against you and making you shake. The heat is building rapidly, and your vision starts to blur.
"Gonna make you cum again, angel. Wanna see you fall apart with my tongue in this sweet little hole and my fingers in your tight little cunt"
"Please" you whine, not knowing how much more you can take.
He pulls back, but you only have a second of missing the feeling before he spits on your cunt and uses his fingers to spread it around, mixing it with the slick that's still dripping out of you. He slides a finger inside, hissing when he feels the tight heat of your pussy once again. He adds another, and quickly builds up to that devastating pace, thick fingers pumping in and out of your needy cunt.
"So fuckin' tight" he murmurs, curling his fingers and stroking your walls. "Still so fuckin' tight and wet." You squeeze your eyes closed and breathlessly pant as he scissors his fingers, stretching and opening you up. He adds a third this time, the slide slick and easy as your hole graciously takes what he gives you. His thumb presses on your clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub while he uses the other t=hand to grab your ass and spread you open again. He spits again this time on your asshole, just adding even more to the mess. 
"Joel" you cry, his name falling from your lips in a whisper. He's fucking your pussy with his fingers, his thumb working your clit. He doesn't respond, just leans back in and starts lapping at your asshole again. You feel the tension build again, the heat coiling deep inside your gut, the pleasure so intense and overwhelming. Your legs shake and your hips rock back and forth, your body desperate for relief.
"That's it, honey. Want to feel you cum again. Feel how tight and wet you get when I fuck this ass with my tongue and play with your messy little cunt."
Your toes curl, and your back arches, the pressure becoming unbearable. Your pussy squeezes around his thick fingers, and the coil snaps, the tension releasing and the dam breaking. Your mind goes blank, and you scream and sob, your vision turning white. You cry, convulse, and tremble, your whole body shaking as your 4th orgasm rocks through you. He fucks you through it, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of you and his tongue lapping at the slickness between your cheeks.
"Holy shit, baby" he breathes, pulling away when you finally start to come down. You feel him shift behind you, his fingers sliding out of your pulsing pussy and his body moving away from yours. You're still trembling, and your body is numb. Your head feels heavy, and your eyelids are starting to droop. You feel him moving behind you, but you're too exhausted to turn and look at him. 
But that doesn't fly with him.
"Look at me" he commands, and it takes nearly all of your remaining energy to turn your head and look at him over your shoulder. His pupils are blown, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. He growls low and deep in his chest, his cock lurching in his pants, and he can't wait any longer. He sits up and fumbles with his drawstring, yanking the knot loose and shoving his plaid pajama pants down his hips. You whimper when his cock springs free, finally relieved of its confines. He hisses as the cold air hits him, but quickly kicks the pants off the rest of the way.
"Can you talk to me, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained as he wraps a hand around his stiff length.
"Yes, Sir" you sniffle, blinking tears out of your eyes. 
"Tell me how you're feeling, baby"
"Sore, Sir. But I like it. feel...floaty"
"That's alright, baby. Just relax. Daddy's going to take care of you, okay? I'm going to use this sweet little pussy, and you're gonna lay there and take it like a good girl for me, alright?"
The name he uses causes another strong wave arousal to course through your veins before settling between thighs. The two of you rarely use it - it's usually sir for you, and he rarely calls himself that. But it’s perfect for the moment and you can't help the way your heart speeds up at the sound of it.
"Yes, daddy." you moan, loving the way your lips form around the word, the way it effortlessly slides off your tongue. "Whatever you want. Anything."
"God, you're such a sweet girl" he moans. "Such a good girl, baby. Gonna be daddy's good little slut?"
"Yes, please" you nod, desperate for him to touch you. "Wanna be a good girl."
"I know, angel. Daddy knows." He moves, hovering over you as he digs the lube out of the nightstand. "Gotta make sure you're nice and wet first" 
There’s absolutely no need for it. You’re drenched with cum and slick and spit, wetter than you’ve probably ever been. But he knows how you like it. How he likes it. Wet, hot, and so, so messy.
He sits back, and you watch him squirt some of the liquid into his palm and rub it up and down his length. It's mesmerizing, watching him stroke his cock, the thick, head disappearing and reappearing through the circle of his fingers, his shaft growing even more flushed and the veins protruding and twitching, precum beading at his slit, some of it dripping over his knuckles. You're not sure how much more teasing you can take.
"Always so fucking wet and ready for me" he murmurs, rubbing his cock up and down your dripping folds, getting himself even wetter with your juices. "Such a sweet little whore for me, hm? Sweet messy little slut, always begging to be fucked and filled up" 
You're about to say something, about to beg and tell him yes, you're ready, please, please fuck me, please, sir, when you feel his fingers dip into your pussy again. You moan as he gathers more of your slick and brings his hand to his cock, slathering himself in your juices.
"Messy little thing" he muses. He can't wait any longer. With the tip of his cock against your entrance, he grabs your hip with one hand and your shoulder with the other.
"Tell me you're mine, darlin'" he orders.
"Yours" you immediately whine through tears, arching your back and pushing your hips back. "I'm yours. All yours. Please, Joel, I can't—".
You're cut off by the pressure of his thick cock sliding into your heat. It's a tight fit, a snug squeeze, despite him opening you up on his fingers and tongue. You don’t think you’ll ever be used to his size, his sheer length and girth stretching you out until it burns, no matter how wet and ready you are. 
But he goes slow, sinking in inch by inch, allowing your walls to stretch and accommodate his size. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind together, his eyes falling shut. "That's it, sweet girl" he murmurs, slowly pushing further. "Just relax and let daddy in."
"Daddy" you whimper weakly, your cunt clenching and pulsing around him.
"Take my cock, baby. Just like that."
You're shaking and sweating, your is head spinning. The feeling of him pushing inside is like nothing you've ever felt before, even though you’ve taken him countless times. He's hot and hard, filling and stretching you to the point where you can barely breathe.
"So big" you choke out. "So full 'n sore, daddy" you cry, tears starting to stream down your face again. 
"I know, honey. I know"
He bottoms out, his hips pressing flush against the cheeks of your ass. You gasp and sob, the feeling of him being fully seated inside of you and the stretch and burn overwhelming you. He gives you a minute to adjust, waiting until your breathing returns to normal and the shaking in your limbs subsides. When he feels you relax a bit, he pulls out, slowly dragging his length out until only the tip is left, before pushing back in.
"You're bein’ so sweet, baby. Lettin’ daddy use your tight little pussy."
You don’t say anything in response, just bury face into the sheets, grabbing handfuls of the fabrics as you sob. 
He takes a deep breath and starts to move. Slowly, gently, he pulls out halfway and slides back in, his movements measured and precise. He wants to take his time, doesn't want to hurt you, but the tight squeeze of your cunt, the wetness and the heat and the slick, velvety walls clenching around him are making it difficult.
"More" you gasp. "Please, daddy, more. Need it. Need you."
And how could he deny you that? How could he not give you everything you want, everything you need? So, he sits up and slides his hands back to your hips, gripping them tightly and pulling you back onto him as he rolls his hips forward, the force and the angle making his cock slide over your g-spot. Your vision goes fuzzy, and the air leaves your lungs, and when you finally manage to gasp, his name falls from your lips.
"Fuck" he groans, the sound of his deep, raspy voice sending a rush of fresh wetness around his cock. He can't help but start thrusting into you, snapping his hips against yours, the obscene slapping noise of skin on skin filling the room. “Look at you, poor little baby cryin’ for my cock” 
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just reaches up and tangles his hand in your hair, his other hand holding on tight to your waist, gripping the soft skin. He yanks, his fingers threaded through your hair and pulling you up, forcing your back to arch. The new angle makes your head spin, his cock dragging against your sensitive spot and his hips grinding against your ass.
"Daddy!" you gasp. You want to tell him how good it feels, how his cock is filling you up, his size stretching you and hitting places that have never been touched. You want to tell him that you're not sure you're ever going to be able to cum again without his thick cock splitting you open. But your mind is clouded, your body overwhelmed and your tongue heavy. The most you can manage is his name, over and over, a breathless, broken, raspy mantra.
"Yeah, baby" he grunts. "Take it just like that. My good girl takes everything I give her"
And you do. 
You take and take and take and when you're not taking, you're begging. Begging for him to keep going, begging for more, begging him not to stop. And the more you beg, the faster his pace becomes, his hips stuttering against yours. And the faster he goes, the lighter you feel.
The fog that has settled in your brain is becoming thicker and heavier, and when you start to feel weightless, like you're floating, you realize you can't move. Your limbs are heavy, and all you can do is lay there, limp, useless, and completely at his mercy. Your ears start ringing faintly, and your body feels warm and tingly and the only thing keeping you tethered to reality is Joel.
"My good girl" he grunts "So fuckin' pretty. So beautiful like this. Just lettin' me use you like a goddamn little fuck toy, huh? Lettin' me fuckin' ruin you? You love it, don't you?"
You can't even respond. Can't form a sentence, can't form a single word. You're not even sure if you could make a noise. Your eyelids are fluttering, and your eyes roll back into your head, and the only thing keeping you from floating away is the pressure of Joel's hand around your waist. But soon that's not even enough to keep you grounded. Your entire body starts tingling and the ringing in your ears grows louder, and when Joel's thrusts become harder, his cock drilling into you with abandon, his balls slapping against you, and the obscene, wet noises of his cock pumping in and out of you filling the air, the tingling gets stronger, and your body begins to feel numb.
You start to slip, and with your face still turned to the side, Joel watches in awe as it happens. 
The feeling is so intense, and when Joel's other hand grips your other side, holding you in place as he fucks you, it's enough to make you spiral. Your vision goes dark, and you stop hearing the sounds of skin slapping and the dirty things coming out of his mouth and the creaking of the bed and the squeak of the mattress springs. All you can feel is his thick cock filling you, the tip brushing against your cervix with each thrust, his balls hitting your clit, the heat of his body on top of yours, the heat of his skin searing into your back. You can feel the wetness leaking out of you and the tightening coil of desire low in your belly, pleasure so intense, all consuming. You float out of your body, time and space ceasing to exist. Your mind is completely wiped, your vision black with stars dancing across your field of view. You feel weightless, free.
And then there's nothing left. No more thoughts, no more feelings. Just bliss. Peace.
Just Joel.
There is nothing except the weight of Joel's body on top of yours and the pressure of his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your waist, holding you in place while he fucks you. There's nothing else. Nothing. You can't even think anymore. Your mind is blank, empty, and the only thing that remains is the feeling of his body on top of yours, and the heat. God the heat. 
He's hot.
You're hot.
So fucking hot.
Everything is white hot and it's too much. It's too much and not enough, and it's not long before your body starts tensing, and your toes curl and the muscles in your legs clench and spasm and the pressure builds, and builds, and builds. And you don't even know what's happening, can't even process it. 
It's not until his fingers find your clit again when the orgasm hits, the first wave of pleasure crashing over you, riptides dragging you underneath. It's the strongest orgasm of your life, the strongest you've ever had, and it doesn't even end. It just keeps building and building, the waves continuing, and every time you think it's over, another wave comes crashing down on top of you, stronger than the last, the pleasure ripping through your body and leaving you trembling and twitching and writhing, tears rolling steadily down your cheeks.
"There you go, baby" Joel rasps. " Just let go. Let it take over. Cum all over daddy’s cock."
It's like his words are an instruction manual, and you have no choice but to follow his command. The second he says it, you feel the tight coil inside your belly snap, the pressure releasing and flooding your veins, a tsunami of euphoria washing over you and dragging you deeper and deeper into the ocean.
"I'm gonna fill this greedy little pussy up again, sweetheart" he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic and his rhythm faltering. "Know how much you love it when it's drippin' out of you. Know how much you love the mess, my filthy, desperate, little cockslut"
You can't hear him, the sound of his voice too fuzzy and distant. You can't speak, your body and mind still floating, the world spinning and the darkness threatening to take over, to consume you, and the only thing that grounds you is the feeling of his skin on yours.
"Gonna cum inside you. Gonna pump that pussy full, gonna fuckin’ breed you, sweetheart”
And just like that, he does. He slams his cock into you one last time, bottoming out and burying himself inside you, the tip of his cock pressed right up against your cervix, his thick cockhead kissing the opening of your womb.
"Please, daddy" It's all you can manage to get out, and even though it's quiet, and barely a whisper, it's enough to send him over the edge.
"Fuck" he rasps, his cock throbbing and pulsing, his hips twitching as his cum floods your cunt. "That's it, take it, baby. Take all of it. Let it fill you up nice and good."
He collapses on top of you, his body flush with yours, his face buried in your hair, his breathing shallow and labored. He's panting, the rise and fall of his chest and the beating of his heart the only things that keep you from falling into the darkness. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, the heat of his skin against yours. He's warm and solid and he smells good, and it's comforting and safe and secure.
"Fuck" he breathes, the warmth of his exhale tickling the skin behind your ear. "Are you okay?"
His voice is quiet, concerned, and you can't even nod, let alone answer him, but when his lips find the pulse point in your neck, the light press of his soft lips sending a wave of relief through your body, the darkness receding and the fog clearing, the only thing that passes your lips is a shaky sigh.
"I got you, darlin'" he whispers, nuzzling the side of your face. "I'm here."
"Joel" you mumble, voice weak and watery. It's all you're able to get out, but it's enough.
"I know" he murmurs, his mouth finding the skin just below your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive spot. "I know. I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. I promise."
He sits up and pulls his softened cock out, watching as his cum leaks from your stretched out pussy. He groans, sliding his hands up and down your thighs, his eyes drinking in the sight.
"Messy girl" he murmurs, swiping his fingers through the pool of wetness dripping from your cunt. "Look at all this. My cum leakin' outta your sloppy little cunt”  
You can only whimper softly, your thighs closing around his hand. He takes the hint and removes it, wet fingers smoothing over your hipbone.  
He moves to lie next you again, his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you against his body, the feeling of his bare chest pressed to yours and the soft brush of his lips on your hairline is enough to keep you tethered to reality. The two of you stay there for a while and your breathing synchs to the rhythm of his before he talks again. 
"You went somewhere, didn't you?" he murmurs. His voice is a little husky, a little raspy, and his accent is a little thicker than usual. "Somewhere far away."
"Yeah" is all you can manage to say. You're not quite sure if it's a question or a statement, and either way, you're not even sure how to explain it.
"Was it a good place?"
"Mhm" you nod, the memories of the feeling coming back to you, the way your body felt like it was floating and the way everything just disappeared and the way everything went black and how you could barely breathe. "So good, Joel"
"Yeah? You liked that?"
Another nod.
"You want that again, honey?"
"Yeah" you say quietly. "Want you to push me. Make me cry, make me feel it."
"Mmm, think I can do that again, sweetheart” Joel assures, squeezing you a bit tighter.
"And tell me I'm yours” you add softly.
"You’re mine, sweet girl. You belong to me, and only me."
"And no one else's."
"No one else's" he repeats.
"Say it."
"You're mine. And no one else's."
"Thank you."
"Anything for you, darlin’. Now let’s get you cleaned up” 
You whine in protest, not wanting to move a muscle as he rolls off the bed. But then he scoops you up into his arms, his strong arms under your knees and your back.
"What are you doing?" you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Can't have you walkin'" he replies. "You can barely open your eyes, I ain't about to let you fall on your ass."
He's right, of course. Your legs feel weak and shaky, and the second he lets go of you, you're not sure you'd be able to stay standing. But he doesn't let go, not even when you're both in the shower and he sets you down on the bench under the warm stream. His strong hands rub soap into your skin, lathering and washing away the sweat and the stickiness, and by the time the suds have rinsed away, the water is turning cold.
"We're gonna have to fix that" he mutters.
"Fix what?"
"This shit water heater."
You hum, the vibrations buzzing against his chest. He turns the water off and reaches for a big, fluffy towel, wrapping it around you and rubbing the fabric over your skin, drying you off. You brush your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror, Joel wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side. 
"Joel?" you start after setting your toothbrush back in the cup. 
"Hm?"
"I love you."
The smile on his face is soft and sweet and his eyes crinkle in the corners.
"I love you too, angel. Now, you stay right here, I'm gonna go strip the bed and I'll be right back, okay?"
You sit on the closed toilet seat lid, wrapped in your fluffy towel. Your eyes are heavy and droopy as you watch him out in your shared bedroom, pulling the soaked sheets off the bed and switching them for fresh ones as fast as he can. He picks out the white ones with the little blue flowers. The ones he knows are your favorite. You're exhausted and spent and satisfied, and the sight of him doing the most domestic task is almost enough to bring more tears to your eyes. You're not sure why, but the emotions are overwhelming, and you have to take a deep breath, steadying yourself.
He carries you back to bed, pulling the comforter over you and propping the pillows up behind you so you can lean back comfortably.
"Gonna go get some food, kay?" he finds the TV remote on the nightstand and hands it to you. "Here. Find something for us to watch. I'll be right back, don't you go anywhere, y'hear?"
"Yes, sir" you mumble, taking the remote and giving him a mock salute.
He shakes his head and laughs, then presses a kiss to your forehead before heading downstairs. The room is quiet when he leaves, the only sound left being the rain still steadily pounding against the window. You take it in, the quiet moment all to yourself. The smell of sex and sweat and his cologne and your body wash still lingers in the air, and you can still feel the tingling of your skin where his mouth and his hands had been, where his fingers and his teeth and his tongue had marked and claimed and branded you. You can still feel him everywhere. His breath on your skin, the ghost of his lips and his tongue. His hands gripping your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, the memory of the pain making your cunt ache.
He returns before your thoughts can wander too far, a plate filled with food in his hands, and a grin taking up over half of his face. 
"Reheated your breakfast that you should've been eatin' damn near two hours ago" he teases, handing the plate over. "My special omelet. And toast."
He crawls onto the bed next to you, leaning back against the pillows and stretching his long legs out, then takes the plate back from you. He picks up a piece of the toast and holds it to your lips.
"Open" he orders.
You roll your eyes. "I can feed myself, Joel." But the second you see the look on his face, you open your mouth, letting him place the bread on your tongue.
"I know" he smirks. "But I can feed you, too."
"Thank you" you mumble around the bread, the corner of your mouth turned up.
"Anything for you, darlin'"
You eat the omelet in bites off the fork that he holds and the toast from his hand. He makes sure to place the plate carefully to catch all the crumbs too. And when the plate is empty, he sets it down on the nightstand, trading it for the tall glass of ice water with one of your favorite straws.
"Drink" he instructs. You obey and he watches you the whole time, only taking back the cup when he's satisfied with how much you take.
"That's my good girl" he purrs, reaching over to the nightstand for the bottle of your favorite lotion. "My good, good girl."
He squeezes some of the lotion into his palm, the smell of strawberries filling the air, and he starts rubbing it into your skin. He starts with your hands, massaging each finger, gently pressing down on your knuckles until they pop. He knows you hate it but he loves the noises, and the way your nose scrunches up is adorable. Then he moves to your arms, squeezing your bicep before rubbing his hands over your shoulders, down the slope of your back, and then up the front, working the cream into your neck, your collarbone, the tops of your shoulders, and then over the swell of your breasts. He massages them, kneading the tender flesh, rolling your nipples between his fingers, and when the lotion is rubbed in and your skin is soft and dewy, he leans down and wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking gently and pulling a soft gasp from your lips.
"Joel" you whimper, the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin and his rough beard scratching at your chest making your sore, aching pussy throb.
"Mmhmm, darlin'?"
"Kiss me"
He does as he’s told, his lips soft and gentle when they meet yours. It's nothing like the rough, frantic kisses from earlier, the bruising press of his lips against yours, the desperate clash of teeth. This time, it's a tender kiss, a brush of lips and a gentle caress. His lips are featherlight on yours, his breath sweet on your tongue, the taste of the peach tea he loves so much flooding your mouth, the flavor reminding you of the fading summer.
He pulls away and looks at you with the dopiest grin 
"What?" you laugh.
"Nothin'" he replies, the smile still not fading.
"No, not nothing. What is it? Why are you smiling like that?"
"Just happy, darlin. Now pick somethin’ to watch.'"
Your cheeks heat and turn red, and you can't help the small smile that stretches across your lips or the giggle that escapes when he wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer. You're nestled into his side, his arm wrapped around you and his chin resting on top of your head. You grab the remote and click through all options. Joel groans from above you when you settle on your final choice. 
"Moana? Again? That's like the third time this week." 
You just giggle and snuggle up closer to him, your cheek smushed against his warm, bare chest as the opening scene starts to play.
"I love you" you whisper, your warm breath diffusing across his skin. 
"Love you, too, baby."
You close your eyes, the warmth of his body and the steady beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the comforting feeling of being cradled against him lulling you to sleep. This is heaven, and you're sure of it.
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sometimes I wonder if there's something seriously wrong with me. Then I realize that I'm just ovulating. Thank you for reading, lemme know if you enjoyed it hehehe I love you all soo much!!
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lieutnt · 9 months
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a commission for @chxrrylime
beta/alpha!male reader x omega!john price x omega!simon "ghost" riley summary: price and ghost help you with your first rut after your sudden change from a beta to an alpha. warnings: nsfw, minors dni. omegaverse, brief illness, threesome, knotting, creampies. sorry for the delay on this! had it like 80% written by saturday and then i had a time the next few days. i got carried away with the word count so oops.
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Price was normally resistant to others being assigned to his task force, but when your file found its way on his desk curiosity got the better of him. Not just because you were a Beta, although that did help his willingness to accept you, but because you filled a hole in the team. Your skills and training had rounded out the task force, being a Beta was an added bonus. 
There was still lingering doubt in Price’s mind, but weeks after you had joined and Gaz went into heat you offered to help. You had been the perfect carer - staying with him the entire time and making sure he was fed, hydrated and happy. Afterwards Gaz had privately gushed about you to the rest of the 141, unable to think of a time when his heat had gone so smoothly. You had repeated the process with Soap and Price, both getting to experience your gentle touch first hand, and even Ghost had let you help him.
After months of working with the team Price had begun to notice some changes in your behaviour. You were more on edge when the 141 worked with other soldiers, hesitating to leave them alone if an Alpha was in the room. He picked up on you offering the others food from your own plate if they complained they were still hungry, despite the fact that you’d barely even finished half of yours. You even began developing a stronger scent, something different from when you had first joined.
Worry filled his mind when one day Gaz & Soap had barged into his office, panicking about how they couldn’t wake you. Once Price had joined them in running to your room he was immediately calling for a medic, your body covered in a sheen of sweat, barely responsive to their attempts at rousing you. They each took their turns pacing outside your room once you had been taken to a hospital, the doctor’s unsure what was happening to you. You had stayed like that for days, a fever wracking your body and unconscious as change forced its way through your veins.
Price had been elated when he received the phone call that you were awake, but once the 141 had gathered at the hospital they were ushered into a separate room before they could see you. A doctor was already waiting for them, a look of concern on her face. 
An Alpha. They couldn’t wrap their head around it, you had changed into an Alpha. The doctor had tried to explain how in very rare cases something like this can happen but they were too shocked to absorb anything she was explaining. Soap & Gaz appeared unbothered, more concerned with wanting to see you but one look between Price and Ghost and they knew they were thinking similarly.
Filing into your room they were hit with a wave of pheromones you didn’t know you were releasing, a deep down part of them stirring when your scent immediately turned relaxed at seeing them, Soap and Gaz not hesitating to give you hugs as Ghost lingered on the outside of the group while Price simply placed a hand on your shoulder, “It’s good to see you lad,” he said, attempting to bury the worry threading through his mind.
The doctors advised you be taken back to your home base so that’s what they did, alongside the thought that they’d have to explain certain things to you. You weren’t dumb - you knew how Alphas worked, but knowing and doing were two very different things. You had to rely on someone else telling you when you were stinking up the room with Alpha smell, or when you easily slipped back into your old routine except this time it appeared more like courting than caring, and Price and Ghost, as the most experienced, could see how your new heightened senses were weighing on you, struggling in the presence of four omegas.
Waking up you were confused at your state, your senses acting as if they had a personal vendetta against you, and you were even more confused when Gaz had taken one look at you and escorted you back to your room as if you were a scared animal, telling you to sit while he fetched Price. 15 minutes later Price and Ghost stepped through your door, shutting it behind them as Price sat next to you. “Do you know what’s happening lad?”
You didn’t know, brain struggling to conjure up any ideas without being distracted by the smell of omega. Swallowing heavily, you shook your head, “No sir.”
Ghost spoke up, “Think you’re going into rut.” He remained leaning against the wall, gaze locked on you.
Brows furrowing you used what brain power you had left to think it over. It matched with the experiences you had heard from other Alphas, but- “I don’t have anything prepared,” you mumbled, brain ticking with what would follow the next few days.
Price had a faint smile on his face, hand resting on your shoulder for reassurance. “We know, which is why, if you want, we think it’s our turn to help you.”
The air sharpened with arousal and you heard Ghost’s faint scoff of laughter, “Think he likes that idea, boss.”
Price’s hand slid from your shoulder to around the back of your neck, forcing you to turn your head and face him. “Only if you want,” he reiterated, thumb gently stroking the back of your neck.
Blood was already pooling south, your cock twitching in its confines at the idea of having them both underneath you. You didn’t realise you had been thinking about it for so long until Price briefly tightened his grip, bringing you back to the present. Nodding your head eagerly, your eyes flicked between Price and Ghost, “Please.”
Sinking into Ghost’s hole felt nothing short of heavenly, the warmth of his walls pulsing to ease your way in and steadily melting your brain, your mouth dropping open to release an airy moan once you were buried as deep as you could go. Just enough awareness was flickering behind your eyes to start slow, gently rocking your hips while Ghost adjusted to the stretch of your cock. 
Price was by your side, cautiously watching your movements to make sure you didn’t go too rough before Ghost was ready. As soon as your hips punched forwards unexpectedly Price was slanting his mouth against yours, distracting you from your impatience as Ghost grunted from the force. The smell of not one but two aroused omegas had your alpha preening, deepening the kiss with Price and lowly growling as your hand encased the back of his head to hold him close, only parting when Ghost began to roll his hips back and forth.
Your hands fell to Ghost’s hips, guiding his movements as each of your thrusts grew faster and harder until skin was slapping against skin, vision tunnelling as your pupils dilated, only focused on the omega around your cock and the breed, mate, instinct that was swirling in your mind.
Pushing Ghost down you surged over him, covering his body with yours as your teeth skated across his back, barely resisting the temptation to bite and mark him, to let the world know who he belonged to, whose bed he was warming. Price was by your side again, kissing at your neck and shushing your half-growls, attempting to soothe the possessive claim. His hands ran across your body, one stroking through your hair while the other never stopped moving, letting you know he was there.
Your pace never faltered, even as Ghost began warning you he was close, cock bobbing against his stomach at your thrusts while his moans grew faster and faster until his body seized, muscles trembling as he painted the bed under him with his release. Once out of the floating of his climax Ghost could feel the beginnings of your knot catching on his rim, the bulb steadily growing with each of your frantic thrusts as his knees buckled, sending him flat against the bed as the tension thrumming through your body finally snapped, knot punching its way past his rim and locking you together.
It was like a dam had burst, his insides flooded with your cum as your hips stuttered, a chest rattling growl crawling its way out of your throat. Despite the fact that you couldn’t thrust you instead grinded against Ghost, cock twitching with each pulse of cum that his fluttering walls milked from you. After a lifetime of minutely jerking your hips you finally slumped against Ghost, growls replaced with heavy breaths and a rumbling purr as you rolled to your side, bringing Ghost with you and hugging him to your chest. Burrowing your nose into the back of his neck your alpha was temporarily satiated at your scent mixing with Ghost’s.
Faintly, you heard Price speak up. “You ok Simon?”
Ghost was breathing as heavily as you, voice hoarse and dry, “Mhm, just-” he gasped almost silently as your hips twitched, knot tugging against his rim, “full,” he huffed, bearing his teeth as you began to grow restless.
Price’s attention quickly switched to you, hand wiping the sweat-coated hair off your forehead, “What’s the matter lad?” After attempting and failing to pull out of Ghost your hand hurried downwards, finger prodding at his tightened rim until it could push inside and separate you enough to pull your knot out. As much as you wanted to lean down and tongue your cum back into his hole your brain had other ideas, body surging up to Price and licking into his mouth while you pushed him onto his back, pupils blown wide.
Price watched curiously as you nipped down his throat and chest, “Gotta breed you,” you slurred, eyes half-lidded and cock hard and ready between your legs. He released a steadying breath, hole twitching at your eagerness.
His head rolled back on his shoulders as two of your fingers poked at his entrance, easily sliding in with the preparation you had done earlier and the mixture of his own slick. Before you could get too lost and overstimulate him and yourself Price pulled you back up to his lips with a hand in your hair, ignoring the noise of discontent you made and kissing you again, reaching down to align your tip with his hole. If it was another time and place he would’ve laughed at how easily you crumbled, but as your cock slipped inside him he groaned against your mouth, letting his body rock with your thrusts.
When Price and Ghost first emerged from your room once your rut was over Soap and Gaz tried their best to look unfazed, pointedly ignoring the way they were both stretching out sore muscles. “He ok?” Gaz asked, eyes attempting to search for you and noticing your absence.
Price nodded, “Just showering.”
Always the bolder of the two Soap couldn’t help but question, “How was it?” At Gaz’s pointed look he shrugged, “As if ye weren’t wonderin’.”
Price huffed amusingly, fingers scratching through his sideburns, “Think we’ll have our hands full with him.”
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Has anyone written this season from Tommy’s POV yet?? Because if so please tag me, but in the meantime I just had to outline the crazy sequence of events from his POV:
- Haven’t heard from the 118 in years and suddenly Howie is asking me to fly them into a hurricane
- But also we gotta wait for Hen but you’re gonna need to go get her so we can dramatically surprise her from inside the helicopter
- Can’t believe these losers were actually right and we just found an overturned cruise ship
- Start talking to Eddie in the aftermath and have so much in common, exchange numbers so we can hang out
- A day later Evan Buckley calls the station and asks if he can come by for a tour whenever I’ve got some free time and he seems cool too so why not
- My buddy in Vegas gets awesome tickets to the fight and convinces me to fly out and hey Eddie mentioned he’s into MMA right?
- Evan is super excited about everything but also doesn’t really seem like he’d actually want to switch stations so that’s odd - but hey flying is awesome and I can’t resist a little eye candy so I’ll offer to teach him
- Fight is awesome. Eddie is awesome. New friends are awesome and it’s rare that you have so much in common with someone so we are BFFs now
- Vibes at basketball were strange?? Apparently Evan doesn’t usually play but he shows up and gets really intense and I end up having to take Eddie to get his ankle patched up
- Painkiller!Eddie starts mumbling about how this is all his fault and he knows how Buck gets jealous and….oh now I feel bad
- Let me go to Evan’s place and clear the air - didn’t mean to cause all this drama I just wanted all the new friends
- I might be reading this wrong but Evan is flirting with me…? While also talking about Eddie way too much??
- Okay he is definitely flirting with me but also I am still not convinced he was jealous over me
- But also how can you not kiss a guy like that when he’s flirting with you and then rambling??
- Damn I really hope that was okay because I did not give him a lot of warning
- ����😁 it was okay
- Gotta get out of here before I get distracted by kissing this man and miss my shift
- But can’t let Evan overthink it too much so make sure I secure a date before I go
- Oops almost forgot I came here to fix what I broke between him and Eddie - one last reminder and we’re good!
- Can’t wait for Saturday…
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libraford · 4 months
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(I have permission to share this.)
Text- from Walking Distance Brewing Company
Happy Pride month! We are here another year to celebrate Pride with you! Thank you for your love and support through a difficult year of slander and harassment. Your support has not just kept us afloat but has made us thrive! Our inclusive community isn’t here just for Pride - we’re here all year. It's not always easy being inclusive in town. The library, community organizations, and yes, even Walking Distance have been targets. In this post, we're going to discuss the attacks against the library and against us. Last June, the library had a pride book display [1]. On July 3rd, (now ex) city councilmember Deb Groat wrote an email to the library at the request of the Union Faith Family Coalition [2]. In this email, she wrote: “I am deeply offended by explicitly sexual material on display in the children’s section of our library. Shame on you and your staff for pandering to any social agenda in displaying reading material to children.” [3] Later on in the email she wrote: “The library may well want to pass a levy in the future, or have input in a community TIF.” [3] On November 27, 2023 - Deb Groat was joined by city councilmember Mark Reams in voting for a TIF that would divert money away from the library for 30 years. Luckily, the extension did not pass. [4] According to Union County Faith Family Coalition’s founder, Mark Reams is a member. [2] Deb Groat and Mark Reams vote together to divert money from the library. Let’s move on to us. In June 2023, we had a drag show. On July 8th, Mark Reams’ wife, Leslie Reams posted on Facebook calling Walking Distance “Little Epstein Island” [5] joining in the same rhetoric spread by the Union County Faith Family Coalition, who nicknamed us, “Walking Distance Grooming Co.” Additionally, on April 15th, 2024 - while on-shift at her job, Leslie Reams called us a “den of depravity bar [that] preys on children,” and called our bartenders and customers, “pedophiles” and “drunks.” Let’s be clear. Leslie Reams, the members of the Union County Faith Family Coalition, and their followers have never called law enforcement (to our knowledge) - something we would expect and want to happen if pedophilia was happening. Law enforcement has never been called, we suspect that even they know that it’s not true. We have heard many rumors, as bad as, “Walking Distance is full of pedophiles” to more innocuous rumors that hurt our reputation. Our guess is that the same people who don’t believe we’re pedophiles, but want to demonize queerness, also know their audience and are able to tone it back to do the damage they can. We saw sales dips directly following Leslie Reams’ statements. We have heard city council members echoing similar rumors. Last summer, we had around 10 citations against the owner’s house and the business from the city and council - none of these citations asked us to remedy anything (except for the one about mowing…oops), and in fact there were instances when the local officials said that we were doing everything right, but they are only reaching out to us because they had so many calls. The year prior, Walking Distance and the owner's house had 0 citations. We’ll never know exactly how much business we lost due to the slander against us. We do know, we lost a lot. Similarly, we’ll never know exactly how much the support of our community has meant. We do know, it meant a whole lot. The support has kept us afloat, and with time, it's made us thrive. We know that we have survived to see another June. And we are ready to celebrate it, in the face of the hate. There would be no pride with no hate. Looking forward to seeing you on Wednesday for drag BINGO; Saturday for drag brunch; and also visit us on Saturday during Marysville Pride. We have more Pride events this week and month, keep your eyes peeled! And even if it's not a pride related event, we are always inclusive. Oh, and there's a city council meeting next Monday, June 10th at 7PM.
[/text]
Here's some photos of the extremely offensive library display:
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They haven't given a call to action yet.
So anyways, that's what's happening in a nearby town. Marysville's pride event is this weekend and if you'd like to show up for local queers its going to be a very fun time.
I'm thinking of grabbing some of my local gays and giving them our patronage, of course. Its somewhat unrealistic to ask strangers on the internet to do take a hike all the way to Ohio for drag bingo.
So I think I would just like to call attention to it- if this is happening in our area, its probably happening in yours too. If you were thinking of attending a drag show but were on the fence about it, I think you should. They're a fun time.
Being involved in the queer community can be as simple as attending a drag show. Or going to a silly queer-focused event. Or supporting a queer-owned business. Every little bit of support for your queer community counts!
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itgirl-111 · 9 months
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THE BEST MONEY AFFIRMATIONS (aka facts)
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(this is gonna be the only money Affirmations you'll never need lol)
I am rich
I am financially stable
I'm secure in my financial state
Money is safe
Money is good
Money is here to stay
I'm a money magnet
I have the perfect money mindset
I have the perfect self concept on money
I love money and money loves me
Money is the easiest thing to make
I have multiple sources of income
I am wealthy
I genuinely believe I deserve a lot of money
I deserve a luxurious, comfort, fun filled, lifestyle
I am worthy and deserving of having lots of money because I exist
I get money everyday
I get paid to exist
I am worth every cent I get
I get money quickly and easily
People always have enough money to give me
People bend over backwards to make sure I'm getting paid enough
Nobody goes to sleep unless and untill they make sure I'm getting paid enough
Everyday I just make more and more money
Me and the people i love are rich af
My bank account never stops getting fatter
I am so rich i make Elon Musk look poor
I am so rich my hands are starting to smell like money
I wake up every day and go to sleep stress free knowing that I don't have to worry about money in my life
I am living wealthy and abundant life
I keep finding money everywhere
No matter where I go money always keeps chasing me like a lost puppy
If I were to count the amount of times I got a huge amount of money out of blue, I wouldn't be able to count it cuz it's too much
My fingers are starting to hurt because of the amount of times I counted my stacks and stacks worth of billions of cash ugh 😫
I have so much money in my bank account that the value of pi π looks small
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, 7 OUT OF 7 days I get money.
12 OUT OF 12 months I get money
there's not a single day that goes by without me getting money
Any amount of money i spend comes back to me tenfold
I walk into a shop knowing damn well I could buy the entire shop if I wanted to
I have so much money I can use it instead of a toilet paper (jk i don't do that)
I have so much money I can make origami out of it
I have so much money I'd buy the biggest companies and still remain rich as fuck like?
I am the definition of LOADED 💵
I am independent, successful, wealthy, rich, self sufficient, financially secure, debt free, stress free, yep I identify with those things.
My notifications are flooded with me receiving payments constantly
If anyone is a FATASS it is my wallet
Money is so desperate to stay in my life
Every where I go even to the damn toilet I still can never escape from lots of money😔
Money keeps flowing to me like a river
My bank account digits are the most groundbreaking, immense, tremendous, huge, back arching, toe curling, digits ever known to human kind😞
If i spent a whole day counting my stacks of cash, i wouldn't be able to cause that will take atleast a million years...oops...😳
Whether it's expected or unexpected, whether  I'm happy or sad, sleeping or awake, working or not, money comes to me all the time and In all the ways.
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soupandsimple · 9 months
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THIS MADE ME THINK OF DAD!REMUS 🥹 !!
* baby daughter stepping all over Remus’s head/face while he’s still sleeping in the morning
…………….
7:13 A.M is the time that reads on your night stand clock; it’s not an alarm that has woken you up, but the cry of your baby girl, Beatrice, in the nursery across the hall. Surprisingly her cry doesn’t wake Remus which is just as well because he deserves some extra rest on this Saturday morning.
Carefully and slowly you get out of bed and go across the hallway to see Bee (as you and Rem called her at times) and change her dirty diaper real quick before taking her back over to your bedroom so the three of you could all cozy up a bit together before breakfast time.
After bringing her in, you set her down at the center of the bed as you lounge down sideways beside her with the support of your elbow. You watch as she crawls to your pillow, climbs atop of it and with the aid of the headboard, pulls herself up to stand; it was actually something she had only recently discovered she could do.
“Oh my goodness, such a big girl now aren’t you,” you coo quietly. Bee babbles something in return then continues on with her hold on the headboard and unsteadily begins walking on the mushy pillows towards Remus’s sleeping form.
“Oop, don’t wake daddy. He’s sleeping..come back to mama,” you tell Bee, who obviously doesn’t quite understand your words and goes ahead and steps up on Remus‘s head to continue her path along the headboard.
“Beatrice,” you giggle quietly.
Bee momentarily turns back at you at the call of her name but then returns to her wobbly steps over the hump that was Remus’s head.
You would have pulled her off but see Remus sleepily smiling at the rough wake up call he was being given; also it was too cute to disrupt.
“You’re just like your mother,” his sleep laced voice hums as he turns to pull Beatrice down into a cuddle at his side. Luckily Bee is used to being picked up and moved around at random at this age still so she doesn’t even protest the pull down and just happily accepts it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say then, sitting up and crossing your arms.
“You know what it means love,” he says groggily, shutting his eyes again while Bee comfortably lays where he put her at his side, curiously eyeing the sole top button on his sleep shirt which she reaches to touch lightly with her tiny fingertips.
And yes, you did know what he meant by ‘you’re just like your mother’. He was referring to the way you’d smother his face with kisses some mornings while he still slept which in turn eventually woke him up.
“Okay, but you know you love it. Well maybe the kisses a little more than being stepped on but,” you laugh, tickling Bee’s little onesie covered foot. She kicks her foot with a giggle and smushes her face into Remus’s chest.
Remus peers down at his giggly baby and shakes his head, “No. I love them both,” he answers. “Best alarm clocks I’ve ever had,” he concludes with heart eyes to you then down at Bee. <3
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showtoonzfan · 1 year
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Now that the episode is out officially, here’s my rant review of Oops!
PROS:
- Fizz and Ozzie were adorable and I honestly love them. Despite the sex jokes, you can tell they love each other for who they are OUTSIDE of sex. While I did wish we would have seen more, (like how Ozzie took him in and fell in love) they’re still adorable to watch. They’re the better version of Stolitz, can the show be about them instead?
- Brandon’s voice acting holy shit, he really knows how to sound like he’s in tears or is broken. As much as I hate the character and feel no sympathy, he displayed genuine and broken emotion very well.
- Alex Brightman Alex Brightman
Okay that’s it. Moving on to the Cons. Bear with me, it’s a lot and I go back and forth a bit. 😭
CONS:
So for a quick short summary, this episode:
- Once again puts more focus on the filler plot rather than actually focusing on the relationships between the characters, so all we're left with is a 10 second clip of Fizz being burned while the rest of the episode is surrounded on sex jokes/petty bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around.
- Completely erases what made Blitz and Fizz's dynamic interesting in the first place because it retcons it with a dumb miscommunication trope about how Fizz actually wanted to see Blitz and Blitz tried reaching out to him. Not only does this feel like a cheap attempt to make Blitz out to be sweet/sympathetic and NOT the one in the wrong so Fizz can suck up to him, but this also makes no sense within the narrative.
- Has Fizz forgive Blitz despite him being the last person anyone would think would forgive him. (So honestly ruins Fizz himself because it turned him into a soft boy who's forgiving compared to the asshole he was in Ozzie's) All because Viv would sell her whole soul before she even remotely considers painting characters like Blitz and Stolas out to be the one's in the wrong.
- Takes Stolas out of the hospital completely, erasing all the drama/tension Western Energy had and proves that that episode was utterly pointless.
- Turns Striker from an interesting complex villain to a Saturday morning cartoon goon.
- Proves to us that Crimson is just a flat tool and gives us more prove that the world building rules Viv set up in season 1 legit don't matter.
-Ruins Blitz/Barbie's feud now because now you're making Barbie look like the one in the wrong since the fire was an accident. God forbid a female characters emotions in this show are justified.
But if you want my more in depth rants, it’s under the cut! (There’s a lot so bear with me lol)
- As usual WAAY too many sex jokes and swearing. It gets annoying and repetitive at times and some of them distract from the main plot. There’s a long and I mean LONNG dragged out joke of Fizz talking about Ozzie’s dick, then later saying he’s hard when Striker has a gun to his head, as well as Blitz making a joke about him and Fizz making out once they hug. Again, Viv can’t be serious for 2 seconds without an unfunny shitty gag. I genuinely wonder if Hazbin is ganna be like this, where a character is in a life threatening situation or a deep dark serious scene happens only for the next scene to be sex related.
- This is one of those “shit happens because the plot demands it” and it shows. Crimson and Striker COINCIDENTLY meet up with each other, and Fizz and Blitz just so HAPPEN to be in the same exact area they are. Viv wonders why we call her shit a fanfic and this is what we mean, when she creates wild wacky plots and focuses more on THAT rather than the actual character writing. This entire episode hinges on a useless poorly last minute planned kidnapping plot that didn’t need to happen. Also way to once again make the characters idiots so the plot can happen, cause Fizz KNOWS Ozzie worries for him and that the Greed Ring is dangerous, yet purposefully puts the spotlight on him.
- Stolas did NOT need to be in this episode. The plot completely ignores the fact that he was in the hospital the last time we saw him, and he’s only here for Stolitz banter. You’d think that a character admitting they have feelings for someone would be a big deal but he just flat out says it and it’s so underwhelming and feels half assed with no weight to it. Fan comics have made more dedication to this than Viv has. We're supposed to believe him too despite the show failing to actually SHOW us this. Same for Blitz ranting about how “nice” Stolas has been to him, laughing at his jokes and liking his posts…hey Viv, can we actually SEE that on screen so it’s more believable? Or are you only determined to show them sexually flirting? 😑
- Once again Viv felt the need to shove a B plot into this episode and this one sucks because it’s just two characters sitting and doing fucking nothing. It felt like Viv had no idea what to do with Stolas and Ozzie, and I refuse to believe that Ozzie just sat there knowing Fizz was in danger. If anything he would have said “fuck the paperwork” and went to save Fizz himself. Way to show that gif of Ozzie getting mad as a sneak peak to get fans excited, only to see that Ozzie spends the rest of the episode sitting in a dark room LMAO what a let down.
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- Ozzie is weirdly chill and cool with Stolas and it’s something I don’t get. While he did say that Stolas had the real “spirit of Lust” in S1E7, it still gave you the impression that he was also more poking fun at Stolas rather than respecting him. The whole point of House of Asmodeous was that Ozzie outs him and publicly embarrassed him. Stolas literally was intimidated just by Asmodeous’s mere name, and hid his face around him. It seemed like Stolas certainly didn’t want someone like Ozzie to know about his private life especially since they’re both part of the Ars Goetia. Now here Ozzie is just cool with him and it feels like a missed opportunity for their dynamic.
- Stolas confessing his feelings about Blitz also makes…no sense narrative wise. I thought the whole point of The Circus and the ending to Western Energy was that he was realizing that Blitz didn’t like him that way and was finally waking up. I thought that’s why he was doing this whole crystal deal in the first place, so he can let Blitz go, yet the show keeps flip flopping and insisting that these two love each other and are good for each other. It’s really making you realize how this season and the previous stuff set up is becoming nonsense because the writers retcon EVERY damn episode. Also….why the hell is Stolas telling Ozzie his feelings for Blitz? Out of all people, why is it Ozzie, the person who outed Stolas and embarrassed him. Why is Stolas even respectful of Ozzie? He has no reason to, and he’s not under the impression that he’s dating Fizz either. I get that he needs the crystal but mentioning his love for Blitz makes no sense.
- Striker and Crimson teaming up to kidnap Blitz and Fizz was such an ass puller last minute decision. It feels overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, more because it feels like Viv has no idea what to do with these two villain characters other than give them something evil to do to start the plot. Also…why…are they working together? It feels so random.
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- Striker’s character especially is all over the place. First he’s working for Stella, then he’s painted as the best assassin in hell, and now he’s…looking for more work I guess and working for Crimson? Why? Does this guy even have a motive anymore? It feels like his character is just dangling around until Viv wants to use him for another wattpad kidnap plot and it ESPECIALLY shows when Striker escapes for the THIRD fucking time. Can this character/storyline actually GO somewhere or are you just going to keep introducing him and have him run away. 🤦🏽‍♀️
— How did Crimson not know who Striker is despite him being labeled as “the most popular assassin in hell”, and how the hell does Crimson know Ozzie and know all the information about him being in a relationship with Fizz?? Oh right because we needed the plot to happen somehow. Still, even if Crimson did know that Ozzie was the "weakest" and loved Fizz, (which….what about Beezlebub?)) he still should have known he was playing with fire. I get that he's supposed to be evil and intimidating but how could he have predicted that Ozzie would actually stand down and fill out the paperwork? He could have immediately came there and killed Crimson for all he knew. It's just distracting how..not planned this shit was.
- Fuck this episode for calling Striker a supremacist. It makes no sense?? Viv is trying SO hard to villainize him despite him being the one in the right and it pisses me off. He has every right to be mad at the upper class, he’s part of the lower class that we’re said Hell takes advantage of, but god forbid we call out Rich and powerful Stolas because that would mean he’s a b-bad person and we can’t have that complex morality! This is so not a “eat the rich” story and it shows bc Vivzie is rich as hell. Striker as a character deserves so much better man. Congrats writers, you had an interesting character and motive set up for him, now he’s nothing but a silly goon that you might as well kill off already cause you clearly don’t care about him. Crimson meanwhile is just a piece of paper, a boring plot device I could give less of a shit about. I thought his motive was to go after Moxxie, now he’s just doing fuck whatever because this show desperately wants a bad guy for their filler fanfic plots.
- We get more world building issues, Ozzie and Fizz are so determined to hide their relationship for obvious reasons, but then at the end of the episode just say “fuck it, no one would dare tell anyway”. So now they’re being open about their relationship and lmao I told y’all the newspaper scene of Ozzie being called out for being a hypocrite wouldn’t go anywhere. Even if Ozzie did threaten his workers to not tell, they can’t be so sure that someone wouldn’t see or snitch, it’s kinda a retcon too cause they were pretty lovey dovey in Ozzie’s. Still, it makes the characters look dumb and it makes the rules Viv set up for Hell once again not mean anything.
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- We finally get to see Fizz’s backstory in action and it’s executed in the most underwhelming way possible. It’s literally a fucking 10 second clip of what went down, and rather than experiencing the event for ourselves, it’s in flashback mode but with Fizz’s voice talking over it. That’s it. I’ve seen fan comics/fanart that built this shit up better than Viv did, that actually took the slow time and dedication it needed, and here it feels like such an afterthought, like Viv could care less. Maybe if this actually was a character driven show like Viv claims, Stolas, Striker, and Crimson would be taken out of the picture and then that would leave us with PLENTY time to actually explore and develop Blitz/Fizz, bc most of this episode is just them pettily bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around. But nah, we gatta have our fanfic kidnapping plot. Same goes for the reveal of Blitzo’s mom dying in the same fire. Glad to know that she got the same treatment Moxxie’s mom did, where we don’t even know her and yet we’re supposed to feel moved and care about her death. You nailed that one Viv. 👍
- I predicted that this episode would victimize Blitz and have the fire incident be an accident, (because Viv is a pussy writer and can’t make her characters actually do bad things like god forbid) but I never thought they’d actually have the balls to have Fizz forgive Blitz immediately in the same episode and pull the “actually turns out that horrible thing you did to me helped me in a way”- trope. Biggest flaw of the episode, fuck you Viv. I was actually going to applaud Blitz for taking accountability, but then the dialogue reminds you that an abuser wrote this, and he shifts his apology to “okay but I lost something too see so it’s not all about you” as if he’s fucking dismissing Fizz’s trauma and making it about himself. “I love flawed characters” my fucking ass. I would have smacked a bitch if I was Fizz because Blitzo loosing his mother in the fire too isn’t an excuse?? Fizz lost his fucking ARMS AND LEGS, and at the end of the day Blitzo STILL KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS IN THE FIRE BUT LEFT HIM BEHIND. He could have gotten help and came back, but didn’t. If this were a good show Fizz would have threw that apology back in Blitzo’s face and said “I don’t care if it was an accident or not, you still left me there and then proceeded to loathe me for years”. This is why Helluva will never be Bojack cause at least characters in that show who got treated horribly by him knew when to say “no, fuck you.”
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- The episode retcons again, this time they make it out to be that Blitz TRIED contacting Fizz the years they were apart but no one would let him see him. Then they say that Fizz actually WANTED to see Blitz but assumed he didn’t want to, so their entire feud was solely because of miscommunication?? Number one, show don’t fucking tell omg. And number two, that makes ZERO sense. Blitz talked badly about Fizz in Loo Loo Land, and when they finally reunited in Ozzie’s, it was clear they fucking loathed each other. You got the impression that Blitz was petty and jealous just because Fizz was more popular, and Fizz not only loathed him for the accident, but liked to rub in his face about how much of a big shot he was. They literally do that in this episode too, so the episode is literally contradicting itself. Blitz and Fizz had multiple chances to meet up with each other, you can’t just say “oh they couldn’t because no one would let them”- So which is it? Did they hate each other because of bad blood, petty drama, or that they thought the other didn’t want to see them? Pick ONE Viv and stick to it, but she never does. Their feud was interesting and now you ruined it just to have some sweet happy ending. “Adult mature show” my ass lol.
-Bottom line is Fizz shouldn’t have forgave Blitz so easily, or forgave him period. I find it funny how he says “it’s hard to just forgive you” and then he literally does lol. I feel so bad for Fizz fans, him and Blitz’s feud was honestly interesting, so to see all of this go down in a half-assed piss poor way as if this was Care Bears is….wow. The fan interpretations had more thought and care put into this storyline but what else is new lol.
- I’m really tired of these shitty annoying songs. If you’re going to get Broadway actors, please put effort into your songwriting and actually have them sing something good, not something that’s literally nonsense. This Fizz song sounds like it took less than a minute to write and Sam Haft was just thinking of anything he could think of at the top of his head. Also Why the fuck are Striker and Crimson just STANDING there while Fizz sings. They look like idiots, just SHOOT them omg. If this were a funny show, Fizz would have started his first note and Crimson just rolls his eyes and pulls his gun out.
- Fizz and Ozzie kill the lawyer but not…Crimson? Despite Fizz knowing what ring he’s in and even Ozzie knowing what he looks like? Same for Blitz, he doesn’t try to make sure Striker is dead. I get that the plot demands for these two to still be around, but there’s a way to keep them alive without making the main characters look like fucking idiots. Also Stolas just leaves without doing or contributing anything to the plot yay.
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- Fizz: “Let him have it, you could say he’s earned it”— Uhm….Nope. Blitz did NOT earn shit. He didn’t even earn Fizz’s forgiveness. Last time I checked, the moment Blitz cried and said it was an accident, Fizz forgave him, knowing he didn’t mean it. What effort did Blitz do to “earn” that as well as the crystal? Because he saved Fizz and didn’t leave him behind for the SECOND time near the end?? Cause if so than the bar is extremely low. That’s the bare minimum, just because Blitz cried and felt bad about it doesn’t mean he should be let off the hook Viv. I hate this so much, what a shitty conclusion, it feels forced just so Blitz can have the crystal and just so the writers can once again paint him as the one in the right. It’s almost insulting that they make it seem like Fizz was in the wrong for assuming Blitz starting the fire too, same for Barbie.
God what a shitty day it is to be a Fizz fan, I’m sorry. The episode did NOT do him justice. Fizzarolli deserved better than that half assed gaslighting apology for someone who lost their arms and legs man, and I’m tired of the show letting every character suck up to Blitz and Stolas for their horrible treatment just because they feel bad. Not only that but the episode (as most recent HB episodes) was a huge time waster. Everyone was really hoping for an in depth walkthrough of his character/backstory but again, when he’s not with Ozzie, the rest/most of his screen time is dedicated to him being helpless and pointlessly arguing with Blitz, plus a long dragged out nonsense song that didn’t need to happen. It felt like SO much time was wasted when we could have used the runtime we have to dive deeper and see more, like….again it would have been nice to see Fizz’s life AFTER the accident and how he became well known as well as how he fell in love with Ozzie, but his backstory is briefly scratched upon in a single scene and that’s it, all because Viv wanted this filler plot and wanted to dedicate more time to THAT rather than actual character expansion/development, something we could have got had you took out Stolas and Ozzie’s B plot and Striker and Crimson.
Viv is so on her way to murder/ruin every character that isn’t Blitz and Stolas and I won’t be here to watch further. I’ll check out the Mammon music video thing but that’s it man, this show is going off the rails, Adding Fizz to the character adoption list!
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firewasabeast · 2 months
Note
prompt: buck finds out tommy was a pow
how'd this get so long? I truly do not know.
They were four months into their relationship when Tommy started clearing out half of his closet for Buck. Others might've thought they were moving too fast, but that didn't matter to them. Buck spent most of his free time at Tommy's place anyway, and his lease was up in a month. There was no way either of them wanted to wait another whole year before living together.
So, on a random Saturday, they decided to do it. Clear the closet so Buck could slowly start moving stuff in.
They had invited Eddie over too, possibly under the false pretense of sitting and watching a game, but they needed someone around that would keep them on task. Or, at least keep them from getting distracted with each other's mouths.
“Can someone please tell me how my life became so dull that this is the most exciting thing I've done this past week?” Eddie asked, seated on the bed and folding up a shirt before placing it into the donation box.
“You really wanna go there?” Buck asked.
“No, I do not.”
“Eddie, I've got an extra pair of boxing gloves in here!” Tommy called out from the back of the closet. “They're new. You want them?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I've got like three pairs already.”
He came out and tossed the gloves to Eddie, who looked them over briefly. “Thanks, man!”
“Of course.”
Buck headed back into the closet and reached up for an old cardboard box high on the top shelf. As he lifted it, an item fell out and down to the floor. “Oops,” he breathed out, moving the box to one hand as he bent down to pick the item up.
It was service medal. Buck stared at it for a moment, lets his thumb brush over it. He'd done a lot of research on anything and everything military related, but he could not for the life of him remember what this particular medal was for.
He walked out to the bedroom, where Tommy and Eddie were in the middle of discussing how the team who won karaoke trivia last week definitely cheated and should be investigated, and dropped the box onto the bed. “Not sure what all this is,” he said, the box catching Tommy's attention.
“Oh, that's just army stuff,” he replied, sliding the box toward himself and starting to close it back up.
“This fell out of it.” Buck handed over the medal, noting Tommy's pause before he plucked it from his hand. “What's it for?” He could feel Eddie's eyes on him, could sense a tension in the air, but he couldn't figure out why. Tommy had talked to him about his time in the military before, but he'd never mentioned a medal.
“It's a... a Prisoner of War Medal,” he replied, dropping it into the box. He closed the box and plopped it onto the floor directly between the keep and throw away piles.
“Oh. Is it your grandad's?” One day Buck would learn to read the room before speaking, but today was not that day.
“No. Um, no it's not.” Tommy was still turned away from him, his attention now focused on a pile of old CD's they'd already gone through earlier in the day.
Buck took that all too quiet moment to glance over at Eddie, who was shaking his head and silently telling Buck to let it go.
The dots connected, and Buck felt a pain in his chest he hadn't felt since he got struck by lightning. This might've been worse actually, because he didn't technically remember the feeling of being struck by lightning.
“Lunch!” He exclaimed, a bit too brightly, but desperate to move on so he didn't cause unwanted pain. “I should make lunch.”
Buck excused himself from the room and headed into the kitchen, pausing to take a few deep breaths and calm his pounding heart. He could hear the low rumblings of Tommy and Eddie talking in the bedroom, but made no effort to listen to what they were saying.
He knew it wasn't for him to hear anyway.
*****
Twenty-seven hours later, Buck and Eddie were starting a shift. Buck lasted all of half an hour before sitting down across from Eddie on the couch and staring at him as he read a magazine.
“Can I help you with something, Buck?” Eddie asked, keeping his eyes on the magazine.
“You knew about it, didn't you?”
“Knew about what?”
Buck reached over and grabbed the magazine, yanking it from Eddie's lap and tossing it onto the table.
“That could've given me a paper cut!” Eddie whined.
“Eddie, this is serious.”
Eddie sighed. “You know my rule Buck. I don't discuss Tommy's business with you, I don't discuss your business with him. It's how we all live in peace.”
“I'm not asking you to discuss it, I- I'm just asking if you knew.”
There's a pause. Eddie stared at Buck, Buck stared back. They might as well have been having a contest; whoever blinked first won.
Eddie was the one to give in, rolling his eyes at Buck's stubbornness. “Yes, I knew.”
Buck huffed out a humorless laugh. “Great. Great, you know my boyfriend better than I do.”
“Buck, come on-”
“No, it's true! I'm- I'm not being an ass, it's just true. He's never mentioned that to me before. I've asked him all about his military career and I thought he'd told me everything, but i- it turns out he gave me a censored version.”
“It's not like that, Buck,” Eddie replied. “Listen, it was not long after Christopher left, Tommy invited me over for some Muay Thai. I thought he was doing it as a favor, so I could get all my aggression out, but it seemed it was more for him that day. I asked what was up and I guess it was the anniversary of the day he was captured. Don't be mad at him for this, man.”
Buck's face went from concerned to puzzled. “I'm not mad. I- I'm worried. Listen, I'm glad he has you to talk to, and I know I don't... get it like you do, but I'd like to know he trusts me with the tough stuff too. I don't want to move in with a guy who thinks he has to hide part of his life from me.”
“That's not it, Buck. It was literally just a right place right time thing. You had plans with Maddie that day, and apparently it's not something he ever talks about to anyone outside of therapy. It has nothing to do with you.” Eddie spoke the final sentence pointedly, making sure Buck comprehended the words.
Buck nodded. He did understand, and he really wasn't mad.
He hated that Tommy had gone through something so awful. Hated that he'd been going through it alone for all these years, however long it had been.
The worry lingered though.
Because if Tommy didn't tell him this, was there a possibility he'd been telling him revised versions of everything in his life?
Did he really know him at all?
*****
Two days passed before they got to see each other again. Buck was already at Tommy's place, settled into the sofa and reading a book on Egyptology when Tommy got home.
“Hey, hun,” Tommy greeted with a smile. He bent down, one hand on the back of the couch to hold him up, the other hand on Buck's cheek as he leaned in for a kiss.
“Hi,” Buck replied with the soft grin he always got after one of Tommy's kisses. “How was work?”
“Surprisingly calm.”
“Not a bad thing.”
“Not at all,” Tommy agreed.
Buck returned his attention to his book as Tommy sat across from him. His eyes drifted toward the TV but he made no effort to reach for the remote and turn it on.
“Evan?”
“Hm?”
Tommy reached out and held onto the edge of Buck's book. “Can I?”
Buck eyed him, confused, but closed the book and let him take it. Once Tommy had set it on the coffee table, he returned his attention to his boyfriend.
He stared at him, mouth pursed, and each second that ticked by worried Buck a little more.
“Are you-”
“It was 2004,” Tommy started, “I was twenty, in Afghanistan. We were on a recon mission, our chopper got shot down.”
“Tommy, you don't have to...”
His voice trailed off as Tommy held out his hand for Buck to take. Tommy squeezed it, then continued, “It happened so fast, we didn't have much time to think let alone fight back. There were four of us. We all survived the crash somehow, but... anyway, I got shot in the thigh, and all the other guys were shot too. Weirdly, it's the only injury I've gotten that didn't leave a scar. We were blindfolded, had these sacks put over our heads, tied up, and thrown into the back of a truck.”
“My God.” The words slipped out without Buck even realizing. The thought of Tommy, not even old enough to legally drink, going through something like that was horrifying.
“I don't-” Tommy cleared his throat, and Buck could feel his hand starting to get clammy. “We were there for forty-three days. I didn't know that until we were rescued, had no idea when it was day and when it was night.” Tommy shifted, dropping Buck's hand so he could move around and try to get more comfortable. “Evan, I don't talk about it with anyone outside of therapy. Even my therapist doesn't know everything, and I- I just try not to dwell on it.”
Buck nodded. “I understand.”
“And I'm sure you know Eddie knows.”
“I figured it out,” Buck replied simply.
Tommy let out a deep breath, his eyes searching Buck like he was trying to read his mind. “Are you okay?” he asked. “I mean, I know I should have said something.”
“No,” Buck assured him. “No, that's- I'm not mad about it or anything. That's a horrible thing you went through and I completely understand not wanting to get into it.”
Tommy eyed him carefully. "Evan."
Buck let out a groan. “This is gonna sound really stupid.”
“If there's one thing you're not, Evan, it's stupid.”
“I- I'm endlessly grateful you have someone like Eddie you can talk to,” Buck started. “Seriously, I get that you need someone who can understand. Eddie was in the army, he gets it in a way I never will.”
“But?”
Buck pointed at Tommy. “See, this is the stupid part. I did feel jealous, at first. That he knew a part of you that I didn't. And it made me worry that there might be other things I don't know, or pieces of you that you kept hidden from me to protect me, or something?”
“Ev-”
“No, I know that's not true. I had like fifty conversations with myself to get there, but I got there,” he added with a laugh.
“Did he tell you why I told him? Or what I told him?”
“He briefly mentioned a Muay Thai session when I went to him with questions. He's apparently very strict on not being a go-between for us, which is healthy I guess. It wasn't his place to tell me anyway.”
“Right.”
Buck moved closer to Tommy. “I'm not saying it was yours either, Tommy.”
A deep breath, then Tommy continued. “That day- the anniversary, or whatever- is not a great day for me. Usually I work, it keeps me distracted, but I was off and shockingly no one needed me to take their shift. You had made plans with Maddie, and I was... struggling. I invited Eddie over for a sparring session and I got a little, um, intense with it?”
Buck raised an eyebrow in question.
“There was blood.”
“Seriously?!”
Tommy nodded. “Not much. Cut the lip a bit, but he knew something was up and it came out. I didn't even tell him as much as I just told you. All I said was it was it had been twenty years since I'd been shot and captured. He asked how long I was a prisoner for and I told him. That's it. Then he put down the ice pack I'd given him and we went another round.”
Buck truly was endlessly thankful that Tommy and Eddie had each other. “He's a good friend to have.”
“Yeah, he is. Ev, you know things about me, my life, my family, that I've never shared with anyone before. I have never felt so comfortable with anyone; never was able to let my guard down until you. That- This thing, is something I'm still trying to share with myself. It's been twenty years, but I'm working on it.”
Buck nodded. “Take all the time you need. If you ever do need or want to talk about it though, I'm here. Or Eddie, or Bobby, or literally anyone.”
Tugging on Buck's arm to pull him closer, Tommy turned on the couch, resting so his legs were outstretched, parted just enough for Buck to fit between. He was more thankful every day for the extra wide sofa they'd bought so they could cuddle comfortably on it.
Buck curled into him, head resting on Tommy's chest, arms wrapped around his waist.
“I love you,” he muttered into the fabric of Tommy's shirt.
Tommy planted a kiss on top of Buck's head, running his fingers through his hair. “I love you more.”
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steddielations · 11 months
Text
Flight of Icarus lore dump part 2:
Part 1 | Character List
- Wayne has a green thumb. He reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine. It doesn’t say what he grows, but it says he buys vegetables from the store so I’m going to say that gruff old man Wayne has the prettiest petunias in the whole trailer park.
- Eddie sneaks into the Hawk with his best friend Ronnie to watch action movies and thinks Snake Plissken, Han Solo and Conan the Barbarian are cool.
- Eddie talks for hours about the intricacies of Elven politics in Tolkien.
- Eddie read comics as a kid and hid them all over the house "like a little squirrel" under the bed, behind the nightstand, under the rug. Wayne found his Uncanny X-Men in the freezer between stacks of tv dinners. Also, "Hellfire Club" comes from these X-Men comics.
- Floor time! There's a part where Eddie is literally just lying on his back on his bedroom floor counting down from a million. When Wayne comes home, Eddie army crawls on his belly to the doorway to see him.
- Eddie reads Gormenghast paperbacks, gothic fantasy novels. It mentions that Wayne saved them from the house fire along with Eddie’s guitar. It never says how/when Eddie originally got his guitar.
- Eddie says lots of cc’s original songs have D&D references. It's implied that he writes them. One is called “Fire Shroud” after a spell
- Eddie is called Freak King at school and Munson Junior or just Junior around town and he hates all of it
- Eddie talks about having anxiety a lot and it's implied he has had panic attacks in the past
- Eddie is the lead singer and guitarist of cc. He started the band with Ronnie specifically because it was required to participate in the school talent show.
- Neither Wayne or Al graduated high school. When Eddie (temporarily) drops out, Al celebrates.
- Eddie doesn't cook. He doesn't even own a spatula. The smell of cooking in their house actually shocks him and gives him a deep longing for family meals, which Al uses to manipulate him
- Eddie jokes about being into Saturday Night Fever and strikes the pose a couple times.
- Eddie knows how to hotwire and how to pick locks. Al taught him this at the age of ten. Eddie is "disgusted" with himself any time he does either of those things.
- Eddie "drives like a monster" when he's upset about something.
- Eddie smokes cigarettes occasionally. Weed is mentioned a lot in the book but it never says anything about Eddie smoking it or doing any drugs. He either doesn't smoke much or he hasn't tried anything yet in the book. Also, he’s just now meeting Rick. But It’s pretty clear after everything he went through why he would start
- There's lots of mentions of PBR and Bud Light. Though Eddie says he doesn't like to drink after his shifts at the Hideout (where he's a barback). He mostly drinks off-brand Big Buy soda in the book (he calls it "pop")
- Eddie's parents were married on March 12th, 1966. The date is inscribed on the bottle of their wedding wine. Eddie asks what kind it is and Al says they only had 'red or white' kind of money
- Al breaks out the wedding wine (to manipulate Eddie, you guessed it) it's red wine and Eddie really, really likes it
- Eddie went to War Zone with his dad for supplies for the truck heist (spike strips, coveralls, etc)
- Eddie's band played Exciter by Judas Priest at the talent show. The song was only approved because they emphasized the "priest"
- There was another (?) talent show in Winter of 1981 where Eddie's band played "Prowler" and they were kicked off stage halfway through because the song was considered Satanic, and the PTA visited all their parents for trying to convert everyone to Satanism.
- Eddie imagines hitting his dad twice. Once with a glass bottle and once with a metal wrench. (He should've- oops who said that)
- The only hug Eddie gets in the book is when his dad first comes back, Eddie knows it's the first step in his cycle of showing up, using Eddie and leaving, but Eddie still accepts the hug and feels guilty for enjoying it.
- It's implied Eddie gets close to tears a couple times in the book, but the only time they actually spring up is when his mom's favorite song (from Muddy Waters) comes on in the truck radio while Eddie is doing the heist with his dad and feeling awful about it. Eddie has several flashbacks of dancing with her to this song, it seems like his happiest memory that he always returns to.
- Whenever Eddie is doing what his dad wants (hotwiring, charming a person into their plans) he puts on what he calls his "best Al Munson smile" and he's terrified that it will eventually take over his whole face. There's a part at the end where Eddie is sitting in a jail cell and says "All I want to do is tear my face off. If a new one grows in it's place, maybe it'll make me a different person. Someone who isn't such a complete fuckup."
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whousestypewriters · 4 months
Text
photos of you - grayson hawthorne x reader
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pairing: grayson hawthorne x fem!reader
warnings: swearing [like one word] kissing + flufffffff
a/n: so grayson my pookie wookie is getting a fic hehe! should i write a synopsis at the begining of each fic? idk im too lazy to do it rn lol -also its kinda short so sorry
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"grayson!" you shriek when you enter his bedroom.
its plain and simple - like grayson - except nothing like grayson because anyone who's met him knows that grayson hawthorne isn't plain or simple.
he's smart, cunning, always sharply dressed - and man does he look good in a suit. like seriously he's so toned and muscly - which you may or may not know after having snuck out to watch him swim once... or twice... okay you do it all the time - he's like a freaking greek god in the form of a human-
sorry what?
got off track there. oops.
anywayyyy
you storm into grayson's room absolutely livid, pacing back and forth in front of a slightly amused grayson.
"like seriously she was such a bitch!" you say swinging around to face him again. "she actually called me the sloppy immature freak. can you believe it? like seriously that girl wouldn't know hard work if it gave her a high five... in the face... with a chair!"
you spin around again resuming your pacing continuing on before he can say anything.
"and to come at me during work-" your eyes catch onto grayson's open computer. "hey, what's that?"
all but forgetting your rant about the bitchy co-worker of yours, you move over to grayson's desk and plop down into his chair, focusing on the laptop in front of you.
"are these from our date last saturday?" you ask when you feel his presence at your back.
"yeah, i took a few and then had the flower stall vendor take some as well," his rich voice reaches down to your ears.
you flick through the photos your heart melting with each one he took. most are photos of you not paying attention to him and looking around happily at the park you were at. pure happiness shines in your eyes and you lean back into grayson silently thanking him and complimenting him on his work.
"its all you," he whispers as if he read your mind.
you instantly pause when you reach a photo of you both. you're looking at the camera smiling at the kind vendor but grayson. grayson.
he's looking at you like you're his entire world. like he'd willingly give up everything just to see you happy. the pure love, adoration and devotion in his eyes almost brings you to tears.
god you loved him.
"i like this one," you squeak out, still
"why's that?"
"because you can see how much you love me," you smile getting up out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his neck. "you look at me like i'm your world, gray."
"you are," he whispers wrapping his arms around your waist, smiling softly. you love how he lets this, softer, calmer, less rigid side of himself be shown with you. grayson is all sharp edges and cutting looks to the outside world, so it always seems to warm your heart that you get to be apart of this piece of him.
"i love you," you smile sweetly up at him and press a soft kiss to his lips. "so much."
"i love you," grayson says quietly. "more than you know."
later on when you've left, grayson makes quick work of emailing the photos off to a printing store, wanting you to have copies as soon as possible and making his favourite photo - the one of you grinning at the camera, or more like the person behind the camera, him - his lockscreen.
he'll never admit it to anyone else but he has always had a photo of you as his lockscreen, always, even from the early stages of your relationship. he had felt like he was keeping a small piece of you with him, a small piece of your happiness that seeps into his cold harsh behaviour when he's working.
so its a habit to save those pictures to the album he has on his phone and computer. its a habit to have the photos printed out and sent to your flat along with a bouquet of flowers.
its a habit to be grinning for hours in his room after you left.
its a habit to go scrolling through the albums and albums of photos he has of you. because honestly? out of all the places grayson has been, all the different photos and emotions he's caught on camera, out of all them,
photos of you are his favourite.
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[taglist] @nqds, @nuncscioquidsitamor-14, @lxvebelle, @reminiscentreader, @ [if you wanted to be added or removed lemme know!]
a/n pt2: lol i think it kinda deteriorated at the end there.
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