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b14augrana · 1 day

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'Scrubber'

Your first time versing Lyon was the match of your dreams

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 1 masterlist

Warnings: lots of happiness and not proofread as per usual … 😁

A/N: i forgot to mention that mapi's knee is 100% functioning and not crippled in this series!!!! i’ve decided to turn it into a series because i love our hay day obsessed reader so much.

also, reader takes alexia’s place in scoring a golazo because our wonderkid needs her time to shine and what better time to shine than in a uwcl final 🪄🪄 (peep my reference in the fic to the gif im so smart)

we need a nickname for little miss wonderkid so i dont constantly refer to her as reader so plz suggest some in my asks 🥹

You were way too nervous for the final to function. You regretted eating breakfast that morning because it felt like you were about to throw it all up.

Honestly, you were even nervous to look at the players. You stood timidly between Lucy and Irene in the line, secretly hoping you never had to leave the tunnel. You did not want the likes of Ada Hegerberg charging towards little 16-year-old you.

You glanced down at the ‘NV15’ written on your wrist in black. That forever-present question of 'What would Vidić do?' loomed in your mind.

He wouldn’t be worrying about anyone on the opposition. He’d just be worried about breaking the Brexit tackle world record and keeping everyone in white as far away from the goal as possible.

The officials at the end of the tunnel signalled to both teams, which meant it was time. As you emerged out of the tunnel, walking out to the sound of a stadium full of culers, you didn’t feel scared. The cheers from all around the stadium deafened you, but also made you feel an insane amount of pride.

As you stood beside your teammates, the Barcelona anthem blasted on the speakers and the crowd became a choir as they sung the anthem loud and proud. Your attention was in the stands, looking at all the people that had come to watch. You almost teared up when you spotted a little girl and her older brother wearing a jersey with your name on it. Your name. Just having a mascot blew you away, so seeing people you probably weren’t much older than, wearing jerseys with your name on the back, was a crazy concept.

It made you think about the future. It made you hope that one day, you’d grow up to be some little girl’s idol the way Vidić is yours.

“Get ready to shake hands, (Y/N),” Irene reminded you, noticing that you looked a bit spaced out. You brought yourself back to the present and nodded, sticking your hand out to shake the long line of Lyon hands.

When Alexia asked you to bend down and hold the match day pennant, it almost felt like blasphemy. Your mouth was slightly agape as she thrusted it into your hand. “But why me?”

“My knee is no good, it’s better if I stand,” she explained.

“But why m–”

“Just hold it, nena!” Alexia laughed, getting back in the line. You crouched down, holding the pennant in one hand and bracing the ground with the other as you smiled gingerly for the camera.

As soon as the photographer lowered his camera, you sprung to your feet and gave the pennant back to Alexia. “There you go, capi!” you said happily, motioning to Renard who was approaching with their own pennant to exchange. Alexia laughed and patted you on the back, mumbling a quick ‘gracías’ before turning away.

You walked over to the bench and shrugged your jacket off, folding it neatly for one of the team management to take to the locker room later on. With one last meaningful glance at your wrist, you ran onto the field to take your position. Irene was with you in the center and Lucy covered the right while Ona took care of the left. Jona had told you to be prepared for Mapi to come on, so you kept that in mind too.

As soon as the whistle was blown, you were relieved to see that Aitana, Mariona, Caro and Salma had already gotten things under control. That gave you time to scope out the Lyon front three and think about how to handle them.

You thought about what Lucy said. ‘Don’t get hurt trying to do extreme tackles.’

At the end of the day, it all came down to instinct. When Dumornay started running at you with the ball, her feet moving too quick for you to focus on, you knew what you were going to do next had to be purely instinctual. This wasn’t the match for calculated tackles.

It was a fearless tackle. It wasn’t even much of a tackle, actually; you had just gotten to the ground right in her path and made contact with the ball first before she even touched you. When she did touch you, the top of her boot got caught on your abdomen, knocking her over. It was the consequence of her own speed and momentum.

With the ball at your feet, you did what you always did best — kick it as hard as you could and hope it goes well. You must’ve hoped extremely hard or hoped to the right deity, because the ball landed right at Aitana’s feet. Not an inch in front.

With one touch, she had beaten her marker. When Aitana got the ball, it was almost always a goal, and this time was no different; before you could even register that your ball had been kept in play, let alone found a player of your own, it had beaten Endler’s desperate hands and hit the back of the net. The stadium has the loudest atmosphere you’ve ever experienced after Aitana’s goal.

She came running to you, her arms outstretched. You threw yourself into her, hugging her tightly. The rest of the team came shortly after, suffocating you two in a big team hug. You heard some muffled voices praising you and Aitana, but you were too stunned by how quickly it all happened to even register their words. There were many pats on your back and side hugs before the game reset and you were back to your centerback position, kissing the writing on your wrist.

“Aparejo increíble (Y/N), and the pass! Magnífico!” Irene said, pulling you close and ruffling your hair (to which you huffed and slicked it back down) before running back to her position.

You didn’t actually intend to make that pass, so was it that special? Aitana did score from it, but she just has magical feet.

The match had flown by, both teams only separated by one goal at the 90th minute. Lyon were desperate for a goal. Barcelona were desperate for another. Many changes had been made, including Mapi and Pina coming on.

You watched as Diani came down the left wing and somehow managed to beat Lucy and Mapi, which meant you were going to have to try tidy up at the back and not let Diani get to Cata, the last hope.

At first, you just jockeyed. You held her off and tried to delay her, which worked; her stepovers were useless and she couldn’t get past you by tapping and running… but then she did.

She took a touch just wide of you, giving herself heaps of space to dribble up to goal if she was quick enough to retrieve the ball. The big underlying issue was, your jockeying had led you two up to the box. You could either get a card and risk her scoring from a penalty or worse — not do anything and let her put it in. You would rather break your Hay Day login streak than let that happen.

As she lurched forwards to get another touch on the ball, it was like everything was in slow motion. Time slowed down as you extended your leg and thrusted your entire body forwards, cushioning your fall by sliding on your arm across the damp grass and towards the ball. You closed your eyes as she got closer to your face, hoping that if you didn’t see it happen, the collision wouldn’t hurt as much. If this tackle went wrong, it would be over for you, for Barça.

Diani’s opening had been a gift from God himself, so you prepared yourself to see her celebrating happily, the ball rolling into the net when you opened your eyes, but when you finally did open them, the ball wasn’t in the net. Diani wasn’t celebrating.

She was lying on her chest, scrambling to get to her feet. The ball was out, discarded somewhere near the barriers as a ball boy passed a new one to Lucy to throw in. Cheers had rung through the stadium upon your last-ditch tackle, but you had been too distracted to pay attention to them. You had been too focused on trying to execute the perfect tackle that would either make or break the game.

The only thing you guys needed was another goal to really seal the deal. Lyon were getting dangerously close, you needed a goal.

When Lucy had played the ball in, you moved a bit further up the field, watching the play. You noticed Caro receiving the ball, and then you noticed the absence in the middle of the box. You scanned for Aitana or Pina or anybody, but they were all marked by figures like Renard and Carpenter or in other words, brick walls that were not letting them in any time soon.

It was all, pure, instinct. You ran– no, sprinted up the field, flailing your hands in the air. “Caro, Caro!” you screamed, motioning to the middle of the box, begging for a cross.

The cross she delivered from the right wing was set to land just in front of you. You couldn’t reach it for a volley and you sure as hell couldn’t bicycle kick it in. It was travelling fast and getting nearer by the second, but that was the advantage.

Without a second thought, you jumped up. Your body was basically horizontal in the air as you flew forwards, forehead connecting with the ball. It was a shame you couldn’t watch it shoot past Endler, burying itself right in the bottom left corner. You flew into the net as well, and the only way you realised you had scored was when you sat up and looked to your side to see the ball. That’s also the only way you realised you were in the goal.

You had never stood up faster or yelled louder. You zipped past Endler and ran down the field towards the nearest camera. Your first goal of your career couldn’t have been more perfect, so you needed a celebration to match.

Aitana appeared by your side, and as you two ran side-by-side, you pointed to the people in the stands. It was a simple but meaningful celebration; it was the same celebration Vidić had once done, and you remembered it vividly. In fact, it was one of your favourite moments.

You ran to the corner flag where the rest of your team were, and you all fell into another affectionate huddle. Lucy squeezed your side. “You’re in the wrong sport, I think you’d do well as a professional diver!” she jeered, having to yell her words over the noise. You grinned at her and hugged the woman tightly right before being instructed to reset.

The ball had barely started moving again before the referee blew the final whistle. Everyone from the sidelines jumped from their seats and ran onto the field, and the people on the field ram towards your goal. Cata booted the ball into the air and jumped on top of the big hug, and then Pina followed. There was singing and dancing and flags being thrown and tears and hugs for days.

It was happy moment upon happy moment for everyone as it all sunk in — you had finally, finally beat Olympique Lyonnais in a Champions League final for the first time in your history. You had helped beat Lyon and make history with this team, and you had won your first ever Champions League and quadruple, but you had to give credit where it was due.

You knew if you never had a role model like Nemanja Vidić, nothing would’ve happened the way it did for you against Lyon.

Being a 16-year-old girl with such a fiery passion to defend and hold it down at the back wasn’t easy. There wasn’t many defenders that played for the badge the way Vidić did. The reason you loved him so much was because he exerted such an immense sense of pride and dedication to his club, and that was the type of defender you wanted to be.

That was the type of defender you had been today.

You couldn’t believe Keira and Patri when they ran up to you saying that the officials wanted to see you so you could receive the Player of the Match award once again. Your jaw was dropped and you went red as they basically dragged you away from the locker rooms and towards the officials. Your cheeks were still red from embarrassment as you took the photo.

You learned that you couldn’t just slink away into the locker rooms after such a big match, so you spent a solid 10 minutes talking to fans all around the stadium. It was a bit awkward for you at first because most of them were either as old as Alexia or literally your age, but you figured you’d have to get used to it.

The best part about the whole day was, when you eventually got back to the locker room and picked your phone up, you had reached level 300 on Hay Day.

As if one major achievement wasn’t enough.

#fc barcelona #fc barcelona femeni #fcb femení #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics #barca x reader #futfem #football #nemanja vidić #manchester united #uwcl 23/24 #uwcl #uwcl final

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lefthandarm-man · 15 hours

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Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff The Avengers (2012)

matching each others freak

#marveledit #dailymarvelgifs #steverogersedit #blackwidowedit #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #black widow #captain america #the avengers #my gifs #another one baby #this came along a lot easier and faster #helps that it was all one scene so i could do basically the same coloring and stuff #anyways i love this scene it makes me fucking crazy #i love these two im so sad about what happened to them individually but also as a duo #they barely know each other at this point in the avengers but steve totally goes with her completely bonkers idea to hitch a ride on one #of the aliens?? like shes out of her mind #shes not enhanced or anything either the way steve is like yeah shes a badass and very capable but shes also very much human #but he doesnt argue with her at all he sees her throughline and is like well she wouldnt suggest it if she couldnt pull it off #and his like.... awestruck look as she zooms away...... i know he thinks shes so cool #i just love them i love nat and steve as friends i love their dynamic #i dont ship them romantically but like. i do get it

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tremendum · 10 hours

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Mr. Miller's Injury ; Mr. Miller viii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 7.8k summary: ❝"you aren't doing anything, Mr. Miller," you tilt your head, bending to fit level with his face. "if you recall, you're too injured to even leave the bed."❞ warnings: storm vibes, fairly tame compared to other parts, being stood up, dom!reader, sub!joel (FINALLYYYY), brief slapping, injured!Joel, anger, spitting, brief edging, choking, PiV unprotected, this is porn with no plot, masturbation, slight voyeurism, begging, degradation, age gap kink if you squint, calling joel 'old man', v brief praise kink, lots of pet names SORRY notes: thank u all for ur patience, it's been SO LONG. I am sorry this isn't the longest update but i hope you still enjoy! switching things up a bit bc they're learning to Talk about their Feelings <3 finally <3 there will be another update v v soon as well!!! hope you all enjoy. [previous. this is part eight of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - i no longer use a taglist. I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★

to say you're pissed is an understatement.

forty-five minutes, you huff as you stare at the ground, forty-five minutes standing alone, looking like a fool in this fucking dress.

the rain sloshes down on you, sending muddy streams down the sidewalk and under your boots to kiss the streetwater. it's been raining for days - ever since that black out the other night, it's barely let up; you're getting permanently used to your hair heavy from the drops. you glare sharply down at yourself, watching as sheets of water slap against your soaked corduroy jacket - the vibrant thread that sewed it together again all those weeks ago wilted by the water. you pull your jacket tighter over yourself, as if that could help at all.

you shouldn't fucking be out here right now, getting soaked to the bone.

sighing harshly, you squint up the street to your own house, lights off and waiting sadly; when you'd left, you'd expected not to return until the morning, anyways.

but here you are, an hour later, dateless and more furious than you've been in ages.

you feel like a fucking idiot.

serves you right for trusting that Joel would bother to put on a nice button-up and walk down to the bar to see you.

you try not to glare against the rain when you pass his house; the lights are glowing from the upstairs window, and your blood boils - he's probably in there sitting around doing nothing because he's too terrified to be a man and face you in person. the bitter taste in your mouth only grows at your brief concern - you didn't see him yesterday at all, but you'd just assumed he was on patrol.

you're about fifteen steps away from your your front door, already planning on downing a whole bottle of liquor in your bathtub by the time you hear it.

someone shouting your name.

turning your neck, you spot Ellie, waving her arm from only twenty feet away; the onslaught of drops has quickened, and you can't hear what she's saying. gritting your teeth, you trudge over to her, trying to hide your exasperation, "what's going on?"

"been looking for you!" is what she shouts as you walk towards her, shouting through the rain. "-just asking where you've been lookin' like that." she gestures to your dress, one definitely meant to wear at backyard barbecues and not in the middle of torrential downpours. she pulls you by the wrist onto their porch; the lights flicker slightly and it's just barely less dry - you ignore the wall behind you, thinking back to all those months ago when Joel'd had his cock shoved down your throat with your head pressed up against it.

you blink away the memory, anger simmering in your stomach; you ignore the heat in your abdomen.

"I had plans." you grunt, crossing your arms. her brows raise doubtfully; so full of sass for a teen. "you seen Joel lately?" you ask, hoping to sound nonchalant; she must pick up on the anger that flows from you; frowning, she jerks her head, "seen him? that's why I was lookin' for you. I've been babying him all day."

you stare at her, lifting a brow. "babying?" you parrot.

she frowns, tilting her head; the water sprays in a mist onto you, out of the direct exposure but still splattering fat sheets of rain onto your ankles. "didn't Tommy tell you?" she asks, but you're nearly out of patience.

you sigh sharply, "no, I haven't seen Tommy. been busy all day at the gardens dealin' with this shit."

this shit has been stressing you out beyond belief - a near monsoon in fucking Wyoming, drowning the crops you very desperately need for the commune. root rot is one thing, but losing all the food you'll need for months is something else.

"well, neither have I, but if you see him, tell him I could use a hand with his brother." Ellie sasses, arms crossing. for a moment, you nearly laugh - she's standing like Joel, a look of defiance in her eyes. she huffs, "I've been trying to keep Joel in bed, but you know how stubborn he can be. he got injured on patrol yesterday."

a flicker of concern betrays the anger in your heart. you blink at Ellie. "injured? he's injured?"

she glances towards the door then back at you, her own shirt pelted with rainwater. "he dislocated his shoulder. it's pretty bad."

you let out an exasperated sigh; that's where he's been? fucking injured and didn't bother to tell you? you purse your lips, feigning calm as you actively fight off the sense of embarrassment at your own irritation. "I can help you, don't worry." you promise, wishing you'd had a chance to change out of the dress. "if you want a break, I'll make sure he doesn't kill himself for a while." even if you wish he would.

she smiles, nodding as she turns on her heels, "thank you - you know how he is. didn't even mention he was hurt 'til I found him trying to hide it. been trying to tough it out, I guess."

you follow her into the house, gritting your teeth as you wring water out of your hair. "unbelievable," you mutter under your breath.

Joel is lying in his bed.

You resist the arousal that climbs at the vision of him outstretched in bed, propped perfectly on a pillow, hair grown out and curling; instead seething with irritation at him.

"what the hell is this, Miller?" you say in lieu of a greeting, crossing your arms the second he makes eye contact with you. he's surprised to see you, but not as surprised as you'd hoped.

he looks as terse as ever, eyes darting from you to Ellie, who lingers in the doorway. he grunts, shifting slightly and wincing. "hurt m'self."

you resist a laugh of disbelief, smiling sarcastically, "I can see that."

he is too fucking stubborn - you're too fucking stubborn, too; there's a beat, then you give in, "you couldn't have sent someone to tell me not to show up? I looked like a complete dick down there by myself." you snap, wounded. he rolls his eyes, "well I sent her to ya, didn't I?" he snaps, gesturing to Ellie with his good hand. she shakes her head, throwing her hands up, "I don't want any part in...whatever this is."

she disappears after muttering something about finally getting some peace and quiet - it's silent until you hear her bedroom door slam, the rain pelting down against the windowpanes.

unable to hide any longer in the quiet, you cross your arms. he sighs. "look..." he mutters, wincing as he sits up slightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't find ya. y'don't deserve t'be sittin' alone by yourself like that."

you clench your jaw, nodding, "you're right, Joel. I'm sorry you're hurt, I understand, it's just-" your doubts creep back in and you shake your head. "I don't know what I thought." you chicken out, looking away.

you hear his breathing; it seems to move with your chest - a patient, quiet breath that waits for your anger to subside.

"this ain't 2003, sweetheart," he finally says, but there's a warmness in his voice; it is wholly familiar and foreign at the same time. "can't jus' text you to let y'know I fell and dislocated my shoulder." he sighs gruffy; you huff, walking closer to the bed. "yeah, that and if it was 2003, I'd still be learning to ride a bike."

his eyes are sharp on you - a reminder of that unspoken thing, that tension that lives between you and him, pushes you further "don't." he says lowly, eyeing you stormily as the rain forges on outside. "don't remind me of why I shouldn't be doin' this."

the hesitation that always lingers between you sneaks up like mist through a forest; you push at it, wading through until you're next to where he reposes in bed. you can't resist the smirk that plays at your lips. "you aren't doing anything, Mr. Miller," you tilt your head, bending to fit level with his face. "if you recall, you're too injured to even leave the bed."

he hums, eyes stirring with that playfulness that you never quite expect; he tilts his chin up and it's all you can do to not kiss the lips that part beneath you. "c'mere an' make me feel better then, would'ya?"

you lift a brow, letting your lips brush just over his cupid's bow, imbued with the thick hairs of his mustache. you shake your head gently; he thinks everything's fine after a measly sorry?

"really?" you whisper against his lips, "you expect me to come play nurse and give myself to you just like that?" you tut. a swirl of desire in your gut when his good hand slides up the back of your thigh, squeezing the round of your ass.

you hope he cannot see the goosebumps up your thighs at his touch.

"y'didn't even play nurse." he argues, tilting his head up at you. you cross your arms, unimpressed; he sighs sharply. "sweetheart, 'm sorry." he offers again. you roll your eyes, "whatever, Joel." you whisper, leaning close to him; the way he looks up at you is saccharine; revenge must be the only thing sweeter. an idea creeps into your mind; a taste of his own medicine.

you let your lips brush his, but then pull back slightly. "if I can wait for you, you can wait for me." you say, pressing a chaste kiss to Joel's lips. his eyes are no longer clouded in that warm brightness; no, he is cloudy with irritation. you bite back a grin as you pull away from him, eyeing the chair next to the bed. "the fuck's that mean?" he grunts, eyes hawkish as they travel with you, lowering until you're comfortable in the chair. you let his gaze travel the expanse of your legs; the dress you chose to wear to your date is soaked - it sticks to your thighs and reveals more than you'd expect - you don't shy away, though. when it's Joel, you can never shy away.

"what are you doin'?" he questions again, voice deep with growing interest.

you smirk sultrily, tilting your head as you hum, propping your foot just next to his leg, on display for his gaze.

you spread your legs gently, letting your hands explore the planes of the body you know so well; over your chest, you flick wet strands of hair away from your slick skin before skimming over your curves. a flicker of lightning in the window and Joel's eyes are darker than before; you hum, "I'm keeping you company, Joel." you simper, letting the strap of the dress slip slowly off your shoulder on one side, your hand traveling down your chest and imagining his own rough, calloused ones. "unless you'd prefer I leave?" you ask with a small pout.

"I'd prefer if you stop bein' a brat and get the fuck over here." he snaps; patience worn thin, you just smirk, knowing he's enjoying the display of your body for him in the dark room.

you slowly lift the hem of your skirt up, over your hips; his eyes hungrily devour the lace you wore - a treat for him at the end of your date, you'd thought - now teasing.

you make a show of slipping a hand into your underwear, gasping gently as your fingers slide through your folds. you flush at the arousal that has gathered there - there might be something to say about how turned on you get when you're pissed at Joel - yet you let yourself relax, gently moaning as you rub your sensitive clit with one finger.

Joel sits up, his eyes dark and lip caught between his teeth as he watches you; he winces slightly, but ignores the pain, “let me.” he says, trying to sound authoritative. you just smirk, shaking your head. “no.”

Joel ought to learn to be patient.

so you resume, your finger gently sliding inside you; it’s nowhere near how it feels when Joel touches you, but you'd never dare admit such secrets out loud. instead, you add another finger; curling them, you let out a moan, biting your lip only when you remember there is another person in the house. thankfully, the rain slams on the windows hard enough to mask what noise you've let escape your lips.

Joel stares at you as if it's torture; you can see his own arousal growing in his pants; even as he adjusts, his brows drawn and breathing sharp. sliding the other strap off your shoulder, you let the top of your dress fall; your breasts on full display, nipples perking at the cold nip of the air.

"god damn it," he hisses, "quit your fuckin' teasing."

you don't, though: and he cannot conceal the groan he lets out as you push your chest out, arching your back as you start to thumb your clit. pleasure courses through you, soaking your panties as you watch Joel watch you.

his hand barely twitches before you shake your head, "don't touch yourself." you snap, eyes sharp as you watch his palm press over his obvious hard-on.

he glares at you.

"y'think you can tell me what to do?" he snaps, eyes sharp though you can see the flush on his cheeks at your words. this makes you stop; instantly you're pulling your fingers out of yourself, sitting forward - his eyes widen only slightly when you stand, suddenly standing over him again.

he is a dream - laid back, cheeks red and eyes sharp from the tease, straining nearly out of his pants in his desire. he pants, swallowing as you trail your fingernails over his chest slowly; up, higher...

your hand wraps around his throat - it looks small, next to his tanned skin, but the way he swallows, the way his cock twitches - he loves it. you do, too. you lift a brow. "don't think I won't fucking leave you here like you left me alone at the Bison." tilting your head, you smirk. "someone has to put you in your place, right?"

his jaw is taut as he blinks at you, not daring to argue. you tilt your head, staring at him until he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "fine, darlin'." he grunts, "have it your way."

his hand slides away from his crotch and with a satisfied smirk, you let go of his throat. "don't move your hand from the mattress unless you want me to leave." you snap, sending him a look, "okay?"

his jaw ticks, as if deciding how much power to give up. he sighs sharply, "fine."

satisfied at his answer, you slide your underwear off your legs, leaving the dress on your torso.

Joel swallows hard, cheeks pink with desire as you climb up onto his lap; his eyes watch you warily, knowing you well enough to know you wouldn't give in this easily.

and you haven't.

instead you slide back slightly onto his thighs, relieving the brief pressure of your heat over his clothed cock; you snake your hand down, returning your fingers to your heat to find the velvety arousal waiting for you. he watches with lidded eyes and a slacked jaw. sighing, you wiggle your hips, gasping as the tips of your fingers brush your sensitive clit. your other hand rises to pinch a nipple gently, eyes locked on Joel's. he's halfway delirious - exasperated, irritated, melting with desire.

"is this better, Joel?" your voice drips with antagonism as you slowly slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, "you wanted me close, didn't you?"

he says nothing; watching you, his hips move with yours, providing you with friction as you touch yourself on his lap. a muttered curse under his breath until you whine gently, fingers stretching yourself as you wish it was him.

"god damn it." he mutters, head falling against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as if in silent prayer. you can see him searching for some god, high up there, who will take him out of this torturous pleasure. there is a burning desire, a sweet pride, knowing that you are the only one who can. "-gonna be the death of me, darlin'."

it is not the first time he's said this. in fact, the night you first fucked around with Joel he said something very similar as you walked the patrol logs to Maria and Tommy's; the memory makes you flush, the anticipation, the butterflies, the shock.

the first time Joel put his hands on your skin, caressed you, fucked you.

"y'gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?" his voice always slips into that Texan accent more when he is aroused; the heat spreads over your body and goosebumps crawl over your legs as you let your head fall back - moaning his name, you thumb your clit gently. it never feels good enough when you do it yourself; hiding this truth, you hum, sending Joel a salacious smirk. "if you want me, you're going to have to beg for it."

this seems to have brought him back to Earth, back to this bed, to remember who it is that straddles him, who it is he desires most in this town. he bristles at your play for dominance. "-oughta fuck you 'til you remember who you're talkin' to. remember your manners." he snaps - his desperation is leaking through; you can only smile knowingly as you buck your hips on his thick thighs. pleasure starts to pool in your stomach as you tilt your head back, your thumb flicking over your sensitive nipples. he watches the movement like a hawk; angry, straining with pleasure but unable to do anything against your ministrations.

you lean yourself, not daring to stop your movements - instead, your hand slips from your breast to return itself to Joel's throat; squeezing as you feel yourself tremor with ecstasy. the want in his eyes drives you forward.

"where are your manners, old man?" you whisper, breath hot as it fans across his lips. "standing up a pretty girl like me?" you tut, shaking your head. "such a mean man. you know, I could have my pick here in Jackson-" you sigh, feeling yourself pulse with your imminent high, your fingers pumping into yourself and pleasure coursing through you.

he lets out a sigh, a whisper upon your own lips, "-I know, baby." he grunts, hips bucking against yours, seeking any kind of friction for himself. something about his desire, how you've rendered Joel Miller completely desperate and breathless for you, nearly pushes you to the edge.

"-fuck, 'm sorry, darlin'," he grunts; his hand grips the sheet below him, his voice quieted with the knowledge that Ellie remains somewhere in the house. You swirl your hips, nearing your high as your head tilts back; you move, your tits bouncing as you do, gasping gently. a part of you wishes to see how far you could push it - could he cum in his pants like this, barely touched?

but a yearning desire to be filled by him overtakes that thought.

"see-" you cut yourself off with a quiet, sweet moan, pulsing around yourself, "see how wet I am?" you spread your thighs open further, leaning back; his eyes, hungry and unrelenting, stare down at the apex of your thighs, where you've made a wet patch upon his pants, where you fuck yourself on your fingers. "yeah, baby. let me feel that pretty pussy, then." he grunts.

you lift a brow. Joel lets out a desperate moan, eyes rolling gently as you pitch your hips forward, grazing his straining cock. You eye him coyly. "where's that please you love to hear so much, Joel?" you hum, your thighs trembling as you stave off your orgasm. "or have you already forgotten how to speak?"

his eyes strain as he resists the urge to put his palm over you - your tits, your face, your cunt - you grin in satisfaction. good. "jesus," he grunts, "lord- just-" he clenches his jaw, hips bucking up against you; you gasp at the friction it causes, pushing your palm into your clit hard. "-let me fuck you." he tries to order.

you shake your head, "beg for it." you says, breathless as you scrunch your eyes shut, nearing your orgasm. "beg for me, Joel." you say again, clenching- so close-

his grip finds your hand, tugging you away from your seeping cunt so quick you barely know what's happening. you gasp, eyes flying open; his eyes are not nearly as sharp as they were- no, they're begging, pleading: wide, staring up at you like you floated down from Heaven above.

"-don't cum yet, please." he says, voice breathless, "wanna feel you 'round me. promise, I'll do anything you want, anything - please."

you could cum untouched at just the words, the arousal dripping from his lips, the way his eyes drink you in like he never wants to see anything else.

the breath tumbles out of your lips, staring at him with satisfaction, your own cheeks flushed. "was that so hard?" you pull him in for a kiss that has him keening, tongue struggling to fight for the dominance you refuse to give up. even if it took Joel dislocating his shoulder, you will not let him take away your first real breath of control over him. you lean in to his ear, biting his lobe softly as his breath hitches, "now let go of my fucking hand." you whisper coldly.

he drops it like dead weight.

smirking, you lean back, lifting your fingers between you and him; your slick coats them, shining with your evident arousal and desire. you don't have to ask; he's taking your wrist gently and pushing your fingers to his lips in a second.

you watch in awe, desire simmering deep within you as his tongue laps every drop of your arousal from your fingers, his eyes rolling back in his head, groaning gently at the taste of you. "fuck, sweetheart-" he moans and you're unsure if you've ever heard something so delicious. "please, let me feel you."

you hum, roving your hips over his, sliding until you straddle him properly; his fist, squeezed and wanting, clenches against the sheets below him. a part of you flourishes within your chest as you watch him - so clearly aroused, yet letting you take the reins for once and doing what you say.

experimentally, you drag a hand down his chest. careful to avoid his left shoulder, which is propped up and slung with a makeshift sling from an old t-shirt, you explore him.

Joel has never really let you look at him very much before; you smile, eyes trailing over his puffing chest, his stomach, down to where you roll your wet cunt over the fabric of his jeans. the texture is rough - you nearly yelp as your clit catches on the cold metal button; Joel's lips quirk up in a small smirk at the noise you let out.

you ignore his stare, not letting yourself think about how full of admiration it is at the moment; no, you let yourself bathe in the arousal, in the waiting that Joel has patiently gone through for you. your eyes find his face - that rugged, guarded expression: you see the flicker of vulnerability within them that you're slowly getting used to, that warmth that always catches on your heartbeats and makes them skip or pound just that much quicker.

so patient now, but where was he hours ago, when he could have come told you in person he couldn't make your date, or hell even just sent Ellie?

"somethin' wrong, baby?" he asks, voice low - his brow is similarly so, drawn over his eyes and you nearly lean to kiss the concern away; you remember the stares you'd gotten at the Tipsy Bison just an hour ago, sitting alone - another bout of irritation washes over you. "y'tired of tryin' to tell me what to do?"

you let out a small huff, "thinkin' about what I was gonna let you do to me in the bathroom at the Bison tonight."

it's barely a hint at anything, but his eyes shut at the image. "I'm s-"

you really don't want to hear it - he's already apologized several times, and you forgive him. now, you're much more focused on giving what you get. "-shut up, Joel." you snap - and he does.

jaw snapping shut, he watches you as you move on him, eyes desperate, hungry.

you let your hand slide over the wet patch you've made to palm him, squeezing his cock experimentally. it throbs, twitches; the breath catches in his throat at your palm and you hum. he lets out a low moan when you unclasp his jeans, tugging then down enough to let his cock spring free.

he's impossibly hard; leaking precum and throbbing, Joel stares up at you as you dance your fingertips around the course hair at the base, watching him move under you. his lips are parted, but nothing more than grunts and breaths leave them; you grin. "what's wrong, Mr. Miller?" you tilt your head, "scared you'll cum too quick?"

his eyes roll at your sass, but whatever lip he was about to deliver is cut off when you move your hips upward; grazing over his aching cock is your wet arousal, your cunt enveloping him in your heat. it's as much a tease to him as it is to you - you're aching with need, cunt swallowing around nothing each time you slide your hips against his cock and feel it slide through your slick.

"please." it is like a breath in the wind, but it makes you smirk. your hand slides to hold his jaw, tilting his head until he looks at you straight-on - his eyes are wide and pleading, begging. it coils something very deep within you.

"you're real handsome like this, Joel." you say, just to watch the blush over his cheeks. his brows furrow, nostrils flaring; irritated, bashful, embarrassed. "I love it when you're so desperate you can't think straight."

he lifts a brow, not daring to say anything - you see the knowing look in his eyes, though; he loves it just as much as you do. you wonder, briefly, if he's ever really let go like this before, let someone else take control. it makes you throb to think you might be the first one. your clit brushes to head of his dick and you both gasp; your hand slides until your thumb pulls on his bottom lip. parting his mouth, he watches you expectantly - a tingle within you as you realize what he expects without having to tell you, and so you do it. spitting, you watch as your saliva mixes with his on his tongue and he groans, swallowing it quickly.

fuck, it feels good; your slick has ruined his jeans and you've run out of patience.

slowly, you rise to your knees and grasp his cock, giving two pumps that have his eyes shutting and swears tumbling from his bitten lips. but then, you notch him at your entrance, swallowing thickly at his size - no matter how many times you take Joel, it's always a stretch.

he feels it too, his eyes widening in bliss. "c'mon, now-" he becomes impatient; you serve him a warning look, lifting a brow. his expression is one of pure resentment and arousal - you're relieved for a moment that he truly is injured, otherwise you know your ass would be spanked completely raw and you'd probably be fucked out on the floor having alerted the whole neighborhood.

"quit actin' like you've never done this before," he snaps, clearly fed up with playing around, "like you weren't made to slut yourself out on my cock. let me feel you." but his eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head, adding a small, sarcastic, "please."

a shiver of desire cascades over you; irritation at him standing you up, at getting injured and not telling you, at the storm for ruining your crops - all the frustration dissipates when you sink yourself slowly onto Joel, feeling him split you open.

you moan in tandem with him, taking him as low as you can go until you let out a short whine, feeling his cock punch your cervix. deep- he always gets so fucking deep.

you remain slow because you know he wants it fast. a rise and fall of your hips, teasing, as he drags alongside your channels, your cunt squeezing him deliciously. you're already nearing bliss once again, eyes fluttering at the feeling; using him, taking what you need.

his own eyes are screwed shut, jaw more tense than you've seen before; breathing heavily, it's as if he's trying to fight an orgasm already. you smirk, shaking your head, "already so close, old man?" you tut, leaning back to balance one hand on his lower thigh, the other hiking up your dress so that he can see your slick, where his cock is swallowed by your greedy pussy.

you sigh, the feeling euphoric as his hips slowly buck to meet yours, fucking into you as you bounce on him. you try not to let your eyes roll back, taking in the slow sweetness of him filling you to the brim. "you're so fucking lucky, you know that?" you hiss, eyes knitting together. "such a fuckin' asshole, yet here I am letting you fuck me."

he groans, head falling backwards and his free fist not wrapped in the sling fisting the sheets with a death grip. you slow your hips slightly when he doesn't respond, watching him with arousal swirling across your vision. a low fire burns bright within your core, your orgasm building up again.

“fuck," he nearly moans it, "I know. I know. just- don’t fuckin' stop, baby.”

you've never heard him this desperate; it shoots ecstasy through your very veins, curling your toes and making you clench around him, throbbing in pleasure. "pussy's fuckin' heaven." he mutters to himself. you flutter, shivering down your spine.

"dirty man," you whimper, starting to fuck yourself onto him harder; you bite back a moan as you hear your wet cunt against him, legs beginning to shake. "how long did you know me before you decided you wanted me, hm?"

he lets out a low groan, hand flying to rake through his curls as he bucks his hips with yours. your hand flies to his cheek, landing a smack upon the apple of it. a light slap, one to make sure he's paying attention; the doe-look in his eyes makes your arousal coil, that spring getting tighter and tighter.

is this how he feels when you're underneath him, looking up at him like that? "I asked you a question." you whisper.

"m-moment I saw you," he says, "y'know that, baby." he affirms, barely able to string his words together. warmth courses through you at the admission, so free, so honest.

"fantasized about me for months, didn't you? and now you have me, and you're leaving me all alone on our first date?" you shake your head, pushing your hair away from your face before toying with your tits once again, sighing as you shiver. you're chasing your high already, spurred on by his flustered state, by the power you've found within it.

the rain slams on the windows outside, but you couldn't care less.

you know he's injured; you know Joel, he wouldn't intentionally hurt you - but standing you up on your first date still stings, and you're not afraid to let him know.

you're close to your orgasm, and Joel can tell - his thighs are thick cords of muscle beneath you as he begins to fuck up into you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix and making you bite back a scream of pleasure.

you cast yourself forward, avoiding his injured shoulder as you nip along his neck, tongue sliding against the damp, hot skin. "we can play games all we want, Mr. Miller," you whisper against his ear, relishing in the deep spot he hits within you, "but we both know. I own you."

he lets out a groan at this, his hips bucking up into you; you gasp as his cock punches your cunt, hitting so deep you keen upwards, toes curling. fuck. "yeah baby, I'm yours-" his voice nearly breaks as he says it, looking as if fighting an internal war over risking further injury to his shoulder if it means pulling you down harder against him. "fuck, so fuckin' pretty like this, all mine."

his chattermouth seems to have returned; in great time, too, as you grip the hand he's cemented to the sheets and shove it between you two, gasping as you near your high.

"make me cum," you instruct, "make me cum, then maybe I'll let you cum. can you do that?"

it is an echo of what he'd asked you just days ago in your own bed; with the rain pouring down, flickering in candlelight.

"fuck," he mutters, "yes." he affirms; you nod, too blissed out to respond more. his fingers spring to life desperately, his own thrusts sloppy as he seemingly tries to stave off his own orgasm. your body is on an electric wire; every muscle clenches when his rough fingers find your clit, toying and rubbing furiously to bring you to that brink. "g-good, that's so good-" you moan, trying desperately to control the volume of your voice as you shake with pleasure. "don't fucking cum, Miller." you order, hand falling to his throat. he moans, nodding.

"please," he says it quietly; you see the hunger, that darkness in his eyes as he strains. you gasp, a wave hitting you as he begs, "please, cum for me, pretty girl." he groans, "wanna feel it. c'mon-"

you hit your orgasm with a gasp and a low, drawn out moan. it rolls over you in waves, pulsing, dragging you into the current and spitting you, heaving, back into the universe. he's pressed his hand over your mouth; a desperate plea to remain undiscovered, as your hand falls similarly to his mouth from his throat.

you feel his lips form your name under your fingers; it feels like home.

his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim; he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss Joel's neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers fly up; too weak of desire, you let him grip the side of your thigh. "shit," he mutters, "darlin', I'm close-"

shaking your head, you stare at him, "didn't tell you you could cum yet, did I?"

the taste of his own medicine looks divine upon his face; the graying facial hair glinting in the rainy light outside, his thick neck on display again. he growls and it stirs something delicious within you.

you feel your grip on reality - on your control, on him - start to loosen as your thrusts become sloppy. "Joel," you whine looking into his eyes. it's as if he snaps.

he’s surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arm rising to your waist to hold you as you move. this position hits the perfect spot inside you that you have to bite hard on his good shoulder to avoid screaming in ecstasy.

the rain washes away the sound of skin against skin but you feel it, you feel him everywhere.

"I'm close," he mutters. your eyes are screwed shut; you jolt when you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing figure-eights on your clit and you nearly writhe in his hold, whispering, "don't- you'll hurt yourself."

"don't fuckin' care." he almost growls, beginning to drive up into you, tilting until your toes curl and your whole body shakes. "jus' wanna cum with you. can I cum with you, baby?"

his voice is so desperate your eyes nearly roll back. you move your hips, chasing the high that you can feel coming. you clench, feeling the familiar feeling creeping on you, your cunt puffy and spent; hungry. his hand grips tight on the junction of your leg and hip, fingers squeezing the sides of your ass as he pulls you down onto him, grunting with his eyes closed.

he looks angelic like this, flushed and wide-eyes as he bites his lip. your eyes meet his and you nod, "cum with me, Joel, yes-"

you shake as you hit your high, legs giving out a bit as you pulse and clench around his cock. it immediately makes him cum, thrusting into you and shooting hot spurts deep inside you, his moan desperate and full of pleasure. "could stay with you forever," he says, voice hollow and spent, warm and tired as he pushes his length impossibly deeper into you, sending you keening. your thighs quiver, feeling the cum that leaks from you drip onto his jeans; your heart stops, a wash of flattery over you suddenly as you register his words. "keep you with me forever."

your heart is suddenly pounding, chest heaving, eyes blissful. you stay, arms on him as his good arm stays around you, pulling your weight on top of him. his cock still throbs gently inside you as you press your cheek against his chest.

keep you with me forever. you sigh at the thought, blinking syrupy, pressing a kiss over his chest.

you open your mouth; in fact, the sentiment is there, unspoken and unadmitted but still lingering like clouds and sunsets and uncertainty and fear in your mind. something like love.

but he cuts you off before you can even speak, "I'm sorry," he mumbles, lips brushing against your hairline, "I wanted tonight to be perfect. I'm sorry I got hurt, 'n I'm sorry I didn't tell ya."

you swallow back your words, nodding, "Joel, I understand. tell me next time."

he nods, "jus' gotta stop fucking this up." he says, voice slightly anxious. furrowing your brows, you sit up slightly; you both wince at your sore bodies, but you don't mind. frowning, you take in the melancholy that's settled now that the haze of lust as subsided. this isn't normal; trying to navigate any kind of relationship itself is difficult, let alone your rocky start with each other - god forbid you have rough patches, misunderstandings.

Joel has shown his capacity to mature, to work on himself, and you wouldn't dare write that off as nothing. you know it isn't - you know just a few of the many things Joel has seen in his time. you will learn when he is ready, but for now you wait, patient.

"hey," you say softly, guiding his cheek in your palm. he looks at you with large eyes as you shake your head, "you care about me" you affirm.

he nods with no hesitation, "yes, I do. I-" he cuts himself off, looking away before taking a breath, "jus' don't deserve you, s'all."

you shrug, "well, I care about you too. that's what matters. everything else, we're just..." you purse your lips with a small smile, giddy at the thought of his words earlier; in this life, finding any kind of happiness is wholly unrealistic and more than a privilege. and yet, you have this man in front of you; a protector, a friend, a lover - things are fucked up, yes, but there isn't anything in this world that isn't.

perhaps it's time to start maturing; perhaps it's time to start seeing things for what they are.

"figuring it out?" he offers, looking almost hopeful. you nod; he kisses you fully, lips tasting a faint hint of your arousal from earlier.

he hums as his hand trails over your back, up your neck. "your hair's still wet." he observes against your lips, hand carding through the strands. you nod bashfully, "was pouring out earlier." you remind him.

he hums, "still is." he observes, chin jutting to the window. you look on, taking in the tears that slide down the panes violently; a cry from the world, though your heart is filled with something much more joyous. "s'ppose it's too late to take you to get drinks, then?" he suggests, giving you a look. you look at him wildly, "you're injured, Joel."

he sighs, "don't matter, like I said." he argues. you huff, shaking your head, "I heard you were being babied all day, and now you want to walk down into town in the torrential downpour?"

he stiffens, lifting a brow; you flush when you feel his semi-hard cock warm inside you. "who the hell said I was bein' a baby?" he says; you laugh. he laughs, too. it's nice.

shaking your head, you sigh. "we'll wait until you feel better, Joel. then you can take me for as many drinks as you'd like."

he sighs, "get'ya all the liquor left in this place if I can help it." he mutters, kissing your hairline again, "I'm sorry, again."

you kiss his lips, knowing he means it. "I know you are." you whisper back, a hand soothing over him. his eyes are a deep honey, searching yours with vulnerability; you're reminded of his words from just moments ago and flush.

Joel speaks up again first. "would you-" he swallows thickly, and you turn to watch him, still bathing in the afterglow of two orgasms, his cock still snug within you. his good hand slides over your spine, "would you stay the night?" he asks, eyes vulnerable, "y'can borrow some clothes." he offers, looking over your soaked dress hopefully.

something flutters in your stomach and you nod, "sure, I'd like that."

he's never invited you explicitly like this; you smile gently, deciding not to tease him for the blush upon your cheeks. you watch the curve of his nose, the curve of his jawline as he suppresses a bashful grin - you flicker with a stir of arousal. "can I use your shower?" you ask, eyes flickering to the bathroom that connects to his room. clearing his throat, he nods. "'course."

you purse your lips, "can you get in the shower with your shoulder like that?" you ask; his brow lifts in interest, some kind of arousal swirling in the depths of his eyes. "for a piece of this ass?" he mutters, hand groping your left cheek hungrily, "I can at least try."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the newly restored desire that grows between your thighs, smirking. "I should say you should take me to dinner first."

he chuckles, "ship's sailed on that, I think." he slaps your ass, watching with sharp eyes as the flesh bounces with the impact. "I'll make y'dinner when I'm healed, though."

you hum against his lips, sliding off of him and gasping at the feeling of his cum slipping between your thighs. you yelp lightly, grinning as you rise up and he slaps your ass again. "help clean me up first," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his nose, "then I'll consider it."

follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #the last of us (tv)#let’s chat abt mr miller #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #joel x reader #joel the last of us

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readychilledwine · 9 hours

Text

✨️ACOTAR Booty Headcanons✨️

💕Peep the thigh headcanons here💕

Warnings - Butts. Fanart of butts. Nakey butts. Bubble butts. Lady butts. Man butts.

Up next? ✨️ Hands ✨️

✨️Body Headcanons Masterlist✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

Edited to add - short plus size Elain sneak peak

A/N - for @lady-of-tearshed, I hope this meets all your dreams, my love.

A message from Mother - You, my sweet dear reader, are gorgeous as you are. You are real, touchable, and made with imperfections that enhance your beauty and uniqueness. You are a treasure. Do not compare yourself to a single body on this list.

Rhysand-

I like to start off strong..

Rhysand has a very bite-able booty.

He is slightly leaner than Azriel and Cassian, but he still has a firm butt.

Rhysand loves to wear tight slacks, just to watch your pretty little brain go blank when you see his ass.

He sleeps naked and it's hard for you not to just.. touch the booty.

To be fair, he loves to keep his hand (and hand print) on your butt, too.

Art by Amai actually just posted Rhysand butt fanart. Enjoy it below

Cassian-

John Cena has been described as having a military grade ass with an inhuman body.

Cassian also has an inhuman body, so it makes sense that my guy has a military grade ass.

Cassian has butt muscles in places you didn't even know you could have butt muscles.

It is intimidating. Very intimidating.

But you LOVE watching this man walk. Especially when he's walking to the bathroom to grab towels for aftercare.

Azriel-

Azriel's ass surprised you in the best way.

Azriel is lean compared to Cassian, so his bubble butt shocked you.

Much firm. Still jiggle.

You were ready for this jelly.

Azriel gets super shy when you tell him how good his butt looks, but he's like that one friend who secretly loves it and makes sure to wear the same pants/skirt/shorts the next time they see you so you are in love with their deliciousness again.

Sometimes, you just sneak up on Azriel and accidentally squeeze. In front of his family. But don't worry. He squeezes yours back.

Tamlin-

I'm disappointed I can't find this gif when I need it.

We can all hate on Tamlin as much as we want, but SJM herself says the man is muscular.

I imagine Tamlin was worried about his arms and chest being thicker than his legs, so he started hitting legs and glutes hard.

Then, the next thing he knows, he has a damn shelf.

He hates when you touch his butt though. He'd prefer you touch him other places.

But you bet your ass he is touching yours

Lucien-

I stand by Lucien having Chris Hemsworth's body type.

Lucien had the perfect, truly bite-able ass.

You constantly have your hand in his back pocket.

You constantly are giving it a little smack so it jiggles.

You always walk behind him.

Lucien loves the way you worship his body. He's insecure about his scars, so you loving every inch of him helps.

Eris-

Daddy 🫠🫠

Eris has the captain America Dorito proportions build, and I hope all of you know *exactly* what I am talking about.

I imagine Eris as slim muscular, and when I decided to do these, I needed him to have Chris Evans's ass

I mean look at it

Imagine that ass in Eris's finely tailored clothing.

Imagine that ass getting off a horse.

You're touching him. Constantly. And he loves it.

He loves that you seem to think he's some sort of God.

And he really loves it when you touch his butt because you begged him to treat you as his equal, meaning that ass of yours is in his hands quickly.

Helion-

You know when a guys thighs are so thick they become one with his dump truck? Helion.

He actually requires a CDL for his ass.

You can't really tell until he's naked and turns around due to the thickness of his thighs, but this male has ass for days.

And his ass is FIRM. There is not an ounce of fat on him.

He considers his ass a trophy of sorts, so touching it is only for those privileged to.

Luckily you have that privilege.

Oh, look.. I included the Archeron sisters

Feyre-

Don't accuse me of doing our girl dirty, but I picture Halle Berry in her Catwoman suit when I think of Feyre's body.

The reason you can't accuse me of doing her dirty is because the things I'd do if Halle Berry told me to do them are extreme.

I picture Feyre as very lean, very cut, and she had the cutest baby bubble butt.

She's definitely the friend who thinks she has no booty until you help her find the right outfit for the booty.

She also blushes whenever you touch it.

She wishes it was bigger sometimes, but a few spanks in, and she's telling you she's perfect as she is.

I wish I could find a better picture of this 🫠

Nesta-

Nesta I also picture as tight and lean.

For some reason when I read her, I picture Adriana Lima, but with blonde hair.

Maybe it's because I think Nesta has sultry vibes?

Nesta tries to keep herself small. It's ingrained deeply into her head because of her mother and grandmother that she has to be small.

She's also constantly training, so it keeps her tight.

She may not have the biggest ass, but that thing is the best apple you've bit

Elain-

If you don't know by now, you're about to: elain at minimum is slim thick.

I personally see truly happy glowing elain as mid to plus size, and I'm hoping for mid to plus size elain once this stupid shipwar is over.

Right now, though, elain is slimthick.

She's still recovering from her spicy sadness days, and her recovery has her doing squats in the garden

Ass. For. Days.

It's why she actually doesn't wear pants. She tried once and every almost had a collective mass failure heart attack.

So now, her booty is reserved for you and you alone.

You met when she wears cheeky things in the bedroom.

I imagine elain is super into impact play because she loves the way you compliment her recoil.

I think she's secretly proud of her booty. She just doesn't want anyone else to know. So sssshhhh.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp

#elizabeths.updates #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #cassian acotar #eris acotar #tamlin acotar #lucien acotar #elain acotar #nesta acotar #feyre acotar #acotar headcanons #acotar body headcanons #remember you are perfect the way you are #dont compare yourself to edited pictures of influences and celebrities

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doudouneverte · 3 days

Text

2026

a/n: first fic from his own universe...

*not my GIF*

Pairing: Glódís Viggósdóttir x Fem!reader

Summary: the day after Glódís' contract extension

Type: Fluff

Warning: use of google translate for icelandic words

word count: 1840

note: bold = swedish

------

It was a warm day—a very good day. Yesterday was even a better day for Bayern fans when Glódís' contract extension was announced. And right now, the team was arriving at the campus for training with a little surprise.

"Oh, look at that!" Georgia's voice got the attention of everyone. When the team looked at where the English referred, they saw a huge bouquet.

The bouquet was a combination of blue and red flowers arranged so the red flowers in the centre wrote '2026' and the blues one around made the whole thing look like the Icelandic flag. And the more cute thing was that the 'little' gift was on Glódís' cubby, making her blush intensely.

"Wow, that's a big one." Lea chuckled. "How did they even get it there? I would be scared to break it." There was a little silence in the room while the girls admired it until they heard the click of a snap shot.Everyone looked where the sound came from to see a very proud Islanlic captain.

"You have to take a picture with it." Linda proposed, and everyone immediately agreed. The captain didn't wait a second until she took it and posed with the wave of her teammates' phones.

The red-headed woman analysed the bouquet until she noticed a little card with it.

"Well, if I'm guaranteed to get something like that for an extension, give me a pen right now." Jovan said, making the whole team laugh.

During the whole training, the captain didn't seem to be able to suppress her smile, which made all the team tease her, but she couldn't care less. It was like that until Magda came to ask her something about it. Pernille was watching them a little curious, but from her girlfriend's behaviour, she could say that Magda was shy to tell what she was saying to her captain.

It was the last day before their next match, so the Danish brusehd it off and decided to focus on her training, but she made a mental note to ask about that later. At the end of the training, the girls decided to spend some time together, which everyone agreed with except the Swedish defender, who informed them that she had something important to do.

It was in the middle of the afternoon, and you were in the shop, waiting for any potential customers while you were on your phone. On Instagram, more precisely. You were watching some random posts until someone sent you a direct message.

You smiled at your phone, getting enough time to reply with a quick 'you're welcome' until someone entered the shop.

(has sent you a picture)

Glódís: Thank you 💙❤

It was a very fascinated and a little confused Magda who was facing you, getting you immediately confused and fascinated as well.

"Hi, how can I help you?" You asked, making the defender more confused.

"You speak Swedish?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'm from Malmo, and honestly, it's not every day that I get the visit of a Swedish superstar."

"I'm not a superstar."

"You're the captain of the national team, so for me, you're a superstar." You asserted your point, making her finally accept it. "So, how can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah. I want to buy something for my girlfriend, and a teamma- a friend recommended this place to me, so I came to check if you had something that could… I don't know; that can please my girlfriend."

It took you a few seconds to process everything and think about it. "Okay, you're in the right place for that. Do you have any idea, or can we think about it together?"

"Actually, yeah, just a moment…" She pulled out her phone and opened Instagram. "Something like that. But of course not as big as it."

You giggled a little looking at the picture of your wife smiling widely with your gift in her hands.

"Yeah, I think I can do something like that; excuse me a moment." You quit the counter to wander in the shop, picking some flowers, and then came back. "We can make it look like the Danish flag, or we can try arranging them to look like a white heart on a red background."

"The heart one!" Magda replied immediately, making you chuckle. "Sorry," she mumbled, making you even more chuckled.

"Don't worry, it's nothing. I'm used to this type of reaction with my wife."

"Oh, you're married?"

"Yess. 4 years now."

"Wow."

"Yeah, wow. But I can't be more happy with her; she's always so sweet with me. I mean, she made me leave Sweden, so that's the least she can do."

While you were finishing your 'piece of art', as your wife likes to call all your creations, you and Magda used that time to know more about each other. And after that, you decided to give it to her for free with a promise to let her pay for her next purchase.

Two hours later, you were cleaning up after your last client when you were interrupted by someone entering the shop. You looked at the entry to see your big bouquet covering the Icelandic captain's face.

"Hi, ástin mín (my love)." She greeted you happily.

"Why don't you let it at home, baby?" You giggled when you saw her trying to give you a hug without crushing the flowers.

"I know I should, but after the training, the girls wanted to spend some time together, and as a captain, I couldn't refuse that. And after that, I came here." She said proudly.

You gave her a kiss and took the flowers from her hands, making her pout a little.

"Hey, it's mine," she complained, making you laugh.

"I know, but I'll just put them in the water so you don't have to carry them all the time," you reassured her. When you finally dispose of the flowers in a pretty vase (chosen by Glódís), you finally let the defender rest in your arms on a couch behind the counter.

It was a habit of her to come here after the training just to spend some time with you, even if you assured her that she would eventually see you after you closed the shop.

"How many hours have we left before you close?" She asked.

"Two hours," you replied, and your wife hummed in reply, letting you know that she would probably fall asleep during this time.

You both stayed like that for almost fifteen minutes until the front opened again. You were trying to get out of Glódís' arms before you saw two familiar figures looking at you from the other side of the counter.

"Oh, look at that; she's so cute." Karólína said.

"She looks like an orange cat." Emilie added making you and the younger Icelandic player laugh. "What, isn't she?"

"She definitely looks like a cat." You agreed with her after a quick look at your wife. "But what are you doing here?"

"We have to play against Bayern tomorrow, so here we are. We just finished the training, and we have a little free time, so we came to check on you." The Norwegian player explained. You nodded, but you heard a snap shot. You turned your head towards Karólína with a confused look.

"Sorry, it's so cute. I had to." She tried to defend herself, but you didn't have a lot of time to think about it because the older Icelandic player started to wake up next to you.

The first thing she immediately noticed when she woke up was the two players who joined you. She was a little confused, but decided to brush it off when you didn't seem as surprised as her.

The three players stayed there until you closed the shop, helping with the late customers and cleaning before closing. After you dropped them off at their hotel, you drove back to your home.

"Finally alone!" Glódís exclaimed while you closed the door.

"Well, technically, we were alone for a moment, but Mrs. decided to take a nap." You said with a smirk.

"Hey, I was tired."

"I know. I'm just messing with you." You kissed her gently and said, "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

You led her to the couch, where you made out until you had to use the bathroom. While you were gone, you received a text from Karo, which intrigued Glódís. The defender unlocked your phone.

It was not the first time that she did that; you both trusted each other, and you both knew that neither of you would cheat or do any harm to the other.

She saw what her national teammates sent you and let out a little chuckle at the message.

"When did she even take that picture?" she asked no one with a smile on her face.

(picture)

Karo: the little orange fur of Iceland😺🇮🇸

When you were back on the couch, Glódís gave you your phone with a little smile. You raised your eyebrow before turning on your phone to discover your new lock screen.

"To her defence, you really look like an orange cat when you sleep like that."

"I'm. not. a cat." She pointed every word with light slaps with a cushion.

"Too bad, I really love cats." You tried to defend your point. The captain stopped her action and seemed to think about it.

"Well, you love me more than any cat." She reminded you.

"Yeah, that's also true." You tackled her on the couch and started to tickle her. Her laughs were filling the room before you started to shush her with kisses. You stopped only a short time after she finally caught her breath.

"You know what? I think you should come with me and the team for our international game this time."

You took some time to think about it, because even if you really wanted to be there to support her, you had your own duties, and she was aware of that.

"I don't know, älskling."

"Please. The girls miss you, and don't worry, I'll do anything to not let you get bored of them or anything."

"Oh, don't worry, I love them, and I could never get bored of them, but I have the shop and…"

"You can close for a week." She was now making the puppy eyes. "And I promise I'll help you when we get back."

"Really help me, or you'll just fall asleep like usual?" you mocked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"No, I'm serious this time." She took your hands in hers and put them under her chin, forcing you to focus on her. The captain stared at you like that, waiting for a response until you finally let her win this time.

"Okay," you sighed while Glódís jumped from her spot to hug you. "But don't forget to make up for that."

"I'll not, I promise." She concluded the deal with a passionate kiss. "I love you, Kærasta (darling)."

"And I love you too, Glo."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #Glódís Viggósdóttir #Glódís Viggósdóttir x reader #glodis viggosdottir x reader #fc bayern frauen x reader #bayern fraeun x reader

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gwenfr · 16 hours

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Another thing that I find, let's say fascinating, with the buddie shippers who say that Tommy didn't have enough scenes or facts known about him to be an interesting love interest to buck, is that I think they forgot or even didn't know at all (if they began to watch the show only recently) that it was the same for Eddie when he was first introduced in the show.

I was there when he arrived so many years ago, I was an avid watcher from the first season and I legit remember when Eddie had his first apparence and how people here on this same website, started to immediately ship Buck and him (and I was one of them, so I really understand)

I remember the numbers of gifs of Eddie shirtless and the 118 commenting on it and people focusing on Buck.

I remember all the posts about people saying they wanted them together and why they would be good for eachother, after the "you can have my back" scene.

People were literally shipping Buck and Eddie just after 1 episode and having a lot less information about Eddie than we had about Tommy in season 7.

You can say that Eddie and buck have 6 years of bonding so it will make sense, but the fact is that people were already shipping them and even chose the portmanteau Buddie for them only after a few scenes/episodes.

The "avid" buddie shippers who only began to watch the show recently should know that buddie came to be long before they binged the show and was on the same level (if not less in term of personal infos on the characters) than Bucktommy were before they kissed.

So i think it's pretty hypocritical for a lot of Buddie shippers to say that Tommy can't be Buck's boyfriend because they don't have 6 years of friendship or scenes together, when it was also not the case for Buck and Eddie 6 years ago and it didn't stop people from starting to ship them.

#911 #911 abc #bucktommy #eddie diaz #Evan Buckley #should i tag it buddie too ? 🤔

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vicvinegarandhughhoney · 2 days

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Dennis Reynolds is AUTISTIC!!!!

(At least, I headcanon him as such).

Here's why:

Sensory issues:

If you've watched the show, you probably already know what I mean, but Dennis really struggles to deal with sensory input. When there's a loud noise, he often covers his ears- like in Family Fight:

or he gets frustrated, lashing out at diners for being too loud (The Gang Dines Out), getting annoyed at Frank for chewing gum too loud.

It's worth noting that later on in this episode, Dennis can hear Frank chewing gum from the other room. He's clearly hypersensitive, and perhaps this even goes to explaining a little bit why his room is soundproofed? Could it be that rather than not wanting people to hear what's going on inside, he's desperate to block the noise coming from outside?? (this was suggested by @kod-lyoko , and I LOVE IT).

There are SO many examples of Dennis plugging his ears (often when the others don't react in such a strong way):

There are way too many examples to list here, and too many images I could give (the above were taken from @dennisboobs ' gif set) but hopefully you get the impression.

Social issues:

I feel like this one is pretty self-evident, but I find deconstructing the things Dennis does super fun, so I'm going to explain anyway: Dennis does NOT know how relationships work. There are a great deal of factors at play to cause this (I would argue that his early experiences in life definitely moulded his view in an unhelpful way) but the systematic way he looks at interactions REEKS of autism to me.

The DENNIS system is hardly peak autism representation (it's certainly not the bright and bubbly stuff people often talk about), but the fact that he has a system for romantic/sexual interactions, both for men AND women, feels super autistic-coded. He quite literally has a script which he follows to make interactions easier, one which he sticks to rigidly. And if anybody tries to implement this carefully thought out system incorrectly? Well, he'll let you know (e.g in The Dennis System episode where he blows up at Mac and Charlie for not getting it right at the fair).

He masks his social deficits well, but sometimes things don't go to plan. Sometimes, the girl on the cruise ship runs away, and Dennis announces that 'that's not supposed to happen'.

He comes off as creepy, but that's not his intention. He doesn't understand the way he's perceived by others in general- he thinks he's the King of St Joseph's, not realising he was actually an outcast all along. Just like a lot of autistic people, he didn't understand that he was on the fringes of society until it was thrust in his face, and that hurt.

Speech:

While Dennis often appears to speak pretty normally, there are a few occasions where his frustration causes this mask of normality to slip.

In The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby, Dennis is caught off guard by the hipster's reading of him, and immediately goes back to Frank and Charlie, parroting almost the same words he heard right back to them, despite not seeming to understand them at all (perhaps a form of echolalia?).

"I'm out here trying to make a difference, and you're over here rummaging around in the trash like a couple of narcs! Okay, you can't just come down here with your mainline cashmere, mousse... quaff... hairspray, and start being like, a suburban tool!"

It's also worth noting that even the poetic way he speaks when he's angry could be a trait ?? As a recently diagnosed autistic person, in my report they spoke about how I used 'idiosyncratic' language (basically, peculiar language lol), and listed terms like 'connoisseur', which I guess were deemed pretty formal for casual conversation.

And it got me thinking, who else do we know who uses VERY idiosyncratic language? Dennis. Reynolds.

"The thunder of my vengeance will echo through these halls, like the gust of a thousand winds"

"Begone, vile man, begone from me!... I am untethered and my rage knows no bounds!"

"You didn't tell me there was to be pollen!"

Etc... etc...

The way he repeats 'savages, idiots!' during his rage at the frat bros feels very autism coded to me. Repetition of certain words and phrases is common!

Heightened emotions:

Again, something that I didn't know until I myself was diagnosed is that for a lot of autistic people, we spend most of the time at a pretty 'flat' emotional state, but when we do experience emotions, we experience them intensely. Frustration turns into anger, sadness turns into despair, happiness turns into ecstasy- it's why some autistic people might be misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder!

This, of course, fits well with the way Dennis experiences emotions. He spends a lot of the time believing he doesn't have any at all, and when he does feel something, it's overwhelming.

"And I have feelings! Of course I have feelings, I have big feelings, okay? And it hurts."

These lines hit hard regardless of the extra weight you put on them, but when you see them through the lens of autism, through the lens of a lifetime of misunderstanding and overstimulation, it makes them hit even harder.

It hurts him to feel. His emotions are so strong that they're painful, and he's never been taught how to deal with them, because nobody even knew he had them in the first place.

Stimming:

Finally, I think Dennis stims. A lot. If you search up 'Dennis Reynolds autistic' on this very site, you'll find gifsets and videos illustrating this.

He has a few very common ones, like tugging on his earlobe when he's anxious, playing with his fingers, etc, but if you pay attention to him even when he's in the background of scenes, you'll pick up on a lot. Dennis is constantly moving, and while you could suggest this is simply a result of Glenn's ADHD, I'd argue that some of these stims happen so frequently in Sunny specifically, that there's no way they're coincidental.

Glenn makes a lot of very specific acting and directorial choices in Sunny, so why dismiss these as choices too?

That's all I can be bothered to type up now, but here's my case for Autistic!Dennis ! Of course, he's a complex character so there's always room for different interpretations...

but as an autistic person, I hereby claim him as One Of Us™.

#iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #dennis reynolds #its always sunny #autistic dennis

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rockinrpmemes · 2 days

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Some things NEW RP blogs need to understand about tumblr rpc etiquette:

It's good to see the RPC slowly reseeding itself after tumblr went all "scorched earth" on the writing community a few years ago. However, with a new crop RP'ers, comes a few issues that need to be addressed...Again.

------------------------------

If you are underage and approach a RP blog that clearly states: "NO ONE UNDER 18/21" Move on. We will not follow back, in fact, many of us surviving RP'ers since the 2015 RPC exodus are well over 30 now, and we will not be caught in some sick trap because a child thinks it's not a big deal to RP mature content with us. Go find someone your own age, and don't ruin our lives (literally, it's illegal and gross) because you have no impulse control.

Please, always reblog aesthetic pics, art, etc. from SOURCE, not the RP blog you're following. It's great if you like the photo or drawing we posted for our muse/s too, and want it as aesthetic for your muse/s, but understand you are clogging up the our Activity Feed. We don't see it as a compliment, rather, we see it as someone that is using our blog as a "resource" to siphon from, and nothing else. You will learn, as you RP more, even if you use some kind of thread tracker app, we ALL rely on Activity to see what exactly is going on with our threads and headcanons. Reblogging art, gifs, photosets, and text posts directly from us is a breach of RPC etiquette.

Same for memes...if you reblog a meme from us, and not the OP or another meme blog in the reblog roll, this looks like you're only following the RP blog as a resource, and not as a potential partner. Some RP'ers on here practice "meme/reblog karma" which means, if you take a meme, send a meme. But generally, 99% of the RPC frown deeply on RP'ers that reblog memes from them instead of source. Use the search bar and look up: "RP MEMES", many will pop up, often from Meme blogs like this one.

Some RP'ers do NOT feel comfortable with duplicates of our muses following them. Please read their guidelines or ask the mun privately if you are unsure. I don't know how it is elsewhere, but in the tumblr RPC, we have often seen duplicates of our muses stealing from us, so it raises a red flag across the board. Be it headcanons, plot arcs, ship-mates, etc. True, we can't steal partners/ship-mates. They can go write with whomever they please. But understand, if a duplicate starts to reblog ALL our stuff for their blog, and copy our plot lines and hound our main partners in order to replace us, it's very suspect, and you deserve the hard block you get. Where it gets confusing, is that some of us have no problem writing with duplicates, because we impliment "multi verse/ multi ship" law. Again, if you are unsure, READ THE BLOG'S GUIDELINES OR ASK the MUN.

If you send a meme or IC ask to RP blog to break the ice, be sure you actually know who and what their muse is. IE: If someone has a very canonly sweet and gentle muse, and you send them a confrontational, "down-to-fight" meme from your muse, I don't care if your muse is a textbook asshole. Use better judgement, because I can bet 9/10 times, the mun won't answer, because they will be baffled on how to reply. Same in reverse; if your muse is an innocent sweetheart, and you approach a chainsaw wielding murder demon from hell, while playing the cutiepie card, you will not get a good response. Know the type of muse you are approaching! We are not responsible for your muse's experience. We will answer In Character, or not at all. Don't complain about it later.

Never join in on a thread or verse that you are not invited to join. Again, I don't know where anyone allows this intrusive behavior, but if you see 2 or 3 people deeply embroiled in their own threading, you sticking your head into their thread and reblogging it to your blog "to keep" as a fanfiction or to "join in," is beyond rude and invasive. THREADS ARE NOT FANFICTION. You can "like" a thread, or do dash commentary, even message the authors on your compliments, but you never ever put yourself or your muse/s in their world without plotting or asking first.

#RPC help #RPC Aid #New RPG Help #New to RP #Rebloggable

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nalyra-dreaming · 2 days

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I'm sure you've heard already but ppl on Twitter tearing sentiment about Louis entering relationship with Armand for protection TO SHREDS. Going off how flirty Louis looked on the date. I just have two question for them:

1)What is that happened after that date that would've made Louis change his heart? (Sarcasm) Yes, Louis clearly boldly flirted with Armand there (lets ignore lestat third-wheeling and Louis taking photos of lestat with Armand being at the side). And AFTER he nearly died by Armand's hand. And Assad confirmed that Armand was planning to kill him, it wasn't just a sham. So, it's understandable that Louis started to look at Armand differently there.

2)"it's also the beginning of the ultimatum with Armand and the beginning of the darker side of their relationship" from Jacob's mouth. They need to look up definition of ultimatum. It's a CONDITION usually combined with a threat. We're being NICE when discuss this scene because I haven't seen single person imply that Armand was pressuring Louis into sex. All I saw people saying this situation happened unintentionally on Armand's part because he's used to power plays, toxic relationship etc

People are sooo hypocritical in this fandom. They SWEAR they love toxic love stories but get scared by toxicity. Bet same people who are pissed about this believe that Louis didn't want sex in ep6 and that he did it to appease lestat. Picking and choosing where to see abuse and where don't.

Also it seems like some give more importance to reviews than cast's interviews. I read reviews and read about tender romantic loumand in Paris.

I also heard Hannah saying that cage in bedroom was intentional. I also read jacob saying Armand is dark looming presence and that he serves function to Louis and that Louis becomes dissatisfied. There was a lot in Jacob's interviews actually.

Reviews and interviews don't always say the same thing, sometimes even contradict each other (Assad and Eric mentioning devil's minion and reviews saying there's nothing between them). And you would think people will focus on words of someone who WORKS on the show, but they prefer to hear only things that support their headcanons

Tbh, I have been taken aback by how willingly everyone is jumping/hating on that post (and, I mean, I have pointed out the same thing???), because... it completely dismisses what Assad and Jacob have said...

AND it completely dismisses Jacob's acting there.

Really look at him. I'm not going to pull up the gifs now, it's the current episode, go look at Louis' face and expression and body language... and then remember what his "inner Lestat" said.

And we all know how good an actor Jacob is, right.

I mean. The fandom dismissing what cast and creators say in favor of accusations is nothing new. God knows I've ranted about this. But... I mean... how can you think Louis, after Armand almost kills him... would just happily enter a relationship? When he just asked to be decapitated??? When the only thing that stopped him - was Armand's comment that Claudia wouldn't be around for long.

THAT is, as far as the tale is currently spun, what made Louis stop. Literally.

Jacob said that it would go darker from here and I... don't doubt it. But I think some people are not prepared, lol.

Dubai is a golden cage, by intent and set design as stated. And Louis was "the little birdie for the next 50 years".

Or does anybody really think the overlay with the coven telling Claudia that was a coincidence....

Or wonder why AMC did not promote Loumand as a couple... at all.

I'm just glad the gag orders have dropped away, at least I can listen now to Assad, Jacob, Sam and Rolin telling it like it is.

#Anonymous #ask nalyra #iwtv s2 #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire s2 #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #louis de pointe du lac #armand #loumand #jacob anderson #iwtv cast #sam reid #assad zaman #fandom wank

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doublel27 · 14 hours

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We Are: Queer Found Family and Romance

Or the meta I didn’t intend to write.

It’s taken 9 eps (of me admittedly watching We Are through gifs and clips on Twitter, because I have yet to pay for iQIYI and I am bad at grey watching) but I think I have figured out the central conflict/plot of We Are and why the mostly linear narrative of Phum and Peem with the in media res relationships of our other three pairings made this impossible to fully tease out until we got all the pieces.

The through line that connects all of these stories about how incredibly hard it can be to be part of a queer friend group when the lines of friendship and romance blur, especially when there’s a real aspect of found family to that group.

Two things really cemented it for me this week: Tan telling the gang (and therefore the audience) the full scope of his background with Fang, as well as the beginning of Phuwin’s IG live where he talks about why he likes Kluen as a character is that he’s very direct with people he likes and isn’t blurring the lines between friends and possibly fucking up the friendship.

Because that’s the central problem that all four main couples of the show grapple with in different ways. I’m gonna get into all of that under the cut.

I’m going to start with Tan and Fang because aou contains multitudes and is my beloved while going for Fang could have always messed up his relationship with Phum, we find out in episode 9 that Tan met Fang first. Unsurprisingly, it’s not a great first meeting between what are seemingly two known fighters of what appear to be rival high schools. But then Tan finds Phum and Fang being jumped by a group from his own high school and saves them and eventually becomes friends with them sometime two years+ before the start of our story. Within this time, Tan falls so far in love with Fang, who can both out bitch and out fight, him that Tan goes full simp instead and cuts out the fighting(love that for him).

And mixing his reveal to his friends of how he met Fang and how Fang eventually consumed his waking thoughts to the point he would wish to order Fang as a pizza topping (my love for Tan is immeasurable).

But take us back to episode 2 (which is now on YouTube for US watchers for how long I don’t know) and Tan has clearly not seen Fang in awhile. He asks Phum to invite Fang out where Tan will happen to be. At the time, it was taken as Tan and Phum are university friends and Tan and been obsessed with Fang ever since and needs Phum to make the connections. But the clues that Tan and Fang were also close were already laid down. Their exchange goes:

Tan: Hey. It’s been awhile. Right?

Fang: I thought you were dead.

Tan: Come on. I haven’t seen you in ages either. (That’s the English translation, but the flow of the conversation connotes that Fang hasn’t sought him out either)

At which point Phum makes the face he always makes when Tan is in Fang hyperfocus mode of looking away and sighing. And Fang pointedly asks why Phum invited him out and what is going on.

Which is a weird exchange when you think Tan is Phum’s friend who is obsessed with Fang. It is a less weird exchange between friends that have been avoiding each other for an unspecified amount of time. And we can assume Tan started avoiding Fang because he was madly in love with him and didn’t know how to handle it and didn’t tell Fang why he was avoiding him.

In the episode 9 speech to his friends, Tan outlines that he didn’t think Fang would ever reciprocate his feelings (that it was impossible) and didn’t want to fuck with the friendship (at which point Pun sends a longing look to Chain but we’ll get back to that later) with Fang and Phum and he buried it. Until he couldn’t live with it any longer and decided to do something about it.

Which with the limited information we have, his feelings were already fucking with his friendship. He already didn’t know how to approach Fang because of his feelings at the start of the show, so is it better to not try and hope the romantic feeling dies while avoiding your friend or shoot your shot and maybe get a boyfriend out of it or maybe continue to fuck up your friendship. Tan chooses to roll the dice and it’s clear from the moment they leave the bar in episode two that Fang likes him back.

They both watch each other when they think the other isn’t looking. Fang is the one who sends Phum and Peem home together and sets himself up with a taxi ride with Tan. It’s particularly interesting to me after episode 9, this exchange, because Fang looks at a passed out Peem, mouths Peem? And proceeds to ask Phum if this is the guy that hit him while Tan snickers and Peem looks like the saddest wet cat. It’s only after the affirmative from Phum that Fang is essentially like “well, you can take him home Phum. Take home your drunk friend who hit you and I will go home with Tan.” Which our besotted Tan jumps at.

And considering the parallel between Tan and Fang meeting and Tan immediately sassing him and Fang throwing a punch leading to a fight, and Phum ruining Peem’s painting which led to mutual sassing and a kick to the nuts and a fight…I don’t know if Fang is a mastermind and connected the dots because these brothers need someone who will occasionally not be afraid talk back if need be and sees the potential for Phum to care as much about Peem as Fang does for Tan. Or if he just wants time alone with Tan and doesn’t see it. Look, I wouldn’t be surprised if Fang is secretly a long game mastermind.

Once they’re alone, Tan and Fang steal glances and flirt in the way that Tan makes very loud attempts at flirting and

Additionally, Fang is reserved like Phum, and seemingly as isolated as his only friends seem to be Phum’s friends. We don’t know if he is just not paying attention to other members of the architecture faculty or knows stuff about Kluen he won’t share. As previous parts of this narrative are folded in later episodes, we may find out. What we do know is he’s either ever only appeared alone or in connection to Tan and Phum and Phum’s friends. Even with the flashbacks, Tan points out that the head of the Fang, head of cheer club, approaches him alone and later it’s just Fang and Phum when Tan finds the group of guys jumping them. We know he and Phum adopt Toey who is bullied in high school. It makes sense why he’s potentially reserved about pushing things with Tan if Tan becomes his first real high school+ friend that he has outside of his brother.

Which is why by the time we get to episode 5, Fang says yes before Tan finishes talking. He’s been waiting but also wasn’t willing to be the first to put himself out there. And considering how much Fang and Phum seem to live in their heads and not in the world with everyone else, I can see why he needed Tan to be the one to commit to it first, especially with Fang’s later comments about not understanding why hanging out with him is a preference of Tan’s. I do hope we cross his “don’t tell tan how gone I am on him” bridge later in the narrative. Cause I think Tan knows, but also it’s nice to hear.

Let’s go back to another long-suffering pair where only one half really knew why they were suffering, and the other got a nasty shock, QToey.

I know the guys are all team if Toey loves Q and Q loves Toey then why is Q so hesitant? And I get it, but let’s talk about the double shock Q suffered and the potential layers of risk Q is facing.

It’s not just that Q is cautious with his heart. That is a factual truth. It’s why he ghosted Milk Frappe Boy, because while he fell in love with Milk Frappe Boy I think there was a deep worry, and a self esteem issue that the reality of Q, instead of Pencil Senior, would not be enough for Milk Frappe boy. So Q bolted and then deeply regretted said bolting enough say so to both Toey, not knowing the truth, and to Peem.

But the fact that he learned that Toey was indeed Milk Frappe boy at the same time he learned all of his best friends, his family for all intents and purposes, also knew and no one told him. And the way the confrontation is staged between Q and Toey, it is Q against Toey and everyone else is behind Toey.

And that, friends, that’s the real third rail for Q.

It’s one thing to know that he loved Milk Frappe Boy and that he loves Toey. And that is scary enough. The fandom loves to joke about how Toey is everyone’s little brother and they’ve all adopted him: and that is a correct assessment. But that means if Q fucks it up with Toey, he stands a chance in his mind of everyone else choosing Toey over him.

That fear doesn’t even feel that unfounded when everyone calmed Toey down mostly before Peem, Q’s true bestest friend, came out to be with him. Like Peem caught Toey before going after Q. The next episode nearly every character but Q (aside from Fai who is at all connected to this group) shows up to plan how to support Toey in getting Q.

And while I know my brain cell-less brain trust fully believe they’re helping Q, no one actually seems to ask what Q wants. Aside from Peem trying to get him to come to some that first night on the curb, no one ever asks. And that night all Q wants is to sleep in a pile with his four best friends, because that’s his family. Losing them is even scarier than losing Toey. In essence he’s lost Milk Frappe Boy once. He could do it again. But if they chose Toey…IDK.

We don’t know anything about their families really, aside from Peem’s lovely aunt and the fact that Phum doesn’t get along with his dad. And I get why when the focus is really on these large groups of found families (that are becoming one large found family) that the audience is really in love with. The bonds between the friends are just as much a part of the romance as the actual romances. Because the friendship is where the complications come from.

And while I can’t speak to mlm spaces, as I have never identified as a man, within queer wlw and non-binary spaces there are jokes about dating yourself out of friend groups. There are people you used to know who you don’t anymore because you dated someone in the friend group and were too new and got bounced. Or you date and the way it ends make everyone choose one side. Or, a person in the friend group has a crush on another person in said group, that is an open secret but when the person who was crushed upon gets a new relationship people get mad at them for not dating the person in the friend group who liked them all along because didn’t everyone know. (None of these are from personal experience I assure you 🙃)

And it doesn’t always happen like that. Sometimes the people figure out a friendship or a queer platonic solution when they’re not attracted to each other anymore. Sometimes they orbit around the friend group like two comets on opposite trajectories, occasionally crossing in awkward moments. Sometimes everyone gets past the weird. Sometimes no one does.

But that’s the risk that we’re playing in this show. I can choose the romance, but if it doesn’t work out, I am gambling this safe zone.

Which is gonna bring me to our last two pieces of this: one has had the most development and one the least but both are struggling.

I’m gonna start with Chain and Pun who are the most unhinged, gay yearning codependent besties that exist in the middle of the week and give Potae and Payos on Only Boo a real run for their money. (Both have lips touching earlobes and I don’t have a platonic answer for either) The thing is, I think both Chain and Pun are very aware of the mutual feelings. They both have moments where you know they’re aware but neither will do anything about it. And they are in the case of the story, the most embedded in one single friend group, and have the potential to explode their core group of five if things go sideways.

Now, they’re also the pair that has been effectively dating this entire time without actually dating. The ear biting and the blowing on things in the other’s mouth and the…I don’t have platonic explanations for their behavior okay? I don’t. Not naming it keeps it from being real though. It’s a collective hallucination or the biggest game of chicken.

Eventually, though, one of them is going to cross the line in a way that can’t be erased or the line redrawn. And it’s gonna have to be big because their friends watched them gaze longingly into each other's eyes for 20+ seconds and thought it was normal. Because this is how they are.

And that brings us to not quite friends not quite lovers and not quite enemies, Phum and Peem. The risk is, as discussed in many other metas, mostly on Phum’s side here and it’s why he spent the episode so hesitant. Yes he started off particularly entitled and rude. His and Peem’s relationship started as a fight (but so did Tan and Fang) and Phum feels incredibly comfortable with Peem. He’s definitely neurodivergent coded my Phum, which doesn’t make his assholery okay, but it explains his hesitancy to try new things and his struggle with making friends and expressing his feelings.

He’s got friends but he doesn’t feel particularly deeply connected to them. Yes, Beer makes time for him and actively seeks him out to give advice. He and Fang have a level of sibling codependency that hints at neglect and Fang protecting Phum at all costs. We see Tan approach Phum most of the time and while some of that is angling to get to Fang, Tan does genuinely care. But Tan is also incredibly loud which seems to be a lot for our neurospicy Phum, and Tan also has his large found family with Peem. Same with Toey, who Phum and Fang adopted long ago, and clearly Phum adores him, but he’s also the little brother of the art faculty.

And Peem is a very loving and giving soul and he makes time and space for Phum even though he’s annoying and high handed and gets Phum out of his ruts and comfort zones. And Phum clearly wants Peem to choose him, because Phum has already chosen even if he hasn’t said “I like you and want to date you.” He’s said other very direct things about how safe he feels with Peem and how connected he feels to other people by hanging out with Peem. And Peem is this safe space for him to go out and connect with the world without it being overwhelming and he even feels more connected to his own friends.

And that’s the danger that Kluen represents and what Phum struggles with. He wants Peem to choose him, but he also doesn’t want to force Peem to make a choice and not choose him, and then lose out on the experiences he’s building with Peem as well as a break in some of the connections he has with the people closest to him as Fang and Toey find love within Peem’s group. And so again, the question comes around, is it better to stay in this limbo where no one says anything and maybe Peem dates Kluen but I get to keep him as a friend, or do I roll the dice like Tan and maybe win.

I think it’s been a hard thread to pull because without the context of Tan & Fang meeting first, and Phum and Peem mending their relationship to become something akin to friends who kiss sometimes and don’t talk about it, and the lingering feelings of betrayal for Q by his friends (where they learned about his largest secret/mystery and NO ONE TOLD HIM) which are later revelations in the course of the show, they feel like different types of love stories without the mess of friendship blurring the lines. The story feels linear, because we start in a school year with the meeting of Phum and Peem, the connections between the other characters are older than this year, leaving some of their stories in media res.

And it’s an interesting core struggle taking a risk when the line between who you’re friends with, who you depend on, and who you’re attracted to blurs and the potential for rifts in your safety net are everywhere. It’s not the first show with this as a central tangle nor is it specific to queer television. But the reality of the deep ties that can exist within queer friendships and how they form deep supportive communities makes the stakes higher. And that’s why the friendships are developed nearly as much if not more than some of the romances. That’s where a lot of the risk lies for these characters.

Anyway, that’s nearly 3K of thoughts I didn’t know I had in me about We Are until today. But here we are.

#we are the series #we are series #we are #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #thai bl #thai ql #gmmtv #gmmtv 2024 #we are meta #we are the series meta #queer media meta #doublel27 talks #doublel27 meta #I know I rambled here #sorry if it’s not coherent

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