#just whatever i have motivation for at that time

[ace-turned-confused]

whatever you want | joel miller x f!reader

summary: date night for you and Joel but we skip to the good part xoxo word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, POV changes (i tried my best pls be nice), no plot in sight, reader has no physical descriptions other than clothing, established relationship, pet names, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, butt stuff, spitting, creampie, praise kink, panty kink, size kink, Joel’s filthy mouth a/n: this is the first thing i've written that's actually made it out the doc before being trashed forever - big thanks to my irl bestie for her continuous words of encouragement <3 this is very mildly edited because i'll hate it if i keep trying to improve it ✌️ i'd appreciate any feedback! again pls be nice thank you love you okay bye divider by @saradika-graphics

You've been looking forward to this all week — date night with Joel. You usually stick to something simple, going out for a cosy dinner or just deciding to cook together at home — but he always ensures it’s a memorable night in one way or another, and tonight is no exception.

He suggested to you earlier in the week, lying in bed, “How ‘bout this time you pick out something for me to wear? Hm?” It had your mind racing with ideas, thinking about all the possibilities now presented to you. 

You glance at him, “So what’s in it for you, then?”

“No ulterior motive here, sweetheart,” he puts his palms up near his face and smirks, “You always look pretty for me, I just thought I’d return the favour.”

“Hm, that’s a big decision,” you mutter with a playful smile.

You’re well aware of what Joel loves seeing you wear — he’s always loved anything you wear, to be frank, racy or not — and decided to pose a deal to him, something you knew you’d both benefit from.

“I may have some ideas. Why don’t we make a deal, then?” you inch closer to him and play with a stray lock of his hair. “You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you.” Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s trying to figure out the game you’re playing.

“And what would that entail?” he asks, a hint of cockiness in his voice, impressed by your unusual boldness. You remove your hand from his hair and drape your arm over him.

“Will you wear that red shirt again… with the sleeves rolled up?” you ask shyly, trailing your fingers up and down his side.

“Sure will,” he says, still smirking. You’re only getting more breathless the longer this goes on, and you haven't even made your whole point yet.

“And… those black pants of yours…?”

“Which ones, sweetheart? I got a lot of black pants,” he remarks, feigning innocence and a cheeky lilt to his voice. “You know which ones,” you mutter, your hand stilling.

He shifts closer until you’re pressed against each other and whispers, “Don’t think I do, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

You huff, annoyed at him for teasing you like this, and at yourself for getting turned on by his games. “The tight-fitting, black—”

“That’s not what you really want to say, though, is it? Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” he interrupts, and you shiver.

You look down at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him and pray he doesn’t notice how your cheeks redden as you whisper back, “Those black pants that everyone can see how big you are, those pants, I want you to wear them.”

He skims a hand up your back, “See? Was that so difficult?” he asks rhetorically, and you can practically hear his teasing smile and visualise the dark glint that you know will be in his eyes. “And what shoes should I wear, you know, to tie the whole look together?”

��You know very well I couldn’t care less what fucking shoes you wear,” you chirp back at him, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.

Satisfied with your answer, he plants his hand on the small of your back, caressing you gently with his thumb, “You mentioned some kind of deal?”

If he hadn’t brought it up again you’re not sure you would’ve remembered at all. You’ll always be amazed by how calm he is after derailing a conversation and making you so flustered.

You close your eyes, mentally shake yourself, and start your bargaining, “Well, I promise to wear the laciest panties I own—” you look at him sweetly through your lashes, “—if you promise to keep your clothes on. And you can, you know, do whatever you want.” It comes out far breathier than you were planning, but it’s out. “With me, to me, you know. Whatever.” 

He raises his eyebrows slightly, voice lowered, “Whatever I want, hm? And all I have to do is stay dressed? Quite the deal there.”

-

Joel’s made himself comfortable in his chair, eyes trained on you in the doorway. Sitting here now, the night’s only just beginning and you’re already like putty in his hands. He noticed hours ago your eyes had glazed over, and he’s been growing harder and harder ever since in anticipation.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” he asks, and your gaze refocuses on him.

“You,” you reply, sweet and simple.

He does a once-over, taking in your flowery, strappy top and neat little black slip-skirt that falls just above your knees and hugs your hips beautifully — your hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt and you’re shifting your weight side to side.

He smiles softly and suggests, “Why don’t you show me those pretty panties you promised to wear?” and you nod gently, moving slowly further into the room.

Much more confident and comfortable in your own skin than when you took your clothes off for him the first time, you face Joel and lift your gaze to meet his. You reach behind your back to unzip your top and lift it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Pushing your thumbs beneath your waistband, you peel your skirt over your hips and hunch forward slightly, letting it pool around your feet. Standing at your full height again, he takes all of you in — clad in lace, black bra and lilac panties.

He widens his legs and curls a finger, beckoning you forward and you stand between his knees. Joel rests his hands on your hips, thumbing the lace over your hipbones.

“Where’ve you been hiding these?” he looks up at you and sees heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

“I, um… I’ve been saving them, for uh—“ you stutter, and he can see you start second-guessing your choice. Breathing shallowly, you murmur, “Do you not like them?”

He smiles at you, still playing with the lace, “I love them, sweetheart. You know I always do.” He lowers his gaze down to your panties again, eyes trailing across the fabric, and he doesn’t miss how you press your legs together, seeking any sort of relief.

He pushes against your hip to turn you around, and almost can’t believe how you’ve both ended up here. You, dressed in your best lace just for him, ready and willing to do as he says? You’d clearly been wanting to do this for some time now, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, too. He kneads the swell of your ass, fingers toying with the lacy edges and hears you breathing deeply again.

“So, whatever I want?”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder and reply under your breath, “Yes.”

He turns you around to face him, hands still on your hips. He looks up at you again, “You okay?” and squeezes his hands.

“Yeah,” and you nod, smiling down at him.

“Well, you did such a good job picking these panties all on your own, sweetheart, I think maybe you need a reward,” he darts his tongue out and drags his hands along your thighs, resting his arms down and leaning back in his chair. “First, though, you’re gonna show me just how good you can be, okay? C’mon, on your knees.”

You lower yourself, getting comfortable between his legs, your eyes lingering on his bulge before looking up at him. He nods towards his lap and you start undoing his pants, palming him through the fabric. Reaching into his boxer briefs and wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him a few times and pull his waistband down just enough to take him out, thick and heavy and already fully stiff in your hand. You bow your head to lick him from base to tip, hover above him and spit onto his cock, stroking him harder and smiling sweetly at him.

You start taking him into your mouth and he sighs, resting a hand on the crown of your head. “You been waiting all night for this, huh, sweetheart?”

You hum a response and he groans, watching you bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time. You pull off and continue stroking him, and he smiles at you in encouragement. You take him in your mouth again, and he feels you hollow your cheeks and take him even further, the tip of his cock just about breaching your throat and you whimper around him.

“Fuck, baby, doin’ so good,” he grunts and pulls you off. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, the other tracing over your collarbone and down over the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening through the delicate fabric. “Think you can do it?”

You nod eagerly at him, eyes glinting, hands stroking him languidly and you move to start sucking him again. He tightens his grip and stops you. “Use your words, please.”

“Yes, I can do it.” You look up at him and his hold softens.

“Good girl, go on.”

You lick the underside of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and take him again, working him just to the start of your throat. You’re breathing as best you can through your nose, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, lips stretched around him and brushing his wiry curls as you push even further and hold him there, fingers digging into his thighs. You start to gag and do your best not to pull off him, squirming to find any bit of friction and Joel moans at the sight, throwing his head back.

“Bein’ such a good girl, taking my cock so far down your throat, hm?” 

You moan and swallow around him, his hips jerking at the sensation and he pulls you off. “Almost too good,” he breathes, “know you’d love me coming down your throat, but not tonight.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you whine, moving back and forth on your knees.

“Stand up for me sweetheart,” and you rise, looking down at him, still catching your breath. His hands are back on you immediately, squeezing your waist, hips, ass — any part of you he can reach. He runs his fingers across your panties again, trailing them down over your covered clit and between your folds and you tilt forward into his touch.

“Soaked right through these pretty panties of yours,” he looks up to meet your gaze and there’s almost no colour to your eyes anymore, just pure blown-out pupils. He keeps rubbing his fingers along you and you whine again, clearly desperate for him to touch you properly.

He smirks up at you, “So needy just from sucking my cock.”

Joel shoves his hand under the elastic of your panties and rubs his fingers between your folds and over your entrance, coating his fingers in your arousal. He shoves two thick fingers into you without warning and you fall forward with a strangled moan, hands supporting your weight on his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out, your cunt tight around him.

“Always so wet for me, huh? Need me to make you feel good?” He stares at you, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he slows his hand and you force out a yes, your voice hoarse. He speeds up again and curls his fingers into that one spot he knows you can’t reach with your own hand, brushing over it again and again, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit.

Your legs start trembling and he pulls his fingers out and slips them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Taste so sweet.”

He moves his legs between yours and pulls you towards him and down onto his lap, guiding your hips back and forth over his length, precome leaking from his tip. He leans forward, “You gonna keep these on while you sit on my cock, yeah?” and tugs on the waistband of your panties, letting the elastic snap back against your skin. You nod frantically in response and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him haphazardly. He licks into your mouth and moans into you, hands firmly gripping your ass.

You rise slightly and he takes hold of his cock, stroking himself and pulls your panties to one side. He lines himself up with your entrance and you start to sink down, eyes screwing shut at the stretch. He holds you by the waist, your hands like a vice grip on his shoulders and it takes everything in him not to pull you down and make you take him to the hilt. You take your time working him in, inch by inch, and Joel can tell how close you are already, your broken moans getting louder and louder.

You’re fully seated and he takes a hand off his shoulder, plants a kiss on your knuckles and guides it between your bodies, spreading your fingers around where he’s splitting you open. “You feel how stretched you are, baby?” You gasp and he leans towards you and lifts his hand to grip across your chin, mouth ghosting yours and squeezes his hand to purse your lips. 

“Open,” he orders and your lips part, spitting into your mouth and he feels you tightening around him. Pushing his index finger into your mouth, you suck and swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you lift up and down, grinding yourself onto the trail of hair at the base of his cock. Joel feels your legs starting to give out underneath you and he watches you with hooded eyes. He pulls his finger from your mouth and wraps his arms around you, hands reaching down underneath your panties to grab your ass and spread you wider. He prods his finger at your tight hole and your eyes shoot open to look at him, desperate and needy.

“You gonna come for me?” You whine and nod, almost begging him with a please, over and over again. He pushes his finger in to just past his middle knuckle and you moan out wantonly, already completely wrecked. Joel feels your cunt clamp down on his cock and you come with a sob of his name, eyes shut and face contorted in pleasure as he whispers praises in your ear.

-

At some point in your post-orgasm haze, Joel moved the two of you onto the bed — you waiting on all fours and Joel's voice breaking through from somewhere behind you.

“Did good sweetheart, always do, but I’m not done with you.” His hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder in search of him and notice he’s still fully dressed — well, as fully dressed as he can be — and remember that’s what got you into this position in the first place. Dishevelled greying curls, only the last couple buttons holding his shirt together, wide chest on full display, sleeves rolled up, pants and boxer briefs sitting mid-thigh, his cock, thick and hard and leaking and you clench around nothing just at the sight.

Joel’s hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties down to the tops of your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin as it’s revealed. He spreads you with his hands and spits onto your pussy and you let out a choked moan. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds and the messy mix of arousal and spit and your last orgasm. You feel him notch at your entrance again, and he sheaths himself fully inside your cunt in one thrust, all but punching the air from your lungs and he groans. You feel the swell of his tummy pressed against you and his fingers digging into your ass as he spreads you open. “Look so beautiful like this, wish you could see it.”

He leans over you, breathing into your neck, “Always take my cock so well, baby.” He pulls out almost completely, snapping his hips back into you and you can already feel heat pooling at the base of your spine again as he pounds into you, fingers gripping your hips so hard he’s bound to leave bruises. He snakes a hand underneath you to rub your clit and you feel your legs start to tremble.

All you can think is Joel Joel Joel, and his voice cuts through the ringing in your ears, husky and breathless. “You gonna give me one more, yeah? Come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” and you all but see stars behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sweet praise. He stills as you come, his hands and affirming words keeping you grounded as you clench and gush around him.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up flush against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder and you’re not sure you can form words anymore, your chest heaving as you try to get your breathing back to normal. You turn your head towards him and he kisses you surprisingly gently.

“Can you be good just a bit longer?” He starts grinding his hips into you and you whine, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?” He drags his mouth along the side of your neck and you nod tiredly, feeling him smile.

He starts with slow thrusts, his grip around you the sole reason you’re still upright, his voice in your ear and hot breath on your neck and the heavy, familiar, drag of his cock in and out making you dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight around me sweetheart. Your favourite feeling, isn’t it? Being stuffed full of my cock?” He starts rambling on and you know he’s close. “You want me to come inside you? Want me to come inside your tight little pussy?”

“Yes, please. Please come inside me.”

He mumbles incoherently and you tighten your hands on his arms; his thrusts get harder and his arms stiffen in their hold around you and you feel him twitching as he starts to spill inside you, warmth coating your walls. He lowers you both to lie down as he comes down from his high, cock still buried deep inside you and you feel his spend start to leak out around him and down your thighs.

-

Shifting around and your eyes fluttering open, you’re wrapped up in Joel’s arms, head burrowed against his chest. You reach down and feel he’s cleaned you up and pulled fresh panties on you, a faint throbbing between your thighs. He stirs next to you and presses a kiss to your forehead, long and tender.

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you mumble and wrap an arm around his torso to press yourself into him even more.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin with a finger to look at him. “Sweetheart, think we’ve done this enough that I know you get sleepy afterwards. Stop apologising.” He cradles your cheek, kisses you sweetly and whispers, “Now go back to sleep.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction

[wosoimagines]

Second Chance

part 2 of rivals

Jo's second camp with the team is nearly over and she gets news of her future.

2,367 words

previous part| |next part

“Hi, kid.”

I grinned at the familiar voice as I closed the door behind me.

“Hey, Becky.”

The woman smiled at me as I threw my bag onto the open bed. I hadn’t exactly expected Jill to room me with Becky again, but it was nice. Becky had helped to make sure that I actually got to bed at a responsible time and that I wasn’t late to any meetings or practices. After all, it had been quite easy for me to get distracted by everything else.

“Did you get to go to the lake?”

“Yeah, we went for a couple of days,” I admitted.

Becky nodded at that before she turned back to the book that she was reading. I tilted my head as I read the title.

“ The Portrait of Dorian Gray ,” I read off the spin. Becky looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve never read it.”

“I could read it out loud, if you’d like.”

I smiled at Becky as I nodded. Becky looked back down at the book as I kicked my shoes off. 

“‘I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then--but I don't know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that Fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid, and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.’”

I grinned as Becky read the words on the pages. I knew that we had at least an hour, if not two, until our meeting started since they were still waiting on quite a few players to get into the hotel. I didn’t give Becky time to start the next paragraph as I crawled into her bed before ducking my head under her left arm so I could look at the pages. Becky stayed silent for a moment as I got comfortable.

It wasn’t until I had settled down and stopped moving that Becky continued.

“‘Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. Conscience is the trade name of the firm. That is all.’

‘I don't believe that, Harry, and I don't believe you do either. However, whatever was my motive--and it may have been pride, for I used to be very proud--I certainly struggled to the door. There, of course, I stumbled against Lady Brandon. 'You are not going to run away so soon, Mr. Hallward?' she screamed out. You know her curiously shrill voice?’”

Becky’s voice was definitely one of the most soothing voices I had ever heard. Maybe she could become a professional audiobook reader or something like that once she retired from playing. Or even just take it up during the off-season. I wouldn’t mind listening to Becky read me more books if her voice was always this soothing.

“‘Yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty,’ said Lord Henry, pulling the daisy to bits with his long, nervous fingers.

‘I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to Royalties, and people with Stars and Garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. I had only met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionize me. I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is the nineteenth-century standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. I am sure of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we were destined to know each other.’”

I couldn’t find it in myself to fight off the sleep as Becky’s voice lulled me into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, pipsqueak.”

I looked at Hope who had sat down across from me. I titled my head at her sudden presence. I knew that she often sat at the table with Carli and Christie during our meals. But they were both seated at a table that was behind Hope.

“Hi, Hope.”

I looked over my shoulder where most of the team was still getting their food. Being small did come with advantages, such as being small enough to get around everyone so I could be one of the first to get my food. I spotted Becky and Alyssa who were just now grabbing their own plates to fill them up. I turned back to look at Hope.

“Look, I just came to say that maybe you aren’t that bad.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. Hope complimenting me had been the last thing I was expecting. After all, we still weren’t getting along that well. It seemed like we both tolerated each other just enough for a fight not to break out during practice, but that didn’t stop the two of us from exchanging words during practice.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Hope said as she kept her eyes trained on her plate as she stabbed some of the food with her fork. “You still aren’t better than I am. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t helping us out.”

I stayed silent, causing Hope to look up at me. She just stared back at me. I was trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke or something.

“Who are you and what have you done with Hope Solo?”

Hope chuckled at that as she nodded.

“That’s cute, pipsqueak.”

“No seriously. Hope Solo would never compliment me. We go at each other’s throats,” I said as I shook my head. I turned my attention back to my plate. Hope had to be seriously sick if she was being nice to me all of a sudden. “Mine and Hope’s relationship does not consist of us being nice to each other. We’re like sweet potatoes and mustard. They don’t go together. I don’t give a shit what Mick says either. He’s a weirdo for eating sweet potatoes and mustard.”

“No, I’m serious, Jo,” Hope said. I paused at that before I looked up at Hope. “Can you just take the compliment?”

I shook my head. I really couldn’t.

At least not from Hope.

This was too weird. Hope wasn’t supposed to be nice to me. She wasn’t supposed to compliment me.

“Is everything okay over here?”

Hope and I both looked at Becky who took a seat next to me. I sent Becky a small smile before I turned back to Hope. I slowly nodded my head as I realized just what this was about.

“You’re being nice 'cause I saved your ass in the goal.”

“Jo! Language!”

I rolled my eyes at that. I already had a mom at home, I didn’t need Becky deciding to mother me while I was at camp too.

“No.”

“You said that way too fast for it to be true! This is about me saving you in the goal.” I grinned as I glanced at Alyssa who sat next to Becky. So it wasn’t because Hope actually wanted to get to know me. “You just feel bad that you tried acting all tough and like you could stop me and then you couldn’t back it up and I had to save the game against France so we didn’t draw again.”

“I don’t need help in the goal, pipsqueak .”

“Sure you don’t.”

It felt good knowing that Hope had felt bad after I saved her skin.

“You could have just said thank you.”

“Jo,” Becky said. I looked over at her as I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t too sure why she really cared what happened between Hope and me. “Just take the compliment.”

“But she’s only saying it because I made the stop on the goal line.”

“Jo. Take the compliment.”

My jaw slacked a bit at that. I couldn’t believe that Becky was actually taking Hope’s side.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I said once I eventually turned back to Hope. The goalie smirked at me as she stood up. I rolled my eyes as I lowered my voice. “Good thing you’re good at soccer. Cause the porch light’s on, but there ain’t no one home.”

It wasn’t until Hope was well out of earshot that I felt the hand connect with the back of my head.

“Ow!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t hear that comment,” Becky hissed quietly. I slumped back against my chair at that. I really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. “I get it. You don’t get along with Hope and you might never get along with Hope, but she’s our goalie. You are going to have to stop trying to provoke her.”

“She doesn’t treat me fairly. Why should I be the one to have to extend the olive branch?” I asked as I leaned forward to get closer to Becky. “She’s the adult. I’m only fifteen.”

“Jo-”

“No, it’s bullshit.”

“Langauge.”

“And I don’t need another mom. I already have one.”

Becky sighed as she leaned back in her own chair. I looked away from her. 

“What if I talk to Hope?”

Becky and I both looked over at Alyssa. I had honestly forgotten that she was sitting at the table with us because of how quiet she had been. It was something that Becky told me I would have to get used to though. 

“As if that would make it any better.”

“That would be great. Thank you, Alyssa.”

I huffed as I pushed myself away from the table. I had already finished my plate and if it gave me an excuse to be away from Alyssa and Becky right now, I would take it. I didn’t need everyone else fighting my battles for me. It was part of the problem. If everyone else fought my battles for me then no one would ever take me seriously.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, I heard that you and Hope got into it,” Jill said as I was wrapping my hand. I sighed as I looked up at her. “Is there a problem that I, as the coach, need to address between you two?”

“No.”

Jill nodded her head slowly as she still looked down at me as I finished wrapping my hand. I rubbed the bridge of my nose before looking back up at her.

“Is there anything else?”

“I really hoped that you and Hope would have gotten over this by now,” Jill said. I softly groaned as my shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll be honest with you, kid. I want to call you up for the August game and September-”

“I get it,” I assured her. I glanced at where the rest of the team was getting ready. Even though I had been friendly enough with Alyssa and Becky, the rest still seemed hesitant to get close to me. “Who wants a kid on their team when they’re the best in the world?”

“Jolene, that isn’t it.”

“Isn’t it?”

I looked away from Jill and down at my shoes. I knew that it was. It wasn’t the first time I had been left behind because I was the youngest one, and I doubted that it would be the last.

“Jo, you’re gonna be called to the U-20 team in just days,” Jill said as she bent down so that we were equal in height. “I encouraged them to do so. I think it would be a great opportunity.”

I looked back over to the rest of the team. But my eyes zeroed in on Hope. I knew what she would say when she found out that I wouldn’t be called to the team in August or September.

“The U-20 World Cup will be over before August. So what’s the point in keeping me out of the September camp?”

Hope would only boost and brag if I was gone longer than I needed to be. Plus, I didn’t want to lose the pace of play that came with the national team if I was gone for too long.

“Because you’re only fifteen, Jo. You will have to go to school and finish your education,” Jill said. I looked back at her. I didn’t care about that, I just cared about my future in soccer. “If your grades suffer too much, then I can’t call you up. You will be gone until late August if you guys make it to the finals.”

“So why have me go to the U-20 team instead of getting more practice with the senior team?”

“Because the U-20 team is going to a World Cup. It might not be the World Cup you were hoping for, but it will give you a taste of what it will be like next year,” Jill said as she sighed. I wondered if she would ever get tired of me and all my questions. “You’ll be expected to be a leader on the U-20 team as you’ve already been called up to the senior team. That will also be a good experience for you. I don’t expect that you’ll be seen as a leader on this team for years, maybe not until I’m gone even, but it will happen eventually, and leading a team at a World Cup, even a youth one, will be good for you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jill sighed as she patted my leg before standing up. If I had to prove myself to Jill at the youth level again, I was going to do it. Nothing would stop me from winning gold in August. Maybe then, the rest of the team would also start to see me as more than just some kid.

#uswnt imagine #woso imagine #leah williamson imagine #uswnt x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #uswnt imagines #woso imagines #leah williamson imagines #uswnt #woso #leah williamson

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 3

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, minor political conversation, minor mentions of sexual encounters.

It was the sound of your coffee pot automatically brewing that originally roused you from sleeping, the beeping signalling it was done the reason you finally got out of bed. Traipsing down the stairs still in your silk pj set you yawned, starting to stretch out your body, dropping your phone on the breakfast bar before padding through the living room to open the blinds. The sun slowly rising through the sky and you deemed it warm enough to crack one of the windows, letting yourself actually get some fresh air on a work day. Wandering back to the kitchen you pulled down a coffee mug, adding a bit of creamer from the fridge before filling it with coffee. Right as you went to take your first sip, your phone buzzed on the countertop and you let out a huff, scooping up the device to a text from Heather.

‘You can work from home, it’s a low day.’

‘Thank god. I really didn’t want to put real clothes on.’

‘Well you’ll have to at some point. You’ve got lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill at two.’

‘Who am I schmoozing for you?’

‘Emily Prentiss.’

‘The fed from yesterday? What’d’ you need with the FBI?’

‘She asked to meet with you. You’ll have to discuss it with her.’ ‘Put it on my card.’

‘Alright. Thanks.’

‘Wear that Tom Ford blouse I like so much.’

‘The blue one?’

‘It brings out your eyes.’

‘I’m beginning to think you might have ulterior motives going on here...’

‘Enjoy your lunch.’

You dropped the phone back onto the counter with a huff, knowing you weren’t getting another word out of her on the subject. It wasn’t unlike Heather to send you in to do a certain level of dirty work when it came to getting other politicians to do what she wanted. It was technically part of your job, she would simply just suggest you use your assets in a way she couldn’t to get them to lean her way, and it almost always worked. Still, you couldn’t possibly imagine what a Section Chief from the FBI would want with your skill set, surely the bureau had their own type of publicists to deal with whatever kind of a situation this was.

You glanced to the clock above the stove to find it was barely eight o’clock and nearly debated going back to bed but you knew that was a bad idea and turned to your coffee instead. You thought about what to do for breakfast while you grabbed your work phone and laptop from your bag, setting them up on the breakfast bar before opening the fridge. You settled on some easy eggs and avocado on toast and restarted the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot, turning on an instrumental playlist on your phone to get your day going and your brain running.

Finished with the food, you refilled your coffee and settled in at the counter to start sorting through emails, shooting one off to Heather with reminders of all the upcoming week’s appointments, meetings and appearances. The rest of the morning felt rather dull, the anticipation of lunch piquing your curiosity more often than not, sending you down spirals rather than focusing on your actual work. You caught yourself leafing through FBI websites and any news articles you could get your hands on, and considering the status you held, that was more than the general public.

Finally around eleven thirty your brain couldn’t get through another email and you opted to jump over to the gym for a quick workout to distract yourself for a bit. You left more than enough time to shower, making sure you were fresh and styled, selecting the blue blouse Heather had recommended before finally leaving your house.

Old Ebbitt Grill wasn’t far, it only took you ten minutes to get there, especially considering the lack of midafternoon traffic. You’d been there a few times before, a standard choice for business lunches among the elite of Washington, close enough to Capitol Hill that it was convenient but just far enough away that it was slightly more away from eavesdropping ears. You pulled up the drive in front and were offered valet service that you accepted, passing off a five for a tip before heading inside where you were greeted by a young bubbly hostess.

“Hi,” you smiled back, “reservation at two, could be under Walton, Prentiss or Dunbar. I think it’s only for two.”

Her finger began scanning through the reservation look in search of one of the names, “oh! There you are.” She beamed up at you, “Walton for two. You’re the first to arrive, would you like to wait or be seated?”

“I’ll sit.” You laughed softly, “god knows I could use a drink.”                                                    

“Of course, right this way.”

You were led past the bar area to the dining room and directed to a green velvet back booth, white table cloth adorning the table. You slid in as the hostess scooped up the extra place settings and wine glasses,

“Can I get something started for you?”

“Uh… two waters and a glass of pinot grigio would be fantastic, thanks.”

With another smile she was gone from the table and you were left to settle in, glancing at your watch you realized you were practically twenty minutes early and let out a soft sigh. Punctuality was almost too much of your strong point, but at least you were never late for things. You scanned the menu quickly, sliding it off to the side to pull out a work file that you’d been putting off looking through, thanking the server that came back with your drinks.

*

When Emily entered the restaurant she wasn’t entirely too sure what she was getting into, it almost felt weird to be doing this during the day, especially on what was technically a work day. She’d gotten an out of office lunch and work from home afternoon approved so she didn’t have to drive back, and it was Friday so she just kept telling herself it was an early weekend. The hostess picked up right away that she was meeting someone and offered up your last name to confirm before guiding her through the room.

The moment they were through the bar Emily had eyes on you, neatly tucked into a booth, a pen in your hand and a file folder in front of you that all your attention was focused on. Your hair was pulled back off your face but most of it still down and loosely styled. The make up on your face was slightly more detailed than it had been when she’d met you at the office, a little heavier around the eyes, a slightly less neutral lip. Your outfit hugged your frame, accentuating your body perfectly, blue top dipping slightly to expose a tasteful amount of cleavage, black pencil skirt leaving just enough leg out to be admired, and of course designer heels on your feet. It was all accented with a silver bracelet, necklace resting on the swell of your chest and jeweled earrings to match your shirt. You glanced up at the movement coming toward you, a smile taking over your face as you greeted her.

“Agent Prentiss,” you smiled as she slipped into the booth, “or, is that a demotion? Should it be Section Chief Prentiss?”

“That’s way too much of a mouthful.” She laughed, “just Emily’s fine.”

“Alright.” You shot her a grin, flipping the file shut and capping the pen before you slid it back into your purse, “sorry, work never ends.”

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” While she was concerned she may have been late, she was happy to see that you were completely content on your own, and that you took work on the go, already another green flag in her book.

“Oh not at all, I have a habit of being insanely early wherever I go.”

There was a slight pause as the server came over to ask about drinks and Emily glanced towards you, your eyes flicked to your half empty glass and you thought about it for a second.

“You may as well bring another one.”

“Heather okay with you drinking on the clock?” Emily asked with a small grin.

“Have you met a politician who doesn’t?” You laughed, “you know… I think that’s the biggest difference between our branches of government, you’re usually armed. The only weapons we carry are our words and nefarious blackmail.”

Emily chuckled at that, watching as you took a sip, “well I took a half day.” She turned to the server, “I’ll have a sauvignon blanc please.”

A few moments later they returned with Emily’s wine and the two of you placed an order for a round of appetizers consisting of scallops, beet and burrata, calamari and the bread service. Conversation flowed easily enough, chatting here and there about the day, how the weather seemed to finally be warm enough to enjoy being outside, little tidbits about work. Emily found joy in the fact that you could keep up with her when she mentioned work, that it didn’t take an extra three tangents of explaining details for you to understand what she meant. By the time the food came out, the two of you were fully comfortable around each other and after a bite of a scallop, you decided to make the jump to attempt to get to the point.

“So, I know I’ve heard that the BAU’s in a bit of hot water right now, but I didn’t think you needed a full PR takeover. Don’t you have your own communications team for those kind of things?”

Emily stalled, quickly popping a piece of calamari into her mouth to spare her a few seconds to figure out how to start things. “Uhm….” She swallowed the food down, chuckling awkwardly, “that’s not exactly why I wanted to meet. Heather… recommended you for something else.”

“Ah…” You leant back against the booth, your elbow draping over the back of it, “I knew Heather had ulterior motives about today but I didn’t realize she was passing me off to utilize the extra skill set.” You chuckled, having now figured out exactly what Emily was alluding to, but you weren’t going to let her off that easy, you wanted to hear her say it. The corner of your lips twitched up at the way she tensed across the table from you and you went in with another tease and false lead. “You want to know what other PR teams I’m close with, whose assistants have loose lips or an axe to grind, dig up a little dirt on someone. Director Bailey? AG? Who’s the thorn in your side, hmm?”

The knot in her stomach burst at the latter part of your sentence, suddenly distracted she glanced up at you with a furrowed brow, “wait, you could really get in with the AG for me?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of wine, “she thinks she’s a good friend, would you like me to do some nosing around?”

“No, no.” She waved you off, “that could get you in trouble.”

“Emily, believe me, with most of them all you need is a few too many glasses of wine, a little flattery, maybe a hint of an illegal substance and they’ll tell you whatever you want.”

She let out a low laugh, “I’m going to ignore that last part.” You chuckled as she picked up her wine, taking another sip while you scooped up another scallop. “You certainly have some kind of pedigree, don’t you?”

“I had a lot of ladders to climb to get where I am now, and a decent education and quick thinking always helps.”

“Was PR always the goal, or did you have your eye on Capitol Hill?” She asked and you nearly snorted.

“Where I am is where I want to be. Communications Major at UCONN, followed by a stint at Georgetown.”

“What does a ‘stint’ consist of?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Just a little law degree, never really intended to use it just wanted the knowledge.”

“Did you write the bar?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, taking another sip of wine, “passed with flying colours. Just never really saw myself as a lawyer, fighting in courtrooms isn’t my style.”

“So why bother with the extra three years then?”

You shrugged, “Heather paid for it. Said if I was overqualified for a role I could bargain for better pay.”

“Wow…” Emily’s eyes widened, “she must really like you.”

“We’ve known each other a long time. She always knew she wanted me working for her in some capacity and she needed someone who she could trust, someone who was going to know what they were doing and was right for the field. When you work for Dunbar you have to fit the brand. Now making sure that brand is upheld is my job, she had to start with someone.”

“You enjoy working for her? She’s a good boss?”

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, “being on her payroll is better than any other politician in the country, maybe even the world. She has a much higher level of expectations that always need to be met, she knows quality, she knows class and she demands it out of everyone. So she supplements with extras to make sure we know how appreciated we are and to keep us loyal.”

“Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”

“She always does.” You leant forward, bracing your elbow on the table so your chin could rest in the palm of your hand, “which is why I know whatever she suggested I help you with is exactly what you need. But I’m starting to feel like I have to sign an NDA to even have this conversation.”

Emily sucked in a deep breath letting out a sigh before reaching for her wine glass, “well… I am hoping for a certain level of discretion and the previous couple of times I’ve tried this it didn’t exactly work in my favour.” She glanced back across the table to find your head still perched on your hand, eyes full of curiosity as you looked back at her and she nearly gulped.

“Do tell… what is it you want from me Agent Prentiss?” Your voice was lowered, both an attempt to get her to own up and to make sure you weren’t overheard, “I work in PR, I know how to uphold an image and believe me, I know how to keep a secret.”

She swallowed down a gulp of wine before slowly beginning to speak, “I’m… looking for someone who is willing to spend a night or two a week together, could be friendly company, could be more if you’re comfortable. And I’m willing to pay.” She winced, suddenly stopping herself, “wait, that sounded bad.”

You chuckled softly, smiling across the table at her to urge her to continue.

“Basically, I’ve got a bit of spare time and extra finances. I need someone who understands I can’t always be around, that work can and will upend plans constantly and suddenly. Someone who values privacy. I don’t have time to do the whole dating thing, the strings that come along with that.”

“Casual intimacy in exchange for fancy dinners, pricey jewels and lavish vacations?” You murmured softly, your head tilting in her direction and she nodded, “well… now we’re finally on the same page.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?”

Your eyes slowly raked over her, taking in her beauty, a small grin on your lips as you nodded, “Mmhm.”

“And the stipulations that come along with my work?”

“Not an issue. As you know, I have my own career and working for Heather can be a twenty four seven, seven days a week job and similar to yours, it includes a lot of travel. Discretion is easily attainable and I know how to uphold a certain image.”

“Good.” She let out a low huff of a laugh, “the last couple of dates I went on before this were garbage.”

“Mmm… I think you likely got caught with the ‘professional’ babies… they don’t want to work; they just want to get paid for being hot.” You rolled your eyes, “they don’t care about careers, they want to be center of attention at all times.”

“And lord knows I don’t have the time or patience for any of that.”

Before you could reply your phone began a series of buzzes on the table top, your eyes flicking to the lit screen and you sighed, “hold on, it’s Heather.” You picked up the device to swipe open the text chain, half muttering to yourself, “bitch said I could work from home today but god knows I can’t go twenty four hours without having to put out a fire.”

“Duty calls?” Emily asked with a near grin, watching as you finished your wine.

“Unfortunately.” You cast a smile in her direction, “and right as we were getting to the good part, sorry.”

“No apology necessary, go. I’ll take care of this.” She gestured to the table.

“Are you sure?”

“All things considered; I think it’s my responsibility.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, popping your phone back into your purse as you slid out of the booth, “you have my number?”

“I do.” She nodded, “I’ll make a reservation for next Friday, we can do dinner and discuss this further?”

“Of course.” You smiled at her, “I’ll see you Friday Emily.”

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #emily prentiss fanfic #criminal minds fanfic

[jasontoddenthusiastt]

On the subject of gotham county line and batman noel and so on and so forth it’s pretty frustrating (from a watsonian pov) that anytime Bruce hallucinates Jason being loving/ caring/helpful/compassionate towards him it’s always as robin and never as his current self

#it's ironic because Jason as robin never got the chance to become as obedient & devoted (malleable) to Bruce as he currently is #which is a result of being abused/manipulated for a more prolonged period of time #“maybe if I try harder and do it right this time he'll finally see the truth” #classic abuse tactic #no matter how well the victim fits the mold set by the abuser they’ll never acknowledge it #rather if they see you trying they’ll push harder and tell you you’re not perfect #the small shreds of affection here and there are important for motivating the victim to keep trying #kelseethe #Jason initiating the hug in rhato 27 after Bruce insinuated that those beatings will be a regular occurence bc he deems it a necessity #continuing to support Bruce even after Ethiopia and sticking around to help get Damian back #eagerly cooperating with Bruce + co in event leviathan then getting surprise pikachu faced/hurt after being betrayed #making a conscious decision to comfort Bruce in gotham war after Bruce fucked him up and left him behind #having undying conern for Bruce's wellbeing while Bruce regularly endangers his life #ex. Bruce's weird habit of committing vehicular assault on Jason whenever they're on the road demonstrated both in tfz and gotham war #point being: Jason was much more psychologically fit to be defiant towards Bruce when he was robin compared to now #he's more of a “good son”™ now than he was as robin Bruce is just too used to thinking whatever he wants and never being satisfied #the only times Jason got mad/upset at Bruce during one issue and continued to stay mad until the next #other than lost days and utrh was batman 410-411 and early in aditf before Bruce helps Jason find Sheila #so much worse has happened since then and all that just magically became water under the bridge off-panel

[gwennybriggs]

Abracadabra:

Link if you want it:

Or! You can read it here :)

Word count: 1,475

Inspired by a line from a Chappell Roan song that’s been stuck in my head for weeks.

It’s a little spicy, but not too spicy! I’m not super comfortable writing smut, but decided to try it out again since it’s been a few years. Enjoy, cuties!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The birds were chirping and the sun was shining bright when you woke up that morning; you knew it was going to be a wonderful day. You rolled out of bed, pulled on your skirt and blouse, and waltzed out the door to make a stop at the coffee shop down the street. It had become your normal Friday routine to stop and grab a hot chocolate for yourself, and a coffee for your favorite coworker, Melissa Schemmenti. In turn, Melissa would bring a danish for you and a muffin for herself. You weren’t exactly sure when or how it happened, but you looked forward to it every week.

It had been a bit of a stressful week with state testing and the kids were over it just as much as the teachers were. Janine convinced Ava to allow her to set up a talent show as a ‘carrot’ for the end of testing week.

“Carrot? What the hell you mean, carrot? Ain’t nobody lookin’ for a vegetable, girl.”

Janine rubbed her temples, “You know, like when you put a carrot in front of a horse to keep them moving. It’s a little motivation to get people through the week.”

“Whatever. You can have a talent show, just make sure Melissa stays off the stage with her horrific impressions. I simply cannot listen to her butcher The Godfather again.”

You prepared all week to share your magic tricks with the school. Jacob caught wind and asked if you would like to join him in his magic act, claiming that your combined expertise would win you more applause. You reluctantly agreed and spent all of Thursday evening with him at Melissa’s house practicing. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the redhead had been there, but she spent the evening with Barbara instead.

You could smell Melissa’s perfume before you even stepped foot in the lounge and it made you smile. During your first year at Abbott you developed the tiniest crush on her, but at this point, you were flat out in love with the woman. You didn’t exactly hide the fact that you liked her that way, but you never said it out loud either. Melissa had told you she was bisexual but leaned more towards men fairly early on in your friendship when you told her you were a lesbian. After sharing a bottle of wine together you asked her what her type was.

“Big burly men with beards who can take care of me or pretty little ladies who with let me take care of them. What about you? So I know what to look out for for ya,” she responded with a chuckle.

You fought yourself not to reply with a simple ‘you’ and gave her a vague description of herself instead. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. The two of you shared some casual flirting over time, but you just chalked it up to her treating you like a close friend.

The lounge was already buzzing when you walked in, everyone talking about what their students were doing for their acts or which teachers signed up. You crossed the room to set your things down before walking over to Melissa to exchange goods. She beamed up at you when you placed your hand on her shoulder and her cup on the table in front of her.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, thanks doll face,” she sipped her coffee and handed you a raspberry danish.

“Likewise! Thanks, pumpkin.” You winked at her and took your seat across the room with Janine, Gregory and Jacob, completely missing Melissa’s coy smile in response to the nickname.

The bell rang and everyone gathered their belongings to start the day. You and Melissa were the last ones in the room as you moved things in the fridge to fit your lunch. She came up behind you, resting her hand on your hip for balance as she leaned into the fridge with you to move her containers. You froze at the contact and mentally begged yourself not to blush. As she leaned further down, her hand slid over to your ass. Your eyes were glued to her cleavage, beautifully illuminated by the refrigerator light. You quickly turned your head when she caught you staring.

She stood up, her hand still slightly splayed your ass. Your face was beet red. “No need to steal glances hon, all you gotta do is ask,” she clicked her tongue and made her way out the door, swaying her hips dramatically. She knew you were watching.

More than a little flustered, you splashed cold water on your face and left to tend to your students. The hours ticked by and you struggled to focus on anything other than the feeling of Melissa’s hand on your backside. You were looking forward to spending lunch with her and Barbara, but Jacob insisted you practice with him one more time before the talent show. Between bites of pasta you made coins disappear and reappear from behind Jacob’s ear and cheered him on as he mastered revealing the chosen card.

The entire school gathered to watch the staff and students perform at the end of the day. You took a seat next to Melissa, waiting for your turn.

“You got any hidden talents you’re gonna share with us, red?” You poked at her side.

“Nah, can’t share my talents here kid. I wouldn’t be allowed back on school grounds,” she smirked. “Just joshin’, Ava forbade me from doing impressions so I’m stuck in the crowd. I’m excited to see what youse cooked up for your act though, Jacob hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Ha, I’m sure he hasn’t.”

Janine introduced your act and you followed Jacob onto the stage. The two of you played off of each other’s tricks with the crowd ooh-ing and aww-ing. You had always enjoyed tricking people with sleight of hand, but you enjoyed it even more when you were able to fool an entire auditorium. When the four minutes of fame were over you returned to your seat next to Melissa. She nodded her approval and continued to watch the show.

A few minutes later you excused yourself to use to restroom. The bathroom was empty and you did your business quickly. As you opened your stall door you jumped at the sight of Melissa sitting on the counter. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“Oh Jesus!”

“It’s actually Melissa, but I get that one a lot.” She slid off the counter to stand next to you as you washed your hands.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes.

She moved closer, her breasts brushing your arm. “Yeah, but you like it when I’m cheesy like that.”

Your breathing hitched. “I d-do,” you stuttered and melting at the close proximity.

“So, tell me what else you like, gorgeous.” She was nearly straddling your right leg. Her eyes filled with fire as she brought her hand up to your cheek and traced a finger along your jaw line.

You stifled a whimper and bit your lip, unable to speak without making a fool of yourself. She moved even closer, now actually straddling your leg, you could feel the warmth of her. You placed your hands on the counter to keep yourself upright.

“I know you like magic.” She nuzzled her face into your hair and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.” She punctuated her sentence with a light nibble to your earlobe. You gasped; a cold chill ran up your spine and you couldn’t hide the shiver. Her hand on your left hip pulled you in between her legs so that her core was pressed firmly against your thigh.

You squeezed your eyes shut, you wanted her to ruin you right then and there, but the school day wasn’t over and the talent show was about to let out.

“Mel, I want this,” you whined and guided her free hand down to your soaked panties, wanting her to feel exactly how bad you wanted, needed, her. “But we can’t do that here, not now at least. Like you said, we wouldn’t be allowed back on a school grounds.”

She lifted your skirt so you could feel her own wetness through her leggings against your bare skin. “My house, eight o’clock.” Melissa kissed you with such fervor that it made you want to go back on your words. “Bring whatever other magic tricks you have up your sleeve, or in your nightstand drawer,” she winked and playfully smacked your ass as she walked away.

You tried desperately to gather your thoughts and some semblance of composure, your mind racing with the image of Melissa playing with her toys- and you. The redhead was going to be the death of you yet.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #jacob hill #ava coleman #janine teagues #magic tricks #red wine supernova

[arcanefox207]

The Wolf You Feed (Part 2)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 5.6k

Part 2 / ? (Ongoing Series)

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Warnings: No Outbreak, AU but with TLoU characters, Large age gap (Reader is 29. Joel is 50). Pet names but no use of Y/N. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. POV Switching. Series contains Angst and lots of Smut (to avoid chapter specific spoilers you can expect things such as but not limited to Unprotected PiV, Cream Pies, Oral, Masturbation, Dom!Joel, Subby reader, Pining, Infidelity) 

A/N: In case you are just jumping in, you can read Part 1 here. Part 2 is more smut heavy! I aim to have Part 3 out much sooner as time allows!

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated and give me the motivation to write 🧡

Without further ado... for your reading pleasure.

It’s late on Saturday morning and you have a pot of coffee brewing while you shower. You stand in the stream of hot water far longer than you need to. Your thoughts shrouded by your evening with Joel Miller. How rough but passionate his touch was. How he made you get on your knees for him. How he tasted and how badly you wanted… needed  more of him. Your hands trace over tender spots where he held onto you and you relish the memory. 

He tested your obedience and you followed his orders. You hope it turned him on as much as it did you. You liked surrendering yourself to him. Despite his roughness you felt safe with him. You couldn’t explain it yet but you could feel that his burly facade was hiding something softer. 

You finally step out onto the cool tile and dry off in front of the mirror. You pat your hair down with your towel and when the steam starts to dissipate you catch how happy you look. An old you that you have not recognized for a long, long time. 

You smile to yourself and resolve to put Joel out of your mind for now or nothing would be getting done today. 

The coffee helps wake you up enough to plan out your morning. There is a light coating of fresh snow and the sky looks gray and ominous. A big storm is expected to hit overnight so you head into town to pick up some food and provisions. You make a quick stop at Grind when you see Marlene’s car parked in front.

There are a few customers and you are surprised to see Marlene working. By her expression, she wasn’t too pleased to be there.

“Hey!” You greet her as you approach the counter. “You got stuck working today?”

“Yeah, someone called out.” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t feel too bad for me, it’s your turn next.” she jokes. A teenager is busy checking out a customer and another is making a latte. Marlene steps away for a moment to chat with you.

“So…” she prods. “How did it go?” You fail to hide your smile and thoughts of Joel overtake you once again. 

“It went… great.” 

“When can I meet him?” 

You laugh nervously at her question.

“Lets not jump ahead. Right now it’s just something… casual.” 

She is skeptical of your reply and stares at you for a moment, trying to will more out of you, but you don’t give in. 

“Ok. Whatever you say.” She rolls her eyes again. “I have to get back to work, but you are going to have to tell me sooner or later.” She points at you and furrows her brow. 

“Yeah, Yeah.” You joke. “See you Monday!”

You leave the shop and cross the street to the grocery store. The place is mobbed and the shelves wiped out of the most in demand items. You grab a few things and chat with your mom who calls you to check in. Rather, to tell you all about her excursions and gossip about people you have never even met. You don’t mind and just tell her things are going well, you like your job and let her ramble on, not really listening. Mindless chatter in your ears while you shop. 

She does catch you off guard when she mentions hearing about the storm and “Joel will plow for us if we ask him to” casually. Your ears perk at the mention of his name but you act cool and collected. You don’t like the way she volunteers his services so nonchalantly. It strikes a nerve in you and reminds you of how she always insinuates you are incapable of being responsible. It makes you feel defensive for Joel, too. Her disregard for his time further illustrating how self centered she is. This was one of the factors that pushed you away for so many years. 

“Your father will call him later—” 

Absolutely not. You interrupt her sternly mid-sentence. 

“Mom. I will take care of it.” The last thing you want is your parents harassing Joel or trying to control you from across the country. This was a string you needed to make clear was not going to be attached to your current living arrangement.

“I have things under control.” 

“Oh… ok then.” Her tone is short and then she is off talking about her beach plans again. This goes on for another 10 minutes and by now you are in the checkout line. You say your goodbyes and calculate another week or two before you have to do that all over again. 

You hadn’t really considered the snow aftermath but you had a shovel and your car would be good enough to get out of your driveway… probably. You were not going to bother Joel regardless. 

The call puts you in a bad mood as you drive home. The spitting snow reminds you of the impending storm. The cheerful start of the day is gone and replaced with a heavy feeling.

You drive past Joel’s house and wonder if he is home and what he is doing. Wonder if you should call him. Wonder why he has not reached out to you either. You don’t want to be that girl. It’s not like you and him are anything. You shouldn’t be expecting anything from him. However, you still feel a faint sting of disappointment. Maybe he had his fun and that was it. Self doubt poisons your mind but you try to swallow it back. 

The rest of the day you spend eating junk food and watching movies on Netflix. You fall asleep on the couch early in the night before forcing yourself into bed. The wind and snow has ramped up and your power flickers. 

You pull your comforter tightly over you and take one last look at your phone but you already know there is nothing from Joel. 

Saturday Night (Joel POV)

Joel sits up in his loft on his worn out couch, strumming his guitar. He takes a sip of his whiskey, neat, and poorly mouths the words to his song. 

He plays a few more riffs but feels distracted and unfocused. All attempts to keep busy have been ineffective today. He spent the afternoon preparing his truck and stacking firewood. Once that work was done he had nothing but free time.

The truth is, you have been on his mind. It was hard not to think about you. He had only explored the tip of the iceberg with you and wanted more. He knew it wasn’t right to pursue you for a magnitude of reasons, but the desire was not waning. He felt things with you that he had not felt in a long time. Feelings he was afraid to give in to.      

Joel replaces the guitar in his hands with his phone and hovers your name in the recent contacts.  This isn’t the first time today he has almost called you. 

What are you doing, stupid. He thinks to himself. 

He shuts down the moment of weakness and locks his phone. He knocks back the last of his whiskey and heads downstairs. He turns on his TV to the local news and listens to them fuss over the storm. He knew tomorrow would be a busy one for him with his side hustle as the plow guy many locals depended on. Just another thing to keep him busy. 

He goes to take a shower before calling it an early night.

The shower is hot and comforting and in no time his mind is wandering back to you. He thought about your brief evening together and how intriguing you were. How bold you were. How tight you were when he was fingering you and how needy you sounded.  

He puts a fist against the shower wall to brace himself and hangs his head low so his shoulders block the bulk of the water. He uses his free hand to wrap around his semi-hard cock. He remembers your playful hold on him and gently strokes himself. It doesn’t take very long to get hard as he relives that moment in his mind. His strokes get harder and faster and he wishes he was fucking into you and not his own hand.

He groans as he comes and watches his spend drip down the shower walls and into the drain. His few moments of bliss quickly fade away. He balls his fist in frustration at his unfulfilling release. He needs more. He needs you. 

Your Sunday morning begins with anything but peace and calm. You are startled awake by the grinding sound of heavy metal dragging across pavement. You look outside your bedroom window and see the snow has blanketed everything and there are still a few lingering flurries dancing in the sky. The trees are struggling with bent over branches coated in ice and snow. 

Leaving your warm and cozy blanket fortress is the last thing you want to do. You lazily grab a hoodie to pull over your oversized shirt you slept in and your pajama shorts and make your way to the front of the house. The floor is cold on your feet but the air is warm. You cranked the thermostat before bed, making you feel rebellious in the moment but it seemed silly and wasteful now.

You look out the front window that faces the driveway. There you see Joel Miller in his truck, plow attached, barreling towards you and crashing into a snowbank he started building up. He looked so serious and professional backing up his truck with an arm stretched across his seat as he looked over his shoulder. He was so focused he was not aware you were watching him and his scowl at work. 

It doesn’t take long before that familiar ache between your legs returns. The longing to let Joel have his way with you. A desire that is getting harder and harder to ignore.

The realization that you look like you just woke up from bed hits and you scramble to the bathroom to run a comb through your hair and brush your teeth. You can hear the drag of the plow continue as you finish up and then rush to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. The stove clock reads 7:32am. Way too fucking early for a Sunday morning.

You hear his truck door slam and the sound of crunchy snow under his boots. He is walking with a heavy foot and grabs the shovel leaning by your door.

Joel is shoveling your walkway, weaving a modest path for you to get from your house to your driveway without trudging through the snow. You can hear him grunt as he tosses the heavy snow out of the way. What would have taken you probably an hour takes him just a few minutes. 

He plunges the shovel into a snowbank when he reaches the end of the path and leans on it to catch his breath. He looks exhausted and rightfully so. You want to comfort him in whatever way you can. At least offer him some respite to show your appreciation. As much as you hate to admit it, you would have been totally fucked if you had to tackle your driveway with your inadequate self. Joel saves the day, again.

You crack open the front door and call out to Joel, reluctantly interrupting his moment of peace. 

“Hey!” 

He slowly turns in your direction when he hears your voice. His eyes scrunch as he makes out your figure hanging out the door. He gives a lazy wave of acknowledgment. 

“Come inside and warm up? I made coffee.” 

He picks up the shovel to return it and makes his way towards you. 

“Yeah, ok. Just for a minute” He follows you inside.

Joel closes the door hard behind him and scuffs his boots on the mat to get off any snow. He brushes his hand quickly over the top of his head to knock off any lingering snow and unbuttons his jacket. He empties his pockets and puts his wallet and phone on the end table. He saunters over to you as you hand him a fresh cup of coffee, black. 

“Thanks.” He manages a smile. He returns to the living room and groans as he lowers himself to the couch. He recklessly sips his piping hot beverage and seems immune to the searing heat and delighted to have it.  He rests his mug on the table and leans back and closes his eyes. His hand comes up to his brow as he pinches his thumb and finger together across his eyes.   

You lean against the doorway between the rooms and sip your coffee. You notice how tired and worn he looks. His damp hair is shiny. His heat is melting the last few snowflakes and making him look messy and wet. His jacket is open and disheveled and his flannel undershirt is haphazardly draping on him as he slouches back. 

Despite all that he is still as handsome as ever and you like seeing him this way. Vulnerable in this out-of-character state. 

“Tired.” He grunts with his eyes closed and it snaps you out of your thoughts. “Been a long morning.” 

You take a few steps towards him to close the gap.

“I’m too old for this.” He sneers as he looks at you with lazy, heavy lids.

“You didn’t have to worry about me, you know…” Your voice trails off as you wonder if he was there on his own volition. You can’t help but ask. You need to know.

“Did… did my dad call you?” 

“No.” he answers firmly with a suspicion in his tone, almost sounding offended. 

“Good. I mean, thank you. That was really nice of you to come over.” You pause and smile at him. You feel guilty, but also have never had someone so capable looking out for you before.  

“I was going to shovel it.” 

He raises his brow at the ridiculous claim.

“No you weren’t. Wouldn’t have let you if I saw ya out there.”

“Well.. Thank you.” 

“S’nothing. I don’t mind… having an excuse to see ya.” His brows raise and wrinkle in the middle. He has a softened expression as he looks into your eyes. 

Your heart skips a beat and is heavy in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it beating. Having an excuse to see you. You replay it in your mind. He wants to see you. You feel stupid for getting carried away thinking otherwise.    

You put your coffee down next to his and casually walk around to the back of the couch. There is a force compelling you to comfort him. Encourage him to relax. That fluttering feeling in your stomach surges. Joel Miller is exhausted on your couch and isn’t going to be putting up much of a fight if you fuss over him and you want to fuss over him. 

You stand behind him and reach your arms down and spread them slowly from his shoulders down to his sides. He lets out a tiny moan as you circle his taut muscles. You pinch and massage them as you go. You lean forward and bring your mouth just behind his ear. 

“You don’t need an excuse to see me.” It comes out softly and seductive. You can feel his body tense under your words. 

You rake your hands back up to his shoulders and curl your fingers under his open jacket. He halfway cooperates as you tug the jacket off his shoulders and pull it away from him. It's wet and heavy and most of the snow has melted into it by now. You toss it on the back of the couch and return to his shoulders. Your hands massage him and you can feel his muscles tight and knotted under your grasp. His head tilts back into the couch as he lets you tenderly work him.

“Feels good. Really good.” He says in a low, almost inaudible tone. His exhaustion has let his body surrender to you and he isn’t fighting to be in control. 

You lean forward again and plant your mouth on his jawline with a sensual kiss. His damp whiskers prickle your cheek as you drag it against him and go to his ear.

“Let me take care of you.”

He makes a deep, throaty sound in response. 

His flannel is damp and hot and he looks so uncomfortable and stuffy now that he has been inside a while. You slide one of your hands down to his chest and unbutton his shirt. You are halfway down and he reaches his arm up and curls his fingers behind your neck, pulling you down to his mouth. You can feel the shift in the room, like you woke a sleeping bear. 

“Come here.” He uses his free hand to tap his lap and loosens his grip on you.

You walk around to the front of the couch and stand in front of Joel. His legs are spread and he is still lazily slouched back but he motions for you to join him. His half unbuttoned shirt teases you with his thermal undershirt peeking out, still hiding his bare skin. At least you are getting closer.   

You step towards him and move to straddle him on the couch. You have a leg on each side and he puts a hand on each hip under your baggy sweatshirt. 

His hold is tender but makes you melt when you feel the wingspan his fingers have on you. His thumbs brush over your hip bones and trace down to the soft skin just above the crease of your thigh as he casually dips them along your waistband. His touch sends sparks through your skin. 

He lazily stares you down with a narrow gaze over his nose, still resting his head back. 

“Keep going.” He closes his eyes as your focus goes back to finish unbuttoning his shirt.   

As you get close to his jeans you can feel him hardening and straining against the zipper.

You pop open the button and carefully unzip him. His cock springs loose in his boxer shorts. It teases you behind the cloth barrier and you reach for his waistband so you can grab a hold of him. His fingers dig into your sides and he pushes you back slightly to make you stop. He fights through the laziness and is now fully alert. 

“You want my cock?” He grits through his teeth.  “Think it’ll fit in your pretty pussy?” He drags one of his hands to your center and grabs you through the fabric. He smirks as he can feel you are wet and damp through your thin sleep shorts. His fingers sneak into the leg hole of your shorts and he teases your clit through your cotton underwear. You clench remembering the stretch from his thick fingers deep inside you just the other night.

“Yes–” your words catch in your throat as he pushes your underwear aside and thumbs over your folds. He barely touches you and opts to tease you instead, deliberately feathering over your swollen clit. You reach down to grab the wrist of his occupied hand and grind into his fingers. Your body craves the friction. 

“Fuck me, Joel.” 

His eyes darken and with a devilish smirk he takes his hand back and watches as you slide off him to take off your clothes. He looks at your body with a sleazy ferocity. If any other guy looked at you that way you would have slapped him, but not Joel Miller. You want his attention and you like the way it makes you feel when he is eyeing you like a starving wolf.

You pull off your hoodie and shirt and toss them to the piles of clothes building up on the floor. You stand in front of him completely naked. Exposed.  Joel brings out a side of you that makes you feel confident and bold. The way he looks at you with intrigue and desire encourages you. You take a brief moment to tease him back and drag your hands over your breasts and one continues down to your cunt. 

Joel stirs in his seat. He is so easy to rile up. He pulls off his flannel and kicks off his boots. His thermal long sleeve remains hugging his body in all the right places. He arches forward as his hand grabs his thermal from the back and pulls it off over his head. It makes a prickly, staticy sound as it brushes over his hair. He tosses it to the ground and for the first time you can fully take in his body without so many layers hiding him. 

His broad shoulders and chest taper down to a narrowed waist. His body is rugged and defined. For an older man his physique had been well maintained thanks to his lifestyle. His tanned skin and his messy, dark hair with silver streaks sends tingles through you. You have never been so physically drawn into someone before on a level that almost felt primal. 

His eyes sweep your body up and down as he drags his thumb along the side of his mouth and rakes his fingers through his scruff on his chin. He bites his lip while he drinks you in. 

“Damn, baby.”  He curls his thumbs inside the band of his jeans and tugs them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off his legs and reaches towards you, wrapping around the back of your thigh and beckons you to return to him. 

“Come ‘ere”

Your eyes gape as you take in his sheer size. It is intimidating but makes you ache with desire. 

You are back in his lap straddling him with little coercion needed. You stretch an arm behind you to hold yourself up and the other touches yourself. This position lets him take all of you in; bare, exposed and wanting. Wet and needy for him. 

His hand reaches for his throbbing cock. He palms himself with a few labored strokes. He is already beading precome at the tip. You feel a pang of jealousy and wish it was your body wrapped around him. He catches the hungry way you are looking at him. You catch how much he likes it. 

“You wanna ride this cock?” He brushes the tip against your opening and you let out a whimper in response and lurch forward. You brace yourself on his forearm and your other hand pushes against his chest to keep yourself upright. His skin is firm as you grip into him. His body hot and radiating like a furnace.    

“Haven’t gotten you off my mind since Friday.” He confesses. “Thinking about how tight my cock would fit in you.” He teases you with the tip again. Your whimper grows into a needy moan making him harder. Making him want you that much more. 

He crudely spits into his hand and rubs it along his shaft and then he notches it at your entrance. You can feel your body begging to be filled with him and you’ve been wet since you woke up to him in your driveway. You’ve lost count how many times you imagined Joel fucking you. He puts his hands back on your hips with a rough grip and you move your hands to his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself onto him. He helps keep you steady. 

“Joel! Fuck–” You moan. His thick cock sears your skin as it stretches you. He is slowly splitting you open inch by inch and you have never felt more full. He lets you control the pace for now, with pained restraint. He searches your eyes to make sure it isn’t too much. He knows he is a lot to take but the slowness is making him go insane. 

Joel lets out a grunt as he gets closer to bottoming out inside you. Your walls clench around him and the sweet pain from the stretch subsides as your body adjusts to his size. You slowly ride him up and down until you have him fully sheathed inside you. Your body is so full you don’t even have room to form complete thoughts. You can only focus on his burning hot heat inside you, tearing you open. Every moment before this pales in comparison.

“Fuck. So tight.” he snarls. His grip on you tightens as he pulls your body up and then thrusts into you, hard. He keeps the pace slow but more forceful than you were. He tries to be gentle but you can feel his patience slipping away.

One hand drags to his biceps where sweat is glistening. As he lifts you his muscles flex and contract he makes it seem so effortless to maneuver your smaller frame. Everything about Joel is big and strong and rigid. The epitome of masculinity.

Each thrust up into you makes you dizzy. You can feel yourself on the verge of orgasm, cock drunk and blissed-out. His heavy breathing and hitches in his voice send you over the edge as he pounds up into you. You ride the wave as he fucks you through it. Your arms entangle in each other and your bodies slap together, sweaty and panting. Your incoherent words and moans heighten with each thrust.

He makes you feel alive and pleasured in a way that you have never felt before. It is intoxicating. 

As you start to come down from the high you feel him getting close to his own release but he is still reserved and careful with you. Through gritted teeth he tries to keep his pace steady and builds you back up, never quite letting you recover.  

“Joel, Don’t… don’t hold back.” You manage to get out of your lips. You stare into him with hooded eyes and can only imagine how fucked out you look. He brings one of his hands up to the side of your face and strokes his thumb tenderly across your cheekbone.

“Ok, baby.” 

He leans into you and in a sweeping motion he twists and lays you back into the adjacent couch cushion. It is more of an oversized loveseat and not very ideal. He barely loses contact with your body as he positions himself above you. You can feel his weighty cock press into you and pin you in place as he leans forward, crowding you in the cramped confines of the couch.  

His mouth is on yours; rough and messy. He bites at your lip as he pulls away and reigns in his focus. Your legs clamp around his sides and your arms hold onto his neck. Your fingers snake into his hair and you grab hold of him. He slides his hands down your sides so he can hold you close as he resumes fucking into you. 

With this leverage, he somehow hits you deeper than before. His cock kisses the deepest parts of you again and again. Your sides bruise as he grips you harder. All his gentle inhibitions have been replaced with raw, unhinged furor. 

His pace quickens as you can feel him coming undone inside you. He is in a frenzy fucking you hard and deep and his grunts get louder. The heavy feel of him dragging out of you and shoving back with such force has you crying out his name along with a steady stream of expletives. 

You are so close but you beg your body to hold on, you don’t want the feeling to end. You want to live in this moment forever being trapped under Joel and being filled with his cock. You moan out his name as the second orgasm explodes through your body.  

“Fuck, baby..” his body quivers as he tries to hold out long enough for you to peak. 

He suddenly sits up and groans as he drags completely out of you. You whimper at the loss of him inside you and his wet, leaking cock slaps onto your belly. He strokes himself once with a heavy fist and grunts as hot ropes of cum spurt onto you. You relish being branded in his release. It coats your stomach and drips messily onto your cunt. You revel in the last fleeting moments of your orgasm being shared with Joel’s.   

He languidly strokes himself a few more times until he is empty. His chest rises and falls quickly as he breathes shallowly. His muscles weaken as the high from his climax rolls through him. 

He leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. The sticky mess spreads between your bellies as his body pushes into you. It's lewd and you love it. You love how filthy Joel makes you feel. All you can smell is sweat and sex and Joel.

He presses a kiss to your forehead and then sits back to catch his breath. Your bodies untangle and he goes back to his original spot on the couch. You stay laying back lazily with a leg draped casually over Joel and the other bent at the knee. You still need a moment for your legs to be in any condition to work properly. 

One of his hands rests on your thigh and he grazes it with comforting drags of his fingers. He doesn’t say anything but the gentle contact from him is welcome. The connection you share now is so contrasting to when he was railing you. It is a side of Joel that feels like a privilege granted to you.

The calm is interrupted by a vibration of his phone. Joel reluctantly picks it up to look at the screen and groans with disappointment. He answers it but doesn’t stop rubbing you gently while he conducts his business. 

“Fred, I’ll be there in 20.” 

You can’t make out the other end entirely but you can detect a man's voice. He doesn’t sound happy.

“Yeah, I’m running behind. Your house is next.” Joel tries to placate him. More chatter and you start to feel bad for holding him up. 

You move off of Joel and make your way towards the bathroom to wipe up the mess on your belly and grab your silky bathrobe off the door.  

“Ok, Fred. Be there soon.” You hear him hang up and toss his phone down with a grumble. He turns in your direction as he stands up to pull on his jeans. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I gotta’ go.” His tone is solemn now. You pop out of the bathroom and catch him using his undershirt to wipe up his mess. It’s gross but you like seeing him being comfortable being a typical, nasty man in your presence. Points for being resourceful.

“I heard. Didn’t mean to hold you up.” 

He glares at you and smirks as you make your way back to him. 

“Didn’t mind one bit.” He takes a few steps towards you to meet you halfway and kisses you on the top of your head while he wraps his arms around you. He breathes you in with his embrace and it feels so perfect being wrapped up by Joel. A final moment before it all ends and he pushes away from you, reluctantly. 

“And s’not a big deal. Snow aint going anywhere.” He says as he puts his flannel on, sans the thermal, and starts to button back up. 

His messy hair is mostly dry now and even more unruly with wild curls. You feel that fire inside you building again. It’s insatiable. You don’t want him to go. 

He laces up his boots and gathers his things. 

“Ok. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” 

“Ok, baby.” You exchange a final look and go your separate ways. You feel his eyes on you as you return to the bathroom. 

When you go back to the living room he is gone. All that remains is his dirty shirt and an empty coffee cup. 

Sunday Night (Joel POV)

After a few more hours of plowing Joel returns home. 

He takes a shower just long enough to wash the sweat and stink of exhaust from his body.

He pours himself a whiskey and collapses on the couch to relax. 

His body is weary, but his mind is still firing. It has not stopped. He has to face the reality that he is falling for you, whether or not he should be. 

He pulls out his phone and stares at it blankly. Hesitating. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds the one that he has been avoiding. He knocks back his drink and sends the text.

Joel: Tess. We need to talk.

Thank you to @magpiepills for beta-ing 🧡

Love to my ladies that mean everything @magpiepills @legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @for-a-longlongtime @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @redhotkitchen 🧡

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #NewEngland!Joel #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the wolf you feed #twyf

[crescentpaws]

i think fintan’s main motivation(s) can be boiled down to:

- “the ends justify the means” — knows what he’s doing (the murdering people) is wrong but believes it’s for the greater good of the elvin world. if people get in his way he must eliminate them; it’s nothing personal it’s just the easiest and quickest way to remove obstacles (like what happened with cyrah… in that case the starstones/elysian being kept a secret was more important to him than her living)

- in the case that he DOES enjoy murdering people though, i think it would be because it gives him a sense of control, which is something he probably hasn’t experienced since the pyrokinesis ban. i think this would apply to all his other crimes too….. over-indulging in the self-expression he was previously denied due to the ban (and especially since suppressing an ability seems to be extremely difficult, and he was forced to do that for centuries, all the arson would probably feel cathartic) sort of a “fuck you, you can’t control me anymore” vibe. this is why he’s always up front taking part in all his big schemes instead of hiding in the shadows and making the other neverseen members do it. he needs to control everything. (plus in stellarlune sophie mentions that his emotions are likely to be all over the place, which stina says will only make them stronger and easier for her to read. and we know elemental abilities (pyrokinesis especially) are influenced by emotions, so of course the more his mind deteriorates the harder it will be for him to control his ability. he probably knows this, which is why he’s being so destructive all at once. he wants to feel a sense of control while he still can)

- similar to the previous point but not quite the same: he craves the power and respect he used to have as a councillor. he went from beloved world leader to Most Hated Guy On Earth ™ in one night, and i’m sure that wasn’t an easy transition. we know he’s tired of being treated like shit because of his ability, especially because he used to be so loved. he is going to do whatever it takes to make sure people still recognize him as a powerful figure. he is going to scream and bite and leave claw marks on everything he touches because he will not let this opportunity slip through his fingers again. he will not be cast away and forgotten!! not this time!!!!! prime example of “if i can’t be respected, then i will be feared”

and then there’s the good old fashioned revenge

#anyway i think he’s very silly #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fintan #fintan pyren #kotlc headcanons

[hazbin-hotlee37]

Lee!Vox with Ler!Velvette would be cute :3

Fuck, motivation has gone poof! Anywayyyyyyssss

TW: Mentions of eating disorders and bad self care habits

Getting your mind off things

Lee!Vox, Ler!Velvette

“VOX!”

The TV headed demon in question jumped slightly, lifting his head from the desk where he was sleeping and running a hand down his screen. He sat up with a wince, his back aching. Fuck… What time was it?

“Vox, you missed the damn meeting and left me there with Valentino-... Damn, you look like shit. The fuck happened to you?” Velvette asks after she spun Vox’s chair toward her. The Media overlords appearance was very off from usual, looking disheveled instead of pristine.

“Nothing… I’ve just been trying to work on the Angelic Security shit…”

“That random idea you pulled out your ass? Why waste so much energy on that?? The extermination was canceled”

“Yeah, but what about the next one! I want to get this shit out there so the bitches aren’t breathing down my neck over it next year!” Vox said with a sigh.

“Yeahhhh, no. Come on, you haven’t left this damn cave in days.” She responds as she takes Vox’s hand dragging him out of his chair and out the door.

“I’m fine, Vel-”

“Don’t make me get Valentino” That shut the Media overlord up, he loved his husband, of course! But…… Valentino was already on his ass about this type of thing, if he learned the real reason as to why he wasn’t in bed with him at night… God, he did not have the mental capacity to comprehend that lecture.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Come on, I’ll get you something to eat” Velvette says as she pushed Vox into her room/living area. Vox stumbled a little but followed.

“I’m not really hungry right now, Vel” Vox mutters, he knows he should eat something… But the thought of food right now only made his stomach churn…

“Don’t tell me-... That thing is coming back?”

Vox shrugged and looked to the side, fidgeting with his sleeve slightly.

“Have you told Val-”

“No. And he doesn’t need to know, I’m fine.”

“Clearly you’re not, V! When was the last time you ate? Or slept? Or even took care of yourself in the slightest??” Velvette says, concern clear in her voice. “You’re gonna work yourself to your second death at this point!”

“I know, I know… I get it, It’s just hard to suddenly change something you’ve done since you were alive.. For years! I’m trying my best… but sometimes it creeps back…” Vox says his voice going quiet near the end, he sat down on the couch and sighed.

“...Bloody hell, V, I didn’t realize you were this fucked up” Velvette says with a joking smile, trying to lighten the mood as she sat down next to the Media demon.

“Who down here isn’t..?” Vox says with a slight smile, he then jumped and gasped quietly when he felt Velvette run her claws up his side. “V-Vel-”

“Come on, Vox, we both know you need a bit of a pick me up” The fashion designer says with a smile as she squeezes the TV demon’s sides.

Vox squeaked and tried to bring his knees up to his chest but Velvette just pushed his legs back down and started scribbling her fingers over his tummy.

“Nahaha! V-Vehel, nononono NOhohoho! Ehehek!” Vox giggled and batted at the Social Media influencers hands but didn’t really try to push her away.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Voxy, can’t handle what you dish out? Don’t think I forgot when you got me and Val the other day! So take this as a pick me up and revenge!” The fashionista says with a smirk as she started to squeeze and drill her thumbs into the Tech demon’s hips, giggling when he shrieked.

“VEHEHELVEHETTE! NAHAHAEHEHEH- I Cahahan���t-! Ehehehek!”

“Shush! God, you’re so bloody loud! At this point, Val’s gonna kick down the door!” “Ihihihi’M SOHOHORREHEHE-” “Blah, blah, blah. Whatever, I’ll slow down a lil, don’t want you passing out on me. Tino will have my head” Vel says with a softer smile as she plays with Vox’s antenna, making the TV headed demon’s giggles melt into something softer.

“Ohoho gosh…” “Yeah, yeah, just take a load off, alright? You deserve it…”

#hazbin hotel tickle #lee!vox #mentioned Valentino #lots and lots of fluff #soo much fluff #Headcanon: Vox is fucked up #Eating disorder mentioned but not directly #Hinted at #Ler!Velvette

[yuurivoice]

Got any time management tips for those of us with 80 HDs 😭?

Shit, if you find any let me know.

I wasn't really able to make any progress in that regard until I got medicated, because I finally understood and felt how long an hour was. I think a lot of my struggle was centered around an inability to grasp time and how long things take to accomplish.

I was attributing so much mental weight to each task when in reality it would be done in five minutes and I'd be happy it was done and I could do ten other things in the span of the hour I had thought would be sacrificed for the one single task.

Early on I had a day where I did all of my house chores that normally would take the whole day and require a whole lot of hyping myself up to get done. On top of that, I had breakfast, took my meds, started my morning.

When I sat down at my desk it was only 9:30am......

That was when I realized that I hadn't really been operating in reality up until that point, despite logically and fundamentally understanding how long things take and how much time really is in a day, it just didn't register the same for me.

Before that I was doing all the tips and tricks, making lists, doing whatever I could to try and motivate myself to get into motion. But it wasn't ever really consistent. I'd have good days, I'd have void days. I never really mastered it to the point of consistency.

The best I got is that when you feel that motivation hit and you're DOING THINGS, don't stop until you've completed the things. Don't check off one or two boxes and come to a full stop because it might not get back going again. Obviously don't indulge full blown mania just to get shit done, but if you feel the wind in your sails, ride it as best you can while it's there.

That's what got me this far, and it was a mess. I am very lucky to have made it work, but there were many times where it didn't work at all.

Best of luck, friend. <3

[angelbitezzz]

SO 👏

I been thinking really hard about how I'll be writing magic for whatever undertale related stuff I write.

If viewed as straightforward, we get an example of magic that could be reasonably tied to every human soul "trait" (more on that later) in undertale proper. Listed as follows:

Cyan magic: Tied to patience, requires targets to stop in order to avoid damage. Many monsters in Snowdin use it, though notably Papyrus, Sans and Asgore have used it

Orange magic: Tied to bravery, requires targets to move in order to avoid damage. Many monsters in Hotland use it, but a notable example would be Asgore as well

Green magic: Tied to kindness, could be reasonably tied to healing magic since healing is often associated with the color green, not to mention the game requires you to touch a green attack on some occasions (such as vegetoid's healing veggies). Plus Undyne and her turning you green, forcing you to stop moving but giving you the opportunity to protect yourself in the process

Blue magic: Tied to Integrity, likely something to do with gravity. Notable example is Papyrus and Sans, though Papyrus only uses it to weigh you down, versus Sans using it to throw you around (or maybe forcibly changing your direction of gravity?)

Yellow Magic: Tied to Justice, seems to be used strictly offensively? Notably, monsters don't use it against you, but Frisk is given the opportunity to use it during the Mettaton fights. However, I believe that the Karma poison damage from Sans's fight is because he's actively using Yellow magic at the time

Purple magic: Tied to perseverance. An oddball magic type, because the only Real example we get of it is during the Muffet fight. And since she's not technically part of the main cast despite having such a unique and notable boss fight, we don't get Much information on her personally to make any real guesses or judgements. And THIS is my sticking point, the thing I think about a lot

Muffet turns your soul purple, and you find yourself only able to move along the webbing that she strings up along the battle screen. You can't stray from the lines, you can only pass from line to line and move along them, until the magic wears off and you can move freely.

I have been thinking of how these magic types can be tied to elements as well, since we see a lot of certain kinds of monsters use certain types. I'll list my thoughts below

Cyan: Ice

Orange: Fire

Blue: Water/Or just straight up. Gravity. I know it's not traditional in a sense but we don't really get much on this one either bear with me

Green: Plant-life

Yellow: Electricity

Purple: And AGAIN I come up blank. Best I could figure? Earth. Rock. Or, conversely, the wind. Air. Something adaptable.

Purple stands out. It's a different sort of "trait" compared to the others, because all the others are straightforward. Anyone can define themselves by their Bravery, or their Kindness, or their sense of Justice, but who is defining themselves by how much they Persevere? Or Persist?

Soul Traits as I write them in TSoT or even Crossbones and Starstruck arent the end all be all of a person. It's simply tied to what chiefly motivates them. If they happen to be a mage, then the magic they use corresponds to that motivation, to that Color of magic. There's no right or wrong trait here, only intent.

Intent is important, intent is what causes you to be able to clear the genocide route so easily! Because the game knows you're going out of your way to grind—in short, you do more damage because you want to do more damage. If you don't want to hurt someone, then it's reflected in your attack. That is why monsters were so vulnerable during the war, because human vitriol made it all the easier for monster populations to be decimated.

Swinging back around to Perseverance: I think this trait—this magic, is completely personal. I think it reflects the user more so than the others because the point is to persevere—to survive. To Get Through This Shit. It's adaptability at its core.

Muffet is in a position where her family is split by the cold of Snowdin, and it seems like her family is extremely important to her, all posturing and threat displays and money hungry persona is masking the fact that she is concerned with and takes care of her own. And they care for her in turn—they do everything she asks, assist in the fight with you and help run her bake sakes, and upon her death you are greeted with a solemn scene of one of them rushing up to drop a flower where she stood and then rushing off again.

Adaptability and survival is important, but the best way to adapt and survive is to lean on others. Find your people, build your village and so on. She's never doing this alone. She knows this and it strengthens her. Her fight wouldn't be nearly as tough if she didn't have her spiders helping with it.

And ideally, a user of purple magic gets that strength from their loved ones. How that magic manifests depends on the person, as I've said before.

Muffet is a spider. She traps you in a web. Subtextually, one could argue that your connections to others are like a web expanding outwards to those that you know.

Angel, my self insert, has the perseverance soul trait. In Crossbones and Starstruck, you've seen her use purple magic once—to force her health to stop depleting. In a physical sense, she stopped the bleeding entirely, if only briefly. Ensuring her continued survival until help arrived. What else she can do with her magic, if anything, remains yet to be seen. But I'll tell you what—

Connections are important. Acknowledging your love for others only strengthens you. Electing to pretend that someone isn't important to you out of misguided fear of being rejected or misunderstood only hurts you, and thus, your magic.

:-)

#undertale #headcanons #the state of things fic #tsot fic #crossbones and starstruck #angel talks #hi ive been thinking about this a lot but im tooo tired to be concise so this is what you get #enjoy

[loneliestluvr]

Cold Hands

pairing: eris vanserra x archeron oc

synopsis: Caught up in a world of hollow grief for her people, her life, and her father, Blair Archeron is forced into a life under the light she wants no part of after ghosting through immortality since being Made. But what she finds, is not what she expects.

warning: depression, worthlessness, cauldron trauma, angst, that’s kinda it for now tbh.

word count: 1.9k

taryn thinks: ive been thinking about eris vanserra for a long time and reading lost bonds by @readychilledwine about tamlin kind of gave me some inspo and motivation i haven’t had in a while to write this. also ttpd because ive been down in the dumps and feeling angsty so… enjoy!! 🫶🏼 i apologize if it’s a bit scrambled lol, i just wanted to write it out.

The fabric Nuala and Cerridwen had dressed her in erased any and all traces of the truth. The destitute it had felt her life became since this newfound immortality ripped everything Blair Archeron had ever known away from her, tucked away. Hidden behind the gauzy chiffon.

There had been small pockets of awareness, of feeling like she had control over herself lately. Where she didn’t rot away in bed, or a chaise— alone and wrapped in the quiet of her mind. Staring into open space, ghosting through whatever this life was.

Those times were hard to come by, and even when the war against Hybern was raging it was decided Blair would stay safe in Velaris. Where she had always remained. Where she did not leave, until today.

It was a pointed argument among their small circle that this life was no better than what Feyre had been through with Tamlin, but Blair did not fight it. Simply… existed inside of it.

It wasn’t that nobody tried to help, they did. They asked questions, gave the second eldest sister every chance to open up. To get out, to experience this new world. To talk.

Elain would argue even when she did, it was mere hollows of the person Blair had been who responded. The echoes that remembered how to speak, that walked so smoothly and carelessly that she seemed to float on a hot wind.

Blair was not fearless, she was not cunning, she was not soft, nor was she anything that her sisters were. She was simply… other.

And maybe that was the furthest thing from simple, that there were no words to describe the ethereal beauty of her hollowness. Maybe there never would be.

Blair didn’t seem to mind, and she got away with it.

Content was the feeling that seemed the most appropriate to describe the life she lead now. Moved into her youngest sisters River Home, with a large room at the end of the house overlooking the winding waters. The gardens Elain had crafted and tended when she wasn’t at the townhouse sat below, the large expanse of the land out to the river in full view. The snow capped mountains that danced across the skyline, one’s she sometimes watched Feyre paint in front of from her window day after day, month after month.

She supposed she had it coming when Nesta was forced to the House of Wind. When her older sister by a mere year had pointed out that Blair had amounted to nothing in the time Nesta had been taken hostage inside that House on the side of the mountain. When Nesta had been expected to work and be something, Blair had still remained as useless as before.

“She is adjusting,” Feyre had argued on Blair’s behalf. Blair had been the kindest of their sisters to Feyre when they were in that cabin, poor and broken and nothing. Who had helped with no qualms, who had genuinely cared for them all— even their seemingly worthless father. “—she did not ask for this, the same as you. At least she is not drinking herself to death.” The smartest of them, as Feyre had described to Rhys’ Inner Circle before those meetings in the mortal realm, others would have thought the same if they knew her before.

Before she became this… thing.

“You let her wither away, sitting about in her sadness and grief and her muteness. I would think she had forgotten how to speak if it weren’t for the utterly mundane responses she gives.” Nesta had barked back at their little sister while Blair sat by the window, unmoving. Her face a mask of cool indifference like she wasn’t quite hearing anyway. “How is what she’s doing any different than what I have? Because she isn’t spending your money? Because she hasn’t tainted Rhysand’s precious Court image?”

She didn’t care how they spoke of her, didn’t care to defend herself from Nesta’s forked tongue— it took more energy than she had to argue. Blair could have washed away right into the water that rushed through the river she stared into for all she cared.

Everything had just gone so… wrong from that point. As if Nesta’s breaking point was seeing her first baby sister be so broken and discarded, she had ripped into a secret nobody had even bothered to tell Feyre or Blair— that Feyre’s babe would kill her.

The rest had been a blur like usual after and here they were, dressed and gowned in the finest clothes they had. In the short time since finding out about Feyre’s deadly predicament, everyone seemingly had agreed with Nesta about Blair’s lack of presence in their court… or any at all.

The only people who knew she existed were those that were present when she was forced into the bitterly cold water of the cauldron. When it had felt as though she drowned, that she had died there and something else had filled her body. Felt as though she could only see herself from outside of her body, outside of whatever she had became.

Blair Archeron would be making her debut to the Court of Nightmares in the same fashion Feyre would be revealing her pregnancy. She didn’t know much else, didn’t care for the details or even why Nesta had been training in dances they both knew since childhood. Just what she was to wear and to come when called.

To admit the dress she was now wearing wasn’t utterly beautiful would be a disgrace in itself, and she looked stunning.

Despite her pointed ears being viewable, Blair’s long and heavy gold-brown hair had been curled gorgeously, cascading down her freckled and fair bare back to cover where her dress did not. Kissing and tickling the skin when she moved her head, half of her hair pulled back from her face into loose twirls and braids.

Her face painted in light cosmetics that she didn’t need. It was no secret that her beauty came first out of the four sisters, even before dear Elain’s— skin freckled, dark lashes and brows, cheeks usually tinted pink naturally. But her eyes, her eyes were the rarest of her sisters and what made her so profoundly different.

A base of that gray-blue that grew more vibrant as it met her pupil. But the flecks of nearly golden amber splattered like an artist had flicked their wrist in a rush is what made them so different.

Why the black of her dress fit her so much better than it did poor Elain, her second youngest sister nearly washed out by the bleak darkness she had been presented to wear.

The dress clinging to Blair’s torso was bedecked in gold sparkling beads that formed lines of detail along the bodice and the hem by her feet, the fabric black beneath it. Hugging tight to her figure. Eating and drinking had gotten easier after the war and had allowed her to fill out again.

Her full breasts wrapped tight to her chest where they sat prettily, the dips in her hips and waist outlined by the sheer sleeves that flared well past her hands, capped around her shoulders but left her back utterly bare despite the illusion of the chiffon looking like a cape.

The dress hung from her body as she waited almost carelessly to enter the throne room of Hewn City, and Blair felt a little like she might die.

The air here, anywhere, was so much colder than the sweltering heat of her bedroom where she kept the fire roiling day and night— where she felt like she was at home even if it was just in her head. Sleeping on the floor in front of it most nights, where the crackling of the fire could drown out the sound of her thoughts. Where the warmth could make her feel something other than empty.

Now. Feyre’s voice rang warmly in Blair’s head, echoing outside of the thick walls of forest she’d been taught to put up. Spruce and oak, winding paths lined with red poppy’s and orange geraniums, fogged over meadows to traipse through at will. A maze for anyone else, with no beginning and no end.

The rest of them had gone in a half hour ago it seemed, Blair to be used if they needed to pull a distraction or anything. She would be introduced no matter what, but timing was to be used as an advantage.

The towering doors to the throne room boomed open as Blair turned the corner to the hallway, the curls in her hair bouncing with every step despite the light wind billowing through her flowing sleeves as if she were gliding.

The music continued as she kept her head high and entered the space, hands folded neatly in front of her. A small upward twitch of her pretty red lips, her face calm and still.

Still as the room became when her feet hit the marble across that threshold.

She walked, one foot in front of the other. Head in a full fog before she even entered the throne room— but there was a tug. Something that had almost made her stumble, but she sucked in a tight breath as she focused on the dais ahead.

Pulling, tugging, a line going taut the closer she became and her vision cleared. Someone that had been in deep discussion before Blair entered, someone now turned to face her as everyone else did.

All but the Court of Dreamers gaping at her, at her beauty. So much different than her obvious sisters, a third sister to the High Lady of the Night Court, but so much the same that it was easily distinguishable. Gasps and whispers filling Blair’s now clear ears, but she didn’t look anywhere but the male in front of Rhys and Feyre— as much as she wanted to. As much as she pleaded with herself to look away, she could not.

The bright auburn hair, the pale and freckled skin of his handsome face. All fae were gorgeous, she’d been told and equally come to learn but… just the very look of him made her skin heat.

A look of something similar washed through his amber eyes, the matching amber to the flecks in her own, his throat bobbing.

Something like devastation went through this male and though Blair couldn’t tear her eyes from his as she finally made those last steps to the dais, she could see Rhys’ mask slip ever so slightly from the corner of her eye before it went back up.

There was a part of her, so enamored by whoever this person was— and something about him made her slip back into consciousness. That outside look at herself faded back into her own body and she didn’t realize until she breathed again that her heart had been beating so rapidly.

Or that she hadn’t addressed her High Lord and Lady.

Or that they’d demanded the crowd go back to dancing and drinking and eating.

Or that all she did was face this male, a look of shocked confusion painting her usually dull expression because somehow, someway, she felt like she knew him.

And that the tug she felt, that line, went utterly taut before him.

🏷️: @thehighladywrites and anyone else that wants to be added to a tag list for this or anything else lmk lmfao

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra #autumn court #night court #elain archeron #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #rhysand #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra x oc #oc #your honor i love him #me when mating bonds😦 #cassian #Azriel

[hiphopcherrrypop]

save me bottle blond bass player

#bottle blond bass player.. save me... #scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim fanart #spto #todd ingram #lisa miller #maybe they r cousins to me.. #see im thinking and im liking how im thinking #something something lisa wanting to start a band bc she thinks todd is cool for being in a band #timeline wise that doesnt make senseee but idc i ignore that for now! #maybey he just plays bass and she thinks thats cool and awesome #something something todd wanting to act bc he thinks lisa is cool for being on tv #she is booked and busy in hollywood thats why she didnt show up obviii...... #and spoiler alert for coming soon art when i have more time/motivation... lisa + roxie yuri #that one summer pool party art fuels me THEY R HOLDING HANDS 😋😋 a little #but i just realize it gets funnier now bc im imagining roxie being like 'MEET MY NEW GF (¬‿¬)!' #and todd is like 'UR DATING MY COUSIN?!!' #so saddd lisa didnt appear but also it makes sense given no scott 90% of the show #she couldve still ran into kim and made out with her or whatever happned in the comics idk #scott pilgrim vs the world #spvtw #lisa miller i love yuuoooouu #my beautiful angel #her and todd both my princesses #idk how them-being-related hc never crossed my mind til now!

[thefirstknife]

New article with more details (from Jason Schreier who first broke the story). If you can't see it, I'll copy the whole text under read more.

About 100 employees were laid off in total (8%) and one of the main reasons listed is "underperformance," "sharp drop in popularity" and "poor reception of Lightfall."

So you know when for the last year and a half content creators have been shitting and pissing on the game as a full-time job and the amount of negativity and ragebait content became the only thing to make content about for them? Well they certainly won't take the blame, but I will let it be known. These people either don't understand the influence they have or they do and they're doing it on purpose, and I don't know which of these two options is worse, but I am 100% confident that their campaign of rage and hate contributed to this.

You don't base your entire community around constantly hating everything about the only game you play (despite clearly not enjoying it anymore) and somehow avoid galvanising thousands and thousands of people into perceiving the game negatively. Imagine being employees who have barely worked there for 2 years and the only community reception they've seen is 24/7 hate train for their work and then they get fired because of "poor reception" and "drop in popularity." How can they not take that personally? I am absolutely devastated for these people who delievered a banger product and who were met with an unrelenting barrage of toxic gamer children which ended up having more sway over their boss than them.

Which brings me to the next bit and that's FUCK THE CEO. He is now my mortal enemy #1. I am projecting psychic blasts directly into his brain. What an absolute spineless coward who is more willing to bow down to fucking gamers than to protect his own employees. This is absolutely rage inducing because this has happened before. From the article from 2021 about the toxic culture at Bungie:

Reading this shit from the new article absolutely fucking sent me into blind rage because I immediately remembered this. Another instance of employees suffering because of comments on reddit. And because of toxic players. And proof that leadership is not protecting employees and is instead siding with players.

Match made in heaven. Asshole gamer content creators and asshole CEOs, all of whom sit at home on piles of money made from someone else's labour. I hope they all explode. None of the people that worked on this game deserve this.

Another article with an infuriating comment from the CEO:

In an internal town hall meeting addressing a Monday round of layoffs that impacted multiple departments, Bungie CEO Pete Parsons allegedly told remaining employees that the company had kept “the right people” to continue work on Destiny 2.

"Kept the right people." Really. Veteran composers weren't the right people? Die!

Bloomberg article in full:

Bungie’s decision to cut an estimated 100 jobs from its staff of about 1,200 followed dire management warnings earlier this month of a sharp drop in the popularity of its flagship video game Destiny 2. Just two weeks ago, executives at the Sony-owned game developer told employees that revenue was running 45% below projections for the year, according to people who attended the meeting. Chief Executive Officer Pete Parsons pinned the big miss on weak player retention for Destiny 2, which has faced a poor reception since the release of its latest expansion, Lightfall. The next expansion, The Final Shape, was getting good — not great feedback — and management told those present that they planned to push back the release to June 2024 from February, according the people, who asked not to be identified because they weren’t authorized to speak publicly. The additional time would give developers a chance to improve the product. In the meantime, Parsons told staff Bungie would be cutting costs, such as for travel, as well as implementing salary and hiring freezes, the people said. Everyone would have to work together to weather the storm, he said, leaving employees feeling determined to do whatever was needed to get revenue back up. But on Monday morning the news got worse: Dozens of staffers woke up to mysterious 15-minute meetings that had been placed on their calendars, which they soon learned were part of a mass layoff. Bungie laid off around 8% of its employees, according to documentation reviewed by Bloomberg. Bungie didn’t respond to requests for comment. Employees who were let go will receive at least three months of severance and three months of Bungie-paid COBRA health insurance, although other benefits, such as expense reimbursements, ended Monday, sending some staff racing to submit their receipts. Laid-off staffers will also receive prorated bonuses, although those who were on a vesting schedule following Sony Group Corp.’s acquisition of Bungie in January 2022 will lose any shares that weren’t vested as of next month. The layoffs are part of a larger money-saving initiative at Sony’s PlayStation unit, which has also cut employees at studios such as Naughty Dog, Media Molecule and its San Mateo office. TD Cowen analyst Doug Creutz wrote in a report Monday that “events over the last few days lead us to believe that PlayStation is undergoing a restructuring.” PlayStation president Jim Ryan announced last month that he plans to resign. Many of the layoffs at Bungie affected the company’s support departments, such as community management and publishing. Remaining Bungie staff were informed that some of those areas will be outsourced moving forward.

#destiny 2 #bungie #long post #and like i don't care what's anyone's opinion on lightfall. it doesn't matter #the expansion is fine. there's some bad shit in there as there is in every expansion #literally nothing on this earth was so bad to deserve the amount of vitriol that lightfall got #it was purely motivated by hate and rage from people who have clearly lost their interest in the game a long time ago #no one else normal enough would respond even to a weaker expansion this way. and lightfall wasn't even weaker #literally nothing ever released in destiny deserves to have comments bad enough to end up affecting employees #there's been some bad expansions/dlcs/seasons. whatever. none of them were like... gollum level. not even close #people genuinely treated lightfall like it personally killed their dog. it was insane. the reaction to it was insane. #it stemmed from people who should have stopped playing a long time ago and stopped being content creators for one game #i can't even properly explain just how long and tireless the ragebait content campaign for destiny has been #opening youtube and seeing 10 videos in a row of just complaining and bitching #opening twitter and seeing thousands upon thousands of posts and comments dedicated solely to hating the game #imagine being an employee trying to maintain some communication with the community #hippy was relentlessly bullied by people I've seen suddenly lamenting that she was fired. you caused this #they will never accept even a miniscule portion of the blame for this ofc. they will just keep claiming they don't have that influence #but they do. it's been proven years ago. in the same way #community comments DO reach devs and community comments DO influence what happens to them and the game #'the event is bad' 'meta is bad' 'pvp is bad' 'raid is bad' 'story is bad' stop playing. no longer asking. #it's a video game. if you hate it stop playing. you don't have to justify it to hundreds of thousands of people and take them with you #especially when it leads to employees taking the fall #so to all content creators who are appalled and baffled after spending 2 years hating the game: you did this. #and to the ceo even more: explode into dust and be forgotten

[kagoutiss]

*complaining for no reason again because i am bored* i need more ppl to know that these. are all the same person these are literally canonically all the exact same individual person im begging u

literally almost all the ganondorfs are the exact same individual and almost all the ganons are the exact same individual, almost all the ganondorfs & ganons are the same exact person just in different forms and circumstances. except for FSA and maybe whatever the fuck is going on with TotK ganondorf but i still think it’s weird that he still has golden eyes & rounded ears when even the gerudo in TotK’s ancient past dont, but anyway ashfjsbfjsn

#not like you always have to subscribe to canon because it’s often impossible to know the truth of certain things #or some things that are canonical just suck and should be changed anyway but like #of all the things that are like relatively basic facts for ppl engaging in the Lore or whatever #ppl are like always. Always talking about ganondorf as if every iteration of him is a different person just like link & zelda #but so much of his character development stems from the fact that WW ganon and TP ganon are both different timeline offshoots of OoT ganon #i’m ​not even citing the ‘Official Timeline’ on this because it is silly & confusing but i just literally mean #in terms of basic canon continuity #that WW and TP were conceptualized even in the early 2000s to be the events that occur distantly after the two timeline splits OoT created #because OoT is a game about time travel and the entire concept of the split timelines in this series #originated from the two different scenarios that are created by link & zelda’s use of the master sword and the ocarina #WW ganondorf and TP ganondorf are both literal older versions of OoT ganondorf in 2 different futures #not to mention all of the ganons in the early games. OoT was made as a prequel that both literally and figuratively #attempted to humanize the main antagonist of the series #OoT ganondorf at the time WAS the ‘ganondorf with character development and an actual motivation’ #WW ganondorf (who is the same person.) just actually got to vocalize what specifically his motivation was #which is great!! and also retroactively gives OoT ganondorf more context & depth #can u tell i am off my meds at the moment and have nothing better to do with my time ahsjfhskfhdj

[thelassoway]

Jason Sudeikis as Ted Lasso Season 3 » Casual Sweaters/Jumpers

#Ted Lasso #Jason Sudeikis #Theodore Lasso #*mine: gif #tedlassoedit #sweater/jumper game #ugh you idiot with that face #stop staring at me swan #here's a gifset for the sweater/jumper lovers out there and sorry this is a long post. I just couldn't make up my mind on some of these #I spent way too much time overanalyzing the casual sweaters/jumpers. I was trying to only show each one once but then just gave up #deep dived research on the Todd Snyder site that's the kind of overanalyzing that happened #there is a lot of lighting messing with colors and for sure there are some repeats in this but whatever #I had this idea way back when we saw the variety of color sweaters/jumpers for S3 #but after the end of S3 I lost a lot of feelings for this show #my motivation for giffing this show is not so strong anymore but there is a part of me that still wants to maybe try a layout set #I'm thinking of doing all 3 seasons and just an overall sweater/jumper encompassing gifset. both the work and casual together #kind of meh on how some of these turned out ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #it might be the added switch to the new editor and that all of these have been turned into gifv nonsense #also couldn't get the caption font to do what I wanted in html or at least it looked alright in drafts but not in preview #PS: thank you talldecafcappuccino for reading/helping with my color debate/same vs not same sweater/jumper nonsense

[transmascutena]

thinking about how akio sees his younger self in utena and wondering if there's any fondness there. doesn't change the horror of what he does to her obviously but i do wonder

#akio and utena #m #long ramble in the tags sorry: #the thing about akio is that he's so evil bit he's also so human #he has feelings. i just don't know what they are (if anything) toward his victims #he loves anthy at the very least i'm sure of that. even if he hates her too. just like she loves and hates him. the lines are blurry. #and i just. i have to wonder whether any of that extends to utena at all. we know anthy at times feels similarly about utena and dios #(and akio by extension.) the simultanious love and resentment. so it's not too unlikely i think. #like. even though he never had anything but bad intentions in getting close to her #i'm not sure it's possible to do everything he did and feel nothing #not that he has any meaningful amount of guilt or remorse for it. i don't think that. #and i obviously don't think he “loved” her in any of the ways she might have thought he did #but did he not care at all? did he not feel any kind of fondness or sympathy or just. idk. pity? for her? #whatever the case it wasn't enough to reconsider having her killed so you know. how much does that actually matter anyway #idk. i think about it a lot. how abusers are rarely entirely indifferent toward their victims #the role he's playing in her life is so fucked up but it IS a role he's playing and i wonder how much he you know... internalizes it? #how much does he believe the illusion of family that he invites her into? because akio DOES often buy into his own illusions. #(similarly i think it's possible that akio is fond of touga too. their mentor-protégé relationship is horrible and abusive #but that doesn't make it less real. you know? maybe real is the wrong word.) #when he talks in episode 25 about wanting utena and anthy closer that's obviously so he can continue to groom her #but is there something genuine there too? i don't know. #again. it obviously does not make anything he does better or even different. but it is interesting to think about to me. #on the other side of that coin does seeing his own past youth and naivete and desire to do good that he (maybe) once had #reflected back at him through her mean anything? #is there resentment there? that she is what he couldn't be? or more likely he just thinks that idealism is stupid. #either way it's something he wants to take from her. anyway ramble over. #i talk a lot about utena's feelings toward akio (familial vs romantic love and the way the two are intertwined in fucked up ways) #but not much the other way around. probably because utena is actually a sympathetic character whose feelings the show very clearly #wants you to analyze and think about. #which is... less true for akio i think. though he's still a complex character with complex motives. he's just harder to get a grasp on.