#think has a big impact on him just being a lot more practical and keeping his emotions more hidden too. plus there's just the like regal air | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katiexpunk · 4 months

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Sex On Fire, Part 3 | Pairing Firefighter!Joel Miller X Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You're a country girl in the big city, thanks to your generous aunt. You expected to have adventures your first year in New York, but what you didn't expect was for your hot, firefighter neighbor, Joel, to be part of them.

Part 3 Summary: You finally relieve the sexual tension between you and Joel. And once you get started, you never really stop.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: ~6.6K

Warnings: Sexual tension. Finally relieved sexual tension. Size kink. Praise kink. No age gap mentioned. Pet names. Alcohol. Grinding. Explicit, unprotected m in f sex. Creampie. Fingering. Flirting. Feelings. Love. Dirty talk. Commanding!Joel. Soft!Joel. Semi-public sex. Firefighter kink. Uniform kink. Firetruck sex. Just lots of fucking, honestly. Oral. Sarah and Tommy make an appearance, Ellie get's briefing mentioned. Sex and the City references. Reader and Joel like orange chicken. Cannolis. Fire references. One reference to 9/11. New York City.

Authors Note: I have so much I could say about this one, but I'll keep it short. Thank you for your patience on this, and for all of the love. I hope you think the build-up was worth it. I love ya'll a milli.

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Part 1 | Part 2

As soon as Sarah opens the door, she can tell something is different, she can feel it. She expected to find her dad engrossed in his usual weekend routine—perhaps watching a movie or reading a book—or even more so, she expected to find his apartment empty, with him being on call, but no. The fresh aroma of dinner and the faint smell of candles alert her to something more. Plus it’s quiet, a little too quiet.

“Dad?” she yells.

And shit.

You’ve got to be joking, you think.

Your eyes practically poke out of your skull as you attempt to adjust your dress, straightening and flattening the lace straps of your panties over your hips, your arousal still tacked on to your inner thighs. You frantically try to pat down your hair and wipe the indecent look from your face, but you think it might be obvious anyway. Months of wanting and need are hard to erase on demand.

Nearly getting caught, and hearing his daughter's voice, causes Joel to soften. He quickly pulls his pants up and buckles his jeans. He runs his fingers through his curls and braces for impact, rising to stand next to you in front of the couch, being sure to leave a decent gap between your bodies.

Sarah walks through the hallway and sees the dining table set for two in the distance, the candles nearly burnt to the end, but still flickering. She turns her attention to the living room, then to you and Joel, and oh, this is new. Her eyes catch a glimpse of the cocktails on the side table and then she immediately drags her gaze back to you both.

Caught off guard, Sarah hesitates in the living room, unsure of how to react. Joel looks at her but doesn’t quite say anything. "Hi, dad... I, uh, didn't know you were expecting company," Sarah stammers, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

Joel clears his throat, attempting to compose himself.

You smile warmly, trying to alleviate the awkwardness. "Uh, hi – you must be Sarah,” you sheepishly wave, “Your dad has told me a lot about you."

As Sarah steps towards you both, she can’t help but shake the feeling of intrusion. She forces a smile, trying to play off her surprise. "Hi. Um, it’s nice to meet you, too,” she pauses before adding, “I’m really sorry, I didn't mean to barge in. I just wanted to surprise you dad, but I’ll um… let you two enjoy your evening."

Joel, realizing he needs to address the situation, says, “Sarah, wait. Let me explain."

But Sarah shakes her head, not wanting to prolong the discomfort, heat creeping up to her chest. "It's okay, Dad. I'll catch up with you later. I told Ellie would meet up with her tonight anyway. I’ll be back, uh – later.” With that, she makes a hasty exit, leaving both you and Joel a bit surprised and amused. Did that really just happen?

In the hallway on her way out, Sarah can’t help but smile at the unexpected turn of events. She has never seen her dad with anyone since her mom ran out. Sure, it might be weird to think of her father with someone, but it’s quite the opposite. As far as she can tell, he seems happy. And if he’s happy, she’s happy. Plus, he deserves it.

++++

As Sarah exits the front door, you and Joel both stand there in charged silence. He turns to face you and takes a step forward to close the distance that he had intentionally created. He’s so close, enough so that you feel his belly rising and falling with this breath. You place your hand on his chest and feel the thrum of his heart beneath your palm before letting it slowly glide down over his taught muscles, your fingertips coming to rest on his pants, the tips of them gently tucked into the band below his belt.

There is so much you could say. So much he could say. Hell, so much you both should say.

You pause there looking up at Joel, waiting for him to say anything. An explanation, an excuse, something.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Simply because for the past few months, you've dominated every corner of his mind, leaving no room for a single coherent thought to emerge. Every waking moment has been an incessant stream of you – your smile, your laugh, your perfect tits, and hell, even the thought of you spread wide on his couch, begging for him to take you. He no longer feels like a rational man capable of clear thought.

When his mouth goes to form words, nothing comes out. Although that’s not a total surprise considering most of the blood in his body is not in his brain, nor has it been for a while now. No, it’s all in his cock, and not being able to do anything about it has been slowly driving him over the edge.

The way you look at him is like an extra quarter being added to the coin pusher that’s already piled high with money, just waiting to topple over for the jackpot.

Joel Miller is a gentleman, yes. He’s also an adoring father, an excellent firefighter, and a good brother.

But right now, none of that matters. You have stripped him of every title, replacing his being down to one existential thing.

Need.

An animalistic, raw, burning desire courses through his veins for one thing and one thing only.

You.

And although he wishes it was a bit more seamless and romantic, right now he couldn’t care less. Coming down your throat isn’t enough. He hasn’t even fully had you yet, but he can already tell he’s hooked.

He’s an addict and you’re the drug. Enough will never be enough. Try as he might, he’ll always want more, more, more.

Starting right fucking now.

Joel looks down at you with dark eyes before he grabs you in a way that says he means business. One hand catches the back of your head, the other goes to your waist, and he pulls you taught against his chest, the pressure of it releases a little oof from your lungs, and he greets you with an intense kiss. You taste a hint of whiskey on his breath, and you wonder if he can taste himself on you.

This kiss feels different. The first couple were amazing, the best you’ve ever had if you’re being honest, but this one goes deeper. He kisses you with such an intensity that you find yourself questioning the laws of gravity – what goes up, must come down. Right now, you’re not sure if you’ll ever come down from the way he makes you feel, the way his lips on yours make you feel like you’re free-floating amongst the clouds.

“Mmm,” Joel moans, his lips barely separating from you. “Really had a different evening planned in my head, Darlin’,” he admits, words reverberating against your lips. He grazes them down to your jaw and places soft kisses along the square edge of it. His hot breath greets your ear, “But to hell with it…no more distractions, baby.”

All you can respond with is a moan of his name, lost in the haze of your arousal. You’ve been fantasizing about this moment for months; how finally having him deep inside you would feel. Now, your dream is materializing before you and you’re dizzy with fervor.

He continues to nip at your neck, his hands finding their way to the straps of your dress and before long he’s pulling them down, the silky fabric of your dress falling to the floor so you’re completely nude in front of him, bare save for the soiled fabric of your thong. He groans in approval against your skin before licking a broad stripe up the valley of your breasts, his hand coming up to thumb one of your nipples as he does.

“Ugh, yes Joel, I want you, need you so fucking bad,” you moan with your head tilted back as his mouth greets the tender skin of one of your breasts. His mouth navigates to the flesh of your nipple and you let out a desperate moan, tangling your hands in his salt and pepper-streaked hair.

“Yeah?” he says, a somewhat taunting tone to his voice, releasing your nipple from his mouth with a loud pop. “Love to hear you say that, baby. But I think you can beg a little better f’me, can’t you?”

“Want you so fucking much, Joel. Need to feel you inside me, it’s driving me insane not knowing what you feel like. Waited so long, please fuck me,” you add for good measure, not evening trying to mask the urgency behind your voice. You’ve never felt like this before, so full of lust, and need, your core burning at a red-hot temperature, dripping for him and only him.

“That’s better,” he says as he pushes you against the wall, not even bothering to notice the picture frames that fall to the floor as a result. He quickly spins you around, letting his hand drag from the top of your neck down the column of your spine, encouraging you to arch your back. Your cheeks meet the cool feel of the wall beneath you and the corners of your lips rise in a little smirk. Fucking finally.

He grips the sides of your waist, and palms down the length of your body, admiring the softness of your skin and the way your body naturally responds to his touch. Once at your hips, his fingers hook under the fabric of your panties and he rips the thin fabric, literally tearing it off your body.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groans. You stay pressed against the wall with your back arched for him and whisper something that almost sounds like a please. He unbuckles the metal on his belt and shoves his pants down his thighs in a haste. There’s something especially filthy about it – you fully nude in front of him, while his clothes barely cling on. He’s too voracious to fully undress or relocate to his bedroom. It has to be right here, right now.

With one hand, he grabs his heavy cock and gives it a few strokes. He uses the weeping tip of it and drags it through your already wet folds, collecting the mixture of your sick and his pre-come to coat the length of him.

He nestles himself at the entrance of your cunt, “Ready for me, baby,” to which you can only reply a muffled need you. He presses himself into your wet heat, and you let out a little moan, one mixed with a twinge of pain, but mostly pleasure. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes, and your jaw falls slack as he pushes himself further and further inside of you with every thrust. You’re already in ecstasy and he’s not even fully inside yet.

“Fuck, I can barely fit,” he mutters, “so tight, baby. Relax f’me” And something about his voice, the silkiness and commanding parts of it, causes you to listen. You take a deep breath and urge yourself to calm the walls that swallow him. And it works because, with one more thrust of his hips, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you. You feel so full you swear you can feel him in your lungs, but it’s such an exhilarating feeling that you can’t imagine what it feels like to not have him inside of you.

“Taking this cock so god damn well, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice low. “Gonna move now, okay? Tell me if it hurts.” As he retreats, there’s a dull sting, stemming from a stretch you’re not used to, but it’s not particularly a bad feeling, just new. Your eyes flutter closed and he continues to work into you, acclimating your body to his. It doesn’t take long, your pussy responds to him in kindness, devouring it like it was made for him. Joel lets out his own wrecked groan of approval and begins to fuck you in earnest. Each movement of his hips smushes your face against the wall. The friction on your cheek should hurt, but it doesn’t. It’s adding fuel to the fire raging between your bodies.

With one hand holding you steady as he fucks into you, the other snakes around to the front of your body, and his thick fingers find your puffy and sensitive clit. He adds the slightest bit of pressure and begins to rub circles on it. “Oh my god, Joel, please – ah, please don’t stop.”

“‘M not stopping, baby. Feels too good,” he adds, his voice wrecked. The feeling of his warm chest pressed up against you, the fullness of him inside of you, and the attention he gives your body with his fingers is so intense you swear you see god.

You have given yourself many orgasms before, but you can tell that the orgasm that threatens to rip through your body is electric, different. You feel the familiar spread of pleasure that starts in your belly and emanates outwards, and within seconds you’re gone. Your breathing stops altogether, your ears ring, and your knees go weak as Joel fucks you through it.

Joel groans and drops his head to your shoulder. You coming on his cock nearly undoes him, gripping around the thick shape of him in a way he didn’t realize was physically possible. “Shit darlin’, so good for me, ‘m not gonna last much longer,” he says with an urgency behind his voice. “Where do you want me?”

“Come inside me, please want to feel it, need all of you,” you beg, and that’s all he needs to hear. He knows it’s risky, but he’s good with risk. Joel lives and breathes risk nearly every day of his life. Besides, no risk has never felt so fucking good.

You can tell from the way his breathing eradicates that he’s close. With a final stutter of his hips and his cock is deep inside of you, he empties himself, painting your cervix with so much come that your pussy can hardly hold it. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, panting against your skin. After he catches his breath, he holds your hips steady and slowly pulls out, a little glob of his release falling to the hardwood floors below as he does. Your palm comes to cup your sex as if to hold the rest of it inside of you, still wanting to have part of him inside of you, and you turn back around to face him. The feeling of the cool wall on your back offers a stark contrast to the heat of his body.

Now that you’re both finally satisfied, you stand there looking at each other. Part of you expects something to feel different, but it doesn’t. His hand comes to cup your cheek, and he plants a soft kiss on your lips. “We still have dessert, you know,” he says, gazing at you with a tenderness that causes your stomach to swoop.

You're beginning to understand that what you feel for him goes beyond mere physical desire.

What once started as a little spark in kindling, now threatens to burn the whole damn house down.

W I N T E R

As autumn relinquishes its vibrant hold on New York, a gradual transformation unfolds, marking the seamless transition into winter. The once-lush tapestry of fall foliage succumbs to the chill in the air. The streets, once adorned with a carpet of golden leaves, now echo with the crisp sound of footsteps on pavement.

Ever since your first official date a few months ago, you both have been inseparable, only parting to go to work. You take turns switching apartments, leaving practically no surface unfucked on – the couch, the kitchen floor, the dining room table – it’s all fair game.

You’ve both conceded that it’s best to do date night at home, given both of you can’t keep your hands off each other for long. It always starts out innocent, a flirty look across the table, a wink in the elevator, and before you know it his fingers are knuckle deep inside of you, curling against the spongey spot that makes you weak for him.

You and Joel haven’t officially put a name to what you are, or what this is, but for now you don’t mind. You’re content in your little cocoon of bliss.

It’s Saturday night, and Joel’s at the station for the weekend. You’re cozied up under a hand-knitted blanket, an early christmas gift courtesy of your aunt. Not by her hands, of course, she could never be bothered with such a thing. “Saw this at an adorable little market in Florence. New York is cold in the winter, stay warm. Happy holidays, darling. Love you dearly,” the hand penned note read.

You’re watching a rerun of Sex and the City, the episode where Carrie is high and yells “Fuck the chicken wings! Where did we put the fucking pot?” A half bottle of red and a handful of Sang Garden to-go cartons are spread out on the coffee table in front of you.

When you called to order, you didn’t have to even give them your selections since your voice is so obviously recognizable. The older lady on the phone – Mei, you’ve come to learn – is curt as usual, “Okay, see you in 10 minutes.” As you picked up your order, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw they had given you double the orange chicken and a side of fried rice, your new usual now that Joel is in the picture.

They even threw in a handful of extra fortune cookies, Joel’s favorite. Your heart swells to the memory of him telling you the history of the cookie, his mouth full of half of one, “they’re not even from China,” he told you, “Best guess is that they’re from Japan. Learned about it from the History Channel.”

He’s like that, an encyclopedia of random knowledge and facts, a geek in his own right. At first glance, he exudes an aura of calm competence and strength, but the deeper you get to know him, the clearer it becomes that he basically has the same energy of a golden retriever.

Midway through the episode, your phone buzzes with a text from him.

“Pretty slow over here tonight, what are you doing baby?”

“Just watching a show, wish you were here,” you quickly reply. You hardly have time to place your phone on your chest before he responds.

“Sex and the City or Friends?”

The smile that graces your face is like a teenager with her first crush. He knows you so well.

“Sex and the City. Ordered Sang for dinner, they gave me double the orange chicken and fried rice, and like a million fortune cookies. Did you eat yet?” you reply.

“Not yet. Gonna bring me some?” he replies, half-joking.

Now there’s an idea.

You unintentionally leave him on read, too excited at the thought of seeing him at work, as you throw your phone across the couch and toss the blanket off your legs. You package up the leftovers and change. Nothing too risque given it’s less than 20 degrees outside, but it’s an outfit you know Joel likes. A white tee-shirt, a soft cardigan, your favorite pair of jeans, and your waterproof booties. If there’s anything that you’ve learned since moving to New York, it’s that quality shoes are essential.

You snag your coat and scarf, bundling up against the crisp night air, leftovers in hand, and stride out the door. The winter chill doesn't bite too harshly tonight, making you skip the cab and opt for a walk – a bonus being the journey through Little Italy to reach the firehouse. The atmosphere in New York this time of year is nothing short of magical – street lamps adorned with twinkling lights, plush pine trees peeking from nearly every window. You always wondered what Christmas time in New York might look like, and now you’re glad you know.

As you make your way through the city, you pass by Ferrara Cafe and your attention is captivated by the sight of fresh cannolis being stuffed through the windows. A spontaneous decision leads you inside to snag a dozen or so as a surprise for Joel and the guys. He’s told you so much about them over the past few months, and as much as you’re excited to finally meet them, well – except for Lieutenant Franklin – you’re a tad nervous, too. With the firehouse now in view, that feeling only intensifies.

Since both of your hands are full, you place the paper bag full of cannolis between your teeth and use your free hand to grab your phone from your pocket. You type out a quick “Surprise! Come outside,” and finish the walk to the station. Standing near the front entrance with both bags in hand, your attention turned to the street, the door to the firehouse opens and a low voice greets you. Except it’s not…

“Well hey there, Darlin’,” he says, his voice slightly muffled from the toothpick in his mouth.

A cascade of dark curls crowns his head, his skin maintaining a sun-kissed glow despite the season. He boasts a broad, muscular frame, one that demands attention. The way he casually addresses you with a familiar "Darlin'" leaves you with little doubt. "You must be Tommy," you sweetly greet.

“And you must be the neighbor girl who’s got my brother stopping to smell the roses,” he responds with a little chuckle.

“Guilty as charged,” you smile, a little embarrassed, although you know you have no reason to be. You don’t miss the way his eyes drag up and down your frame. Joel had told you that Tommy was a bit of a flirt, and now you see why.

“Come on now, it’s cold out here,” he says, holding the door open for you. You don’t know Tommy, not really, but from what you can tell he probably has the same impeccable southern manners as his brother. You practically feel his eyes on your ass as you walk through the door. Okay, maybe not exactly the same manners.

Once inside the station, you let out a little sigh, happy to finally be back in a warm building. You turn to face Tommy and ask, “Joel’s here, right?” and before he can respond, Joel is within eyeshot of you, “Right here, sweetheart,” he says, looking at you in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

You swear time slows down as he approaches, like a real-life Hallmark movie. You see him all the time, but seeing him in uniform at the firehouse, causes a rush of arousal to flow through you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, “what’s all this?” he asks.

“Oh uh, well, it’s dinner and a surprise,” you say, your voice slightly shrill; an octave higher than usual, a little caught up in your affection.

“Yeah?” he says, grabbing the bags from you, a genuine excitement to his voice.

“Orange chicken, some fried rice and a ridiculous amount of fortune cookies for you,” you continue, “and cannolis from Ferrara for you and the guys,” you finish.

“Cannolis!” Tommy exclaims, “Let me take this off your hands,” he says, snatching the bag from Joel, pushing through the both of you before disappearing to the kitchen to share the goodies with his team. While they’re both grown men, there are some things that will always remain true, and Tommy fighting his brother for sweets is one of those things. You smile in amusement and let out a little laugh. Joel shakes his head but you notice the corners of his lips lift into a smile as he does.

“Real sweet of you to drop by,” he says as he grabs your hand, and yanks it forward so your chest is snuggled against his. His lips fall to yours, and you let out a little moan at the warmth of them. While there are many things to love about Joel Miller, one of your favorites, especially this time of year is that he’s basically a walking space heater. His skin and touch always so warm, so inviting. He feels cozy. Homey even.

He intertwines his fingers through yours, and signals you to follow him, “Come on, I’ll give ya a tour.”

++++

Joel walks you down this hallway that's practically a living museum of memories. There are framed photos of the crew in their dress blues, badges marking moments of bravery, a worn-out flag from an engine that responded to 9/11, and even a tribute wall for the firehouse dogs that have been part of the family over the years. It's like each inch of this hallway has its own story, echoing with the sacrifice, tight bonds, and history that define this firehouse.

The air is alive with the sounds of camaraderie and the clatter of boots against the station's scuffed floors. As you pass by the living quarters, Joel points out the communal spaces where the team gathers after a call. You smile as you see all of the guys huddle around the kitchen table, the cannolis spread out on a paper plate in the middle of it. You hear one of the guys whisper don’t tell my wife about this one as he reaches for what you assume must be his second – third? – cannoli.

He guides you past the kitchen, where the lingering aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the savory scent of yesterday's family dinner. He pauses there to momentarily put the food you brought him in the fridge before continuing.

He shows you the training room, where the team hones their skills and drills to perfection. Joel explains the importance of constant readiness and practice.

You walk past a set of stairs, and he tells you that’s where the beds and showers are. “Can’t take you up there though or I might get a little bold,” he chuckles and you lift one eyebrow to him in amusement, wishing he would. You have to admit the thought of Joel fucking you with the rest of his team below, completely unaware, is kind of hot. It turns on more than it probably should.

Finally, the tour leads to the heart of the firehouse—the garage. The massive red fire trucks and the white ambulance gleam under the fluorescent lights. It smells a bit like gas, oil slick, and soap. You remember Joel telling you that they clean the firetrucks multiple times a day, something about the importance of taking care of the city’s multi-million dollar equipment, but you zoned out a little bit at the end of his speech, too distracted by his mouth as it moved.

There are giant puffy black uniform pants neatly puddled and unbuckled on the floor, ready to be stepped into for whenever the alarm signals.

You step further into the space, and Joel gestures towards the impressive array of equipment and black and yellow uniforms neatly hanging on racks, small locker shelves above each rack. You see that each hook has a last name above it. You see T. Miller above one, but you don’t see J. Miller.

You run your hand along the uniforms adorned on the racks, and look at Joel as you ask, “And where is your rack, Captain Miller?” and fuck, you haven’t called him Captain since that first morning in his apartment. Somehow your question sounds just as provocative as it did the first time you asked him, You gonna let me say thank you properly for last night, Captain Miller?

The memory of it causes his cock to flinch. He adjusts himself. You notice.

He clears his throat, and tilts his head to the adjacent wall. “Uh, mine’s over here. Keep mine separate so Tommy and I don’t mix ours up,” he answers. You walk over to his space, and see his name. There’s a black helmet resting on the hook, a large white plaque in the front of it with blocky letters that say “33”, his last name “MILLER” above the numbers, and “NEW YORK” below them.

Your hand darts out to touch it, and you trace your fingers over his last name. You pick it up and put it on your head, and look at Joel. “How do I look?” you ask, a cheeky tone to your voice, “think I pull this off?” Joel lets out a low groan of approval. Seeing you in his helmet almost does more for him than seeing you in his uniform shirt.

“Look mighty fine in my clothes, Darlin’,” he says while sauntering to where you stand and closing the gap between your bodies. His large palm reaches out to grab your wrist. He traces the pad of his thumb over your pulse and your breathing hitches in your throat. Even after all this time, his presence alone still has that effect on you. You’re convinced he could stop a Mack Truck on the freeway with his gaze alone.

“Yeah? Think I’d be good at putting out fires,” you ask, lifting your eyes to his, peering at him through your lashes, your view slightly obstructed by the plastic.

“I think you’re good at startin’ em,” he responds, amused. You give him a little smirk and pull your wrist from his grip as you walk over to the firetruck. You casually lean against it, feeling the cool metal on your back.

“Oh come on, I could put out fires! In case you haven’t heard, I own a fire extinguisher now,” you playfully tease, still keeping your eyes locked on his.

Of course he knows, he’s the one that bought it for you and walked you through how to safely discharge it.

You drop your gaze to his crotch and are pleased to see a hardness forming there, probably from the memory of his demonstration and how less than two minutes into it your lips were wrapped around his throbbing cock.

“You’re not paying attention, Darlin’, this is important,” he had said, not trying to stop you, not really, as you unbuckled his pants.

“I’m paying perfect attention, and I agree, this is important,” you responded, giving him your own lesson on how to discharge something.

Fresh off the heels of his little trip down memory lane, he walks over to you and meets you at the fire truck. His arm extends, placing his flat palm assertively on the metal above your head, revealing his sculpted bare bicep. You’re basically caged in by his body. Simultaneously, his other hand confidently finds your waist, and he tilts his face to kiss your lips. You feel his hard cock pressing back at you and it makes you whimper with desire. Your palm comes to grope the thick shape of him and he groans in response.

“Can’t do this here, baby,” he says. He takes a step back and you shrug against the firetruck.

“Hmm,” you respond. “I agree, this would be much better,” you say, stepping onto the firetruck. He’s not sure what comes over him, you just have that effect on him, but he follows you onto the rig.

It’s not as big as the outside might make it seem, but there are four decent sized black seats, two on each side facing each other. In between each seat is a row of radios, headgear, and caution vests.

Once on the truck, you think you might have to coax him to get what you want, but instead, you’re met with, “Pants off. Now. Gonna have to be quick about this, baby,” he says as he undoes the buckle of his belt and pulls his pants down, taking his underwear with it to reveal his massive package.

You do as he says, not having to worry about your panties, considering you opted for none. It drives Joel crazy anytime he sees you’ve gone commando. His helmet is still on your head, and your nipples are hard beneath your shirt. The sight of him alone has you wet and Joel can tell by the way your inner thighs gleam with slick.

He takes his place on one of the seats and holds his heavy cock by the base of it, positioning it straight up. “See what you do to me,” he groans, and gives his length a few strokes. “Come on darlin’, come take your seat,” and jesus. Commanding Joel is hot. You understand why they made him captain.

You position your legs to stand above him and begin to lower yourself onto his cock. Your eyes flutter closed at the sting from the stretch of him. You’re wet enough, it’s just that he’s so fucking big.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” Joel says, and you do. He lets out a low wrecked groan of pleasure as your cunt swallows him. You feel the coarse hair at the base of him against your clit.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me,” Joel groans, and you begin to slowly move up and down his shaft, “fucking made f’me,” his filthy words cause you to shudder and move faster.

“Touch your clit,” he orders. You steady yourself on his cock by placing one hand on his shoulder, using the other to rub your middle finger over your clit. You make figure eight patterns with your hips and it’s so good, so intense. His hands leave a bruise grip on your ass as he helps you grind into him. You’re close, Joel can tell by the way your walls clamp around him.

“Come for me, pretty girl, wanna see you,” he says, as he brings his mouth to your clothed nipple and offers it a gentle bite. You moan, a little too loud, caught up in the sensation of the thick drag of him in and out of your heat.

‘Gotta be quiet for me tho, darlin’,” he says as one of his hands finds its way to your mouth to silence you. With you now utterly quiet, the clapping sound of your thighs fills the air. He juts his hips up into you as you continue to ride him, and the tip of his cock brushes up against your cervix. With a few more strokes, you feel your sweet release rush through you like you’re nothing but a pool of gas ignited with a match.

“Atta girl,” he praises, “so good for me, so pretty when you come all over my cock.”

It’s not long before Joel feels his wave of pleasure build. You pant as you do your best to continue riding him through your fucked out state, a sheen of sweat on your neck and face. His grip on your body tightens, “ah fuck, fuck,” he moans as he releases hot ropes of come inside of you. His forehead drops to your chest and you card your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sticky and delicious feeling of being full of him.

Once he catches his breath, he looks up at you and your lips connect.

In the middle of your kiss, a sound you're both familiar with goes off.

The alarm.

The voice of a 9-1-1 dispatcher chimes through the speakers, “Engine 21, we have a stage three structural fire at 4145 Reed St. All units report.”

Shit.

You lift his helmet from your head and place it on his head before rising to stand.

“Off you go then, Captain, I’ll see you at home,” you say, rushing to get dressed as he does the same. You quickly jump off the truck and manage to sneak back into the firehouse unseen as the rest of the crew swirls down the firepole and rushes through the door to the truck.

Joel manages to get in uniform in record time, and is the first on the truck.

As the rest of the crew piles in, Tommy finds his seat next to Joel and gives him a knowing smirk. “Smells like sex in here,” he says.

Thankfully Joel is the only one who hears it. Joel feels heat rush up to his cheeks and before he can find the words to respond, the firetruck is barreling out of the station, sirens blaring.

You hear the loud call of the sirens fade in the distance as it drives further away, and you begin your walk back to your apartment.

++++

Once back at your apartment building, you don’t even bother to go to yours. You gather the mail that always inevitably collects on the floor by the entrance, and instead of stacking it into a pile at the base of the steps, you bring it up with you.

You lift the boring, grey door mat and reveal Joel’s spare key underneath it.

You slip the key into his lock and as it normally does, the space greets you with warmth. You grab a Bud Light from the fridge, and watch an episode of Friends before deciding to call it a night. You shower, once again using his shampoo and brush your teeth with the toothbrush that now permanently lives with Joel. You rummage through the wooden drawers in his bedroom and find the navy blue shirt with familiar blocky lettering that you’ve grown fond of.

As you crawl into his bed, you’re reminded of your first night in New York. And just like you did that night, you stare at the ceiling, paying no mind to the smile that’s been plastered on your face for not just the past three hours, the past few months.

You feel giddy, but not like a little girl seeing the stars for the first time, like a woman in love.

You’re doing it. You’re really doing it. You’re just not doing it alone anymore.

Maybe this was your aunts plan all along.

++++

Nearly 6am the next morning, Joel returns home to find you curled up, peacefully asleep in his bed. The now familiar sound of your soft snores fill the room. He hastily showers, and slips into the sheets with you, curling your body against his as he glides his arm under your pillow, being careful not to wake you. You let out a soft little moan, but for the most part are in the liminal space between your dream world and the real world. Not fully asleep, but not fully awake, either.

With his broad chest against your back, he uses his free hand to play with a loose strand of your hair. He can tell you used his shampoo again. He can’t help the dopey grin that erupts on his face.

He plants his lips against your temple.

It’s too soon.

He knows it’s too soon.

But maybe, just maybe…I mean, you’re asleep, right? You won’t hear. He has to get it out, the unspoken words burning in his chest.

He whispers a soft “I love you,” in your ear and allows himself to inhale your sweet scent mixed with lingering notes of him.

As he goes to roll over onto his side to go to sleep himself, he freezes as he hears you whisper back, “I love you, too.”

And boom.

With those simple words, the house – your heart – is no longer ablaze with a single flickering flame.

It’s on fire with an intensity you’re not sure could ever be extinguished.

END

Tags: @endlessthxxghts @sydneyinacoma @theoasisofthings @pedrostories @meabhogr @bastardmandennis @untamedheart81 @lavema @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @dugiioh @nervoushottee @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @peachmy @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @brittmb115 @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @morallyinept @tobesolovelysstuff @notsosecretspy @alokaerza @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @morgaussy @missladym1981

As always, feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list, or removed (even if we're moots, no hard feelings). I'll still be using my tag list for now, but I just started a notifs blog, so will be transitioning to that eventually. Please follow @katiexpunkupdates to get notified when I post fics.xx

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal #new york #firefighter smut #sex on fire #pedro stories

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fruitsalad864 · 3 months

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Fable SMP Commission Experience 7/7 + Bonus Images!

In this section, I'll be sharing sketches from what I call "Scene 6: Finale," which includes the moment Centross looks up at Fable up to the conclusion. Also included are some thank yous and some bonus images!

"Centross smiles at Fable. Centross pulls Fable close into a hug, stabbing through Centross' heart. Centross looks up across the cave."

In the colored version, I believe John was the one who added some purple in the eyes of Centross looking up! Very nice touch! It makes Centross look more like the one in control of how the fight will go.

When Centross gets impaled by the sword, I wanted to make sure to get a good shot of it going though his chest with some blood on the blade, especially the dribbling bits.

"The reaver is flung spinning across the cave towards both of them. It impales through Fable. A golden light glows around Fable and is sucked into the reaver. Blood begins to ooze from Fable’s wound for the first time ever. He is stripped of his immortality."

This is the big one! I was trying to figure out how best to portray the light absorbed by the Reaver. I settled for a crackling energy, kind of like Zeus and his lightning bolts!

In the final, I emphasized the impact of the Reaver through Fable with blood spurting from his mouth. His body is hazy near his waist because I wanted to show that the borders of his physical body were beginning to dissolve.

I'm not sure if this was an intentional part on the writers' ends, but I'm a big fan of how this scene is a direct contrast to Centross and the souls! The contrast between purple energy being given vs yellow energy being taken...cinema.

In the final, I snuck in a hazy image of a skull on the Reaver's gem as a little bit of a treat!

"Centross headbutts Fable, who falls backwards, stunned. Centross shakily stands to his feet..."

An unused close-up of a teary, bloody, sweaty Fable. He has been undone! He's never had to keep track of so many fluids before!

It completely slipped my mind to draw in the headbutt scene, so I mostly worked it in digital.

"A loud heart thumps as part of Centross becomes stardust... More of him becomes stardust..."

The doodles are a bit lackluster, but I knew that I wanted this sequences to be very colorful and luminescent with a hazy brush. The scene transitions back to the smooth brush in order to show that the action has mostly calmed down.

"He looks towards Icarus... He turns to Fable."

For the frame Icarus is in, I wanted to make sure to emphasize his distress, confusion, and sadness. Lots of tears and furrowed brows.

For the frame Fable is in, I wanted to emphasize the loss of his immortality and pride. He's on the floor, nursing a new wound and drained of power and life.

"His body is almost fully stardust...Blackness...Centross’ eyes flutter open, glowing violet irises and pitch black scleras."

His face was not at all legible in the sketch. I wanted his eyes to look like they were beginning to close, but it wasn't reading well in digital. I'm much happier with the final product.

Although Centross is inhabiting a void, I still wanted there to be a sense of space and emptiness, so I layered some thick black brushstrokes in an overlapping pattern in the final.

Last Words:

I understand that these past few posts have been very lengthy! I don't expect anyone to read ALL of my notes (but if you did, holy smokes, many thanks). These are just mostly here for me to practice explaining my creative choices.

This project had a pretty tight deadline (a little under a month), but I feel like our team was very efficient and responsible about getting the work done in time! A little pressure goes a long way.

I'm thinking of opening up commissions or a small print shop in the future! I'll be sure to make an announcement for when that happens.

I'm very open to any future Fable SMP projects or collaborations! You guys are all very lovely and creative, and I always like hearing about new projects.

And now, some thanks!

Thank you to Centross for the opportunity to create this cutscene! It was really fun showing you my sketches and getting your feedback on them. This project really helped me flex my art muscles, and I'm grateful to have met you and become friends!

Thank you to @strawberripine for keeping me company in the wee hours of the night as I was trying to finalize in digital! Your presence helped me to keep focus and not sweat about the small stuff!

Thank you to @sherbertquake56 for editing the scenes into a finalized product! It was really cool to see how the visuals and audio flowed together!

Thank you to @johnyyyyyboy, who put in a ton of work on backgrounds and lighting! It really helped to elevate all the action that was occurring!

Thank you to the Fable cast members for the kind words of support throughout the process! You all are a lovely creative bunch, and I'm sorry that when I met some of you in person, I was having a bit of trouble engaging in conversation!

Last but not least, thank you to the Fable SMP audience for enjoying the cutscene! A lot of work was put into it, and it was very gratifying to see everyone's reactions in real time! You all have a nice community, and it's so cool to see everyone's cosplays, fanart, fanfiction, etc.

Until the next time I crawl out from my cave,

Fruit 💙

#drawing #sketch #fruitsart #fable smp #fsmp #centross #fruitchat #mcyt #icarus morningstar #rae morningstar

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ao3cassandraic · 9 months

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Heaven and Hell as surveillance states

@princess-spock responding to The Fiasco says:

The Metatron probably IS watching, although it can't be too close by because he's never visible through the windows… But, so what? If Aziraphale wants help, what's to prevent him from just ASKING Crowley for it? If the Metatron was able to perceive anything Aziraphale did or said at a distance, Aziraphale would be unable to eventually plot against him, so the Metatron CAN'T be that perceptive. Turned backs are sufficient to thwart lip reading, lol.

Solid observation. Let's explore it. (I mentioned I'm a privacy wonk, I think. No way am I gonna miss an opportunity to privacy-wonk at all of Tumblr!)

One thing I did while I was pondering The Final Fifteen Minutes was watch it with the sound muted and captions off. I'm not the greatest at connecting facial expressions with emotions (not neurodivergent as far as I know, just kind of clueless, this takes effort and attention for me), so I needed the lack of distraction.

I recommend this. It did help clarify things for me. And, of course, it gives an idea of the level of drama Metatron can see through the bookshop window even if he can't hear or lipread the actual words. Frankly, though, would you put a surveillance miracle (or a simple plant of what Earth humans call a "bug" in the bookshop -- he has plenty of opportunity) past the fucking Metatron? I wouldn't. But I'm not the point. Would Aziraphale think this possible? How would it impact his conduct in the Final Fifteen Minutes?

From the chinwag, Aziraphale learns that the Metatron's been hunting through Heaven's records to figure out that Crowley and Aziraphale are an item. (As I said, chilling. Just the "I've been watching you two" implication must be a real oh-fuck moment for our poor angel.) Exactly how much he knows, we don't know and Aziraphale doesn't know. It could be a lot... and it gives the Metatron a psychological advantage over Aziraphale to leave that question open, let Aziraphale imagine that the Metatron could know anything about them, or even everything.

Now, there's plenty we don't know about how Heavenly surveillance works and how extensive it is, especially on Earth. In s1, Michael rocks up to Gabriel with surveillance photos of Crowley and Aziraphale on a random park bench. But Michael's pretty incompetent with things Earthly -- she barely manages to figure out a matchbox. I wouldn't take those photos as the limit of what Heaven's or Hell's systems can do on Earth.

Saraqael, Heaven's Only Competent Angel, is pretty adept with the Realtime Big Globe, also a surveillance mechanism. She doesn't expand the archangels' view on the sceptred isle past what's needed to detect the miracle plume -- but then, at that point she believes she's shown what they need to know, why bother looking further? So we don't know how deep or detailed that globe's viewport can go! Judging from his actions in s1, Aziraphale barely knows how to make the globe work; he doesn't know either. So as far as he's concerned, it could be capable of any level of realtime surveillance at any place on Earth. Does the Metatron have an accomplice using it to keep an eye on the bookshop? (I actually don't think so -- the Gaiman-Finnemore brain trust tends to be more parsimonious than that -- but Aziraphale has little on which to base a guess. It's possible, to him.)

We do know Aziraphale and Crowley fear the possibilities. Why else would Crowley insist on doing a miracle to shield Jimbriel from recognition, practically first thing after he and Aziraphale reconcile?

We also get a pretty substantial clue that Hell's surveillance systems on Earth can hear words -- if they couldn't, why would Crowley care so much about never being called nice or kind or good? Furfur surveilling the Spider Shit Cell can hear the flies screaming, another hint.

So we know, from all this and from Muriel's full-color meeting-Zoom records, that Heaven is a surveillance state in the Bentham-panopticon, Orwell Nineteen Eighty-Four tradition, and Heaven treats Earth as a surveillance target as well. The surveillance state is even more obvious in Hell; Furfur's a cog in that wheel.

The slight twist away from Bentham and Orwell is that Heaven's surveillance systems don't seem to be monitored 24/7/365 the way Bentham's prison or Oceania's telescreens are. Instead, the Realtime Big Globe gets an occasional pinch-and-zoom, and otherwise surveillance records pile up unheeded in Muriel's office until somebody cares enough to consult them, which isn't often ("once every few hundred years" according to Muriel).

So it's intermittent, unpredictable surveillance, consultable whenever anyone cares enough. And from research on Earth humans (um, I'm going to put a CW for abuse on this post, because a fair chunk of this research involves survivors of domestic and intimate-partner abuse, also those who live in oversurveilled areas or are subject to bossware), we know that under constant or intermittent-unpredictable surveillance, people develop strict internal self-governors for their own conduct -- stricter than their surveillors expect of them, even. They often become anxious, expecting accusation or attack from any corner at any moment. Distressingly often, surveillance all by itself (no additional abuse necessary) causes clinically-significant trauma.

Does this sound like our Ineffables to you? Does to me. (It's also mirrored in Lindsay's treatment of Nina.) They know they can get away with a fair bit, because they build up a track record of doing so -- Heaven is largely indifferent and possible to trick, God is outright oblivious, and both Heaven and Hell seem to operate on a peer-to-peer surveillance model where you only get watched when somebody's trying to rat you out (see: Furfur going after Crowley in 1941). But the consequences of being successfully ratted out are dire -- Falling, in Heaven; whatever happened to Crowley at the end of the Resurrectionist minisode, in Hell.

Again, Aziraphale finds out during the chinwag that the Metatron has taken an interest in him and Crowley, enough to comb through the records. So even if the Metatron can't read lips, even if he hasn't planted a bookshop bug -- given that Heaven's a surveillance state and he knows the Metatron's out there watching and can consult Heaven's surveillance records for additional details afterwards, strict kayfabe will be Aziraphale's likeliest defensive response, and quite reasonably so.

Not least because the Metatron is by no means the typical incompetent Heaven angel. He handles himself on Earth perfectly! He's not omniscient or infallible, but he's only the tiniest bit lacking in clue! If Aziraphale's extra-cautious in the bookshop, knowing that the Metatron's involved in this mess, that's only common sense!

So I'm standing pat on Aziraphale kayfabing his poor little heart out with Crowley, for now. (As always, my metas are subject to revision and reinterpretation! I'm way too Former Litrachoor Scholar to insist on a single set-in-stone interpretation of anything ever.)

#gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers #good omens #ineffable husbands #the fucking metatron #heaven and hell are surveillance states #the final fifteen minutes #tw abuse #cw abuse #good omens meta #heaven and hell

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bunitivity · 4 months

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I need to talk about zosopp so badly, long wall of text incoming!!! Sorryyy <:3

They are my comfort pairing and tbh goals

I need to tell you about Usopp being very clingy and touchy and gosh they hold hands so much but really most of the time it's so that Zoro doesn't get lost and it's pretty comforting for the sniper.

I need to tell u about it's (mostly) one sided awkwardness and how despite being so touch starved Usopp freaks out about kissing and touching and gets really shy he starts blabbering nonsense and it feels like he'll never get used to how small his hand feels in Zoro's and how much tougher the older's skin is and how it looks a lot oaler compared to his own tone and---!!!

And Zoro's not one to get shy about the touching. He doesn't really see anything special about it (why of course just because it's not a big deal for him he still respects Usopp's boundaries) but whenever he feels they haven't interacted in a while outside if simple tasks, small battles or insignificant misadventures he will start thinking about how he could show affection to his partner and remind him that he loves him because of course Usopp needs to hear it a lot (even if Zoro believes word's don't do much, they seem to have a big impact on his boyfriend, so he'll keep doing it.) So he ends up with flowers. Usopp likes flowers, right? He has a whole freaking garden (or not much of a garden, but still, a seperate flowerbed) of plants. Even though they're not very flowery, he'd still like flowers, right? When they dock on an island, it couldn't hurt to get him a few daisies, as pretty as him. 2 is too little. 3...sounds practical, but still...Definitely not 4. 6 should do...Well, no, maybe 8? Urgh, even 10 still feel like a small amount.

Every flower Zoro ever tried to bring to Usopp died in the ugliest way possible. The petals would fall and leaves would break and if he ever had to carry it for longer than a minute or so it would get all wrinkly and crumpled no matter how gently he tried to hold it. He must be cursed! But once Usopp had found a forgotten by Zoro flower in his pocket and found it too beautiful to throw away, even in that condition. So he put it in his sketchbook as a decoration. Though he didn't know ut was supposed to be a gift to him (a failed gift) he still enjoyed it. And he kept sometimes finding other flowers in Zoro's pockets for a while and took them for himself too, finally realizing that, perhaps, they were meant for him in the first place. Which sounded really romantic and funny to him: Zoro bringing him flowers. Though later, Usopp would talk to him about how it's better to buy plants in pots, since they live longer, suffer less and look much more beautiful and bring more happiness, when they're in a healthier environment. Zoro nodded, Usopp knows better.

ARGHHH how I'm so crazy about zosopp angst. Usopp constantly using Zoro as his role model, trying to be brave and strong like him, which often leaves him overthinking. He's very used to being more excited, creative, carefree. He wouldn't want to limit himself to Zoro's level of self-expression. He doesn't think he needs to necessarily, but he's awfully insecure about being interesting to Zoro.

Which, if you ask the swordsman, is a really stupid reason to worry about because Usopp is his silly little guy and that's fucking awesome!!! Because Zoro has a small thing (which I ,personally, suffer from as well) when he doesn't really show much positive emotion. What I mean is, of course he smiles when he gets excited or if he sees or hears something funny, and of course he CAN smile just because, but his neutral face is just very very grumpy, as if he's always serious and responsible (which of course he's not, he only seems reasonable when it's just him and his captain) and really it makes things so complicated sometimes, because he doesn't intend on ruining the mood and making a conversation awkward during the small time him and his boyfriend have on their so called "dates" but Usopp still does feel pressured looking at him sometimes and it makes Zoro really cringe at his lack of control over his face, but really, he'd rather look a little grumpy than make a face straight out of a horror movie ( me too man)

And then there's Usopp comforting Zoro on how he's not upset at all, and how he loves him a lot and it's just them getting used to eachother being so close. Because you never know, even if you've been friends for so long, there's still something that might come up later, and that's okay, as long as you try to make it work. Usopp genuinely loves Zoro: the way he talks, what he says, what he does. And in the end, he will do his best to return this love, so that they both can feel at peace.

And then there's Zoro comforting Usopp about how he is fine as he is. And that he LOVES, absolutely ADORES him. That he loves his jokes and the way he talks, that he doesn't mind listening, because he prefers listening, that Usopp genuinely makes him laugh and that he wouldn't want to change that for the world. He genuinely loves *him* and that's okay to be yourself, because Zoro needs him as he is. And because Zoro believes in him. So Zoro makes sure Usopp always believes in himself, honestly believes. Zoro remembers, because Usopp made a promise to him. And he wouldn't be a real warrior if he broke it, wouldn't he?

Ah zosopp my beloved! I really feel you about the zosopp angst usopp would be constantly comparing himself to zoro even though they have completely different strengths and fighting styles. Usopps skills don’t really require big muscles the same way zoros who often have to go toe to toe with powerful opponents who rely on brute strength. The fact that usopp is always forced into close combat despite being a long distance fighter is the reason why he often comes off as weak. The two times he gets to shine(ennies lobby/dressrosa) are when he gets to do exactly what he’s meant to do and both times he exceeds expectations. Something that I’m sure zoro will very bluntly reminds him about lol.

I really love the idea of zoro bringing usopp flowers that’s so cute and him randomly just finding flowers in his pants (and zoros pockets lmao) makes me🥺 so I had to draw it

#This was so lovely to see in my notifications thank you!#don’t worry about rambling I love it #also I tend to ramble too :p #zosopp #asks #my art #hcs asks

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fandomfluffandfuck · 10 months

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Okay. So, I have a hand full of prompts, and I was gonna send them in one by one, but I thought of this, and I could barely write it down fast enough to keep up with what I was thinking, and I *need* to share it.

Oviposition, where Bucky buys some fancy kind of eggs that absorb water. He puts them in Steve, and leaves them there all day, to 'gestate' making him drink lots of water to make sure they're nice and big and then watches him push them out one by one at the end of the day. Exasuting himself as he lays them slowly. And once he's got them all out, and he's falling asleep, Bucky slowly pushes them back in, knowing that they'll both want to to it all over agin tomorrow. -🐍

Oh, nice! I look forward to seeing them. Hopefully, you can deal with waiting for me to slowly work through all the requests I have and get to them lol

First and foremost, I have to recommend a fic by @thiccbuckybarnesfic I know you said Steve gets filled with eggs, and we'll get to that, I promise, but this fic deals with Bucky being egged(?)

"serpentine serenade" by thiccbuckybarnes

*Note: be very careful with insertable eggs. Do your research! If they eggs are going up your ass (or your vagina, but especially your ass), they need to be absorbable. Otherwise, they'll get stuck, and you'll end up in the ER. Not fun for anyone.

I imagine that the appeal of ovipostion for Steve is mainly the fullness that comes with it. He's always enjoyed having big things up his ass (he's quite the size queen, too, and he has been since he was pre-serum). Stretching him out. Pushing deep inside. It's good.

Eggs, enough of them, hit that button. The chase for fullness.

Fulfillment.

Oviposition also hits Steve's adventurous side, too. He projects fearlessness. He's not fearless. Really, he's eager to challenge his fear. He will smile with all his teeth and dive head first into fear to conquer it. So, the idea of something completely foreign--whether it's the mental image of the eggs being from aliens or whatever, or the eggs simply just not being a dick or dildo--going inside him is adventurous and exciting and frightening. He wants it. More of it.

Bucky, however, enjoys the prolonged and profound effect ovipostion has on Steve. The length of an ovipostion scene is delectable... pushing them in... letting Steve enjoy them... (in this case) waiting for them to expand to their full size... and pushing them out... all of it impacts Steve so much.

Bucky loves the way he squirms, swears, and sweats. Enjoying it. The effect of being able to alter Steve's outward appearance (not just his state of mind) is also part of it for Bucky. He revels in the way enough eggs will pooch out Steve's normally perfectly flat abdomen. He can change the way Steve looks temporarily, at least. That's a lot of power.

A lot of power that Steve willingly gives over, leaving Bucky intoxicated in the best way...

So, the eggs go into Steve easily because they both want it, want it badly, and Steve's got lots of practice taking stuff up his ass.

This is simple.

Steve's used to opening wide for fingers, for cock(s), for a fist, and for toys. His enhanced muscles might knit themselves together tightly after any injury or stretch but, Steve knows how to relax himself.

Four of Bucky's silver metal fingers glisten even more than normal with all the excess lube that's smeared around Steve's hole. Messy. Those hard, unrelenting fingers hold Steve's vulnerable, twitching hole wide open. He's all pink and wet. Smoother than anything down here. Between his cheeks. He got waxed recently.

It's cute.

Bucky would kiss him there, where he's soft and pink, just to hear him squeak, if he wasn't busy feeding smooth, round eggs into his hungry hole from the bowl beside him on the bed.

One by one...

Steve is propped up on a few stacked pillows to put his hole on display, open and ready for this. It would be more convenient if Steve we're on his back, but he isn't. Bucky likes to watch his abs slowly, slowly push out, which is easier to see like this. Steve likes to see it, too. He can feel himself fill up either way, but the rise of a bulge low between his hips is too good to pass up.

The eggs going inside Steve aren't big (not to Steve) yet. They're about the size of golf balls, non-expanded and very firm.

In they go.

One by one by one by one by one by one by one by one by one by one by one by one...

Little eggs. Smooth, blue, and slippery. Sliding in, then disappearing deep inside Steve where he's all dark, hot, and gooey. Perfect inside.

As they slip in, Steve gasps, heaves out breathes, and whimpers, "yesss!" on and off. Never consistent under the sudden spikes and waves of pleasure. Steve's fingers and toes curl periodically. Hands fighting between staying by his sides and exploring his stomach. More and more, he can feel where the eggs are going from the outside.

He's got a little bulge going.

His stomach.

Oh, God.

There isn't much hotter to Bucky than watching Steve touch himself like this. Touch his stomach. Curving his palm around the roundness. It's pornographic. Even more so when he starts squirming--shimmying his hips side to side, murmuring under his heavy breaths that he can feel the eggs, the balls, rolling around inside him, weighing him down, rounding him out like he's had too much to eat.

Soon, Bucky's flesh and blood hand is over his belly, too. Feeling him. And he's murmuring just like Steve is. But Bucky's telling him if Steve thinks he's full now, just wait... he's gonna show him what full is.

What full feels like.

His metal hand keeps stuffing eggs into him. Until he's sure it's enough.

When it's enough--enough that Bucky knows it will somewhat satisfy Steve for now and also stretch his stomach later--Steve whimpers. More. He wants more. He arches his back, throwing his head against the sheets, and grabs his stomach with both hands, trying to entice Bucky to give him more. Emphasizing the curve he has now.

Full.

No matter how much he looks like poetry in motion--those muscles pulling taut as he stretches, an obscene sound dripping off his lips, and feverish and pink with eyes and messy hair--Bucky doesn't give in. Steve doesn't know yet...

Steve doesn't know, he just trembles when Bucky slides a buttplug into him and tells him to squeeze tight and keep all that precious cargo inside him. Steve doesn't know, he just looks at Bucky with precious, empty-headed eyes and nods hazily when Bucky hands him a water bottle and tells him to drink. Steve doesn't know that it's not just the bottles of water transforming his belly from a slight curve to taut bump. Steve doesn't know, he's so lost in the growing weight between his hips. He walks funny like this... waddling almost. The plug inside him doesn't help at all. It rubs him so good inside. Against his prostate. Or... it might be the plug, it might be the eggs.

He stops pleading with eyes and wordless, pathetic sounds for more because he gets too lost in the now.

The eggs...

The ever-present seeming task of drinking water...

Eventually, after enough water and enough time, Steve is desperate to get the eggs out. He doesn't want more. He doesn't want to keep them in. He wants them out! He needs to get them out. Desperate. Like, eyes watering, red in the face, whimpering, and holding his stomach with the same air as he would clutch his cock if he really had to piss but couldn't type of desperate.

Yet, Bucky says he can't. Not yet.

Steve is going to have to start begging soon. The eggs need to come out! As good as it is to have them inside him--as good as it is to know that Bucky is the one who put them there--he can't. He can't. His body can't. His stomach has no more room, and his muscles can't.

Steve hasn't yet put together why suddenly it feels like so much. He just figures he's tired. He's been full for so long. Waddling around. Trying to go about his normal day and failing. He doesn't know the eggs have grown inside him.

Bigger and larger and bigger and...

Larger.

Mortifyingly enough, Steve realizes that if he's not allowed to push soon, his body is going to make the decision for him. No matter what his mind says--no matter how bad his body wants to obey Bucky. The eggs will come out and... and they'll... they'll drop into his sweatpants. An obvious, humiliating bulge between his legs. He can't keep them inside.

Steve can't.

His body can't help it.

His stomach is much, much bigger than it was when they began, and he feels so heavy. The eggs have to be so heavy and big.

Bigger?

Steve wails with the realization. They are bigger! Bucky did it to him! Bucky--

"Bucky, pleeease, let me get them ou-ooout!" He cries.

"Just a little longer," Bucky chuckles.

What feels like hours later, Steve is on all fours, squeezing the bedsheets in fists, moaning like he's dying. And he might be. Who knew death would feel so good?

Oh.

Ah!

It's right there! Another one! Almost out! Please! Out!

Steve can't think. It's pain and pleasure and heat and slow and everything.

Meanwhile as Steve moans and shakes and feels himself unravel entirely, Bucky is watching him, jerking off lazily. They'll be here for a long time. Hours, at least. There's no rush to orgasm. Bucky wouldn't want to rush anyway. He wants to savor this. The sight of his hole struggling to properly stretch around the pretty blue, firm gelatinous eggs is perfect.

There's sweat rolling down Steve's back. He's trembling. It's so much effort to push.

Push and push and push.

When Steve finally gets the one he's been working on out--a slow burn exploding into a quick, wet rush--Steve screams. His thighs slide apart wider, leaving his full belly to sink closer to the bed. His strings have been cut. He needs a break for a moment.

Bucky can distract him 👀

He picks up the lube slick egg he just managed to get out. It's much softer, hotter, and much, much larger than when he put it inside Steve the first time. It definitely drank up all that water.

Good.

Bucky positions the egg at Steve's gaping rim. Bucky can see the next egg, so close to his entrance, begging to get out, too. Oh, well. Bucky pushes the egg without any remorse whatsoever.

Steve jolts forward violently, shocked, but he doesn't make a sound. He can't. His back arches so deeply that it looks painful. Like he's about to pull a muscle. If Bucky could see his face, he knows he would look so, so fucked out.

The egg slides in.

No problem.

His internal muscles are working on swallowing it like they're starved. They want it back, no matter what Steve's mind is screaming. Push, push, push!

But, when it's at its widest, Bucky doesn't let go of the egg. Not yet. Instead, he uses his fingernails to keep a grip on it and slips a fingertip (or two) inside Steve. Seeing how much his poor little rim can take.

That causes Steve to make a sound.

Steve wails.

He's not just shaking now. He's vibrating.

Bucky holds him like that for a moment, stretching him the widest he's been tonight... then he lets the egg go.

Steve's hole wolfs it down without a second thought.

Steve makes a noise like he's been punched square in the chest.

Oh, JesusfuckingChrist.

"Push," Bucky coos, stroking his side, like he's not the worst. Putting eggs back in him after he's just gotten them out, and he's already so strung out.

Steve sobs. But he does it. His enhanced muscles still have enough strength to keep going. He'll go until he's empty. Each bigger egg pushed out of his stretched, ruined body. Then he'll pass out. And Bucky will just fill him up when he sleeps (maybe with the big soft rehydrated eggs or maybe with smaller, harder eggs so they can do this entire process again in the morning), just so Steve can wake up with what he always wants: to be full.

Fingers crossed that that was what you wanted 🐍. This is my first time writing ovipostion, so I hope it's good!

Now, with this addition!

#asks #🐍 anon #fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #ovipostion #oof this is filthy #i 👏🏻 love 👏🏻 it 👏🏻

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wormsin · 2 months

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Do you think DC is writing Bruce's character so into the ground that they're evntually going to separate the Dynamic Duo for good? It's no secret that Nightwing is basically surpassing Batman in popularity now, and most fans are fed up with Bruce's character, practically to the point of hating him and wanting him no where near the BatFam. Do you think DC will give in to these kinds of wishes, and have them keep their lives/stories apart for good? I doubt they'd want to risk Nightwing's high status. (If anything I think they're writing Batman so terribly so they can make an excuse to be rid of him - at least for a while?)

I haven't been caught up on Batman, Detective Comics, Nightwing or World's Finest since the end of 2022 so I don't know what you're referring to specifically. what are people mad at Bruce for now?

but no, DC is absolutely not going to ever break up Batman from Nightwing/Batclan/Batman Rogues and Villains stories in any kind of permanent way.

first of all, Batman is *enormously* popular. whatever subset of fans don't like him, they are a minority. Batman and Batman-related titles have basically been DC's #1 seller since the 90s. in 2021 and 2022, Batman-related titles accounted for 38% of all DC's new releases. and like, that's including Nightwing, Robins, Rogues, Villains, etc. but a lot of it is the big guy himself. I'm fairly sure it's its own big department in DC. and they are spending the most money and hiring the 'best' artists and writers for Bruce.

Nightwing is growing in popularity but is still outperformed by several Batman issues. there are plenty of pop crit articles in the last few years about how Nightwing might be better and more popular than Batman, which is laughable because Tom Taylor's writing is flat as a crepe.

DC *has* removed Bruce before! he was lost in time and Dick was Batman for 2+ publication years. Dick was out of commission as Nightwing for that, for Grayson (2014-2016) *and* as Ric (2018-2020). it's not unheard of to remove or fundamentally alter a main character for like two years—

before returning to the status quo.

anyway, I think the larger point is that there is not going to be character development or emotional continuity between any Batman-related titles, ever. whatever is going on with Damian's relationship to Bruce in the Batman title is going to have no bearing on Damian's relationship to Bruce in Batman and Robin. they can't even maintain continuity between Nightwing and Batman when Dick and Bruce are in the same room. they can't remotely keep a coherent timeline of events, and we often have multiple Bruce plots running at once in Gotham in ways that break space time!

this is due to DC's publication structure. and it makes it very hard for writers to do things to characters and the world that have actual impact in the long-term. so whatever conflicts or turmoil happen in a run, they have to be resolved within the run because the next three writers are not necessarily going to know or care about it. (this is why Bruce "gets away" with being a Huge Ass.)

even if we just take the Watsonian look at things, there is nothing Bruce could do that Dick would not forgive. Bruce has done plenty, and Dick is still there for him. it's a pretty core part of Dick's character.

but DC does like to blow up Bruce's relationships and fuck up his character growth. so it is possible they're gearing up for a temporary family conflict or Bruce-solo time. now I have to catch up on comics and see what the hell is going on.

#ask worm #batman #bruce wayne #meta #dick grayson #nightwing

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ravenpureforever · 2 years

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So I know we all joke about Porchay living his best Wattpad life, myself included, but I think we all kind of ignore how Kim just never dissuaded him from that notion and how we find that genre dissonance between Porsche & Kim’s view (and often our audience view) of Chay and how he actually acts, and we’re all sleeping on the mini character arc he’s gotten over the course of the series.

Porsche and Kim don’t want Chay to get caught up in the mafia world, and they both seem to view him in the same lense: he’s innoncent, sweet, incorruptible.

But Chay has fucking balls man, and he’s a lot more resilient than people give him credit for. He also ignores red flags like he’s color blind. We don’t get to see much of him, but the glimpses we do get show there is so much more beneath the surface.

First:

Man grew up with Porsche & a dead beat Uncle, you telling me he didn’t see some shit growing up? No matter how well Porsche protected him, Chay is the one dressing his wounds when he comes back from fighting, Chay still hears the loan sharks coming for his Uncle, he’s growing up watching his older brother as really the only source of income for his household. And he can’t do anything about it. Watching episode 1, when Chay asks Porsche to let him get a job and help out, it feels like they’ve had this conversation before, it feels resigned, it feels like a final quiet plea of “we’ve talked about this before, but please, please, please just consider it.” But Porsche says no, I’m going to take care of it and I can’t help but think of the impact that has, of watching the person he loves most get beat down again and again and not being able to do anything about it. I feel like Chay probably grew up being the peacekeeper, the one trying to keep the waters calm. Its clear he knows he’s his brother’s world, that his brother has done so much to keep him sheltered and happy, and I can think of Porsche teaching Chay manners, teaching him ideals of being kind to others and Chay just internalizing it and deciding “ah yes, so this is my role in the family, this is how I can help my brother.” Chay probably felt a lot of pressure, no matter how unintentionally and how unconditionally Porsche loves him, to be a reason why his brother is doing all of this, he’s probably hyper aware of how he’s Porsche’s motivation, that everything his brother does is for him. That does things to your self-worth, to how you view yourself. I get the feeling hasn’t had any agency over his own life before, he’s always been the princess locked in the tower, aware of the war but not allowed to participate. His happily ever has been chosen and now he just has to see it through.

Then literally overnight, he wakes up and his Uncle has vanished, and his brother has left with just a fairly suspicious note about pursuing his dream that’ll completely be able to fully support Chay. His entire way of living has transformed, and now he’s completely alone. He went from princess locked in a tower as a war rages on to a Queen of a decimated kingdom. He can not grieve, he can only have faith and move forward.

This is also how I realized Chay has practically been designed to ignore all red flags and interpret them as something else.

Enter Kim, stage right. Enter Chay’s wattpad fantasy come to life, also stage right.

When Chay meets Kim, he is someone who has literally nothing to lose throwing himself out there. My boy literally just recites an encyclopedia knowledge of “Wik, sir, you are my hyper fixation” all in the hopes of getting that T-shirt. And it works! His idol signs his T-shirt, he gets to talk to his idol, he has been rewarded for putting himself out there!

So go big or go home right? He might as well try asking for a tutor when asked if there’s anything he wants. And he’s shot down. No big deal, he moves on and has merch thats going to be the envy of the Wik fandom.

But then his idol calls him, and says he’ll tutor him. Wik remembered him, remembered his request, and then proceeded to hunt down a way to get Chay’s phone number and call him personally in order to tell him he’s decided to he’s going to help him get into the his dream department that he himself is apart of.

Its easy to view Chay from Kim’s perspective, as an excitable fanboy with a crush, but we forget how Kim looks from Chay’s perspective. So lets look on how everything seems from Chay’s perspective.

Chay put himself out there, made a decision solely for himself and what he wants and now his idol wants to tutor him. He’s been actively rewarded twice now, by the same person, for asserting what he wants and trying to get it. He’s gotten his cake and is eating it too. He has a celebrity crush like most people get, only his celebrity crush is now making the effort to genuinely get to know him.

Wik tells Chay his name is Kim, he’s being open and vulnerable to Chay, and he’s trusting him with his identity. Kim asks about his brother, even though Chay didn’t tell him, red flag to any normal person citing he saw Chay’s screensaver and made an assumption. Kim is taking an interest in his life, he notices little details about him, and is asking to here more about the coolest person in the world, his brother and even noticed how much Chay loves Porsche that he wants Chay to write a song about it! He even trusts Chay enough to ask for his phone when Kim’s phone has died, even though that’ll mean there’s important numbers in Chay’s call history, and he trusts that Chay won’t take advantage of them!

And maybe Chay starts to fall a bit in love with Kim. Not Wik, but Kim, who’s a little bit insecure, a little bit awkward, but is making all this effort for Chay.

For Chay, it isn’t anything manipulative or suspicious, he’s becoming friends Kim, they’re sharing information about themselves, they’re bonding now, and he’s been shown that if he pushes, Kim will stay. Chay is all alone now, he has to take care of himself, but if he makes an effort and keeps putting himself out there, if he makes his wants known, Kim comes to him. Kim trusts him, and as long as Chay takes the initiative, he also makes the effort to bond with Chay.

Then Porsche comes back! Chay isn’t alone anymore, and they’re happy and safe and Porsche isn’t getting beat up! And then Porsche once again immediately leaves without a word and few days later you get the first call you’ve gotten from him since he left the first time and now he’s back at work and doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. He’s all alone, and his brother has seem to get a new life that once again Chay’s not allowed to be apart of.

But then Kim shows up at his house! And Chay immediately throws his brother under the bus in a desperate bid to keep Kim’s good opinion of him, once again, gotta admire the sheer balls and audacity of that move. Then Kim gifts him one of his guitars! Porsche do you understand how easily your brother could be taken advantage of do you? Sure he almost gets the heart attack of Kim discovering his shrine, but what teenager doesn’t have posters on the wall of his favorite singer? Maybe it’s weird that he wants Chay to go get the food for them both, but he could have an important phone call to make, he could be nervous going out in public where people could recognize him! Then when he gets back Kim asks him about his love life! Kim ruffles his hair! Kim tells him to write a love song!

Kim is checking off all the boxes of my crush likes me back.

So when Kim ghosts him a little, Chay makes the obvious conclusion. Show up at his house and sing him the love song he wrote! He’s been shown time, and time again that if he reaches out to Kim, Kim will eventually grab his hand. Kim has shown to be awkward and a little of unsure of himself around Chay, but relaxes when Chay takes the initiative. So Chay does what’s always worked. With literally no fear or anxiety whatsoever.

And with episode 13, we see how close they were getting. We see how they went out to places together, romantically or platonically, and they took pictures together! They were friends, they were close, they had a level of trust and bonding and vulnerability for Chay to take photos with Kim and leave them around his house for Kim to find!

So Chay once again has nothing left to lose, and shoots his final shot and confesses to Kim. And Kim kisses him! They hug! Kim may or may not have come home with him that night but at some point in they’re relationship post confession, they fall asleep cuddling on the couch.

And Chay and Porsche are very similar. They fall in love quickly, they become very devoted and loyal to that love, and they are honest about it. Chay and Porsche are both the first ones to say I love you, but while Porsche doesn’t ask for a reply, Chay does. Because Kim has shown time and time again that Chay needs to take the initiative. So he asks Kim: I love you, do you love me?

But he stops at that and lets Kim take his time. Because that’s the song and dance their courtship has been taking, Chay flirts, Chay pushes forward and then Kim comes to meet him the rest of the way.

Chay is living in a Wattpad fantasy: he meets his idol crush, his idol crush becomes fascinated with him, he sees the real human behind his idol crush’s persona and falls in love with the awkward, sweet person underneath, he confesses his love and the feeling is mutual! And all of this seems to be fate, like this perfect love story and the happy ending he actually wants. He’s practically gotten into his dream department with the boy of his dreams who loves him back.

He’s confirming it is all real, and letting Kim know that it’s all real on his end.

And then he gets fucking kidnapped. And then he gets indisputable proof that his brother has been lying to him this entire time, and he was kidnapped because of that secret life his brother was lying about it.

The ultimatum may seem harsh, but it makes sense when you see it from Chay’s perspective. He probably feels essentially abandoned by his brother for the past two months, and he’s understandably pissed about everything thats happened in the last 48 hours or so. His brother can be part of his life and they can go back to the way things were, but Chay can’t be a part of his life if his brother is in the mafia, and its true. Porsche has spent all this time telling Chay he wants him to get into a good school and get a good job and be surrounded by good people with a good social life. You can’t have that in the mafia, and Chay knows that. So from Chay’s perspective, his brother has basically just been a complete hypocrite to everything his brother taught him.

And while Porsche has been shown the type of person to be willing to throw away his morals and beliefs when it comes to the people he loves, Chay isn’t. His entire life has been surrounded on those ideals of being a good, kind person who lives a good life. And he’s understandably terrified of the thought of losing his brother and truly being on his own. He’s basically lost his only emotional support system for two months, and if his brother dies, he loses him for good.

So Chay says him or me, because in his mind either way he could lose his brother, but this is Chay making his own decision, this is Chay fighting back and reminding Porsche that see you hurt makes me hurt too. This ultimatum reminds Porsche that his actions have conquenses on Chay too, and it shows how Chay has grown up in his absence. Chay in episode one was willing to just bow his head and listen to what his brother, but Chay in episode 10 is willing to speak out, he’s no longer willing to be simply passive in his brother’s plans for him.

In the end, he and Porsche communicate, and we get a taste of how Chay is, like Porsche, willing to throw away his ideals because he loves someone. But now he’s been dragged into a completely unfamiliar world, he’s truly been into a different kingdom where he doesn’t have any of the power or agency he’s gotten used to having in Porsche’s absence.

And then its revealed the love of his life is part of the mafia, and he’s just gotta sit there and pretend like nothings wrong.

Side note: while it’s absolutely hilarious that absolutely nobody learned about the KimChay romance, it also makes a lot of sense. Rule number one of Wattpad romance: You NEVER tell your overprotective brother your in love or dating or got dumped. You NEVER let your big brother know about your love life. Rule number two of Wattpad romance: When dating a celebrity, you NEVER leave a hint that any fans could pick up on. You ALWAYS need to keep the relationship a secret for as long as humanly possible. Chay thinks he knows what genre he’s in, and he’s being smart about it.

So Chay goes to confront him. Like doesn’t even hesitate, just shows up like bitch you better explain yourself. Because that’s what he does, only this time he does it out of anger, not out of love.

And Kim tells him that his entire reality was a lie. When Chay breaks down crying, it’s not just because Kim dumped him, though that had to hurt, its because that means their entire friendship, all the kindness and effort Kim showed him, all the time they spent together, all the moments Chay thought were sweet, thought they were bonding and falling mutually in love was a complete and utter lie. He’s just been made a fool, and his entire life has been completely transformed and he has no control over any of it.

So he spirals and self destructs. Him ditching the interview may seem dumb and like he’s throwing everything Porsche worked for away, but think about it. Everything about this interview is going to reminder of Kim and how he betrayed Chay’s love and trust. This interview is a reminder of how his brother threw away his own life for Chay to have a future their parents would be proud of, despite his protests. This interview is an embodiment of Chay’s own lack of control in his own life, it has become a symbol of his pain.

Everything in Chay’s life has fallen apart and now he has to pick up the pieces and find his place in the new world he’s in.

So he tries to take back that lost control and ditches the interview. He does the stereotypical new haircut new me era. He goes out drinking with friends. Chay can’t talk to Porsche about any of this, he can’t be honest with friends about any of this. He doesn’t have any real support system in his life right now, and he’s falling apart. For the past two months he’s been in charge of his life for the first time, only for it to be yanked away and everything he knows to disappear. He wants to get that control back, but he has no clue how, and he has no one to help him. So he makes some dumbass decisions, but its not just because of Kim, it’s because desperately grappling for a sense of agency in a world that keeps stripping him of it.

And then Kim comes back into his life, and in Chay’s perspective, tries to take away his agency again and toy with his emotions. “You said you don’t care about me, but here you are caring about me,” and it makes him angry. So in episode 13, he tries to cut Kim off, he ignores his calls and blocks his number to assert his control of their relationship.

And then his agency and control is once again taken when Porsche wakes him up and (presumably) drops him off at Yok’s and (probably) doesn’t tell about anything that happens.

His Wattpad dream life romance has fallen apart, he’s had to leave his old life completely behind, and now he’s left in the ashes trying to figure put who he is and where he stands in this situation, trying to be his own person without anyone there to help him.

Conclusion: I think Chay is someone who strives to be kind and polite, and like Porsche wants to see the best in people, but he’s also incredibly brave and put into the position where he’s really making his own decisions for the first time in his life. He’s frustrated, he’s unsure, he’s making mistakes and fumbling around, but he’s a young adult finally trying to take control of his life after everything has been ripped out underneath him, and I think that side of him could be explored to.

I think Chay is the type of person who’s sweet and respectful, but when push comes to shove, he’s shown to be a no nonsense kind of person who isn’t afraid to backdown. He’ll listen, he’ll comprise, but Chay has a lot more of a spine and a no fear attitude than people give him credit for, but right now he’s desperately trying to assert his agency in a narrative that keeps taking it from him, and its causing him to self destruct.

I’m genuinely excited to see where his arc from passive princess in tower to living a self-insert life to currently self destructive extensional crisis ends up. We’ve only gotten a few scenes with him, but they’ve shown so much of a character arc that I feel people are sleeping on.

#kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche #kimchay #vegaspete #sorry I just want people to stop sleeping on Chay #kinnporsche meta #kinnporsche episode 13 #kinnporsche episode 12 #they we’re supposed to be the sweet ones admist the mafia drama #they’re all unhinged disasters #i’m obsessed #porsche my beloved #kinnporsche analysis #kimchay analysis #I’ve got a lot of feelings and thoughts about Chay okay #he’s got so much going on and such an interesting characterization #or maybe im just overthinking #but still

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saeranthis · 9 months

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okay!!! belatedly as promised here's some of my dol hcs!! I play with everyone as male so if you were excited for fem hcs sorry loves

whitney: blonde -> fringe/ swooped over one eye, obnoxiously wears his shirt with 3-4 buttons open all the time. is a whore but isn't open about it and certainly doesn't let other people acknowledge it. super into leashes, 7-8inches (shower), freeballs 24/7, american/French but no accent and not rlynin touch with his roots 5'8-5'11

robin: ginger!! (but more like obnoxiously orange than ginger, think Childe genshin impact) adhd, victim complex, can pay bailey but lies about being able to, slightly manipulative but not inherently in a malicious way more like a constantly kicked puppy way, league player: (derogatory) , Irish/german/Dutch, lots of face freckles, sunburns easily, 5ft 6, 5-6 inches (grower), has a journal filled with poetry, secretly likes whitney but won't admit it, likes being bullied

kylar: has cameras all over town, has a computer room with like 6-8 monitors, parents are NOT vampires are just eldritch esq monstrosities 8-12 inches (grower), has a birdhouse, knife collection (small), extremely good at Chem and math, like international competition winner level good, TERRIBLE at English, the teachers know about his knife but let him carry it anyway "bc he keeps to himself", afro-mexican, black hair, always wears a hoodie despite dress code, has a pet cat, was obsessed with another orphan prior to pc (didn't end well) 5'2-5'4, cock rings cock rings cock rings, breeding kink, hates exhibitionism, doesn't like sharing but will if it's the only way he can have you, is related to the scarred inmate, knows mickey but they don't really talk much, not really manipulative but will force you to get abortions for kids that aren't his, has reverse engineered the pink substance but doesn't really care to do anything with or about it, purposefully flunks the math competition so pc can win, uhhh I can't think of anything else rn

sydney: big on this my boy is indian!! their family def was Hindu before moving to dol town and his mother who did not approve of the town they moved to or sydneys fathers behavior when they got there left and is still practices Hinduism while Sydney and his dad converted to fit in. Sydney has long hair that's kept in a high ponytail most of the time. suuuuper into history and will talk about the history of dol town for hours if you let him. 7-8 inches (shower originally but chastity trained his dick to be super flaccid) but his chastity cage is too small for him so it's constantly bulging against the frame and making his dick sore. once his virginity is taken he becomes an ass FANATIC he is so obsessed with anal its unhealthy, strawberry ice cream enjoyer, won't admit it but kinda likes watching pc be used by other guys

#dol #whitney the bully #sydney the faithful #kylar the loner #robin the orphan #dol headcanons #this is so late sorry #anyway yes kylar and sydney are both poc and i WILL die on this hill #i keep getting jumpscared by white kylar fanart #no shade to the artists i just forget my headcanons arent actual canon #real

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juminies · 1 year

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do you ever think about normal end jumin? i know i do. in some ways i almost prefer having a more "normal" domestic lifestyle with him but at the same time it would be so hard. i'd be plagued with perpetual guilt over it and jumin would likely have a hard time too. but i think the end result would be a very strong couple. i also tend to think that jumin's dad would probably try to make up with jumin after a while (a year or more? idk)

I get where you're coming from! if you're not someone who feels they can take being under the spotlight I see how his good ending could be very intimidating. but similarly, him resigning was still a very big deal, and though he didn't directly mention you in his speech your relationship probably wouldn't entirely slip under the radar. paparazzi will be paparazzi, gossip will be gossip, there were still a lot of reporters at the party!

I'm not sure guilty is how I'd be feeling, since ultimately it was jumin's decision to make, but I do think it would probably be incredibly stressful for the both of you for a while. jumin would play it off as nonchalantly as he could for as long as he could, but resigning would likely have a big impact on him, especially so suddenly. he works a lot. his job meant a lot to him for a long time, and it was also practically the basis of his relationship with his father. he wouldn't know what to do with himself without it. that combined with his reason for resigning essentially being love is more important than work it could definitely be somewhat overbearing until you figure out what the both of you are going to do next – particularly if you're someone who enjoys time to yourself. on top of that (to me at least!) it feels like a sudden big commitment which, unlike the proposal, you don't fully get a say in. realistically it would probably put pressure on your relationship for a while, but nothing impossible to work through. the way I see it it's ultimately a lot more personal strain for a similar outcome, for the sake of staying out of the spotlight.

I would also like to point out, though, that while some level of publicity is inevitable (that's just something you have to accept with jumin in order for him to thrive!!) if it becomes a problem for you even in a good ending jumin would absolutely make sure to keep you out of the spotlight as much as possible anyway once the fuss from the proposal dies down. he can and will sue magazines who dive into your private life after they receive a direct request to stay away from you. your comfort and safety are the most important things to him after all.

I do also feel he'd learn to balance work & life better. of course he'd have a lot of responsibility, particularly after he inherits the company, but now that he has someone to account for the "life" part of "work-life balance" it's important to him that he doesn't neglect it :)

as for his relationship with his father, I do like to think they managed to talk it out at least somewhat when they met after the party. I think that as jumin grows more as a person and learns to understand both his own and other peoples' emotions more it lifts some of the discomfort in their relationship. allows jumin to be more open and understanding. it would definitely take a while, but I think they would be able to build a stronger bond – nothing perfect, but something more emotionally valuable than business plans and throwing money back and forth.

#jumin han #mystic messenger

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jellyfishloveletterghosts · 1 year

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Carnations Say It Better Part 1 (Hellcheer)

Valentina is not Eddie’s thing. No heart and flowers for him, no thank you. He idly thinks about skipping school altogether today but he is really hoping 85 is his year so here he is in the school parking lot. At least they have a dungeons and dragon game tonight, a bright side to deal with all the disgusting mushy displays of affection.

He is not the only one a little nauseated by it all from the looks of it. Harrington looks strained as his Wheeler and Byers trade gifts of affection like he is not right there in their little semi circle. A short pace behind them is Billy Hargrove ignoring some girl hanging off of his shoulder as he stares at Steve’s back, expression too stormy to read. Further back than that, near the entrance of the school past the pep squad's little valentine day stand he spies his own friends.

Eddie is making his way toward them, can see Gareth red in the face talking to Paul. It's always a good argument when Garet goes that particular shade of red and Eddie loves siding against him just to make him madder. Eddie and Jeff have an ongoing game over who can get Gareth to go the reddist.

Eddie's steps falter when none other than Chrissy Cunningham steps in front of him on her way back to the table decked out in pink and white construction paper hearts. He freezes hands up grimacing when he nearly knocks into her, twisting to avoid the collision at the last moment. She freezes too shoulders hunching bracing for the impact that doesn't come. Eddie spins it into a little bow on her other side intent to keep walking.

"Sorry." Chrissy is grimacing, body held so tight it looks painful stopping Eddie in his tracks. There is an apology on his lips despite not being at fault that evaporates as she shakes herself out practiced smile he has at pep rallies sliding over her lips as she speaks first. "Do you want to send a valentine to anyone?" She asks moving around the table and ignoring the bewildered and judging look one of her fellow cheerleaders sends her way.

Eddie looks around himself as confused about the ask as the dark haired cheerleader to Chrissy's left. Eddie goes so far as to twist his torso to check his surroundings for anyone else she could be talking to before turning back and pointing to himself while mouthing me. Chrissy’s smile goes from plastered trying to reel in a potential buyer to something more real, eyes crinkling with it as she giggles and nods her pony tail bobbing. "Yes you."

Eddie has an almost foreign fluttering in his stomach, something so rare he forgot it could happen. The longer her big blue eyes stare up at him waiting him out the worse it gets. He stuffs his hand in his pocket digging out change and a few crumpled bills before shoving the fist full at her. "How many will that get me?"

She cups her hands under his and he opens his fist, quarters and a few dimes and nickels falling with a thump, crumpled bills fluttering down. She takes them moving around the little table, Eddie stumbling closer, legs knocking against it before he stops ignoring more side eyeing from the other cheerleader who, thankfully, gets distracted by a would be customer.

Chrissy sets the money down and takes a seat in an unfolded metal chair. Eddie curls a lock of hair around his finger as he watches her smooth out the dollars and count out the changes. "Thirteen, a baker's dozen." She announces turning that gut fluttering smile on him again.

Eddie nods, dragging that lock of hair in front of his mouth as he says. "I'll take that many then." Eddie nods quickly, the world blurring with the motion as he says it needing to do something with the nervous energy coursing through him. He turns ready to head for his friends. The argument looks like it is winding down and he does not want to miss his chance to make it worse.

Eddie is stopped in his tracks by a delicate hand catching his wrist. "Wait, you have to fill out the form so we can make sure your special someone gets them." Chrissy uses the hand now holding a fistful of red and white carnations to point at a yellowed slip of paper with several boxes printed on it.

Eddie shakes his head hoping she does not notice the way his pulse speeds up under her finger tips. "They're already in your hands, they're for you." Chews his lips, tugging a lock of hair curled around his finger hard enough that it kind of hurts.

"For me?" She lets his wrist go pointing at herself with both hands, flowers still clutched tight.

"I don't see any other fair maidens around here." Eddie gives a wink and another bow before turning on his heel feeling very pleased with the brilliant smile he glimpses from her as he goes.

The offended look on the other cheerleader leader's face is just a bonus. "Fuck you freak!" The girl calls Chrissy trying to hide her giggling behind the small bouquet of flowers in her hand. Eddie has a pep in his step as he makes it over to his friends just in time to start Gareth going dark red again with a well timed quip.

Part 2 (Harringrove)

#hellcheer #jellyghostfic #fanfiction #st fic #eddie munson x chrissy cunningham #A lil hint of Harringrove that I may write a lil part for but it'll probably be late #eddissy

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schrijverr · 6 months

Text

The Strange Arrival of Colonel Curtis 2

Chapter 2 out of 5

Ed gets send to do an undercover mission where he is pretending to be Colonel Curtis to catch a terrorist ring. In doing so, he has to be suspicious and get involved with some shady people, which is noticed by his unit.

On AO3.

Ships: minor edwin mention

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 2: The Bait

Ed isn’t sure how long he can take this anymore, honestly. Roy, that bastard, owes him big time for this when he gets back to Central, this is totally not the equivalent of 520 cenz no matter what he says. Besides, Ed is planning on paying it back, it’s not his fault that Roy can’t seem to climb ranks fast enough.

However, what’s done is done, Ed has said yes fair and square. So, here he is, in West City, playing the part of Colonel Curtis. And Ed isn’t even in the military anymore.

So, yeah, that’s Ed’s life now.

He has been in West City for a month now and he thinks he has the team and command down, which he is grateful for. Ed has never been one for the long-con missions of subterfuge and obfuscation. He prefers to be direct and to the point, specifically with his fists. And alchemy, but he gave that up, so not anymore.

But Mustang asked him. He needed someone he could trust and whose face wasn’t known in the military. Ed hasn’t been in the military for six years and had changed a lot in that time. He has faded out of public memory and never really had many missions in the West. So he was the best candidate for it, even if he had violently protested.

Still, Ed can’t deny he sometimes missed the life he lived as the Fullmetal Alchemist. Not the horrendous guilt that bogged him down or being a dog of the corrupt military, but the getting to help people, getting run into danger, getting to make an impact.

And this mission needs someone with the skills he has gathered throughout the years and they can’t afford to have someone untrustworthy do it. So, of course Ed said yes.

He called Winry before he did and Al, explaining what Mustang had asked of him and if they’d be cool with him semi-falling of the radar and plunging himself into danger without them.

Al is still studying in Xing, traveling around with Zampano and Jerso. When Ed called he was with Mei, learning about Alkehestery and going on dates. It’s nice to hear his brother so happy and Ed hadn’t been about to mess with that again, assuring Al that he’d be smart and safe about it, a promise he is planning on keeping.

Winry is currently in Rush Valley, setting up her new shop, since she claims they can’t live off Ed’s State Alchemist money forever. Ed begs to differ, however, he doesn’t say that to her, she likes building automail and he doesn’t mind investing in keeping her happy and their future prosperous.

She offered to make him a more combat ready leg instead of the travel orientated one he has been using these past few years, but Ed refused. Then she made him promise to be safe, which he happily obliged.

Ed isn’t sixteen anymore. He’s twenty-two and in a good place with people he loves. He likes where he is and doesn’t plan on jeopardizing that. He just also wants to help.

Alchemist be thou for the people.

Of course, Ed isn’t an alchemist anymore, not exactly. But alchemy is what Ed has devoted his life to. Even without practicing it, you can study it. Besides, alchemy is not just the act, it’s a philosophy and a way of life. And Ed has lived it since he was a kid. Old habits are hard to break.

Winry had been scared he’d be defenseless without his alchemy, Al luckily knows him better than that.

It’s true that Ed used to rely on alchemy to hand him weapons and shelter when he fought, giving him an edge over most opponents. But Ed is highly skilled with a knife (and he carries multiple on his body at all times), transmuted to him or not, and he has been fighting without alchemy for years now. He feels totally fine.

If he’s honest, the hardest part about this mission so far, is the getting the information part.

Usually, Ed would barge in, demand answers and deal with the fall out, however violent it may be, but that’s not really an option right now.

He’s trying to get a secret ring of informants to include them in their scheme, so he can find out why they exist, what they’re doing, how they’re doing it and who is involved. Exposing military corruption is something of a hobby of his, so he couldn’t refuse, but it isn’t so boring normally.

In order to get them to get to him, they had ‘dismissed’ Colonel Freedman, who is actually enjoying a holiday with his husband, while Ed is masquerading as his replacement.

Colonel Freedman is a great guy, who realized something was wrong and also realized that he couldn’t go to his own higher ups. He had served at Eastern Command in the time of the Promised Day, so he’d gone to Mustang instead and Mustang had gone to Ed.

Dismissing him like this, however fake it might be, had created a lot of stir around Ed, which is bound to get attention from everyone, including the people Ed is looking for. But in order for them to want to approach Ed, he has to play a part. Colonel Curtis’s part.

Colonel Curtis is created to be a bait. The persona Ed is playing is a rookie, who is desperate to rise the ranks, desperate to have something he can use to claw himself up. Whatever this ring of informants is doing, it’s getting people promoted.

When Ed plays Colonel Curtis, he bases him off his first impression of Mustang, before he truly knew the guy. A love for kissing ass of higher ups, a healthy respect for his fellow soldiers and an air of haughtiness that rubs everyone just on the right side of wrong.

However, he knows Mustang too well to fully copy him. Mustang is a softie, who never really cared about the rules, just appearances. He cares too much about those serving under him to ever consider stepping on them to get higher up, which isn’t what Ed is playing. So, he has been a lot stricter with his men and a lot more distant.

Ed does feel a little bit bad about that. He never considered ever having men under him, even back when he was an actual Major instead of a fake Colonel. He only ever needed Al to have his back and to watch out for, but now he’s responsible for five whole other human beings. And he wants to do right by them, but in order to sell this, he can’t.

Though he does try to figure out what makes them tick and how to subtly help them and he thinks he has been pretty successful so far.

First Lieutenant Jack Speltz is friendly, but highly professional. He wants to get his work done and go home, preferably without incident. He likes the people he works with and is happy to help them, but he doesn’t let his friendships get in the way of professionalism. He reminds Ed a little bit of Hawkeye and he wonders if the personality is required to get the First Lieutenant rank.

However, his professionalism makes him less useful to Ed right now. He likely isn’t the person to get caught up in an informant ring, nor the type to spread rumors about Ed’s persona to lure them out. So, Ed just lets him keep the others in check and remains cordial and professional with the guy for the time being.

Second Lieutenant Linda Ridlon is smart. She’s reserved and quiet, keeps to herself. Ed hasn’t fully ruled out suspicion on her, however, she doesn’t seem to engage much in the gossip, nor has she approached him or seemed like she wanted to.

For now she’s still under surveillance, though Freedman vouched for both her and the rest of the team, so Ed is more looking outside the unit than inside for information. But he knows better than blindly trust someone vouching for someone else. He still remembers General Raven.

Second Lieutenant Rachel Mann is a laugh and a hoot. She reminds Ed of Havoc and if the circumstances were different, he’s sure they’d get along splendidly. Alas, he is currently her stern superior, so he’s had to tamper down on her personality, something he’s loathe to do.

Overall, Ed has established that while she does like to speculate and is curious to see what’s going on, she isn’t entrenched in office gossip like others are. And her curiosity has lessened Ed’s suspicion of her, though he is aware it could be an act. However, she wouldn’t be stirring shit if she was trying to hide so much.

Warrant Officer Thomas Wagner is a cross between Armstrong and Fuery, which is mildly disturbing if Ed’s honest. The giant is called Tommy by everyone else and mostly functions as a very muscled mascot. He’s kind and nice and while Ed can’t officially clear him, there doesn’t seem to be a malicious bone in his body.

Master Sargent Mike Scherper is a different story, though jury is still out if he’s an enemy, a tool Ed can use or both. Even if Ed hates thinking of people like tools, it’s increasingly likely Scherper is a tool or both.

Scherper is not just a gossip, he is The Gossip. Whenever he thinks Ed can’t hear, he’s theorizing about how Ed showed up, what he might be up to and what happened to their former Colonel. Or he’s sharing whatever he’s heard, ranging from crackpot shit cooked up by bored soldiers with nothing better to do or tidbits Mustang’s sisters dripped into their networks for them.

Out of everyone there, Scherper is the most suspicious, though he’s very open about all his gossip, but that can be a front. Openness about one thing can hide a lot of other things.

However, because Scherper always knows the gossip and he’s smack dab in the middle of Ed’s office, he has become quite the reliable source about Colonel Curtis and his coming and goings for the rumor mills. Which is mildly disturbing, but also useful.

Ed has checked how far his reach is by dropping information in front of the young man and listening to what the rumor mill brought back. So far, he has heard tales about his sternness and professionalism that are only suitably exaggerated by the rumor mill with truth kernels in there that only an insider could provide.

Scherper is his man. And potential enemy, but that hasn’t stopped Ed from working together with people before.

So, he is planning his next move. He’s been here for a month and he’s gotten a feel for his unit and the command center.

As of now, no one has approached him yet, which means he hasn’t shown himself to be a valuable and potential asset. He has to change that and Scherper will unknowingly help him do so.

He gets to the command center exactly on time as he has always done this past month. It shows he is punctual and serious about his duty, but not a pathetic overachiever. He strolls confidently through the halls, stopping by the canteen to get some coffee, before going to his office.

There he opens his door by using his hand and the handle, disgracing himself even more like he has done ever since he’s gotten here. His unit is already in and starting to get to work, greeting him respectfully as he passes.

To get them to let down their guard, he greets them back with a nod like he has done every morning, while making his way to his office. Before he enters, however, he suddenly turns back to them and says: “Master Sargent Scherper, a word, please.”

Scherper stiffens when he’s addressed and Ed can see in his eyes that he’s going through all he has done the past month to find out what he is in trouble for. Perfect.

Ed doesn’t try to get more information out of his looks for now, finding appearances more pressing as he walks into his office without looking back. In the background, he hears Scherper stammer out a quick: “Yes, sir,” before a chair scrapes across the floor.

While Scherper scrambles to get to Ed’s office, Ed makes himself comfortable behind his desk, trying to exude Mustang’s bastardly energy of confidence, smugness and easy going-ness. He wants his subordinate to think Ed knows what he’s doing and that’s why he’s above him in the chain of command, while also putting him at ease.

Seconds later, Scherper appears in the doorway, looking a little cautious as he enters. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Ah, yes, come in and, please, take a seat,” Ed says as warmly as his professional aura allows him, gesturing to a chair. Scherper does so cautiously and Ed allows him to stew for a second, before he puts him out of his misery: “Nothing bad, I assure you.”

Scherper visibly relaxes at that and Ed can’t help but mentally cluck at the sloppiness. You don’t show you cards like that. Even Ed has learned that from being a temperamental twelve year old onward.

Ed waits until he is seated, then strikes: “From what I’ve observed and heard, you are quite versed in the command’s rumor mill, are you not?”

At that, Scherper blushes, looking a little embarrassed, but in the end nodding: “Uhm, yes, sir. I- I am, sir.”

In reply Ed gives his best fake laugh, which he hates to admit he’s stealing from General Raven. He then leans forward onto his desk, steepling his hands as he gives Scherper a sharp grin, glad when it puts him on edge again. “Good,” he tells the Master Sargent, “because I’m going to need you to do a job for me with it. Off the record, preferably.”

“A- A job, sir?” Scherper asks.

“Nothing big, of course,” Ed informs him pleasantly, leaning back in his chair. He has gotten better at this whole manipulation thing. “Not a mission you would have to go away for, just gathering some intell for me.”

That puts Scherper a little more at ease, seems like he’s used to gathering intelligence. Not odd with how much he loves gossip, Ed muses, but maybe suspicious.

“What kind of intell, sir?” Scherper inquires and mentally Ed commends him for how fast he gathers himself and goes on to get useful information. If he wanted, he might be able to get Scherper on the intelligence branch track after all this is over. Depending how well he works and whether or not he’s a traitor of course.

“I need you to find out if you can get any dirt on Lieutenant General Becker. Rumor has it he might be discharged – and dishonorably at that – if that happens, there’ll be promotions all around, especially for those who nailed his coffin. Wouldn’t you agree, Master Sargent?” Ed says, letting an evil glint appear in his eyes, though he is mostly focused on watching Scherper closely.

This is not just setting his plan in motion, but also vetting Scherper further. Right now, he looks surprised at Ed’s request, which speaks to a better moral character than a traitor, especially when the surprise turns into apprehension.

“The- the Lieutenant General, sir?” he hesitates.

And Ed picked Becker for a reason. Mustang complains about him often and Ed hasn’t liked the look of him since he got here. Either they clear him or they get him out, win-win with minimal damage to the internal affairs of the command.

Still, now he needs to get Scherper on board. “He’s already as good as out, everyone knows that,” he says. “I don’t need you to stalk him or something, just probe around a bit, poke at people close to him and your contacts to see if anything turns up. If there’s someone you trust, you can tell them, but keep it under wraps if you can.”

Scherper still doesn’t look convinced, which is a tally on the not-traitor side in Ed’s eyes, but really annoying right now.

“It won’t get you into trouble. Just deflect onto me if you’re found out, you were just following orders,” Ed says, feeling vaguely sick as he provides Scherper that excuse. “I won’t use your name when applying the information you get.” Scherper is teethering. “I’ll owe you a favor,” Ed throws in the last carrot on the stick. “If this gets me a promotion, you have a favor owed to you by a Brigadier General.”

“I’ll see what I can do, sir,” Scherper finally gives in.

“Thank you, Master Sargent,” Ed smiles warmly, though there is an edge under it. “Dismissed.”

Scherper salutes, then scampers out of the office again. As Ed watches him go, he thinks to himself: yeah, this is going to get the right attention.

A/N:

I love Ed thinking Mustang is incompetent at most things, except manipulation, which he hates Mustang for anyways, despite the two being friends for years now. He begrudgingly learned from Mustang (mostly) against his will and he shall forever be a little bit bitter about it

#rr writing #fma #fma brotherhood #fmab #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist #edward elric #roy mustang #colonel curtis au #post promised day

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clubwnderland · 6 months

Text

⤷⋆⋆ 𝑱𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒎𝒊 𝑼𝒑𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆 ♡

Bunny for the night? I thought it would be so much fun to do a little switch up! I didn't want to just dress up as a pretty bunny but I wanted to be one too! I think I look super cute, what do you think? Are you going to go trick or treating? Or watch movies all night? What are your plans, I would love to hear them!!

cw: implied nsfw

Doom sitting. That's what Jongin called it when Jangmi leads the big guy into the room and passes him a cape, having him sit down so that she can get it all tied up and looking good. "You putting make-up on him too?" Jongin asks as Jangmi comes over to check his fake blood, making sure it doesn't smudge and has set.

"Of course!" She beams, her tail wiggling as she smiles at Doom, the God simply watching curiously, quietly. "He's going to be a vampire! Can't be a vampire if he's doesn't have blood on him!"

Once she's pleased with her work on Jongin, the hybrid sets her sights onto Doom, skipping closer before standing in front of her and tapping her chin. She doesn't need to get him to tilt his chin since even sitting, they are nearly eye to eye and so Jangmi gets to work, smiling as she starts to push his hair back and styling it to make her vision work.

"Vampires don't look like this," Doom says, eyes watching Jangmi's face as she keeps his head steady with one hand and carefully applies the fake blood to drip down the corner of his mouth.

She giggles, he's not complaining, simply stating a fact but its still funny to her how he sounds so... old-fashioned. "I know but it's for the look! The vibe~" She takes a step back and looks at her work, tapping her pursed lips with the end of the brush. "Go like this," she motions with her lips, wanting to add a little more colour so it looks like he's got blood stained lips. Her touch is gentle as she applies the make-up and when she pulls back, she claps. "Perfect! The best looking vampire there is!"

Tidying up her workspace and putting everything away, Doom watches her, head tilting as her bunny tail shakes side to side quickly, showing off her excitement. It's different to when she's her usual self, her beautiful fox tail sways slowly but a bunny tail, it's fast. He's curious, wondering why she decided to go with this look rather than choosing something else but also, "the witches made you into that?" His tone isn't meant to be judgemental towards her but he's most certainly questioning what kind of witches would make a potion like this.

"Yeah!" She says, turning around now that she's finished up and posing to show off her full outfit. The pink complements her skin and while she's still showing a lot of skin - she's covered enough to not be judged in public. "They tried to do something last year but it ended up causing a bit of trouble." She giggles when she thinks about the mishap, "but they are better now! Practicing a lot."

The God hums, following after Jangmi as she takes his hand to lead him out of the room. She's very open with her physical affection and part of it is to make sure Doom doesn't wander off and mistake someone for a being that they are not. Doom has been rather patient with Jangmi and she seems to be the only one who manages to handle his weird way of talking - they say it's weird, she thinks it's endearing. "Why did you choose to be a bunny?"

Jangmi thinks for a moment, many reasons coming to her mind but she'd rather not share them out loud. "I wanted to try something new, do you think it suits me?" She turns her head towards him, the music having started and people were slowly pouring in from outside.

They are in amongst some of the dancers, people who had gotten in early and were drunk enough to be dancing. Doom leans in closer, the noise around them risking her not hearing him so he wants to make sure that she can. "I like you better as a fox." He doesn't realise the impact his words have, the way they cause Jangmi's cheeks to flush.

Wow, who knew Doom could flirt - or is he just simply paying a compliment?

Jangmi had managed to get Doom to dance, keeping him from looking like an oddity on the floor. He didn't want to drink even though Irene did encourage but he did mention that if Jangmi was to have something, he would try as well. "A gentleman," she giggles, taking his hand and pulling him to the bar. She struggles to get through the crowd but they seem to part rather easily for the large God, who even in his human form, towers over everyone. "What would you like to try?"

"What do you recommend?" He responds and she smiles, ordering two soft pink cocktails that has luster dust in it to give it a magical illusion. There's a playful look in her eyes as she passes him the drink, watching as Doom eyeing it up before bringing it to his lips and trying it. "What is it?" He asks, the flavours seem foreign to him, fruity but obviously artificial.

"It's called 'The Lover'," Jangmi says, not at all blushing as she says the words, "it's one of Miss Irene's cocktails that she said is to give 'magical' effects to those who drink it. It's not real though! So don't worry, I don't know if magic can work on a God but you won't be falling in love with me!... Or... or anyone!" She shakes her head, following Doom to the booth he usually sits at and takes a seat across from him, sipping her drink. A silence falls between them before Jangmi asks, "so, how are you enjoying your first Halloween back on Earth?"

She knows a little bit about him, small pieces that he's shared when she's asked the right questions but she knows it's been a long time since he had been on Earth which is why she's been tasked to help him adjust. It's also her way of saying thanks for saving her, even though he tells her he didn't do it for her.

"It feels disrespectful," he says, looking over the crowd. "Drinking, dressing up, partying, this is not what the day is meant to be about." Jangmi knows what he means, a lot of traditions and holidays had changed since he was last on Earth so it must be unsettling to learn that something you knew is no longer the same so suddenly.

As Doom continues to speak, more to himself than her, Jangmi thinks for a moment, watching the dust in her glass swirl around and shortly after, an idea comes to her mind. "How about I show you what else humans do on Halloween?" Her eyes glisten with excitement, the lights reflecting off her wide eyes whenever they pass over them. "Show you that it's not just an excuse to drink and party."

She hasn't been able to go out and enjoy the evening festivities in a while, now that she thinks about it, and what better way to enjoy the sound of laughter and fun than to show it to someone who has never experienced it?

They are wandering around the streets, walking side by side as Jangmi points to all the different attractions that can be found. "Some places open up stalls, different foods or trinkets to buy, some times people will do your face painting just in case you don't do your own." She smiles and pulls him towards a stall that's selling toffee fruits, buying them one each before they continue on their exploration.

Children run about, their parents frantically trying to keep up as they stop by places, singing their song to get a treat and trying to frighten people after. "Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves," Doom simply states, taking a bite of the strawberry and Jangmi smiles up at him, watching him eat the treat. "Why do they ask for a trick or treat if they only want the treat?"

She continues to explain, answering his questions to the best of her knowledge and using her phone to answer things that she's not entirely sure of. It's something she's learned to not be ashamed of, using the internet to help him out, he's filled with his own knowledge and wisdom but she's learnt that when it comes to the modern world - Doom is like a newborn.

A tall, handsome and slightly scary newborn.

They reach a street that has been repurposed for the night. Attractions are all over and paid actors are walking up and down, scaring people left and right. Though, it might not be smart for them to scare Jangmi, as when one man made her jump, a soft scream leaving her lips, the God turned so quick that she couldn't stop him from grabbing the man by the neck. "Doom!" She hurries, grabbing his hand as he lifts the poor man in the air, eyes narrowing slightly, "please, put him down! Please!" She asks, urgency in her voice because she can see the way his fingers flex, itching to snap his neck.

She manages to do so, bringing Doom's arm down with constant reassurances of her being okay. "Apologise." He says, the low growl in his voice causes the man to shake as he's forced to his knees.

"It's okay! This is- Doom, this is his job. It's okay!" No matter what she says though, the God still keeps the man in place with his stare and doesn't let him go until he profusely apologises. She chews her lip nervously, grabbing his hand and pulling him along before they end up getting in some kind of trouble.

Her heart is racing, listening for the sound of someone calling after them as they hurry into the crowd - though, losing anyone when Doom stands out is a mission. Luckily, there's no chase, nobody trying to confront them so once the danger has passed, their pace slows even though she holds his hand tightly.

He's still eating his toffee fruit with the other and she reasons that holding on his free hand can keep him from mistaking another actor for a potential threat. "How about..." the haunted house is clearly out of the question so Jangmi comes up with another idea. "Let's go and find a place to eat! Do you like apple pie?"

Whether he's had it or not, Jangmi leaves no chance for him to say no, pulling him along towards the sweet, sweet scent that wafts from a restaurant.

It's 3am by the time Jangmi stands on the doorstep of her Alpha, cheeks slightly flushed and tingling from the alcohol she had earlier. She's tipsy, not drunk, and that makes all the difference when the wolf opens the door.

His brow furrows, slightly confused at the situation since his sleep-addled brain hasn't quite registered who is at his door. Shirtless, hair messy and rubbing his eyes, Chan takes a moment to realise that its Jangmi at his door. "Princess?" Her scent is different, she knows that but she can also see the way her scent is affecting the wolf.

"Trick or treat, Alpha~." She giggles, stepping forward boldly and placing her hands on his bare chest. She tiptoes to give him a quick kiss, the alcohol in her system giving her courage she normally doesn't have.

His hands rest on her hips, tightening slightly as her scent continues to surround him. She knew when she came over that he's in rut, that her, like this, would be a lot for the usually composed Alpha to handle but here she is - testing his restraint.

"Where's Doom?" Chan says, his nose going to her neck and running along the spot where her scent is the strongest. It drives him slightly insane being able to smell another man on her but he keeps himself calm... or as calm as he can be with her like this.

"He's back at the club." She says, Chan's lips peppering kisses along her slender neck, back up to her lips and capturing them with a restrained intensity.

"Is the party over, baby girl? How did you get here, hm? You should have told me and I would have come and grabbed you." Every few words are interrupted by a kiss, their lips hungry as their bodies press together.

Jangmi giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck and shaking her head. "Alpha," she says, earning a hum, "I asked you a question first~. Trick," she says the word slowly, like she's teasing him, "or treat."

And from the twitch in his lips, it seems like the wolf is playing along. "Treat." He utters with a grin, closing the door behind her and pulling her deeper into the house.

💜 @moonlightchn @doom-bc

#post: jangmi #🦊: alpha #🦊: doom

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thedeathwitchescats · 10 months

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What if we took out the manipulative and borderline abusive aspects of neil and andrews relationship in cannon??

These are just the major things that I think made their relationship really toxic

1) practically kidnapping and then drugging neil

2) andrews overtly controlling nature

3) andrew choking Kevin

4) neil grabbing andrew without his consent to look at his sh scars after andrew was literally brutally assaulted

5) andrew pulling knives on his family anytime they piss him off

6) andrew almost punching neil after neil was fucking kidnapped and tortured bc he was upsetty spaghetti

Now how do I think they could have had the same impact without being fucking abusive?? Lets go point by point

1) instead of Andrew fucking blackmailing neil he could have just, fuck, asked???? And also I really wish the drugging thing had been more of an overtly nikky thing bc even tho I firmly believe andrew would have killed nikky had he known he had kissed neil noncon it was explicitly stated that andrew told nikky to drug neil and aided in him being drugged. Had that been a nikky exclusive thing that would have been a big step in overall giving andrew more sympathy points. I know he was protecting his family and thereby the rest of the foxes too, but he went about it in a really shitty way and then for this never to be later addressed is just icky

2) so yea by book two neil more or less goes along consensually with andrews chaos but it is very much implied that andrew would not be taking no for an answer ((outside of intimacy)) if he didnt feel like it. If the "I asked" thing neil has went both ways that would have taken the controlling shit right out and that would have been really good for andrew bc the upperclassmen would see that he isnt forcing neil to do shit neil doesnt wanna do, neil is just insane

3) if the upperclassmen see that andrew is willing to choke Kevin when, as far as they know, Kevin isnt directly tied to where neil is then wtf are they gonna think about what he might do to neil???? This is very much just a, looking in this seems sketchy, type deal but i think the upperclassmen really didnt get treated like actual characters half the time and this was one of them. They basically just went "well its andrew so meh." Had andrews whole "dont touch my things" persona been just that, a persona for the outside and internally he was just concerned about keeping the monsters, and to a smaller extent the upperclassmen, safe then that would have severely improved him. And Andrew not choking Kevin the fuck out would go a long way for that

4) so overall yes andrew has the mostly abusive tendencies and, no, I dont think this was abusive it was just, rude??? Like if people fucking look at my scars I get pissed let alone when people touch them??? I have and will continue to throw hands. Let alone in the situation andrew was in??? I am surprised he didnt kill neil. I think this would have been far more rational had he simply looked at andrews scars and internally thought things in his own skull. Andrew could have been like "staring" and neil could have looked the fuck away and it would be much less gross tbh.

5) andrew pulling a knife on nikky for harassing neil was fine. No comments or concerns. But we see later in the series he oddhandedly pulls knives on nikky and kevin ((not so much aaron)) whenever the fuck they piss him off and thats just ew. If he pulled knives on other people thats one thing, but on his family??? Wtf no

6) I like to pretend this didnt happen. Not only bc contextually it makes no fucking sense but bc it really damages not only andrews character but the perception EVERYONE in the room should have. Again, the upperclassmen arent being treated as characters in this scene so its a little iffy but realistically this should have been a damaging point in andrews character and the fact that it wasnt is ridiculous. Either way, had this small detail been taken out it would have been a lot more of a heartwarming scene like it was supposed to be

#this is not a space for aftg hate #this is a beloved series of mine #rational criticism is fine but do not fucking mindlessly hate on this story #aftg #🪓

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lesbianrobin · 2 years

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hi em i know you get a bunch of asks & if you don’t feel like answering this that’s ok !! i know you have a lot of knowledge about tv & script writing so i was just wondering, do you think steve will die in s5? do you think his speech about his hopes/dreams for the future was a death sentence?

thank you for this ask ur so nice!!

to be very clear i am Not an expert in television or screenwriting and i have no practical experience in the field i've just taken some classes bc i'm a film studies + communication media major. so yknow this is just my opinion and it isn't like gospel or whatever.

all of that said, i truly think steve is safe in s5. i understand why his speech about the future scares some people, especially with how formulaic and lazy st has gotten with their character deaths, but i struggle to see them killing him in s5 for multiple reasons, one of those being how eddie died. it seems ridiculous and redundant to introduce a new character and give him the same brotherly relationship with dustin that steve has, have the guy sacrifice himself protect dustin, and then die in dustin's arms........ aaaaaand then also kill steve the very next season thus putting dustin through that exact same experience of losing his big brother figure Again. if they had any intention of killing steve in s5 i don't think they would have written eddie's death to be so focused on dustin.

there's also the fact that so far st Still has not killed any of their main characters. they're very attached to all of their mains and because of that i think that if they Do finally kill a main in s5, it'll be somebody more central to the plot/story, like el, mike, or hopper. yknow if they're going to kill off a main character in the finale i think they'll probably go for the biggest possible impact and make it very plot-significant, and i think having el or mike or hop make a big final sacrifice to end things for good makes more sense than steve just Finally succumbing to all of the beatings and whatnot or suddenly becoming so relevant to the main plot that He makes the big sacrifice play.

finally after the way they treated his demobat wounds in s4 i feel like they almost just. don't even take him seriously enough to kill him. like in their minds it seems like steve is just there to take a beating to raise the stakes and then keep going. i think that his speech about the future was primarily being used to develop st/ancy again (ew) and reference the "mom steve" thing in a cute way. so far in st they're pretty swift with their "oh you dared to hope for good things for yourself? perish" shit dkvjdjc like these bitches always die pretty soon after sharing their goals and i think they might have saved that for s5 if they were planning to kill him then.

all of that said i am also A Steve Girlie and i want him alive so bad so i'm invested in believing that he'll live fmvjfncn. so yeah <3

#asks

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therosefrontier · 7 months

Text

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

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Fandom: Genshin Impact

Word Count: 1445

Characters: Lynette (POV), Lyney

Placement?: Some time ago in backstory, soon after Lynette receives her Vision

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“Lynette! Lynette, speak to me! How many fingers am I holding up!?”

Lyney really had no need to be so loud, Lynette thought. Whatever injury she may or may not have had nothing to do with her hearing, really. Still, she found that she was being a little slower to respond than she would like.

She slowly maneuvered herself into a more upright position on the safety net, her head ringing with the motion. “Three,” she answered in response to Lyney’s question. She then took his hand and allowed him to help her off of the net.

“I am fine,” she continued once on solid ground, since she knew that her brother would soon ask again. She looked up at the contraption hanging by ropes high above the stage, the “locked” box that she was to free herself from. It was one iteration of the trick among many, as it was Lyney’s style to never do the same show twice, but it was familiar enough, not too great of a challenge. Or, to be more specific, it wasn’t a challenge to get out of the box. Getting to the ground was slightly different.

“Are you sure?” Lyney asked. He looked frightened and anxious, which was uncharacteristic for him these days, but it was understandable. He just watched her fall from a great height, and she was admittedly still feeling the reverberations from the impact, but it was nothing of note compared to “Father’s” training, so she wouldn’t complain.

“I am,” she assured. “The net caught my fall.” She was stating the obvious, but yes. That was its design.

“Well…alright,” Lyney relented, still seeming tense. “Just give yourself a break to recover, alright? And maybe we should rethink this trick, too. We did something similar from the ground already—I think we can add something fresh while still keeping it there. Putting the box in the air requires a lot of acrobats on your part, and I don’t know…”

“But it was my idea,” Lynette pointed out, cutting him off. “It’s not much of a concern, really. I want to try it this way.”

“What? Oh, y-yeah, sure. Of course!” Lyney dropped his awkwardness quickly in favor of an easy smile. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from my dear sister! I suppose it’s only natural that you would get even more ambitious after—uh, I mean, after everything we’ve done already! There is nowhere to go but up from here, Lynette!��

Lynette silently nodded, observing the rapid changes in Lyney’s expression. “Yes. I will take my break now.”

+++

Seven weeks earlier, Lynette received a Vision. In the time that transpired since that day, she noticed that Lyney had gotten more anxious. It would seem that a big part of it lay in the fact that Lynette no longer went on missions with him. Twice now, the House of the Hearth has sent her out alone, the reason being because she could now do more dangerous activities, since she wielded a Vision. It was something Lynette didn’t think of much before, back when they were children and Lyney would read her the amazing stories he found about people with Visions and all the fantastic exploits they would do. Since that power was so rare, it was also quite lonely. It meant that from here on out, she must do things differently from everyone else, and be put in a separate category. Lynette’s powers were nothing like the stories, though. They were quite modest, really. It would take additional training to hone her abilities further, but also, she had no desire to learn to make dramatic, flashy displays. She would learn what was practical for her line of work, and nothing more. She operated in stealth far more often than she fought armies.

Lynette was not lonely, either. She was fine. She had Lyney, and also, Freminet. She and Lyney had their magic show together. Even if she had to do more dangerous work for the Fatui now, on account of her increased abilities, she still had this. She cared nothing for the crowds or the fame that gratefully overlooked her much of the time, but she was content to go where her family went. She needed nothing more.

Lynette continued to practice her trick. In the theater hall that was to be the site of their next performance, a mere two weeks from now, she made the most of her time. She climbed up into the box, lifted high above the stage, and she discreetly made her escape, climbing onto the structure hidden behind the curtain to get to the stairs that would lead her down. It was rather different, for her. She created the shows alongside Lyney, yes, but he spearheaded most of the ideas. Usually, Lynette’s role in this process was to point out the flaws in Lyney’s bolder schemes and remind him of budget constraints. However, it was Lynette who decided that she wanted to do this trick from the air.

Lyney was the magician. Even when Lynette escaped the box herself by way of the elaborate contraption inside, “he” would be the one who did the miraculous act, as far as the audience was concerned. This deception did not bother Lynette at all. In fact, she preferred it. She didn’t like attention or to be asked questions. Besides, Lyney could just as easily do the trick himself. He had capabilities that went far beyond his silver tongue and knack for redirecting the audiences’ eye. It didn’t matter whether or not he was actual one “doing” anything.

For this reason, however, there seemed little cause for Lynette practicing over and over again, into the depths of the night. She fell to the safety net yet again. It would seem that her feline blood only did so much for her in terms of natural balance and that elusive ability to “always land on your feet.” It might, however, serve as an explanation as to why she felt this sudden desire to be up in high places, although it created more work for herself, which was generally something she preferred to avoid if she could. She rather liked it up here. Perhaps, the desire was a result of the Anemo Vision she now wore at her back. It was an element closely associated with the sky, which supposedly made her “one with the wind.” Some wielders used to “fly,” although that, of course, was more of an illusion created by the power of Anemo lifting or launching oneself up, rather than true, unrestrained flight.

She received the Vision when she jumped off a cliff, so that could have something to do with it. Or maybe, it was sometime afterwards. She didn’t notice when it happened; she was too focused on pulling her unconscious brother out of the water, and of dragging them both to safety through that dark, unfamiliar forest. She sometimes wondered why she got it, as well. She heard that Visions were granted to the ambitious, but she was not ambitious. She had no aspirations at all aside from simply living, so she could not tell what the big deal was for. Still, it was a useful tool. It saved their lives by acting as Lynette’s guide, quite possibly, so she would readily thank whatever deity was responsible for that reason alone. Although, she did suspect sometimes that the mysterious giver of Visions could simply be a machine like the Oratrice. It seemed improbable to her that even the gods could see everyone everywhere all at once, as would arguably be necessary to perform such a feat with constancy.

Lynette continued practicing. She did her brief balancing act in the rafters, keeping a skilled, nimble step in that place where no one could see her. One morning, she received another directive. She needed to investigate an Abyss stronghold, it seemed. And she would do it alone.

Lyney was anxious. Lynette had no faith that any words she could come up with would assuage him, so she said nothing. She just stayed. She stayed by his side, forever his shadow, listening to him talk to many people, listening to him regale to her his plans.

And then Lynette would go on her own to the stage in the empty auditorium, and she would do her practice in simple, methodical manner.

That night, she decided it was time. “You can take the safety nets down,” she told the stage hands, her tone certain. “I won’t be needing them, now. The show is in only a few days, after all.”

She would be fine. Even if she did fall, it really would be nothing of note.

#whumptober 2023 #no.1 #safety net #how many fingers am I holding up?#genshin impact #fic #lynette #lyney #just chill times preparing for a show #while lyney is stressed for multiple reasons in the background #falling from heights but safety nets are a thing

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