#im going to be working on a comic very slowly

[jess-garveyart]

"I haven't accessed this part of my brain in like 50 years..."

Another sketch of southern gothic... Post kiss, I'm imagining Imogen is super cautious at first and lets Laudna take lead until Laudna figures out exactly what she wants.

[bugsinshoes]

I want to see your OCs in action!

RAHHHH LAURIE DUMP !!!!!

these are just little doodles of my favourite goober ever <3 shes My Main OC so i HAVE to share more of her (shes all i ever think about)

shes so lovely, it would be a shame if something bad were to happen to her :)

(she'll be fine guys)

[trypo-p]

would you guys be interested in me making a TF2 OC for shits and giggles

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍

[arielluva]

that last post just reminded me ive been working on my one passion project for almost 5 years now..... dude.

probably gonna go for a while longer too bc i still have to figure things out, and also to try and refine the story from its original state enough that it doesnt seem like a 9th grader wrote it

[gatorbites-imagines]

Logan begging for it.... so sweetly we cant refuse..... when he knows reader needs his sleep..... taking it in his even when it stays soft...... cockwarming reader while we sleeps.....

Yes im writing whis as I fall asleep

Logan Howlett x male reader

headcanons

I was gonna write a longer thing, but a migraine decided to kick my ass all of a sudden, so here I am simply rambling about this.

Imagine having a normal but exhausting day job. You’re no hero, no vigilante, no nothing, you’re just a guy. And you somehow ended up charming the pants off of The Wolverine of all people. How? You have no idea

Dating Logan is a real treat, even with his roughness and sometimes standoffish personality. When you guys really get close, he starts to get more vulnerable.

Along with vulnerable emotionally, he also starts to get a much stronger libido, seeing as he has a partner now. Him having a healing factor doesn’t help you in this case, since it means he has very little recovery time.

Seeing Logan, one would think hed be the dominant one, something you assumed in the beginning too. That was until you guys got intimate the first time and he shoved you onto your back to ride you instead.

There were no complaints from you obviously, because who’d mind having someone like that riding you? Logan in his broad, hairy and so very heavy way, lifting himself up and down on you like it was barely a workout.

You have to remind him to be careful though, multiple times, seeing as his bones make him extra heavy, and your poor hips are that of the average person.

Having a partner with a libido like that though, also means Logan is always raring to go, almost waiting for you by the door when you get home from your shift, like an old gruff dog waiting for affection.

The first week or two of you coming home dead on your feet and passing out on the couch the moment you sat down passed… as well as they could for Logan. He wouldn’t force you to do anything you hadn’t agreed with, but God, is he starting to get antsy.

After way too long, in Logans opinion at least, he finally can’t take it anymore. Being the Loverboy he secretly is, he at least brings you to your shared bed before clambering on top of you again.

You’re just too exhausted to do much other than pet at his thighs, eyes already drooping, but his almost timid but so desperate begging keeps you awake longer than other days. When you sleepily agree, Logan kisses you so hungrily you almost lose your breath.

You stay somewhat awake in the beginning as he works your clothes off, being kind enough not to rip it even if logan really really wanted too. He knows its your work clothes, and you’ve scolded him enough times about ripping up your clothes at this point.

It was hard to even really stay awake as Logan worked you hard, just enough for him to slide down on you, his groans sounding like he was a starving man having his first bite of food in weeks. Had you not been struggling to keep your eyes open, you might have teased him.

When Logan leans forward and just rests his weight on you, that was the last straw. Who could stay awake with such a warm heavy weight pressing down on them, like your own personal weighted wolverine blanket.

Logan didn’t even really feel the need to ride you or get himself off, he just wanted to be close to you like this, to feel you inside him and press up against you. So having slowly doze off under him wasn’t a bother, especially as you mumble for him to just keep going.

Most of the night is majorly used by Logan to just tuck his face into your neck and huff your scent, or rub his own against you. You will wake up with beard burns, sorry but those at the rules. Theres probably some chew marks and hickeys mixed in there too, Logans possessive.

You do wake up with very sore hips the next morning. In the comics he’s 300 lbs, but that’s with his comic height, so if were going off of movie Logan he weighs even more. And no matter how much you work out, that’s gotta make you sore.

You don’t really mind though, especially as Logan makes sure you massage your hips in ways you didn’t even know were possible. This also just gives Logan an excuse to lick and gnaw at you more, and to rub more of his scent into you, and yours into him.

Yes, you limp that day, and probably the day after. Luckily you’re able to work from home. This of course also means you have Logan on your dick the entire time, even if its just your mutant lover crawling under the blanket to get his mouth on you.

[rieamena]

storytime!!! so basically im going through a mini writer's block right now so i started cooking to get my mind off it and now all i can think about is cooking with ino takuma

wc: 0.8k contains: pure fluff and nanami's here too i guess, reader is referred to as girlfriend, modern au author's note: fun fact! so i lost most of this and i had to rewrite all of the parts i lost and when i found out i actually started to cry! but i hope yall like it! inbox open for requests + qna questions + anything and everything

first off, i firmly believe this guy is the most mediocre chef EVER. you cannot convince me otherwise. however!, i will give him his props. he can cook his cute lil suspiciously scrumptious dishes when he has the time but that does not stop him from trying to get better at cooking

once you two started dating, he without a doubt begun brushing up on his skills. he went from being able to make a "banger sandwich" to a "banger le poulet frit et les gaufres" which was just chicken and waffles but he's trying okay!!!

he definitely consulted (begged) head chef nanami, as he called him in this situation, to help with his culinary skills. and i'm not talking regular begged, i'm talking groveling at his feet, begged. and nanami obliged, teaching ino how to cook, starting at the very basics, the importance of mise en place: the practice of organizing and preparing your ingredients and equipment before starting to cook

soon enough, ino's culinary lessons with head chef nanami blossomed. he started from basically nothing and now he's mastered the perfect milk to cereal ratio and a near perfect filet mignon. did he know what that was? no. did he watch nanami make it under the excuse of watching is the best form of learning? yes.

but you have to start somewhere! and you have to give him his tens!! he did light the stove and he preheat the oven. he's practically a chef already! and all that watching definitely paid off

"here, try this recipe with your girlfriend." nanami slid a slip of paper over to ino, tiny, uniform inked words on it. "and here is your copy, good luck." an identical piece of paper was given to ino again but it had handwritten notes like pay attention to the flame and i wouldn't recommend substituting this ingredient, it is very vital for the overall taste of the dish

so here you both were in the kitchen, aprons on and eyes peering at the recipe. "step one," takuma started, tightening his apron like he was about to do some serious work. he lifted up a comically large pot and placed it on the stove, pulling out (and flaunting) the crabs he handpicked from the market right after. "get your pot and your crabs."

"step two," you filled the pot halfway with water, sprinkling in a bit of salt and lighting the fire underneath it. "bring your pot of water to a rapid boil."

"what're you doing babe?" your words were clearly a question though it was one that you could answer simply by looking. "i'm paying attention to the flame." takuma pulled your shoulder flush to his, eyes still watching the blue flame with intent and unwavering focus. "i don't think it's going anywhere but okay."

once the water bubbled up violently, ino threw in the crabs and you went to the bathroom to freshen up. you were humming a sweet song while drying your hands when the all too familiar shrill scream of your boyfriend pierced your ears. "takuma?!" you called out, running to the kitchen, hands an uncomfortable damp. and there he was. takuma had the pot lid propped up as if it were a shield, tears pricking his eyes, "baby...", he called out to you. "the crab... it jumped out of the pot..."

"you bought live crabs...?"

"they weren't moving when i bought them."

"ah."

grabbing some nearby tongs, you placed the crab back into the salted water, "wait..., shouldn't we kill them first?" ino slowly nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket, "let's see... wikihow... how to cook a crab..."

"freeze the crabs?!" your in-sync voices rang through your house, bouncing off the walls. "we're not freezing any crabs." you continued, confusion and sass dripping from your lips. "damn right we're not! but, uh, how're we supposed to kill them then?" gulping at your boyfriend's question, you thought for a bit

tugging at one of the drawers, a collection of knives, given to you both by nanami, were revealed. picking the biggest one up and holding it's handle firm and tightly. "surely we could just," the blade sliced through the air, mimicking the swift movement of killing a crab. takuma shook in his place, "hey, queen, you should, uh, watch where you're swinging that. you might hurt yourself," he came closer to you, fingers squeezing and squishing your cheeks. "and then i would have to nurse my pretty girlfriend back to health!"

slapping his hands away playfully, you sighed, "babe, focus! what're we gonna do? i don't wanna kill the crabs..." ino put his hands on his hips, a triumphant smile on his face, "don't worry, i got this."

long story short, he did not.

"oh my god." the plastic fork slipped from takuma's hands clanking against the matching plastic container of takeout

"what?"

"we didn't do mise en place."

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @gojosbrat @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @lailuv21

[girlboybug]

Shades of Cool

“my baby lives in shades of cool, cold heart and hands of aptitude.”

or the one where joel can’t seem to stay away from you despite his efforts to. but it’s not like he tried very hard to begin with.

what’s playing 🎧 : shades of cool by lana del rey

pairing : joel miller x female!reader

word count : 9k

CONTENT WARNINGS : SMUT, creampie, breeding kink if u squint, oral f receiving, fingering, loss of virginity, virginity kink if u squint yet again, tummy bulge, unspecified age gap and joel kind of has a thing for it, unprotected sex, (pls wear a condom guys im just a mf on tumblr) multiple orgasms, a tad of overstimulation, allusions to male masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, mating press, prone bone, light dom/sub dynamics, reader def has some unresolved daddy issues mean!joel but theres some soft joel

TRIGGER WARNINGS : minor character death/reference to his death but he literally doesn't exist in the show i promise, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of guns, implied/references to sexual harassment

a/n : this is my first time uploading to tumblr, forgive me if my layout is funky lol, anyways pls enjoy <3 read the second part here

you swallowed hard when you saw joel making his way towards the alleyway you two routinely met up in. watching as he did his typical side to side glance, casual in presence but it was muscle memory for him to ensure the safety of his environment no matter it’s location or the mundaneness of it. 

you quite disliked the feeling that pricked your chest and quickly spread inside the cavity, overflowing up into your throat and drowning out any coherent thoughts in your mind whenever you saw joel. 

it was annoying. pathetic even. just a silly schoolgirl crush you hoped would go away in time. 

you put aside the fluttering feelings for later, and waved, catching his attention. he sent a curt nod, rubbing his palms together before pushing them into his denim pockets. “hey.” he greeted you, if you could really call it that. 

you took whatever you could get from him, so you smiled, parroting it back with a nervous politeness. 

“do you have the uh…” you trailed off, feeling embarrassed that you struggled to even verbalize what you were trading. 

he raised a brow, folding his arms over his chest, looking at you expectingly. “i got it. you got the rations?” he finished speaking for you and you nodded enthusiastically, hurriedly pulling out the thick wad of rations you worked your ass off for. 

he shut his eyes with exasperation for a few seconds before hovering his larger hand over the wad, miraculously dwarfing your own hand. “don’t wave it around kid, jesus,” he sighed, shaking his head while palming it and sliding it away into his back pocket. 

“sorry…” you muttered embarrassedly. 

he didn’t reply, and instead handed you a box, bright purple and pink and your gaze slowly rose up to his face with a slightly ajar mouth. “uh. joel.” you started, voice leading into an upward trail of confusion. 

“if i wanted tampons i could have easily gotten this myself.” you wanted to hide the slight irritation in your tone but he caught on to it, unfolding his arms to jab the top of the box with his index finger. “how about you open it smartass.” he instructed dryly, moving backward and refolding his arms. 

your eyes lingered on him tryingly for a few more seconds, huffing quietly to yourself before flipping the cardboard flap up. 

again. tampons. 

you tilted it towards him and he dragged his hand down his face tiredly. he dug his hand into the box, the tampons shoved to the sides, revealing a small pistol. 

your mouth fell open into a comical O shape, laughing in awe. “oh!” you giggled and joel stared at you blankly, already feeling a hankering for a straight shot of whiskey at the bright and early hour of 8:30am. 

“very creative.” you beamed and it seemed as though joel fought back a smile behind a glare. at least, you told yourself that. 

“just enough for gullible people.” he pushed at a button of yours, just a little, and you paused for a second, shooting him a playful glare. “whatever,” you exhaled through a quiet chuckle. 

“thank you joel, i appreciate the um. tampons, i was running low.” you played along with the bit and he rolled his eyes, nodding, already ready to go back home. 

“sure thing.” he was about to turn and walk out of the alleyway but something held him in his spot. 

he took in a deep inhale before making eye contact with you, rendering you back into your nervous state from when he first arrived. 

“why do you need a pistol? we’ve only ever traded for small things. why the sudden big order?” he has absolutely no clue why he’s asking you this, or rather, he has no idea why he’s letting himself ask this. 

he shouldn’t care. he doesn’t. 

you stiffened, straightening your back and holding the box to your stomach, hands cupping the bottom of it. “just to keep at my place. thought i’d feel safer with it.” you answered truthfully, making sure to not go further into detail. 

his squinted eyes stay on you for awhile, unsure of what you needed to feel safe from. “are you uh…in any trouble?” he asks and you feel a little excitement ignite in your lower belly. 

is he worried about you?

“no! no not at all, i just…i don’t know,” you try to laugh it off but the silence between you two just feels heavy instead. “why do you ask?” you question and he shrugged. 

“if you’re in trouble, i don’t need it somehow coming back to me. i got enough shit i need to worry about.” he answered and the bubble inside you popped and deflated almost immediately. 

“oh, well no need to worry about that. it’s nothing like that, you’ll be fine.” you decided to end the conversation there, a cold feeling of humiliation that prods at your shoulders and throat alerting you that it’s best to just walk away before you can say anything else that might make the situation more unbearable. 

“thanks joel.” you added, quickly making your way out the alleyway. “be careful with that thing.” he called out after you, and you feel the bubble slowly start to shamelessly inflate itself once more. 

maybe he does care. even if it’s just a little. 

—

you hid the box in the shoddy nightstand you had lugged up into your apartment from off the street one night, and exhaled lowly, pursing your lips. “this is good.” you stated to yourself. 

the whole reason why you wanted a gun, was kind of useless if you really put some actual thought into it. 

it really was just for the comfort of your mind, putting the nerves you had at ease. like a security blanket of sorts. 

fedra soldiers occasionally conduct inspections, making a mess of people’s homes to look for any contraband, firefly propaganda, weapons, anything that so much acts as an eyesore to them is grounds for permanent confiscation. 

there’s a specific solider that just makes you uncomfortable, makes your skin prickle up into sharp goosebumps and makes your stomach churn like dry gears rubbing up against each other. 

the way his eyes follow you around, rejoicing in his power over you and how you cowered away from him. 

they come in as pairs to inspect and even if they didn’t, he was still taller, stronger, heavily armed and trained and could kill you in front of a crowd of people and still face no consequences. so a singular witness wouldn't stop him from breaking the rules.

if anything, you’ve probably just put yourself in more danger carrying a weapon. but you felt that if you had it, you maybe had a fighting chance in case push came to shove. 

you collected yourself into your very depressing excuse of a bed, lifting the fraying crotched blanket over your body, pretending you were anything less than semi uncomfortable.

the next morning, you woke up with a slightly sore feeling that resided in just about every crevice of your body but you ignore it, as it’s a common thing to wake up to if you’ve got what basically feels like laying on a napkin as a bed, and using what feels like an even thinner napkin as a blanket. 

you readied yourself to participate in street clean up, since you had to take on more shifts than usual to make up for the hefty chunk of rations you gave to joel. 

—

a bandana resided around your nose, neatly but tightly tied behind your head, doing…definitely not enough to cover the stench of cleaning the sludge off the streets. 

"the fuck would i need coffee beans for asshole? hit me up when you’ve actually got good shit to trade.” you overheard two guys a few feet away from you bickering, your ears perking up at the mention of coffee beans. 

you remembered joel vaguely mentioning how he’d kill for a cup of coffee, and you agreed on that sentiment, even though you’ve never once had coffee.  the point being, he’d been out of coffee for awhile, unable to find anyone who has it, and you figured maybe scoring him a bag would be a nice sign of gratitude for the pistol. 

you pulled down your bandana, walking over to the guy once the other one walked off. “hi, um i didn’t mean to eavesdrop but i heard you have coffee beans? i’d be willing to trade for them.” 

“i don’t take kindly to nosy—“ he cut himself off mid sentence once he turned to look at you, his eyes dragging up and down your body and you wondered in that moment if it was worth the hassle of talking to this. thing. 

but then you thought of joel, and how maybe he’d smile at you, thank you with a tight bear hug and suddenly, it did all seem worth it. 

“yeah, yeah i’d definitely be happy to trade with you,” he grinned and you laughed, trying to hide your disgust with fake excitement. “great! what would you want for it? i have some spare shampoo bars, a pair of wool socks i was saving for winter, or—“ 

he cut you off this time, leaning into your space closer and you instinctively backed away. “i was thinking maybe something different.” he alluded to something that made cleaning up literal shit off the street seem a lot more pleasant. 

your face fell and you lifted up your bandana. “yeah, nevermind. thanks anyway.” 

you turned on your heel and he groaned, calling after you. “the socks…” he huffed, rubbing the side of his chin. “are they soft?” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. 

you tugged down the bandana again, smiling brightly. “very!” 

—

you scheduled another meet up with joel, excited to gift him the bag of coffee beans. 

you were slightly sad to let go of the socks, your feet always got so cold in the winter and the nights were already starting to increase in frigidness, but it’s okay, you could always find another pair of socks again, but you didn’t know if you’d have another chance to pleasantly surprise joel like this. 

against joel’s typical judgment, he said to just stop by his apartment, feeling too tired to lug himself down into the alleyway again. 

but all you heard from that was he trusted you enough into his personal space. which, as much as joel would deny it, is true. 

he could clearly envision you apologizing to a fly for so much as being in its way, so inviting you over posed as nowhere near a threat. 

you knocked at his door, hiding the bag behind your back before he opened it. the wind got knocked out of you once more at the sight of him. he was very much older than you, easily the age of a man who could be your father, but that didn’t erase any of his attractiveness. 

in the deepest part of your subconscious, you knew that that’s what added onto it. 

“hi!” you chirped and he stepped to the side, widening his door to let you in. “hi.” he repeated, drier but, not unhappily. 

“what’d you wanna trade for again?” he asked, his hand rubbing the side of his stubbly jaw, and you had to look away, knowing you’d just watch him in silence if you didn’t. 

“actually,” you hummed, nearly bursting at the seems with glee. he watched you curiously, unaware of the slight smile on his face as he watched you tip toe closer with your hand still behind your back. 

“i didn’t come by to trade. i got you a gift!” he rested his palms behind him on the small table, his broad shoulders seeming even broader now and you wanted to run your hands across the expanse of them. 

“a gift?” he asked, breaking you out of your trance. he sounded genuinely shocked, almost unable to believe you. “mhm!” you nodded, a smile still etched on your features. 

“close your eyes, and open your hands.” you instructed, and he tilted the side of his head to you, wordlessly saying really? 

you nudged your chin, motioning for him to listen, your way of replying with yes, really.

he eyed you before shaking his head, standing up straight and closing his eyes, his palms bared out for you, muttering a quiet, i have no idea why i’m listenin’ to you. 

you plopped the bag of coffee into his hands, sing songing a soft “now open!” 

he opened his eyes, his lips parting in awe. he laughed out of disbelief, and your heart soared with joy as you saw him smile, and widely at that. 

“kid…you…why? i mean, god, thank you, but why?” he asked and you shrugged, rocking back and forth on your heel to your toes. “take it as a thanks for my pist-i mean tampons.” you joked and he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the beans down onto the table. 

“well, thank you, that’s mighty kind of you.” he looked downward at you, and you looked back up at him, trying to memorize the way his lips were curled, the sweet lines by his eyes and the way he just seemed so happy by such a small act of kindness. 

“no biggie!” you replied, and he darted his eyes away for a moment before turning back to you. “do you know how to use your gun?” he asked and you felt your face grow hot with slight embarrassment. 

“uh. i mean you just aim and pull the trigger right?” you asked honestly and he blinked a few times before shaking his head. “okay so you don’t.” and you squinted at him. “i could teach you. get you some extra bullets too.” he remedied the half joking comment with his offer and you perked up. 

“yeah? you would?” you asked excitedly and he nodded. “‘course. you just went from tolerated, to slightly more tolerated in my book. so i’m gonna help you not accidentally shoot yourself in the foot.” 

you didn’t like how you actually felt a twinge of sadness at his obvious joke about only tolerating you. he was kidding, but sometimes it was hard to tell because he had the same monotone, slightly annoyed at everything everyone has to say, kind of voice. 

and you were a sensitive person, and even the most harmless jokes could manage to sting you. 

“well jeez aren’t you sweet.” you complimented with sarcasm. joel threw on his flannel, ignoring your comment. you stepped aside while he made his way to the door. 

“you comin?” he looked at you, opening the door behind him, waiting for you to follow. you turned around to look behind you stupidly, then back to him. “what?” you asked confusedly and he fought the urge to roll his eyes and take back his offer. 

“we’re gonna start now.” he inclined his head out the door, motioning for you to come along. and who were you to decline doing anything with joel. 

—

joel was here. in your apartment. in your space, in your air. he was sitting on your bed, the place where you’d occasionally, frequently shove your fingers into places you just knew joel would be able to reach with no effort. 

he ran his fingers over the barrel of the gun, drumming against its ridges and for a moment you felt a bit envious over the literal inanimate object. 

“cmere,” he patted the space next to him, waiting for you to be seated so he could get started. 

with wobbly legs you made your way to him, smoothing over your jeans in an attempt to secretly wipe away your clammy palms. 

“show me how you hold it.” he placed it in your hands and it felt foreign to the touch. it was heavier than you expected it to be but you tried to conceal your inexperience by holding it the way you’ve seen others handle their firearms. 

you pointed it at the door, pretending that soldier was in front of you, finger on the trigger and hands at the bottom of it, supporting your grasp. 

he observed your hold, a low hmm coming from the back of his throat. “not terrible.” he adjusted your hands, your skin latching onto his heat, claiming it as yours as his body hovered around your side. 

“how’s that feel?” he asked and you cleared your throat, blinking a few times and avoiding his close stare. “it uh, it feels better.” you answered and he clicked his tongue, nodding curtly to himself. 

“alright. now, when you run out of bullets, the magazine at the bottom might drop out but if it doesn’t, you’re gonna take it out and reload, you wanna be fast if you’re in the middle of, well whatever situations got you needing to pull out a gun.” there was a slight cadence of a joke in his gun lesson 101, and it made a giddy feeling return to your tummy. 

he reached in his back pocket, pulling out what you assumed he meant by magazine. 

he explained the logistics of your newly owned weapon, trying to use terms you’d be able to follow along with, not unaware of how you were watching and listening intently, hanging on to every word he spoke. 

you were too damn obvious. 

—

you saw more of joel after that, bumping into him in places you usually didn’t see him, yet seemingly excited every time you met. 

his aloof stare slowly turned softer when it landed on you, maybe it never changed at all but to you it definitely felt different. 

he swore it was you that had been following him, an air of playfulness in his accusations of you stalking him, but really it was him. 

he unable to admit to himself that he  wandered around the areas he knew you were usually found in, wanting to scold you for having such an easy routine to follow but he kept it to himself. 

he watched you walk beside him, taking in the sights of the town, wondering how you could possibly appreciate the hellhole that surrounded you all. 

“so how’s the coffee? any good?” you asked, turning back to look at him, feeling a hushed breath pause in your throat once you saw he was already looking at you. 

a peek of a smile ghosted over his face. “it’s good. i, i appreciate that you did that. i hope you didn’t have to trade too much for it.” guilt resided in him at the thought of you having to give more than you had just for coffee beans. he felt he wasn’t worth all that effort. 

you shook your head, laughing lightly at the memory of the trade. “no no don’t worry, just a pair of socks. they were these brown wool socks that were so soft, so i’d say it was a pretty fair trade.” 

“i’ll be on the look out for a pair like that then.” he was already figuring out who he could trade with to get you another pair of socks. “no it’s okay you don’t have to it’s-“

“hey,” his voice felt rich, calling your attention back to him. your chest went tight. “yeah?” you whispered back. 

“shut up. i’m gettin’ the socks.” there was a backbone of sternness in his lighthearted promise.

you sucked on your bottom lip through a grin before you spoke again.

“i have a confession.” you exhaled, feigning dramatics and he tilted his head towards you, watching you with worried eyes. “yeah?” 

“i lied. i’ve never had coffee before.” you lowered your head with faux shame and he gasped, shaking his head with disapproval. he paused for a moment, then turned around. 

you caught up with him, holding onto his arm, feeling hot at the taut feeling of his limb, and how he didn’t push you off. he just peered down at you, keeping you there with him. “jeez i didn’t think you’d take such offense to that,” you breathed out through a chuckle. 

“inexcusable. you’re tryin it when we get home.” the twang in his accent was something so attractive, and it only had you feeling more and more willing to do whatever he wanted. you’d drink acid if he asked of it from you in that deep southern drawl. 

you two walked back to his place, shedding a layer out of many, holding onto it as you trailed in behind him. 

he glanced over at you, then your coat. “set it down somewhere, you can have a seat.” he pointed at the round table and you quietly thanked him, hanging your coat over the back of the chair before sliding it out and sitting in it. 

“i remember you have a sweet tooth. damn near talked my head off about trading for a bag of hard candies a few months ago, so i reckon you’d like it sweet.” he mostly talked to himself when he said that, fondly remembering the way you rattled on about how you were craving for caramel drops. 

“you remember that?” you were just about swooning, unable to hide it even when joel walked back over to you, two mugs in each hand of his. “how could i not? you never let me forget it.” he set the mug down in front of you, sipping at his as he leaned back into the chair in front of you. 

you picked it up, hugging the warmth of it with your palm. you took a light sip, your eye shutting, a low quiet moan leaving your lips from around the mug once the taste landed on your tongue. 

joel stirred in his seat at the sound, busying himself with drinking from his cup to avoid making any kind of facial expressions. 

“joel,” you crooned and he felt weak. “you like it?” he asked, his lips still curled over the rim of his mug. “it’s so good, i understand why you like it so much.” 

“well, i don’t make it as sweet as that, but yeah, coffees good. not a lot of people agree.” he shrugged and you set your mug down in front of you. “can i taste yours?” 

he slid it to you and you lifted it, tasting it and almost immediately wanting to spit it out. you quickly gave it back to him, sipping the sweeter coffee to cleanse your offended palette. 

“yeah, that tastes like shit, i don’t know how you drink that.” you smacked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, the burnt taste not quite leaving you just yet. 

he rolled his eyes, taking a loud obnoxious slurp. “my tastebuds are just mature.” 

“mature for what? shit? once you hit a certain age do just you grow accustomed to crappy tasting things?” you were dipping into a more casual way of speaking to joel, causing his gaze that rested on you to turn into a view of amusement. 

“rich comin’ from the kid who still eats like she’s 5.” he rested his arm against the back of his chair, and you expired, feeling a bit defensive of being called a child. 

“i’m not a kid.” you muttered and he chuckled. “alright.” he agreed in sentiments but not in actuality. 

breaking the comfortable silence that filled the room you and joel shared, a loud bang rang from against the door. joel slid from out his chair, hurriedly pacing towards the door. 

before he could even open it, you already knew it was one of fedra’s soldiers. things were starting to feel a little too lax, it was only a matter of time until they came knocking down doors again. 

your throat went dry, stomach cinching with anxiety once he stepped inside, the same soldier that had you saving up your rations week after week to be able to afford the pistol from joel. 

his eyes flickered between you and joel, scoffing to himself. “what’s this?” he asked you, ignoring joel who stood right in front of him. 

“nothing.” you answered, intimidation and fear already prickling at your skin and racing down your spine. 

joel stood in front of you, shielding you away from him, and slowly, the fear lifted itself itself away from you, but not fully. not while he’s still here. 

“aren’t there usually two of you who do these searches?” joel questioned, watching as the solider jabbed at various things of joel’s with the tip of his rifle. 

“partners out sick. so y’all get the pleasure of havin just me.” he flashed an ugly grin at you, bending to the side to see your uncomfortable face behind joel’s back. 

he walked around, haphazardly lifting and tossing things about. 

“oh?” he bent down, squatting by joel’s bed. “what’s this?” he waved around a baggy full of white powder. joel stiffened, his nostrils flaring in anger. 

“that’s not mine and you know it.” and surprisingly it actually wasn’t. 

joel had just sold the last of his pills to a sad sap unable to sleep without them, and that was a month ago. the asshole was planting drugs on him. 

“this is not only grounds for confiscation but imprisonment. tough spot you’re in miller.” joel exhaled angrily from a quiet ragged breath. 

“unless,” he came up to you, pushing past joel to cup your chin. “she wants to, convince me why i shouldn’t take you down for this contraband.” you flinched from his touch but it only made him hold on tighter. 

joel snatched his wrist away, stepping back in front of you. “you don’t have to involve her. what do you want? rations, half of my next haul? what?” he gritted and the solider just laughed. 

“you think i don’t have easy access to all that? i want something you can’t easily trade for.” he leaned to the side, waving at you. 

joel pushed him backward, triggering the response of a rifle being shoved in his face. joel didn’t so much as waver, grabbing the neck of the firearm, pointing it away from him while his foot came and rammed down onto the front of his shin, successfully knocking him down with a loud wail of pain. 

it happened so fast all you could do was sit and watch, frozen in place as joel lost himself on top of the solider, pounding and pounding and pounding his fists in relentlessly, not stopping despite the ache trickling over across his knuckles. 

you heard a sick squelch followed by cracking noises and you knew that should’ve made you fear joel. it should’ve made you run out the door and never look back. but it did the opposite. you never wanted to stay more. 

you watched with wide pupils as he rose up from the beaten and bloodied solider, breathing hard and loud, stumbling upward to a leant stance, staring at the lifeless solider on his wood floors. 

he wiped his nose with the clean, unbloodied slate of his forearm, before dropping it back to his side to lean forward and spit over the body. 

he turned back to you, scanning your face for any hurt, fear or disgust. 

but there was none. 

before you could say anything, he spoke aloud his thoughts. “i gotta get rid of the body.” 

“do you need help?” you extended a hand willing to assist and joel shook his head a hard no. “you saw enough, you don’t need to see more. i’ll be back.” 

you stood up, pressing a hand to his chest, looking at him with watery eyes. he wanted to wipe them away from you, but he couldn’t. not with the blood that was already starting to cake under his nails. 

“joel i want to help.” you admitted, soft voice trembling and joel leaned forward, his face close to yours. “you should probably go sweetheart, you don’t need to get wrapped up further in this.” his words traveled along the coast of a gentle but solid whisper. 

“i don’t want to go.” your voice barely carrying itself loud enough as a reply, eyes following joel’s actions of walking away from you to roll up the soldier in a thin fraying carpet. 

“you should.” is all he said, walking out the door with a body dragging behind him. 

—

you went against any logical thought process whatsoever and stayed. you decided you’d make yourself useful, feeling as though the events that continually replayed in your head felt like your fault. 

you sat on your knees, scrubbing at the blood that had already set in the floors. 

you scrubbed until it hurt, and you kept going despite the fact. you dunked the scrubber into the bucket of soapy water turned brown, squeezing the excess onto the floor before rubbing it in. 

the door clicked open and your head whipped towards it, heart leaping in your chest once you saw joel stumble in. 

“hi.” you breathed and he looked at you with surprise. he saw the work you busied yourself with, locking the door before making his way to you. “what’re you doin’?” he asked gently, yet again in shock at how unabashedly kind you were to him. 

“didn’t want the blood just sitting here on your floors. ‘least i could do since it’s my fault that all happened.” you sniffled, feeling guilty at what had transpired. though the guilt was there, a sense of gratitude was even larger. 

he did that, for you. 

he bent down to catch your watery gaze. “no, no that was not your fault. just got a little carried away. ‘don’t want you thinkin’ that you had anything to do with my choices, okay?” he leaned to the side, catching your eyes that were avoiding his. “okay?” he repeated, waiting for you to say it back to him. 

“okay.” you mouthed just below a whisper. he took the bucket and the scrubber, walking to the sink. you of course, trailed behind him. 

he lifted his sleeves, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dried blood on his hands. 

he picked at under his nails, scraping the blood off wherever he saw it. which was, every inch of his hands. 

his body faced back to you, his now cleaned hands picking up yours, seeing specks of blood and dirt splattered on your hands from cleaning his floor. 

he washed you clean, and all you could do was admire him. how gentle he was taking care of you. he rinsed your skin clear of blood, drying you up and letting your hands rest back to your sides. 

“i’m sorry you had to see that.” he apologized, feeling ashamed of how little he was in control of his anger in that moment. 

you shook your head, hands shakily resting on his chest. “no, i don’t want you to be sorry.” you murmured, eyes landing on his lips. you swallowed back any fears that held you back from showing your affections any longer. 

you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. with a pleasant surprise, he kissed back, no hesitation in his actions. his hold fell to your waist, squeezing, pulling you into him. 

he took in your air, and you gave it to him, happily, willing to offer it in all its abundance. your hand rose to his cheek, palm resting over his beard. his thumb rested on your chin, rubbing it softly. 

he forced himself to pull away, his hands selfishly unable to remove themselves from your waist. “sweetheart this isn’t a good idea. you’re too young, and i’m not a good man. i think i just showed you that.” he tried to warn you, hushed and gently, with honest intentions of keeping you away from something you’d regret being involved with. 

but the only thing you’d regret is never being with him. 

“i’m not, and i don’t care what you do joel, i want you, all of you, want you so bad,” you all but whimpered, trying to press yourself against him more. 

he was a greedy man at heart, pulling you back up for a harder kiss. there was a hot hunger that was electric between you two, a burning ignition that pulled you two in, tying an in separable twine amidst your bodies. but neither of you ever had any intentions of undoing it anyways. 

he held the side of your cheek, the other traveling from your lower back to your ass, squeezing it hard, using his grip to pull you in closer, grinding up against you right there. 

you were so needy for him that it rattled your bones. a wet clicking noise elicited from your mouths, tongues brushing up together messily. your chin dribbling with saliva. 

you moaned in his mouth, feeling the hand that was on your cheek move to hold you by the back of your head, his tilting to kiss you deeper. 

he untangled your lips, keeping himself not even an inch away, just to share the breath between you two. your tongue flicked over his lips, biting down on the bottom one before lurching forward for him once more. 

he groaned in your mouth, lifting his hand to come down and spank your ass. you whined, back arching and crotch brushing up against his. 

you two stumbled towards his bed, your back falling into the mattress. he crawled on top of you, ridding himself of his boots and you of yours. 

his knee rested on one side of your hip, the other coming between your thighs. your chest rose up into his, your back lifting off the sheets and hands coming up to paw at his chest. 

without any reservations, you rubbed against his knee, struggling to kiss him back. “feel good little girl?” he sounded gruff, strained voice trying it’s best to not moan at the way your wet little cunt managed to create a wet spot on his knee. 

“so good joel,” you gaped, kissing his neck desperately. 

“shouldn’t be touchin’ you like this, sweet little thing like you gettin handled by someone like me,” he breathed through a series of heavy pants, his hands wandering all along your sides, your hips, your thighs. 

“don’t want anyone else but you.” you whimpered truthfully, holding his wrist and guiding his hand to your chest, right above your heart. you let it drift to the left, shuddering when he squeezed your breast. 

he kissed your pulse, teeth baring out against it. he rested his hand on your lower belly, rubbing the skin under your tank top. “can i touch you?” he whispered, his beard tickling the space just below your ear. 

you nodded, running your hands all along his strong back. “please,” you bucked your hips upward, begging with not only your words but your body. 

he exhaled out a quiet chuckle, fingers working to undo your jeans, tugging them down until they were forgotten on the floor. 

he dipped down beneath your underwear, his cock throbbing in his boxers at how wet you were. so soaked it was pathetic. he hadn’t let his hand drift down to the sweet place between those thighs of yours til then, and yet you were as wet as if he had his tongue pressed up against you. 

actually, that’s not a bad idea.

he circled around your clit, watching as you revealed in it, his fingers being thicker than yours, making the sensation all the more intense. 

“joel,” you repeated his name, voice wavering in breathy gasps, his fingers rolling the sensitive button of yours. he slipped a finger inside you, eyes peering up and watching as your back rose just a little, hips pressuring downward and further onto his finger, taking him all in. 

“so soft,” he murmured, lowering himself to press a kiss to your hip. he rolled his hips into the mattress, trying ease the pressure building up beneath his jeans. 

he was too turned on, this young pretty girl he’s had his eye on for a year was sprawled in his bed, soft and soaked cunt all ready and pliable just for him and him alone. 

he could die a happy man. 

his lips encircled your clit, tongue drawing around it while he pressed into a familiar spongy spot within you. 

you sucked in a sharp gasp, the sweet sound turning into a high pitched whine. “please,” you sobbed, hands flying down to keep his head in place. 

he fucked you with his fingers, curling right up against the spot that was making you dizzy, his tongue and lips working perfectly on your little clit. 

tears flowed down your face and on his pillow, your hand coming up to your mouth trying to lessen the volume of your cries. 

“j-joel, please i,” unable to formulate any sentences, you just gave up, giving in to your moans. 

the way you squeezed around his fingers, sucking him with greed and need, made him wonder how that’d feel around his cock when he’d get to finally shove it in you. 

he growled at the thought, sucking hard around your clit. you whimpered, pushing down onto his tongue more. 

“s’too much, i cant, i,” your head rolled around his pillow, his scent, his touch, his tongue suffocating you in the most heavenly way possible. 

you squirmed in his hold, unable to escape his grip, unable to escape the way his tongue pressed flat and hard up on your clit. his beard brushed up against your thighs, pulling a giggly moan from you. 

“perfect little pussy,” he grunted, kissing your clit before dragging his tongue slowly, up and down languidly. 

he rested his forearm over your lower tummy, pressing hard and feeling the corner of his lips perk at the way you gasped, shuddering loudly and trembling in his mouth at the action. 

“joel, i think i’m—ooh,” you spoke tearfully, poor little throat already getting hoarse from crying out his name. 

“feels good huh baby,” that little twang in his deep voice curled off his words just right. all you could do was whimper a shaky sogood joel s’good. 

his finger pressed up against that spot inside you, his tongue on your clit being the sweetest cherry on top of the tooth rotting sundae. 

you were cumming, hiccuping his name unashamedly. your plush thighs coming around to cage him in, to which he paid no mind to, if anything it excited him, his rough hands gripping your ass and pulling you deeper into his mouth. 

the wind up deep inside you finally released, flickering flashes of burning hot lights spread across your limbs, slowly fizzling out as you went limp in his bed. 

he didn’t let up however, his tongue grown addicted to the way your perfect clit felt on the wet muscle. 

you whimpered, struggling to push him away from your cunt. it was just too good and he hadn’t had enough yet. 

“joel n-no more s’too much,” you pleaded weakly, and he took slight pity, pressing one last kiss before rising back up to you. 

he pressed his fingers to your lips, groaning quietly with approval at the way you took them in with no verbal orders needed. 

you were so good for him, his sweet little girl. 

he pulled them out, resting on your plump bottom lip before moving it out the way to kiss you. you moaned deeply into his mouth, bringing your arms around him, hands traveling up to his hair. 

his salt and peppered hair felt soft, weaved through your gentle fingers. you lightly tugged on it, feeling mischief in your veins at the ministration. he growled, biting down on your lip and laughing as you yelped. 

he held your jaw, pressing hard kisses all along your face, speaking stilly, his inflection so deep, so masculine, so old and wise, had you hypnotized, his words that were reserved for your ears only, were something you’d cradle to yourself forever. 

“told myself i wouldn’t crack, i wouldn’t have you like this, you’re too young, you don’t know what you want, but fuck,” he dragged his fingers up your folds, chuckling to himself at the way you whimpered, curling into his touch immediately. 

“now that i got you, ‘fraid i can’t let you go sweetheart. i’m a selfish man at heart.” he admitted, kissing your jaw. you just about exploded in that moment. you had no idea he felt the same for you as you did him, and it was the most powerful, enlightening feeling you’ve ever felt. 

“i’m selfish too,” you whispered back, puckering your lips to kiss him. “didn’t let anyone else touch me but you. just wanted you,” you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, unaware to how that little admission made the precum collecting at his tip leak out even more. 

his grasp on your hip tightened, squeezing it as he buried his face in your neck. “fuck baby, gonna give this old man a heart attack sayin’ things like that.” 

your shaky hands went for his belt, tugging on it with need. “want you joel, please?” you begged, lips pressed to his ear. he didn’t need to be begged any more, he undid his belt with one hand, pulling it off his waist, letting it join the pile of your discarded jeans and boots. 

before he could take himself out, your hands found themselves under his flannel, desperate and anxious to see what he’s been concealing away from you. “off, please,” and he wanted to say no, feeling not as proud in his physique as he once was about 20 years ago. 

“nothin special to see baby,” he countered and you shook your head. “it’s you. it’s special to me.” you suspired airily, already feeling your tummy get tight at the thought of him hovering above you, shirtless. 

he took in a deep breath, letting you unbutton his flannel. 

you undid each button, trying your best to not rip them clean off despite your rushing efforts. you slid it off his body, exhaling in awe at the sight in front of you. 

you sucked on your bottom lip, hands traveling across his broad shoulders, fingers tracing his collarbones, dragging around the scarred areas from past wounds, admiring the few freckles on his chest that trail up to his shoulders. 

he watched you, never having felt so admired before. “enjoyin’ yourself baby?” he teased, his thumb rubbing over your chin. 

“mhm,” you nodded, not caring how it looked to be gawking at him. 

you could feel the muscle from the layer of life and age over his stomach, your eyes then falling to the bulge of his biceps, instantly growing obsessed, squeezing at the muscles. 

“you’re so beautiful joel.” you spoke with such true sincerity and he tittered quietly, shaking his head. “thank you baby,” 

your wandering hands finally fell to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper, eager to see what else he’d been keeping away from you. 

he let you, more than ready to feel your touch in the place he craved the most. he was tired of having to fuck his calloused fist, trying hard to pretend it was your cute hand touching him. 

you pulled him out, feeling your jaw go slack at the length of it all. “jesus joel,” you swallowed hard, steadily jerking him off, feeling slightly unsure if you’re doing it right. you were telling the truth, when you said you’d never let anyone touch you, too hopelessly in love with joel to even imagine allowing anyone to see you in the way he’s got you. 

he grunted, unintentionally bucking his hips into the tunnel of your hand. he was thick, heavy in your clutch, veins running along the side of it, his tip round and fat, almost red with droplets of precum leaking out. 

“gonna show you what those little boys could never give you,” he promised, and you believed him, gazing at the way he reluctantly pulled away from your hold, knowing if he let you stroke him any longer he’d cum all over your hand. 

he circled your clit with the head of his cock, shuddering a semblance of a breathy moan at the sensation. “gonna be a bit of a stretch baby, tell me if it’s too much okay? i’ll try to go slow.” he kissed his promises of gentleness into your temple. 

he inched in, hands around either side of your head, foreheads pushed together while your mouth fell open, sucking in all the air in the room. the stretch was very unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed.

you held onto his shoulders for support, grasping onto them tightly, pretty plump trembling lips crying out moans that would replay in joel’s head on lonely nights. you felt fuller than you ever have before joel was even fully inside you. 

he was nudging up against spots in you that you had no idea could feel so good, and if he angled his hips any higher, the fat head of his cock would be kissing your cervix. 

“can barely fit myself in ya’ baby,” he groaned, head falling from your forehead to bury itself in your neck, kissing your hot skin to try to calm him down before he lost control and rammed himself inside you. 

your calves rested on his hips, whimpering while trying to lift yourself up in an attempt to get him to push himself further in. 

“more joel, please?” your pleas were accompanied by sponged kisses just below his ear. “gonna take it all for me baby?” he questioned you, inching in just that much deeper, and you shut your eyes, nails already beginning to crescent themselves in his back. “mhm, gonna take it all,” you swore, more than eager to have him fully within you, as close as could be. 

he jutted his hips in, knocking the wind out of you. you bit down on his shoulder, whining a drool filled mess with the way he started to fuck you, rough hardened hands molding softly around the curves of your waist. 

he was bathing in the way your little cunt took him in, squeezing around him so good just like he knew you would. he took his time, rocking into you in and out, holding your shaking body close to him. 

you could feel every ridge and vein in you, hooked onto the way he filled you up, stretching you beyond belief, making you bounce upward with every movement. 

his hands slid down over the smooth skin of your thighs, widening them further open before pushing them up, growing impatient, achingly hungry to be deeper in you. you struggled for air at his fast actions, eyes immediately rolling back at the way he began to fuck into you. 

“can’t help myself, m’sorry baby, pussy’s too good, shit,” a gruff sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the way you took him in. you didn’t care, you were thrilled to take whatever he gave you, and however hard he saw fit. 

“feels s’good, feel so full,” you cried, translucent tears free falling, the aggressive pistons of his hips causing your swollen clit to ache, begging to be touched. 

“feel me right here huh baby?” he rubbed over the bulge in your tummy and you squealed, wriggling away from the overwhelming stimulation. “ha,” you strung out, arching up into him. 

“yeah, you do,” he taunted breathlessly, loving how you were a wreck beneath him. “in so deep joel,” you mumbled against his shoulder and he kissed your hair, nodding knowingly. “i know babygirl but you’re takin me so well,” he praised, feeling so proud of his sweet girl taking his cock like a pro. 

“never gonna let anyone see you like this?” he pressed deep there, corners of his lips curling when you weep, squeezing at his biceps. “never gonna let anyone have you like this?” you shook your head, sobbing a string of no joel no, never, just you.

“perfect, tight fuckin’ cunt is all for me, aint sharin’ with no one,” he held you by the back of your thighs even further, stressing how serious he was, set on fucking himself into your soaked hole until there was a permanent shape of him within you. a shape no man could ever fit into. 

sobs of uncontrollable pleasure were the only thing you could feel in your veins, pumping your blood full of dopamine. his balls tightened, hitting the fullness of your ass, and he let himself grow sporadic, let himself take you. his fingers found your desperate clit, chuckling to himself when you croon tearfully, thanking him pathetically for touching you. 

“can i cum, please?” your requests only made him twitch inside you, his sweet girl was so polite. “go ahead baby, let it out,” he leaned down to kiss you, swallowing up your moans and cries. 

your body jerked under him, the tight vice of your cunt gripping onto him while he rubbed over your clit, pulling out the second wave of an orgasm from you. 

you broke apart from his lips, still just a breadth of a gasp away from them, brushing up against the ghost of a kiss as you pressed your forehead to his, sobbing his name while your body trembled from how hard you were cumming.  

“shit,” he slammed a hand against the wall above your head, shoving himself impossibly further in you, your legs shaking on either side of him. “good fuckin’ girl, squeezing me so goddamn good,” he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading over your breasts, groping at them and pinching at your pebbling nipples. 

you fell limp, letting yourself drown in the unraveling lengths of your climax. 

“gonna cum baby, where d’you want it?” he asked, feeling his lower stomach start to tighten up. “inside, wanna feel all of you,” you whined, kissing all along his shoulder and collarbones, messy and ravenous. 

his face fell to the crook of your neck, biting down on your soft flesh when he came, impaling you once, twice, ending it with one last hard thrust as he came in you, pumping you full of his cum. 

he didn't feel himself soften inside you, but with each of the passing minutes he decided he’d better pull out then or else he’d never leave. you winced from the removal, arms coming around to hold him with a clinginess.

he collapsed on top of you, and you sighed contently, the full weight of him resting on you could’ve honestly sent you into the deepest nap you’d ever have.  

you felt his cock, still hardened on your thigh. with sleepy eyes you looked up at him, lips on his stubbly jaw when you spoke. "you're still hard," you murmured. his fingers drew up and down your spine, and you shivered, arching yourself into him.

"that's okay, it'll go down soon." his throat got tight when he felt you wrap your hand around him once more. "we don't...have to ignore it." you trailed off, bitten lips pressing delicate kisses laced with ulterior motives into his tanned skin.

you wanted joel to use you as many times as he wanted to, a new compulsion flowing rampantly in your veins. now that you had finally gotten a taste of joel, you wanted to gorge yourself on him.

"you sure you can take it?" he asked through a hushed breath of arousal. you nodded, kissing at his lips with need.

he didn't need to be told twice, he repositioned you, letting you fall back onto his pillow with him hovering above you. he rolled you onto your stomach, holding you by your hip to lift you just enough for him to shove his flannel right against your cunt.

his rough palms encased your ass, groping at the thick flesh. he dipped down, spreading your ass and watching as his cum poured out of you. he groaned quietly to himself. you whimpered, turning to look over your shoulder as joel pushed his fingers inside, shoving his cum back into you. your chin dropped, face falling back into his pillow when he pumped his fingers inside you, chuckling darkly to himself at the way your ass squirmed against him.

every little swivel your hips made was met with friction from his flannel on your clit. the hem of it just so happened to be pressed right there. he slapped his cock over on your ass, exhaling loudly at the way it jiggled from his actions.

he aligned himself once more with your little hole, pushing himself in with ease due to the slick left from a mixture of his cum and yours. you whined, hands flying backward, desperate for any solace from his hands in yours. he held your wrists at the small of your back with one hand, the other supporting his weight to lean forward when he pushed himself all the way inside you. you cried out, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra, your legs trembling beneath him.

he was in you so much deeper this way, stretching you out more than you thought he already could. his hips snapped up against your  ass, fully within you and hitting every single tingly spot inside you along the way.

you were already out of breath, your lungs and brain vacant of anything except for him, for joel. "feel you in my tummy," you hiccuped, tilting your head to look at him through teary eyes. he breathed out a lazy, cocky laugh, moving forward to kiss your forehead, unintentionally shoving his cock in even deeper, feeling a sense of pride at the way you gasped and whimpered at the deep intrusion.

"i know huh baby?" he chuckled in your ear, and you shivered, feeling your face grow warm from how flustered he made you feel. he was so dirty, any filters he once had were gone, the tight grip your cunt had on his cock made him downright ruthless.

he pressed his hands at your lower back, letting yours fall free to cling onto his sheets. he held you down that way, fucking into you with a newfound source of energy, his grey hairs falling over his forehead, sweat glistening over the ripples of muscles along his biceps and abdomen, his whole being going into pounding himself into you.

he wanted you to be so full of him that everyone would know it just by looking at you. the possessiveness he tried to suppress for so long had come out, and he wasn't sure if he could go back to hiding it again. but that wasn't on his mind, not when you were clenching around him, sobbing his name loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

his grunting fell to your ears, it was near pornographic, including the way you bounced with each and every thrust of his, just watching it made his chest get tight.

he needed you closer.

he pulled you back up from under your arms, keeping you flush against his chest while he continued fucking you. you were growing limp, body worn out from the rigor he put you through. but he held onto you, keeping you in his arms. his arm went under your tits, a sneaky hand coming up and groping at one, pinching at the nipple.

he buried his face in your neck, filling your ear with the low growl of his groans. "such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this, but i think you like it, and you know what else?," he drew in a heavy breath, "i think you like being fucked like a little ragdoll," you couldn't answer, he was right, but you could hardly focus on any words, his cock rendering you a teary eyed moaning mess.

"can't even respond when spoken to," he slowed the roll of his hips, hitting you in deep and slow, letting you hear him instead of the loud wet rhythm of your cunt being fucked into. "that's okay, i'll still take care of you," he chuckled, returning back to his rough pace.

"so good, make me feel so good joel," you managed to finally cry out in a series of strewn moans. his fingers trailed themselves down to your clit, rubbing in tight little circles. " i know baby, cum for me, show me how good i make you feel."

you wriggled around in his hold, your third orgasm of the night was thick in heft, a heavy wave of intense stimulation clearing your vision and leaving a white glittering hue instead. you felt joel everywhere, from the way he was buried in your cunt, to the way his hips were clasped over the curve of your ass, fitting into you like a puzzle piece.

the fervent circles being drawn over your clit was the thing that pushed you over, your head falling backward onto his shoulder, his turn to be serenaded by a string of your pretty moans. "good babygirl, did so good for me." he cooed in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it. "thank you," you meekly replied in a breathless voice.

you were the weakest you've ever felt, your poor spent body still being held upright as joel chased down his own orgasm. "gonna let me cum in you again baby? want more of it?" he panted in your ears. "please, want it joel, please,"

he gripped onto your hips, feeling his own stutter, before he pushed in deeply, stilling inside as he came in thick ropes. he finally softened, slowly pulling out of you. you winced again at the loss, feeling suddenly cold and empty. you collapsed on his bed, reaching out for him.

he laid beside you, pulling your leg up and over his waist, running a hand up the expanse of your thigh. your eyes fell shut tiredly, enjoying the comfortable sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

a part of you was worried he was going to break the silence, afraid he'd call the whole thing a mistake, and lecture you on how he isn't the type of man who does relationships. you knew all of that, you just hoped he wouldn't say it and just let you soak in the moment.

almost nervously, his hand came to dance across your cheekbone softly, wanting to memorize the way your skin felt to his. "do you regret that?" he murmured and you opened your eyes, shocked at the question.

you leaned into his hand, curling your own over his. "no, never joel, why would you ask that?"

he sighed, scooting closer to you. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart, i'm giving you a chance to leave." he spoke above an octave of silence. you frowned, shaking your head. "i don't care about anything that you've done in the past or what you'll do in the future. i just...want to be here, with you, in any way you'll let me." you admitted, wishing you could say the one thing you've been harboring for a year, but you knew you needed to keep that to yourself just a little longer.

"if i had a bigger conscious i wouldn't let you," his hands pulled you into the hold of his arm that came over your waist. "lucky for me then that you're not the good man you claim to be." you whispered, the scent of coffee on your breath enveloping his senses, and in that moment, he had a realization.

he thought about how nice, how domestic it would be to wake up and share a cup of coffee with you every morning, before you had to face the day, at least you could share a moment of peace together.

"yeah," a trace of a smile grew over his lips. "you're right. i'm not." he rolled on top of you, cupping your cheeks in his large palms. "you're makin' an unwise choice little girl," a quiet rumble rested on your lips.

your arms came around his shoulders and you sighed a half laugh. "i know. i don't care."

[innocentsandsofdreams]

John Price x Reader Head Canons

Tags: soft Price, Price x Reader, reader is not gender specified, slight birth description, reader is higher rank than 141

Word Count: 826

Any ageless or minor blogs DNI

SFW

Honestly, how you and John got together was comical. Laswell had to call you in for help (against everyone's choice) and you came.

During the mission, you and Price was a squad and no one (not even the both of you) knew what happened

An explosion was set off and you and John were sent flying; you landed on each other and rolled down a hill and you eventually stopped. You're on top of Price laying on him, inches from his face. How movie cliche is that?

John remarks "You know, the least you could do is ask a man to dinner before laying on 'im"

"Well how about after this mission, you pick a restaurant and I'll pay", you say playfully.

John actually took you up on your offer -against everyone's groans of "cheap cliche".

Now 10 years later; having been married for five years, people start asking "Oh have you thought about starting a family?"

Well, both of you thought of it. Both of you didn't know how to bring it up. Finally, it came to a boiling point

On a date in a park, you and Price laid on a blanket in the grass

Just listening to the laughter of parents with their children, surrounding the both of you

Both of you blurt out, "Do you want to have kids with me?"

A moment passed and you both laugh. Elated both of you want the same thing.

Interested, John suggests you both go home and start trying

NSFW

He's an old school gentleman; walks you home and cooks you, dinner. Price just overall set the mood- what a standup guy™

Afterwards Price led you to the bedroom. He takes his time with you. After this, he tries to take his time, but it doesn't work out that way

Mans eats you out like a munch if you will. Live and die in between your legs like a three-course meal. Price swallow your juices like it was a desert oasis

John slowly fingers you, not wanting to stop eating you out yet

It takes you 2 orgasms and a lot of begging for him to come around and fuck you. finally

Putting multiple pillows under you; John puts your legs on his shoulders and starts driving his cock into you with a goal in mind

After relentlessly abusing your soppy hole, Price fills you with his cum and he is so horny happy just from the thought of it

Multiple trysts of deep fuckings and quickies, having been fucked one last morning before the sun came up; your efforts came to fruition

PREGNANCY

John has you go to a med bay and do at home pregnancy tests religiously until finally one of the at home tests came back positive. He was so thrilled, that to make sure, you guys got medically checked out and the tests do not lie my dearheart; you are with child

John supports you through everything with the pregnancy; the sickness, the fainting spells, the cravings, the emotions. He's just happy to be with you

All though he never judges (or at least tries not to) he really does side eye the ice cream and pickle juice

[inserts meme of the girl staring at the man's chest with big side eyes]

That being said, Price went through it all with you. For you

John loves you and his baby so much, if he could stop the world he would

Near the end of your pregnancy gets very distressed and never lets you do anything. He's on everything like a HAWK

Being so close to your due date, you thought the baby would be late; but no, you were so wrong

Your water broke a week early, in the early morning

It's 3AM and John thought you might have wet the bed. In all honesty you did too.

Then the contractions started and both of you realized it was the amniotic fluid

Price having over prepared the hospital bag, (since you guys were first expecting) took you to the closest hospital

You are screaming and squeezing the hell out of Price's hand (poor hand) as he's driving

Upon arrival John miraculously carried you inside and got you a room before even thinking of moving the car and grabbing the bag

After being situated John goes and grabs everything and then goes and park the car. Upon return, the man got everything you ever needed and more

Need to move around? Man is getting you up. Need ice chips? Already in hand

Eventually choosing the process of water birth, John got in with you, behind you of course so he can take care of you

Hours go by and finally the baby arrives in this world

Having you hold the baby for only a moment, John let the nurses take the baby and helps you out the tub

He helped you get dressed and helped with getting into bed before bringing the baby to you

Having held his baby, he can't help but crawl in bed with you and hold the baby between the two of you

(he's definitely not crying - lying)

Man is in for a treat ✨😌

[lynn-tged-posting]

so i've been working through the tged webnovel (really, really slowly) (but im getting there!) (it's been REALLY fun i love their banter so so much i wish there was more of it in the webtoon)

and i keep thinking back to chapter 43, where lloyd is surveying the wetlands and arcos comes with him

i don't really have much new insight, i just think about their interaction in this chapter a lot, especially since it's one that doesn't show up in the webtoon adaptation

arcos going out of his way to spend time with his son, and making him a lunch that he knows his son loved, all as an unspoken apology

because "how could he", right? how could a father hate his son and only start to love him again when success has been found? that's so haunting to realize; that someone you loved so much, someone you raised and nurtured, someone you knew the favorite foods of and why, could become someone you hate. and then, the son you once raised, the son who became a stranger, went and grew up without you.

did i give up too soon? did i abandon my own son? ... what kind of father does that? ... right?

and so he does what he can to offer repentance. he takes time out of his day to engage with what his son is doing. he shows that he still remembers his son, the boy who would rather eat boiled eggs and tomatoes over any other dish. he offers it all in a basket, carrying the love he feels he should've given to lloyd a long, long time ago.

... and it's not even the original lloyd frontera who receives it.

we don't get to know what suho is thinking in this moment, but i think his silence speaks volumes.

... because "how could he", right? how could this fraud in another man's body accept this silent apology that isn't truly owed to him? this man, this baron, this father, is asking for forgiveness when he had every right to be angry with the original owner of this body. and he doesn't even realize, because how would he possibly know his original fate? only you do.

this wasn't meant for me ... right?

but suho doesn't reject him, either. he doesn't interrupt arcos, he doesn't leave. they sit together and eat boiled eggs with honeyed tomatoes in silence.

it makes me wonder what suho is thinking about, what he's feeling, what he's remembering...

because (and call me crazy, call me speculative) heaven knows the love language of an asian parent.

here's some cut fruit. here's your favorite snack. here's dinner. i've brought it here to you.

you're working so, so hard. i'll support you, i'll be here. don't worry about anything else, just keep growing.

i love you, i love you, i love you, attached to every plate.

"this was your favorite food when you were young. ... i should have given you as many boiled eggs and tomatoes as you wanted."

and again, it's a little bit of speculation from me, but i think that's why suho doesn't say no, why he lets arcos make this apology. it's a piece of what he misses most.

and so they both leave a little bit healed. "the basket was lighter on the way home. and albeit very slightly, their steps became lighter as well." it might not have been between the right souls, but it's a weight lifted nonetheless.

... all this to say that i am absolutely MOURNING that this didn't make it into the adaptation!!!

i understand that with comic adaptations, there are going to be some cuts to ensure pacing and workload stays reasonable, but this would've been absolutely devastatingly emotional (/pos) to witness visually,

because what would lloyd's (suho's) face look like? what expression would he make, can we visually see how he feels? and arcos, what does he see when he looks at his son? fatherly love and solemn regret, painted all over his face, what does that look like to the adapter? to the artist? to us?

and in general too, we lost the characterization and relationship of arcos to suho; i really, really wish it made it in :(

end post

[attyslittlespace]

TAKE CARE OF YOU (SAM X LITTLE! READER)

WORD COUNT: 813

Authors Note: This is my first time writing! I made it for fun so sorry if it isn't perfect 😖

Warning(s): Sam cusses like once lol

It was friday, and even though it was only 2nd period, the day had been extremely stressful. First, you didn’t hear your alarm go off, so you had less than 10 minutes to get ready and leave. Then, you spilled water on your shirt on the way to 1st period, and by the time you cleaned up yourself and the floor, the bell had rang and you were late. Finally, by the time you got to class, you realized there was a test, a test you didn’t study for. So here you are in 2nd period: Stressed, tired, annoyed, and upset. Fortunately though, your friend Sam was in that class to cheer you up. As usual, he wasn’t doing any work, just leaned back in his chair and reading a new comic he bought at Frog’s Comic Shop.

“You know, I’d allow you to borrow any of my comics if you were ever interested in reading them.” Sam looks at you, smiling and closing his comic book to pay attention to you. “Mhm..” You reply, mustering up a smile and a slight nod. You weren’t really in the mood for conversation. You were nervous. In the privacy of your home, you usually regressed to combat stress, and it was always voluntary. So when you felt yourself slipping, you were confused and nervous. You had never regressed involuntarily before, and what made it worse was that it was in front of Sam. What would he think? Would he make fun of you? These thoughts were running around your mind when you finally hear a familiar voice snap you out of it. “Hey… is everything ok?” Sam speaks up, tilting his head that has a concerned expression on it. He rests his hand on your back and leans in a little closer. “Just… stressful day… n… noth…” You try to speak, but everytime you do your voice starts slipping into your little voice. You try to stop it but your brain does it anyway. You regressed. He giggles at you. “Are you regressing?” He asks, his contaigious smile flashing his teeth at you. Your eyes grow wide. He knows what age regression is? He tells by your facial expression that you are and laughs. “I do that shit all the time!” He admits. You just look at him im awe, some because of his response, some because toddler brain. He grabs your hand and holds it. “Hey… you can regress in front of me… its okay.” He tells you, his voice gentle.

The bell rings and it’s now free period. “Do you have anywhere to go?” Sam asks, picking up his stuff and throwing his backpack on. “Nuh uh.” You reply, also picking up your stuff. “Then you should hang out with me, I’ll take care of you.” He takes your hand and leads you out of the classroom. He takes you out to the courtyard and you both sit under a tree. It’s spring in Santa Carla, so it’s very bright and sunny outside. Sam reaches in his bag and pulls out a pink marker. He always had different stationary stuff in his bag to doodle with in class instead of pay attention. “Gimmie your arm cutie.” He uses a petname on you and you cant help but smile and giggle at him. You give him your arm and he starts to draw on it. He draws hearts, stars, and, of course, the superman symbol. You watch him, kicking your legs and mindlessly chewing on your thumb. You quietly babble and giggle to yourself, to nothing and everything at all. Sam stops and looks up at you, giggling with you. “How old are you silly?” He asks, taking the thumb out of your mouth. “Uhhh…” You reply, smiling and shrugging your shoulders. He giggles are your response. “Well you're definitely too little to be at such a grown up school!” He teases, making you just giggle more. “Someone got attacked by the giggle monster today didn’t they?” he coos at you. ”Nuh uh!!” You protest, but your uncontrollable giggling just proves his point. He goes back to drawing on your arm until you slowly unregress. It’s about 5 minutes until next period.

“Hey, sam… thank you…” You tell him. He stops drawing on you and looks up, realizing you aren’t regressed anymore. “Of course! I would want someone else to do the same if I regressed at school!” He replies, smiling and putting up the marker, your arm now covered in drawings. “So… you regress?” You ask. “Yeah, for fun, but I’ve never accidentally regressed like you just did.” You both stand up and gather your things. “Well, if you ever did I’d take care of you.” You smile at him, hearing the bell ring.

“Thank you, cutie.”

[kens-ramblings]

okay so for background i work in first responder land, not as a first responder but my job deals with them on a regular basis. so basically here is my opinion on what kinda of first responder each of the batfam would be with little to no explanation :D

Alfred- maybe retired EMS? i know he does medical stuff with the bats so it just makes sense to me

Bruce- he’s a cop. idk what else to say he’s just such a cop and you can take that however you’d like🤨😐

Dick- 911 operator. i think he canonically was one at some point(please correct me if im wrong tho i am very slowly getting through comics) and its also one of the ones that just makes sense to me. like he wants to help but he does not want to do it on the same way B does and has always been good with people. so i feel like he’d probably enjoy it

Jason- maybe this is controversial but i’d say firefighter. like yes he died due to smoke inhalation but i also feel like he’d want to work through that trauma(bc bats can’t just go to therapy like normal people nooooo) by helping others to yk,,, not die in fires?? also it’s just another one of the ones idk how else to explain it the vibes are just there yk

Tim- I think he’d work in emergency management somewhere. like yes they are not exactly first responders and his character is a front lines guy, but we’ve also seen that he is a PLANNER. emergency management’s whole job is planning for what to do when things go to shit. plus they still go on scene as needed so he wouldn’t have to deal with JUST being a guy in a chair

Babs- i originally wasn’t gonna do her because i don’t really know her character all that well. but,,,, as i was writing tim’s i was like “oh this is also probably babs a bit ecspecially after her accident. like she was probably some sort of first responder,,, maybe cop to follow in her dads footsteps?? but also maybe not? like i said not exactly one of the characters know best,,,, but anyways after no longer being able to help on the front lines she joins gothams emergency management agency because they also help coordinate when big things happen so it makes sense to me

steph- another one i’m not super sure i know her characterization all that well outside of fandom, but im giving it my best go. i feel like she went into EMS. she spent some time with leslie and in a lot of normal capes aus i’ve read it seems like she’s always a med student so it makes sense to me

Cass- i’m actually kinda stumped on her. like realistically she could do any of the jobs she wanted because yk she’s highly skilled in damn near everything. like idk i just can’t picture her as anything other than kick ass vigilante. but if i had to choose,,,, maybe 911 operator, she could help with other languages and dispatchers really run this shit from the shadows. so final answer dispatcher i guess? but i feel like it is kinda a waste of her fighting talents but yk it is what it is

duke- he is another one i’m not 1000% on characterization, i don’t think he’s been in any of the comics i’ve read other than wayne family adventures. but anyways, my gut instinct was cop, but like in the way that he’s trying to change the system from the inside out. but then actually the whole gang thing came to mind and duke is def an ACAB kinda guy. like couldn’t stand to wear the uniform probs, so im actually gonna go with fire fighter. i also can’t really explain this one it’s just what my heart says.

Dami- he’s another one i think is a cop, but he is because he wants to be like Bruce. he starts out doing basically whatever B says but he eventually finds his own way. honestly i feel like after a stint he quits and joins like an EMS service for animals(i actually do not know if that’s a thing, but it is now) bc i think he would genuinely enjoy that and still feel like he’s helping yk?

[lucabyte]

ppl saying they look to my comics for inspiration and pointers on how to format things is WILDDDD to me (and delightful don't get me wrong!! i am overjoyed) because like. none of you are privvy to the absolute WAHHH I DONT WANNNAAA bitchfits i was *CONSISTANTLY* throwing every time i forced myself to make a comic before i got into isat. like no joke. i considered comics such a fucking difficult medium they always drained my drawing energy so hard because they always felt like they took sooo long and had so many moving parts and were so much harder than storyboards (WHICH I ALREADY STRUGGLED WITH) because you had to account for panel shape and speech bubbles and-- like you get it. but genuinely for real. the sheer amount that i complained whenever i clawed my way through drawing a comic (which thus! was not very fucking much!!) compounded by the fact that i *genuinely have trouble reading comics*. as in, i really struggle to parse the flow of contiguous movement or action between panels (possibly connected to the fact ive got mad aphantasia?) of even really well done best-of-the-best professional comics...

... BUT. basically. what im trying to get at is. if you wanna learn to draw comics, evidently you super can?! I genuinely *didnt* draw comics before drawing isat fanart! I have no idea what it was about ISAT fanart that made it finally click for me? (I think it was... not having to think about colour? Removing a step from the process really helped. Plus, it being fanwork meant I could just start en-medias-res and not have to think about setup... Trying to cram too much explanation and setup into my oc stuff was always a big hurdle too...)

I find them fast to do now! and damn if i dont value speed in art (<- impatient little fucker). its still going slowly on my oc comics.. mostly due to the colour again, i think. but it's not extremely, ecruciatingly difficult anymore. is what im saying. and im genuinely baffled by it every time i put pen to page. its fucked up. did you guys know that practice makes things easier? . fucking perverted if you ask me.

As for looking at other people's things for inspiration. if you want to know where I was looking when I was piecing together the first couple fancomics I did for ISAT i want to specifically point at . well besides everything rebecca sugar has ever done (for hands and facial expressions *especially*), the main person i really dug into the work of was Leo Fox (Website link). I feel like i wanna point people to the source of a lot of the inspiration for my more off-kilter panel choices so you all can get the full experience rather than through my regurgitated mimesis. I'm now at the point where i can wing panel layout so i wasn't in there for longgg but. everyone go add it to your knowledge banks as for SUBJECT MATTER aka why i am i so deranged. those are squarely the 2019 postcanon homestuck golden era bleeding through my CLENCHED BITTEN DOWN JAW. A BULL TERRIER ON YOUR BRACHIAL ARTERY. namely that @/floralmarsupial and @/tomatograter's works (no i am not tagging them . im shy) are things i go back to frequently and floralmarsupials pure black/white inktober comics were *especially* an inspiration. if you've been following me a few months you may remember me reblogging a bunch of their stuff from 2019~2021 for seemingly no reason. this was why. The narratively divorced reality of jade strider & Liminal Space are big in my mind here. I balk to call myself anywhere near as good as these but these are what i'm aiming for, tonally and quality-ways with it. also detective pony but ive mentioned that already and thats farrrr too inside baseball for this post.

BUT YEAH TL;DR: I DIDNT DRAW LIKE ANY COMICS UNTIL UHHHH LIKE, WHAT, LIKE 8 MONTHS AGO? JESUS. ANYWAY. THIS MEANS YOU 🫵🫵🫵 CAN DO IT TOO. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF. DATTEBAYO!!!!

[ganondoodle]

Not gonna lie, the "It looks like a Divine Circle but is actually just hundreds of years of superstition & propaganda"-Concept is the coolest fucking thing I didn't know I needed until ten minutes ago. It's a super cool inversion of the classic trope, opens up a million possibilities for stories and arcs and on top of that, in game, you would obviously not know about it form the beginning but slowly have to collect clues and hints that things are not quite as everyone tells you.

So yeah, very cool concept!

Not directly related, but it's probably no surprise that my favorite Ganondorf line is the "I coveted that Wind"-line from the finale of Wind Waker. He doesn't even go into detail, cause he doesn't have to, this line alone instantly humanizes him. Like, its the end of the game, we are about to fight him, there is no way this will not end in a fight, and yet, at that point, that line, just goes so fucking hard. Because you instantly know what he's talking about, that he simply wanted a future for his people, which, you know, is a very human thing to do. It wont stop us from fighting him here and now, way too much has happened for that, but it reminds us, the audience, that he has motives and reasons and thoughts and is an actual character.

So yeah, in case it's not obvious yet, I too despise the extremely flat "I'm evil because evil, waaaaaaaaagh!" Ganondorf from TOTK. Why even include him if you cant be arsed to actually write him?

Anyways, last thing, I'll have to somewhat disagree on the Gameplay vs Story thing, at least partially because I work in the field and have had experiences with this problem myself. Not saying its impossible to have both, but its a lot more difficult than one would expect.

Towards your point, yes a good story can pull people through a game, but so can strong gameplay. Take the Doom games, I dont really care about their story, but the gameplay is great. On the other hand, the gameplay of the average Telltale game would be incredibly boring without the story behind it. There are hybrids, but even they tend to lean one way or the other: The Assassins Creed or Uncharted Series have solid and fun gameplay, but would probably get repetitive or boring if we didn't have strong characters and stories that keep us interested. And all of that is before you consider that there are different player types that gravitate to one or the other and it gets even more complicated. (There's more to this but I my thoughts on the topic could easily be a full bachelors Thesis, so I'll stop here.)

I should add that I dont think that the gameplay over story (or vice versa) argument can or should be used to defend games or design choices. Yes, Nintendo does prefer to focus on Gameplay over Story. Does that mean we shouldn't expect a good story, or are not allowed to criticize a bad one in their games? Hell no! (And if my previous ask sounded like I was doing that, I apologize, that was NOT what I meant to say! I'll happily critique all of TOTKs flaws, both in gameplay & story, otherwise how can we learn from it?)

This argument can be used to understand and analyze or interpret design decisions but it shouldn't ever be used to defend them. Just like the "just for kids" argument, by using such arguments, the person in question basically admits that they are aware of the weaknesses and faults in their story/game/whatever but didn't fix or improve them. So yeah, I do agree with you on that front 100%, hiding behind such arguments is a problem.

Anyway, sorry for leaving another wall of text in your inbox, hope you're having a nice day!

thank you! that 'cycle' concept is also what destiny (zelda comic) is based on, since it takes place before skyward sword you get to see the set up for it, and, in this story, the gods have been trying to achieve it countless times, throughout the story of it its supposed to slowly be revealed- like demise already knowing some parts since hes yet another 'failed' version of that plan (im reusing that concept for the totk rewrite as well bc i am very original wahoo)

oh you work in that field! thats cool!! yeah my opinion on this sort of thing is very much a thing i formed bc i play games, though i still dream of gamedev, i guess i understood your mention of it a little too much into the dismissive argument way (though not as an attack) and its been repeated so so many times i cant help but get a little >_> at it; the point i was trying to make was more like ... they need to find a balance with it, like you can make it all about gameplay, but then dont pretend you have the most epicest story that ever storied, maybe even do it less or more subtle, like the fromsoft game i feel like are very well balanced in that regard, bc their lore and story is very neat and intertwined, but you have to look and think to get it, and the gameplay is strong on its own so much so that it kinda ends up being both soemthing for people that dont care about lore and those that do, more than about the gameplay

zelda feels like it doesnt quite know what to do (even moreso modern zelda), bc they prioritize the gameplay but then still put in a story that they want understood .. so its like, babiefied? like there is a "simple" story and its few points are repeated into your face over and over and over so the people that dont care to read into soemthing GET IT but also annoy them, bc they dont care anyway, and the people who care about lore/story above gameplay are bored bc the narrative isnt engaging enough and they dont care as much about the gameplay

especially so with totk i think, its so weird, botw wasnt like that imo, it wasnt overly complicated either but at least it left you wondering, and let you think, the more you thought about the more interesting it was (at least to me) totk feels like the opposite, it doesnt want you to think, bc the more you think about it the more it falls apart and makes less sense

like theres types of games that focus HARD on one or the other (like slay the princess for example, its like an interactive audio book, there isnt much gameplay but it goes hard on narrative), so obviously the balance of gameplay and story isnt applicable to every game, but for zelda in particular they say they are one but then still want the other part just as much? like the lore in skyward sword isnt great, the characters are strong though, the gameplay isnt that engaging (to me, since that needs to be said) i got through it mostly just bc i wanted to see what comes next and liked the characters, in botw the freedom and world and gameplay were like nothign i ever experienced, exploring was addictive and the story took a bit of a backseat, but it was fitting for the game and lend itself so well to theorize, in totk they .. idk what the focus was, the .. glue? the toys to glue together? nothing fits together there and each part works against another instead of together, somehow, its so weird to me

the thing is, if you do gameplay over story, you need to roll with it? if thats what it is then let the story take a backseat, make it subtle and in the background or vague, dont stuff the game full of unskippable cutscenes where a character you dont care about explains you a thing you already figured out through the gameplay; like the zelda dragon point, let the design of the dragon and its music, what its carrying speak for itself, the way the deku tree is weirded out by the sword moving, maybe a quick subtle voice line once you get the sword fading away like the last parts of her soul being whispered away- but dont mention it in one of the first cutscenes, fail to bury it in 'thats illegal though and irreversible so nono dont you do it' (why mention it then huh) allude to it multiple times, and then just straight up show it (i get people like the scene but man, it would have been way cooler to figure it out yourself)

same goes for the fake zelda thing, the weird way she said the bloodmoon text already alluded to it, have her show up here and there but vanish before you (no "omg thats zelda omg what is she dooooing") , or go even harder and make her an NPC standing around the world interacting with you all nromally but animals react weirldy to her- make the midfight against her (maybe even that she isnt talking so you are unsure if its actually her but controlled by sth else, or talk all normally while literally going for your throat) and then have her dissolve into goop and woa the bloodmoon thing is without her now the zelda you have been talking to has been fake the whole time, its creepy!! leave out the stupid cutscenes of showing it multiple times!! stop monologing at me!!

ppl that dont care about it can go and do a fight and i can think about it! everyone wins yahoo!

(actually ... if you leave out all the cutscenes in totk i feel like it improves the game by alot ...)

(what my point in the previous thing was in the end that you can repeat the same old trope only so many times without changing anything before it gets boring as hell, like what you said here, and the series seems to really be setting itself on fire bc it just wants to do the trope of old so badly and at some point its gonna drag down even the best of gameplays like gameplay over story means (to me) gameplay is prioritized so whatever narrative there is is in the background, subtle and not overtly in your face with big cutscenes etc- but what i feel like its often supposed to mean is "its fine if theres a shitty story that makes no sense pasted on top bc they prioritize gameplay so stop complaining" like to me what it should mean is more gameplay, less story, a measure of quantity not of quality, but what i feel like it often means is better gameplay, bad story, a measure of quality, not quantity )

maybe my problem lies elsewhere and im just projecting it on gameplay > story, that could very much be the case, i could have a fundamental missunderstanding about this here, im still just a guy with opinions in the end and got no knowledge about anything other than i play games sometimes and these are the things i like and dislike and would do differently *puts my head in my hands*

idk if im making sense, im usually not very good at explaining how i feel or think :/ (or i THINK im bad at it, autism be damned)

(sorry this got so long again ......................)

[luvsaluv]

random post!!

"Fuck, she's going to kill me." Miguel thinks, slowly entering through the window of his apartment. You two had arranged a romantic dinner at home, since well... lately you hardly have time to spend together. However, Miguel was late. Again. The kitchen table was already set, with candles and a bouquet of flowers.

The food perfectly placed in a bowl with a lid, probably his girlfriend knew he was going to be late. "Damn it...she had made my favorite food." Miguel thinks aloud.

“miguel?”

The masked boy stops in place and listens carefully. "Oh...crap..." He murmurs. He slowly takes his mask off, his face in a mix of relief, annoyance and shame. "Hi, honey..." Miguel's eyes go to the floor, not meeting your look. "It's...hard to explain..." He clears his throat. "I got caught up with...work." The excuse came out from Miguel's mouth in a single breath.

"You're lying. You've been late every day for a month...." The tone in your voice is serious and firm.

“whats the real reason.”

"I...I guess you deserve the truth." Miguel stops walking. He turns around and looks directly at you. "I...I have a double life." He takes a deep breath. "I'm...Spider-Man. And I've been trying to balance your relationship with my alter-ego, and well...I'm really sorry, but you suffer the consequences of it."

“is this where you dress up for… what is it called….. comics con!?”

"I..." Miguel's jaw drops and he stares at you in disbelief. He's obviously speechless. "Is this a joke? Tell me you're joking. Tell me I'm being trolled right now." Miguel's voice starts to get a bit louder. "You...You really don't know? Who Spider-Man is?"

“nuh uh…? if its a dangerous job then be safe..!”

Miguel is completely dumbfounded. How could you not know who Spider-Man is? "Well, you're right there. It is a dangerous job. But I'm doing it to keep you safe and other innocent people. That's what heroes do. We protect those who can't defend themselves." He smiles slightly, his heart warmed by the thought of you being safe.

“alright…. im hoping in the shower… if you wanna join..”

"A-Alright." Miguel blinks. He didn't expect that answer. He can't help but smile, his voice a little low from embarrassment. "I-I'll... I'll take a shower too..."

“miggy… why are you so nervous? we’ve taken showers together many times? Qué tiene de malo?”

"No...is not that. It's just... You're so...beautiful! And being here with you is...it feels like a dream." Miguel blushes, a nervous smile on his face. "You make me very...very nervous, honey..."

“we’ve been together for 5 years bebe… and i still make you nervous?”

"Of course you do! I love you so much! You have no idea how lucky I am to have you every day of my life." He smiles softly as he takes your hand, leading you to the bathroom. "I'm still amazed every day by how beautiful you are, how strong and smart you are...how lucky I am that we met each other."

[goosewriting]

Congratulations on 500 subs! 🎉🎉 I hope you keep reaching bigger milestones!!

Pink 45! Reader gets back to the lair drunk after a party and donnie ends up taking care of them. Through readers drunken mind, they think back to all the moments they have had with donnie and their heart flutters and ends up saying "I think im falling in love with you" and of course donnie responds with "I think im okay with that" :3

I hope I did this correctly!

Drunk on your love (rottmnt Donnie x reader)

prompt 45: “I think I’m falling in love with you.” “I think I’m okay with that.”

summary: reader gets back to the lair drunk and ends up confessing to Donnie

relationship: Rise!Donnie x GN reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk reader, characters are aged up to drinking age!

word count: ~910

A/N: had a lil, much needed burst of inspo so here you go! hope you like it <3 this marks the end of the 500 subs event :'D thank you all so much for partictpating! ♥ (also donnie is wearing a t-shirt in this one because of reasons lol)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

It was well into the night and Donnie was in his lab as per usual when he heard distant steps walking into the lair. By the pattern and weight he concluded that it was you, although it sounded like you were dragging your feet, which was unusual for you. He looked up from his work for a second, tilting his head to pay attention to any more sounds coming from your direction. He was about to go back to his project when he heard some clattering and your curses echoing through the main room. 

With a slightly amused sigh the turtle got up and went to see what was going on, but his heart betrayed him. He tried looking cool on the surface, yet he couldn‘t deny that there was also a hint of concern in the haste of his steps. When he arrived to where you were, he took a moment to take in the sight: you looked pretty dishevelled but in a comical way, your hair was a mess, your clothes hung on your body not quite how they were supposed to, and there was the distinct smell of liquor surrounding you.

You had already taken off one shoe and were unsuccessfully trying to rid yourself of the other, but had evidently fallen over, hence the noise earlier. Now you were half leaning, half lying on the table in the main room, the objects that had previously been on it now scattered on the floor.

Once you more or less found your balance again, you finally noticed Donnie was already standing there, giving you a once-over with a light shake of his head. At the sight of him you couldn‘t hold back a giggle, and you looked up at him. Your eyes were glossed over and unfocused, and a silly grin was plastered on your face. That‘s when he realised: you were drunk off your butt. 

“Oh wow“ is all he decided to comment about your state. Without another word he approached you and let you lean into his side as he helped you to the guest room in the lair. By now, it had essentially been claimed by you and everyone called it “your room”, given how often you had stayed the night at the lair.

“I take it you had fun” Donnie said, more as an observation rather than a question, shaking his head at the smell of booze. You really needed a shower, but that would have to wait until morning.

“Hmm~” you confirmed, your feet tripping over themselves, but Donnie’s firm grip kept you from falling face-first into the floor.

Somewhere in the haze of your mind, you recognised that this wasn’t the first time this was happening. You remembered a handful of other times where you had gotten back drunk, and Donnie had taken care of you. He always had. After all, he was a turtle of few words but of actions. And oh did his action speak.

As you slowly made your way to the room, it occurred to you that the only reason you allowed yourself to get this drunk in the first place was because you knew that there would be someone back home to take care of you.

Heh, home, you think, smiling up at the turtle pressed to your side.

Yeah, by now the lair felt like your home. Or rather, the people in the lair made it feel like home. 

Your eyes remained on Donnie, and you felt a new wave of warmth grow from your insides until it reached your already flushed cheeks, and it wasn’t the alcohol this time.

You had known the turtle brothers for so long now; when had been the first time you had felt this way? You couldn’t remember. You did remember however, that the moment you had seen him, deep within your heart you had known he was the one.

Once finally at the bed, Donnie helped you get your remaining shoe off as well as your jacket and other garments that would be uncomfortable to sleep in. He set you down softly to sit on the mattress and leaned back up, but you didn’t let go, fisting the fabric of his shirt at his chest to keep him eye-level with you.

He looked at you with confusion and slight concern, and sat on the edge of the bed, placing his hand over yours trying to loosen your grip.

Taking a deep breath, you thought about how the other reason you allowed yourself to get this drunk was because with every glass you drank at the bar, you hoped you would be brave enough to confess your feelings for Donnie once you got home to him. Looks like it finally worked, you thought contently to yourself as you climbed into the bed.

“Donnie” you said firmly but barely louder than a whisper, your gaze finding his in the blur that was the room. He merely hummed in response, waiting for you to continue.

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You hoped that even after the hangover (which was inevitably coming your way), you’d be able to remember the soft smile he gave you, the softest you had seen on him yet.

“I think I’m okay with that.” he responded just as softly, and your grin only grew wider.

Sleep was already taking over your senses, but you didn’t miss the gentle kiss to your temple as he tucked you in.

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [more info in my pinned post!] @hearteyedracoon, @maribatshipper, @whygz, @/lovelylovelydreams, @o0-starboy-0o, @xnorthstar3x, @yarabutterfly