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akanemnon · 1 year

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TWIN RUNES MASTERPOST

Because of the limited amount of links you can put into a post, you can find the links to each page in these sub-posts:

To be continued...

FAQ under the cut!

TWIN RUNES MINI COMICS

Glasses - Fallen down - First steps - Press [C] - Frisk Dance - But nobody came - Whatstheirface - An acquired taste - Eye opening - Smalltalk - Connection issues - Not-To-Do-List - All You Can Eat - Beach Episode - Salute the Frick - Morning Routine - The Universe is a Hologram - Normal Human Behavior

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TWIN RUNES - FAQ

What exactly is this AU about? Twin Runes is essentially a comedic crossover AU between the universes of Deltarune and Undertale. No fancy nicnacs. Just the characters being their chaotic selves. But there might be some darkness lurking up ahead... ____________________

When is the next comic? The comic updates most Sundays at 6:30 PM Central European Time. ____________________

Why is this AU called Twin Runes? The name is more or less a play on the typical naming format of most AU's by featuring the "Runes" part. There are no literal Twin Runes. The whole name is more of a stand in for Undertale and Deltarune as parallel worlds. Hence the "Twin" part. ____________________

When does Twin Runes take place? This AU takes place between a hypothetical Chapter 3 and Chapter 4 of Deltarune. On the Undertale side of things, it takes place post neutral route just as Frisk was about to deliver Undyne's letter to Alphys.

How many pages are there going to be? The script for this comic estimates that the comic is going to be 137 pages long (if I don't make any major changes). ____________________

Is the Player a thing in this AU? The Player(s) lost control over both human children as soon as Frisk entered the world of Deltarune. Essentially, the reader takes the role of the Player. You have no influence on the outcome of the story anymore. All you can do is watch. ____________________

Is there going to be a Weird Route? Due to the lack of Player, all choices made by Kris are now their own. How to engage in battle all depends on Kris, and not the Player. Because of that, there are NO DIFFERENT ROUTES. There is only one route and that one is based on Kris' choices. Because of the lack of save points, there is no "what-if" scenario. ____________________

When Chapter 3 and 4 are released, will it affect the story? Any chapters after Chapter 3 won't affect the story in the grand scheme of things. Twin Runes created a new timeline so to speak. ____________________

How old are the characters in this story? Frisk appears to be around 9 years old. Kris thinks they're 14. (Both Frisk and Kris don't know their actual age.) Chara died when they were around 10-11. Susie is around 15-16 (she was held back once) Ralsei appears to be the same age as Kris. ____________________

What's up with Kris' and Frisk's hair? The red bits of their hair is more or less a representation of their souls. That in turn is also why Chara doesn't have that feature. They are soulless. It's a stylistic choice. ____________________

What's that thing on Kris' chest? It's a scar they got from tearing out their soul.

And why do they have weird lines all over their body? Both Kris and Frisk's anatomy resemble that of ball-jointed dolls. They appear just as markings across their bodies. Think of them as elaborate birthmarks. Kris and Frisk are still made of flesh and blood, but are in fact hypermobile. The reason as to why they do is still a little secret :) People here like to refer to these markings as "puppet limbs". You can get a better look at them and the scar in this artwork

Why does Kris have braces? This is why:

Why is Dark World Frisk green? Frisk changes their main sweater colors with Kris when they enter the Dark World.

Can other ghosts see Chara? (pre Darkner transformation) No, only Frisk and Kris are able to see Chara. ____________________

IS KRIS NOW FRISK'S COUNTERPART OR CHARA'S???? :) ____________________

So, was Chara in the locket all along? No, Chara possessed the locket to become a Darkner. ____________________

Where are Jevil and Spamton? Are they in Castle Town? The Fun Gang have already fought these two in the previous chapters and added them into their inventory. Outside of that little dream sequence, neither will be making an appearance. ____________________

Is anyone from Undertale Yellow gonna make an apperance? Outside of a tiny cameo from Clover (that has no greater bearing on the story) no one from Undertale Yellow is going to make an appearance. ____________________

Is (insert character here) gonna go to the Dark World/underground? With the way the story is going to play out, only the main group will be heading to this new Dark World. The rest of the story will be taking place there. ____________________

How did you come up with the idea of Twin Runes? Twin Runes is an offshoot of a separate script I wrote. It's a similar concept but turned on its head. The funny moments in that script made me just continue what now is the start of Twin Runes. I pretty much just wanted to see if I am actually capable of drawing a comic to begin with. So... in a way Twin Runes is my first attempt at a comic ever. If I ever finish Twin Runes, then I know I can tackle turning that mammoth project of a script into a comic too. In the grand scheme of things these two projects are sister series. They have A LOT in common and even share similar plot elements. When Twin Runes is over you will automatically also know certain mysteries of The Other Script. ____________________

What is The Other Script? As of this moment I call The Other Script: "Lost in the In-Between". At its core it's an inverse of Twin Runes. I.e. Kris falling into the underground and being aided by Frisk on their quest to return home. The story and jokes are a considerably more grounded than in Twin Runes and so are the characters. Though they do have their moments from time to time. The overall mood of that script is a lot darker in nature and it's a 200+ page passion project of mine. ____________________

Am I allowed to make fanart? ABSOLUTELY! You are very welcome to make fanart if you feel like it. Please let me know if you do by tagging me, so I can share it with everyone to see so that you get the appreciation you deserve :) ____________________ Can I use the funny faces you draw for memes or for stuff like memes or for profile pictures? That's what they're here for :) ____________________

Is there x ship in this comic? The focus of the story is not on shipping. If it's in the game it will very likely be mentioned or brought up, but that's about it. ____________________

What pronouns do you go with for the human children? I try to stick as close as possible to the games so I use THEY/THEM FOR ALL OF THEM WITHOUT ANY EXCEPTIONS.

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ABOUT ASKS

Asks will open for 24 hours after a new comic has been released. Your questions will then be answered over the course of the week.

Try not to submit multiple asks. If necessary, just keep everything in one post.

Keep in mind that I receive AL LOT of asks, so not every question can be answered...

Questions containing spoilers will not be answered on principle. Wouldn't be as fun if the surprise was ruined, right?

Before leaving an ask (mostly for everyone who's new), please make sure to read the FAQ section above. A lot of times your question might have been answered already :>

I love memes and dumb jokes as much as the next guy, but try not to spam

It probably goes without saying, but please stay civil. I want to give everyone the respect they deserve, and naturally like to be treated the same way.

Please be mindful about drawing requests. It is understandable if you're eager to see a certain character drawn in my style, but I do not like to be bombarded by requests. The more it happens, the less likely I am to do it. Be kind and ask nicely.

I don't take unsolicited comic ideas.

Don't use other people's posts that I reblogged to ask me questions! It has happened before and I do not wish to see this!

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ABOUT SUBMISSIONS

The submission box is for FANART ONLY!

It is meant for those who do not want to submit their fanart to their own blogs, in case they feel scared or intimidated to do so.

ASKS AND REQUESTS THAT ARE SUBMITTED THIS WAY WILL NOT BE ANSWERED.

Please wait until the ask box opens. You can read more on how asks work in the section above.

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REFERENCE SHEETS

The following are ref sheets of characters that don't have established Dark World forms yet (as of writing this comic). The list will be updated as soon as a new character enters the Dark World. Here you will also find references of characters that might appear as surprise cameos, or maybe even completely new faces...

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FULL ART

#twin runes #twin runes masterpost #masterpost #deltarune comic #comic #deltarune au #crossover #undertale #my art #FAQ #frequently asked questions #important #please read #deltarune

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months

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It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ The Prequel ] || [ Chapter 2 ]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 1: Kyle

All of last night you and your friends spent time tinkering with your profile, putting up the sexiest pics of you that you had, some of them from Instagram, some from your camera roll, and filling in all the fields of info you could…

And then you started checking out the profiles, definitely judging and roasting the men that popped on your screen (blame the alcohol), but always swiping right, regardless of what you (or them) thought of the most recent man on the screen.

But, once they left, you turned off the notifications and alerts from the app and went to sleep. You had acquiesced to downloading the app and making a profile, but the last thing you wanted was to be on that app constantly and get bombarded with DMs and Likes/Super-Likes…

The next day came and went and, as you sat in your kitchen after work, unboxing your take-out boxes of dinner, your group chat pinged with a text from Leah.

leah: How's Tinder going? 👀

You bit your lip and sighed as you typed out a response:

you: haven’t touched it all day bc i was at work. leah: Better touch it then!!

Rolling your eyes, you set the phone down on the table again, and locked the screen, as you began stirring the noodles you bought with your chopsticks.

Mia joined not long after with her own opinion.

mia: ive got a good feeling about today! ur gonna find a hot bloke i know it 🫶 im sending good energyyyy!

“Yeah, right…” You grumbled. But, once again, you acquiesced and clicked on the little flame-shaped app icon.

The app lagged at first, for a good 5 seconds, and then a bunch of DMs and Like notifications pinged your phone.

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself… Oh, how predictable men are… They see a picture showing just a bit more skin and they try to chat the person up. But, at the same time, it made you feel quite good…

You skim through the DMs you’ve already gotten, over 99 of them… And none of them tickled your fancy. Plenty of them were variations of “Oi.”, “Hey.”, “Hi.”... Not to mention the ones that were just directly asking you to meet up right from the get-go.

Returning to the groupchat, you text your friends a screenshot of the 99+ counter on both the DMs and the Likes, which causes them to break into cheers at you.

leah: Look at you!!!! mia: i knew it. you: not into any of them tho. mia: then go back to swiping girl!

Biting back a little groan, you returned to Tinder and flicked onto the Swiping page.

Surprisingly, now that you were alone (and kind of doing it against your will), it was a lot easier for you to not get lost over-analyzing the profiles and simply… mindlessly moving your finger.

Right.

Ew, that’s a catfish of a famous male model, Report.

Right.

“Kyle.” You said softly as you read the name on your screen. He looked adorable, with a squinted ‘the-sun-is-in-my-eyes’ smile. “29… A soldier… a Brummie…” You mused as you slipped a Chinese roll past your lips and chewed.

You took a screenshot of his profile and sent it quickly to your friends’ groupchat before you returned to Tinder. As you clicked through his photo gallery, you saw the push notifications pinging at the top of the screen.

leah: HE’S STUNNING! 😫 mia: 👀👀👀👀👀 mia: smash.

Chuckling, you continue going through his pictures. “Holiday photo, holiday photo, I seriously hope those are his nephews or something, mandatory picture in uniform, and… JESUS CHRIST, a warning would’ve been NICE?!” You said to no one in particular as your jaw dropped open and you almost dropped your Chinese roll.

“Bloody hell… Is that sweat or baby oil?” You asked yourself as you looked at his slick, bare chest in the mirror selfie he uploaded. “And is he cupping his-” You stopped that train of thought before it could go too far from the station.

Clicking the arrow in the corner you finally brought his profile into full-screen and proceeded to find yourself chuckling at his bio.

His pictures were all wonderful, he looked like a guy who took care of himself, and he was funny which was the best part.

Taking a deep breath, you press the Green heart at the bottom. A squeal escapes your mouth when the phone screen suddenly changes to the darker ‘It’s a Match!’ screen with Kyle.

Your eyes widen in surprise and, just as you press the DM button, intent on coming up with something to message him, you notice it.

Kyle: bought some shoes from a drug dealer this morning. don’t know what he laced them with but I’ve been tripping over myself all day and now think ive finally fallen for you 👀

The cheesy pick-up line has you closing your eyes and exhaling through your nose. It’s starting off terribly… But he’s the first bloke you felt inclined to text… That has to mean something, doesn’t it?

you: you fell out of a helicopter… i dont think its the shoes. i’m starting to think ur just clumsy. Kyle: holy shit you’re not a bot! let’s goooo you: a bot? you really thought that? Kyle: when someone has posted pics as cute as yours you cant help but have that worry in the back of your mind 😅 Kyle: or that ur a catfish 🤷‍♂️ you: i promise you im neither. you: and thank you. you’re cute too. Kyle: thats exactly what a bot/catfish would say 🙄 you: well how would a human talk then?? Kyle: cant tell you bc then ur gonna machine learn and start doing it you: well then how else am i supposed to prove im not either?? Kyle: let me take you out. let me get a proper good look at you. you: was that all a ploy to invite me out?? 🫠 Kyle: first time on tinder? you: that obvious huh? Kyle: a little. Kyle: so is that a yes? you: I’ll think about it. Kyle: i can work with that. 🥴 Kyle: hmu whenever youd like. no pressure.

Maybe you would hit him up later… Once you gained enough courage to go through with the whole ‘rebound’ thing.

Biting your lip, you click off the DMs and return to the Swiping page…

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IF THE GIF DOESN'T WORK FOR YOU: CLICK HERE

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader

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whytheylosttheirminds · 5 months

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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)

Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?

Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.

Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!

(Prologue and Chapter 1)

You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.

“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”

“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”

You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”

“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”

You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”

In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.

You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”

Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.

Two Years Ago…

“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.

“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.

“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.

“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.

“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.

“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.

“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.

“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did.

You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go.

“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”

He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.

“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder.

The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.

“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.

“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”

You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat.

“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him.

Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him.

“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”

You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.

“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”

Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.

“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.

With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.

You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.

He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.

“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”

He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.

Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”

He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”

His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck.

“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”

“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck.

“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.

“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked.

“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”

With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts.

“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see.

You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.

“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.

“I love it,” You answered.

“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.

“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.

He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness.

“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was.

The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.

Now…

Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls.

“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath.

Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.

You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.

Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.

Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.

“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.

Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too.

A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”

“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.

“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”

“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her.

“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”

Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.

“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.

You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.

“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.

Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”

The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.

“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”

He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.

Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach.

You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.

You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.

“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.

“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.

“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.

“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.

“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”

“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.

“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”

It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.

“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”

There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.

“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes.

“What happened to you, Rafe?”

“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”

You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.

You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,

“I hate your hair.”

And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.

(chapter 3)

a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts

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blacktabbygames · 3 months

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Hello! I absolutely love Slay The Princess! I was wondering, were there any major inspirations that helped you create this game that you wouldn’t mind sharing? I’m always fascinated by the art that inspires the art I love so I’d be very curious and happy to hear what vibes helped you all piece together this wonderful game!

It's always tough to pin down inspirations. I think there's kind of three types: 1. Hard inspirations — things that you know are sources of inspiration at the start of a project. Or things that become known sources of inspiration partway through a project. These are sometimes, but not always technical.

2. Soft inspirations — these are more vibes based. Kind of like "what's going through my head on loop while working on a specific chapter." Almost never technical, and for me, this tends to be music more than anything else. (But maybe it's music *from* something specifically)

3. Loose inspirations — these are more along the lines of formative pieces of media. Stuff that seeps into your soul and directs your development as an artist or person, but not in a way where you can specifically tell what its impact is. Sometimes overlaps with #2 Anyways, some examples for each. Hard Inspirations:

• Disco Elysium — IMO hands down the best piece of interactive media ever made, and probably one of the most obvious influences on Slay the Princess. The concept of using internal voices to represent the player's thoughts helped us get around one of the biggest writing challenges in Slay the Princess — if the Princess changes based on your perspective, how do we codify what the player's thinking? The voices were a solution to interpret those choices in sensible ways and inform our players of how the game was reading their choices. Much better than breaking immersion and outright asking players what they tought. • Soma — we didn't play Soma until we were about half of the way through our work on Slay the Princess, but it was one of those games that felt so thematically on-point. I still think about this game most weeks. • The Stanley Parable — I like when narrators get frustrated at players for doing silly things. It helps when your narrator is British, too.

• Madoka — it's like 12 episodes long. Just watch it.

• Evangelion — Similar bucket to Soma. Didn't watch it until we were most of the way done, but boy does it have some similar vibes. Soft Inspirations/Music I've Kept On Loop While Working On the Game I won't tell you what music was looped for what routes. • Ceremonials (Florence + the Machine) — one of my all time favorite artists, and just a phenomenal album.

• Presumably Dead Arm (Sidney Gish) — super underrated. No Dogs Allowed is a great album.

• Haunted (Poe) — another banger album.

• Black Holes and Revelations (Muse)

I'll leave that third bucket unanswered lest this post become 50 pages long.

#slay the princess #florence and the machine #soma #disco elysium #madoka magika #idk i've done too many tags #i return to my labors

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casualhedonists · 10 months

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✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter two)

pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

chapter: 2/?

MASTERLIST

warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, some power play, oral sex, thigh riding, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)

i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.

a/n: first off, THANK YOU for the love on chapter 1. wasn’t sure how I’d fare since I’ve done a lot of writing in my life but little to no smut. with that said! longer chapter incoming. also I just know he’d give insane head okay i just do,the guy looks like he fucks and he definitely does

You weren't sure exactly how you slipped away from Snow’s room that night, but you could somewhat piece it together in flashes. First a head rush, then the fire in the pit of your stomach practically having gasoline thrown on it.

You remembered a quiet gasp escaping your lips, then panic, a flash of white, and suddenly you were stumbling away, head spinning as you tried to catch your breath, pacing unevenly down the hallway, any chance of a stealthy escape long thrown out the window.

Back in your room, once the door was bolted and your back was against it, making sure nobody could get in if they tried, you had your first shot at clear-headedness since you’d heard heels scuffing the hardwood.

You’d soaked your panties through and were dripping down your thighs, but you’d be damned if you could get into the headspace to take care of it. Panic flooded your veins, ice-hot as you tried to catch your breath. you slid down the door and sat there, legs numb against the cold wooden planks.

Who was she? A million questions filled your head all at once. Was she from the Capitol? Could she be one of Snow’s friends, one of your friends? The thought made you sick. What if you’d dined with her before? Talked to her? How long had this been happening? Who knew about it? Were you being played?

Had he seen you watching him?

Unable to help yourself, your one-track mind took you back to the way he’d groaned your name, though you were half sure that had been a fever dream of some kind. Still, you kept replaying it. Over and over, like a broken record.

It didn’t make any sense, you were so fucking confused. All this time you’d been hoping he would make a move, you’d practically begged him to. Why hadn’t he? When you were clearly on his mind, and yet he made you believe he didn’t think of you that way at all. Was he just respecting your agreement?

You fiddled with the lace on the hem of your slip as you mulled it over. You stayed sat like this for almost an hour, trying unsuccessfully to wrap your head around it. When you ended up right back where you started, and you were sure enough time had passed that if someone was coming to get you, they would’ve already, you finally stood up. Your caution led you to drag a chair from across the room, propping it up by the door to jam the handle. That left you with the sliver of peace of mind you required to shower off this cold sweat you’d formed.

The next morning, you dreaded breakfast. But you knew you had to face him, as well as the fact that this could very well be your last meal. You should at least try to eat well.

You made your way downstairs, a few minutes later than usual, enough for Coriolanus to already be sipping coffee, a few pages through his newspaper. You’d not got fully dressed yet, not wanting the contrast to be too obvious, but you’d wrapped a silk dressing gown around you so you were a little more covered up. You knew one thing for certain, you wouldn’t be trying any more of your tricks until you knew just what you were dealing with.

He didn’t look over at you, which you took as a good sign. The urge to hide from him, from what you’d seen and what you now knew, overwhelmed you. You didn’t say a word, and picked silently at your breakfast, but despite your best efforts, not managing to keep more than a few bites down.

“You’re quiet today.” He muttered, and you started.

“Um.”

He lowered his paper.

“Something wrong?”

How about everything?

“Oh, no, I’m okay. Just uh…” you glanced up at him, and met his sharp gaze. Fuck. You’d hoped you’d go unnoticed. You felt like a deer in headlights, like he could read your mind.

“Well?” He prompted, gaze unwavering. You blinked.

“Headache.” You managed to breathe, faking a small, pitiful smile.

He brought his paper back up in front of him, crisply turning the page. You both thanked the new barrier between you for cutting off his stare, and resented it as you looked at the tiny printed words you couldn’t make out from where you were sitting.

“I’ll have Lucille bring you up something.”

“Thank you.” you said quickly, almost too quickly, and you feared he might lower his paper again to watch you as you stumbled over another excuse. But you fell lucky this time.

The week seemed to pass in a blur, Monday’s gala being one of the only times you really left your room when Snow was around, other than meal times, which you spent in a similar state as that first breakfast. You cursed yourself for throwing out your longer dresses, and settled for the least suggestive of them, the white one you’d been thinking of pitching to Snow as a backup plan in your panicked state outside his bedroom. That all felt worlds away now. What you’d seen had shifted the tides, marking a solid, definitive line in your head between the before and after.

The gala went as well as it could given the circumstances. You danced, Snow was charming to you in front of the guests, but held your gaze no longer than usual. It was simultaneously terrifying and thrilling to feel his hands on your waist, knowing what you knew. It felt like you’d been tapped with a cattle prod and had to hide it every time his hand brushed yours on top of the dinner table, as unsuspecting guests smiled at you, the happy couple.

If only they knew that in the same breath, you were scanning the crowd, wondering who the blonde could’ve been, how close she was to Snow, if at all, and hating the way every touch he placed on your hands and waist served as a reminder that he’d been touching her instead of you.

Your stupid brain had formed a highlight reel of what you’d witnessed behind Snow’s door, and it tortured you with every passing moment. To know he was thinking of you. To think that maybe, he wanted you there instead. It put a strange sense of possessive pride into you, that weaved between your jealousy. Because yes, you’d seen another girl on her knees with her mouth around him, but you hadn’t heard any name other than your own while it happened.

You carried this strange hope, dwindling to start off, and then building each day that you were left un-hanged and very much alive, slowly chipping away at your fear of the worst. And yet, you knew the game, unbeknownst to Snow, had been fundamentally changed. You’d stopped your antics altogether, now barely meeting his eye as you passed each other in the hallway, covering up more at breakfast, and only talking just enough to avoid another interrogation. Avoiding touch, and conversation, and all-around keeping yourself away from him.

You were quieter still at night in your room. After a few days, you’d finally felt safe enough to move the chair away and sleep with the door locked as you normally would. But while your games had stopped, your want for him had only been amplified. Fuelled by jealousy and frustration, you had to bite down on your hand so that not even the slightest noise made its way out as you pictured him, not as you used to in your fantasies, but as you’d seen him that night, undone with your name on his lips. It was much easier, in your head, to picture yourself as the one on your knees. Any other fantasy just failed to make the cut now you’d seen the real thing.

Thursday rolled around and you’d made a new habit of pacing the downstairs library when Coriolanus was out of the house. That way, if he got home and stepped inside, you could pretend to be lost in a book. But the hours seemed to stretch out and you became bored, and with no Snow in sight, you decided to head down to the servants’ quarters.

This wasn’t a common occurrence, but it wasn’t unheard of. You were known for your gentleness among the house staff, less harsh than Snow, but firm nonetheless. It had led you to a respectful friendliness with the maids and servants, and once every so often you’d check in on them.

Today’s objectives, however, were purely self-motivated. You found Lucille, who dressed you, at the kitchen table, chopping vegetables.

She stood upon seeing you, and curtseyed (Snow was rather old fashioned that way). You nodded, then took a seat at the foot of the table.

“Do you need any help with that?” You glanced at the cutting board.

Lucille’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ma’am.”

You laughed. Lucille chopped and diced, and you asked questions. At first, they were after her family, her brother was sick and despite your offers, she wouldn’t accept help. So instead you listened, and slowly but surely, your questions got a little more directed toward the object of your interest.

You were good at playing the long game, so you started by asking about the company he kept. What she thought of them, with the promise that it would stay between the two of you, cross your heart.

She wouldn’t say much but she knew a little more than you; Snow kept very similar company as you did, and rarely went out for social visits. Any trips were strictly work-related, and when you eased into the topic of his past, Lucille mentioned, in very polite terms, that he had left a small trail of women heartbroken after a short period of time. That not all of them had been pleasant, and that she was pleased you seemed to have a positive effect on him.

She knew about your arrangement, practically the whole staff did, but they were kept on a very tight leash and were thoroughly reminded to not say a word acknowledging it, not even to you. It was with a knowing glance that Lucille told you she was happy you’d stayed around.

You smiled. Knowing that was likely all you were going to get for now, you let her be. By then, it was late enough to have gone dark, and you headed up to bed.

You awoke to creaking outside your door, and the shadow of footsteps from underneath it. You’d been tossing and turning for the last - you checked your watch - two hours. Excellent. You rolled onto your back wondering who it was, and then you heard it again. At first you wondered if it was just a sleep-deprived hallucination, or a sense of deja-vu, but then you focused, and there it was. The sound of heels. Again.

You sat up in bed, pushing your hair out of your face. You were enraged the first time, but if this was becoming a Thursday night tradition, it would be a serious problem. You were tired, you reasoned, you could just try to go back to sleep. Ignore it. Not let him have this power over you, a power that he didn’t even know he had. All the more reason to ignore it, and make it tomorrow’s problem.

But you just couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie, no matter how hard you tried. Your mother used to say it was a problem, always sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But it had got you this far, hadn't it?

You knew you were going to follow her to Snow’s room again, it was just a matter of time. You had to at least pretend you had an ounce of self-control, whereas really your head was thrumming and you knew it would take getting hit by a high-speed train to send you back to sleep now.

So you held off. Five minutes passed. Then ten. You had to know, at least, what they were doing. Maybe you could get a look at her face, see who it was, and answer some of the questions you had.

So you went. With a purpose this time, knowing full well what and who you’d end up seeing, trying to take steady breaths and focus on your plan. Check who it was, then leave.

You’d never been that great at execution. Call it hedonism, call it a morbid fascination, or living vicariously, but when you walked up to the door - which was ajar again, strangely even more than last time, by at least an inch or two - you looked inside, and your feet planted. The last shred of your self-control allowed you to take in the room first, the desk and chair that was right within your sight, and as you tucked yourself into the room, half hidden behind the door, you finally looked back at the bed where you’d seen Snow with his blonde girl last time.

Neither of them were sitting now.

Thirty seconds ago, you would’ve believed the hottest thing you’d ever seen was what played out in this room last week. But that was before you saw Snow turned away from you, still fully dressed with his sleeves rolled up, stomach on the bed and face between the blonde’s thighs, eating her out like he was on death row and she was his last meal.

You’d gotten head before. You knew it felt good, but the boys you’d slept with before your arrangement with Snow were selfish and inattentive. They would try, but they were far more interested in getting their dicks wet than showing you a good time. But Snow - you’d never seen anything like it. You didn’t know it could feel that good, or at least, not as good as the blonde girl - who you noted in the back of your mind, wasn’t anyone you recognised - was making it look. Her hips were bucking so hard he was having to pin her down with both hands around her waist.

She was just moving so much, wriggling and crying out and gasping and - you didn’t think you’d ever truly known jealousy until that moment. You couldn’t look away, knees weak and hands shaking, letting yourself get sucked into this headspace again, losing all trace of rationality. You’d think she was playing it up for him, but you knew what that sounded like. You’d faked enough orgasms to know if she was, but this? This was real. As she got close, grinding into him, writhing, running a shaky hand through his hair then getting louder, you managed to snap out of your trance.

In a flash, you ran back down the hallway.

If you thought you were avoiding Snow before, this week was about to give you a run for your money. You took breakfast in your room, and kept only to the parts of the house you knew he never entered. You only touched yourself in the shower, silent cries washed away by the water and steam, paranoia backing you into a corner.

You feigned illness the one time Snow sent a maid to inquire after you. Nothing too major, but enough to put him off. When he left the house, you snuck into the library to smuggle books back to your room, a pile forming as you tried ceaselessly to distract yourself.

You wrote home, you studied art and history. You attempted a few terrible sketches. You tore apart your room, then put it back together.

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around again. On longer days like this, when Snow had been away working for hours at a time, you’d doubled down on your efforts to get information, and after chipping away for just long enough, you finally managed to squeeze some tidbits out of Lucille. Namely that there was a certain gentleman’s club in the city that he used to frequent before his election as President. Snow’s old driver might know its name, she said.

“But that was long before he met you, ma’am, rest assured.” She added hurriedly.

“Of course. Thank you, Lucille. I think I’ve kept you for long enough. Goodnight.”

Snow had been gone for the whole day, and you weren’t sure if he’d come home yet, so as you headed up to your room, you quietly wandered a little further down the hallway, to check if there was any light beneath his door. There wasn’t. Good. You were glad he wouldn’t be continuing this routine of his. Maybe this Thursday night, you could sleep peacefully.

With a sigh, and mulling over what you’d learned today, you returned to your room, poured a drink, then collapsed into bed.

This night was as sleepless as the rest, and you’d been drifting - not uncomfortably - in and out. A storm was brewing outside, and the sounds of howling wind began to keep you alert. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, then glanced towards your door. Snow must’ve come home at some point, and very late at that, because dim lights had been turned on in the hallway. Paranoia crept into your mind, slowly poisoning your thoughts and turning you inside out.

It didn’t take long before the feeling pushed you to roll out of bed, slide on a dressing gown, and crack open your door. This time, you couldn’t hear footsteps, or anything that might arise suspicion. You closed the door again. Waited. Then looked around your room, at the messy sheets and the half finished glass of liquor on the nightstand. You rarely drank alone, but these past few weeks had been getting to you, fucking with your head. Coriolanus Snow had driven you to this.

The wind got louder, and you knew you were too wired to sleep, so you stood by your window and finished the glass.

You’d never been good with mysteries. You wanted to know everything, all the time. Know who had power over you, know precisely how to take it away. Know exactly what was happening around you at any given moment. But most of all, you didn’t like being played for a fool.

And sure, the ethics of it had never been discussed between the two of you. Your business was strictly professional, but when you weren’t allowed to sleep around, why could he?

In fact, how dare he?

You poured another glass, straight whiskey. Downed it, pacing your room, back and forth between the door and the window, running your fingers along the ridges of the crystal glass. You thought about him, comfortably in his room, not a care in the world.

How dare he.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the buildup of your situation that had your blood boiling, but it didn’t matter. You were incensed. His behaviour was an insult to your name, to your family’s name. Sure, this relationship was a sham, but all the more reason for him to act with basic fucking respect. Sleeping with - and very obviously, at that - a whore, who had a bad habit of leaving the door cracked open, was unacceptable.

You were running hot, and if you knew one thing for certain, it was that when Snow met with fire, he was going to melt. You’d make sure of it.

Your feet took you into the hallway, with the decidedness that this would be the last time.

You rushed down the corridor with a tightly bottled rage that was about to burst, words hot on your tongue and demanding to be spoken, until you turned the corner and saw Snow’s door half open. You stopped in your tracks. Reassessed, then stepped closer, slowly, steadily. Remembering what you were there for.

Then, as you got close enough to see inside - right there, without you even having to step past the threshold, were the two of them, lit by a table lamp, Snow sat on the desk chair as the girl rode him to high heaven, obscene noises getting louder. As you approached you saw Snow’s face again, eyes shut, breath laboured, and you couldn’t believe that anyone just walking by would be able to see this. They were fucking like animals, out in the open. You didn’t know how or why you drew closer still, closing in on them. The girl’s head was dropped down to his shoulder, back facing you, and couldn’t see you unless she turned, but Snow? He was practically facing the door, almost as if he’d been…

No. It couldn’t be. Could it?

But you didn’t have time to think it through, because Snow’s eyes blinked open, and you knew. He was looking right at you, blue eyes piercing into yours, sharp and dangerous like he was going in for the kill. You stood there, jaw dropped, unable to look away. In what world could you walk in on someone like this, and feel like they held all the cards, and you none? That was how he looked at you; like you’d been there watching the whole time, and this was all a show, playing out exactly as he’d planned it. Like somehow, despite all your best efforts, he’d landed on top.

It was like he read your mind, because he wet his lips, unblinking as the blonde writhed on his lap, and fucking smirked.

a/n: can’t wait for them to hate fuck after this (oh sorry forgot i’m the author for a sec) thanks for reading <3

taglist: @superchatnoir07 @itsrainingreid @nycweb-slinger @lookclosernow @etfrin @resibunn @serving-targaryen-realness @harmfulb1tch @demonsnangels @superb-icarus @julesandro @gracieroxzy @slyhersophia @shadowsepiphany @ben-has-arrived @unclecrunkle @zerotwo-sciencequeen @itsleniiilosers @thesiriusmap @ooooglymoooogly @darkqweenn @going-through-shit @loverw1tch @stinkii-boii

if you’d like to be tagged, please leave a comment on the masterlist!! 💌

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #the hunger games #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow smut #tom blyth

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kroosluvr · 1 month

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present day

if every day will be like this from now on, i'll look forward to every single one.

ok. Sits down. help meeee i tried using csp's comic tools for once (and also gradient maps + coloring w monochrome) to save time bUT I ENDED UP SPENDING THE USUAL AMT ANYWAY SO. . erm. WELL IT WAS FUN ANYWAYS

hiiiiiiiii i wrote this script 4 months ago nd finally did it (had this on the backburner for 20 million yrs bc i wanted to get out other angst bullshit first)

the parallels of goro's back (x3) on the first 2 pgs are kinda not 1:1 as i'd like but REGARDLESS i still like them. goro, who had utmost control over his life, running it like a machine, regardless of how he feels or if he's tired or if he wants to give up.......he was in control. knowing, of course, that his life is on the line at every waking moment, but since he was always on edge, always alert, he was still in control.

but now, surviving the long winter and coming out to the other side, he's lost that control AND that edge. now what is he left with? what is there left?

very speficially in the 2nd page.... i think its so <3 YAY <3 that goro, now, doesn't feel the need to take such spic-and-span clean-cut care of his appearance.., guy who rolls out of bed and throws on a shirt to go hangout w akira and sumire. he decides to tie up his hair and forgoes his gloves... feels more "comfortable" to change his apperance, to let down his guard a little. <- was the rough symbolism JKDSHKFS

sumire getting the choco croissant but letting goro have the first bite YEAHHHH WHATEVER

4th page symbolism is also rough i didnt think abt it too hard LMAO. 3rdsem goro watching his detective prince self leave. he knows acutely well that chapter of his life is over - whether he survives the long winter or dies in it. all that he knew - even though it was miserable and awful and frustrating and dangerous - is gone.

and now there's just this: the present day. whatever that means.

i think something important to me abt royal trio is just the idea of Learning To Just Exist: no need for a "purpose" or a "calling" or some overarching "goal". they just learn to exist.

and of course none of them really have a benchmark for "wow i like this i want to live like this" so they just roll with the punches, as they always have, but yknow. finally getting to live their honest student life as they always deserved

edit: and most importantly for goro, i think, is learning to cut himself some slack. "despite everything" he says, despite all the shit he's endured AND all the shit he's done, he feels like this is "right." whatever that means, he's ready to take it day by day to figure it out. AND THATS THE WHOLE THING Punches wall really hard

edit: I ALSO FORGOT. i think the sentiment of "being waited for" for goro means a lot. since he had to do everything by himself, fight for himself, decide everything for himself frm such a young age, the idea of akira and sumire waiting for him, inviting him out simply for him to be there -> is really meaningful to him, more than they could know.

edit AGAIN: also goro sleeping in means a lot to me. i imagine that guy has pretty terrible insomnia. ALSO HE HAS A BEDFRAME! i like the thought of his apartment being so /r/malelivingspaces throughout the game. he doesn’t deserve a bedframe. BUT HE HAS ONE NOW!

goros expressions in the last page gve me a hard time. sparkly....

also im SO freaking sorry if his voice isnt too well-written... i had a crisis over the wording while draiwng htis so much DSKHASKDASJK AND THE PANELING AND WHATEVERRR IDEK WHAT IM DOINGGG but it was fun!!!! exploratory..... regardless i will keep workign to do him and royaltrio justice. THUMBSUP EMOJI.

#4am again no problem. chokes #goro akechi #sumire yoshizawa #akira kurusu #persona 5 royal #royal trio #shuakesumi #cele draws #long winter #<- technically but its also good w canonverse #cele comics

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yumeka-sxf · 2 months

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According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #henry henderson #martha marriott #becky blackbell #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers

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gia-d · 9 days

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Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

#linked universe #bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #this is an adjuration #my binds #ivyring bookbinding #hi freyja!

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see-arcane · 3 months

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Dracula has bitten me.

No, not the vampire. The book. Its pages attacked me through the twin menace of Dracula Daily and Re: Dracula (also on Tumblr as @re-dracula, so feel free to blame them), leaving me a wretched bloodstained fiend, cursed to scribble endlessly to spread undead horror throughout the land! Or its bookshelves, anyway.

I’ve already published a novella, The Vampyres, and am currently chipping away at a WIP called Harker, both with their grim gothic roots in Stoker’s novel. While you can learn more details through the attached links in the headers below, the summaries run like this:

The Vampyres

Set in the modern day, one very practiced bastard of a bloodsucker realizes that his fellow undead have started disappearing. All suddenly gone to dust and decay. Which would hardly bother him, except the entity responsible is now on his track. The eponymous Vampyre finds himself caught between a desperate investigation to uncover what this impossible psychopomp really is and making moves on an enticingly oblivious new victim he can’t wait to drain…supposing he keeps his head on his shoulders long enough to get a taste.

Harker

Jonathan Harker opens and closes the story of Dracula. He is the character who spends the most time with the dreaded Count in person. He is there for the torturous two-month stay in the gothic castle, he is there when the monster preys upon his beloved in the worst possible way, he is there at the very end of that vicious unlife. And yet, so many questions are left unanswered about him and what he endured between the lines. What happened in those missing dates within Castle Dracula? What happened as he ran through the Carpathians? And what was the source and result of that eerie change that came upon him on the 3rd of October? It’s about time we found out.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Fun stuff. Check out the previews available in the links if you’re interested! Also, my author website, See Arcane Scribbles, where there’ll be more info on how to get an eBook or print copy of The Vampyres, if you like.

Ko-Fi

In case you want to drop me a buck or commission some art.

Lastly, have some tunes for your contemporary or classic undead horror of choice:

#my writing #c.r. kane #horror #dracula #bram stoker #dracula daily #re: dracula #the vampyre #john william polidori #jonathan harker #harker #the vampyres #Spotify

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mermaidgirl30 · 8 months

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Part 2: Secret Glances and Wandering Hands✨

dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Chapter Summer: After having the best night of your life with Joel Miller, will you be able to control yourself around him when he comes around your family? Or will you be a hot mess that can’t keep your hands off him?

Part 1

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: cream pie, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, no outbreak! Joel, porn with plot, dbf! Joel

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The next two days pass in a blur. You can’t stop thinking about Joel, can’t stop talking to him. The two of you haven’t stopped texting since you left his house, not able to stay away from each other. He never really was a texter, always saying how he hates it and doesn’t respond to nearly half the texts he gets, but he always texts you back. Never leaves you hanging. And you know then that you’re special to him. And that makes you that much more crazy for him and his tempting brown eyes.

He’s like a festering disease in your mind that keeps growing and growing until it takes total control of you. Winding around all your brain cells, twisting and bending them until you can think of nothing but him and only him. He’s all you can think about, all you want to think about. But then that one thought always enters your mind. That one inconvenient, pessimistic thought. He’s your fucking father’s best friend.

It eats at you, stirs trouble up in your mind. But you don’t care. Not enough to let your feelings for Joel go. You’re too involved now. Too tied up with him. If you let him go then you’ll surely lose yourself because no other man is like Joel. He’s one of a kind. The only one that can spark a fire in you. The only burning ember that can set you ablaze when nobody else can. He’s a dangerous wildfire, but you want to get burned by him. It’s your new favorite fixation. Your addiction.

You know you’re in trouble. If you’re already this wrapped up in him then how will you hide your feelings when Joel comes around your father and you’re around? What the fuck are you supposed to do then? Hide how you feel? Yeah, right. As if you can do that. It’s not possible. Not after he’d been inside you. Not after his fingers had made you cum so hard that you were shaking against him and seeing stars. Not after his hot breath had skimmed down your neck, his hands sliding up and down your inner thighs, teasing and working you up so much that you were drenched before he even reached your throbbing center. And definitely not after his soft lips had devoured yours, leaving you begging for more of his inviting, delicious tongue. Wanting to feel it slide up and down your folds until they reach the most sensitive spot as you grab his tousled curls and ride out your paralyzing orgasm as you beg him to make you cum again and again, until you give him every part of you, all of you.

You snap out of your wet daydream as you realize you’re squeezing your legs together and still sitting at your laptop, a full list of apartments on the page that you’re supposed to be looking at. But instead you’re thinking of intense brown eyes and strong hands.

Get yourself together. You need to find an apartment if you ever want to get out of this house and have your own space again. Why did your old apartment have to burn down and why was it taking so fucking long to find a new one?

You close the laptop hard, completely flustered at your lack of attention to what’s important on your agenda. You glance at the clock and realize you’re running late. You need to get to class before you miss lecture hall. You grab your pink backpack and stuff your laptop in it hurriedly and leave your bedroom, running down the narrow stairs in a rush.

Class. Focus on getting to school, not Joel.

Before you can descend the stairs, your mom comes out from the kitchen and stops you before you can leave the house.

“Oh, honey. Before you go I was wondering if you’ll be home for dinner?” she asks as her bouncy, dark curls frame her face, her blue eyes shining up at you as she gives you a soft smile.

“Yeah, I should be. Why?” you ask, your eyebrows raising as if she is about to say something out of the ordinary.

“Oh, good. Your father just invited Joel for dinner, so he’ll be here too.”

You freeze on the stairs as your hand goes tight around the railing, your heart stopping for just the tiniest second. Joel was coming for dinner? Fuck. She notices your wide eyes and your death grip on the rail as you stand still on the stairs.

“Everything okay? You look like you just saw a ghost,” she replies with a concerned look on her face.

You grab your hand from the rail and make your way down, fishing out your car keys as you zip up your bag. “I’m fine. Just realized I forgot I had an assignment due today is all,” you lie, biting your tongue as you turn the front door knob and open the door, welcoming the cool breeze in.

“Oh, I see. Okay, well have fun at school, honey. I’ll see you for dinner.”

You wave goodbye and walk out the door into the chilly breeze of fall. When you unlock your shiny black Nissan Rogue and open the car door, you throw your backpack in the passenger side and plop down into the driver’s seat. You slam the door shut and rest your head on the cold steering wheel, trying to sort your racing thoughts out.

Breathe. It’s only dinner. You can do this. You can fake it. You can pretend that you weren’t just fucked by Joel fucking Miller. Right?

You’ll have to pretend that thick cloud of tension isn’t in the room tonight, but it’s always there. Hanging like a low rain cloud that’s just waiting to spill its rain and thunder all over you while it takes you under and drowns you, suffocates you. That’s what he is. A slow turning thunderstorm that wants to strike you down and light you on fire as he consumes all of you and takes you for himself to destroy in a wave full of passion and pleasure.

You start the car up and just as you’re about to put it in reverse, you hear your phone vibrate in your backpack pocket. You pick it up and find a text from Joel waiting for you to open. You quickly unlock your phone and read the text.

Joel: Guess who got invited to dinner at your place tonight?

You quickly respond with a smile plastered all over your face. So I just heard. Looks like I’ll see you tonight, brown eyes. You put a winking emoji at the end and push send.

Okay, now you really are late. You put your phone back in the side pocket of your backpack and quickly pull out of the driveway. You put it into drive and speed to campus. You hear your phone buzz again, but you can’t look at it till you get to class. You’re too late.

When you finally make it to school and walk into class, the professor has already started the lecture. You sneak in the back and take a seat in the auditorium sized room, hoping he doesn’t notice you barging in ten minutes late. When you take a seat, you secretly pull out your phone and look at the missed text from Joel.

Joel: Brown eyes, huh? I like the sound of that. That my new nickname or something?

You giggle at the text and immediately respond. That’s what I’m going to start calling you, brown eyes. I just can’t stop thinking about them or you. You end it with a smiley emoji and push send. Joel texts back about a minute later.

Joel: You’re fuckin adorable, baby. Can’t wait to see you later. You gorgeous girl.

Your heart skips a beat at the last text and the smile on your face is so big that you’re sure the entire class can see the crimson blush all over you. You aren’t paying attention, so when the professor clears his throat and calls out your name you’re immediately drawn out of your lovesick texting game. You put your phone in your bag and quickly apologize and ask him to repeat his question.

“I said no phones in class. Don’t let it happen again,” he warns with a glare in his eyes.

“Yes, professor. Sorry. Just got distracted,” you apologize. He gives you one more nasty glare and goes back to his lecture on the practices of law. You sigh and get your head focused back on the lecture, trying to push Joel out of your mind. But he’s stuck like glue, no way to push him out.

Joel Miller is going to be the death of you.

When you get home from school, you run upstairs and get busy getting ready. You have to look hot tonight but not so much that your parents notice something is up. You dig through your closet hurriedly and start picking apart outfits. You hold up a short jean mini skirt and look in the mirror. Nah, too short. You flick through your outfits and try again with a pair of distressed black jeans. As you hold them up to your waist in the mirror, you automatically shake your head no. Too boring. You rip apart your closet and get so worked up and frustrated that you end up on the floor, cursing under your breath.

Why the fuck is this so hard to pick an outfit and why the fuck can you not get Joel Miller out of your head? You audibly groan into your hands and slouch over as you’re about to give up. When you look back up into the closet, a dress that had gotten caught behind some sweatshirts peeks out at you. Your eyes go wide as you stare at the perfect dress for dinner. Jackpot.

You push yourself off the cream colored carpet and reach for the hidden dress. You pull it out of the closet and rip your jeans and sweatshirt off, quickly sliding on the floral material over your figure. When you turn around to look in the full length mirror, you gasp as you take in the gorgeous dress. You glide your hand over the soft polyester fabric and take in the vibrant colors. It’s a short mini dress that’s light blue in color and has dark violet flowers all over. The thin straps hang over each side and tie together softly on your shoulders. It shows off just enough cleavage but not too much. The dress hovers a few inches from your knees as it grazes along your sides, the perfect combination of sexy and not too much. This will definitely catch Joel’s attention. And you plan to tease him as much as possible tonight.

You slide on some slip on white Converse shoes and call it good. Heels would be too much, your parents would definitely question your choice of wardrobe. You take a seat at your lit up vanity and smooth out your spiral curls with your bristled brush. After fixing your hair, you apply some shiny lip gloss to your smooth lips and highlight your eyes with some shimmery champagne colored eyeshadow. After inspecting yourself in the mirror, you smile and head downstairs. Joel will be here any minute, and you’re already freaking out.

When you step into the open kitchen, you notice your mom taking out some chicken breasts from the oven and your dad sitting on the couch with a newspaper in his hands with a football game muted on the tv. The wafts of chicken pull at your appetite and your mouth starts watering, but it’s also watering for something else. And that something is Joel Miller’s cock. You lick your lips in anticipation of having him again. That hot, salty taste sliding down your throat, coating your insides…

You jump when your mom pulls you out of your wet daydream as she compliments your dress. “That’s a pretty dress. Haven’t seen that one before. Is it new?” she asks as she mixes up a side of creamy mashed potatoes in a teal mixing bowl.

“Oh, yeah. Just got it at the mall a few weeks ago. You like it?” you ask as you smooth the material down on your thighs.

“Love it,” she says as she flashes you a smile and gets back to fixing dinner.

“That’s a little short on you, isn’t it?” your dad asks as he lowers his wide lense reading glasses and sets his newspaper down on his lap, giving you a disapproving look as he glances the dress over.

“No, I don’t think so,” you say nervously as you pull at the ends of the dress.

“George, she’s fine,” she says as she rolls her eyes at him. “It’s a lovely dress, sweetheart. Now will you be a dear and go set the table? Joel will be here any minute.”

“Sure, on it,” you nod as you grab up the glass plates and a handful of shiny silverware.

When you set up the last spot at the table, you smooth out the cream colored tablecloth and nod in approval. You look around the room and inspect the large dining area. Crimson curtains hang over the large, cascading window, a tall rustic grandfather clock sits next to the stairs, all six wooden chairs are pushed into the table, and the pictures of you and your family from summer vacation hang around the open dining room. You hear a jarring knock at the door and jump at the sudden noise.

“Honey, can you let Joel in? My hands are full, and your father is in the middle of a call,” your mom yells from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I got it,” you call back. Every step towards the front door has your heart hammering against your chest, and your palms feel sweaty. All you can think about is how much you want to put your hands all over him, how much you want to tangle your fingers in his unruly, tousled curls as you scream his name in white, hot bliss.

When you open the solid frost colored door, you freeze in place and have to practically pick your jaw off the floor from how ridiculously handsome he is. Joel is leaned up against the edge of the door, casually comfortable as he smiles down at you. The dimples encase his handsome features and send butterflies tumbling through your stomach. He’s wearing a deep red button-up plaid shirt and dark washed out jeans that fit perfectly against his formed legs. His hair is slicked back with gel and his lower arms flex at his sides, sending thick veins spiraling against his tan skin.

God, he looks good.

“Hi, sweetheart,” his voice drawls like sweet syrup that sticks to your insides. His crooked smile pulls at your heartstrings as you nearly sink into a puddle on the frayed welcome mat.

“Hi,” you say back shyly as you tug a loose curl behind your ear.

His doe eyes skate up and down your body, slowly taking in every inch of you that he can. His eyes seem to glow an amber color as a radiant glow casts over his face. “You’re so gorgeous,” he hums as he cups your chin and slowly grazes the pad of his calloused thumb against your jawline. You seem to get lost in his hypnotizing gaze as the tip of his thumb brushes against your lower lip. You almost lean in, wanting so badly to pull his head down to yours so you can graze your lips over his, but your father interrupts as he comes around the corner. You and Joel jump apart before he notices anything.

“Hey, Joel! Come on in. Claire is just finishing setting the food up on the table, so make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, George. Don’t mind if I do,” Joel smiles as he steps through the threshold of the door and closes it tight behind him. When your dad disappears behind the corner of the dining room, Joel trails his hand against the small of your back and drops it down to his side, but not without grazing against the back of your thigh. You gasp as goosebumps appear over the patch of skin he just touched, the back of your neck already sweating from having his hands on you. You don’t stop to look behind you. You just keep moving into the lit up dining room, away from the tempting hands of Joel.

You pull out a chair as it sounds like chalk to a rusty board and sit as you pull the chair up so your legs are underneath the delicate tablecloth. Joel takes the seat next to yours and slides the chair over just a tad, just enough to where if he wanted to he could reach out and graze your knee. The thought of it has you giggling on the inside.

Your mom brings in the main dish, cooked Parmesan chicken breasts and sets the porcelain dish in the middle of the crowded table amongst all the other various dishes. “Joel! So nice to see you. How was work?” she asks with a big smile on her face.

“Oh, you know, the usual. We were pretty busy today. Got a lot of new workers on the job, so thankfully I didn’t have to stay late today.”

“Well, I’m so glad you got to come tonight. Should be a pretty good meal,” she says as she takes a seat on the opposite side of the table, across from Joel.

“Wouldn’t miss one of your dinners,” he says with a grin on his face.

“Well, go on. You guys dig in. Get what you want. There’s plenty more and dessert is cooling off, so help yourself.” Joel happily obliges and grabs up his plate, scooping out some mashed potatoes and chicken onto it. You go to grab the salad tongs, and his hand comes down on yours as you two reach for the same item at once. You feel a spark of electricity zap through your fingers as you quickly pull your hand back hurriedly.

“Sorry, go ahead,” you blush as you put your electrified hand in your lap, playing with the hem at the end of the flowery dress.

“Ladies first,” he offers as he holds his hand out and waits for you. You nod your head at him and take the end of the tongs, wishing his rough hand was still on yours. You fill your plate up and take a bite of the warm, seasoned chicken. It slides down your throat as the savoury flavor sticks to your tastebuds.

“Mom, this chicken is excellent!” you say excitedly as you take another bite, this time getting Parmesan in the mix.

“Glad you like it,” she smiles as she stabs at the salad in front of her and takes a small bite.

As you continue eating, your mom and dad make small conversation with Joel, but then they ask you a glaring question. “How’s the apartment hunting coming, sweetie? Finding anything you like?” your dad asks as he looks over at you, his Texas State University jersey hanging loosely over his athletic figure.

“Oh, you know. The same. I’ve been applying to a few I found, but I haven’t heard anything. Seems like it’s almost impossible to find anything right now. They’re all waitlisted or unavailable,” you groan under your breath. You take another small bite of chicken and chew, the taste of disappointment setting in as you grow stale from apartment hunting.

“Sorry to hear that, baby,” he says soothingly. “Joel, you don’t think you could help my little girl out do you? You’ve got the hookups with this sort of thing. Mind helping her find a place?” he asks nicely.

Joel turns his head toward you and flicks his eyes over you carefully. “Sure, I can help. Anything for my best friend’s daughter,” he smiles. There’s something hidden underneath that smile, the curl of a smirk as his eyes turn a hint darker as he rolls those last three words out. Best friend’s daughter. He means to say best friend’s daughter that he fucked on top of his couch in the silhouette of night in his house.

“Thanks, Joel,” you smile as you tap the edge of your knee against his, silently thanking him with more than words. He curls his lips up as he turns back to his plate, jabbing a piece of chicken onto his metal fork.

The two of you continue brushing the side of your legs against one another as your parents continue the small talk with you and Joel. The denim material feels cool and slightly rough against your bare skin. You can practically feel the heat that comes off his thigh as your leg digs into his, can practically taste it as it simmers off his tan skin.

A low rumble starts aching in your belly, but you aren’t hungry for food. You’re hungry for Joel. It’s so very tempting to reach your hand out and trail your fingers up his inner thigh, so easy to discreetly palm him through his jeans as you make the blood rush, pulling at his hardening cock as you get him all worked up under the table. So very tempting…

Your better judgement leaves the room as you throw all your dignity and self control out the window, watch it fly away like your heart did the first time you saw Joel standing in your living room. You can’t control yourself. He’s too hot, too tempting, too damn charming, his hands too experienced, his mouth too lush and inviting. Ah fuck it, it’s fine.

“How’s Sarah doing? She like being in high school now?” your dad asks as he stuffs some mashed potatoes in his mouth, looking over at Joel.

“She’s getting used to it. It’s a lot bigger than middle school, but overall I’d say she’s doing well,” he answers as he takes another bite of the flavored chicken. Your mom jumps in on the conversation and asks a question directed at Joel. Now’s your chance.

You sneakily reach your right arm out and set your hand down on the edge of his knee gently. He jumps a little but continues on with the conversation.

“And she’s making lots of friends I presume? She’s a social butterfly that one,” your mom laughs as she takes a sip of tea from the tall glass in front of her.

You trail your hand up higher, sliding up the crease of his jeans, going over his inner thigh slowly. Your nails trace delicate patterns over the inner seam. You’re almost there, almost.

“Oh yeah, she has a ton of friends. Sometimes I can’t even keep her at home. She…” His sentence cuts off as he chokes on his words, thrown off by your impulsive behavior. You grab his cock through the tight denim around his shaft, slowly working your hand up and down his length as you feel his cock harden, getting thicker by the moment.

“Joel, are you alright? You’re not choking are you?” your mom gasped out, almost standing up from her seat.

“No-no, I’m f…fine,” he says with gritted teeth, his jaw clenched from the buzzing arousal you ignite on him. “Just swallowed too much at once,” he gnashes out, a slight groan getting stuck deep in his chest.

“Oh, good. Thought I was gonna have to call an ambulance,” your dad laughs, joking to himself as he swallows some green beans.

Joel isn’t amused at all. He covers his mouth and turns to you, whispering harsh words as he puts a hand over yours to try to stop you from jerking him off under the table. “Quit that,” he glares. He gives you a warning glare, but you can see he’s turned on. The way the large veins in his neck strain against him tell you quite enough.

You give him your best sultry eyes and smirk up at him, mouthing “Make me” to him. His glare relaxes as he clenches his jaw, his eyes growing darker as he gazes at you, a hint of a smirk rising on the corner of his mouth. Oh boy, you’re in trouble.

He grabs your wrist sharply and pushes your hand away from his erection that’s planted firmly against his zipper. He places his rough hand on your thigh, slowly sliding it up your inner thigh as butterflies start to form in the pit of your stomach. You grab your glass of sweet tea and take a drink, letting the sugary liquid rinse down your throat as you push down the growing arousal that’s building in the base of your spine. You hear your parents asking Joel about fixing your dad’s truck. He’s always been good at that. Fixing things. Houses, cars, floors, your growing orgasms…

Before you know what’s happening, he slides his calloused fingers inside the lacy material and finds your folds as he rubs up and down, spreading the already built up slick all over you. Your eyes go wide and you spit out your tea, coughing up the liquid you choked on as you grab the crimson napkin and cover your mouth.

“Honey! Are you alright?” your mother asks alarmed, her arm reaching across the table as if she can help you. She can’t help you though. Nobody can except Joel, especially since he’s finger fucking you in front of the parents, under the table in private. He slides his middle finger inside you and you squeeze your legs together, trying not to moan at the dinner table.

“I’m fine, just went down the wrong tube. Think I took too large of a drink,” you gasp out, dabbing your mouth as you fist the soft cloth in your hand. Pretending like you’re completely fine and not building up an orgasm right at the dinner table.

“Oh, thank God. Just be careful next time you take a drink. George, tell Joel about what you heard today at work,” she says as she turns to your dad. He starts rambling about some office promotion at work, but you tune him out. The only thing you’re focused on is holding back your moans as Joel elicits an orgasm out of you.

Your left hand wraps around Joel’s wrist as he works you nice and slow, two fingers stretching your walls as they work up and down, up and down. His thumb finds your clit as he presses down firmly, drawing pressurized circles meticulously around your throbbing bundle of nerves. You dig your fingers into him and bite down on the cloth with your other hand, holding in a moan as you fight for your life.

Your skin is flushed, your eyes wide in fucked out bliss, and your throat is completely dry. The orgasm is building in the base of your spine, slowly lowering down your body as your walls start fluttering around his fingers. You’re right there, so fucking close. Another wave of slick runs down your center, right on his thick fingers. You were going to spill right there in the chair, completely ruin your lace and Joel’s fingers.

As your dad says something to your mom, Joel leans over and whispers dirty words into your ear. “Atta girl. That’s a good fucking girl. Cum for me, make daddy proud,” he growls into your ear. And that was it. That was all the motivation you needed.

Joel speeds up his fingers, pumping in and out harder, the circles around your clit growing deeper and deeper until you can’t take anymore. You feel your walls clench around his fingers, feel the white hot sensation take place, and then you cum, hard. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself drip hot liquid all over his fingers as he continues to pump a few more times into you, making sure he collects all the slick on himself. You bite down hard on the cloth and choke out a moan. Your face is hot and flushed, and you can barely see anything in front of you as you come down from your oragasmic high. You can see Joel smirking from the corner of your eye, so proud of himself for making you cum just like that.

What a fucking tease.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright? What’s wrong?” your mom asks as she pulls concerned blue eyes your way. Your dad follows the same, eyeing you carefully with furrowed brows.

“I’m…I’m okay. I just think I ate too quickly. My stomach…feeling a little queasy…I guess,” you gasp out, trying to collect yourself as you feel Joel’s fingers retract from you, fixing your underwear over your cunt again as he slides the material smoothly over your center, feeling just how drenched and uncomfortable it is now.

“Oh, alright. Just take your time next time. Maybe hold off on anymore bites for a few minutes?” she asks with worried features.

“Mhm,” you nod, still too fucked out to focus on anything but the ringing in your ears.

“Joel, dear. I do hope you’re enjoying the Parmesan chicken. It’s George’s new favorite,” she beams at your dad as he smiles back.

“Oh, it’s perfect. Absolutely delicious.” He draws the last two words out slowly as he takes the two fingers that were inside you and pulls them in his mouth, sucking slowly as he stares at you with smoldering eyes. Your jaw drops at the provocative words and action.

Joel Miller is a fucking menace.

You take a couple of minutes to catch your breath, come back down to earth where your breathing wasn’t so ragged and your body wasn’t strung out from the fucked out bliss. Whenever you pull yourself back together, you hear Joel’s chair push back against the hardwood floor. You look up and he’s walking out of the dining room, his plaid shirt clinging to his broad back, pulling excessively as he flexes his muscles around it.

“If you’ll excuse me, gonna run to the restroom.”

You turn back to your plate and push the fork around the chicken, stabbing at a piece as the thought of food makes you nauseous. You hear Joel quietly clearing his voice in the other room and when you look up he’s staring at you, trying to get your attention. His dark eyes smolder at you as he smirks, and then you’re back on edge again as your throat runs dry. He curls his index toward him, coaxing you to follow him as he stands at the edge of the staircase waiting for you to join him.

“Ummm, I’m also gonna go. My stomach is feeling pretty queasy, I might be sick,” you say hurriedly as you practically trip out of the chair and stumble across the room. Before you can leave the room, your mom calls after you.

“Let me know if you need anything, honey. Feel better,” she says as you exit the room, stopping right in front of Joel. He licks his tongue slowly over his teeth, and it makes you weak at the knees. He quickly grabs your wrist and pulls you up the staircase. You follow with no objections, wanting to feel his soft lips on your skin, wanting him to burn you with his scorching flames that lick at his tanned skin.

He pulls you into your room and closes the door swiftly behind him, locking it as he turns to you, glaring at you with burning eyes. “You couldn’t fucking wait to put your hands on me until we were alone?” he asks with a clenched jaw and tight lips.

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t control myself. You were too tempting,” you apologize sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at him in a flirtatious manner.

“Mhm. I noticed,” he says as his lip twitches, his stance guarded against the door.

“Well, it’s not like you could either. I mean you’re the one that made me cum at the dinner table, in front of my parents,” you bite back, your eyebrows raised in defense.

“You’re the one that started it,” he huffs, taking a step toward you.

“But you’re the one that finished it,” you smirk back, looking at him under the hood of your eyelids as your gaze pulls him forward.

“You’re walkin’ on mighty thin ice, darlin’,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he takes another step forward, getting closer to you.

“And what are you gonna do about it, huh? You gonna teach me a lesson?” You bite your bottom lip seductively, and Joel watches with his pupils expanding. You can see his cock hardening under the tight jeans, begging to be set free. He takes another step forward and another, ending up right in front of you as he drags his hand through his salt and pepper scruff slowly.

He takes his hand and pulls at the edge of your dress, grazing his fingers against your thigh as heat builds in the pit of your stomach. “Oh, yes. Gonna show you what happens to bad girls who don’t behave. Got a real good lesson to teach ya.”

He wastes no time and pulls you to his chest, crushing his mouth down on yours as he kisses you like he’d been touch starved for days. You part your lips like the red sea and invite him in, opening wider as he clashes his tongue against yours and tastes you. His coffee scent is all over you, seeping into your bones, consuming you whole as his taste intoxicates you, submerges you into deep depths as it pulls you under.

He guides you over to the bed as his hands dig into your hips, letting one drop to your ass as he squeezes and teases you. “You look so pretty in this dress darlin’, but I think it’d look even better off.” He pulls the flowery dress over your head and tosses it on the floor, flicking his eyes over you as he takes in the shape of you standing in nothing but lacy underwear.

“Goddamn, baby. So fuckin’ gorgeous. I could just lick you from head to toe,” he groans as his eyes smolder over you.

“Please do,” you beg, your hands fisting his shirt as he sits you on the edge of the bed carefully, right on top of the pink neon blanket.

“Gotta be quick, sweetheart. Don’t want your parents finding us up here. Gotta be quiet. Can you do that for me?” he asks with raised brows as he runs a calloused finger down the edge of your neck, making you sick with want.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers still attached to the plaid material.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises. He drags his tongue up the side of your neck and sinks down on your collarbone, making you groan with desire. His hands knead your breasts together as he slides his mouth down, sucking each one into his mouth as he swirls around your breasts, making your nipples pebble underneath his hot mouth.

“Feels so good,” you groan, digging your fingers into the tangled sheets beneath you.

“Yeah? ‘Bout to make ya feel real good somewhere else,” he smirks.

He pushes your thighs apart wide and slides in between your legs, trailing slow kisses up your inner thighs as he teases you, building up that hot slick as it drips against your lace. He drags his thumb over your center and you hiss in response to the sensitive area.

“Goddamn, darlin’. You’re so wet for me,” he growls as he brings his mouth down and stops at your center. He looks up at you with a dark smolder in his eyes as he takes his tongue and licks slowly over your clothed cunt.

“Fuck,” you gasp as the weight of his tongue brings down more slick. He’s fucking drowning you right now, and he’s about to pull you over the edge.

“This what you want? Want me to feast on that pretty pussy of yours?”

“Yes, fuck. Please,” you beg, eyes wide as you watch him drag down the ruined lace and toss it on the floor. He slowly licks his lips as he stares at your bare cunt, just like a tiger looks at a fresh piece of meat. Ready to come in for the kill.

“Look at how gorgeous you are, baby. Fuck. Never seen a prettier pussy than that. Now, let’s see how good you taste.” He drops down and licks a full stripe from your your entryway, all the way up your soft folds. He takes his time, savouring your flavor on his tongue as he basks in the glory. Drinking you all in. You dig into the sheets as you hold in a moan.

“Goddamn, you do taste good. So fuckin’ good. Christ.” He dives back into you, licking his tongue up and down your folds, slowly spreading them as he comes in for the kill. He ends at your clit and draws circles on your aching bundle of nerves as he swirls and swirls, pushing a finger inside you as he continues working at your clit. He puts a second finger in you, curling up his fingers to hit that sweet spongy spot that makes you see stars. He pulls at your clit, sucking it into his mouth as it makes all your nerve endings explode. You’re so close, so fucking close.

“Joelll,” you moan, digging your fingers into his untamed curls as he looks up at you through a cloud of fog and desire. His pupils are full blown and black now, the look of seduction written in his eyes.

“That’s right, baby. Tell me who makes ya feel good,” he demands as his fingers curl up and up, hitting your g-spot perfectly every time.

“You, you, Joel… I’m gonna… I’m so close. Please, my clit. My clit… fuck,” you moan as he pulls slowly at your throbbing clit, pulling back the bundle of nerves as he stretches you out, feeling like you’re about to tap out at any second now.

He releases you from his mouth as the bundle of nerves slap back into place, all throbbing and aching as you clench around his fingers, feeling yourself about to lose it all over him.

“That’s it, there ya go. Come on, baby. Give it to me. Want you to cum on my fingers. Wanna taste you,” he growls. He speeds up his fingers as they push harder and faster into your spongy spot, his tongue flicking meticulous circles over your aching clit. You feel your walls clench around him as they flutter back and forth, so close to releasing. He takes your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, and that’s what takes you over the edge.

You feel the white hot sensation pull through you as you cover your mouth and moan loudly, watching him lick up all the cum that seeps out of you. You can barely see him, barely hear him through the fog. Your moans are muffled by your hand. Your ears ring and your vision is spotty as your head becomes lightheaded. He laps you all up, pulling his fingers free from inside you as he sticks them in his mouth and sucks them clean, not leaving a single drop to spare.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby. Did so perfect for me,” he praises as he scoots you back on the bed, crawling on top of you as he snakes his leather belt out of his jean loops. He unzips his zipper and unbuttons his pants, pushing them and his black briefs down just enough to set his hard, thick cock free. It plants firmly against his stomach, a bead of precum gliding down his shaft as he crowds your body, pushing you back against your fluffy pillow as your lilac colored walls surround you.

“Gonna fuck you, sweetheart. It’s gotta be quick, so just hold on. Gonna fuck you fast and hard,” he growls as he lifts your legs over his shoulders, caging his arms around you tightly. He moves the tip of his leaking cock to your entrance, slowly entering you as he pushes in. You can feel the stretch as he plunges into you, your walls sucking him in as he pushes further. He’s almost too big, too thick for you, but it feels so good.

“Joel, please,” you whine out before he starts moving again.

“What do ya want, baby?” He groans out as he feels how tight you’re squeezing him.

“Fuck me,” you beg, your hands grabbing on to the back of his shirt as your nails dig into the cotton material, trying to sink down into his skin.

He growls and his pupils expand into black pits. “Such a needy girl. Fuckin’ filthy, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Gonna take real good care of that pussy. Keep those pretty eyes on me, darlin’.” He sinks into you, starting slow and builds his speed as he fucks you faster and harder, his cock bottoming out in you over and over again, making you claws your nails down his back and making you moan into the shell of his ear.

He lifts your hips higher, angling you to where he’s thrusting into you further. You can feel every detail of him. Feel his throbbing, thick cock as it plunges in and out of you over and over. Feel his heavy weight as he hovers over you. Feel his hot breath as he pants out against the side of your face. Feel his rough hands as one skims the edge of your hip, grasping tightly to fuck up into you. You moan out against his lips, just ghosting over them as they linger over your swollen lips, desperate for his mouth to drop down on yours.

“That’s a good girl. Takin’ me so good,” he praises. You drag your hand through his tousled curls, and he groans at the feeling. He picks up the pace, cock thrusting into you hard as you fight to keep your eyes open. You can feel that heat building, feel your walls fluttering against him as your mind starts to go numb. You’re right there on the edge, about to come undone. All you can hear is his muffled moans and the sound of wet, slick skin. The sound of his cock driving in and out of you. A sound you love to hear. It only makes you more aroused.

“Joel…” you moan into his ear, licking the edge of it as he groans in response.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me,” he purrs as he ruts his hips into you, taking his calloused fingers and rubbing your throbbing clit as the orgasm starts to take over. Your eyes flutter closed, and Joel has to remind you to keep them open.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, darlin’. Let me see you.” You peel your eyes back open as you’re on the verge of tears. It feels so good, so fucking good. He rubs his fingers faster over your pulsing clit, and then you’re done. You feel hot heat take over as it rolls down your spine, right through your cunt as you spill all over him, saturating him with white, hot liquid.

“Oh, that’s a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises. You start to moan his name, not able to hold it in and then he covers your mouth with his own, drowning out your moans inside his mouth as he tangles his tongue with yours. He speeds up his pace, his jaw clenching and his ragged moans hot against your mouth. He pulls away from your lips and rests his sweaty forehead on yours as dripping pieces of curls stick to your skin.

“Right there, right there. Yes, fuckin’ perfect, baby. Feels so good I’m gonna-” He cuts off as his face goes slack and his eyes flame with lust. One last thrust and he’s spilling his seed inside you, deep. You feel the warm liquid slosh inside you, and you moan at the feeling of it. It feels like hot ecstasy that buries deep in your skin. It feels like Joel, it is Joel.

He falls flat beside you on the bed as you both breathe heavy, both too fucked out to move as the bliss takes over. God, you love this. Love to be fucked and talked dirty to by Joel Miller. It’s your new favorite hobby, your addiction. And something about sneaking around makes it even hotter.

He places his softening cock into his briefs and pulls up the jeans around his hips as he zips them up, looping the belt back in as he fastens it around him. He grabs a towel from your bathroom and gently wipes off the sticky mess from your legs, carefully going over your center as you hiss from the now over sensitive area.

He caresses your cheek slowly and skims the pad of his calloused thumb down your jawline, looking at you with full admiration in his chocolate eyes. “Get dressed and come back down after five minutes. I’m gonna head back down. Alright?”

“Okay,” you nod, still breathing heavily from your intense orgasm.

He smiles down at you, a slight dimple showing on the edge of his mouth. You can’t help but smile and admire him. “Did so good for me, pretty girl. So good,” he whispers, praising you as he gets lost in your eyes. “You’re really special, you know that?” he asks in a gentle lull.

You lay there in a daze, having trouble finding your words as you look at him as if he was the sun in the sky. Gorgeous and so radiant, blinding you with how bright he was shining now as his smile beams down at you. “You make me feel special,” you reply out, in a daze like stare.

He chuckles out a deep laugh as he gently kisses your forehead. “I’ll see you down there, baby,” he says as he grabs your hand, dragging his fingers away from you as he lets go slowly and steps toward the door. He opens it quietly, takes one more longing glance at you and then closes the door behind him. You hear his steps echo through the hallway, slowly fading away as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

You cover your face and groan into it. God, you like him so much. So fucking much. He’s perfect, absolutely perfect. You wait a couple of minutes before you crawl your way out of the bed, pulling on a clean pair of underwear and sliding your dress back over your head. You smooth it out in the full sized mirror and fix your fucked out hair, pulling the brush through it until it looks like you didnt just have sex. But you can smell it in the room. The stench of thick clouds of arousal, sweat, and Joel.

Fuck.

You spray a drop of vanilla sugar perfume on to try to cover it up, and that seems to do the trick. But you still smell him, still feel him all over you. He marked his scent on you, claiming you, asserting his hold on you. But you loved it, loved every bit of it.

After a few minutes of finally working up the nerve, you leave your room and head back down the stairs, entering the dining room again as you take your place next to Joel and sit down, pretending like you just didn’t have amazing sex.

“Feel better, honey?” your mom asks as she looks you over, not suspecting anything suspicious.

“Much better,” you confirm as you take a sip of your tea and set the glass down in front of you.

“Good, glad to hear it,” she smiles.

Joel puts his hand on your knee, rubbing slow circles with the pad of his thumb as he soothes you. It’s affectionate and caring, one of your favorite things that he likes to do for you. He always shows you he cares. Always so gentle after sex, always wanting to wrap you up in his arms as he holds you after a hot session of cardio. He’s got a lot of soft spots for being so manly and tough. And you love to see it, that sweet, soft side of him. It’s your most favorite thing about him.

“Joel, you ready for some dessert? Claire made her famous cherry pie, and it’s to die for,” your dad says eagerly.

“Cherry pie huh? My favorite,” Joel groans out, his eyes shifting to you as a small smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He winks at you, and your cheeks go crimson as you get what he’s saying. He’s saying it’s his favorite because he’s referring to your pussy. That’s the cherry pie he’s really talking about. You shake your head at him and smile.

Joel Miller. The fucking menace that took over your life.

Tags: @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @dugiioh @blueseastorm @laurrrra @tuquoquebrute @joelalorian @pedritosgfreal @callmecath1 @ladamari68 @amyispxnk @cinnamongorll

Part 3

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