#some lore for those who read the tags
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solid-gold-au · 7 months ago
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Upset
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canisalbus · 1 year ago
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Wait, holdup, these dogs have LORE?!??
Is there somewhere that we can read the outline of the full story?
The dogs have lore, I'm just bad at making it accessible and easy to follow. I'm not a writer so the thought of actually typing down this stuff and keeping track of it in a concise way feels intimidating, to put it mildly.
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fisheito · 11 months ago
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still thinking about them
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lotrmusical · 3 months ago
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My high school did a yearly poetry recitation contest (Poetry Out Loud), so Oh Boy do I know some poems. My favorites are Ozymandias and "the world is about to end and my grandparents are in love," by Kara Jackson. Also in 8th grade we had a Poe unit and had a class contest to make the best music video of the Raven, so I still know a good chunk of that.
i hadn't heard of the kara jackson one! just read through it and enjoyed it, particularly these lines > 'grandma returns to her love like a hymn, marks it with a color. // when the world ends will it suck the earth of all its love? /will i go taking somebody’s hand, / my skin becoming their skin?'
#taking this as a challenge to see how much of ozymandias and the raven i can remember. no i'm not bored at work what gives you that idea#i bet ive got most of ozymandias. the raven may be a lost cause#i met a traveller from an antique land / who said: two vast and trunkless legs of stone / stand in the desert. near them on the sand /#half-sunk a shatter'd visage lies whose frown / and wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command / tell that its sculptor well those passions read#...something or other i do not recall / the heart that mocked them and the heart that fed / and on the pedestal these words appear /#my name is ozymandias king of kings / look on my works ye mighty and despair /#nothing beside remains. round the decay / of that colossal wreck . something or other#the lone and level sands stretch far away#decay of that colossal wreck indeed (my memory for this poem)#oh well.#once upon a midnight dreary as i pondered weak and weary / over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore /#while i nodded nearly napping suddenly there came a rapping / as of someone gently tapping tapping at my chamber door /#tis some visitor i muttered tapping at my chamber door / only this and nothing more#?? (it's downhill from here)#ah distinctly i remember it was in the bleak december / and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor /#something?ly i sought the morrow / vainly had i sought to borrow / from my books surcease of sorrow / sorrow for the lost lenore /#for the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels .name lenore / lost to me forevermore#(then there is another stanza; bird-infested word bonanza / which i used to know at some point but do not know anymore /)#something something something door. darkness there and nothing more#oh it's the 'silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain / thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never known before' bit#anyway. deep into that darkness peering something stood i hoping fearing / doubting?? dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before#but the silence was unbroken and the stillness gave no token / and the only word there spoken was the whispered word lenore#(more missing chunks)#oh i remember 'surely said i surely that is / something at my window lattice' because it's such a stupid rhyme#bird time bust time idk#ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore / tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's plutonian shore /#a billion more stanzas i dont remember. except for 'prophet!' said i 'thing of evil! prophet still if bird or devil!#whether tempter sent or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore /' etc. wait you can only add 30 tags to posts now?? i had more raven chunks#ask#anon
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icewindandboringhorror · 5 months ago
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Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...
#Definitely not going to be able to stick with it just due to like... being realistic about my energy levels and etc. ESPECIALLY as we#enter the Evil Summer and it becomes hot all the time. But... one can attempt.. at least...#I'm also a very slow writer since I tend to re-read and edit while I write. and only move onto the next section once what I'm writing#seems okay. Which is easy for visual novel type stuff. since ''sections'' of a conversation are more clearly marked (like if you#have a menu option with 5 different dialogue choices. finish the character's response for choice 1 before moving onto 2. etc.)#Especially since when I'm done with a whole quest I always follow it up by playing through it and picking every option and making sure it#actually all works okay and etc. So I am already going to see it all a second time. Then I can go back and reorder a few words or remove#certain sentences that don't sound natural when I read them out loud (I always read it all outloud to myself since it is... just peple#talking.. it should sound like natural dialogue in their voice. etc). But my ''first draft'' is kind of not as first drafty since I pause t#edit a lot as I go along. So it also takes longer probably than it would take other people who I think treat a first draft as more#of a loose guideline or something. AANYWAY...#80F in my bedroom right now again... huzzah... I did end up finishing and recording that sims build video before the heat wave (or is#it really a heat wave if it's just summer..?? lol) came in.. but now... augh.. the editing... plus the costume photos and all else... Much#to do as always.. Often such a long todo list.. a giant scroll hung upon the walls of the evil hermit wizard tower..#Anyhow.. I hope I can finish getting ready for bed early in time to reward myself with a game of tripeaks solitaire whilst I snack on#cheddar cheese and some of those preserved artichokes in a jar. hrgm... I actually have nasturtiums (ultimate best flower) on the#deck again this year but I had to move them all into a corner today because the leaves were getting burnt by the sun lol.. Also am now more#cautiously weaving through social media to ignore all dragon age news. NOT bc of spoilers (I actually love spoilers/literally never play#any game until there's full guides on it I can read to plan my entire playthrough based on knowing exactly what I want to happen lol + mods#and etc.) but just because I'm so busy with my ownprojects I simply do not have the brainspace to dedicate... Yes I love to think#about elves and fictional universe lore. but no.. I pretend I do not see it. Does not exist to me actually. ghgj.. OHH also took som#cool pictures of flowers in the garden section of a store and I wanted to do like.. character designs based on the colors of the flowers o#something. but that might just be another unnecessary project to add to the pile.. I want to commit to the daunting task of dyeing my#hair again some time.. hrm.. this is all of the updates I can think of. As if a bunch of random tags make up for never posting anything for#weeks on end lol.. alas.. too warm to think properly I suppose.. .. I neeeeeed a long lost relative to leave me some million dollar#estate in their will so I can have the resources to move to a colder climate or something ..augh#.. but for now.. I shall toil away in my little wizard tower trying to write 2000 something words a day whilst sweating and such ghbj
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corrodedcoughin · 2 years ago
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Pspsps can I beg for under 10k fluff fics or art. Smut can be included that does not bother me. Self promo is actively encouraged. Just anything that makes you feel happy and good and that life is okay. Ps hope you all are having a good day
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arklay · 2 years ago
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tagged by @florbelles @denerims @jillvalcntines @jendoe @leviiackrman @aceghosts @indorilnerevarine @swordcoasts @nuclearstorms & @morvaris to do this quiz for some of my ocs, so have the horror girlies – thank you all so so much ily guys! ♡
tagging: @aartyom @aelyosos @brujah @cultistbase @faarkas @girlbosselrond @lightwardens @liurnia @narshadda @nocticulas @prometheas @reaperkiller @risingsh0t @shadowsofrose @snowthroat @solasan @steelport @stormveils @voerman & you! if you've already done this, my bad, just ignore me. but as always, no pressure to do this, of course! ♡
TRAGIC HORROR TROPES.
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— the final girl.
the final girl comes out the other end of trauma alive – or, they were supposed to. honestly, you're not so sure you're really alive anymore. you saw the same hurt take those you were closest to while everyone paraded your bruises and bravery, as strength, as if you're the hero. and it hurts. you're tired and you don't want to have to be brave anymore. whatever you went through, it changed so much of who you were that you're still getting used to the person you see in the mirror. you didn't have a say in any of it, but you're here now, and that's gotta count for something. you'll make it count for something. but first, you need to let yourself find rest.
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— the witch.
people need to find blame wherever they can; it makes the bad things in their life feel just a touch more bearable. the witches are so often blamed for the curses others are under that no one even questions it anymore. you point to a supposed witch and everyone else prepares the stake, no matter their innocent. to be born and believed a witch is one of the worst curses of them all – you can have friends and family, but there's always a dread that someday, someone will point to you, and everyone you once trusted will throw you into the pyre. if you're here, reading this, you've probably been burned before. and i don't blame you for wanting to hide away, to really become the witch they all say you are, to curse them. but to be a witch is to brush your fingertips over the bark of a tree and watch it grow a touch stronger. keep that in mind.
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— the vampire.
it is the loneliest day of a vampire's life, the first time they look into a mirror and see their reflection missing. drinking blood sucks too, don't get me wrong, but as a vampire you had to learn to hide from the sunlight, from your family, all your friends, because you were unavoidably different now and you didn't know how to explain that to them in a way they would understand. you could get stranger's blood in bursts, but what is life when you can't know someone for longer than the night lasts? you left everything behind because it was easier than trying to tell them. i just hope you know you're not the only vampire out there, and that there exist people who will understand your situation without a word. they'll sit with you in the dark for as long as you'll need them to.
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— the mummy.
here's the thing about mummies – why the hell is anyone opening up their tombs? you were resting. you were peaceful. but someone intruded, barged in and broke down your walls and stole all the parts of yourself that you cherished, and then blamed you for being angry. blamed you for chasing them down no matter how fast they ran and how many obstacles they put in your path. and you know what? they deserve your rage. they destroyed something sacred. they didn't give a shit, and they wouldn't ever have lamented their actions had it not been for you – the real hero – getting up and showing them that they don't have the right to destroy and pillage as they please. that is your home. that is your body. nothing they do can take that from you. if not for you, they probably would've kept breaking into tombs and disturbing restful lives without a second thought. you won't be repaid for your good, but i hope you know you are a saviour in your own right.
#tag games.#oc: dani#oc: diana#oc: tereza#oc: veronica#cool. flings myself off a cliff.#these are so accurate that i am just 🧍🏼 whadda hell man...#dani's makes me cry a lot cause i've literally said this. she just wanted to stop fighting. to just chill and rest. be away from all the#horror but then she had to get pulled back into it and involved because she couldn't just sit by and see more people get hurt... aughgguhg#doesn't consider herself a hero when she is one... augh. diana's oh man. first of all hilarious cause ''the wicked witch'' jokey nickname.#but yeah. oof. yeah. points at her whole upbringing and even some points during the whole ordeal with the organisation. and she did indeed#become the witch they all said she was. oughhgh. hi so name drops!!!! tereza is ofc donna's gf i think you caught onto that mayhaps idk. if#the romanian surname is anything to go by and the fact that i said in that lil picrew replies she has a fascination with death. but uh.#yeah. you know i was literally reading that result and went omg this is. mm. wow. okay then. and then that there are other people like you#augh. also funny that vampires. miss tall lady she works for in the castle who not technically a vampire but the aesthetic™️ love to see it#okay veronica's is v inchresting cause i have very little lore for her yet but that is sooooo i am piecing things together i am i am#also idk still not 100% on her surname but it's fine it's okay like those kinda vibes. you understand.
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reanimatestar · 2 years ago
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quick sketch of my best friends clark kent and superman
[image description: two pencil portraits of clark kent (also known as superman) from dc. the first drawing is him as clark kent while the second is him as superman. he is smiling in both portraits. /end description]
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spider-man-2o99 · 1 year ago
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when are you gonna see the new spiderverse?
it's not set in stone or anything, but we're aiming for sometime within the first week of its release if we can afford it!!
(on the note of spoilers: i Strongly Prefer to not be spoiled, but they won't like. Ruin My Life or really even my Day, i just would prefer to not be spoiled cause it's. like. a dick move, y'know? thanks. love yall)
#talking tag#asks#atsv#across the spider-verse#generally movies r a luxury we have to wait a couple months after release 2 see but i have been waiting for This One for Five Years so--#--it is a very VERY special treat :}#...even if they did For Some Reason decide that THE best color to flash wildly during like. Every Mig Scene is Give Cap Migraines Yellow.#foolish fool fools. if you wanted to reference the end of Issue Number One you need a PALER more DESATURATED yellow or a red/black gradient#in fact pushing the Paler Colors would work a lot better to contrast against him in a properly colored BLACK AND RED SUIT. LIKE THIS DESIGN#sheesh he lives in The Bleeding Neon Future but they pulled Future Inspiration from one of those boring sleek white smooth round shape guys#Nueva York in the comics wasnt meant to be a Cool Future it was meant to be half-criticism of Modern NYC by ppl who Lived There--#--and the other half was Speculation abt what it Could Be if Nothing About The World In (e616s) 1992 Changed For 107 Years#(...dot dot dot. comma. As Written By Overwhelmingly A Bunch Of Middle Class Cishet White Comic Book Guys[TM]. LMAO)#(the good stuff is GOOD the fun stuff is really REALLY fun and the Bullshit in comic book fashion offers up new writers to KILL On Sight <3#look man im just. im rambling at this point but like i love marvel 2099 i think there are absolutely Some books that ARE worth reading--#--from the imprint and dismissing All Of It just for being 90s Comic Books is unfair to the many teams of people who worked on them yknow#i Do Not Like Pat Mills (MANY reasons.) but the initial art team behind Punisher 2099 (especially the penciler) put SO much passion into it#people only really remember Spider-Man 2099 today but e928 has a really rich developed lore that i get the sinking feeling we;ll probably--#--never actually See Again in any of the same capacity that it once existed at. but. yknow. time passes & things change & that's.. fine.
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sugarlesswriting · 2 months ago
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Do you ever have a family member say the most entitled shit you've ever heard and go ??? girl you're 32 and acting like a 16 year, calm down
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agender-vampling · 1 year ago
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A while ago I tried out the concept of a "Shotasona" and honestly, the design was awful, not at all what I wanted, so I'm trying again.
This is also just. My ideal form tbh. Anyway info on him under the cut if you're interested
He was bitten by a vampire at the tender age of 4, immediately placed in isolation to keep him from transforming others, and then promptly forgotten about for 6000 years after his human caretakers passed away.
Despite his age he is still very much 4, though probably mentally closer to 6 by now as he's taught himself to read and can crudely write, but due to the nature of his vampirism he's never able to develop very far mentally or physically past 4 years of age, so his moter skills and processing power isn't great. The isolation hasn't helped either, of course.
Sense finally getting to leave his very infantile room (think N's or Victini's room from Pokemon BW) he's basically always overwhelmed. The world is massive, everything's too loud, too bright, too new, and he's expected to be a wise old sage due to his age and isn't exactly being as taken care of as he should be.
He's trying his absolute best to play along with how everyone expects him to be, but could really use someone who treats him his mental age. He hasn't found that person yet, though.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months ago
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do you believe me now? | 8
it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily
Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.
The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 
Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 
The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 
But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 
Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 
I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 
How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?
A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 
“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 
“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.
Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 
“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”
People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 
“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 
“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 
“No.”
“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”
Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”
Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 
Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 
Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 
Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 
But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 
Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 
Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 
“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 
“Um… Spencer?”
“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”
He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”
The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 
“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 
When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 
You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”
“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”
You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”
Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 
“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”
He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 
“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”
“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”
You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 
He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 
Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 
“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 
“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”
The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?
“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”
Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 
“I forgot. I thought… he said…”
A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 
“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”
And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 
“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”
“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”
His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 
“You didn’t see my note?”
The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 
“You left a note?”
Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 
It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 
A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 
“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 
Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”
“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 
He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 
“I didn’t know.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”
You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 
“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”
Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 
“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”
“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”
He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 
He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 
Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 
There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 
Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 
And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 
“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”
Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.
Now he remembers. 
Long night, huh? I remember those days. 
It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 
Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 
“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 
You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”
If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”
He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 
“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”
“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”
You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 
“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 
You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 
“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”
You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 
The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.
“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 
You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 
“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”
Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 
“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”
“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”
Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 
“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”
“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”
“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”
Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 
“Like… one at a time? Or…”
He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.
“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 
There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 
“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”
The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”
“Spencer—”
“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”
“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”
For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 
But that’s not the topic at hand. 
“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”
You swallow. 
“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”
About what?
He says your name. No response. 
“Can you look at me, please?”
It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 
“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”
To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 
Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”
Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”
You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 
“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”
“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”
He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”
“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”
Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?
A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 
“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”
Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 
He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 
“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 
“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”
So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 
You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 
Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 
He can’t not worry. 
And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 
-
part nine
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meteorella · 4 months ago
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Nerdgasmic Rhapsody
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pairings: loser!dom!ellie x popular!sub!reader
cw: flufff!! ellie's an absolute cutie pie. cursing (obv), oral! (r receiving), tribbing (maybe?), nipple play, after caree!!, pet names: sweetheart, baby, princess, that's all i think!
wc: 511
a/n: (intentional lowercase!!!) first ever ficcc omg🥹 i have never ever in my life written a fanfic before so pleaseee don't judge and also feel free to point out some mistakes and stuff!! I take criticisms as i'm sure it'll help me a lot throughout my writing journey :))) can't promise I'll post consistently considering I'm insanely dumped with school works but I'll definitely find time to do so. anyways i hope u guys enjoy this one!! Feel free to hit me w some ideaaasss :3
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after you had made it official with the biggest dork on campus—ellie—people would randomly come up to you in the hallways and tease you, not believing how sweet she actually is. after all of your previous relationships, ellie is the only one who genuinely cared for you. despite her shy and nerdy demeanor, she's really fun to hang out with. she'd continuously yap about space, the comic books she's read—savage starlight—and drop all of its lore to you. the whole fucking lore. although you hardly cared. she was too adorable. most of the time, you would find yourself just looking at her sparkling green eyes, topped by her matte, black glasses, her hand gestures, and the soft smile plastered on her lips while she speaks. she's even more beautiful up close. how could others not see that? whilst ellie can be a total cutie pie, you cant deny how fucking insane she can be in bed.
when eating you out, she'd flick her tongue out relentlessly on your leaking hole. firmly gripping on to your thighs, she already knows your next motive. "nuh-uh, sweetheart. keep them open for me." she shoots you a knowing glare before diving back into your drenched core, keeping eye contact all the while. her gaze roamed over your appearance, hair disheveled, eyes rolled back, and completely fucked out. "s-sorry, baby–fuck." you moaned as you clutched onto her dino-printed sheets. so fucking cute. after you'd climaxed for the 3rd time, she'd climb on top of you and slip her tongue down your throat, allowing you to taste yourself as she grinded her own throbbing cunt against yours. your soaking wet pussies rubbing, and creating the most delicious rhythm together. she absolutely loved your boobs. she adored how it just bounces up and down as she rolled her hips above you. she took your nipple in between her thumb and her index finger and pinched them, making you flinch at the feeling. her glasses were all fogged up and crooked, but she couldn't care less. she was too engrossed on drawing out more of those angelic sounds that slips past your lips as she pleases you. "doing s–so good f'me, princess... fuck–so hot." when you had both finally reached your peak, she'd lean down and gently clean up all your juices from between your thighs with her tongue.
she gives absolutely the best aftercare imaginable. the routine would start with cleaning you up with a wet towel, swiping it's soft material across your face, your breasts, your legs, your inner thighs—she had always taken care of you in the most tender and loving way. she loved hearing your soft, exhausted sighs of relief, as you watch her with a smile on your face all while savoring the chocolate she so graciously offered you. after ellie finishes cleaning you up, she would settle beside you, enveloping you in her arms as she wrapped them around your waist. her lips showering your neck with gentle kisses as she whispered heartfelt words of affection. "i'm going to marry you one day."
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YAAALLLL OMG I HOPE THIS DIDN'T SUCK TOO HARD😣😣😣🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 i hope u guys enjoyed this one, i really enjoyed writing thisss!!
tags: @ellstronaut
dividers: @khaer @plutism
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roseverdict · 1 year ago
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hi i can't believe i ran out of tags. might make a specific post at this point lmao.
Let's construct Alan Becker's videos' timeline.
First, a base : AvAnimation I to VI.
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But in AvA V, AvPokémon, and AvSMB, the Minecraft Icon is missing from the taskbar. It went missing during AvMinecraft, featuring the charaters of AvA IV.
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(Note : Diverging arrows DO NOT indicate a splitting timeline; arrows indicate an ordering, diverging arrows indicate an uncertainty.)
Now, the AvM episodes. Indicated by their number, in green, they will be assumed to be in order. They obviously happened after AvM.
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(Note : "~" means that the episodes are directly following one another
But in 19, Blue tries to open the lucky blocks by jumping under it, mimicking what the Marios did in AvSMB ; and at the end of the 20~30 arc, the Minecraft block is put back in the taskbar, meaning that if the block was missing, the event happened in between.
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Ho ! And AvLoL happens after they met with purple during 8~14
Now, the problems :
First : AvYoutube. Minecraft is in the taskbar, but we can't know if it happen before AvM or after 30. Both possibilities will be shown in purple.
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Second : During the #TeamTrees, Discord replaced the Youtube icon, so it happened after all of that ; and #TeamSeas has references to #TeamTrees.
Finally : Noone has any clue where is Av∑ath.
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There. That's the timeline of the classic videos. I'll do the shorts (which some will be helpful) later.
#reading the prev tags chain and eating popcorn heheheheheheehhe#'why is there stickman lore now' :)#sticks#aight gimme a second to figure out where they are in the TL#right ok.#dropped off early/mid-s3? yah ok so#the king guy had the gang split up yes? well the gang managed to get back together again-#red and orange crossed the beams (those beacon blocks that would teleport them between rooms)#and managed to get themselves warped to some desert somewhere. after wandering a while and losing their tempers and brawling in that desert#they were discovered by a minecraft player and jumped from the mc world onto their desktop to email themselves back to alan's PC.#which is where they run into purple (who was on a mission to get the mc icon from the desktop). and we KNOW this is purple's mission bc#while red and orange were in the desert#we also got green (and reuben) locked in a tower after busting out of the parkour trap and discovering the king's plans.#(this is where green remains for the time being)#meanwhile blue and yellow escape the trap via yellow hacking the command blocks keeping each area of the trap self-contained. they flee#through a nether portal and end up helping a couple villages get their farms back in order to prevent giant ravagers from obliterating#them in their search for food.#…except then the king (who only green has seen at this point) shows up and kills the ravagers and is hailed as a hero. he then uses this#image of himself to get blue and yellow to trust him and follow him into. A Throne Room. Yeah. Totally Not Sus. and he just Hangs Out with#them there…until green manages to bust out of nether jail with reuben and gets to them to tell blue and yellow abt the king's plan#i highly recommend watching the pigstep sequence bc a lot of stuff starts happening all at once now and the music is a BANGER#but the end result is that everybody reconverges on the nether and the king ends up with not just alan's mc icon#but also the other mc player's as well- orange emailed themself back over to grab it once purple snagged alan's-#but only for a split second. the power of both icons kinda goes boom lmao. but during the massive epic music montage battle everybody ends#up split up again#this time with red and orange each in different areas#blue and yellow back at the villages in time for an illager raid#and green chasing a morally-conflicted purple through a musical#the gang rallies allies from all the places they wound up in to go back to the nether and do battle with the king before he can destroy mc#as a whole…and then. and THEN. AOUGH.
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mochamadeleines · 1 month ago
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Sweethearts and Sweet Dreams <3
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“Nothin’?”
“Mhm.”
“Whats behind your back then?”
You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.” (6.4k words)
tags!! - 18+ modern au! Husband! Joel Miller, Wife! Reader, you guys are happy and in love!, mutual obsession if u squint, lots of exposition im so freaking sorry, pervert Joel if u squint, praise kink joel if you squint, dumbification if you squint, written for those with daddy issues lowkeeyyyyy, written with game joel in mind but could be hbo joel no problem!, lowk i combined the two in my mind, mentions of shy old man joel, housewife! reader (by choice), unspecified age gap but reader is like. thirty? and joels Like...55??, talk about joel taking medication for his anxiety, p in v sex, dirty talk, public sex, outdoor sex, joel has a kink for dresses because i said so? service top joel if you squint, pet names, a pinch of jealousy and possessiveness for fun, playful banter, mentions of maria and tommy and their baby with a made up name Lol, mentions of ellie and sarah (rip), mentions of readers past abusive relationships, talk about joel struggling with substance abuse/addiction and being hospitalized.....Im sure u can theorize why </3, lots of lore ill get into in another fic MAYBE *smirks*, flip flop in perspective, sometimes showing what joel is thinking or what reader is thinking blah blah
authors notes!! - hi there!!! im mocha and this is my first joel fic ever + my first fic posted to tumblr!! im really nervous cuz i havent written anything in months and ive never written joel before so please let me know if you like it!! id love to write more of this au for u guys if theres a demand for it...Thank u for reading!! also barely proof read im ngl. ive been staring at this fic all day im sick of itttt. p.s i dont usually write smut i also kinda do idfk Is this bad or am i tweaking
You step out of the house, morning sun soaking into the roots of your hair and the driveway beneath your feet. Theres a package youve been waiting for. 
You cant contain your grin as you wiggle it out of the hot prison that is your mailbox.
“What the hell are you doin’ out there barefoot?” Joel chastises you from the front door, leaning his elbow on the frame. Joel, your lovely husband of two years. Been together for five. And because of how hard he works, you have the privilege of being a stay at home wife. Some people think that sort of life is stifling, but youve never felt so free. No more jobs you hate, no more financial struggles. Just you, Joel, and your cat, Cement. He likes to pretend it isnt a totally hilarious name for a pet.
You were his first relationship in almost a decade, so it was a lot of work helping him unpack his anxieties about dating, and a lot of work for you to feel safe and unafraid. Honestly? Youve been mistreated by enough men to land you in the psychward.
But Joel never yells at you, he never breaks things when hes angry or threatens to hurt you. He might raise his voice every now and again, but its never because of something you did. Sometimes the stress of life is just too much. 
He works hard, he loves his daughter- daughters- and he would do anything to keep you happy. Whatever you say goes, he says. Even now, you hardly argue. Of course you have disagreements, or off days thatd lead to one of you being especially moody, but the both of you do your best to communicate.
Behind that rough exterior, is someone who just wants to be needed. 
You first met Joel at a youth center you volunteered at, he taught guitar, you taught arts and crafts. Joel says it was your smile and sense of humor that charmed him. It was his singing and southern accent for you.
Your favorite thing about Joel is how soft he gets around you. He says its because you make it easy to be soft. 
Joel was a shy lover at first. He would get nervous just kissing you, or holding your hand. While most people become intimate very early on in their relationship, you and Joel didnt do anything sexual for the first five months of you dated. Sure, you almost did, plenty of times, but he would get so overwhelmed and cut things short. You broke two of your vibrators during this era of your relationship. Embarassing.
You remember your first time very vividly. Joel had worked back to back doubles trying to meet a deadline, and on the final day, after having barely spoken to you for almost a week, you had shown up to his house, unannounced. You were wringing water out of your jacket when he swung the door open. 
“How-” Joel blinks a few times, stepping forward to examine the rainfall. “How long you been out here?”
“Not that long,” You lie and pick up the container you brought off the porch chair. Part of you had a hard time mustering up the courage to even knock on the door. Droplets of water cascade down your chin. “Hi, sorry. I know youre tired.”
He shakes his head, voice soft and warm. “S’fine. Now c’mon, youre gonna get sick.”
Youre seated at the little dining table next to the kitchen now, trying to let the sound of the rainfall ease your nerves.
Joel was quick to grab you a towel, and does the honors of drying your face and hair with it. “Why didnt you jus’ call me? Woulda gotten out of the shower faster if i knew you were gettin’ soaked out there like this.”
“I dunno, sorry.”
“An’ whatd i tell you about apologizin’ all the time?”
“Sor- Uh. Right. Okay.” You tighten your jaw. No more.
Joel moves behind you, now squeezing water out the ends of your hair. “Whas’ that?”
“Oh!-” You peel back the lid, showing it to him. “Old fashion cake donuts are your favorite right? I remember you saying you liked eating them with your coffee in the mornings so…I made these. Youve been working a lot lately and I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Joel gingerly grasps the container from your hands, looking into it. Theyre a warm golden brown, outside evenly fried, and the sweet scent of them hits his nose right away.
“I was just gonna leave them on the doorstep and call you to tell you they were there, but I wanted to see you.”
His adam's apple bobs as he swallows the dryness in his throat. Youre too good for him. 
“Thank you very much.” He presses a kiss to your damp hair. “Now, lets get you into some dry clothes.”
Joel gives you a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers to keep you modest while your clothes wash and dry. 
You wait patiently on his bed for the hot chocolate he promised you before you showered. Theres nothing to watch on the tv, so you just turn it off and reach for the lamp on his nightstand instead. 
He comes in quietly, and sets the mug down beside the lamp. You finally come into focus, clear as day even under the low lighting.
“You uh.. You look nice.”
You blink. “I look nice?”
“In my shirt.”
That gets a smile out of you. 
Joel tips his head towards the mug. “S’hot so, give it a few minutes. Dont want you burnin’ your mouth.”
You nod. “Okay.”
Hes sat beside you now and the two of you sit in silence for a while. Its not awkward, just the kind of silence where both of you want to say something but just.. Cant.
Joel unravels first. “Missed you, y’know. Just been tired.”
“I know.” Your voice wobbles, and Joels jaw tightens like hearing you sound so sad stings him. “I missed you, too.” 
He slides his hand over yours, giving it a squeeze. Its okay. 
“Hey Joel...Can I stay the night?” 
“Sure. Id really like that.”
While you drink your hot chocolate, you and Joel catch up. You both talk about work, and about your new found interest in baking. Joel teases you about your lack of cooking skills, you do the same. Youre both useless. 
When its time to climb into bed, neither of you can actually fall asleep. Joel rolls onto his side, away from you and the window. You follow, curling up like a little cat against his back. The sensation is nice for the both of you.
You speak up after a little while.
“Joel?”
“Mm.”
“Thank you for letting me stay.”
He scoffs, voice thick with exhaustion. “Like I'd force you to leave after you brought me such a nice present.”
You let out a little giggle, “So if i didnt, youd kick me out?”
“Id think ‘bout it.”
You gasp, gently shoving at his back. “Thats mean…!”
“S’really not.”
“Oh yeah? And what if I poisoned them?.”
“Then itd jus' be a regular day of your cookin’ then.” Joel reminds you, lighthearted. Too many times where you left the shells in your eggs or burnt toast or left the bacon on the pan for too long.
“You cant get mad at me for my dark past when you made a perfectly good sirloin taste like horse leather.”
“Ugh. Dont remind me. That was like putting a one-hundred dollar bill into a paper shredder. How do either of us stay alive again?”
“Uh. Digiorno?”
“Digiorno.”
After a few moments, Joels rolling over again, and hes guiding your head to settle against his chest. Your arms wrap around him, and his arms around you. 
“Joel,” You whisper. He hums. “Im cold.”
“S’cause youre not wearin’ any pants.”
“And whos fault is that?”
“Still yours.”
“I was left out in the rain like a sad, sopping wet cat. One that was left in a box all alone with no family…” You pretend to sniffle. “Dont you feel bad for me?”
Joel sighs, not saying anything more except making sure the part of the comforter behind your back is tucked into your side so the cold air doesnt get in. When hes done, you do a little shimmy up his body, and throw your leg over his hip. Oh no.
Hes alert now. Very alert. Be normal. Joel hesitates, licking the dryness off his lips. “Uh. Feel better?”
“Mhm.” You push your face into his throat, cat-like, before settling down again. Hes like a radiator.
Actually scratch that, he cant be normal. 
“Darlin’.” He rasps, patting your back to get your attention.
“Mm?”
“Your leg. Move it.”
A few beats pass. “Why?”
“Because…” Wow,  he didnt think hed get this far. You shift forward and Joel lets out a quiet exhale through his nose, one that couldve been masked by the rain if you werent so close.
“Are you-”
“No! No. Its- Its not what you think-” He cant see your face in the darkness but he knows you feel the semi-hard struggling through the confines of his pants. Lame.
“Joel,” You say, soft. Your hands slide up his arm to cradle his jaw. Lightning flashes into the room, giving you a glimpse of Joels tight expression. He whispers your name back, just as soft.
“This is normal.” 
Its normal, it is! Except for the fact that you guys havent had sex yet. The stress of being intimate is too much, kills his boner in a blink. The longer he waits the worse the anxiety gets.
“I-I know.”
You place a hand on his chest, feeling it pound away like crazy through all the soft muscle.  
“Youve been taking your medication, right?”
Has he?
The silence of him thinking is proof enough. “Joel-”
He sighs, rubbing his eyes through the darkness .“I know, I know. Shoot, Im sorry. I just forget sometimes.”
“Its okay.” The pad of your thumb strokes the tops of his cheek, and you press a tender kiss to his mouth to soothe him.  “...Want me to remind you?”
The softness of your lips has him a bit dazed. “Huh?”
“I said, do you want me to remind you? I can- You know, call you before you leave work. Make sure you take them.”
“You know I wake up at five-o-clock in the mornin’ , right?”
“I know.” 
In a whisper, “Okay.”
Joels rough palms trail down your back and stop at the curve of your butt, finger tips delicately tracing the skin above your shorts. You shiver.
Barely above a whisper. “We dont have to go all the way.”
He says your name again, laced with worry. He doesnt want you to feel pressured. 
You pull your leg off his hip and push yourself up, settling your hands on either side of Joels head.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Yes-”
“-And you cant get all in your head about it. You stay here, with me. You stay present.”
“Okay, okay.” He nods, a bit defeated. “I will stay present.”
“When you...When you say you dont wanna have sex, what is it that youre thinking exactly? I know you said you just get really nervous but I feel like youre not being totally honest.”
Joel stays quiet, idly rubbing your sides. Maybe you are a cat. Just getting to feel any part of you is soothing. “I jus’ want you to feel good. ‘Fraid ill do somethin’ you dont like.”
“You cant assume how I feel, Joel. Being intimate.. It takes time to learn what the other person likes.”
He sighs. “I know.” Youre always right.
Adding on, “Like I said, we dont have to go all the way,” You lean further back, situating yourself on his hips. He lets out a shaky breath when he feels the pressure of your ass through his sweats.
“But, I want to start somewhere. I want to feel you.” 
“Fuck- Um-” Hes shaking now, letting you grind your hips down onto him. Joel cant seem to control the way his hips instinctively push up to meet yours. Youre both becoming of a mess of little gasps and hot breaths and tiny whimpers already.
You hunch forward, guiding his hand under your your shirt- His shirt- letting him feel up the supple skin of your stomach, then the area where your ribs are, then your-
“And I want you to feel me,”
Surprisingly, you did actually go all the way that night.
Your sex life was a bit of a rocky start, but after Joel got over most of his anxiety, you learned quickly just how goddamn insatiable he was. Five years in and he still regularly makes you sore. 
There are a couple things you learned about him and his sexual interests. He loves to take you in his truck, in your kitchen, in your bathroom, on your couch. Other, riskier places. Anywhere that isnt your bed apparently, not that he isnt fucking you there either.
Joel is handsy, so handsy infact it embarasses you to no end, especially when youre infront of others. Thats usually how it starts, too. First he kisses you, then gropes your hips and your ass, and the next thing you know, youre cumming on his fingers. Then hed bend you over, or get you on your back, or make you ride him. Is it really riding if hes just slamming up into you until your brain turns into mush?
He likes that too. Making you not think.
Youd be lying if you said its only ever him. Sleepy morning handjobs before work, whining to him over the phone and touching yourself to his voice, arching your back into him while you're washing dishes, sucking him off after hours in his office.
And while most men prefer lingerie or little costumes, Joel likes dresses. Dresses that are discreet so he can take you in the backyard when he comes home early and sees you gardening. Or when youre both at a friends house and hes had a little too much to drink and finds himself alone with you. Dresses that make it easy to play his favorite game with you. I touch you, and you make sure we dont get caught by being too loud. Joel really is the worst sometimes.
Now, you only ever wear pants when its cold, or to bed or sometimes when youre lounging, like today. Youre in some shorts and a tank top. Otherwise, its dresses all year round, usually retro styles or ones meant for spring. Joels not picky though, he loves any dress on you.
Even if you wear an extremely modest, white lacey sleep dress, looking like some kind of vintage ghost, the man would still keep you up all night. And he has. He said you looked like a princess. You guess you kind of did.
The entire thing is like an unspoken arrangement between you both. He doesnt tell you to wear them, you just do.
And he works hard to spoil you, so why not buy as many cute dresses as possible? 
You got a cute dress today too, on the same day Joel has off. You think its going to be a new favorite of his.
The big polymailer stays hidden behind your back. Be casual. “Uh- Nothing!”
“Nothin’?”
“Mhm.”
“Whats behind your back then?”
You sway in place, trying to suppress a knowing smile. “I dont have anything behind my back.”
“Lemme see then. Show me your hands-”
“Hey, Mrs. Miller!”
Both you and Joel turn your heads to the voice, and only one of you has the energy to fake a a smile. Your neighbor is stopping in his driveway, having come back from a jog it looks.
“Hi, Lee.” 
Joel really, really, really doesnt like Lee. You dont like him either, but youre not one to cause problems. Lee on the other hand, is. Hes a bit younger than you, and a lot younger than Joel. Hes one of those tech dudes with a massive ego, thinks that youll be swayed by his money and his “charm” and youth as if youre some sad housewife in need of saving. Gross. 
And another thing, Lee doesnt even actually live here! Hes here ever so often to visit his dad between, you dont know, tech expos? You forget. Joel believes he started showing up more often to see you. 
Youre walking towards the porch again. Joels looking especially unhappy to see him today, knuckles pulled taut into a fist. His lips stay pressed into a thin line, careful not to let anything slip out. He usually lets you do most of the talking, as much as it pains him. 
Joels really not a fan of the way Lees eyes take a trip up your bare legs. Little shit.
“Out with no shoes again, Mrs. Miller?”
“You know me, Im uh- Im weird.”
“The weird ones do it best.” He smiles, all teeth. It gives you the creeps. His attention is on Joel now. Its like watching a puppy try to one up a wolf. “Right, Joel?”
“Uh huh.” Whatever that means.
“Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, Mrs. Miller.” Lee crosses into your driveway and you glance briefly at Joel, as if to make sure he isnt going to start growling at the other to stay away. Youre clutching the package to your chest now. 
“Have you ever been to a support group for uh- you know, the spouses of addicts?  I have a friend from work and shes really struggling.” 
Lees tone is sugary sweet, but the fake kind you put in diet soda except that stuff is way better. Joel sighs from the door. You stand there, dumbfounded on the porch steps because what the fuck is he going on about. 
You clear your throat, keeping your voice firm. “No. Ive never needed to.”  
Joels voice cuts in like a knife. “Been clean for almost twenty years now.”
“Yeah but, you know,” He shrugs, squinting a bit under the morning sun. “Relapses happen.”
Joel and Lee are at a stand still, and the moment Joel lets the arm leaning on the frame drop to his side, you know youre in for a lot of trouble. You move quickly towards the door. “We have to get ready for a- uh- a thing? but Im sorry about your friend.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. Im doing my best to support her.” And before he turns away, he just has to be slimy to you. “If you need someone to talk to, Im here for you.”
“No, that really wont be necess-”
Joels slinging a strong arm around you to yank you back inside before shutting the door. 
“Motherfucker,” He hisses to himself, stomping through the walkway and into the kitchen.
“How-” You rub your eyes, letting them adjust to the light inside of the house. You put the package down onto the bar counter that opens up the kitchen and follow Joel to the fridge. “How does he know?? I thought-”
“Been living in this house for decades now,” His expression is tight, brows knitted together while he chugs a bottle of water. “People talk. ‘Specially if I'm being rolled into an ambulance on more than one occasion.” Joel frowns. “Fuck- I shoulda punched him in the fuckin’ face- Do you see how hard he tries so hard to flirt with you infront’a me?”
“I know, love. I was there.” You take the bottle from his hand and set it to the side, then wrap your arms around him. “Try not to let it get to you okay?”
Joel sighs into your hair, giving your body a squeeze. “I know, I know, but jus’ hearin’ him tryin’ta use my baggage to make a pass at you…S’fuckin’ evil.”
“I agree, but I dont want his blood on the driveway.”
“So get it on his driveway instead, got it.”
You giggle and tip your head up to kiss him. The tension eases from Joels shoulders, and he cups your cheeks, letting his worries melt away into your mouth. When the pads of his fingers start to slide under your tank top, youre leaning back. Youll be here for a while if this goes any further.
Joel mindlessly chases your lips, looking a bit pouty now that its over.
“Im gonna start getting ready for the barbecue, okay?”
“This early?”
“I like being punctual.” 
“My brother wont give a damn if were late.” He noses your jaw, pressing a kiss here and there. Your knees are beginning to feel weak. The bastard is trying to distract you.
“But I do. The farmers market opened today, and I promised Maria I'd get her fresh strawberries before we got there, remember?”
“Alright, alright.” He grumbles into your shoulder.
Joel lets you go, watching you round the bar counter to get your package and disappear upstairs.
-
Ever since you came down to a freshly showered Joel, and got into the car with the gift bags you prepared for Maria and Tommy, Hes been staring at you. One wrong move and the drools gonna start pouring out of his mouth.
Your hair is in its relatively natural state, freshly washed and shiny from the oil you put in it. You put on some light makeup, and went a bit heavy handed on the blush to look sunkissed, and topped it off with a flavored lip gloss Joel especially enjoys. 
Now, the dress. Its a pink floral mid-length dress, with a low cut sweetheart neckline and a corset style backing to cinch your waist and push out your chest. The material is thick and pretty, and there are two other layers under the skirt to keep its shape. You have on a pair of little pink pumps with little bows to match. 
The drive to the farmers market is fairly peaceful, the windows are half down and theres music playing at low volume on the radio. You and Joel have different tastes in music, but one genre you can always agree on is alternative rock. 
The weathers beautiful, sun high in the sky, and its not too hot or humid. The day really is perfect. Youre gonna soak up some sun when youre at the barbecue. Hopefully, they made lemonade again too.
Joel has been mostly quiet throughout your shopping. While it would worry some, youve been with him long enough to know that he just has a lot on his mind. What hes thinking about? Maybe youll learn when you make it back home at the end of the day.
You gasp, strolling through the grass to a stand with a mountain of apples. Granny smith, Macintosh, Pink Ladys, Honeycrisp, the works. He grunts, trying to keep the things that are already in your basket steady. You came for strawberries and are going to leave with much more than that.
Joel nudges you softly. “Remember, this is quality stuff, meaning itll go bad faster. Dont get too much.”
“Okay, got it.” You beam, and then begin inspecting the Pink Lady apples first, trying to find the ones with the best color.  He keeps the basket within reach so you can drop your picks in.
"These were Sarahs favorites."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, it was funny 'cause we started arguin' over these or Red Delicious. I think Red Delicious is better."
"Thats so cute! Hmm. Should we get one for her? A Pink Lady?"
"Uh," He thinks on it for a moment, unsure, but the smile on your face helps him make a decision. "Sure, why not."
You drop two perfect Pink Ladys into the basket, moving onto the next pile.
“Hey, Joel.” You grin, holding out a wrinkled granny smith apple. “This one looks like you”
“Ha ha.” He deadpans, and grabs it from you to put back. In turn, hes reaching for the runt of the pile. A pathetically small one sitting near the bottom. “Now this one looks like you.”
“Does not!”
“Does too.” 
The next stand has golden kiwis, and youre practically dragging Joel forward to try them. You ask for one, and the man at the stand slices it into halves, giving you a plastic spoon to go with. 
You let Joel smell it first. “S’good.”
“Lets see if it tastes good.”
You sink your spoon into it, humming when you see how soft and easy it is to scoop out. In your mouth it goes!
Its tastes sweet, a bit mango-y and fucking delicious. You bounce in place, spoon feeding Joel next. “Oh yeah,” He smiles, smacking his lips a bit to really let the taste settle on his tongue. “Were takin’ some of these.”
You take one, then two, then three and four then five and as you reach for the sixth one, Joels stopping you with a gentle hand. 
“Darlin’.” 
“Right.” 
For the next few stands its just you and Joel trying various kinds of fruit. Starfruit, blueberries, some mangos, and then youre going back to the truck.
“I think my favorites were the mangos and golden kiwis. I hope Maria and Tommy have enough space in their fridge for all of this.”
“They moved into a bigger house, I reckon their fridge s’probably bigger, too.”
“What time is it?” 
You let go of Joels arm so he can switch the basket from one hand to the other. 
“‘Bout…” Hes squinting at his watch. “12:34 in the afternoon.”
“Oh! Guess we got the shopping done sooner than I expected. Hmm. Should we stop somewhere in the mean time?-" You snap your finger when you remember something. "They opened up this cafe that has cats in it! We can drink coffee and play with them for bit! The next fourty-five minutes will go by super fast."
“Youre gonna make Cement jealous.”
You bat your hand dismissively. “Hes not gonna caaare.” 
“Oh yes he will. And remind me again why we named our cat Cement?
“Uh, we were both drunk and had gotten him the day before without a name picked out?”
“A whole year later and we still kept it. Worst pet owners ever.” Joel chuckles, opening the passenger door for you like he always does. 
“Thank you.”
“Mhm.”
The giant basket of fruit goes into the back seat next to the gift bags before Joel slots himself into the drivers seat. 
You fumble with the radio a bit, trying to see what else is on but ultimately landing back on your preferred station. Theyve been playing a lot of Linkin Park recently. Hell yeah. Joel buckles himself in at last, and pulls out of the parking lot. 
“Marias gonna teach me how to make baked chicken,” You hum, gazing outside the window.
“You sure youre not jus’ unteachable?”
“Ha ha,” You lightly shove his shoulder, making him smile. “I thought you loved the meat sauce pasta I learned how to make.”
He settles into his seat more comfortably at the stop light, elbow rested on the window. “Got me with that one. Think I like ground turkey over beef, though.”
“Yeah? Me too. The beef tastes better but the turkey is lighter. Stops me from feeling all sick.”
“Agreed.”
Youre looking out the windshield now. Where did all the buildings go? Youre out of the city. 
“Uh, Joel?”
“Mm?”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere to kill time.”
“Yeah but where?”
“Youll see.” 
Your brows pinch together. “I see a whole lot of nothing except for trees."
“Almost there.”
Joel makes a hasty left turn onto some campgrounds. Your stomach starts to twist into excited knots. Is he gonna show you a baby deer or something? Bunnies? He used to be a park ranger for this area, and would tell you stories about all sorts of baby animals hed run into.
The car comes to a stop, and he turns the engine off. Silence.
“So…Were out in the woods to kill time?”
“Mhm.” Joel unbuckles his seat belt and twists into the back to grab the spare jacket he usually keeps there, then gets out of the truck and comes around the back to open the door for you. 
He holds your hand to help you get down from the passenger side, and as soon as both of your shoes hit the ground Joel is on you. 
You dont know where your hands should go, youve kissed Joel a thousand times and yet you still get so flustered when he catches you by surprise. You keep your hands on his shoulders for now, letting him press wet kisses to your neck and shoulder.
“This is new right? The dress?” He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze through the fabric. “Thought you looked so pretty when you came down stairs in it.” 
Your heads spinning. Something about your dress? 
“Woulda been okay if you let me have you earlier.” He pulls away, examining your flushed face cradled by his hand. Every part of you just fits so well in his palms. “Then I thought, why not have you now? We got time to spare.”
“Joel- We- Someone could see us-” You sputter, and Joels already shaking his head with a knowing smirk. He pulls you around to the bed of the truck, popping it open, only pausing to spread open the jacket he grabbed, just having just thrown it in there when he came around to get you.
“No ones gonna come lookin’ for us.” He turns you around, pushing you down onto your front. “As long as youre quiet.” 
Fuck. You really hate this game. At least, you like to tell yourself that.
Blood rushes to your ears while Joels rough palms lift up the skirt of your dress, exposing your ass and thighs to the cool air. He whistles from behind you. 
“Red lace panties?” His fingers dont shy away from tracing along the fabric covering your cunt. “This new too?”
You crane your neck over your shoulder to look at his face. “Uh.. Surprise?”
Joels smiling now, fingers dipping under the lace. “Thas' awfully sweet of you.”
His touch slips and slides around your growing wetness, then trails down to your clit. Your voice wobbles a bit and fuck- fuck hes going too fast. “Joel- Ah-” You whimper and try to push yourself up to look at him but his hand is steady on your spine, keeping you down. 
Smug, “Go on, sweetheart. Keep sayin’ my name. Jus’ like that.”
A whine escapes you when he pulls away, “Nooo.” You push your ass back, as if to entice him. You succeed, because hes skipped his usual routine of fucking you with his hands and is now unbuckling his belt.
Joel rolls you onto your back, and peels your underwear all the way off, bunching it up and shoving it into his back pocket. Your face burns just watching him.
“Think i'll hold onto these for a lil’ while.”
His hands push the back of your knees towards your chest, exposing your heat. Youll never get used to the way he just seems so interested just watching your cunt squeeze around nothing. 
“Thats-” You swallow, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. "Joel.”
“Relax." He coos, "Seen it a thousand times already, and ill be seein' it a thousand more. Get used to it, honey.”
Your attention flickers down to where his dick is about to meet your entrance. Joels nudging you down onto your back again and pulling the top of your dress down to expose your chest. Its when youre distracted that he actually moves to push himself in.
Both of you groan together, and Joel could never get bored of fucking you, not when your cunt just pulses around him everytime hes inside you.
Joel wastes no time fucking you once he eases all the way inside. Youre trying your best to keep quiet. Shit is no easy task. Its like Joel is trying to get you guys arrested.
He props himself up with a hand near your head, and lets the other keep one of your legs pinned open. The moans start to claw out of your throat. “Joel- Joel-” 
“Shh. Thas’ enough.” He growls through his teeth, fucking you harder. “Youre gonna- Gh- Get us caught-”
Something rustles between the trees, making you both freeze. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching Joel straighten up to look around.
After a few seconds of squinting, Joel can see a few foxes moving about through the trees. Thank fuck. His shoulders visibly relax.
Hushed, “E-Everything okay?”
“Yeah, jus’ some animals.” 
And like that, hes back to it. His dick is going to make your eyes permanently stay rolled into your head. 
Joel is always just so handsome when hes pounding into you. His forehead gets shiny with sweat, and his jaw is tight from clenching his teeth, keeping himself quiet so he can focus on your moans. His face is noticeably redder against his usual farmers tan too. Really, hes just so attractive.
A flurry of yes and harder and fuck spills out of your mouth and into your palms. Not too loud, you try to remind yourself.
“Joel- S’too much-”
“Nah, thas’ not it.” He huffs, humorous. “You can take it. Y'always do. In fact, you love gettin’ your cunt bullied by me, aint that right?” As if to get his point across, he thrust in all the way to the hilt, making you keen. You forgot how to breathe, lungs drawing tight in your chest.
"Fuck," You manage to squeeze out.
Your palms push weakly at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself somehow. His head drops to the junction of your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply.
“You good?” He checks in, breath hot on your skin. As if your crying isnt enough.
“So g-good, Joel- Fuck- Youre so good.” 
With a little nod, Joels pushing himself up, switching to slow and deep strokes, really digging himself into you, and trying to find that spot he likes to call home.
He massages your chest, then squeezes your sides and your hips and finally, his thumb finds your clit. Immediately, you jolt. 
“Oh fuck-” 
“Quiet.” And he says it to keep the charade going, even though his favorite thing is hearing your sobs.
His thumb rubbing incessantly against your that sweet little nub of yours. You choke, and Joels chuckling, watching the way you squirm, body not knowing whether it should lean into his touch because its too good or away because its too much.
It starts with this firey feeling under the pad of his thumb, then deep inside your stuffed cunt. Youre going to cum. 
Your hands fly to your mouth again, and you get all wide eyed from the sensation. Its cute. Your muscles pull taut, legs locking around Joels hips. Youre wailing into your palm when it happens.
“Good girl,” His voice soothes you through it. “Very good.”
He pets away the fly aways sticking to your sweaty face when its over. Your eyes drop shut while you catch your breath. 
Joels moving again now. He rolls his hips a few times, and thumb is building the foundation of another orgasm in you. Youre shaking badly.
Your words slur too, “Cant- Too soon- Joel- Joel-”
“Another one.” Joel says firmly, but breathless. 
Youre gasping, not sure where to focus your eyes. The trees around you look like theyre spinning. Your attention is back on Joel, whos looking rather satisfied watching you squirm and cry. If thats how wants to play, then fine.
Your hands slide up Joels biceps, and rests on the nap of his neck to bring him down. “Juh-Joel,” You pant, cradling his face with both hands. “Youre so good- The best-”
Oh, Joel likes that one, you can tell by the way he looks away briefly. Shyness. Excitement runs up your spine. Joel loves being told hes doing well. 
“You are- Nghh-” You swallow the drool in your mouth, trying to get the words out clearly. “The best husband I could ever ask for.”
Joel wheezes, head dropping into the curve of your shoulder. “Please.”
“S’true,” You nod rapidly, fingers curling into his hair. “Youre so good to me and-and youre mine and- Joel-  Im yours.”
“Jesus-” He groans, soaking up the feeling of you pressing kisses to his face and up his jaw. 
“Hhah-  No one else can have me, okay? No one- Not even-”
The name doesnt even come out of your mouth before Joels coming to a stop to slip his arms all the way around your middle. With the new leverage he has on your body, hes drilling his way into you. You fucking squeal, rules now long forgotten. Youre a useless ragdoll in his arms and he wouldnt have it any other way.
Your lips are shiny with spit and left over lip gloss, and he can still taste the mintiness in his tongue. Every now and again your eyes drop shut, but his dick just punches into your guts a little harder. Look at me. 
Your brain is mush, just the way he likes it, and youre perfectly pliant in his arms, babbling over how good you feel. Hes kisses along the valley of your breasts now, stopping to suck the flesh of your nipples.
Youre just so pretty. Even when you have bedhead, or youre snotty from a cold, or youre all dirty from working in the garden  youre still so pretty. Including now, all sweaty with you lipgloss all smudged and your mascara starting to run. Youre perfect. 
Joel grunts loud, jaw clenched tight as he gets lost in the feeling of your insides. His perfect little wife.
When he cums, hes doubling over with a loud grunt, getting a few last thrusts in before his spent floods your cunt.
Youre blinking away your tears, now watching the clouds inch along the sky. It really is a beautiful day. You pet Joels sweaty hair, and kiss the side of his temple. Your core throbs faintly. Jesus, he did a number on you.
“Love,” You say softly, patting his back.
“Mm?”
“Get up.” Another pat. “Youre squishing me.” 
Joel backs off to buckle himself up, but you stay seated to catch your breath and adjust your dress. At least it didnt get ripped during all the… Commotion. Not like last time.
“I need my underwear back.”
“Nope,”
“Joel.”
He kisses the center of your forehead and helps you down from the bed and into the passenger seat instead.  “Told you i'm keepin’ ‘em.”
You sputter, “I cant go to barbecue commando!”
“Sure you can.” He pops open the glove compartment and gets out some tissues, hand snaking under your dress again to clean you. You sigh softly at the sensation.
“Youre the worst.”
“I am indeed the worst.” Joel pulls the seatbelt over your chest and clicks it in. “You can tell me all about it on the way to Tommys.” 
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ladyelainehilfur · 1 year ago
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Literally insane to me how small the general webtoon fandom is outside of the webtoon app itself (and maybe reddit??)
I've talked to multiple people irl who LOVE reading webtoon, but the online community is borderline threadbare ! Most people on Tumblr have no IDEA who our blorbos are! I've checked tags for some fairly popular webtoon and it was like visiting that Tatooine town in the Mandalorian where there are 5 citizens total, but only if you also count the Mayor, the sheriff, and the deputy.
Lore Olympus is the most popular webtoon and has under 2,000 fics on AO3. Lookism has roughly 1,000. Unordinary, THEE legacy webtoon, only has 600, and it's been running for almost 7 years now. It has nearly 6M subscribers and still gets 50K+ likes each week. It's not dead by any means.
I guess it doesn't help that each webtoon is its own micro ecosystem and once a webtoon ends, that ecosystem typically fades with it. But webtoons can go on runs longer than most shows on streaming services, and those fandoms burn hot and bright even if only for the first month of a new season drop.
By comparison, webtoon fans are largely casual about their enthusiasm, even if they're highly invested in the story or characters. From my experience, only the most passionate try to connect with other fans online. But when you're passionate about one webtoon, I suppose it's hard to show constant excitement about the 20+ other stories one might keep up with. Still, between the 85 million monthly readers, you'd think each major webtoon would at least have a dedicated fan base (meaning people who regularly post theories, thoughts, fics, and fanart) of mere thousands outside of the app.
One exception for this is that Batman webtoon? It actually trends on Tumblr every now and again. But it doesn't count, because Batman has a built in fandom who'll eat up and yell in the streets about any content where he's a decent dad.
People who read romance webtoon all tend to read the same comics, and actively understand the references to other popular romance comics (Trashta, Team Seojun, SLS), so you'd think there'd be a greater sense of unity. More people actively searching out others to discuss with and posting their thoughts online and not just in that webtoon's comment section.
I mean, C'MON girls!!! Millions of people log into that app like everyday!!! WHERE is the community?? WHERE is the fanart?? WHERE is the fanfic?? WHY does Odd Girl Out only have 7 fanfics?? WHY are there like 2 people on Twitter posting about Weak Hero?? Head in hands fr
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