#but the story itself is well structured

[prettyboykatsuki]

bnha is so overhated bro boooo

[nat-20s]

In terms of a show liking women I think there's two ways that shows typically tend to like women and it's "the women get to be treated as people with equal or greater complexities as any male characters" and/or the show holding up their female characters and going "I just think they're neat :-)" and honestly I can respect both.

[sprucestairs]

oooooh pokemon company want to put all their energy into z-a sooooo bad. You will not release a half assed johto or unova game you want soooo badly to make a good game that everyone enjoys.

[lemonduckisnowawake]

"What's your kill count?" "How many people did you manage to off?"

What about how many people did you save, huh? How many lives were rescued for the better by your actions? How many people did you free from tragedy?

[imwritesometimes]

when you have to stop reading fic so you don't run out before you can re-watch the blorbo source material 🙃

[supplimental]

gritting my teeth fingers clawed into my thighs in a death grip reciting I wont listen to the Penumbra Podcast again to see if it gets better I wont listen to the Penumbra Podcast again to see if it gets better I w

[llycaons]

so the climax in this book involves mass protests that are threatening to turn violent over an act of vandalism on a sacred space of the indigenous religion and at least the cop guy is pissed enough about it that he's actually considering siding with his people for once instead of 'trying to help from inside the system' but he's also going around telling people 'yeah I agree but this isn't the way to go' like there's any other fucking way for these people to express themselves or gain any autonomy at ALL in this society? they have no say or role in the government, they live as second-class citizens in literally universal poverty and servitude, and no institutions seem to even bother to pretend they have rights equal to the colonizers. government, legal, and military officials are blatantly racist and corrupt. what the fuck else are they SUPPOSED to do? there's some structure with the clan elders meeting with the city heads, but the elders don't have have any authority within the city so what's that even going to do? violent riots though. that could potentially push the nobles to act. like that is the ONLY thing!

[silhouettelover]

the thing that's difficult to explain about tenjo tenge is that while the plot isn't necessarily the most innovative ever by the end of it oh! great is just constantly drawing something fucking awesome with no explanation and throwing out iconic compositions like my cover image just because he wants to... there's that quote of him talking about how he draws horny art of women because it's fun but you can really tell that he actually feels that way about everything else he draws just as much lol. he's such a sick artist

[derinwrites]

The Three Commandments

The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.

Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And

The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.

1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say

What’s your book about?

I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?

The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).

Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)

Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?

2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment

Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.

Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.

Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.

The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.

But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.

If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.

3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting

This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.

“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?

Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?

If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.

Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?

Hopefully these can help you, too.

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[tanaor]

Want simple tips to heavily improve your skills with character voice??

(📝Note: character voice is the way you convey your character's personality though their pov or dialogue when you write. No two characters speak the same📝)

I speak from experience when I say character voice is hard to get right. Characters, like people, have lots of layers that affect the way they see the world around them and how they interact with other characters. That's why character voice is so important in stories, and why if you write it in a compelling and effective way it will hook people into your story. I hope you learn something new in this post!!

When writing character voice, there's a list of things that you should take into account:

Where are they from? Their past and what they've lived plays a huge part in character voice. Maybe your character grew by the ocean, and so they compare things from the present to the beach, the rocks or the sea itself. You will rarely read about a sailor that is an expert in pants and compares scents to flowers. They might, instead, talk about how a house smells like the wet wood of a ship.

Think about how their personality shapes their language. If they are insecure, they might end most of their sentences with "isn't it?" or "right?" and ask a lot of questions, whereas if you have a confident character, you might find them saying things like "we should do this" or "that will be fun" instead.

What their "lense" is. This is more of an ethic aspect of the character. What have they learn it's okay, and what do they find uncomfortable? Would they find it gross if their friend left laundry on the floor?

Give them special traits (both for dialogue and narration). Maybe character A quotes a lot when they narrate and uses long paragraphs, or maybe B speaks about their past a lot and uses popular sayings. Personally, one character of mine has the tendency to repeat himself when he speaks, as in "yeah, yeah, I'll do it" or "no, no, no. Never" because he is really enthusiastic, and it fits really well with his character.

Pay attention to how they would talk about themselves. Maybe your character doesn't like people to know they're sad because it makes them feel vulnerable, so they will just say they feel annoyed or don't want to talk in that moment. This also means that they will not tell the reader something they are not comfortable saying in the first place.

How is their education? Education is also very important in this context. Did they went to university and have a rich vocabulary and structured sentences, or where they rised in a little farm far from town? You can also play with both a bit: maybe your character did go to university, but maybe they also came from a low income family, and characteristic of both things merge when they talk. Example: long, structured, sentences but a simple and sight forward vocabulary.

That's all for now and happy writing!!

Other tips for writers: previous | next

[nasa]

Roman's primary structure hangs from cables as it moves into the big clean room at NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center.

What Makes the Clean Room So Clean?

When you picture NASA’s most important creations, you probably think of a satellite, telescope, or maybe a rover. But what about the room they’re made in? Believe it or not, the room itself where these instruments are put together—a clean room—is pretty special. 

A clean room is a space that protects technology from contamination. This is especially important when sending very sensitive items into space that even small particles could interfere with.

There are two main categories of contamination that we have to keep away from our instruments. The first is particulate contamination, like dust. The second is molecular contamination, which is more like oil or grease. Both types affect a telescope’s image quality, as well as the time it takes to capture imagery. Having too many particles on our instruments is like looking through a dirty window. A clean room makes for clean science!

Two technicians clean the floor of Goddard’s big clean room.

Our Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland has the largest clean room of its kind in the world. It’s as tall as an eight-story building and as wide as two basketball courts.

Goddard’s clean room has fewer than 3,000 micron-size particles per cubic meter of air. If you lined up all those tiny particles, they’d be no longer than a sesame seed. If those particles were the size of 16-inch (0.4-meter) inflatable beach balls, we’d find only 3,000 spread throughout the whole body of Mount Everest!

A clean room technician observes a sample under a microscope.

The clean room keeps out particles larger than five microns across, just seven percent of the width of an average human hair. It does this via special filters that remove around 99.97% of particles 0.3 microns and larger from incoming air. Six fans the size of school buses spin to keep air flowing and pressurize the room. Since the pressure inside is higher, the clean air keeps unclean air out when doors open.

A technician analyzes a sample under ultraviolet light.

In addition, anyone who enters must wear a “bunny suit” to keep their body particles away from the machinery. A bunny suit covers most of the person inside. Sometimes scientists have trouble recognizing each other while in the suits, but they do get to know each other’s mannerisms very well.

This illustration depicts the anatomy of a bunny suit, which covers clean room technicians from head to toe to protect sensitive technology.

The bunny suit is only the beginning: before putting it on, team members undergo a preparation routine involving a hairnet and an air shower. Fun fact – you’re not allowed to wear products like perfume, lotion, or deodorant. Even odors can transfer easily!

Six of Goddard’s clean room technicians (left to right: Daniel DaCosta, Jill Bender, Anne Martino, Leon Bailey, Frank D’Annunzio, and Josh Thomas).

It takes a lot of specialists to run Goddard’s clean room. There are 10 people on the Contamination Control Technician Team, 30 people on the Clean Room Engineering Team to cover all Goddard missions, and another 10 people on the Facilities Team to monitor the clean room itself. They check on its temperature, humidity, and particle counts.

A technician rinses critical hardware with isopropyl alcohol and separates the particulate and isopropyl alcohol to leave the particles on a membrane for microscopic analysis.

Besides the standard mopping and vacuuming, the team uses tools such as isopropyl alcohol, acetone, wipes, swabs, white light, and ultraviolet light. Plus, they have a particle monitor that uses a laser to measure air particle count and size.

The team keeping the clean room spotless plays an integral role in the success of NASA’s missions. So, the next time you have to clean your bedroom, consider yourself lucky that the stakes aren’t so high!

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[decolonize-the-everything]

Why are they mining so much right now?

Cobalt has become the center of a major upsurge in mining in Congo, and the rapid acceleration of cobalt extraction in the region since 2013 has brought hundreds of thousands of people into intimate contact with a powerful melange of toxic metals. The frantic pace of cobalt extraction in Katanga bears close resemblance to another period of rapid exploitation of Congolese mineral resources: During the last few years of World War II, the U.S. government sourced the majority of the uranium necessary to develop the first atomic weapons from a single Congolese mine, named Shinkolobwe. The largely forgotten story of those miners, and the devastating health and ecological impacts uranium production had on Congo, looms over the country now as cobalt mining accelerates to feed the renewable energy boom—with little to no protections for workers involved in the trade.

The city of Kolwezi, which is 300 km (186 miles) northwest of Lubumbashi and 180 km from the now-abandoned Shinkolobwe mine, sits on top of nearly half of the available cobalt in the world. The scope of the contemporary scramble for that metal in Katanga has totally transformed the region. Enormous open-pit mines worked by tens of thousands of miners form vast craters in the landscape and are slowly erasing the city itself.

[...]Much of the cobalt in Congo is mined by hand: Workers scour the surface level seams with picks, shovels, and lengths of rebar, sometimes tunneling by hand 60 feet or more into the earth in pursuit of a vein of ore. This is referred to as artisanal mining, as opposed to the industrial mining carried out by large firms. The thousands of artisanal miners who work at the edges of the formal mines run by big industrial concerns make up 90 percent of the nation’s mining workforce and produce 30 percent of its metals. Artisanal mining is not as efficient as larger-scale industrial mining, but since the miners produce good-quality ore with zero investment in tools, infrastructure, or safety, the ore they sell to buyers is as cheap as it gets. Forced and child labor in the supply chain is not uncommon here, thanks in part to a significant lack of controls and regulations on artisanal mining from the government.

[...]When later atomic research found that uranium’s unstable nucleus could be used to make a powerful bomb, the U.S. Army’s Manhattan Project began searching for a reliable source of uranium. They found it through Union Minière, which sold the United States the first 1,000 tons it needed to get the bomb effort off the ground.

The Manhattan Project sent agents of the OSS, precursor to the CIA, to Congo from 1943 to 1945 to supervise the reopening of the mine and the extraction of Shinkolobwe’s ore—and to make sure none of it fell into the hands of the Axis powers. Every piece of rock that emerged from the mine for almost two decades was purchased by the Manhattan Project and its successors in the Atomic Energy Commission, until the mine was closed by the Belgian authorities on the eve of Congolese independence in 1960. After that, the colonial mining enterprise Union Minière became the national minerals conglomerate Gécamines, which retained much of the original structure and staff.

[...]Dr. Lubaba showed me the small battery-operated Geiger counters that he uses in the field to measure radioactivity. He had begun the process of trying to find and interview the descendants of the Shinkolobwe miners, but he explained that tracing the health consequences of working in that specific mine would be difficult: Many long-established villages in the area have been demolished and cast apart as cobalt extraction has torn through the landscape. His initial inquiries suggested that at least some of the descendants of the Shinkolobwe miners had been drawn into the maelstrom of digging in the region around Kolwezi.

In her book Being Nuclear: Africans and the Global Uranium Trade, historian Gabrielle Hecht recounts the U.S. Public Health Service’s efforts to investigate the effects of uranium exposure on people who worked closely with the metal and the ore that bore it. In 1956, a team of medical researchers from the PHS paid a visit to Shinkolobwe while the mine was still producing more than half of the uranium used in America’s Cold War missile programs. Most of their questions went unanswered, however, as Shinkolobwe’s operators had few official records to share and stopped responding to communications as soon as the researchers left.

[...]“Don’t ever use that word in anybody’s presence. Not ever!” Williams quotes OSS agent Wilbur Hogue snapping at a subordinate who had said the mine’s name in a café in Congo’s capital. “There’s something in that mine that both the United States and Germany want more than anything else in the world. I don’t know what it’s for. We’re not supposed to know.”

[tryslora]

On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes

Today I want to talk about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). This post is inspired by a few recent events:

Once, a long time ago, I read a blog post that said “if you can write a combat scene, you can write a sex scene” and that was mind-blowing for me because while I was well-versed in writing erotica, I couldn’t write combat to save my life.

More recently, at Boskone, I participated on a panel about writing combat, and the research involved there-in.

Even more recently, I had someone look at me say, “You’re not a gay guy. How do you write gay sex scenes?”

So. Let’s begin.

I get it—sex and combat aren’t interchangeable. But at their core, they have some strong similarities which can be leveraged while writing. Both are intense, high drama, and can involve a lot of anxiety and quick thought. Both tend to narrow focus down to the moment and the current feeling and action. Both are heightened emotion and physical reaction. Both can involve actions that lie outside the author’s personal experience.

I started writing erotica when I was a freshman in college. I posted it online (does anyone remember rec.arts.erotica?) and was surprised (and pleased) by the compliments I received. Turned out my readers were not expecting the idea of emotion being entangled in their erotica. They were invested emotionally in how the stories went, and how my characters felt. Since I was writing from the point of view that made sense to me at the time, they were het stories from a female perspective, and they were very focused on the emotional connections and how the physical events heightened those emotions.

Male readers were surprised by the intensity of the feelings that these stories gave them (as opposed to pure arousal). It got me thinking about how I wrote, and why I wrote, and I tried to talk about it some at the time. I was eighteen. I was still a new writer. The internet itself was new. I wasn’t entirely certain how to frame it, but I remember getting one comment where a guy was surprised at how struck he’d been by the moment in the scene where everything shuddered to a halt due to an event in the story that interrupted the action, and I replied that that was because I wasn’t writing about the sex. I was writing about the character’s reaction to the sex.

Which has always been how I write. At the time, that was my only tool: put myself in the character’s mind, and write what they feel. If that’s affection and attraction and physical reaction, write that. Tangle it up, and hope the reader feels that entanglement.

Now, fast forward several years, and take a little side trip onto a tangent wherein I learned something very important about writing craft.

I was reading Syne Mitchell’s End in Fire, I think it was, and I kept having panic attacks. Now, I did most of my reading late, often when I woke in the middle of the night due to stress, or just because my brain refused to rest. I was in a rough place in life in general, with a lot of external work stuff going on and very small children. I wasn’t sleeping well. And it took me some time to figure out why I was struggling to read a book which I actually loved (and when I read it later in life, I enjoyed it greatly).

It was the sentence structure.

In order to induce the emotion of the scene, the sentences were short. Sharp. Quick. There was no time for the reader to breathe, much like there was no time for the heroine to do anything but act. The reader was caught up in the rising tension, to the point where my anxious, sleep-deprived brain, caught a panic attack from it.

The technique was brilliant.

Now back to our original timeline, wherein I read a post about how if you can write combat, you can write sex scenes. This post assumed that more people felt comfortable writing violence than sex. I was the reverse. I’d been writing about sex for over a decade when I saw this post, and it made a light bulb go off in my brain.

If writing sex was like writing combat… was the reverse also true? Could I improve my skills at writing battles by analyzing what worked when I wrote erotica?

So I tried doing just that. Back then, I found combat overwhelming. There was so much going on, and I was trying so hard to write good description that I lost all of the intensity. I was focusing on everything that was going on at the same time.

Thinking about how sex scenes were all intense emotion and narrowed focus, I applied that to my combat scenes. I wrote only what the point of view character experienced, and tied everything to their actions and reactions. I thought about how they breathed, how they moved, how they thought. I used those short, sharp sentences as they processed the scene. 

That doesn’t mean I forgot about everything else going on in the scene. That’s impossible. After all, in any story the things the character doesn’t pay attention to might be as important as the things they do focus on. Stuff still happens, and there is still fallout. I needed to know what else was happening so that if the character moved from one place to another, or did something that put them in the path of a different part of the action, I could have them start processing it.

But it also meant that on the page, out of sight was out of mind. Everything narrowed down to the now. The immediacy. Suddenly my combat scenes snapped into focus.

During the panel at Boskone, all of the panelists had experience with different fighting styles (fencing, street combat, and of course, me with taekwondo). I spoke about how for me, that narrow focus is very real when I spar. I know there are some people who naturally see a move or two ahead while fighting; I don’t. I am stuck in act and react mode. Can I kick them now? Can I attempt a head shot? Oh, no, circle back and away or they’re going to hit me… that’s how my brain works during a sparring match.

It’s not like a total blackout—there should be a vague awareness of things around the character. Sounds in particular, or sometimes flashes of movement. Something distracting can catch the attention of the fighter, but the personal fight will always pull the character back.

Combat feels easy when I’m writing like that.

Of course, there’s still the question of writing about something if I’ve never experienced it. As someone did point out to me: I am not a gay man, so how does that affect writing sex scenes? I’ve also never fought with a sword. Brawled. Fought from horseback. I have, however, held a blade, shot a gun, shot an arrow, rode a horse. I have a vague idea of how these things work, much like I have a working knowledge of sex in general.

So yes, research gets involved. Sometimes research is observational, sometimes it’s reading (there’s so much good stuff out there). I highly recommend video for combat scenes—find things that have the feel that you’re going for, then put yourself in the place of the character you want to write about. Practice. Work through the ideas of how things fit together, and what your character will (and will not!) know during the fight.

If you need to, stand up and block the scene by thinking about how you would experience it. What can you see, and what is out of sight? If someone is coming at you with a blade, what are your options? How do height differences affect you? Yes, I have asked friends and husband to help me block scenes. 

“Stand right there and show me what it looks like if you punch me. Okay, so if I do this then…” Yeah. It’s a thing. But it works.

When doing your research, remember that movie fighting (and hell, movie sex scenes) isn’t realistic. It’s meant to look good. For combat, if you can find re-enactments, or sparring videos, I highly recommend taking a look at those. 

Anyway, the point is: I don’t have to have shot someone, and I don’t have to have had gay sex in order to write about them. What I do need to know is how it feels emotionally to do those things, and I can extrapolate that from what I do know. I need to know enough about the details so I can get it right, and that’s where research will help me. Also, use language to create emotion. Because emotions are where we grab the reader, and how we pull them into the scene.

Combat and sex aren’t so different when it comes to writing, and the personal experience. Now, go forth and write!

[genericpuff]

holy crap okay so

I'm two episodes into Kaos

normally I keep my expectations pretty minimal because, let's be real, the Internet - and especially Tumblr - has a tendency to severely overhype new series to be way better than they actually are and it often leaves me sitting there like "that's it? that's what people were freaking out over for weeks?? that was just a bunch of cheap ships and tropes that i've seen 123785902380 times before" LMAO

BUT thankfully compared to other series like Hazbin Hotel and The Amazing Digital Circus, I haven't been worn out on excessive fandom exposure prior to watching Kaos, so I didn't really know what to expect going in besides what folks have told me so far - it's a modern-day Greek epic, and it stars Jeff Goldblum as Zeus (which is, unsurprisingly, peak casting).

That said, I'm very pleased to say that so far, the show is absolutely blowing me away. The set designs, characterizations, weaving of all the players into a central narrative led by a very coy narrator, all of it feels both refreshing and respectful to the source material at the same time.

so uh yeah that LO animated TV show... we have reason to believe now that it's gotten picked up by Amazon Prime, at least according to the showrunner's LinkedIn and posting history from February of this year that seems to imply LO may have been picked up by Amazon-

(but still, nothing's really been confirmed because they're being so tight-lipped about this you'd almost think it's because there isn't a show happening at all cough)

But even then, that means at best we still won't see anything of the LO TV show adaption for another 2-3 years, depending on how production goes.

Why am I talking about LO right now? Well it should be obvious - Kaos double-whammied LO by beating it to the punch at its own game.

I mean, just look at the creative choices alone in the design of the Underworld and its rulers, our beloved Hades and Persephone.

And yes, the entire Underworld is color-graded like this, something so simple and yet effective in communicating the nature of the Underworld and what it stands for - a place where the past lives on through the dead, paused in time, devoid of the vibrant color grading found in Olympus - or "Olympia" as its been named in this retelling - which is, by the way, a visual treat to take in every time it's featured.

(and yes, that is S-tier-companion Billie Piper on the left, but I will not tell you who she's playing, you actually really should go into this show as blind as possible for the thrill of figuring out these characters as they're introduced <3)

That's not even getting into the narrative structure of the plot itself or the phenomenal casting and acting, but again, I don't want to spoil too much as the show is quite new, and I want to actually finish watching the show myself before I get more into the details of its story and how it delivers it (I'm very much hoping I will still be singing this show's praises at the end of its 8 episodes, please for the love of god don't jump the shark, I don't think my heart can take that kind of pain again.)

All that's to say though, Kaos is, so far, exactly what us disappointed fans of LO deserve after all these years, and frankly, I feel like whatever is coming for the LO animated TV show is really gonna have to step up to the plate to both live up to the bar that Kaos has set as well as stand on its own without being affiliated as a cheap Amazon knockoff living in its shadow. Sounds a little familiar and a bit ironic, doesn't it?

[pascalssbabyy]

Missing You

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Word Count: 9.3k

Summary: Joel’s been taking extra late night shifts patrolling and with you working in the mornings you barely see him. Joel comes back from patrol early one night and can’t miss the opportunity to show you how much he misses you.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, no use of Y/N, back story of how reader and Joel met, Ellie and Sarah are mentioned, age gap (not specified), soft!Joel (he’s so in love 🥲), also slight dom!Joel, soft!reader, somnophilia, wet hair Joel (don’t argue that’s a warning in itself), slight pain kink? (seriously blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, pet names, F!masturbation, M!maturbation, Joel’s hung (obvs), F!oral receiving, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), creampie.

Hi everyone! It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted a story on here, unfortunately work life is taking up most of my time. But here we are! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Lots of love 🤍🫶

The past few weeks had been beyond exhausting, returning home from a long and draining days work had quickly become the worst part of your day. Having to spend hours finishing up all of your end of day tasks at the coffee shop to then walk back to your shared home with just the sound of your inner voice echoing through the empty halls and your heavy boots treading across the old wooden floor of your front room. The space that surrounded you the moment your tired body entered the house would constantly remind you that it was going to be another wasted evening spent on your own. You hated how isolated it made you feel when it was just yourself there, the familiar furniture and décor dispersed in front of you feeling somewhat unknown to you when the silence enveloped it, making that anxious knot to tighten inside your chest and a state of loneliness to cloud it’s way into your thoughts.

This should the time where you’d get back from a long and stressful shift at work with that well known feeling of security bubbling within yourself, knowing that Joel and Ellie would be at home patiently waiting for you. They were always there, ready to listen to everything that you needed to express, filling them both in with the gossip and nonsense that happened while you were on shift. They always knew just what to say and do to bring back that spark and rinse away those anxiety-ridden emotions that scattered your mind.

But instead, you were stuck in your own line of thoughts once again, neither of them to be seen as your gaze wonders over the structure of your front room, the silence that surrounds you becoming almost too much to bare, the space abruptly putting your life on a complete standstill.

Your home wasn’t much, but with all the effort you and Joel had put into it was all so worth it, you adored the way it had turned out; Ellie’s paintings that filled up the emptiness on the walls and Joel’s guitar sitting in the corner, you could still hear the sound of strumming as it lingered in the air, the vibrations being felt on your skin, causing your chest to tighten.

This repetitive routine had been the bane of your life for the past month; getting home from work feeling completely and utterly worn out and it getting even worse when you’d forget that you’d be on your own once you got there. You’d start doing a few chores around the house to make up time, again, still on your own, have a shower that you’d hope would wash away the constant stress off your skin, and ending the day by getting into bed, which was supposed to be shared with one other but at the moment, he was never there.

Ellie would show up from time to time, always coming by for a quick catch up to see how you and Joel were getting on. Ever since she’d met Dina you’d see less of her around the house. She was finally becoming more like her true herself again which was so incredible to see, adoring the way she had settled in. But that didn’t stop you from missing her dearly, her personality filling up so much of the space in the house.

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, sighing to yourself as you notice it’s just hit midnight, the days going by in the blink of an eye. You’d just had your shower, wrapping a soft towel around your chest, your bare calves hit the back of the wooden frame as you sit on the edge of the bed, finishing off with lightly moisturising your freshly cleaned skin.

You’d usually be asleep by now but you wanted to stay up in hopes of hearing those familiar footsteps walking up the stairs and into your bedroom, desperately needing to see that face that would instantly take that heavy weight off your shoulders. Hoping to see that particular smile that would always make you weak at the knees and that southern, deep drawl filling your ears. But right now, the sound of your never ending doubts were still lingering on but somehow even louder this time, awakening the memory that you were in fact, still alone.

Ever since Joel had made his way into your small world it had become the best thing that could’ve happened to you. This house may give you security and a roof over your head but it was Joel and Ellie who made it a home, them being apart of your life was completely unexpected but the greatest circumstance you’d ever come across. You were so grateful that Jackson had brought you together. Being the one on shift that day when Joel walked into the coffee shop for the first time was a blessing in disguise. The memory bringing a smile to your face.

3 months ago 🍃🍃🍃

When you arrived in Jackson you never expected it to be so hard for you to adjust to. Being there for almost a year and you’d still struggle to be around people, your anxiety always getting the best of you. You didn’t have many people in the town that you’d consider close friends and you knew that was your fault, knowing that you should be put yourself out there but still hadn’t developed the courage to. The memories of your life before Jackson was hard to go back too, the harsh thoughts of how you’d survived the outside world continuously haunting you, but yet you’d still battle with getting used to being around a community that supported one another as much as the people of Jackson did. The job at the coffee shop definitely gave you that extra boost of confidence that you needed, meeting so many new faces that walked through the doors and being able to talk and create friendships with all different types of people that you’d serve throughout the day. You started to feel like you were finally getting somewhere with life in Jackson, that heavy weight gradually lifting off your shoulders.

The moment Joel walked through the doors you’d never felt more sure of anything.

The sound of the entrance door opening turned your attention away from the task you were currently occupied with, ready to prepare yourself for your very first customer of the day. At first glance you couldn’t help the tightness coursing it’s way through your chest, your breath hitching in your throat from just his sheer presence in the room, his demeanour instantly making you flustered.

The initial thought that came to your mind was that you hadn’t seen him around before, at this point you knew almost everyone in Jackson so he could’ve possibly been a newcomer. You could tell by his stance that he felt uncomfortable in this sort of environment; his hands were shoved down his two front pockets and his attention was held on the ground below him, his hefty boots creaking across the floor. Your glance made its way to his frame first; he was extremely broad, his shoulders were wide and were enveloped in a thick brown coat, the attire definitely looked too tight for his vast frame. From what you could see his upper arms looked thick and muscular and he wore distressed blue jeans that hugged his thighs so deliciously. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wondering up his body and as the second you took in his facial features you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips.

He was attractive, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen; he had a strong facial structure, his nose shaping the rest of his face so perfectly. His stubble and thick curly hair both held soft streaks of grey, showing you that he was definitely much older than yourself and someone you definitely shouldn’t be looking at in the way that you were. His features held a ruggedness to it, revealing that he’d unquestionably been through a rough life, dealing with the pain of the world he’d now been living in for the past few decades. He looked intimidating; his facial expressions showing nothing but disapproval, but yet he had the softest brown eyes, the contrast between the two was so striking to you. The moment his stare locked onto yours you couldn’t help but feel weak, him bringing an unknown feeling out of you. The reaction should make you nervous but instead it excited you massively.

“Mornin’, uh— just a black americano, no sugar please.”

He looked like a pure black americano type of guy, no milk added to it and no sugar to sweeten it, his order matching his look perfectly. You wished he ordered something more adventurous so you could see him for longer, stare at him for as long as he’d let you, with his broad frame and well structured face. He was captivating.

If it was just an americano he wanted, then you were going to make it the best fucking americano he’d ever have.

Even with his lack of vocabulary, the second his voice left his lips you were a goner, sounding so deep and husky with a slight southern twist to it. You tried to hide your disappointed when he didn’t share another word as he waited there awkwardly for you to make his coffee. His uneasy stance made you softly smirk, yeah you thought— he definitely wasn’t used be being around people. Your breath would get stuck in your throat when his touch would subtly graze yours, his warmth radiating back onto you as he retrieved the hot cup of coffee from your hands. You noticed his hands were much bigger than yours, with scars scattering the ridges of his knuckle, making the cup look so small and delicate in his grasp, causing your body to shiver. The anticipation of possibly seeing this mystery man walking into your work again was becoming the best part of you shift. Even if the interaction wasn’t long, you couldn’t help the butterflies to flutter deep down inside your stomach, his absence still lingering in the air.

You saw him everyday after that, victory coursing through your veins knowing that he liked your coffee that much that he needed it every morning from the second he took that very first sip. He’d waltz in at the same time each day, he’d order the same coffee and nothing more. But as each day went on you’d notice his shoulders weren’t as tight as they were the first time he walked in, that short vocabulary of his had now expanded and he’d now sit on one of the tables in the far corner instead of leaving straight away with his coffee in his hands. Seeing him sit there in his own little world and watching his face relax with each sip of his drink made pride fill your chest. Possibly knowing that you’d given him that little taste of a life full of content, a world where there wasn’t an apocalypse, no worries to cage his thoughts.

You were surprised that after a few weeks of serving him he finally found the confidence to tell you his name. “My names Joel, Joel Miller.” Fuck the name matched him so perfectly. It sounded strong when it flowed seamlessly off his lips, suiting his persona to a tee.

You imagined what he was like when he’d open himself up to the people he held closest to him, maybe under that harsh exterior held a man who deeply cared about the friends and family members in his life. What would he be like with you if he got to know you more? Would he let himself be vulnerable with you? Would he maybe be open in having some sort of relationship with someone in his new life? Was he even that type of guy?

Everyday you wished that he thought about you the way you constantly thought about him.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

“Just go there brother. She makes a great cup of coffee, the best in town I put my hand on my heart.” Tommy’s sat opposite Joel in the cafeteria, the both of them delving into their breakfast. “Come on, when was the last time y’had a decent cup of coffee?”

Joel groans at his younger brother. He hated to admit it but he fucking missed drinking a decent cup of coffee. Before the outbreak he’d never miss having one in the morning with his breakfast, the sharp taste instantly calming his grubby mood. Joel hated mornings, and even 20 years later it hadn’t changed, it always being the worst part of his day. Tommy knew deep down that Joel’s issue wasn’t giving the coffee a try but the fact that he’d have to interact with people other than Tommy and Ellie.

Joel definitely wasn’t a people person.

“Go there tomorrow morning, she’s usually quiet on wednesdays so you don’t have to worry about seein’ anyone. Need to get y’self out there Joel. She ain’t gonna bite y’head off.”

Tommy knew how to persuade his brother with almost anything. Joel was a stubborn guy, and was exactly the same when he was younger. Some things just simply never change. All he needed to do was pester him every second of the day until he couldn’t take it anymore, it pissed Joel off massively but knew it always worked.

Joel simply huffs, “fuck sake Tommy fine. I’ll go tomorrow but that’s it! One time only, probably ain’t as nice as y’say.”

Tommy smirks, “mmm we’ll see brother, we’ll see.”

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Of course Tommy was right, he was always fucking right. The second the coffee hit his tastebuds he knew he’d never go another day without it. The flavour was strong, sweet but had that earthy bitterness to it. Fuck it tasted so good, reminded him of being back home in Texas, waking up in the morning with Sarah sat by his side as she ate her pancakes. The memory should hurt but yet gave him a sense of warmth inside, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. But what Joel never expected was that the moment he walked into the coffee shop that morning is when he’d first get acquainted with you.

He couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were; your skin looked so soft and radiant as the sun coming in from the windows rested on top of it. Your hair was tied up in a bun that framed your face to perfection. You had the most welcoming smile and you were so polite, even at the very beginning when he knew he could’ve been more kinder himself. Joel started to become nervous around you and at some points you even made him flustered, your overall attitude bringing something new out of him.

You were both complete opposites, initially that’s what Joel liked about it. Joel fed off your radiance, reminding him that this fucked up world was only fucked up if only he wanted it to be, maybe Jackson wasn’t as bad as he thought it was.

The more Joel stopped by at the coffee shop he soon realised that the coffee wasn’t the main reason he went, but in fact he wanted to see you.

He needed to see you.

Joel had to be blind to not notice the way you looked at him, the way your eyes would linger longer than they should and cringe when you’d get caught by his stare, your reaction making him smirk softly to himself. Joel had his fair share of women coming up to him every once in a while and heard all the comments about him; ‘Have ya seen Tommy’s brother? Shit he’s good looking,’ or ‘wouldn’t mind if he took me home.’ Don’t get him wrong he secretly didn’t mind the attention but Joel simply never had the time or in fact had any sort of interest for it, kindly rejecting there offers. It wasn’t until you came into his life that Joel started to question himself and his own beliefs. He knew his feelings were reciprocated but just didn’t think he was brave enough to do something about it.

A couple weeks later Joel eventually made a final decision and thought, fuck it.

Finally getting the balls to ask you out and doing it in Joel’s complete out of practice way, he’d offer you to do something outside of work, with him. It had been too long since Joel had ever been put in this type of situation, knowing he was a little rusty in the dating department. Your reaction to his words may have been a look of surprise but he knew deep down that you’ve wanted him to say that for a while. A few outings with each other would then turn into daily meets up, trying to accompany each others time tables so you could spend as much time as you could together without work getting in the way.

Joel had thought he’d lost that romantic side of himself decades ago, believing an apocalypse wasn’t really the place to find or do something like that, his only goal being survival and simply not getting killed. But somehow knowing that you’d felt that way about him sparked that unknown desire back into him, needing you in a way he never needed anyone before.

Present Day 🍃🍃🍃

The memories of the past few months with Joel should bring content and happiness to you, but right now the thoughts are only making it harder to swallow the feeling of lose from your throat. The coldness from the night air silently flows through the gap of your opened window, the coolness bringing you back to reality, goosebumps rising on the skin of your arms that are holding the towel up close to your chest.

You know Joel couldn’t help it and you’d never place any blame of him. There had been some suspicious tracks leading to Jackson, so Tommy needed a few extra people to assist with patrol duty but didn’t have the amount of hands or participants to cope, leaving Joel to take up more shifts and even longer days than he’d usually do. You and Joel both knew he needed to calm down, knowing he wasn’t the young man he once was but you knew he felt a need to prove to Tommy that he was still capable, wanting to help out the people of the community as much as he could.

To keep you and Ellie safe.

The routine wasn’t going to be going on for much longer, just until the tension outside Jackson had calmed down and that they knew that it was safe to go back to normal. Then Joel could go back to his normal schedule, a schedule where he was spending every evening and night with you, it being his favourite way to end his long days and you being the last thing he sees before sleep takes over his limp body.

This thought is what makes you go on. Knowing that you’d soon get him back all to yourself. Once you’ve finished moisturising you grab some fresh pants from the top drawer of your bedside table and pick out one of Joel’s flannels to wear from the wardrobe. No matter how many times you’d wash it you could still smell his musky scent on the material, bringing the collar up to your nose and inhaling deeply as the smell of Joel envelopes your nostrils. You lie on top of the covers and close your eyes, picturing Joel’s body lying next to yours whilst he cages you in his big arms, his stubble scratching the side of your jaw. The image of him behind your eyelids and his scent surrounds your body completely, feeling the sudden wetness pool in between your legs, aching for his touch.

You miss him so much it hurts. It had been been a while since you’d both been intimate with one another and as each day goes by the feeling deep in your core intensifies, yearning for release.

Your one hand travels down your stomach and dips under your panties which have quickly become soaked with your arousal. You start gliding two of your digits through your soaked folds, covering them in your sweet release. Your breath hitches in your throat as your fingers gently travel up and swirl around your sensitive bundle of nerves, lightly moving them in small figure eights. You picture Joel above you, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly as you imagine it’s his calloused fingers instead of yours. His digits were much thicker and longer, reaching up inside you like no other and pulling orgasm upon orgasm from your aching cunt. You imagine the words he’d whisper to you; his warm mouth against your ear as he tells you how good you are for him and how well you’re taking what he gives you. The moment you slip two of your fingers in your dripping heat you know you’ll be close to coming, already feeling that tight knot in your lower stomach. Your mouths agape as small, breathless whimpers escape your lips, the tip of your fingers hitting your g-spot. As your one hand fucks your deprived cunt your other moves under yours— Joel’s flannel to caress your breasts, your skin feeling hot from the touch of your fingers travelling up your body. Your palms and fingers start massaging the skin of my breast, tweaking your nipples to add to the intense pleasure you’re giving yourself. Joel loved your breasts, you’d imagine him giving them as much attention as he could, swirling his tongue around each nipple, sucking on the skin and making sure he leaves marks on each part his lips touch.

He knew the small purple blemishes across your skin showed you who you really belonged to, and he knew you secretly loved it, being claimed by him.

Your breathing becomes frantic, “yes Joel right there—,” the image of Joel behind your eyelids and your hand in between your legs is so intensifying and without any warning you’re coming all over your fingers, feeling the inside of your walls pulsing around the soaked digits. Joel’s name leaves your lips as a state of euphoria completely takes over your body, your legs twitching from the immense pleasure. You continue to fuck yourself through your high, needing to feel as much pleasure as you can. You can hear Joel’s praises ringing in your ear like he’s there with you in the room.

You’re such a good girl f’me aren’t you.

Fuck I feel your pussy clenching my fingers baby.

She’s so desperate f’me isn’t she.

Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.

Even though your fingers would slowly fade that aching between your legs you knew it wouldn’t take long for it to creep it’s way back into your core, Joel being the only one to satisfy the craving completely.

Once you’ve come down from your high the quiet and darkness surrounds you once again. You wanted to wait up for Joel but you can’t stop the silence making it’s way back into your thoughts, needing the sleep to course your mind in hopes of getting a few hours peace from the weeks of stress you’ve unintentionally given yourself.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

Joel should have been back home from patrol duty hours ago. For the past month, patrolling had been tough for everyone involved, and it had quickly become much more strict in its rules, making people more aware of the threats surrounding Jackson and the area outside the town. With the danger being so high risk, Joel knew what he had to do and what he needed to do to support the team. Jackson welcomed him and Ellie with open arms, so he knew he had to do as much as possible to give back to the community.

However, this came with its disadvantages; it felt like it had been forever and a day since he had been with you and spent a day with you. He knew this routine was excessive and too much to handle for a man his age, but his pride was too high, and Joel was a man who could never accept defeat. Being unable to be with you, let alone even see you, made his chest feel tight, restricting as the sensation would knock the air out of his lungs. He knew that being so distant from each other was breaking you even more than it was himself.

Joel quietly dropped his dirty boots at the entrance door of his and yours shared home, sighing in relief as he took in the familiarity of the four walls that have brought him so many fond memories over the past few months—all memories of you.

Slowly he tip toes his way through the front room and then up the stairs, the groans of the ancient wood under his feet echoing through the house with each step he took. It wasn’t hard for Joel to be noisy, his broad frame making it difficult to walk in the house when you lay sleeping upstairs, the sound of a pin drop ringing through the thin walls would easily be picked up let alone his large steps.

Before entering the bedroom Joel makes his way into the bathroom, his body caked in mud head to toe, suddenly craving the feel of hot water over his shoulders, untying those stiff knots in his muscles from the long day he’s endured. Knowing the heat from the water would instantly bring him relief and satisfaction.

Joel wants nothing more than to get into bed with you and wrap his arms around your small form as he falls into a deep slumber, feeling the dainty movements of your chest rising and falling against him, hearing you let out soft, content sighs while you lay sleeping.

But at the same time he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to wake you up, missing the sound of your voice, missing the way you’d look up at him with such love and affection whilst you’d caress his rough skin with the softness of your fingertips.

It had been too fucking long since he’d felt the warmth or your cunt perfectly wrapped around his cock, he missed the way you’d fall and crumble underneath his frame, the desperate pleads leaving your plump lips, begging him to make you come.

And by the way his cock instantly touches the middle of his abdomen with just the sheer thought of you imprinted on his mind, he knows exactly what he needs to do.

Joel’s woken up too many times with the other half of the bed completely empty, the dip in the mattress still visible from where your body rested just hours before. He’d immediately move his body over to your side, inhaling in your pillow as the smell of your shampoo would fill his senses, causing his cock to strain against the band of his tight boxers, his pre-come painting the material.

Joel never expected that you’d bring out that side of him that he believed was long gone, never requiring the release of another women’s touch to help his urges, his hand doing just what he needed for that ache in his cock to go away. However the more he saw of you and started spending most of his time with you he couldn’t help the attraction he felt for you, imagining your body underneath him as he filled you completely. He’d picture your pussy fluttering around his cock as you’d come around him, the desperate whimpers leaving your lips as he’d continue to thrust his hips into you, chasing his own release.

Soon Joel’s hand wasn’t enough, his own fist not itching that certain ache inside him that would once do the trick. He wanted more and simply couldn’t get you out of his mind, needing you to help take away that burning desire that he kept hidden from you.

Once Joel had his shower he’d finish freshening himself up; brushing his teeth, running his fingers through his wet hair, sleeking it back and putting on clean boxers, which have abruptly become tighter than usual from his erection that’s still very prominent. After that he’d make his way into your shared bedroom, gently pushing the door open and popping his head through. Your frame resting on the top of the sheets finally coming into his view, lying on the bed alone, the image making his chest ache.

He lightly moves his frame to his side of the bed and lies his body down beside you, the weight that’s suddenly been taken off his feet makes him sigh in content, the hours of standing in the same designated spot started to build up tension, the stinging in the bottom of his shins finally starting to ease away.

Joel looks over at your sleeping form, his sight adjusting to the darkness of the room as the light from outside creeps in through the gap of the curtains, a soft smile shaping across his features just from the look of you.

You were facing away from him; your top half covered in one of his flannels that just hanged above the very tops of you thighs, the smooth skin of your legs being on show making Joel’s cock harden even more under his boxers, his palm pushing down on his erection causing him to groan from the friction.

He tries his hardest not to wake you, bringing his fingers up to the ends of the flannel to gently move the material up so it lands in the middle of you spine, giving Joel a view of your back, your ass covered in the daintiest underwear.

Joel shifts his body so it rests above you, every move he takes becoming so delicate, hoping not to stir you as you still sleep underneath him, showing him no signs of being disrupted by his actions. Both of his hands dig into the mattress, caging your body so it’s in between him. He watches your expression intently, your features still holding that peaceful expression. Your breathing is still soft and in rhythm, giving Joel the heads up to carry on.

Joel’s eyes glance their way down to the middle of your back, ever so lightly brushing the back of his knuckles against the smooth skin, tracing over the dent of your spine and over the sides of your rib cage. His touch descends further down until his calloused fingers touch the top of your underwear, fiddling with the fabric as it sticks tightly to your skin.

This wasn’t going to be enough. If it was his decision Joel would’ve ripped the material off of you completely and stuffed you full of himself in the matter of seconds, his cock being too deprived of your touch for far too long. But somehow seeing you still deep in sleep, being completely oblivious to his actions made him want to take his time, knowing that any moment you were going to wake up to the surprise of him over you. He wanted you to see how much he deeply missed you, show you how much he cared.

Joel’s too far gone and know he can’t control his urges, softly gliding two of his digits across the curves of you cheeks until they meet there designated target. The material of your underwear is already damp against his fingers as he rubs the outside of you pussy, teasing your clit with the roughness of his fingertips.

He can’t help but softy express his inner thoughts to himself, “fuck y’so wet baby.” His one hand gently moves to your right leg, caressing the exposed skin and bending it up slightly so his eyes can see more of you, slowly moving his body down, peering his eyes at the place where he knows your body craves him the most.

The centre of your underwear is ruined, your arousal seeping through the thin material, turning them a much deeper colour. Joel holds in a deep breath from the sight, bringing his one hand down to the waistband of his boxers, freeing his now red, glistening head from its confines, the night air hitting his tip making him hiss from the sensitivity.

Before he carries on, Joel’s leaning his body over and turning on the beside lamp, the sudden light surrounding the room, showing more of you to him. He moves his face down towards you so his back is curved as he starts peppering your back with light kisses, bringing his lips across to every inch of you he can see, the softness of your skin against his stubble causes you to stir in your sleep, a silent moan leaving your throat as Joel continues to assault your back with his mouth.

Joel doesn’t give a shit that his touch has abruptly woken you up, his lips causing your body to jump from the intrusion. “J-Joel? S’that you? What are y’doing?”

Fuck he’s missed your voice, the faint sound just slightly above a whisper filling his ears as you try to adjust to what’s going on around you, Joel’s moans vibrate against your back from the words that have just glided off your tongue.

“Shh it’s just me baby, just lie real still- fuck I’ve missed you so much.”

Joel picks at more of his flannel so more of your skin is exposed to him. You lift up your chest to help him ease it off you so it rests just over your shoulder blades, already feeling that desire you felt just hours before rise back up within yourself, and knowing it’s Joel who’s going to ease it away causes more wetness to pool in your underwear.

His lips feel soft and warm on your back, gliding across your skin sure to leave marks wherever they touch as small but sharp gasps start leaving your mouth from the feel. Unintentionally you start bucking your hips up towards him, hoping to give him the heads up that even though you’ve just woken up, you already are so desperate to have any part of him inside you.

Even if the movements barely there, Joel never misses anything.

“She wants me to bad doesn’t she. Don’t worry baby I’ll give y’what y’need.”

He knows exactly what to say to have you withering under him, his husky southern drawl always bringing that immense pleasure out of you with just the simplest of words or touches, and right now he had you right where he wanted you.

“P-please Joel, missed you— need you.”

His lips curve up against your arched back, quivering as a deep chuckle rolls off his tongue. “I know darlin’ it’s been so long, wanna take my time with ya so be patient. Can y’do that? Be a good girl f’me.”

Even though you’re aching for his touch, you know you both want this to last as long as it can, wanting to show Joel how well behaved you’ll be for him and knowing that he loves this submissive side of you. He’ll never be able to process how easy it is for you to become a melting mess underneath him, boosting his confidence.

You slowly nod your head, “yes Joel I’ll be good f’you.”

He hums softly at your words, “I know y’will baby, always being so good f’me aren’t you.” Joel continues with his actions as he watches the side of your face that’s plushed against the soft material of your pillow. You look down at him with the upmost admiration, mouth agape while his name leaves your lips.

“Fuck Joel please— I.” The way he looks right now is a sight that you’ll never forget, it’s been so long since you’ve actually been able to take your time and admire him for all he’s worth; his wide shoulders hold a slight sheen to them, tanned and covered is small dispersed freckles, his hairs still wet from the shower which has been slicked back with his fingers giving you a full view of his strong facial features. His looks alone is enough to have you putting in his hands, needing to feel him on your skin, “please touch me.”

Joel was so fucking beautiful and he didn’t even have to do anything.

“I am touchin’ you baby, jus’ relax— lemme take my time, wanna look after you.” Slowly lifting up so he’s back on his knees Joel’s grabs the band of your underwear and pulls them down your legs, the material leaving goosebumps across you skin, the temptation of his touch quickly building up inside your core.

Once Joel removes your underwear off of you completely he wastes no time in touching your cunt finally without anything in the way, a deep guttural moan flying from his throat, “shit darlin’ fuckk— missed your pussy so much.” He’s panting above you, relishing in the warmth your skin gives off, the heat travelling all the way down to his cock as it pulses against his stomach. “Such a pretty pussy.”

Joel lightly moves his thick fingers across your lips and up to your clit, covering his digits with your release, preparing you, getting you ready for him.

Joel can feel himself crumbling, his body reacting so strongly to you, “fuck darlin” you’re so wet, I need a taste it’s been s’long.”

Joel doesn’t give you enough time to answer as he’s flipping you onto your side, one leg placed straight on the bed and the other he’s pushing up towards your chest, keeping it locked in place and manoeuvring his own body so he’s leaning on his shoulder while his heads placed straight under your pulsing core. His gaze is on your wet cunt, so close to his face as he looks at it with hunger in his eyes, ready to eat it up like it’s his last meal.

The moment his tongue flicks over your clit your whole body jerks up towards his mouth, your one hand reaching into his wet hair, pulling at the strands while he pleasures you with his mouth. He winces at the tight pull, his lips quivering against you which only spurs on the intensity of your upcoming orgasm.

“Shit baby—missed how fucking sweet you taste.”

Joel can feel his tip that’s still popping out of the material of his boxers leaking on the skin just under his belly button. Usually Joel is capable of holding his urges in while he gives you what you desperately need, pulling orgasms effortlessly from you with just his mouth and fingers and always being able to leave his throbbing cock alone as it aches for some sort of touch, easily suppressing the pain until he’s gifted with the wet feeling of your walls soaking him to the brim.

But it’s been too damn long, too long since he’s had you in his arms in such a close and intimate way, your sweetened release coating his tongue as he fucks you with the muscle. His other hand reaches down to pull his cock fully out of his boxers, wrapping his hand around his girth while he fucks his fist, his fingers wet from touching your greedy cunt just moments ago. He has to pause for a moment as he moves his mouth off of you, the touch of his hand stopping his rhythm for just a second, but quickly returning his attention straight back to you.

“Yes Joel fuck—right t-there don’t stop please don’t stop.” Your whimpers were like a harmony to Joel’s ears, high in pitch and so soft as you open yourself up completely to him. Joel’s groans and the wet sounds of yours and his arousal echos around the bedroom walls, beckoning him towards his own release, needing you to come all over his mouth first.

And you are going to— it’s right there, your orgasms right on the edge ready to consume you, you just need that feeling of fullness to fill your neglected walls. “Mmm fuck J-Joel, need your fingers please- need them so bad.”

Who would Joel be if he denied you of the action when you asked him so politely. He’d give you anything you wanted from him if he’d hear those perfect words asking him so nicely for permission.

“Always so polite f’me darlin.” His hand instantly pulls off his cock, abandoning his own pleasure and moving them up to your pulsating heat, filling you with two thick fingers so his knuckles touch the outside of your entrance, curling them inside you, hitting that spot that he knows will have you seeing euphoric stars in a matter of seconds.

Fuck you were so beautiful. Back arched and head thrown backwards as your hips continue to rub against Joel’s mouth, using him to chase that release that’s right there on the edge, his nose catching perfectly on your clit sending shockwaves all the way down towards your toes. His eyes gaze at every inch of skin that’s visible to him; your face, your waist and the way your chest rises and falls in quick pants, locking the image permanently into his memory.

While still using his fingers, Joel’s quickly takes his lips off of you, yourself whining from the loss of his tongue. “Take the flannel off baby, let me see those perfect tits n’ I’ll make you come.”

His mouths back on yours in an instant, watching you with sinful eyes as both of your shaky hands start to unbutton his flannel and begin rolling it off one shoulder, revealing the curve of your breasts to him and to the thick air, your nipples hardening from the cool temperature in the room.

Joel’s hand that holds a tight grasp on your bent leg moves to your chest, kneading your breast and pinching your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your walls clench around his hand from his touch. He knows if he carries on he’ll have you coming in no time.

He switches from licking up your juices to sucking forcefully on your swollen bundle of nerves, flicking the tip of his tongue over the hood as your thighs start to twitch uncontrollably, knowing exactly what motions he needs to do to have you coming all over his mouth.

You look down at him, droplets of sweat forming between the creases of your brow, “fuck Joel r-right there I’m gonna come, please-e.”

His eyes are glued on your face, “g’on baby that’s it you can come, come all over my fingers— lemme taste you.”

The orgasm that crashes over you has the air knocking out of your lungs, you whole body shaking vigorously as Joel’s holds you down into the mattress, relishing in the tightness of your cunt gushing more release onto his hand and catching as much of the honey nectar into his mouth, never missing a drop of it as he savours the taste that he’s been deprived of for too long.

Your legs squeeze around Joel’s head, caging him in, no where for him to escape as you use his mouth and fingers to prolong the pure ecstasy riding through your veins, your skin becoming hot to the touch. Your walls contract against his rough digits, Joel’s muffled moans being silenced by your thighs, looking up towards you as pleasure washes over your face.

“That’s it baby use my mouth, wanna taste all of it.” You can feel him everywhere; his stubble scratching the inside of your trembling thighs while he continues to lap and lick and slurp through your folds for as long as you’ll let him, until your prying him away from the sensitivity.

Joel’s rolls your limp frame so you’re back to lying on your stomach once again, bringing his body that was once under you back above you, quickly removing last remaining material off his legs leaving him completely naked, his cock hanging down so he’s touching the curve of your cheeks.

He gives his cock a few pumps with his first, his wetness covering him entirely. His heads quick to respond to his touch, droplets of come trickling down until it makes contact with the skin of you ass, the liquid reflecting in the light from the beside lamp. Joel moves his body so his chest makes contact with the curve of your back, his face so deep in your hair and his lips ghosting over your ear.

“God I’ve missed how you’ve tasted baby, been too damn long since I’ve had you. Y’gonna let me fuck you now? Fuck— I need to feel your pussy wrapped round me.”

You buck up your hips into him, Joel’s breathless moans singing in your ear, your action giving him the go ahead, wanting, needing to be filled by him, missing the way his thick cock would pulse inside you.

“Yes please Joel, w-want it so bad.”

Joel kisses your sweet spot, “want it so bad huh, been s’long since you’ve been stuffed full of my cock hasn’t it?” Joel’s weight is held up by his one arm, his palm digging into the mattress below whilst he rubs the head of his cock through your soaked folds and nudging the tip of your clit, the rubbing of his thickness resulting in breathless gasps to leave both of your lips. “Relax f’me baby, I’ll give it to ya.”

He loves to tease you. Knowing very well that you secretly love it too; the anticipation, the excitement, the unknown of what his next steps will be. Teasing meant he could take his sweet time with you, he could savour every part of you that he could get his hands on, your taste and touch lingering on his skin for days after.

He nudges his cock at your entrance ever so carefully. Just enjoying the feel of the outer part of your pussy while it soaks him everywhere, his thickness gilding so easily through your glistening folds.

“Can feel your pussy tryin’ to suck me in baby, wanna—fuck—need to take my time with ya’ sweetheart.”

He thrusts his hips forward so his groin comes into contact with the soft skin of your cheeks, continuing to stroke his cock in between your legs and tease your entrance, your thighs that are pushed so close together squeezing his cock even more.

The anticipation roaring through your whole body is too much to handle, longing to feel what you’ve been wanting the most from these agonising few weeks you’ve endured.

Lifting your hips at the perfect time with the pace that Joel has set with his teasing causes his entire cock to fill you to the hilt, surprised gasps leaving both of your mouths as you finally feel him deep inside you, your pussy trying to adjust to his length.

“F-fuck Joel—“ The amount of wetness between your legs makes it so easy for him to glide smoothly inside you, also helping with your walls that are trying to accompany his huge size.

Joel could’ve come right there in that moment from the sudden feeling of your walls tightly wrapped around him. “Oh my g— oh fuck baby. Christ you’re so tight, always so fuckin’ tight.”

Joel knew he was a lot bigger than the average man, and with you being much smaller than him he knew it would be difficult for you to adjust to his size. The moment his thick head would prod at your entrance he’d immediately crave the glimpse of slight discomfort in your appearance, mouth agape and your pussy struggling to take him all in, his cock stretching you out, he could come just from the look on your face.

He doesn’t move once he’s inside you, waiting a few moments to help you get used to him. His one hand moves to your side, caressing the skin on your arm, “no matter how many times I fuck this pretty pussy she always struggles to take me doesn’t she. Shit darlin’ you’re so perfect.”

He’s so deep inside you, the weight of him pushing you down into the bed as tears start to well in your eyes as he begins to set a slow but hard pace, your teeth biting down on the pillow to muffle your moans.

He moves the strands of hair that have obstructed his view of the emotions that scatter your face, needing to see ever look of pleasure that roles across your features while his thrusts pick up behind you.

“Don’t y’dare hide from me, wanna hear ya baby— tell me how good my cocks makin’ you feel.”

He grunts into your hair, inhaling in the scent of your skin, your fresh shampoo filling his senses while he sets a blistering pace behind you, his chest flushed again your back, fitting perfectly together as you spine curves into shape with his soft stomach.

“F-feels s’good Joel—fuck I’ve missed you inside me oh my god— you’re so big.”

A devilish chuckle escapes his lips, “I know baby but you can take it can’t ya, this pussy was fuckin’ made f’me.”

“Joel please—“ he feels fucking everywhere; his whole being filling all your senses, giving you everything as his tip continues to hit that spot deep inside you that only he knows how to reach, his thickness never failing to miss that point that has you gasping for air and your whole body curling from the depths of his thrust, he never misses:

Every. Single. Time.

“C’here baby.” Joel’s lifting himself onto his knees in an instant, bringing your flushed body with it, his cock never leaving your cunt as he maintains that secure motion. The ridges of your walls hug him so tightly as he brings you closer to your orgasm.

You arms fly into his hair as his wide arms cage you in, wrapping them around your upper body whilst he holds you up so closely to him, feeling the hot air leave his nostrils whilst he switches between sucking and kissing the crease of your neck, exposing more skin for him to continue his marking.

Once Joel’s finishes his assault on your neck he brings his lips up to yours, finally feeling the plumpness of your own against his, instantaneously moulding your tongues together. You can still taste yourself on his lips while he moans into your mouth, the act releasing more of your arousal around Joel’s cock. It’s messy and desperate, the both of you making up for lost time.

Your whole body is putty in his grasp, turning into jello as he holds you up against him, well aware that you’d fall face down if Joel didn’t hold you up like he is. The sound of skin slapping on skin consumes the thick air around your sweltering bodies, the heat leaving thick sheens of sweat against your skin, sticking your bodies together like glue.

“Go on darlin, need to feel ya come for me. Fucking show me how good I’m makin’ you feel.”

You bring one of Joel’s hands that’s encased around you up to your mouth, pushing two of his digits past your lips so you can coat them nicely in your saliva, swirling your tongue around them. Joel can’t take his eyes off you as he watches you take his fingers to the back of your throat and back out of your mouth with a ‘pop’.

“Rub my c-clit Joel— need it s’bad.” His hand begins it’s travel across your hot skin, gliding down until it lands in between your legs, rubbing your puffy clit with his fingers, enticing you closer to your release.

Your head lands against the top of his shoulder, “fuck Joel yes— I’m so close—fuck Joel I’m gonna come, please let me come.”

His eyes screw shut, your filthy words effecting him more than he wanted them too, bringing that tight knot in his stomach straight up to the surface, ready to be relieved in a matter of seconds.

Joel’s voice sounds so desperate, breathless pants brushing the sides of your face, “you can come baby, fuck— come f’me.”

Your second orgasm hits and the intensity is unmatched to anything you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Your legs start to shake and toes curl and you can feel your insides throb and gush around Joel’s thickness. Joel’s humming in your ear is hard to pick up on as your release fills your whole body, the ringing in your ears and white sparks behind your eyelids sending you into another dimension.

“Fuckin’ good girl that’s it you’re doing so well f’me— shit darlin’ y’gonna make me come.”

Pleasure soon subsides into overstimulation as you come down from your high, your body been given that unbelievable pleasure and satisfaction. Joel’s hips soon start to stutter behind you, losing that rhythm he held onto so strongly, ready to fill you up with his release.

“Please Joel come inside me, wanna feel you fill me up—missed being full of you.”

He grabs your jaw, easily fitting it into his palm as he brings your lips back onto his, watching you as you come back down to reality. He eyes don’t leave yours as his cock jumps inside of you, lips trembling as your pussy pulls him in. “Fuck,” he mumbles into your mouth, “fuck I’m coming,” you reattached your lips, his grunts being silenced by your mouth as he hits his peak and spurts of his hot come fill up into your velvety walls, milking him of everything he’s worth. He comes hard; the force of it knocking the air straight out of his lungs.

Joel’s hold on you tightens, his thrusts gradually fading down until he shields himself inside you, not ready to feel the loss of your pussy just yet, keeping you close and flushed up against him.

Once his lips leave yours Joel can take the moment to bring the air back into his chest, his gaze locking onto every feature that’s plastered across your face, reading your expressions as pure bliss continues to wash over you.

“You okay darlin’?” He hugs you even tighter, forever appreciating these tender moments with you. “Fuckin’ hell I’ve missed you.”

You nudge your nose against his, the biggest grin landing across your face. “I’m okay Joel— I’ve missed too— so much.”

Joel plants kisses all across your shoulder, pulling himself out of you slowly, wincing as the change in temperature hits him. He already misses the way your pussy wrapped it’s way around him, never feeling anything like it before. He makes his way over to the bedside drawer, pulling out a towel to clean you both up.

One you’ve both freshened up, Joel’s pulling you across the bed so you’re flushed against him, your body moulding into his so flawlessly as he lays on his side behind you.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long sweetheart I know it’s been hard f’you. It won’t be forever I promise y’that.”

Joel knows the right words to say to give you that sense of certainty, never being the one to break any promises he gives you, knowing that you’ll have him back all to yourself soon brings excitement to your chest.

“I know Joel I understand, just can’t wait to have you all to m’self again.”

His low chuckle vibrates against your cheek, he lays a quick kiss on your jaw. “Same here baby, I can’t wait either.”

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The sunrise beaming through the gaps of the blinds awakens Joel out of his deep sleep, blinding him from his view. Your warm skin is still pushed up against his chest, the sound of soft, content signs leaving your lips as sleep still consumes you. Joel looks down at your body, forgetting what it was like to have you so close to him instead of constantly waking up in an empty bed.

Knowing he had you to wake up to made the mornings Joel’s favourite time of day. You finally brought him that feeling of solace and safety that he’s been searching for most of his life.

Joel knew if he had you by his side, he was home.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Tysm for reading! Please let me know what you think!🤍🫶