#this gifset took me way too long

[whatimdoing-here]

NCIS HAWAII | 3.10

[letojessica]

it was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me— said all at once.

[deweyduck]

@pscentral​​ event 22: 2023 wrapped

↳ DISNEY CHANNEL IN 2023

[tmpttion]

yeonjun ♡ 230706 mezamashi tv for @xdinarysheroes 💗

[comicbookddr]

Etharah Week Day 2: Dress Up

[ququoquaw]

[alleywayslushie]

Rick and Morty S5EP10: Evil Morty's Monologue

[the-axolotl-god]

Made a gifset for this Morticia line I enjoy. Bonus low effort shitposts (plus a blank twirl gif) below the keep reading line.

The original The Addams Family series is a ton of fun! Honestly thinking about making a gifset of all the doorbell scenes once I finish it. The show in general has a lot of very fun sight gags. It's very amusing and makes me feel nice inside. Super great to end my days with.

[soobrownie]

Chest X Together

[indestinatus]

The silent art of gif making

The gif above has 32 layers plus 6 that aren't shown because this is part of a larger edit. I wanted to share it to give everyone a glimpse of the art of gif making and how long it usually takes for me to make something like this. This one took me about an hour and a half but only because I couldn't get the shade of blue right.

I use Adobe Photoshop 2021 and my computer doesn't have a large memory space (I don't know what to call it) so usually most of psds get deleted because I'm too lazy to get a hard drive. It doesn't really bother me that much because I like the art so when it's done, it's done. Off to somewhere else it goes.

Here are the layers:

Everything is neat and organized in folders because I like it that way. I prefer to edit it in timeline but others edit each frame. There's a layer not shown (Layer 4 is not visible) and it's the vector art. Here it is:

Now it is visible. I don't plan to make this a tutorial, but if you're interested I'd love to share a few tricks about it. I'm pretty new to the colors in gifmaking but the rest is simple to understand. Here, I just want to show how much work it takes to make it.

I opened Group 2 and here's the base gif. I already sharpened and sized it correctly but that's about it. Let's open the base coloring next.

Yay! Now it looks pretty! The edits are in Portuguese but it doesn't matter. There's a silent art of adding layers depending on how you want the gif to look but you get used to it. The order matters and you can add multiple layers of the same thing (for eg. multiple layers of levels or curves or exposure).

This was pretty much my first experiment with coloring so I don't know what I'm doing (this happens a lot with any art form but gifmaking exceeds in DIYing your way to the finished product) but I didn't want to mess up his hair, that's why the blue color is like that. Blue is easy to work with because there's little on the skin (different from red and yellow but that's color theory). I painted the layers like that and put it on screen, now let's correct how the rest looks.

I was stuck trying to get the right teal shade of blue so yes, those are 10 layers of selective color mostly on cyan blue. We fixed his hair (yay!) we could've probably fixed the blue on his neck too but I was lazy. This is close to what I wanted so let's roll with that.

BUT I wanted his freckles to show, so let's edit a little bit more. Now his hair is more vibrant and his skin has red tones, which accentuates the blues and his eyes (exactly what I wanted!). That lost Layer 2 was me trying to fix some shadows in the background but in the end, it didn't make such a difference.

This was part of an edit, so let's add the graphics and also edit them so they're the right shade of blue and the correct size. A few gradient maps and a dozen font tests later, it appears to be done! Here it is:

Please reblog gifsets on tumblr. We gifmakers really enjoy doing what we do (otherwise we wouldn't be here) but it takes so long, you wouldn't imagine. Tumblr is the main website used for gif making and honestly, we have nowhere to go but share our art here. This was only to show how long it takes but if you're new and want to get into the art of gif making, there are a lot of really cool resource blogs in here. And my ask box is always open! Sending gifmakers all my love.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cyd Charisse (The Bandwagon, Brigadoon, Singin’ in the Rain)—LEGS LEGS LEGS I would sell my soul for the legs of Cyd Charisse - she oozed style and glamour and sex appeal!! And she could DANCE! She was dancing next to the greats - Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire but they are never who you're looking at because why would you when you can look at her. I will only sit through too long ballet breaks for her. If there was any woman who you could call sex on legs it was her. These dances are everything to meeee (she comes in at the minute mark) and this dance too of course is iconic. In the words of Fred Astaire 'When you've danced with Cyd Charisse you stay danced with'

Suchitra Sen (Harano Sur, Chaowa Pawa)—Suchitra Sen! She had a 25-year career in Bengali films, and was at the height of popularity for a solid two decades as half of the wildly beloved pair of Uttam-Suchitra, who were practically the entire romantic genre of Bengali films by themselves. She acted in literary adaptations, romantic comedies, (melo)dramas and inspired-by-current-events films. She was the first Indian actress to receive an international award at the Moscow International Film Festival. In 1978, after the release of her last film (a box-office flop) she pulled a Garbo and put herself out of the public eye completely. She made no appearances, gave no interviews, refused awards, all of it. She didn't even show up for her daughter's or grand-daughters' debuts! She was taken for funerary rites in a covered hearse! The glamour! The mystery! That blinding smile!

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Suchitra Sen:

Not to take away from her costars in Devdas (1955), but the great Indian cinematic tradition of Tragic Romantic Yearning would not, I argue, be what it is without Suchitra Sen's performance in that film. I root for things to turn out better for her every time, even though I know how things are going to go.

A Bengali cinema icon. Liked crows (per Gulzar, "It was an astonishing sight. The crows used to pick at the grapes from her hand").

Linked gifset

She once rejected Raj Kapoor's movie offer (one of the most successful actor and director at the time). She was quoted saying, “In men, I don’t look for beauty. I look for intelligence and sharp conversations. I had refused Raj Kapoor’s offer almost immediately. He came to my residence offering a lead role and, as I took my seat, he suddenly sat near my foot and offered me a bouquet of roses while offering the role. I rejected the offer. I did not like his personality. The way he behaved – sitting near my foot – did not befit a man.”

Legendary poet, lyricist, director and writer Gulzaar had this to say about her "Glad that my ‘Sir’—that’s what I call her— got the Dada Saheb Phalke award during her lifetime. Contrary to people’s perceptions, Suchitra Sen is an extremely warm and very very friendly person. I adore and respect her. But she has the right to choose her friends. Surely she’s justified in keeping away from every Tom, Dick and Harry. She’s the only example of such quiet dignity in show-biz. That’s why the media compares her with Great Garbo. Suchitra Sen is my Sir. I’ll explain. During the shooting of Aandhi she started calling me Sir. Everyone in Kolkata calls her Madame. Since I’m her junior I requested her not to call me Sir. But she insisted. (We always converse in Bengali). So I call her Sir and she calls me Sir.”

Linked musical number [won't let me display embedded for some reason]

Cyd:

Photos do not do Cyd Charisse justice, unfortunately, because she is at her hottest while dancing, which she was exquisitely good at. Just go watch her first number in Singin' in the Rain, in that green dress; nothing I could say here will be more convincing that that.

She had amazing legs, and she knew how to use them! You probably know her best from the dream sequence in Singin' In The Rain. She was such a stunning dancer, and all her dance scenes are hard to look away from.

Dancing in the Dark clip:

She's an amazing dancer and my favorite from the period. Here's her and Fred Astaire in the Band Wagon:

I just like a woman who's there to be really incredibly good at dancing.

One of the most talented female dancers in Hollywood history, but what sets her apart from other competitors for that title is that she...umm...well let's be blunt, she was the dancer who put sex into it. The one who said "Hey, you know that A+ leg tone that naturally develops from doing this for a living? Why don't I let people see that? Like at every opportunity?" She reportedly insured her legs for five million dollars after hitting it big, which just goes to show that fame makes you crazy. It should have been ten million.

Arguably the Best female dancer of her time, she supposedly insured her legs for $5 million dollars. Stole the show whenever she had a dance number, even if she went uncredited. Musicals started to go out of fashion so unfortunately she didn't have as many big roles as she should have, but those she did are unforgettable. The Broadway Melody number in Singin' in the Rain - the green dress!

She could pirouette in pointes or tear it up in taps. Fred Astaire called her "beautiful dynamite" and wrote, "That Cyd! When you've danced with her you stay danced with." Gene Kelly partnered with her three times. Her legs were (reportedly) insured for $5 million in 1952 ($57.8 million in 2024 dollars)! Everyone in this poll will be iconic, but for raw physical grace, Cyd is up there with the best.

Legs for days, beautiful dancer in the most iconic scenes of Singin in the Rain. She's glorious. As some guys sung to her in It's Always fair weather, 'baby you knock me out!'

Incredibly, Cyd Charisse only started learning to dance as a rehab exercise to strengthen her body after a childhood bout of polio. She was in high demand as a dance partner, Fred Astaire called her beautiful dynamite and said "When you've danced with her, you stayed danced with". She was one of a few leading ladies to dance with both Astaire and Kelly, declaring them both delicious. Kelly apparently was stronger, while Astaire was more coordinated. She also said her husband would always know who she had been dancing with because Kelly left her bruised, while Astaire didn't leave a mark. She's better known for her dance numbers today, but she was a leading lady in her time! Her Scottish accent in Brigadoon leaves a lot to be desired, but compared to the other actors in the movie, it's almost good. She appeared in The Harvey Girls alongside Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury in her first speaking role, but she really burst onto the scene with Singin' in the Rain and her infamous Broadway Melody Ballet number with Gene Kelly (no one could handle a length of fabric like Cyd Charisse). She was brought in because Debbie Reynolds wasn't really a dancer and Kelly was notoriously a stickler about his Vision. After that she starred opposite Astaire in The Band Wagon, which was a bit of a flop but created some enduringly incredible dance numbers. She went on to star in a number of MGM movies, and was one of the last of the Studio era stars to remain on contract. Since we've got up to 1970, I'm including her opening routine in The Silencers (1966) to show just how long she was making a splash - she's into her 40s here and still a siren:

and of course, the iconic Broadway Melody Ballet -

[inklore]

Dilf! Namor...so tempted to write hcs for that

well let me inspire you with this hot mess bestie 👀

pairing: dbf!namor x (f)reader warnings: eighteen+ content, unedited because it’s late and i’m lazy so beware of hella spelling mistakes, lowercase, sexual tension to the max, alcohol mention, pining, and kissing, that’s literally it but it’s more inner monologue and tension heavy than anything honestly. note: bro this was supposed to be multple hcs but turned into one long ass tension filled mess lmao, i’m sorry but dbf!namor took over, it’s just perfect for him!!

part two | feel free to send me thots on these two!

i saw a gifset where tenoch was riding a motorcycle so obviously that's dbf!namor get's around, and he's giving brooding, grumpy, man who is always scowling at you and you're not even sure if he really likes you. if he is only polite for your dads sake

but one night you go out with your friends and have a little too much to drink-and using uber right now with your vision blurry and fingers key punching so bad your messages look like a toddler did them-namor is the first person you think to call. why? you're not sure. and you almost regret it, retreat into yourself-sober up-when you hear his rough voice answer, the "hello" landing heavy in the pit of your stomach

it take you a few deep breaths and closing your eyes to steady your tipsy mind on why you even called, your name on his lips sounding stern, adjacent to being worried you think

"where are you? stay where you are." and he's there before you realize it. the loud rumble of his bike as he pulls up in front of you making your entire being vibrate with nerves. "you need better friends." he says as he hands you the helmet that was just on his head, pleasantries dead as always

"what about you?"

"just get on." it's a command, rushed, demanding, as he helps your wobbly limbs onto the bike. wordlessly pulling your wrist to have your arms wrap around his midsection. and it's probably the liquor in your system that has every bump, the vibration of the bike, the wind whipping against the tops of your thighs-or maybe it's the heady affect his cologne that engulfs the inside of the helmet-how you almost feel completely compliant and light to lay your head on his shoulder. to let your palm spread flat against his rib bone

the heavy thump of his heart matching the same speed of the thumping that leads from your chest cavity to regions it has no right to be in. and when you expect him to fix your hold on him, to shrug off your head from his shoulder, he gives you no reaction. something that both makes your nerves burn and grow cold at the same time

when he pulls into your driveway, pulling himself off of the bike first, his fingers rubbing against your chin as he undoes the clip keeping the helmet steady on your head. helping your drunken hands pull it off your head-there's a moment where his eyes catch on your outfit. like he's really taking it in now, letting his eyes drag along your exposed thigh, before that signature scowl is pulling a shadow over his eyes again

"your father home?"

"no."

"do you need help inside?"

yes. is the first thing that comes to mind. yes, please. a heat bringing itself to your cheeks when you internally shame yourself for it. lock away somewhere in your brain that tipsy you cannot be trusted to think clearly-normally. and there's a split second where you think maybe he's shaming himself for something, that the two of you are sharing the same thought, the same link to something that maybe has always been there but you've stuffed away because it was better that way-proper, normal. with the way he's just staring at you

"no." you say again. your tongue feeling heavy and dry in your mouth as you swallow and force yourself to look away from him. brace your hands on the bike to pull yourself from it but end up catching your foot and ending up where you shouldn't be: in his arms. your palms once again finding themselves pressed to his front as he wraps an arm around you to stop you from planting yourself on the harsh pavement

"let me walk you inside." he says low and gruff against your temple. your insides turning into liquid compliance as you nod without a second thought. his breath heavily fanning itself across your skin as it takes a minute, two, three, before he's pulling you from his chest and holding your wrist to help you inside

once you're inside he drops your wrist, doesn't speak, just watches as you move on wobbly legs to the stairs. the pathetic thought to trip, to plummet yourself down the steps in hopes he'll touch you again, is volleying itself back and forth between just running up the stairs and sleeping this off and waking up to whatever this tension-filled-air-and insanity going on in your head-is gone

"thank you," you send over your shoulder as your fingers have a death grip on the railing. forcing yourself to surface a smile that you know probably looks as ridiculous as it feels to your burning cheeks

namor hums, nods, keeps his eyes on every step you take up the stairs, hype focused incase you fall-you assume. "do you need me to stay?"

you know he means it politely. not in the way your body is currently taking it, he's your dads friend, besides tonight he's barely shown you a kindness besides a pressed smile. you really need to sleep. need to reset your mind back to normal because his words shouldn't stop you in your tracks. have your body internally clenching at the intensity of his stare, from the glint in them that you're definitely imagining when you watch him move closer to the bottom of the steps-because you probably look like a tripping hazard right now

"do you want to stay?" the words leave your mouth before that last sober cell in your body can stop them-stop you from making a fool out of yourself

"i want you to be safe." he replies simply. you don't know why the answer only fills you with disappointment. i'll be fine, leaving your lips as you quickly take the rest of the steps up to your room. ignore the way you feel foolish and silly as you slip into bed

a silly feeling that still lingers when you walk down stairs the next morning to see a rumpled sheet and blanket on the couch deserted, and the smell of food coming from the kitchen. a sticky note stuck to a plate covered in foil on the counter: eat. simple. to the point. but still bringing a smile to your lips and those silly feelings imbedding themselves into your marrow

turning into something burning and aching when you see him again. when he drops something off for your dad and he's nowhere to be found in sight. when the two of you are stuck in the kitchen together, a heavy silence weighing down the air that seems to suck itself from your lungs the longer the two of you just stand here. the longer he keeps looking anywhere but you as his grip tightens on the neck of the beer you offered him-mentioning your father would be home any minute now

"thank you for staying, and for the food."

a nod. curt. ever him.

"you didn't have to help me-"

"think so little of me?"

"that's-i didn't mean it like that-i-" you want to state how he's avoided you like the plague before that. how his face morphs into a scowl when you enter the same room as him. how you are certain he hates you, still think that, just maybe a little less after helping you

"you need better friends." he repeats himself from the other night. making an annoyance shift your emotions

"so does my father."

the snort he lets out from under his breath shocks you, as does the pull of the corner of his mouth in the smallest-genuine-smiles you've ever seen him give you. it makes your stomach swoop

"i'm glad you called me."

"that's hard to believe. i'm confident this is the most you've spoken to me in a span of minutes." you joke, the corner of his mouth pulling into a full grin that makes you upset you've never seen him smile before this-has he always been this handsome?

"and here i thought you were a smart girl." the words would wound you if he wasn't staring at you like that over the bottle pressed to his lips. how even when he sets it back on the counter his eyes are still boring into your very being, right to that part of your body that you're understanding now has always wanted him. that you slowly realize, after much analysis to everything that happened the other night: the look in his eyes, the grip he had on your body to make sure you were kept safe, how he didn't even second guess or ask questions when you called, just demanding to know where you were, and to wait for him-that he was coming to get you and that was that

and it’s like a domino effect because now all you can think about is the stolen glances you’ve let go unnoticed, that you’ve chalked up to some festering dislike he may have had for you. how quickly his eyes shifted away from you when your father was in the room, how you’d look over and see him already looking at you when your father was distracted-that scowling coming back, the swivel of his head away from you almost something you’d see a frustrated animal do 

maybe you weren’t as smart as either of you thought. or maybe being blind to something you both ignored was better than doing something you’d possibly regret later 

if it were that, the fear of betrayal and regret, it didn’t seem to have any place in the room as you watch him finish his beer, walk around the counter to stand in front of you. reaching past you-your chests touching for half a second, your breath getting caught in your lungs-as he sets the empty bottle beside the sink behind you. and when you expect him to move away, to bid you goodbye, you feel his finger under your chin lifting your gaze from the floor. his deep brown eyes sucking every last potential breath from your lungs, your back digging into the edge of the counter as you try to ground yourself, try to settle the burning nerves that are making it hard for your brain to function right now 

“if it was only me, all this time, tell me right now.” 

you don’t need him to elaborate, there’s no need for explanation, you read through his words, the knowledge sitting heavy in your lower belly; the fear of shaking your head and having him stop touching you stops you from moving, a barely audible “no. not just you” falling from your parted lips

lips that his thumb presses into, your bottom lip met with the pad of his thumb as he rubs along it. throat bobbing with a hard swallow, eyes flashing from your mouth to your eyes. you want to ask why now? what changed? why throw both your dignities to the wind and say fuck it? but the look of stern-protection he showed the other night each time he looked at you, like he was fighting with himself with being upset at himself and upset at you for not having better friends, for putting yourself in a potential bad situation. you know why now 

“if i keep touching you-if i let myself cross that line-i’ll never stop.”

“what if i don’t want you to stop?”

“you’ll have to beg me to.” 

“i won’t.” 

his front is completely pressed to yours, a thigh between your parted legs, forehead on yours as you see the internal battle going on in his expressions, in his heavy breaths, in how he keeps dipping his mouth down to yours only to pull it away at the last minute, “you need to.”

“i need you.”

and it’s those magic words that have him cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss of passion-every lick into your mouth, every bite at your bottom lip, the moans he swallows down from your throat, speaking silent words of how long he’s waited to have you like this.

[bunnakit]

my stand in episode 1 thoughts, feelings, etc.

OHOHOOO FINALLY. FINALLY I FEEL INSANE ABOUT A SHOW AGAIN. poom phuripan my absolute beloved, i've missed you so fucking much.

the show really eases you into everything and so far i don't mind the back and forth, i think it's interesting to see the direct consequences and THEN the story of how we got here. i don't know if my opinion on that will change later but for right now it's really pleasing me. i also really like this gradual introduction we're getting into everything and the sort of thriller/mystery vibe to it all. it's giving me some very loose/vague manner of death vibes.

i immediately don't like the vibes of tong or wut but i'm reserving any real accusations until later, but i'm def side eyeing them. i've got my eye on you two.

it really took my brain some getting used to to understanding the joe we're seeing is joe's consciousness and everyone else is seeing the joe that was shown in his reflection in the hospital (i've never seen vice versa or many other shows that do this, forgive me) but once i wrapped my head around it i actually quite like it. mostly bc it means i still get to see a lot of poom.

anyway - thus far this has one of my favorite romance tropes; guy who is used to being treated badly/ignored and man who has too much love to give (to someone who may or may not deserve it, judgement withstanding on that rn.) joe is just such a heart eyed fool and i'm so glad to see poom in another role of lovesick, unfairly attractive, dork. it's a role he plays so well and he immediately endears you to joe so fucking much.

throughout most of the episode i was like ooh this is a bummer but the angst isn't too bad. and then. AND THEN.

ming coming over to joe's house and making a move on him, again, from the perspective of behind joe - where he looks so much like tong. the lamenting about him being a virgin and joe offering himself up to him. and then ming turning him back around to face the mirror. this way he looks so much like tong, he can pretend it's tong, and yet at the same time joe's face is right there, reflected back in the mirror, inescapable. i'm fucking eating this up, finally some good fucking food.

idk i'm probably not touching on everything i want to, it's been a long ass time since i've done one of these, but this is just what immediately comes to mind. now time to go make a gifset lmao.

(if you give me novel spoilers i WILL hunt you for sport)

[bengiyo]

Hi, i'm a newish bl drama watcher from thailand that just started watching thai bls. i'm a bit ashamed to say that for a long time as a gay man living here i've been avoiding bl shows like the plague cuz of both the fandom reputation and of misconception from my yaoi era which i leave far behind. i'm just want to ask how did you got into watching thai bls and what were you preconception before you got into it.

Welcome to the Tumblr side of BL fandom. I'd actually like to also hear more of your experience with yaoi and BL as a gay person growing up in Thailand if you're willing to share.

For me, I'm a Black American from the Gulf Coast (the South). I grew up in a Catholic city and spent my entire adolescence in the closet. Despite having a sense of who I was as early as 8 years old, I kept most of that to myself. Because I didn't talk about it much with people, I found out most information about queer media and queerness from the internet.

I entered BL via queer cinema. I think the first explicitly gay character that I remember from TV was Marco from Degrassi: The Next Generation. There were probably others, and definitely more subtle expressions, but when I think about the oldest gay character I remember and connect to, it's Marco. I don't like counting things like shipping Shawn and Corey on Boy Meets World or Tai and Matt on Digimon for oldest gay characters. Sailor Moon can't even count because we got a censored version of it in America.

I got access to satellite television away from observing eyes around age 16 and started watching content on Logo back when they aired gay content regularly. I watched basically whatever I could late at night. It's how I saw movies like Get Real (1998), Beautiful Thing (1996), and Bent (1997). It's also how I saw Queer as Folk (2000-2005) Noah's Arc (2005-06).

After hitting adulthood I mostly got lost in video games and standard American TV for a while, but I did basically show up to any Gay Event in TV. I appreciate that Stef and Lena from The Fosters (2013-2018) were some of the only TV lesbians to survive the horror of 2016.

I watched a bunch of movies in this time, many of which appear on the Queer Cinema Syllabus I made for a hypothetical Westerner new to BL and queer cinema, which @wen-kexing-apologist has decided to try to complete.

I got into Thai BL in 2018 accidentally. I started seeing gifsets of Kongpob telling Arthit he'll make him his wife passing around Tumblr and was basically like, "Right, what's all this then?"

I had watched a few Thai gay films, mostly notably Love of Siam (2007), Bangkok Love Story (2007), How to Win at Checkers Every Time (2015), and The Blue Hour (2015), but this was the first time I was seeing a long series made available so easily from any Asian country.

From there I got into Make It Right (2016-17) and Love Sick the series (2014). Once I realized that yaoi had moved beyond manga and a few anime adaptations, I went looking for a lot more. I basically haven't left since I started in about 2016 with SOTUS.

There's my basic entry into the genre. I don't think I was as worried about fandom and worries at the time because so much of being a fan of queer cinema was a mostly-private experience for me for so long. I didn't realize that BL fans active in the space would predominantly be women or queers figuring themselves out. It took a while to adjust to that, and also to adjust my expectations of the kinds of queer stories BL distributors were willing to fund.

That being said, I tend to agree with @absolutebl that BL has a useful role in normalization for non-queer audiences who encounter it. I like cheering BL when it does things I think work really well, and also deriding it when I think it does things that are offensive to help nudge the genre and offer my perspective as a gay man.

I like the place we're at right now where there's way too much to watch for any person with other hobbies and responsibilities because it means that people can pick and choose what's to their tastes.

More often than not, I'm probably most-invested in something airing from Japan because of my melancholy nature, but there's so much variety these days that it's okay if you don't like everything. I certainly don't!

I'm glad you joined us on Tumblr and look forward to your thoughts!

[ronsenthal]

As a fellow gifmaker (only not quite as skilled as you are) I've been struggling and your gifs always look so amazing and nice and colourful so I was wondering if you could share some tips on how do you colour tinted scenes like in MoTA? thank you Jess you are amazing 🤗

heey there!!!! First of all sorry for taking so long to reply to this, I was so happy with your nice comments that I wanted to give you a proper insight on how I do it, but unfortunately I'm quite HORRIBLE at explaining things?

I'll put it under the cut because it's gonna be a long post! but if you have any doubts my askbox is always open!!!!

So first of all I already gave some tips on how does my process with coloring gifs work so you can check it on my resources and tips tag

As you said you are also a fellow gifmaker so I'll take it from there as I assume you already know gif 101, but if you are new to this you can again check my tag for some beginners tips

Also want to point out this lovely tutorial by @ajusnice that might be even more helpful, since I learned a lot from it

Disclaimer: i'm colorblind, I can see all the hues, just not all the shades and I tend to struggle with greens, oranges and yellows so apologies for any mistakes or if this turns out looking weird!

HOW TO COLOR TINTED SCENES????

So at this point I hope you already have you gif all cut down to the size that you want and used your fav action/sharpening presets ( I use this or this actions to sharpen my gifs

Now I'll use the footage down bellow as it is really blue tinted and I worked with it for this gifset (MoTA SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!!!!!) so it looks like this

3. So the first thing I do is work with curse as it gives me a better grasp of what I have and how do I want to go with it. I have been using this method where you go to Curves >> Click on the top right menu >> Auto Options

4. Now a new window thing will open up and then I click on the option Find Dark and Light Colors, as you can see my gif already looks a lot brighter and now so tinted

5. this is how my gif looks like I selected that option

6. still does look a little blue-ish doesn't it? Okay so now I'll go to some adjustment layers, the first thing I do is work with hue/saturation. I'll go to the cyans and blues first and I want to remove some of the blue tint of my scene. I prefer to decrease the saturation of those colors so it looks a bit like this

and my gif looks like this

7. So here is our first problem, while I took away the blues my gif now looks a little dull as the scene was delivered to us in such a different color scheme, It wasn't supposed to look like this so now we need to color correct!! For this I work my way around vibrance/saturation so my menu looks like this

And my gif looks like this

8. Problem #2 because now it looks too blue tinted AGAIN! so I just repeat step 6 again so my menus look like this

and my gif looks like this

9. from now on it's only about some details such as correct the brightness/contrast of the scene and I personally like to use the color balance adjustment layer, I'll leave it all here

10. finally one of my fav adjustment layers -> SELECTIVE COLOR i just mess around until it looks nice to me, I'll leave the configs I used down bellow

Finally after all those steps my gif looks like this

[allfoolsinluv]

Closer

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel grow closer after you arrive in Boston.

Word Count: 5.4k

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Minors DNI.

Warnings: canon-typical violence/death, assault, lil bit of angst, lowkey pining, getting together, fwb-to-lovers, soft!Joel Miller, alcohol consumption and drug use, explicit sex (fingering, unprotected p-in-v, f receiving oral, lil bit of consenual somno, dom/sub vibes, dom!Joel, sub!reader, teasing, rough sex, spit play, come play, dirty talk like WHOA, soft aftercare, i thiiiiiiink that's it idk i might have missed something bc there is A LOT here ok)

A/N: ok so i saw this gifset and the last gif took me OUT then I heard Closer by Nine Inch Nails on tik tok and my inner whore took over and she wrote this. The chokehold this man has on me is REAL and MIGHTY. anywho my first pedro boy fic! huge huge HUGE shoutout & thank u to @pedrito-friskito for looking this over for me 🥺💗 luv u bby

masterlist

Things between you and Joel had started out simple enough.

You’d met him not long after you’d arrived in Boston, during your first shift disposing of infected bodies. He kept to himself, not interacting with you beyond a curt nod of acknowledgment when you introduced yourself at the beginning of the day. But you hadn’t missed the way his eyes stayed on you throughout your shared shift. His gaze was curious, almost, like he was studying you. You hadn’t blamed him for it, even though he did kind of make you feel like a bug under a microscope; you were a newcomer, and newcomers often meant trouble. He hadn’t seemed like the type of guy that took too kindly to trouble.

The next few shifts you’d spent beside him went much like the first. He’d barely speak to you—if he even spoke at all—and kept an eye on you as you worked. As your time in Boston went on and as you continued to work more shifts with him, the intensity he watched you with seemed to lessen. For whatever reason, Joel Miller decided you weren’t a threat.

He’d warmed up to you after that, as much as it was possible for him to warm up to anybody. He would no longer ignore your greetings, offering you gruff heys and hellos. He’d sit with you in silence whenever you were allowed to take a break from working. He'd even started to walk you home after your shifts. When you'd asked him why the first time it happened, he'd told you that your apartment was on his way home. You wouldn’t have called yourselves friends, per se, but you both were definitely more agreeable with each other than you were with anybody else in Boston.

He was with you the first time you saw a public execution take place in the city center. One of your neighbors had been caught outside past curfew one too many times, an offense she would pay for with her life. You hadn’t known her very well, but hearing her name be called out and watching her life end before your very eyes was enough to break something in you. You’d been delusional to think that things on the inside were going to be any better than they were on the outside. 

Joel watched you watching your neighbor hang, taking note of the way your eyes widened and your breath drew short at the sight. When her body stopped flailing and the life had finally been drained from her, he placed a rough hand on your shoulder. When you startled at the contact and turned to look at him, he nodded his head in the direction of your apartments.

“Come on,” he’d said. You’d simply nodded in response, following him out of the crowd and away from your dead neighbor.

The two of you walked side-by-side in silence, not much different than when he’d walk you home any other day. When you got to your apartment building, though, he didn’t stop like he normally did. He kept walking until he realized you were no longer next to him.

“You coming or what?” he asked, head cocked and a hand on his hip. You’d looked between him and your building in confusion.

“This is my apartment.”

“Yeah,” he said as he approached you once again. “But we’re making a stop at mine first. Got something for you.” 

The thought of Joel Miller having something for you sent a flurry of nerves and butterflies swirling in your stomach. It’d been so long since you had any kind of companionship, it was nice to be thought of by someone else. You tried not to let your emotions show as you nodded your head.

“Okay, then. Lead the way.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when Joel had told you he had something for you, but whiskey and some pills weren’t it. Not that you were going to complain about them, though—it’d been too long since you’d had or done anything to turn your brain off. He didn’t say anything as he poured each of you a glass and put a pill in your hand. You’d swallowed the pill and the whiskey in one go. Joel poured you another glass without question.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while, side-by-side on his couch as you drank. The whiskey had burned as it went down your throat and settled into your stomach. It felt good.

After you’d polished off your third glass, you put the cup on the table in front of you with a heavy sigh. You sunk back into the couch and closed your eyes, saying softly, “This place is a fucking nightmare.”

The feeling of Joel’s hand on your thigh made your eyes pop open. You’d looked down at his hand on your leg, your breath hitching at the sight. When you looked up, you found him already looking at you, the pain in his eyes evident. “It is.” 

You fucked for the first time on his couch that day. The whiskey and the pill and the vulnerability had loosened you both up enough to just let go. He’d pulled you into his lap, shoved his hand into your jeans, and made you come on his fingers before he pulled your pants down your legs and fucked every thought out of your head. 

When it was over, after he’d made you come again and pulled out to finish in his fist, you’d climbed off of him and sat back, catching your breath. He’d cleaned his hand off and silently reached over to help you pull your jeans back into place. He’d stood from the couch and held out a hand to pull you up. It went without saying that he’d walk you home.

It went on like that for a while. Whenever things became too much for either of you or the thoughts in your heads got too loud, you’d find each other and drown out the noise with whiskey, pills, and sex. It was far from romantic—you never stayed long after it was over, it was never soft or sweet, he’d never even kissed you —but it didn’t need to be. There was no place for romance in the world you lived in.

Things changed, though, the day you were jumped and nearly left for dead on the street.

It’d been one of the rare days in which you worked a shift without Joel, the availability of jobs just not lining up to pair the two of you together. You were cutting it close to curfew, the sun steadily setting as you made your way back to your apartment. You were only a couple of blocks away from home when it happened.

You hadn’t noticed you were being followed until it was too late. Large, rough hands grabbed your body and pulled you roughly into an alleyway. You tried to push the guy off, swinging your elbow back into his gut, kicking your feet out to throw him off balance. It was no use, though—he threw you to the ground, hard, as if you’d weighed nothing to him.

You hit the ground with a huff, the shock and pain of it dulling your reflexes enough to allow him to get on top of you before you could pull yourself up and scramble away. You finally saw his face, the light gone from his eyes as he gripped the lapels of your jacket and shook you.

“Give me your ration cards, bitch,” he seethed at you. You didn’t even know this guy and here he was, shaking you down as if you owed him something.

“Fuck you,” you spat in his face. 

He hadn’t taken too kindly to your disrespect, letting go of one side of your jacket to punch you in the face. The feeling of his knuckles connecting with the skin of your cheek and taste of blood on your tongue made you groan. He’d pulled his arm back to throw another punch, but before his fist even had the chance to come into contact with you again, the weight of his body was thrown off of you.

When you’d looked up at the scene unfolding in front of you, the last person you’d expected to see was Joel. There he was, on top of your attacker just like he’d been on top of you, delivering blow after blow to his face. You’d never seen him like that before, lost to the violence, although you’d known he was capable of it. It didn’t scare you like you might’ve thought it would. It was almost comforting, in a way, to know what he’d be willing to do to protect you.

Just when you’d begun to think that Joel wouldn’t stop until the man was dead, he’d grabbed him by the collar and brought him close to his face. “If I ever see you around her again, you’re a dead man. You understand me?”

Weakly, the man had nodded his head, a wet cough bubbling out of his throat. Joel released him roughly as the man spit up blood onto the asphalt below him. He turned to you, the fury leaving his eyes in an instant as he took in your disheveled state.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, rushing over to help you up. You stood with a wince, grateful he was letting you rest most of your weight against him as he held you and guided you out of the alleyway. “Need to get you off the streets before curfew.”

He guided you to your apartment, getting you both inside and locking the door behind you with just a few minutes to spare. You plopped down onto the couch with a groan while Joel grabbed your bottle of whiskey and the only rag you had to clean up your busted lip and the cut on your cheek. It was silent as he worked, save for the initial hiss of pain you’d let out when the alcohol first touched your open wounds. He was gentle with you, gentler than you thought him capable of.

When he finished, he dropped the rag onto the ground and cupped your face in both of his hands. The two of you had stared at each other for a long moment before he’d sighed, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours. Your eyes had fluttered shut as you felt his breath fan out against your face, your hands coming up to take ahold of his wrists.

“I should have been with you,” he whispered roughly. You shook your head at that, opening your eyes to find his screwed tightly shut. He kept talking, “I was outside your door, waitin’ for you to get back, but when you didn’t show up, I knew something was wrong. I should have just fucking been there to walk you home, to keep you safe.” Your hands moved up his arms to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling lightly in the curls of his hair.

“You were, Joel,” you whispered back, his eyes opening to meet yours, seeing the sincerity in them. “You saved me. Protected me. You were there when I needed you.”

He kissed you, then. He pulled you in close to him, softly pressing his lips to yours, mindful of the cut there. Your eyes had closed again, and you couldn’t have stopped the soft whimper you let out at the feeling of his lips against yours even if you had tried. 

Sex with him was different that night. He carried you to your bed and stripped you slowly, taking in the sight of your body underneath him. He hadn’t been rough or hard or fast. It was soft and almost syrupy sweet, the way he held you and made you come apart with his fingers and his cock. His lips never strayed too far from yours, as if the thought of not kissing you while he fucked you was too painful to bear. You hadn’t minded it, though—you’d felt the same way.

When it was over, he cleaned you up and helped you re-dress. After he put his own clothes back on, he crawled back into your bed and pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drifted to sleep with your head against his chest. As you fell asleep, you knew in the back of your mind that things between the two of you would never be the same come morning time.

You became his and he became yours.

Nearly eight months had passed since that night. Now, you’ve abandoned your apartment for someone else to take over, having moved all of your meager belongings into Joel’s place. You spent most of your little free time there anyways, and he felt more at ease knowing that you were coming home to him, instead of by yourself.

It’s a rare day in which neither of you were able to pick up a shift, all of the work slots for the day having been filled before either of you had gotten a chance to sign up for something. Not that either of you mind it, though—sometimes it’s nice to have a day off to spend together.

Joel, apparently, has been planning on making the most of your day off. He wakes you up with his tongue between your thighs and his hands holding your hips down on the ratty mattress. You come quickly, nearly reaching your peak while still half asleep, and the force of your orgasm hitting you fully wakes you up. He places soft kisses to the insides of your trembling thighs, looking up at you with an almost boyish glint in his eyes as you huff out a soft laugh.

“Well, good morning to you, Mr. Miller,” you say with a smile, one of your hands drifting down to cup his cheek. 

He grins at you—a rare sight these days—as he turns his head to place a wet kiss to the inside of your palm. “Mornin’. Nice wake-up call?”

“The best,” you giggle, moving your hand up into his hair and giving it a tug. He groans at the feeling, his eyes going a little glassy. “Now come up here and kiss me.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He moves up your body, placing soft nips and kisses to your skin over the thin t-shirt you’re wearing. When he reaches your mouth, you kisses you fully and deeply, wasting no time in letting his tongue trace your bottom lip. You open up to him eagerly, moaning into him at the feeling of his tongue against yours. 

He kisses you until you can’t breathe, only pulling away when you tug harshly on his hair. A thin string of saliva connects your lips to his, and he watches with rapt attention as your tongue pokes out to wipe it away. When his eyes finally flick back up to reach yours, you hit him with a playfully questioning glare.

“How’d you get my pants off without waking me up, anyways?”

He grins at you again as he grinds his own denim-clad hips down against yours, the rough material catching against your clit just right to pull a soft, needy moan from your lips. Joel bends down to kiss you again, laughing softly when you chase his lips as he pulls away.

“I have my ways, darlin’.” He plucks at your shirt and asks, “Can I take the rest of it off now?”

With a nod, you lift your arms above your head, allowing him to pull the fabric from your body. Once your shirt is off and on the floor, Joel moves to unclasp your bra, but you playfully swat at his hand and shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you gotta take somethin’ off first. You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you but complies with your request, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing both his jeans and his underwear off. You can’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him, gloriously naked in front of you. His cock is hard and flushed red, a pearl of pre-come beading at the tip. You sit up on the bed, preparing to lean forward and take him into your mouth, the thought of tasting him practically making you drool. He stops you though, pushing lightly on your shoulder until you’re laying back down, allowing him to crawl over you once more.

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, mocking your earlier tone. “Now who’s wearing too many clothes?”

You huff and quickly remove your bra, throwing it to the ground with the rest of your discard clothes. Once you’re finally fully naked, you try to reach out and take him in your hand. He’s faster than you though, taking both of your wrists in one of his and pinning them above your head. 

He bends down to nudge your nose with his, angling your mouth just right for him to kiss you. It’s so sensual, the way he easily slips his tongue into your mouth and takes your breath for his own. You could kiss him for hours. He pulls away and starts to pepper soft kisses across your cheek and down your jaw, until his lips reach your ear.

“I’ll give you what you want later, baby, I promise. I’ll put my cock in your pretty little mouth and let you suck your fill,” he rasps into your ear, the roughness of his whisper and the promise of his words sending a shiver down your spine and whimper out of your mouth. “But that’s not what I want right now. D’ya wanna know what I want?”

He sits up to look at you, his pupils blown wide as he takes in your trembling figure. You let out a soft yes as you nod your head.

“Right now, I wanna feel your pussy come all over my fingers. Then, when you’re nice and wet and fuckin’ gagging for it, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you, real slow, and fuck you until you cry. When you just can’t take anymore, I wanna pull out and come all over your pretty tits. Can I do that to you, darlin’? Will you let me?”

You’re uncomfortably wet, can feel your slick practically leaking out of you and sliding down to wet the sheet underneath you. The arousal his words have stirred up in your belly is nearly unbearable, and you almost headbutt him with the force in which you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes, Joel, you can. You can do it all, whatever you want.”

He chuckles at you and leans down to kiss you again, quick and dirty. “Barely even touched you, and you’ve already gone cockdumb. My needy girl.” His eyes flick up to where he’s still holding your hands above your head. “If I let you go, are you gonna behave?”

“I’ll be good, Joel, promise,” you say quickly. 

He nods once and lets go of your wrists, looking pointedly at you to make sure you keep them there. Once he’s sure you’re not going to try and get ahead of yourself, he lets himself touch you. His rough hands drag down your arms and to your ribcage, his thumbs lightly stroking your skin. He slides his palms up to cup both of your breasts, his thumbs now working over your nipples in light strokes. The moan that you let out would have embarassed you if you weren’t so turned on. You start to squirm as Joel gets a little bit rougher with you, but you obey his silent command to keep your hands where they are.

You almost grab at him when he leans down to take the hardened bud of one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling sloppily around it while he rolls and pinches the other between his fingers. You catch yourself at the last second, though, stopping yourself from winding your fingers into his hair.

Joel lets go of your nipple with a lewd pop and kisses his way back up to your mouth while his hands slides down your body. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth at the same time he cups your pussy, sliding his middle finger through your wet folds. He chuckles darkly at the way your hips buck against him and how you struggle to keep your hands where he told you.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs against your cheek, pecking you there. “Let’s see if I can make an ever bigger mess a’ya.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he easily slides two of his fingers inside of you. Your cunt clenches at the feeling of him working you open, his fingers move in slow, even strokes.

“Feels good, don’t it, honey?” Joel teases. “You like the way I fuck you with my fingers?”

You whimper in response, nodding your head weakly. He angles his hand to rub against the spot that nearly knocks the breath from you, his palm grinding against your clit. Your back arches off the bed with a hoarse shout of Joel’s name. He groans against your skin at the way you tighten around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Joel, please,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in time with his fingers. He uses his free hand to push you back down against the bed, keeping you from moving further. Joel leans down to nuzzle your throat, nipping lightly at the delicate skin there. He looks up at you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Please what? Use your words for me, honey.”

You can’t help the whine of frustration you let out as you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s hard for you to find words when he’s fucking you so well with his fingers.

Joel slows his fingers nearly to a stop and your eyes pop back open in a panic. His face is stern as you rush to say, “Wait, no, no, no, please, don’t stop, I—”

“Use. Your. Words. What do you need?”

You take a deep breath and nod your head. “Can I touch you? Please? I promise I’ll be good, I just… I wanna feel you.”

Joel smiles at you now, leaning down to place a quick kiss to your lips. “Hands in my hair, honey. Keep ‘em there, understand?”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. As soon as the words have left his lips, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him down to kiss you again. It’s filthy, all tongues and teeth. Joel starts to move his fingers inside of you again, gradually picking up the pace until he’s back to his original speed. You moan into his mouth, your brows furrowed in pleasure.

You can feel your orgasm building in your core, the coil winding tighter and tighter as Joel’s fingers work inside of you. Joel pulls away from your lips, letting you guide him to rest forehead against yours. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to, wanting to watch the way he watches you. He looks almost as far gone as you feel.

“I can tell you’re close,” Joel rasps. “Your pussy’s squeezing my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock. You gonna come for me, sweet thing?”

He starts to move his fingers a little faster, rubbing against you a little bit harder. The extra friction tears a sob from your throat. You can’t help the way a few tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure Joel is giving you bordering on overwhelming. Your orgasm is so close, your body tightening against him while your thighs starts to shake from the sensation. You nod your head, a whispering chant of yeses falling from your lips.

“Go on then, baby. Come for me.”

Joel's words send you over the edge, coming hard around his fingers and pulling almost painfully at his hair. Your moans are obscenely loud, and if you had any wits left about you, you’d be embarrassed by your volume. But you don’t and you’re not. The only thing you care about in this moment is the feeling of Joel’s fingers working you through an earth-shattering orgasm, the pleasure flowing all throughout your body. You don’t even notice the tears that have fallen from your eyes until Joel’s kissed them away.

You whimper as Joel slowly pulls his fingers from you once your body has settled back down and your breathing has returned to normal. You release the grip you have on his hair, letting your hands drift down the sides of his neck to curl around his shoulders. He holds his hand up for you to see, his fingers wet with you. You watch, mesmerized, as he spreads his fingers, your slick webbing between them.

"Look at what a pretty mess you made of my hand," he murmurs as his eyes move from his fingers to you. "Better clean it up, yeah?"

Silently, you nod your head and Joel begins to lower his fingers to your mouth. He starts softly, running his fingers along your bottom lip, coating it with you. When your mouth falls open with a pant, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers inside, rubbing along your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers with a whimper, relishing in the groan he lets out as you suck them clean.

He’s panting almost as hard as you are by the time he pulls his fingers from your mouth. You can tell he’s reached the end of his rope, has worked himself up almost too much teasing and playing with you. He takes his cock in his hand, hissing as he strokes himself a few times.

“Gotta fuck you now, honey,” he says roughly as he lines himself up at your entrance. 

“Please, Joel,” you whimper, attempting to lift your hips to pull him into you. “I want it. Please.”

Joel practically growls as he pushes into you, not stopping until he’s buried to the hilt. Your nails dig sharply into the skin of his shoulders, your back arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips. Joel is big, and no matter how much he preps you, how wet he makes you, the feeling of his cock pushing inside of you is always overwhelming.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him. His breathing is ragged, and you know it’s only a matter of seconds before he loses control and fucks you within an inch of your life. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He meets your eyes, takes in the way you can barely keep them open, how your mouth is open as you try to catch your breath, the way your lips are a little swollen from the kisses and bites he’s given you. When you sluggishly blink back him and give him a blissed-out smile, he’s done for.

He pulls out nearly all the way before snapping his hips forward, hard, the force of it making you yelp and cling to him even further. The pace he sets is brutal, and you feel your body moving up the mattress with every stroke. Joel grunts above you, reaching one hand down to grip your thigh and pull your leg up higher on his torso. It allows him to hit inside of you even deeper, almost impossibly so, the change in angle making you clench around him.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re—” Joel grits out from behind his teeth, cutting himself with a shout when you clench around him again. “Fucking hell, you’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

He trails his hand from your thigh and up the side of your body, the feeling of his hand moving against your skin making you break out in goosebumps. His hand grips either side of your jaw, and with what little brain power you have left, you’re captivating by how big hands are. 

Your train of thought is broken, though, by Joel’s face coming closer to yours. You think he’s holding you in place to kiss you, but instead his fingers squeeze, forcing your mouth open.

“Stick your tongue out,” he pants at you. When you don’t comply right away, his order taking a moment longer than it normally would to process in your brain, he squeezes you harder, nearly snarling, “Now.”

You stick your tongue out and when you do, Joel leans down and spits into your mouth. Your eyes go wide at the feeling of it on your tongue, a wrecked moan slipping out. He lets go of your jaw and instead shoves his fingers back into your mouth, his digits moving in time with his hips. You gag a little on his fingers, a few more tears building and falling from the corner of your eyes in quick succession. 

When Joel pulls them out, a trail of your spit connects his fingers to your lips. He grumbles a rough “fuck,” before moving his hand down to where your bodies are connected. His spit-slick fingers begin to rub fast circles against your aching clit, the shock of it making you shout and tighten around him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Joel,” you cry out. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, I’m so close.”

“Not gonna stop. Need to feel you come around my cock. Come on, baby. Let me have it.”

“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you moan with a nod. Your orgasm had been building steadily, each of Joel’s rough thrusts dragging perfectly against your walls to send you higher and higher. With his slick fingers now on your clit, you felt you could snap at any moment.

Joel must’ve felt it before you did, yours walls tightening like a vice around him, making his hips stutter and pulling a low groan from his chest. Your whole body tenses up beneath him, the air knocked from your lungs, before everything releases. The waves of pleasure rolling through your body are intense and overwhelming, a wailing moan falling from your lips. You’re practically sobbing beneath him, unable to hear him talk you through it over the pounding in your ears.

He works you through it as best as he can, only managing to stay inside of you for a few more thrusts before the feeling of your fluttering cunt becomes too much for him. He pulls out of you abruptly and takes himself in his hand, working his cock as he lets your legs fall back down to the bed and quickly shuffles up your body to straddle your torso.

“Look’it you, all pretty and fucked out for me,” Joel grunts, his fist working his cock faster and faster. “You always take me so well. Let me use you how I want. God, you’re fucking—” His hips stutter and he moves to grip the base of his cock as he lets go, coming over your tits. You moan as the feeling of his warm spend hits your chest. A flicker of arousal lights in your core at the sight of him marking you.

“Perfect,” he finishes with a groan, stroking himself a few final times. When he’s milked his cock dry, he turns and flops down next to you on the bed, gathering you into his arms and pulling you against him. He doesn’t care that his come hasn’t even finished drying against your skin, that it’s getting all over him. All he wants right now—knows all you need right now—is for him to hold you in his arms. He leans down to press a few soft kisses to the crown of your head.

The two of you are silent for a while, taking the time to bask in the after glow and let your hearts and breathing return to normal. You snuggle down further into Joel’s chest, feeling your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. You blink slowly a few times, letting them fall shut.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, honey?” Joel asks you, the soft rumble of his voice lulling you even further.

You hum wordlessly, too exhuasted to try and formulate a response. His soft chuckle jostles you a little, but he settles quickly, pecking your head once again.

“Get some rest while you can, baby. ‘Cause it’s still early, and I ain’t done with you yet.”

It’s going to be a long day off for you.