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joelsmochi · 4 months

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rating: E 18+ pairing: tortured artist!Joel x black!girly!f!reader summary: Joel hits a creative block with a mural, leading him down a road of discovery and intimacy in ways he's never felt before. warnings: au/no outbreak, unspecified drug use + marijuana use, unprotected piv, sex while under the influence, consenting adults!!! age is not specified but we can assume joel is mid 40s, brief mentions of death + abusive relationships, ooc!Joel (he is not the same person he was 1/2 pill ago…), third person pov but most of it is from joel’s perspective, very fluffy sex they may have said i love you wc: 5.3k a/n: Happy New Year everybody! This was inspired by Closer by Goapele and Prisoner by The Weeknd & Lana Del Rey plus I was thinking too hard about the time I ate an edible that had too much THC for me to handle and I produced whatever this is. Hopefully tortured artist!Joel hasn’t happened yet because I felt creative with this one…

ᝰ

The frayed paintbrush relentlessly slapped against the concrete wall, coating the discolored brick in thick layers of different browns, reds, and whites. Opaque smoke blurred his vision, yet he only let it inspire the strokes of his hand, creating a beautiful image that wasn’t clear to him yet.

Before he knew it, the sun had set; he sat on his hard leather sofa, massaging the twinge that had settled into his wrist while his face wore a disappointed scowl. He was displeased with his progress, the blob that was already half dry on the wall of his loft.

A rumble snuck into his stomach, forcing him to stand up and absentmindedly walk into the kitchen area. However, his disappointment grew when he opened the fridge to find nothing suitable for a proper meal. As he glared at the half-eaten yogurt and scarce 24-pack of beer, he decided to go and get Chinese food.

He lit up a cigarillo to accompany his walk around the block and across the street, tossing whatever was left into a sewer drain just in time for him to open the door to the restaurant.

“Miller,” a worker greeted with a smile, “your usual?”

Unknown to him, the smell of his cigar caught the attention of a waiting customer. She waited until he was done chatting with the employee to ask, “Cream?”

He did a double take, unsure if she was talking to him at first. She was tall, maybe five foot nine or five foot ten, with big hair and brown skin, and dressed in something far too lovely for her to be eating Chinese for dinner.

“I’m sorry?”

“You smell like cream-flavored cigars,” she said, sounding amused.

He felt unsure of how to respond, not wanting to seem rude, watching her diamond earrings gleam from the low yellow lighting. He paid for his food and answered. “Yeah, just had one.”

“Black and mild or swisher?”

“Blacks,” he answered, growing a little uneasy from the stranger questioning him despite the mundane topic.

“My favorite,” she boasted, earning another look from him after he put his change in the tip jar. “They’re much smoother.”

The man didn’t respond, only offering a tight smile in return. The pair stood a few feet apart silently, listening to people chattering and utensils clanking behind the counter as they waited.

She smelled like expensive brown sugar perfume and cocoa butter, a sickly sweet combination that tickled his sense of smell. Her scent was reminiscent of a freshly baked cookie a kid couldn’t wait to dive into. She was dressed in a lovely skirt and a prissy top paired with a mix of gold and silver rings and necklaces and bracelets — two colors he usually hated paired together, but somehow, she made it blend beautifully.

Her makeup was soft, or so it seemed. It wasn’t too heavy, but her eyebrows were bold, as was the line drawn around her vermilion border. He noticed she blinked slowly but held her eyes wide as if she anticipated something to happen.

The employee’s voice brought the two adults out of their daydreams.

“Beef and broccoli and chow mein?” They asked.

The artist waited kindly for the woman to grab her bagged styrofoam container before reaching for his own; he walked a few feet behind her, suddenly feeling bad for his cold demeanor earlier once they were outside.

“You want one?” He called after her before she got too far away; she turned around with a frown, confused at his offering.

He reached into his pocket and held up a couple of fresh cigars. She grinned, secretly desperate for a smoke. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she strutted back towards him. She strutted like a cat, one leg crossing the other.

She allowed the man with the messy hair the privilege of placing the stick between her plump lips, keeping her eyes on his as he watched where he was lighting.

She took a long drag, waiting for him to get his cigarette lit before asking, “What’s your name?”

His eyebrow cocked up, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was amused. But he answered anyway.

“Joel.” He sharply inhaled; she responded with her name and a smile, thick smoke spilling out from the spaces between her teeth as she gently exhaled. “You from around here?”

“No,” she said, “I like to travel. See new places. Find new things… Right now, I’m fixated on museums—art museums precisely.”

That piqued his interest. “Art? What kind of art d'you like?”

“Any art that speaks to me.”

Joel smirked at her answer as if it were funny. “Oh yeah? What speaks to you?”

Instead of her usual quick response, she pondered momentarily, trying to locate proper words to avoid rambling. “Suffering or excitement.”

He could only narrow his eyes at the vague response, but she spoke again before he could ask for an elaboration.

“You must like art,” she guessed correctly.

“I’m uh…” And there’s a long pause; the rhetorical shame of confessing what his job was had risen, but for what purpose? After a short internal debate, he finally admitted, “I’m an artist myself.”

Her eyes widened with excitement, which Joel found adorable. She asked him various questions: what kind of art he created, how long he’d been painting, his favorite creations…

He admired her interest in the subject and how she listened carefully and intently, clearly trying to understand as much as possible about him.

“How do you stay inspired all the time?”

Shit.

Joel’s mind ran blank for a few seconds, and he watched the woman’s face contort into confusion. She worried she’d brought up an unhealed wound and persisted that he didn’t need to answer.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Joel assured, “I’ve honestly been at a block lately…”

“Oh.” She sounded relieved. “Do you do anything to help get over that?”

He sucked on his teeth as he thought of an appropriate answer, yet nothing came to mind. He couldn’t lie even if he wanted to. “Just wait for it to pass.”

“…Could... Could I see your art?”

For the first time, she seemed to be shy. Her teeth grimaced, and eyebrows crooked out of fear of rejection, but Joel was sure he was far more nervous than she was.

"Uh, sure..." He said hesitantly. "What I have at home is nothing special, but-"

"I'm sure it's beautiful," she interrupted. "I'm free right now if that works."

ᝰ

This was unlike him: inviting a girl he'd just met into his home. She had something that enamored him. What was it, he wondered with each passing minute, was it her beauty or curiosity? Was it the way she smiled or how sweet her voice sounded? He couldn't ponder for much longer as she had already begun complimenting his home.

"A loft," she said while taking in the brick walls of his home that were littered with several paintings that all seemed to be works in progress. "It's cozy." Joel watched as her painted nails gently trailed over the armrest of his stiff couch just before she reached up to feel a painting of what seemed to be a little girl.

His staring made the woman laugh, and while he could admit he was being a bit precarious, he just wanted to ensure she wouldn't mishandle that particular piece. She didn't. She just reached to stroke the texture meant to resemble the girl's curly hair; she touched it for only a moment before pulling away and turning around.

After realizing the painting was sacred to him, she asked, "Is that someone you know?"

His shoulders and chest rose as he sucked in a melancholic breath, and she couldn't ignore the sadness that swarmed his eyes.

The woman was satisfied with no answer and moved on quickly. "May I eat with you?"

Joel gave her a stiff nod, his thoughts still filled with the traumatic memories of the girl in the photo.

They sat quietly and slowly ate their food, the lack of heat from their containers making the meal invaluable. The silence comforted him as it felt much different than the cold silence he was used to. No. Her silence was warm and comforting... Like a mother caring for a sick or sad or sleeping child. She didn't offer any awkward glances or stiff smiles. She didn't hide her joy or her optimism despite his distant demeanor.

Her eyes weren't as big as they were just an hour ago. Perhaps the food made her sleepy, he thought.

"Where ya from?" He figured he should at least be a good host.

"Rockport. It's a small town in Massachusetts. You?"

"Born and raised here," he answered.

"Really?" She squinted at him while poking at broccoli with a fork. "Never wanted to leave?"

Shrugging, he said, "Thought about leaving, never needed to."

"Is that painting supposed to be the same girl?"

She pointed to the spontaneous mural partly done on the big red wall opposite to them. He looked at it, forming different opinions and thoughts on his work.

"No. Not entirely sure what that one is yet," he grunted. "Needed to paint something, but I can't quite figure it out yet."

"You should do a self-portrait," she suggested with a wide grin. "I'd love to see how you see yourself."

"Nah, if I did that, it'd just be a college-ruled notebook with a bunch'a scribbles in it."

She chuckled at his pessimism, gaining a confused look from him. "So? Maybe someone would see something between the scribbles."

"I don't like painting myself," he said firmly.

She couldn't care less about his seriousness; she saw his need for perfection and keeping busy with work. Seeing the distress on the average person's face wasn't unfamiliar to her; all she wanted to do was take it away.

"Your art is lovely, Joel," she spoke truthfully, "For what it's worth, I think you'd paint yourself beautifully."

He chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds, taking in her warm smile and gentle words.

"You're very kind," he admitted, "thank you."

The temptress walked and stood in front of the mural to admire the thick blobs of paint that were still tacky. She saw the vision but just as quickly saw the block.

"You seriously do nothing to help the creative blocks?"

With a slight frown, he shook his head to confirm. "Just try working on something else until I find my rhythm again."

"Why not? Why not music or movies or going outside for more than Chinese on a Thursday evening?"

Feeling a bit antagonized, Joel scowled at her. "I paint what's in my head, not around me."

"Maybe that's the problem." She sat close to him on the floor and nudged his shoulder with hers. "Maybe you've painted all you know, and you're stuck right now because there's nothing new inside that pretty little head a'yours."

"Flattery only gets you so far, sweetheart."

"It got me in your apartment, did it not?"

His scowl grew, and he felt no need to hide his annoyance from her.

"Just tryna help," she smirked.

"I don't need your help."

"Clearly not," she simpered; she pulled a bag of ground weed from her purse and held it up for him to see. "Maybe you need Mary's help."

"You're fucking joking."

"It helps me," she said softly. "When I don't smoke, I'm a very anxious and shy person."

Joel's eyes fell to her hands, which were beginning to work the weed into a paper very carefully, watching her roll it precisely. "Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Mock me all you want, Joel, but I must say that even a couple of hits can make you feel ten times better."

"Not interested," he quipped.

"Well... If weed isn't your speed, then maybe..." She licked the paper shut and placed it on the table, then reached in her purse again for a bag containing different colored pills. "...ecstasy would be more fitting."

"You expect me to take drugs from a stranger?" He asked.

She leaned her chin on his shoulder and whispered, "I'm no stranger, Joel. I'm your inspiration."

He found himself laughing at her choice of words, not paying her any mind as she climbed into his lap. She placed a pill between the rows of her teeth and bit down to break it in half, offering him whichever half was smaller.

"You don't have to if you really don't want to... But it will help."

Her voice was so enticing that Joel was sure he was already high from the affection she persisted in giving him.

"Help me paint?" He asked, still not entirely convinced.

"Help you create."

Joel thought about it: he had nothing left in his life to live for other than his talent for painting, and he even felt that it was being wasted on unproductive days and constant disappointments.

For months, all he wanted was to create one last masterpiece and to feel proud of it. If all it took was to give in to some strange form of peer pressure, then that's just what needed to be done.

Almost an hour later, however, his worries about art were set aside.

With his head lying in the pretty woman's lap, he tried remembering why he had been so angry before. He let her stroke the curly hairs on his head and trace his lips over and over again.

"You're doing good," she cooed gently.

"You're very, um," he swallowed between his heavy breaths, "nurturing."

He noticed the woman's eyebrow shift upwards, and an amused hum left her mouth. "Hm. No one's ever said that before."

"Really?" Joel began to realize how dry his throat became. "Well, it's a compliment."

"Thank you," she giggled. "Thirsty?"

"Mmhm," he moaned.

Reaching over to grab the water bottle on the floor, she took a long sip as she felt parched before holding his head up to help him drink some. He felt her sticky lip gloss around the rim and found himself latching even harder onto the plastic container.

She let him drink as much as he needed before closing the bottle and helping him stand up, urging him to paint something.

He felt a wave of heat envelope his body, the hairs along his arms and neck dancing along his skin. He wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny, so he tried to hold it in. He followed her around the room and watched the ends of her hair bend and curl around her arms. She opened a few paint bottles, squeezing some onto his stained palette and holding the brush out for him. She couldn't help but laugh at the elation in his wide eyes; he was definitely in a much better mood than before.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, not bothering with the meaningless utterance of words and just giving into his need to kiss her. She wasn't surprised by the gesture, inviting his tongue into her mouth for more. She tasted the cigar on his breath and lips, ignoring how bitter it seemed.

The paintbrush smeared itself against Joel's elbow, causing him to jolt back in shock, only to laugh when he realized the purple-coated paintbrush was bending on its own. He took it from her hand and approached the wall, immediately getting to work.

While he worked and ranted about how the piece was "basically painting itself," she undressed slowly while prancing around the room and humming to some tune that found its way into her head. Joel saw the colors blend and separate, waiting for the wall to respond with where his next brush stroke should be.

The woman found herself looking at that painting of the little girl again. She was unable to quiet her curiosity.

"Is she your daughter?"

Her voice broke the string tying him to his work, and he stumbled around a bit before turning around and facing her with an asking face. He let his tools go and followed the sound of the siren, looking deeply into her wide eyes.

"She was my daughter," he admitted freely, something he refused to do as often as possible.

"Where is she?"

He noted how concerned she seemed and took it as an invitation to confide in her.

“She uh… She died ‘bout ten years ago.”

Joel felt her fuzzy arms weave around him, encompassing him with a sense of comfort. It was the first time he could talk about the tragedy without bursting into tears. Her lips pressed warm kisses into his forehead and temples as she attempted to bathe him in consolation.

He removed his head from the crook of her neck to look at her face. Her eyes, although appearing a bit lopsided, were still wide and curious, like she was still waiting for something. He tried to focus on just her, but all he wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to paint wanted was to pai-

A shriek broke him out of his trance: the woman seemed surprised about the splatter of paint that got on her bare chest and arms. Joel blinked rapidly and tried to decipher what had happened between talking about his daughter and... Now.

Had time managed to escape him? Was he too out of it to realize that? And who put on the jazz music?

The brown liquid dripped down her body and hid her nipples; he found the motion fascinating. How happy she seemed to be coated in the cold dispense helped him feel more at ease and join in laughing with her. Her hair, frizzier than before, somehow gave the illusion that she was underwater. It just flowed so freely.

"You are a mermaid in the most beautiful depths of the sea," Joel shouted dramatically.

"Wh-what?" She giggled before smearing a finger-lengths of paint onto his forehead.

His hand absentmindedly poked the paintbrush into her collarbone, tickling her in the process. "You are free... And kind... Did you turn the music on?"

And she's giggling again. God, he couldn't get enough of that sound. She was a siren, manipulating him with her songs of joy and laughter.

"You told me to," she answered; only Joel took a few minutes to process it. She covered her hand in yellow paint, cradled his cheek, and let the print of her hand stick to his face as if she were marking her territory. "I'm glad I met you tonight, Joel," she said quietly.

Instinctively, he beckoned for her to close the space between them. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

Her arms snaked around his neck as she looked at his aura and vented. "I was supposed to go on a date tonight with my ex-boyfriend. He wasn't the greatest guy. Abusive. Angry. But my parents love him, and they say he's changed, so... I wanted to try again."

Joel's drug-induced nosiness got the better of him. "Why didn't you?"

She sighed, a smirk daring to grow on her face. "I wanted to make him feel stupid."

He wrapped his arms around her waist at her wise words, holding her close as if she would blow away had he exhaled too hard.

"M'glad I met you too," he admitted. "Did I spill paint on you?"

"Just a bit, but it was my fault. You were in a daze," she admitted bashfully.

The pair took a few minutes to look at each other, feel their spirits, and soak up the serenity between the small gap in their lips.

"Do you wanna fuck?"

Those words would have left Joel speechless in any other scenario at any other time on any other day. But he was high out of his fucking mind, and once his brain had fully processed her question, he answered with a short and sweet "Yes."

He waited patiently as the vixen undressed him, and she took her precious time; her knuckles grazing the wiry hair along his pelvis sent hot shivers across his abdomen before his jeans pooled around his ankles. Lifting his arms to aid in the removal of his shirt, he flinched and giggled childishly when she placed a kiss or two along his collarbone.

She gasped at the nails digging into her sides, his hands begging for more because his voice was too weak to. The desperation grew in his eyes, and he wanted to feel close to her. To feel all of her depths and shallows and curves and grooves. Her essence rendered him helpless. The smell of her perfume was even more sickly than he recalled, but all the much more sweet.

Their bodies danced onto the floor, bending and curling around each other like snakes.

"I was always afraid of this," he spoke as she worked her hand around him, not that he needed it. "Feeling close with someone. After my last... You know."

She smiled at his words, telling him with her eyes: I know.

"I was so scared to feel close to someone..." She admitted. "After him, I wanted to be left alone. Untouched."

"What changed that- oh, fuck," Joel moaned, feeling her wetness encapsulate him.

"Someone found me, ha-ah, hmm... And took care a'me, just like I'm doing for you."

Joel clawed at her back, reaching for her hair, but his arms were too heavy, with the quick rushes of euphoria soaring through his veins. Her moans and pretty little sounds coaxing him into blindness. He couldn't see her face, covered in the universe of her bangs littered with stars and planets, until she leveled her happy face with his. The shimmer in her glossy eyes let him know she enjoyed this just as much as him.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met, ever s-seen," he moaned.

Finally able to lift his arms, he used them to hold her face gently. He admired her refreshing beauty. She moaned something about how sweet he was, though it went unregistered to him.

All he could feel was her thighs flexing against his hips every time she rode down, and he felt his cock brush that sensitive sponge deep inside of her. Her hands pressed painfully into his ribcage, but he didn't mind. He loved that she needed him so much that it hurt.

She laid her body down on his chest, bringing her lips to his chin; he whimpered at the softness of her lips, his warm breath hitting her nose and making her body shudder. His mouth parted to stick his tongue out for her to lick and suck, which she did graciously.

He never knew his tongue could feel so ticklish or that having it licked would feel so damn good. It made his cock throb against her walls, forcing a moan out of the both of them. Her nails scratched his scalp tenderly, hips rocking back and forth, creating the perfect rhythm.

Her breasts dragged against the hairs on his chest, making some of the dried brown paint flake onto him; her nippled peaked, vulnerable from the friction.

Joel wrapped his forearms around the base of her spine and rolled over as carefully as his intoxicated body would allow. With hair splayed out, she looked so ethereal, like a walking painting herself.

Then, he noticed a bucket of paint sitting nearby and dipped two of his long fingers inside, dragging the white liquid down the valley of her breasts until he reached the peak of her belly. He noticed how her body reacted: all of the little shakes and shudders signs of appreciation made his heart swell.

His hand reached around her hip to grip her ass as he rested his body weight on her and enveloped her in more kisses. His hips rocked gently and slowly, careful not to hurt her. He wanted to feel her cum and hear her beg him to keep going.

To her, it felt like he pushed deeper with each thrust, begging her body to swallow him whole and allow him the grace of becoming one with her. Her eyes were so low, yet she was seeing more clearly than ever. Seeing his aura radiate off of his broad shoulders and tousled hair - it was a haze of blue and purple. But hers were shades of reds and oranges in his eyes, a fiery tyrant that bullied him with praise and adoration.

His nose tickled her chin while his lips made their way up to plant another kiss on her sweet, sweet mouth. The alcohol in her perfume singed the hairs along his face and nostrils, pilling the hairs on his arms.

"Harder, ngh- please," she murmured.

He saw her blown pupils roll gently beneath her eyelids as beads of sweat formed along her hairline. Her breathing was shallow and short. She was close.

Licking his reddened lips, he pushed her knees back until they were flush with her jawline and shifted his body weight from his knees to his toes, then changed the force of his hips without changing the rhythm.

She loved that he listened to her: harder did not mean faster, and he fucking perfected it. Almost like he knew just how hard to go.

Joel drove into her deep enough to make her cunt squelch and clench around his thick cock. He felt clumsy inside of her like he was tripping up over his own orgasm. He felt all of her ridges and curves, the smooth and the rough; everything intensified in a way that could only be described by the God he didn't believe in.

But she had him questioning that in the back of his mind. He would have believed that she was God herself if he wasn't aware of how high he was. She looked celestial, her mouth forming an 'o', and her hair sprawled around her shimmering face. Even with her mascara flaking and running slightly, she seemed so content, so pleased.

Joel's desperation to come inside of her was almost primal, instinctive... If her nails weren't digging so sharply into his forearms, he wasn't sure whether or not he would have been able to hold back.

He didn't ease up on her throughout her orgasm. Honestly, he didn't think too much about it. He never wanted right now to end. With a sense of ecstasy coursing through his veins, he managed to turn into something he tried so hard not to be. He craved her body, her kisses.

He pulled her into his lap before resting his cheek on her breast. He inhaled the musk of her sweat deeply, cherishing the divine woman she was. She felt as beautiful as she looked. She fucked just as sweet as she smelled.

His clammy hand ran over her flexed calve as she bounced on him. Her movements were sloppy from his tight grip, not that either of them cared. She was sure not to go too high or come down too hard, allowing her pussy to drip white remnants of her orgasm onto his balls. He licked and kissed and bit her tits as a submissive thank you.

She kissed the top of his hair, strumming her fingers along his scalp. "Joel," she moaned, "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby," he grunted almost instantly.

Raising his head to look back at her blissed out face, he pulled her even closer. His chin dug into her clavicle, but his neediness only made her laugh softly.

Joel's face twitched as his body proposed its orgasm, his dick throbbed roughly against her sensitive walls. She gasped, taking it as a sign to fuck him faster despite the burning in her legs. He winced at her arms weighing heavier into his collarbones but just clawed at her ass to power through the pain.

She placed a hand over his heart and pushed gently, forcing him to feel the thumping against his chest. He felt so much of his anger and pain dissipate beneath her touch, instilling love and peace in place of it.

"You're so precious," he whispered. A lovely smile rose onto her face, one that drove him crazy. He looked at her with big puppy eyes that threatened to fill with tears. She licked along her teeth and bit her bottom lip. "I love y-you..." He knew he didn't mean it and that she didn't either, but he missed being able to say those words. "Tell m- oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Tell me you love me," he pleaded. "Tell me you love me 'til I cum, baby."

"I love you, Joel.”

His eyes screwed shut, face falling into the curve of her neck.

“I love you, baby. I want you to cum for me,” she moaned, breathless from exhaustion.

His nails dug deeper into her flesh, he was clinging onto his climax as much as possible, wanting to wait long enough for it to destroy him.

“Oh, Joel, fuck!” She yelped. “I love you, I love you!”

And he broke.

His nails scratched lines up her back whilst he screamed into her chest. Her pussy throbbed against his sensitive cock from the arrival of her second orgasm, heightening his sensitivity.

A few tears shed his eyes at the closeness; Joel felt like he was falling into the Earth. He was so dizzy and confused, cornered by the affection clouding his judgment.

“I love you,” she whispered into his scalp, placing one last kiss before climbing off of his lap.

He hissed at the last stroke of her cunt but helped her lay down, using his t-shirt to prop her head up.

“I love you,” he said before kissing her head.

“You should drink some water.”

As soon as she said that, he felt the itchiness in his dry throat. He grabbed water from the table a few feet away and chugged as much as his stomach could handle.

“Will you bring me the joint and a lighter?”

Joel fulfilled her request and sat the water next to her, immediately looking back at his work in progress while she got herself situated.

A few moments passed before she spoke again. “Are you coming down?”

Confused, he looked down at her but saw that the colors weren’t so loud anymore. “Think so…”

“Take a few hits. It’ll help.”

He hesitated but sat down and did as she told him.

“Thank you,” he said after briefly coughing and handing the joint back to her. “I think whatever that… Pill was actually helped.”

“If it wasn't the pill, it must’ve been the sex,” she teased, earning a laugh from him. She tapped his shoulder and pointed her head towards his mural.

ᝰ

A rough pounding woke Joel up from his slumber. He groaned, pressing the meat of his palm to his forehead and slowly sitting up before remembering the girl was still next to him.

He watched her sleep soundly, mouth slightly parted and a gentle snore creaking from her throat. The memories of last night flooded his mind, and while they were somewhat fuzzy, he remembered clear as day how it felt.

He felt most of his questions had been answered by something more complex than communication. It was frightening yet calming at the same time.

Her body stirring regained his focus, and he knew she must have been feeling the same tension headache as he was when she groaned before her eyes fluttered open. She squirmed from the cold air and looked up at the hungover man, smiling as she remembered the night before.

“Morning, Joel,” she said with a playful tilt.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said. “Your head hurtin’?”

“Yep,” she grunted while sitting up. “Ever been to that café on thirty-fourth street?”

He shook his head.

“I’ll take you there for some coffee and breakfast. My treat,” she told him.

Her eyes landed on the big, dull wall that had been taunting Joel for weeks, only to find it was a brightened, complete piece of art.

She admired the woman's beauty and asked him without looking away, “S’that me?”

Joel smirked and reached for his boxers, standing to put them on.

“She’s beautiful, ain’t she?” Joel kissed her head and walked away, leaving the woman alone to admire his masterpiece…

Her.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #tlou smut #joel tlou #tlou #tortured artist!joel

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hayleythesugarbowl · 11 months

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Could you do a romantic x reader oneshot on Captain Man ❤️ From- Henry Danger (Where a beautiful Fashion Designer in training (from: "Storybrooke, Maine") has a encounter with Captain Man at The John Hancock Center in Swellview where she accidentally gets trapped in a elevator with him, where Captain Man quickly starts to fall in love with her and flirts with her a bit during their time being trapped until Kid Danger comes and saves them, the reader secretly starts to find Captain Man very attractive as they shared a long passionate kiss until later on they were caught making out by Kid Danger after he and Schwoz got the elevator working)

(The reader is a vegetarian, she loves reading, designing clothes, she's attracted to masked men, she loves kickboxing and blue orchids, her favorite color is blue, she's claustrophobic, In Storybrooke her old job was working as a waitress at Granny's Diner, she loves animals)

(The reader doesn't who Ray Manchester and doesn't know that he's captain man, she was hoping to find a job in Swellview)

Stuck || Ray Manchester/Captain Man x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • ray manchester masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: oneshot where you, an aspiring-fashion-designer, get trapped in an elevator with captain man on your way to a job interview

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none it’s literally just flirting

a/n: ok I actually love this idea so so much and I hope I did it justice for you. this request was so detailed so thank you babes <3 enjoy!! 💌🎀💋

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You clutched your portfolio tighter as you stepped off of the bus and into the warm, spring air. You still hadn’t gotten used to the weather here in Swellview. Compared to your hometown of Storybrooke and the cold Maine temperatures this was practically a sauna.

Pulling at your skirt, you turned your gaze upwards toward the towering building in front of you. John Hancock Center, read the giant block letters on the building’s front, Quality Fashion Since 1909.

You breathed in a sigh. This was your chance. And you weren’t going to become a famous fashion designer by standing outside on the sidewalk for hours. Walking into the establishment, you tried to give yourself a quick pep talk

Ok, you told yourself, this is what I’m here for. I will get this job. I’m going to walk in there and show them my designs and what’s the worst that could happen? I don’t get the job, have to move back to Maine, tell my parents they were right all along, and go back to waiting tables at Granny’s Diner…

Ok, so the pep talk wasn’t working. You looked down again at the paper in your hand. Floor 14, Suite B: 11:30am. You still had plenty of time—you were almost an hour early—but you just wanted to make sure you didn’t blow this. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself at your over-preparedness. You figured you could probably just sit in the lobby while you waited and go over your designs and play out the interview in your head.

Seeing no seats available in the packed building filled with well-dressed employees, you decided to try your luck upstairs—there had to be a waiting area or at least a chair on the 14th floor, right?

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you headed towards the elevator. Seeing a mirror, you studied yourself in it for a moment.

I look like a fashion designer, don’t I? You asked yourself. You looked from your (y/e/c) eyes and your (y/h/c) hair to the outfit you had spent hours last night stying in various shades of your favorite blues and realized you did. You’d worked like heck to get here and whatever happened in this interview wouldn’t change that.

Feeling significantly more calm than you had mere minutes ago, you stepped on to the elevator. You were just beginning to open the bag clutched beneath your arm when you paused as you realized alarms were going off in what sounded like the distance. It was hard to tell from the muffled elevator. Suddenly the elevator stopped—on the 6th floor according to the lit-up buttons near the doors.

Without warning the doors burst open, shoved apart with inhuman strength, and someone stepped into the small elevator.

Captain Man.

You recognized him instantly. Who wouldn’t? Apart from his infamous red-and-blue superhero suit, it also had something to do with the fact that he was one of the biggest celebrities in Swellview, rivaled only by his sidekick Kid Danger. Something you had to get used to when you moved here not even 4 months ago.

Personally you didn’t quite understand the idolization people had for them. I mean sure, they’d saved a lot of people over the years, or so you’d heard. But other cities survived without superheroes, didn’t they?

However, as Captain Man stepped into the elevator, you couldn’t argue that the man was an imposing figure—and attractive.

“You go around the back, Kid. I’m getting on the elevator” he shouted into his wristwatch.

“Why can’t I take the elevator and you climb 18 flights of stairs?” you heard what must have been Kid Danger’s reply over the communication device.

“Just do it!” the superhero argued back.

He stepped all the way into the elevator, not seeming to notice that another person was in it, and began pushing the button for the top floor repeatedly.

You took a step backwards.

“I don’t think that’s going to make it go any faster,” you commented.

“Look lady, I think I know what I’m d—” he turned around finally looking at you and stopped abruptly. “Hello there, I’m Captain Man, maybe you’ve heard of me?” He smirked as he sauntered over to you, “And you are?”

“(Y/n)”

“Well (Y/n), what’s a beautiful woman like yourself doing at the John Hancock Center?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the superhero. You’d heard he was a flirt. Guess the rumors were true. “I’m here for a job interview. I’m a fashion designer. Or, I will be, if this interview goes well.”

“No way! I’m somewhat of a fashion designer myself. I did design this,” he gestured to his Captain Man suit with pride. You chuckled as he began posing, showing different elements of his superhero suit.

“Stay focused, man!” Kid Danger’s voice startled you again.

“Don’t you have stairs to climb?” Captain Man yelled into his watch as he scowled and headed back towards the front of the elevator.

“What exactly is going on?” You asked as you tried to understand what was happening.

Captain Man turned to look at you. “Just your average burglary, nothing I can’t handle, beautiful.” He winked at you, and you found yourself blushing. You shook it off.

“And you’re pushing the button to every floor, because? I do have a job interview to get to.”

He paused as if to consider this when a rumbling sound and the building shaking as if victim to an earthquake interrupted his train of thought. You clutched your portfolio tighter.

“What was that?”

“I’m sure it was nothing,” he waved his hand in the air “Don’t worry, I have everything under contr—”

The place shook harder and this time even Captain Man himself seemed vaguely worried.

“Kid? Situation?” He asked his watch.

“I think Minyak is on the roof and he’s somehow weakening the structure of the building,” came his reply, “I’m going to—” His voice was cut off by a loud bang and then nothing happened.

Silence filled the elevator.

“Kid? KID?” When no response came, Captain Man rushed to push the button for the top floor again.

“Dr. Minyak?! You said this was a ‘simple burglary’!” You shouted over the noise of—whatever was going on up on the roof—as you watched the lights on the buttons move along the wall while the elevator went up and up. From what you had heard, Dr. Minyak was one of Swellview’s most notorious criminals. You sighed and glanced at your watch. Luckily you were early to your interview.

“It was a simple burglary! Dr. Minyak came here to steal all the designs for the Swellview Fashion Show this weekend so he could win once and for all—or something like that.” He shrugged.

You tilted your head to the side, “Minyak? Fashion show?”

“I don’t know, something about a childhood dream and a lost career in fashion…” He rolled his eyes. “But that doesn’t explain why he’s on the roof and why—”

A loud bang filled your ears followed by a sound like metal scraping metal and the elevator stopped moving abruptly. Captain Man tried opening the doors, but they wouldn’t budge.

“Aw sweet beans and rice! Minyak jammed the elevator!” Captain man slammed his fist into the elevator wall. “I should’ve just taken the stairs!”

You gulped

“Stuck?”

You had never exactly been a fan of elevators, I mean sure they saved you having to walk multiple flights of stairs. But you didn’t exactly love the idea of being in a small metal box suspended between floors of a tall building. And being extremely claustrophobic didn’t exactly help.

The superhero began pushing the emergency call button over and over until with a snap! it popped off.

“Oops,” he muttered sheepishly. “Great, now I’ll have to call Schwoz, if I can get a signal, and meanwhile Minyak is getting away again and Kid Danger could be in trouble—”

He kept talking but you weren’t paying attention.

Stuck. Trapped.

You sucked in a long, deep breath. The air in the elevator suddenly seemed warmer and you pulled at the collar of your shirt. Was the elevator getting smaller or was it just you?

“Alright Schwoz, just get here as soon as you can.” Captain Man hung up the phone and turned to you, “Help is on the way, so we should be outta here in about—(Y/n)?”

He took in your panicked expression and your arms clutching the railing as your knuckles turned white, your back now firmly pressed to the wall.

“(Y/n), are you ok?”

“Oh I’m great. No, other than being suspended who-knows-how-many feet in the air with no escape, I’m doing just fine,” you snapped.

“Hey, it’s ok, I have someone coming who’s going to get us out of here. Shouldn’t be more than,” he hesitated, “an hour?”

“An hour?” You were definitely going to be late to this job interview.

“Look, I’m doing the best I can, alright? And for now, how are you with small spaces?”

“We don’t exactly get along,” you said, “We are going to get out of here, aren’t we?”

“Trust me,” he put a hand on your arm gently, “nothing bad’s going to happen to you.” As if you punctuate this remark, the elevator shook, sending chills down your spine.

“Do you mind!” Captain Man yelled up at the roof of the elevator. “Anyways, don’t worry, I promise we’ll be rescued in plenty of time for you to get to your interview.”

You certainly hoped so. You couldn’t miss this opportunity. Captain man leaned on the wall across from you and sighed. He was silent for a moment, and then—

“So, fashion designer, huh? I mean, what’s your story? How’d you decide that’s what you wanted to do?” He said

“What’s my story?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well I figure if we’re going to be trapped in here, might as well get to know each other,” he shrugged, “And it’ll take your mind off the whole walls-closing-in thing.”

You rolled your eyes at him but you couldn’t help but smile.

“Alright,” you started, taking a deep breath. It couldn’t hurt to pass the time talking to the superhero in front of you. “Well, I’ve always wanted to design fashion, ever since I was a little girl. I grew up in Storybrooke, Maine and, well, there weren’t exactly a lot of opportunities presenting themselves in the fashion industry, so I came to Swellview.”

“Of course, my parents don’t exactly approve of me throwing away my schooling and ‘stable career’ to take a chance at fashion. But they gave me 6 months to come out here and pursue my dream before I’m cut off completely. Or I’ll have to go back to Maine, back to college, and beg my boss at Granny’s Diner to let me back on, which won’t exactly be easy given the way I left, proclaiming my success before it even happened.”

“I’ve been to exactly 9 interviews, so,” you gestured around you, “here I am. Tenth times the charm!”

You instinctively clutched your portfolio closer as you thought back to the day you left your hometown and decided to take a risk for a future you wanted to have. You remembered the nervous feeling mixed with excitement and adrenaline as you got on the plane headed for Swellview. You didn’t regret it, not in the slightest. It only made you remember how important this interview was, a determined look setting on your face.

Captain Man watched you intently as you told him your life story. You couldn’t believe how easy it was to just tell him everything. Everything that had been worrying you for the past few months. The knot in your chest began to loosen. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t, leaving the elevator silent save for the distant sirens you assumed had something to do with Dr. Minyak.

You crossed your arms, “Well, what about you? Why’d you decide you wanted the superhero gig? I assume you weren’t born in a mask and spandex.”

He chuckled, “Well, first of all there’s the fact I get stuck in elevators with gorgeous women during my job…”

You smiled and tried to ignore the blush once again heating your cheeks.

“And also, I get to save people. I mean, Kid Danger and I have kept this city safe from a lot of dangerous people. I guess I just really care about the citizens of Swellview and protecting them. Honestly, I don’t know what all of you would do without me,” he smiled haughtily, laughter in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, smiling back at him, “Oh I don’t know, I think we’d be all right.”

“Not a fan of superheroes?” He feigned offense.

“I just think people can handle themselves, without superheroes saving them all the time,” you answered truthfully.

“Maybe you just haven’t been saved by the right superhero,” he challenged with a smirk.

“You call this saving me?”’ You asked playfully.

“In due time,” he said, “Right now, I’m entertaining you aren’t I? Bet you aren’t thinking about being trapped in a tiny elevator anymore.”

“I wasn’t.”

You couldn’t deny it though, you were enjoying his company. You had forgotten about your current situation. Or if not forgotten, at least became more calm. You took a deep breath and shifted your designs to the other side of your body. Captain Man followed the movement with his eyes.

“Hey, what’s in the bag?” He asked, indicating the pack containing all of your designs.

You instinctively put your arm over it, “Oh, this? iIt’s nothing, just some of my designs,” you shrugged.

“Mind if I take a look?” He reached out an arm and reluctantly you handed it over to him. What did you have to lose?

Captain Man took the bag from you and slid to the ground to examine your sketches and drawings. You sat down with him chewing your thumbnail nervously. You’d never really shown anyone your ideas before, other than possible employers and that hadn’t exactly worked out too well.

You glanced up at Captain Man self-consciously. He had now taken out multiple of your designs and was flipping through them, his eyebrows raised. You chastised yourself for being this anxious to hear his opinion. Your confidence didn’t depend on what he thought of your designs…did it?

“Wow, (Y/n), these are…” He looked up at you, awe on his face, “If these people don’t give you a job they’re out of their minds!”

You gave him an embarrassed smile, your face warm. It meant a lot to you to hear him—anyone—say that. He handed you your deigns back, his gloved hand brushing yours as he did so.

You looked up at him and he met your eyes, but you couldn’t quite read his expression as his eyes bore into yours.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You were both startled by a pounding on the elevator door. Your heart in your chest, you sprung up and Captain Man man jumped in front of you, his arm across your body as he shielded you from whatever was on the other side of the door.

“Hello?” Captain Man called

“Yes?” The voice called back

Captain Man’s expression broke into relief as he shook his head smiling, “Schwoz!” He lifted the arm that had been across your body and rested his hand on his hip.

So this must be the man who the superhero was calling before! You almost laughed; you were saved! Even as you rejoiced, you couldn’t help but feel…not disappointed, but you weren’t quite as relieved as you thought you’d be. You’d been enjoying your time with Captain Man.

“So can you get us out of here?” He asked.

“Hmm…hopefully. The system’s really jammed,” Schwoz said, “I’m going to need to go and get some equipment. Is anyone in there with you?”

Captain Man looked over at you. “Just one smokin’ hot fashion designer,” he winked and you crossed your arms teasingly.

“Ooh can I see?” Came Schwoz’s reply.

“Kinda trapped in here, remember?” Captain Man rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right,” he said sheepishly with a nervous chuckle, “well, I’m going to go now. I’ll be right back.”

“Schwoz no, don’t leave!” Captain Man banged on the door. No reply came back. “Dang it Schwoz!”

You sighed. So close, you thought. You only hoped the strange man was, in fact, coming right back. You glanced at your watch. You still had almost half-an-hour before you’d be officially late to your interview. There was still time. However, you found yourself caring less and less about your appointment. You scolded yourself for thinking it, but you were almost glad to have a little more time with Captain Man before you’d go your separate ways. You couldn’t deny you enjoyed his company—and even his flirting.

You glanced at him and found him watching you intently. He stepped towards you.

“So, we’re almost out of here,” you said to break the silence.

He nodded. “You say that like it’s a good thing,” he said playfully.

“I bet you say that to all the girls you’re trapped with,” you shot back.

Captain Man laughed, “Not all of them, just the ones I really like.”

He took another step towards you.

“You get trapped in elevators with a lot of women, do you?”

“Just the one,” he admitted, “but I’m thinking about doing it more often.”

You were close to him now. Really close. You studied his features; the teasing smile on his face, the way his mask fit around his cheekbones, his eyes—they really were a beautiful blue, you thought—and finally his lips.

“Why?” You breathed.

“So I can do this.” He leaned towards you and suddenly his lips were on yours. Captain Man was kissing you.

And you were kissing him back. One of his hands went to your hair, the other pressed firmly against your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck tightly, his chest pressed against you. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn't believe how little you cared about your interview. And then you couldn't think of anything else but the man in front of you.

Vaguely you registered hearing a loud noise, but you ignored it. Neither of you noticed as the elevator doors were pushed open and two figures rushed in.

“Captain man you’re ok, I—My eyes, oh, my eyes are burning!” A voice exclaimed.

“Woah, I see what you mean, she is hot,” another voice said

Upon hearing the voices, you broke apart quickly. A short man with a tool belt and a teenager who could only be Kid Danger, his clothes covered in scorch marks and dust, stood in front of you. The latter was running his hands over his face, pretending to clean his eyes.

You glanced at them sheepishly. Captain Man ran a hand through his hair.

“Go on,” said the man who must have been Schwoz with a mischievous grin, “pretend we’re not even here.”

“Well, guess we didn’t need to get the elevator running, looks like you were having a great time!” Kid Danger scowled at Captain Man but you could tell he was relieved see his friend safe.

Captain Man turned towards his sidekick and Schwoz. “Anyways,” he said, “I’m glad you’re ok, Kid. And thanks to both of you for getting us out of here.”

“It was easy work really,” Schwoz joked.

A short silence filled the room. As if remembering you were there, the superhero quickly introduced you. “Oh guys, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is my assistant Schwoz—”

“Assistant?”

“—my coworker Schwoz, and you probably know my sidekick, Kid Danger.”

You guys greeted each other awkwardly until Kid Danger checked his watch and said, “Alright, we better get out of here. Minyak’s still on the run and he’s not going to capture himself. We wouldn’t really be superheroes if we just let him go.”

Captain Man turned to you. “Speaking of which, you still feel the same way about superheroes?” He smirked

“I might be revising my opinion,” you smiled

“Well, good luck with your interview (Y/n). And, hey, if you’re ever need some more design inspiration, you know, for when you’re world famous, I hear Junk N’ Stuff might be a good place to look,” he winked at you and you were still contemplating what exactly he meant by that when he leaned down and kissed you gently.

“Bye (Y/n).”

And with that the superhero and his friends were gone, rushing down the hallway to look for a super villain and bring justice to this city. You smiled to yourself scarcely believing the events of the day.

“Bye Captain Man.”

You stepped off the elevator and onto the floor, checking your watch and slinging your bag over your shoulder as you started to head towards your interview. Except this time, you thought to yourself, you’d take the stairs.

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed y’all!! i had so much fun writing this and I hope someone else has fun with it. i literally love ray and so i’m over the moon that he’s got a lil internet community 🤭 thank you to the anon who requested this <3

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bi-breyer · 2 years

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Sooty buckskin tobiano

#E A STY CR TO

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joeybaboo20 · 1 year

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MORE INCORRECT PJO QUOTES: PERCABETH EDITION

Annabeth: You remind me of the ocean. Percy: Because I'm deep and mysterious? Annabeth: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

Annabeth: Hey, can I get a sip of that water? Percy: It’s not water. Annabeth: Vodka! I like your sty- Percy: It’s vinegar. Annabeth: …What? Percy: It's vinegar, PUSSY.

Percy, sweating: Annabeth, there’s something I need to ask you- Annabeth: Finally! You’re proposing! Percy: How’d you know? Annabeth: Percy, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner. Annabeth: I even picked it up once.

Percy: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine. Annabeth: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again. Percy: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?? Annabeth: Is it working?

Annabeth: Can you cut me some slack, Percy? I’m sort of in love. Percy: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem. Annabeth: I’m in love with you. Percy: blushes Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

Percy: Fuck you. Annabeth: No u. Percy: I'm down. Annabeth: You're like 2, what the fuck- Percy: I AM NOT 2!

Percy: My hands are cold. Annabeth: Here, let me hold them. Percy: My lips are cold too. Annabeth: covers Percy's mouth with their hand

Annabeth: How much did you spend on this date? Percy: $1400. But all of it's on credit cards, so it's like $5 a month for the next 2,000 years.

Percy: I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Annabeth: Aren't you forgetting something? Percy: Uuh…hesitantly kisses Annabeth's forehead before running out. Annabeth: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

Percy: The stars are so beautiful… Annabeth: They're just giant balls of gas. Percy: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then- Annabeth: And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you. Percy: Oh…

Annabeth walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Percy, I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK. Percy, sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Annabeth: I still have no idea how I’m attracted to you… Percy: Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, and no take backs, honey.

#pjo #percy jackson incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes #incorrect pjo quotes #incorrect percy jackson #incorrect percabeth quotes #percabeth #pjo hoo toa #pjo memes #percy jackson #percy and annabeth #annabeth percy jackson #annabeth chase #annabeth pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

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kermit-coded · 2 months

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i tried to do my research -- no joke, it's been like 5 months of me doing the equivalent of immersion therapy for fandoms -- and i gotta say that while i can understand mcu Bucky fans cuz at least he got that title movie a decade ago, but i do not understand comic Bucky fandom.

but it's more than just Not Understanding, that'd be just one thing, but comic Bucky fans are WEIRD!!!!!!! to put it lightly!

like they're all obsessed with portraying Bucky -- who mind u is the oldest CA cast member since he's the only one who matches Steve's prehistoric age -- as like... a child. like the child of every single person, even ppl 20, 60, 80 years younger than him.....

and not just trying to re-interpret/re-portray him like a child dynamic-wise, but like they have a weird fascination with making him -- again mind u, the only other old ass supersoldier in the cast besides Steve unless u count random sidecharacters -- smaller and childlike and putting him in the "retro" "campy" outfits from the thrice-retconned-over (&hella racist!) oldtimey propaganda comics that were left in the past for good reason (racism)! not just bc theyve been retconned to hell n back

but that's not the weirdest part, actually. on top of all this weird OOC-ness comic Bucky fandom pushing onto the 2nd oldAssMan's dynamics w/ the other characters, & on top of fandom to "de-age" him, they all be doing the opposite for Steve and shipping him w/ Bucky -- who again, mind u are like e/o's only agemates in the cast -- and turn it into a weird d@ds0n shipping thing... even the cis dudes not even into shipping be makin jokes w their fangirl mutuals who do that!!

and not all of it feels like genuine shipping, but ALL of it feels like an extended homophobic joke all the comic fans are making w the character... it feels like a gross p*d*r*sty joke they're all in on, and coming from the outside it, it feels so gross.

Bcuz why tf are they all de-aging and shrinking Bucky down to a little boy but they shipping him with the folks they were just calling the grownups? either w Steve or w Steve's love interests and doing a weird "(step)mommy" joke........... ... It's all headcanons, but it's the SAME ppl doing BOTH of these things... at the same time... ... i checked! you find one and then you find the other! like... thats weird...

even if his comics were worth it -- it's not -- the fandom is weird as hell with the way they portray him, and the difference between that and canon (either comic or mcu canon) be throwing me for a loop bcuz wtf is going on...... it all feels like a creepy inside joke everyone else decided on b4 i walked into the room!

why would you send this to me, a dc comics blog

#soda speaks #fascinated by this unprompted rant bc i have maybe two reblogs that feature bucky in my entire blog #asked and answered #mcu #bucky barnes #marvel

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letstalkwhump · 1 year

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Let’s Talk Whump No.3

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump!

I’m Malice, from @whumpers-inc and today I’ve got the fabulous @brutal-nemesis in the house to talk about her experience with and love for whump!

Let’s talk about you! Tell us something about yourself :)

Yo, I'm Nemi, I'm in my 20s and a whumper all the way, baby. Outside of whump, I like rocks (like have an entire degree in geology like rocks), video games (Octopath Traveler, Pokemon, FE, Nancy Drew PC games...), anime (don't ask me about Chainsaw Man, I won't shut up), and hiking (rocks but in their natural habitat).

What does “whump” mean to you?

I get to stab men and laugh about it. I love violence, I am very sadistic

Your fearsome reputation is something of a legend around here. How did you find whump and what made you want to join?

Very long rabbit hole but to be less long about it, I saw some whump stuff on the blog of a pokemon tumblr I stalked (because I didn't have an account) and I was like, Hey This Is The Shit. I lurked for a while but as time went on, I wanted to talk to people about whump and share my own shit cuz I've never really had anyone to talk to about that sort of stuff (at least not without making them really concerned lol).

Being able to talk about wanting to beat up/stab/restrain a guy without concerned looks and questions is so therapeutic, honestly. Do you have a favourite(s) whump trope?

Gore, noncon surgery & body modification, vivisection, female whumper w/ male whumpee, and just general depravity!

Female whumpers, my beloveds! Speaking of favourite pieces, tell us one that you’ve written?

Uhhhh what have I written at all...mmm, well, as far as Castys things, if I had to pick one, it'd probably be Cycle-stys of Yikes . Basically it's a nice little overview of Castys losing his damn mind while he's stuck in a lab for like 240 years. It's probably one of the darkest things I've written as far as, uh, what happens, and that's saying a lot. Idk I just feel like I did a good job with describing these really fucked up actions as...whatever the hell he thought was happening.

For Erebus and Terror...it's hard. I'm really proud of the whole series, tbh, just how I've been able to develop both Erebus and Neteri over time as they change each other, but for a standout chapter...Maybe Chapter 14, Red, White, and Blue , cuz I really love the way I wrote Erebus's panic and what was happening to him from his POV without explicitly describing what was happening. And what's not to love about how upset he is in that one :)

Damn, Red, White and Blue! You’ve definitely earned your reputation..that was brutal! Is there anything new you’re working on at the moment?

Yare yare...I should get started on the next chapter of E&T at some point, shouldn't I? I mean, I have a huge AU stockpile that's basically all between me and one person and we just sit on them, so probably nothing from there for the people...So yeah, probably the next chapter of E&T whenever I get around to that and then I'll probably try to come up with something for Castys since I'm sure people miss him.

Take it from me, the people definitely miss Castys! Care to share what your writing routine usually looks like?

Hahahaha who knows, man. Back before my lil hiatus, I used to write every day whenever I had time and felt like it, but then I became Gamer Mode for a few months and I'm still working on getting out of that habit. But usually just on the couch or in my room with either my video game/anime OST playlist on shuffle (she's 59 hrs long!) or my weeb playlist (anime ops and whatnot) because if it's English words then it's harder to focus on writing, y’know. Usually I jump around in whatever chapter or piece I'm writing, writing the scenes or bits of dialogue/description as they come to me, and slowly stitching the whole thing together until it's one whole blanket boy.

Is there an easy thing for you to write, something the words just pour for? Anything you struggle with writing?

The easiest thing in the world is whatever bullshit thoughts Castys is having. He is incredibly easy to channel. Any of his dialogue or what he's thinking about comes without much thought. The words also usually flow for my classic™ incredibly long run-on sentence paragraphs that have like no breaks in them cuz it's all go go go, baby. Erebus and Neteri talking isn't too hard either, especially if they're bickering. As far as hard, probably descriptions of pain because it can hard to say how much a thing hurts over and over without being repetitive. I am also not a researcher. I will just be out here making shit up because it's MY fantasy world so I can have whatever bullshit I want!

Do you have any words of wisdom or writing advice for us?

Well, my old habit that worked for me was to try and write every day, for at least half an hour. If I end up going more, great, but if it's not working at least I tried. That and inspiration is everywhere. Steal whatever shit you like and cobble it together into something unrecognisable. It's not plagiarism cuz you're making something new. Like, E&T came from Stephen King's Misery and a magical girl anime. Go crazy, go stupid.

Go crazy, go stupid. I love it! Let’s give a shout out to your favourite writing/whump blogs, bffs or people who've inspired you. We're hyping everyone up here!

Can't not shout out the bestie @galaxywhump who has impeccable taste and bomb writing and we talk a whole lot everyday and yeah, queen shit. @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifih-wifi is another good friend and amazing writer and she's got so many different stories that everyone can find something they love. Ugh, there's a lot of other people I could talk about, but I'll give the last shout-out to @whump-side cuz her art just always hits the spot for me, so fuckin good.

Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to us today. Is there anything you like to add?

Don't be afraid to be a little bit silly, lads, we're here to have fun and it doesn't have to be the most serious shit in the world for it to be good whump. we love being silly and crazy.

Thanks for dropping by @brutal-nemesis !

And to all the readers, have a whump-derful day!

#whump interviews #whump community #whump spotlight #lets talk whump #ltw

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