-Recording begins-
Spider-Man: Hi folks! I’d like to give a PSA to my usual villains, and anyone else with ideas for the next two months.
Spider-Man: *holds up a brick sized lump of metal* See this? It’s titanium!
Spider-Man: *starts flattening it out and shaping it*
Spider-Man: See, we all know that I’m crazy strong, but I never wanna really hurt anybody right? Right. While that hasn’t changed, something very important does right around this time of year.
Spider-Man: *pulls off a glove and pulls a chunk into a long stem with his nails carving lines for added texture*
Spider-Man: See, this is what we like to call exam season. Anybody who knows anything about college can tell you that it drives people up the wall, and I already climb mine when I’m antsy.
Spider-Man: *starts winding the thin sheet around the stem, delicately crimping petals in place*
Spider-Man: I do wanna be clear that this isn’t a threat, okay? I’m still not interested in crossing the line, which brings me to my point.
Spider-Man: *throws the titanium rose at the brick wall behind him, stem first, and embeds it all the way through*
Spider-Man: /That/ was restrained because I could focus enough to have full control. If I’m extremely tired or otherwise distracted, there’s just as much risk of me slipping up as someone operating heavy machinery. I’m probably not going to remember what sleep is for two whole months, so remember!
Spider-Man: *pulls out a brick and snaps it like a cookie*
Peter fucking Parker: Don’t.
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Oh, please, I must know now… Donnie during mating season??? :D I’m loving ur writings about this :)
alright you thirsty purple fans, it’s time!
sidenote: i am. so glad. that people are enjoying these. they’re a lot of fun to write!
double sidenote: i have added a link to my masterpost to all my bayverse mating season headcanons! you can also find them here
sooooo donnie. he's a freak in the sheets, you cannot change my mind. so especially strong spicy warning for this one 🌶️
Donnie is extremely matter of fact about mating season. The first time he brings it up with you, he’s more nervous about your answer than he is shy about explaining what it entails. (You couldn’t hear the words, but you did hear him muttering to himself before he came up to ask you. You suspect it was a pep talk.) He is very thorough when explaining mating season in general and how it affects him in particular. You are grateful and also a little turned on by the time he’s done.
Before you were in the picture, Donnie used to work himself until his system overloaded and he passed out during this time. Now he finds himself working a lot less, because he has you to focus on. He appreciates that you make him spend more time on leisure and don’t let him overwork himself. He also appreciates that you do let him work at least a little when the desire hits. Getting to cuddle with you is a surefire way to get him to rest when he needs it though. As long as you’re nearby, he’s happy to do whatever.
Donnie is a talker in general, but it gets ramped up to 100 when it’s his season. Unless his mouth is busy doing… other things… it’s basically a 24/7 stream of consciousness fest. Mostly it’s about you. How much he loves you, what in particular he loves about you, how exactly he wants to make love to you. His morning star, his starlight, his celestial beauty. Sometimes, though, he’ll interrupt himself to talk about something that just occurred to him about one of his projects. It never fails to pull a laugh out of you and make him rub the back of his neck in (adorable) embarrassment.
He enjoys physical affection and often seeks it out from you, and this holds true during his season. He won’t whine or get grumpy if you don’t want to be touching him all the time (*cough* like his brothers will *cough*), but he does prefer if you’re in contact with him somehow. He enjoys watching movies with your head on his lap and your hand in his. He especially likes it when you're on top of him.
Donnie is used to just taking care of himself whenever necessary, AND he is used to handling delicate things during his season. So there is a lot of gentle manhandling when the time comes. You can't do anything particularly engaging because he will come up and interrupt you whenever to have sex. IF you are wearing clothes at all (not often), you cannot wear underwear or pants, at most a skirt. That way he can just lift it up and enter you whenever the urge hits. He is especially fond of doing this when you're sitting on his lap while he's working (... "daddy's little cockwarmer").
Having you around does not mean that all of his toys go unused, oh no. He is very considerate, and would rather resort to them when you're getting rest. (He got your permission to stare at you while you slept and he used his toys. So considerate.) He also came up with some new toys that the two of you can use together. Having toys custom designed for your pleasure? Well. It really adds to the experience of mating season.
He likes to take his time and study you. He is always coming to you with a new experience he wants to try. He does get a lot of pleasure out of trying new things, but he mostly just wants to know how you'll react. He is intimately familiar with your body and how it reacts, and he wants to see if those reactions hold true when different stimuli are applied. His prodigious brain is always working. He particularly likes when something catches you off guard and a surprised gasp comes out of your mouth.
Donnie is not overtly possessive, even in his season. But there is always one hickey very carefully placed somewhere noticeable that you can't cover easily. He knows just how much force to use to leave an imprint of his hands without hurting you more than you enjoy. And if he catches someone looking at you? You will probably be walking a little funny the next day. When he ties you up (he enjoys tying you up. a lot.), he'll take a minute to sit back and observe you, pleasuring himself to thoughts of how you belong to him the same way he belongs to you.
When his season is over, his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you while the both of you sleep it off. He won't leave the bed, not even to work, until he deems you fully rested. (He will work in bed while you sleep on his plastron though.) His second favorite thing to do is bathe you. He takes his time to make sure every inch of you is clean and cared for. It's a lot like going to a spa, because Donnie did a lot of research into spas so that he could replicate that experience for you. And if you give him a little pampering in return? You'll get to hear him chirp and churr in complete satisfaction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic
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whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!
this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!
warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her.
So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak.
You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work
you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then
nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place.
On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after
it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him.
but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening.
its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail.
Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn
its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench.
there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency.
when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-
all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river
Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay
“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.”
he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself.
but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything
its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found.
Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there.
Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames.
“We’re gonna find her, but not there.”
So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did.
He became a smuggler because of it.
Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way.
But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course.
The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him.
But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles
“You think she would have wanted this for you?”
the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence.
“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.”
All he can do is nod.
It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit.
It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live.
Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago.
its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo”
when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them.
Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands.
He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face.
Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity.
“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?”
Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be.
But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.
“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.”
Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again.
“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.”
He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples.
“One.”
The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun.
“Two”
Wait. No, they both do.
“Three.”
Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins.
“Four.”
Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet.
Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?”
Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless.
Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.
When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same.
She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head.
“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”
He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun.
“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?”
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