#Joel Berry II

[babycakezfix]

🍒Favorite Fics🍒

MDNI, 18+

all of the following contain smut

Last Updated: 01/30/24

*none of these are my works, just wonderful amazing fics that ive found, all credit goes to the wonderful authors, also none of the gifs are mine💋*

ps: I will continually update when I find more gold 🫶

Joel Miller

ONESHOTS

Dangerous - enimies to lovers, post breakout, slight angst, smut

Starving - strangers to lovers, smut, slight angst, post-breakout

For Science - friends to lovers, period sex, comfort/fluff

Crave - strangers to lovers, smut, sex worker reader

stranger than a stranger - manipulation, very dark joel, NONCON, perv joel, smut

patrol - caught masturbation, patrol w/ joel, smut

lazaretto - sex pollen, feral joel, !!!!NONCON!!!!

hunger - sex pollen, dubcon, after starving you and joel eat mysterious berries, slight brat!reader, age gap

healed - injured!reader, freinds to lovers, almost noncon (but joel saves reader)

one bed - smut :), stubborn joel (as always), pining (kinda)

alone and forsaken - cockwarming, hurt/comfort, horny!reader, their desperate

buzz - dbf joel, innocent (ish) reader, alcohol, smoking weed, age gap (legal)

truth or dare - dubcon!!! (but reader initiated everything), reader had a sex dream about modurn!au joel and was dared to see how far he'd go, age gap, rough, actually disgusting :)

SERIES

his favorite girl, part i - absolutely amazing, slight smutish? guitar playing joel, no outbreak au, angst

sensational; part ii - find part one on the fic, innocent reader, friends to lovers, smut, angst

Aches - perv joel (🫶), friends to lovers, innocent reader, smut

thoughts - part 2 to aches, friends to lovers, smut

monsters - enemies to lovers-ish, joel and reader clash, reader used to be innocent but now both her and joel are kinda "monsters" as the title says, but they both have a soft spot for ellie

teeth - tension finally breaks, smut, joel makes it seem like a business transaction but they are literally in love with each other <3

one thing i'm missing - literally the sweetest, most amazing joel fic out there. soft!joel, and soft!reader, they're blind, pining, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

feelings on fire - reader is back home from college to her extremely religious parents, joel miller is the new neighbor, corruption, age gap, inexperienced/virgin reader, joel kinda scares me in this ngl

Din Djarin

ONESHOTS

First - (a03 link) virgin din, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst

where to start - virgin din (virgin din owns my heart), slight dom reader, fluffish

virgin mando - virgin din, shy din, slight dom reader, fluff

holy terrain - friends to lovers, sex pollen, clueless readrr, reader gets sex pollen, smut

sex pollen - sex pollen trope, fluff, smut

in the darkness - slight noncon? but enjoys it? smut, jedi reader, entering mandos dreams

midnight excursions - late night surprises, friends to lovers, awkward reader, smut, slight dom mando

just like that - virgin reader, dom mando, one bed kinda, fluff, smut

body heat - filth, absolutely wonderful, dom mando, its cold, basically anything by @absurdthirst is actually amazing, please read their whole ass masterlist 🙏🙏

blue crush - sex pollen, dubcon, rough, it's your birthday

gut wrenching - sex pollen (theres gonna be a lot of these), dubcon, thigh riding, kinda mean mando

chemical feelings - sex pollen (again), mando affected, slight voyeurism

heat - broken air conditioning and forced proximity

to be taken care of - drunk!mando, soft din, drunk sex, feeeelinggss

just a little taste - inexperienced!din, brothel, sex work (but not reader)

focus - telepathic reader, established situationship, slight dom!din, fantasies

cherry waves - sex pollen, affected!reader, mando lends a helping hand

cutting it close - din and reader are bounty hunting in a busy club, they cant be seen, fake dating-ish?

somno - very!dark!din, NONCON, somnophilia, alcoholic reader

one stowaway, why not two - sex pollen, bounty!reader, service top din, helmet stays on, dubcon

take good care - sex pollen, dubcon, service top din, this is so good, please read

deep into the wilderness - sex pollen, dubcon, din gets bit by a snake, desert sex (tatooine)

Frankie Morales

SERIES

pt. 1 endorphins - addict!frankie, best friend reader, (sex instead of drugs), this fic is actually so amazing

pt. 2 addicted - shower sex, masturbation

Ezra (Prospect)

ONESHOTS

sex pollen - (what did we expect guys, im obsessed) dubcon

Bucky Barnes

ONESHOTS

dry humping - sub bucky, smut

win you over - bathroom sex, pining, distractions, fake dating

try to relax - forced proximity, enimies to lovers, locked in a room for hours, weed!use, slight? dubcon cause of said weed, pining

SERIES

kneel, pray and obey - father barnes, literally unholy, smut, innocent reader

unholy sacrifice - 3some, smut, unholy, smutttt, innocent reader

Natasha Romanoff

ONESHOTS

stimulation - sub nat, nipple play, smut, fluffish, established relationship

straight a student - dom nat, smut, teacher x student

Wanda Maximoff

SERIES

cute little family - dark, daddy nat, mommy wanda, wandanat, innocent reader, smut, part 1 is linked to fic

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto

ONESHOTS

the panic of love - fluff, angst, smut, very fluffy smut, feeelinggss (ik, but its worth it). hes such a gentleman

Tate Langdon

ONESHOTS

ouija board - tate has been watching reader for awhile, she and her friends decide to use an ouija board, kinda? dubcon?, soft!tate, smut

eyeliner - pining, idiots in love, tate being a teenage boy!, he's honestly feral in this one

Jimmy Darling

ONESHOTS

i held my nose and took a drink - this fic is so good trust me, reader is hypnotist, love potion (sex pollen trope), drunk jimmy, its sex pollen so dubcon, they've always had a crush on each other

chantilly lace - virgin!reader, soft smut, the tupperware party, friends pressure reader into seeing jimmy, jimmy being so sweet so charming so amazing i love him so much. oh also prostitute!jimmy

Kyle Spencer

(these are probably all going to be franken!kyle cause he's so babygirl)

ONESHOTS

in the end of the night, i can feel your warmth - franken!kyle, primal?ish?, kyle does stuff off of instinct, praise, sweet kyle, sexual guidance/coaching

feed my frankenstein - primal!kyle, franken!kyle, stripper!reader, zoe and madison are irresponsible(in this), biting, rough smut, blood

unsupervised tablet time - kyle somehow comes across p0rn on his tablet, he comes to you for help, slight dubcon? at the start, so fluffy, the fluffiest

Kai Anderson

ONESHOTS

howlin' for you - dubcon, slight NONCON? reader is winters best friend, rough, enemies to lovers (but not really), halloween :) this one is honestly so hot

Peter Maximoff

ONESHOTS

Bitchin - smut without plot, slight public stuff, he's so babygirl

sunlight - smut, clairvoyant reader, porn with plot, virgin reader, its honestly so good, please read it

SERIES

pt 1 pt 2 honeysuckle - sex pollen (I'm so sorry its my favorite) smut, porn with plot, this is amazing, beautiful, so hot.

[enpr-ss]

FINALE!!!

“I could hurt you all right now but I won’t” - Joel

“Bdubs you’re taller than Joel” - etho. Joel immediately shoots fireworks at him.

Of course they got him with the buttons. Of course. The wardens! The nest! How did etho fail to mlg. RIP. That ladder shot of Martyn was BEAUTIFUL!! Has Cleo not gone into the nether before this entire series? Bro. THE NETHER PORTAL TRAP WORKED!!!! gem digging him out was such a jumpscare holy shit. He lasted a lot longer in the 3v1 than I expected. Very good.

Of course bigb died when he accidentally muted and couldn’t talk his way out of it.

Martyn funniest death. LOL.

Gem’s pov is so good holy. She hunted down etho and with her girly voice cheerfully proclaiming murder its fantastic!!! Grian really did a lot of damage to them holy shit. Scott’s sacrifice… at the secret keeper too 😭😭😭🫡🫡🫡 Pearl teaming up with scar was NOT what I expected.

Joel really killing himself with all the traps LOL. HE HIT ETHO OFF THATS SO COOL.

Pearl is so used to decked out that she laughs at the wardens and snacks on berries. Rip murder camel. The camel is dead, long live the camel! THE FINAL TWO!!!! Scar might actually win this with a punch II bow and thorns. SHE DIED TO FALL DAMAGE!!! well played. The camel lives!!!!

He got betrayed by tango and then he just spleefed tango like that. He was such a good hunter of Skizz; especially that underwater bow shot. Giving skizz worse than death. Trader Scar’s one last trade. Ugly stepson LOL. Bigb’s back rooms really creeping people out as intended. That pearl and kill on etho was beautiful. HE KILLED ETHO YET AGAIN LOL. IS THAT ALL 3 TIMES??? INCREDIBLE. I can’t believe scar is still able to talk his way into alliances and boding over common enemies. How does he always do this. WHAT A SAVAGE ONE LINER ON CLEO. HE HAS OVER 40 HEARTS!! Him getting impulse was CLEVER!!! Scar is so on fire this series and this episode. That pvp with gem was pretty good! They traded roughly equally but he has better hearts and armor and Pearl lol. HE DIDNT KNOW HE WON BECAUSE HE DIDNT GET THE HEARTS OR THE KILL MESSAGE AGAHAHA. CLASSIC. and he hit the succeed button!! What an ending.

Scar showing Pearl and Gem + Scotts that sacrifice isn’t the best way.

Rewatching and I realized that as opposed to grian winning 3rd life on a cliff during the day, Scar won in a ravine at night.

[therecordchanger62279]

THE BEST WRITTEN SONGS OF ALL-TIME

     Because I have zero innate musical ability, the idea that someone can sit down with a musical instrument, and create an original song out of thin air is magic to me. Songwriting is a craft, but it’s inspiration that makes a good song into a great one. There are songwriters who seem able to turn out high quality songs in perpetuity. There are others who write maybe one or two great songs, and are never heard from again. So, I made a list of what I think are the 50 best written songs I’ve ever heard. These are in no particular order. I’ve listed the title followed by the songwriter or songwriters, and in parentheses is the performer I most enjoy hearing do the song – although most of these songs have been recorded countless times by a variety of artists. You can probably find all of these on YouTube or any of the streaming services. Most have lyrics, but some do not. But, it’s hard for me to imagine any of these songs being recorded by anyone with talent, and not retaining the brilliance with which the song was written.

Claire de Lune by Claude Debussy (Eugene Ormandy & The Philadelphia Orchestra)

Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin (Zubin Mehta & The New York Philharmonic, Gary Graffman, piano)

A Change Is Gonna Come by Sam Cooke (Sam Cooke)

Coal Miner’s Daughter by Loretta Lynn (Loretta Lynn)

Hello Walls by Willie Nelson (Faron Young)

I Left My Heart In San Francisco by George Cory and Douglass Cross (Tony Bennett)

God Bless The Child by Arthur Herzog, Jr. and Billie Holiday (Billie Holiday)

Eleanor Rigby by Paul McCartney and John Lennon (The Beatles)

Blind Willie McTell by Bob Dylan (Bob Dylan)

A Remark You Made by Wayne Shorter (Weather Report)

She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel (Billy Joel)

Roll Me Away by Bob Seger (Bob Seger)

Margie’s At the Lincoln Park Inn by Tom T. Hall (Bobby Bare)

Angel From Montgomery by John Prine (Bonnie Raitt and John Prine)

Rainy Night in Georgia by Tony Joe White (Brook Benton)

You Never Can Tell by Chuck Berry (Chuck Berry)

Where or When by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart (Dion and The Belmonts)

American Pie by Don McLean (Don McLean)

It Was a Very Good Year by Ervin Drake (Frank Sinatra)

Gentle On My Mind by John Hartford (Glen Campbell)

Early Morning Rain by Gordon Lightfoot (Gordon Lightfoot)

Book of Rules by Harry Johnson and Barry Llewellyn (The Heptones)

Highwayman by Jimmy Webb (The Highwaymen)

American Music by Ian Hunter (Ian Hunter & Mick Ronson)

That’s Entertainment by Paul Weller (The Jam)

Song of Bernadette by Leonard Cohen (Jennifer Warnes)

Jazzman by Carole King and David Palmer (Carole King)

Talking Back to The Night by Steve Winwood and Will Jennings (Steve Winwood)

My Favorite Things by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II (John Coltrane)

Don’t It Make You Want to Go Home by Joe South (Joe South)

Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down by Kris Kristofferson (Kris Kristofferson)

Heart Like a Wheel by Anna McGarrigle (Linda Ronstadt)

I Am a Town by Mary-Chapin Carpenter (Mary-Chapin Carpenter)

Footprints by Wayne Shorter (Miles Davis Quintet)

Pleasant Valley Sunday by Gerry Goffin and Carole King (The Monkees)

This Old Town by Jon Vezner and Janis Ian (Nanci Griffith)

Brooklyn Roads by Neil Diamond (Neil Diamond)

Thrasher by Neil Young (Neil Young & Crazy Horse)

Box of Rain by Robert Hunter and Phil Lesh (Grateful Dead)

Is That All There Is? By Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller (Peggy Lee)

Louisiana 1927 by Randy Newman (Randy Newman)

King of the Road by Roger Miller (Roger Miller)

America by Paul Simon (Simon & Garfunkel)

The Sound of Silence by Paul Simon (Simon & Garfunkel)

Children’s Crusade by Sting (Sting)

My Girl by Smokey Robinson and Ronald White (The Temptations)

Green, Green Grass of Home by Claude “Curly” Putnam, Jr. (Tom Jones)

Downtown Train by Tom Waits (Tom Waits)

The Whole of The Moon by Mike Scott (The Waterboys)

My Heroes Have Always Been Cowboys by Sharon Vaughn (Willie Nelson)

[nightmarefuele]

muse directory.

primaries in big. repression is a huge theme on this blog. smut happens (usually in gruesome ways), but don't expect it.

Dune, Star Wars, general gritty sci-fi;

na-Baron Feyd-Rautha ; austin butler ; draws 98% from the '24 film. Verosha Aniseya ; amandla stenberg Qimir | The Stranger ; manny jacinto ; might feature a knight verse in addition to some canon Ren (of 'the' Ren) ; adam driver ; a heavily divergent/'oc-ified', post(usually)-snoke, visceral horror, gritty lean from star wars' kylo ren. Shin Hati ; ivanna sakhno ; ahsoka. Kylo Ren ; adam driver ; as close to kylo 'canon' as i'm capable of writing, but solely draws from tfa characterization. Mae-ho Aniseya ; amandla stenberg Paul-Muad'Dib Atreides ; timothee chalamet ; leans on the book(+ messiah) from time to time. Lady Margot Fenring ; léa seydoux. Officer KD6-3.7 ; ryan gosling ; blade runner 2049 . Ezra ; pedro pascal ; prospect (2018). Cee ; sophie thatcher ; prospect (2018).

Interview with the Vampire;

Armand ; assad zaman Santiago ; ben daniels Louis de Pointe du Lac ; jacob anderson Claudia ; bailey bass

HotD;

Melisande Shahrizai ; oc-ified character lifted from the kushiel's series; testing ; some amalgamized version of saffron vadher with myriem boukadida's vogue covers Aegon II Targaryen ; tom glynn-carney Alicent Hightower ; olivia cooke Aemond Targaryen ; ewan mitchell Rhaena Targaryen ; phoebe campbell Jacaerys Velaryon ; harry collett Addam di Hull ; clinton liberty Rhaenyra Targaryen ; milly alcock, emma d'arcy Mysaria ; sonoya mizuno Helaena Targaryen ; hunter schafer (slightly different interpretation), phia sabban Oscar Tully ; archie barnes

villains, antiheroes;

John Constantine ; keanu reeves Loki Laufeyson ; tom hiddleston ; fuck u i don't consider post-tdw canon. ciao Jonathan Crane ; cillian murphy ; selective muse, likely won't be writing him within gotham just for the sake of gotham. want to explore him thru different subjects and lenses.

bleak, flexible, modern;

Shelly Webster ; fka twigs ; the crow (2024). Lisa Nova ; rosa salazar ; brand new cherry flavor.Code ; manny jacinto ; brand new cherry flavor. Elliot Alderson ; rami malek ; mr. robot. Phillip Price ; michael cristofer ; mr. robot. Leon ; joey bada$$ ; mr. robot. Lisbeth Salander ; rooney mara ; the girl with the dragon tattoo (2011) . Berry Rydell ; young josh hartnett ; freelance private security officer from william gibson's virtual light trilogy, based in retrofuturist nocal and socal. just a guy doing his own thing and getting caught up, routinely, somehow, in the national (but very top-secret) dickfight over some expensive glasses. + virtual reality, or whatever. Control (John Rodriguez) ; bob morley ; based on authority by jeff vandermeer, and annihilation, book and film, exploring hypnosis/mind control and consequent distrust, or outright paranoia. operates at the branch-end of a highly bureaucratic and mysterious organization. eventually ends up at Southern Reach, "...a secret agency that manages expeditions into a place known as Area X, an uninhabited and abandoned coastal area of an unnamed country which nature is gradually reclaiming." 'nature', in this context, being a cute/tame word. refers to his guns as 'gramps', 'grandpa', 'grandpap', etc. 6" tall, impassive. Tangerine ; aaron taylor-johnson ; bullet train . Colin Laney ; tbd. ; has a talent for identifying nodal points. Kid ; dev patel ; monkey man. Benny Cross ; austin butler ; the bikeriders ; characters like these are cute. i basically get to make them ocs.

apocalypse;

Joel Miller ; pedro pascal . Imperator Furiosa ; anya taylor-joy. (alyla browne.) Dr. Dementus ; chris hemsworth. Max Rockatansky ; tom hardy..

cyberpunk, modern sci-fi;

Connor (the Android Sent by Cyberlife) ; bryan dechart. Takeshi Kovacs ; joel kinnaman . Jesper Fahey ; kit young . Kaz Brekker ; freddy carter . Yennefer of Vengerberg ; anya chalotra .

cartoon;

Blitzø ; helluva boss Azula ; atla Silco ; arcane Jinx ; arcane Zuko ; atla

aus are fun. hit me with em or forever hold your peace.

ocs, always subject to adapt and update on a thread-to-thread basis;

Viggo Hurskainen ; firstname aliases include vil, nils, lars ; bill skarsgård ; 'soft' but also murdery. deranged and confused. will break away just as erratically as tag along. backdrops include scandinavian/russian/german mafia, interdimensional southern cthulhian gothic, (vampire) cult, serial killer bullshit, et al. sometimes works as 'housekeeping/cleanup crew.' (for assassinations.) (sometimes is the assassin/ation. or spy.) Oeznik Ambroicz ; cillian murphy ; loosely based on a character from an original script. flexible iterations. director of an institute/facility (sometimes agency, depending on setting and historical values) that focuses on exploring the residual elements that paranormal trauma leaves behind. these elements can be purely psychological, physical, combined, or, sometimes, paranormal themselves. in other iterations, to draw further on lovecraftian or cthulhu mythos elements, oeznik may lean more private investigator, or 'freelance', for his own mysterious and often unexplained purposes. focused and preoccupied when fixed securely inside his element; wary and suspicious when not. Nadya ; sara serraiocco, sara montpetit ; lab experiment turned a) runaway, b) interdimensional spy/assassin, c) something something time shenanigans. or simple modern ones. who the fuck knows. Dorian Yu ; christian yu ; tba. loosely based on christian yu's musical creations. relies either on psychological themes (wherein dorian is bipolar), for stories more grounded in realism, or the supernatural. heavily flexible, works into most (if not all) modern environments. can be taken a vaguely sci-fi or heavily cyberpunk route. (he's fun. smiley ball of energy and sunshine, or depressive and vaguely antagonistic shut-in.) prone to delusions, dissociation, and in severe instances, amnesia. Fifine ; anya taylor-joy ; random modern verse shenanigans. (the) Insomnium ; tbd. ; developed and hatched by a cult of space witches moreso than born. derived from an organically inorganic (or just inexplicable) substance. for tumblr purposes, blends the idea of dune's 'voice'. cult functions similarly on some levels to the b.g., but is entirely an unknown. stems from the same gritty, visceral horror environment and themes as the ren. (especially picky about where i throw this one.) space cultists tba.

[mizumech]

Day 2: Sweet/Salty

Hi! This is mizumech back for treebarkweek 2024! I wasn’t really around for Day 1 because I didn’t like how it turned out but I’m somewhat happy with Day 2, even though it’s rather experimental for me.

Without further ado, this is “le festin” at 3565 words long! I reserve all rights to put this up on ao3 and editing. Enjoy! :)

—

i. sweetberry jam

A Black Isle specialty. Sweet and long-lasting, preparation is truly an exercise in warding off temptation.

On the day the sweet-berry brambles were due to become overipe, Martyn watched as Ren gathered them all with old falconry gloves and put them into a bucket.

As is his duty, Martyn goes over to help.

How can he not?

When Martyn goes over to ask, Ren looks almost like a vampire of old tales, with red berry juice running down his chin and a sharp smile.

Yet, he is not scared. He smiles too, as he goes down to the well to draw a bucket for later.

~

When Ren comes back to the kitchen, he washes the berries in the bucket before inviting Martyn to help him to mix the portioned-out sugar and fruit.

“Back in the Black Isles,” Ren tells Martyn as he puts the berries and a third of the sugar to a modified bowl, “We would normally use glowstone dust to thicken this and add glow berries for acidity, but we can make do.”

Ren then takes two wooden pestles and hands one to Martyn, enthusiastically starting to pound the berries into the sugar.

Martyn shouts as the juice gets onto his shirt, but joins in too, bringing his pestle down onto the yet-to be macerated berries.

~

The reddish pulp goes into a glass jar and the cap is screwed on, before they realise they forgot to add all the leftover sugar back in.

Ren sighs.

After that, both Ren and Martyn take turns to try and open the jar, using cloth, forks, axe heads and teeth.

They don’t succeed.

On Ren’s thirteenth try, Martyn secretly sweeps some of the sugar into the palm of his hand, the ideas of a prank starting to form in his mind.

As Ren wraps his whole arm around the jar cap, Martyn takes aim. The amount of sugar he has doesn’t have the same weight as a snowball or an enderpearl, but the sweat from his palm has created some sort of shell that helps with the feel.

The sugar ‘ball’ nails Ren in the shoulder and Ren, to Martyn’s delight, whirls around with a dramatic gasp.

“My Hand! Must you betray me with something so sweet? You’ve just ruined me flannel!”

Martyn can only laugh and duck as Ren gathers his own ammunition.

~

Eventually, the jar finally opens, and they start sweeping the sugar back into the jar. 

It’s terribly domestic to Martyn, reminiscent of the times he used to spend sweeping snow off roofs and driveways with a daughter he’s very sure he once had but can’t quite recall the face of.

They’ve wasted about a cane-worth of sugar, but none of that really matters when they’re having so much fun, because they can always just devote a day to making more.

~

“What? All this work and I don’t even get a taste?”

“Guess you’ll just have to live long enough to taste it!”

“What if I want it now?”

“Patience, laddie. We’re going to put this underground and let the sugar draw out all the juices, and only I can uncap the jar to check on it, you got that? You can have the leftover berries if you want, though!”

Fine.

He pretends to pout as he takes a berry and rolls in sugar before popping it in his mouth. It’s not like he doesn’t also have secrets he keeps from Ren.

Some things are too important to be shared.

ii. horse curry

A Tumble Town specialty that hails from its Mezalean history. It embodies the bold, bright culture that used to flourish in the mesa before the cataclysm.

In a world so absent of meat and animals, Martyn’s gotten somewhat desperate, and has therefore bribed and blackmailed Joel into a cut of what is probably horse.

He hopes it's horse meat.

It better not be dog.

“Take it,” Joel says tersely, throwing the leg at him, as if daring him to try and challenge him “it’s not like I wanted it anyways.”

Martyn looks him in the eyes. He can see where the mesa ancestry also rests in Joel’s face. The same remnants of an accent, the same terracotta freckles, the way he wraps the horse meat with the oiled paper.

He remembers his time in Tumble Town, when the town was still developing; founded on a fateful Midweek and still roiling with multicoloured dyes and flowers.

He remembers horse curry, ladled out by old ladies with creaky, rusted joints and peeling painted makeup and served with flatbread and fortified with whatever vegetables were on hand.

Watchers above, he was hungry. Hungry for calmer times, hungry for peace, hungry for good, rich food.

Hungry. What a strange feeling, reminding him of love and care while making his mind feel jittery and restless. Martyn isn’t sure if he wants to be hungry or not.

~

In the kitchen, Martyn starts by dragging over a big pot, because he can’t have the curry overflow when he’s not looking.

Unwrapping the horse leg is less of a deal than Martyn thought his mind would make it out to be, and for one horrifyingly long second, Martyn feels afraid at what seems to be underwhelmingly nothing.

But that’s exactly it. How can it be that one of the most defining kitchen memories of Martyn’s datastream life makes him feel nothing? 

How can revisiting memory of somewhere he almost considered home make him feel…nothing?

Is he forgetting Tumble Town already?

He carefully pulls at the red ribbon holding it together, the oil paper glossy and satisfying under his fingers.

Still nothing.

Martyn really can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

When people talked about homecoming, they often portrayed it as a grand thing, about realising a sense of belonging and all that.

Maybe that’s the side effects of wandering. In a headspace where anywhere could be your home, nowhere was really your home at all.

The rest of his preparations are almost robotic, just trying to get to the conclusion where he could eat.

Maybe he didn’t want to be hungry anymore.

~

Cold water.

Horse.

Splash

Small fire.

Skim off the foam and grease.

Resist the urge to drink raw horse water.

Skim off the foam and grease.

Resist the urge—

~

When the water finally boils, Martyn sprinkles in his salt.

What was the saying, salty like the ocean?

Allium root clove, fried onions, curry leaves and all the vegetables he thinks he would be able to stomach also go into the pot, all swallowed into the rapidly darkening mix.

There’s still…nothing.

He still remembers every step, even cooking this exact dish with the other universe’s Jimmy and teasing him and the fact that diced chorus fruit was once an ingredient in the stew, and there’s still nothing.

He remembers warmth, and happiness, and fun, and he’s pretty sure he could describe the tiled floor of the kitchen with no issue at all, but he can’t feel homesick in this…game like everyone else seems to do.

Does he even remember anything at all about his old life? Did it mean anything at all?

Well, at least the next step is just waiting.

He can do that. He can even top up the enchantment on his armour while he waits!

Even if he can’t remember, he can still appreciate the process for what it is, and if this stew isn’t for him anymore, it can at least be for Ren.

If he cannot be a citizen of Tumble Town any longer, he can at least be a good Hand of Dogwarts, and serve his king like he was always meant to do.

~

Recarve the grooves and enchantment runes.

Crush up lapis with mortar and pestle.

Cough violently.

Roll powder into a tube like a blunt.

Shake powdered lapis into the lines until it flushes with the armor plate.

Cough violently again.

Smooth over.

Run the blowtorch over it like curing redstone.

Tie on the armour pieces as if it will keep you together.

Vambraces.

Pauldrons—

~

The re-enchanting helps to calm Martyn’s mind, and by the time he’s ridiculously hot and suited up, the familiar yet unfamiliar smell of the stew tells Martyn that it’s ready. Now all he has to do is reheat some of the flatbread they have and he can serve it.

But for now, it’s just for him, and travelling has made him basically immune to not liking food and burning his tongue, and he can handle it.

Ladling out a spoon of the soup into his bowl; the one made by Ren with the green glaze, he uses his fork to scrape off a chunk of the steaming soft potato in his portion and raises what was once home food to his new home, at least until he should depart again.

iii. zombie-skeleton bone broth  

A kind of stone-soup-esque concoction of a weary wanderer. It has traces of many different cultures depending on the chef, although it also tends to taste of no culture at all, due to the nature of its maker.

After the zombie apocalypse, the morning after finally comes, and the undead start to burn.

Not all parts burn in the perfectly habitable solar temperature, however, and Martyn’s travels tell him that such an event is basically a whalefall to the starving.

At first light, Martyn light-headedly drags Ren outside their bunker; blood suddenly rushing to his head from standing up.

“Come on,” he urges, already pulling crumbling redead into his arms, gesturing for the sake of both Ren and the rest of the Red Bannerknights who have followed him, “gather them. I’ll explain later. We just need to get them before they fully burn away.”

If Ren has any questions at all, about his sudden reverence for the (un)dead, he doesn’t show it.

He just…does as Martyn says.

If Martyn were a minstrel instead of a wanderer, he’d probably have something to say about a king tending to the dead on behalf of his Hand. 

Something about a holy vulture, something about the essential role of carrion creatures in the ecosystem.

So the men of Dogwarts stand, in the overnight cemetery, on the altar and in the courtyards; harvesting zombies and skeletons.

~

Back in Dogwarts, Martyn leads them in picking and scraping the rotting flesh off bones, who have all enthusiastically agreed to help after hearing about Martyn’s plans to make broth out of the bones.

Skizz, Etho, and Bigb are somewhere in the back making a mirepoix to flavour to broth, last he heard.

He glances over at them three, with lacy aprons tied around their waists as they laugh and chop vegetables.

Bigb’s chopping allium bulbs that had finally come in useful from the spring, spinning together a story about a betrayal and a friend called Terry as he does.

Skizz laughs along and points things out brightly as easy as water over rocks as he chops his carrots from the farm and the zombies alike.

Etho, with his artificial redstone eye, has been playfully force-assigned to onion duty. He laughs too, with his eye-smile pushing minute tears out of his natural eye.

Martyn…he hallucinates pork.

Martyn imagines a timeline where pigs still existed as luxury enough to eat as he cuts another zombie open, following the path of bone, and cleaning off the putrid flesh before cracking a rib off and  dropping it into a pot of seawater to draw out the metallic taste.

It takes more effort than it should for Martyn to stop himself from putting raw rotten flesh into his mouth because he craves meat, goddammit. 

It’s the pull of fonder times; older, ‘wet nurse’ recipes for the sickening loved ones; mushy or crunchy vegetables for vitality and to push the sickness out, soft meat for strength to endure the symptoms and something sweeter like applesauce or berries to give hope to see themselves through to the end.

Maybe it means something other than animal shortage that Martyn craves meat. He also craves strength, in a way; strength to protect and the strength to betray what he holds dear equally.

He cracks out another rib as Ren sweeps by in his old summer rollerblades to sweep the vegetables into a pan with what looks suspiciously like zombie fat.

The rest of the ribs and bones, supplemented by skeleton bones disappear fast, and after a few minutes, they’re all in a cauldron over a campfire, something Martyn’s learnt how to make from Jimmy and Scott.

The bone broth will end up lasting till their final days, frozen in tiffins and heated over makeshift fires for the men to take heart in.

~

“I think I might be hungrier than when I started,” Ren quips to the raucous, slightly nauseous laughter of squires and knights as he sits back in his chair after his share of Etho’s frankly radioactive-looking experimental rotten flesh chasiu.

The chasiu is glazed with what could either be honey or just sheer rot, and marbled with greenish…mold, and jiggles under Martyn’s chopstick-grip more than it should.

When he brings it to his mouth, the texture is surprisingly good and the taste is actually pretty great too, going well with the richness of the broth, but it seems to burn itself a hole in his stomach to sink into.

Luckily, hunger of people unlike him is a type of sickness easily healed, and Martyn cannot help but to oblige and ladle more bone broth into the men’s bowls, if only to give them hope that these apocalyptic wars too, would pass.

iv. datastream ramen

Before Martyn had ever entered the datastream on that fateful day, Martyn often spent dinners cross legged in front of the telly with cup noodles on his knees.

Sometimes, on holidays when he was feeling like he had enough energy, he would make himself ramen.

Today is one of those days. A ramen day for him and Ren to enjoy after a week of enchanting and farmwork.

Well, not really ramen. A lack of animals and lack of need or want to brand more hunger into his stomach with zombie flesh certainly removes from what he would normally consider ramen.

But he has an egg, salt he skimmed from ocean water, kelp, bone broth, salmon, he has wheat flour and water, and he has alliums and a dream, and he’s going to make it work.

First is the tare. He doesn't have cooking wine, so stirring salt into wine will probably have to work.

Next is soup, and he’s too lazy to make more, so he’ll just take out another portion of zombie-bone broth.

For the noodles, he doesn’t have the right type of water, but he’ll just have to make do to the best of his abilities.

It’s a lot like making pasta, but with more water. He’s not sure what that changes about the composition at all.

Egg. Flour. Water.

Knead, knead, and knead, he does. 

He puts his whole body into it, dusting flour on it every once in a while.

Knead, knead, knead.

Chop, chop, chop.

The sound of the dough hitting the countertop sounds like a head hitting an altar.

~

The aroma of the combined soup is also somewhat familiar yet unfamiliar to Martyn, in a way that signals to him yet again that he should be feeling homesick.

That’s nothing new, though.

~

Broth and tare flow into the bowl in a honey-coloured stream, salmon resting on a raft of noodles with the kelp and the fried onions.

~

When the ‘ramen’ is ready, Martyn sprinkles on some allium stems before taking the bowls to one of the watchtowers where he knows his king will be.

“Dinner’s ready, my liege,” Martyn says, purposely making his footsteps loud on the steps so as not to scare him while trying to balance the chopsticks on the bowl and preventing them from sliding off.

Ren’s rather solemn face turns to sunshine again at the mention of food, like it always does. That’s how it’s always been.

With a sigh, Martyn sets the steaming bowls down, careful not to spill a single drop.

“No meat again, my liege, I’m afraid,” Martyn jokes. It’s not really as much of a joke as it used to be, because being pseudo-vegetarian is basically a fact of life, but every ounce of humour counts, nowadays.

Ren obliges, letting slip a laugh.

Martyn also laughs in turn, as Ren fumbles with his chopsticks and tries to bring the noodles to his mouth in some sort of kingly way.

That’s what the fork in his back pocket is for, obviously.

~

“Back in…where I came from, it would have pork,” Martyn says hesitantly, mirroring Ren the first time they had made the jam, “but we can make do.”

Ren slowly turns to look at Martyn and the fork he’s offering; grip on it like a knife.

“…you’re not from Tumble Town?”

“…no. In this universe, I do come from Tumble Town. Sometimes.”

Ren doesn’t take the offered fork, instead turning his back to try to continue eating with his chopsticks.

Something lurches in the pit of Martyn’s stomach.

Maybe there really is nothing in this world for him.

Even as he eats out of the green, round bowl, the world feels like it has come back ironically round to walls, corners, and edges.

~

After the frankly torturous meal, Ren finally clears his throat.

“M—Martyn. Must you betray me with a lie?

Martyn cannot answer him. How could he as a wanderer possibly explain where he comes from?

v. golden carrot, potato and beetroot ratatouille

A Hermitcraft recipe, not often made but great for events and potlucks. It’s good with many things, like honey, broth, love, and magic etc.

On one of those awkward days where neither Martyn nor Ren have anything to do, Ren approaches Martyn with a proposition.

Over the days, both of them seem to have come to the consensus that where they come from is not nearly as important as where they will end up being, and Martyn can finally look his liege in the eyes again. 

Therefore, he agrees.

When he reaches the kitchen, the somewhat silence is holy. The knife coming down on the vegetables sounds like heads coming down on the altar again, but in a different, more reverent way.

If anything, their time not talking to each other have made them more attuned to body language, so when Ren beckons Martyn closer with his hand and his gaze falls toward the bowl of beetroots, Martyn knows exactly what to do.

Chop, chop, chop.

The red juice from the beets starts to stain his hands as he hacks into them and slices them up, the severed parts falling under his left hand in a strangely satisfying way.

It’s so strange how domestic the scene feels yet again, even with two reds holding knives in a small area. Slightly warming sun streams in through the window and everything seems…right.

Ren puts his golden carrots into a small pot of bone broth, and Martyn does the same with his beetroot slices.

There’s only one bowl left, and it’s full of potatoes. 

Martyn watches Ren look at the potatoes and then look at him. He looks at the potatoes and then he looks at Ren.

They both reach for the potatoes at the same time and then smile and then laugh together in sync.

Chop, chop, chop.

~

When the vegetables are all broiled, Ren oils a pan with some of the garlic-allium confit oil BigB made, before throwing all the vegetables in.

While the vegetables sizzle, Martyn thinks this.

He might actually be hungry.

~

“Cheers,” Ren says, holding out his fork with some vegetables on it for a toast.

Martyn can’t believe his ears. The word seems to hang in the air, like a question that he can’t quite dodge.

“Cheers,” he offers in turn. The vegetables are gorgeously rich and melty on his tongue.

“Where I…come from, I used to share this with people I loved.”

This is them, now. 

+1. the night before the final fight

When Ren finally, finally brings out the jam, Martyn almost cries.

When they made it, Martyn thought nothing of the sugar use. Just some sweetness in their lives; hope to see the end.

That would be unimaginable now; with every bit of sugarcane being put towards TNT or enchanting books.

Maybe this is the beginning of said end.

What hope can there really be, when all of them might be dead and gone?

He’s survived long enough to taste the fabled jam, and now what?

What is left to do other than to accept fate, lay down, and die?

The jam goes into two bowls of boiling water and the sweet smell starts to waft, and Martyn thinks he might be salivating, actually.

It’s a different kind of hunger now. It’s a type of thirst.

He doesn’t long to be full, or with purpose anymore; only to experience something sweet in the tragedy, something to take his mind out of the war and the stupid puppeting games.

A thirst to hope.

In a world full of harsh corners, the fact that some things come all the way round to remind Martyn that there is still love and hope out there; whether it be in the desert or in the taiga, makes him almost emotional.

@treebarkweek

[salvadorbonaparte]

2024 in Films Part II

The second quarter of 2024 and the films I watched during that time

April

Chuck Berry - Hail! Hail! Rock 'n' Roll (1987) - What I learned is that Chuck Berry was difficult to work with but probably fun to hang out with

Billy Joel: A Matter of Trust - The Bridge to Russia (2014) - Billy Joel ended the Cold War. Jokes aside a really good documentary about a historic tour and how music connects people across ideological and geographic borders. the song Leningrad hits very different now.

Next Goal Wins (2023) - the most underdog story to ever underdog story

Gran Turismo (2023) - What if gamers were oppressed???

Az Men Git Nemt Men (1982) - charmingly bad yiddish disco musical. As a living language, Yiddish has the right to have bad media produced in it. It doesn't just have to be serious, sad classics.

May

Batman Returns (1992) - Iconic

Batman Forever (1995) - Obsessed with the outfits

Batman & Robin (1997) - Obsessed with the outfits again

Chantal im Märchenland (2024) - Surprisingly fun

The Batman (2022) - Dark but like visually as well, couldn't see half the film. I rewatched The Lego Batman Movie immediately afterwards and it was such an experience. I also rewatched the Dark Knight trilogy the day before.

Sleepless in Seattle (1993) - Cute but I feel soo bad for Bill Pullman

July (I didn't log any films in June so I am including July in this quarter, sue me)

Psych: The Movie (2017) - I binge watched Psych in a worringly short time span and then binged the films in one evening. You know I am NOT normal about this because I screamed when Shawn had the glass fish in his office

Psych 2: Lassie Come Home (2020) - the totally legal website I watched this on kept recommending me Beethoven and Hachiko. Also seeing how they incorporated Timothy Omundson's stroke in universe and how he is recovering nearly made me cry. Also seeing the credits say James Roday Rodriguez for the first time also nearly made me cry

Psych 3: This is Gus (2021) - That ending is so chaotic and I hope they make a fourth film. "Previous Holiday" by Curt Smith is a banger

[dear-indies]

hi! i hope you dont mind the ask! im looking to set up a period fc and just looking to get some fc help! i want the group to be diverse as possible and was hoping you could help with some fc suggestions?

Kathy Bates (1948) - American Horror Story as Madame LaLaurie.

Richard Ridings (1958) - Dickinson.

Michelle Yeoh (1962) Chinese Malaysian - The School for Good and Evil.

Zahn McClarnon (1966) Hunkpapa Lakota, Sihasapa Lakota, White - History of the World, Part II.

Sophie Okonedo (1968) Nigerian / Ashkenazi Jewish - The Wheel of Time, The Hollow Crown.

Adrian Lester (1968) Afro Jamaican - Mary Queen of Scots.

Yuliya Aug (1970) - Ekaterina.

Warwick Davis (1970) - Willow - has spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita.

Danny Sapani (1970) Ghanaian - in Harlots.

Nick Frost (972) - The Nevers & Into the Badlands.

Matt Berry (1974) - Year of the Rabbit.

Caroline Chikezie (1974) Igbo Nigerian - The Shannara Chronicles.

Ashlie Atkinson (1977) - is queer - The Gilded Age.

Karthi (1977) Tamil Indian - Ponniyin Selvan.

Oscar Isaac (1979) Cuban-Guatemalan-Spanish - In Secret.

Nonso Anozie (1979) Igbo Nigerian - Cinderella.

Adeel Akhtar (1980) Pakistani / Indo Kenyan - Enola Holmes.

Chrissy Metz (1980) - American Horror Story as Ima ‘Barbara’ Wiggles.

Angel Coulby (1980) Afro Guyanese / White - Merlin.

Mahesh Jadu (1982) Indo Mauritian - The Witcher.

Ella Smith (1983) - The Nevers.

Gugu Mbatha-Raw (1983) Zulu South African / White - Belle.

Joel Fry (1984) Afro Jamaican and White - Drunk History UK.

Freida Pinto (1984) Konkani Indian - Mr. Malcolm's List.

Sterling Sulieman (1984) African-American - Still Star-Crossed.

Zawe Ashton (1984) Ugandan / White - Mr. Malcolm's List - has spoken up for Palestine!

Sonoya Mizuno (1986) Japanese / Spanish-Argentinian, White - House of The Dragon.

Jodie Turner-Smith (1986) Afro Jamaican - Anne Boleyn.

Deepika Padukone (1986) Indian - Bajirao Mastani.

Lashana Lynch (1987) Afro Jamaican - Still Star-Crossed.

Susan Wokoma (1987) Nigerian - Enola Holmes - has spoken up for Palestine!

Pippa Bennett-Warner (1988) Jamaican and Kittitian - Harlots.

Stefanie Reinsperger (1988) - Maria Theresa.

Aiysha Hart (1988) Saudi / White - Atlantis - has spoken up for Palestine!

Gratiela Brancusi (1989) Romani and White - 1883 - has spoken up for Palestine!

Dalmar Abuzeid (1990) Sudanese - Anne with An E.

Sophia Nomvete (1990) Iranian and Black - Rings of Power.

Himesh Patel (1990) Indian - The Aeronauts and The Luminaries.

Lolly Adefope (1990) Nigerian - in Ghosts - has spoken up for Palestine!

Paapa Essiedu (1990) Ghanaian - Anne Boleyn - has spoken up for Palestine!

Jacob Anderson (1990) Black Caribbean and White - Interview with the Vampire.

Ebonee Noel (1990) Afro Guyanese - Still Star-Crossed.

Dianne Doan (1990) Chinese - Warrior.

Katie Findlay (1990) Chinese, Portuguese-Macanese, White - Walker: Independence - is queer (they/them) I'm unsure if they're referring to gender and/or sexuality as queer but I'm under the assumption it's both! - has spoken up for Palestine!

Liu Yuning (1990) Chinese - A Journey to Love.

Dev Patel (1990) Gujarati Indian - The Personal History of David Copperfield.

Sope Dirisu (1991) Nigerian - Mr. Malcolm's List.

Medalion Rahimi (1991) Iranian, Mizrahi Jewish - Still Star-Crossed.

Ashley Park (1991) Korean - Mr. Malcolm's List.

Ronke Adekoluejo (1991) Nigerian - Chevalier.

Kiran Sonia Sawar (1991) Pakistani - The Nevers.

Denée Benton (1991) African-American - The Gilded Age - has spoken up for Palestine!

Emma D’Arcy Actor (1992) - is non-binary (they/them) - House of Dragons - has spoken up for Palestine!

Anna Shaffer (1992) Black and White / Jewish - The Witcher.

Devon Terrell (1992) African-American / Anglo-Indian - Cursed.

Crystal Clarke (1993/1994) Trinidadian and Guyanese - Sanditon.

Kelvin Harrison Jr. (1994) African-American - Chevalier.

David Licauco (1994) Filipino - Maria Clara at Ibarra.

Julie Anne San Jose (1994) Filipino - Maria Clara at Ibarra.

Kit Young (1994) Ugandan / White - Shadow and Bone.

Lola Petticrew (1995) - is non-binary (they/them) - Anne Boleyn.

Jack Wolfe (1995) - is queer - Shadow and Bone - has spoken up for Palestine!

Maddison Jaizani (1995) Iranian / White - Versailles.

Alisha Boe (1997) Somali / White - The Buccaneers - has spoken up for Palestine!

Madeleine Madden (1997) Eastern Arrernte, Arrernte, Kalkadoon, White / Gadigal and Bundjalung - The Wheel of Time.

Chen Muchi (1997) Chinese - The Starry Love.

Archie Renaux (1997) Indian and White - Shadow and Bone.

Sophie Wilde (1998) Ivorian / White - Tom Jones.

Josie Totah (2001) Palestinian / Lebanese and White - is a trans woman - is a trans woman - The Buccaneers.

Aaron Cobham (?) Black British - The Spanish Princess.

Stephanie Levi-John (?) Black - The Spanish Princess.

Akil Largie (?) Black - Sense and Sensibility.

Bayo Gbadamosi (?) Black British - The Great.

Thalissa Teixeira (?) Afro Brazilian - Anne Boleyn.

Matthew Broome (?) Black - The Buccaneers.

Colette Dalal Tchantcho (?) Cameroonian / Sunni Kuwaiti - Dangerous Liaisons.

Scott Turner Schofield (?) - is a trans man - The Conductor.

Gladly! I'd also suggest checking out @periodfcnetwork's amazing directory and page, maybe they can help find more disabled, fat and/or trans suggestions not listed because I sadly couldn't find many!

[ulkaralakbarova]

A look behind the scenes at Bernie Madoff’s massive Ponzi scheme, how it was perpetrated on the public and the trail of destruction it left in its wake, both for the victims and Madoff’s family. Credits: TheMovieDb. Film Cast: Bernie Madoff: Robert De Niro Ruth Madoff: Michelle Pfeiffer Frank Dipascali: Hank Azaria Stephanie Madoff: Kristen Connolly Catherine Hooper: Lily Rabe Mark Madoff: Alessandro Nivola Eleanor Squillari: Kathrine Narducci Andrew Madoff: Nathan Darrow Martin London: Steve Coulter Dan Horwitz: Michael A. Goorjian Ostrow: Geoffrey Cantor Michael Schwartz: Jason Babinsky Waitress: Marta Milans Agent Ted Cacioppi: Kelly AuCoin SEC Investigator: Amanda Warren Peter Madoff: Michael Kostroff Reporter: Portland Helmich Upscale Gala Guest: Doris McCarthy David Sheehan: Hamilton Clancy News Reporter: Tommy Bayiokos Reed: Gary Wilmes Club Codette: Cece King Trader: Kelly Aaron Party Guest: Amelia Brain Pinks: Marion McCorry Nicole De Bello: Sophie von Haselberg Driver: Karen Goeller Emily Madoff: Sydney Gayle Photographer / Paparazzi: Vincent Chan Caterer: Adam Butterfield Mike: Razor Rizzotti FBI Agent Kane Partner: Derrick Simmons Visitor: James Brickhouse Kenneth Langone: Ray Iannicelli Florida Fisherman: Guy Sparks Carl Shapiro: Ben Hammer Pool Kid: Ethan Coskay Picard Reporter: Victor Joel Ortiz Federal Agent: Chris LaPanta Daughter: Nicole Scimeca Young Mom: Anthoula Katsimatides Irving Picard: David Little Pierre: Jean Brassard Robert Jaffe: Mark Axelowitz Audrey: Reagan Grella Girl in Pool: Giulia Cicciari Party Guest: Wayne J. Miller Tom FitzMaurice: Neil Brooks Cunningham Palm Beach Party Guest: Lori Burch Bartender: Christine J. Carlson Inmate Gonzales: Sammy Peralta 17th floor Office worker: Ralph Bracco Young Daniel: Eli Golden Ike Sorkin: Mark LaMura Pool Party Guest (uncredited): Robert Levey II BLM Employee: Geoffrey Dawe Film Crew: Producer: Joseph E. Iberti Screenplay: Sam Levinson Executive Producer: Barry Levinson Screenplay: Samuel Baum Screenplay: John Burnham Schwartz Book: Diana Henriques Co-Producer: Amy Herman Original Music Composer: Evgueni Galperine Casting: Ellen Chenoweth Director of Photography: Eigil Bryld Editor: Ron Patane Costume Design: Rita Ryack Art Direction: Ryan Palmer Executive Producer: Robert De Niro Executive Producer: Jane Rosenthal Set Decoration: Heather Loeffler Executive Producer: Berry Welsh Co-Executive Producer: Jason Sosnoff Original Music Composer: Sacha Galperine Production Design: Laurence Bennett Sound Re-Recording Mixer: Skip Lievsay Movie Reviews:

[mielamiela]

*thug tears

thank you, joel.

[imperial-waterboy]

[neontiger1988]

It's a good day to be a Tar Heel!!

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Survivor Blues

Part One : Fight or Flight 

A/N: I am equally excited and terrified to finally be sharing this story, but here goes nothing! This has been in the works for close to a whole ass year now, and it all started when @something-tofightfor sent me a link to the cutscenes of TLOU I & II, casually suggesting I “get to know Joel Miller”, which lead to me having the strongest reaction to a fictional character that I have had in AGES, having a little emotional breakdown about it, and then immediately diving into a google doc to do something with all of my emotions. This is the result. I want to warn you that it does stick to canon timelines as well as themes, so the same darkness and danger that was present throughout the games is still (mostly) in tact here. It’s not a straight up angst pile, but you’re certainly going to have to buckle up if you choose to get on this ride. You’ve been warned. (please enjoy!!) 

Warnings: language, violence, death, apocalyptic themes, mother effing mushroom headed freaks, mentions of illnesses, brief mention of sexual assault - no description whatsoever (please feel free to ask me before  reading if you are unsure)

Word Count : 5,145 

Summary: Twenty-four years after the cordyceps outbreak ravaged the world, you find yourself wondering what could possibly be left for you that was worth fighting for. Lost, alone and having seen better days, you just want to find a place to rest. You end up finding more than you bargained for - or more accurately, more than you bargained for ends up finding you. 

SPRING 

April - 2037

You’d been making your way through the trees, boot soles landing one in front of the other over mostly melted snow and muddy terrain when you felt it - the eerie tingle that started near the base of your skull and traveled down your spine, telling you that something was wrong. The hair stood up on the back of your neck and you froze, eyes  widening to try to locate what had triggered your innate sixth sense. Though sometimes the foreboding came well before the danger was visible leaving you to warily wonder what to be on the lookout for, this was not one of those times. 

As you carefully scanned the landscape ahead of you, you saw them. Stalkers, judging by the way that they were moving and the low croaking sounds you could hear them making, two of them. 

Crouching behind a boulder before they spotted you, you swore to yourself. It had been a long time since you’d dealt with any infected at this phase, most of the ones you’d dispatched in the past few years either well beyond this stage of the cordyceps infection or else still freshly turned. These still had their sight, could employ strategic attacks, and were physically strong, and you were not looking forward to a confrontation with them. But they were wandering through a clearing roughly fifty yards away and directly in your path, blocking you from where you hid and the abandoned house you were hoping to find supplies in, so you were faced with an ultimatum: turn away and hope that your retreat would go unnoticed - and that you would soon find another place to seek shelter and much needed supplies - or stand your ground and take them out. 

Fight or flight. 

Those were the choices that almost everything in the world came down to anymore. Every decision you made was weighed on that scale, calculated by measuring risks against benefits. You had taken both routes at different times, depending on what the situation called for - fight when you had to or when it was one you could win, flight when running was the safer option. There was no such thing as dignity or pride when it came to these matters, only survival and protection, and you had fully adapted to that system years ago.

But now? You were tired. Bone tired, mentally exhausted, and neither seemed like the better option. It had been days since you’d eaten anything more substantial than dried berries and half a strip of squirrel jerky, weeks since you’d slept somewhere with a wall at your back or a roof over your head. You were desperate for a break, absolutely starving for just a spec of relief, and the thought of either engaging rogue stalkers in hand to hand combat or else rolling the dice and running away - possibly directly into another threat - made you want to crumble to dust or dissolve into tears. Before you could stuff your sleep deprived emotional response and make an intelligent choice, you were in motion, right hand grabbing for the pistol tucked into your jeans and whipping it out as you charged from behind the rock and directly towards the two creatures you’d spotted.   

Shit. 

You ruined it, the deep silence of the slowly thawing wilderness you were traveling through. With two quick pulls of your pointer finger, you had shattered the stillness that twenty years of societal decay and natural reclamation had brought to the neighborhood-turned forest you’d stumbled upon. Two deafening cracks sent a spray of blackbirds into the air from the branches they’d just begun to nest in, and then a pair of solid thuds hit the ground immediately after. Holding your breath, you waited for the world to swallow up the echo and go back to the quiet you’d interrupted, hoping the sound hadn’t carried down into the valley that you’d been skirting, or to any other infected that might be in the area. 

Gun still extended out in front of you, it shook in your hand. Why the fuck did I do that? You really shouldn’t have fired your gun. It wasn’t smart to make that much noise in unknown territory. Especially not when you were alone, and definitely not when you only had three bullets left. Why did I fucking do that? Adrenaline pulsed behind your eyeballs, your heart pounding in your chest as you failed to answer the question and strained to listen for the silence that would tell you that your mistake hadn’t been a costly one. 

Above the whoosh of blood in your ears though, instead of the thick quiet you’d hoped for, you heard a string of clicks and groans coming from just beyond where the two stalkers had been. Gritting your teeth, you watched as the hunched form of a clicker, its face grotesquely split in two by the growth eating through its skull, stepped out from behind a rusted out and overgrown car, another line of patterned sounds leaving it’s mouth as it searched for you. You blinked and willed your breathing to slow or at least to fall back into an even rhythm while you reassessed the situation and how best to move forward. You knew that if you stayed stock still the thing wouldn’t be able to find you and you’d be able to buy a few more seconds of time to make a plan. 

But it seemed that you were not done paying for lapse in good sense as yet another stalker ambled jerkily out from behind a dilapidated shed that you hadn’t seen at first. It's one bulging eye swiveled around and locked on to you almost instantly, and playing statue was suddenly no longer an option. Releasing a screech, the thing suddenly launched itself in your direction, leading its blind counterpart by sound.  

Oh, fuck. 

Gripping your gun with both hands to steady your aim, you waited until you had a clear shot on the faster of the two - the stalker - and took it as soon as it was clear. Just like the others, it went down hard and fast leaving only the clicker, but the echo of your weapon told the snarling thing exactly where you were. Having just fired your last bullet, you were down to the hunting knife tucked into your boot and any rocks or branches you could find to use in your defense. No matter what you’d have to get within reach of the creature to kill it, and that meant that it would be able to reach you, too. You knew that it was stronger than you were in that moment, that its crude drives could power its body far more forcibly and effectively than your depleted muscles could. Making a quick judgment call, you decided that you would have better luck trying to get past it unscathed. 

Without pausing to stow your pistol, you ran, gun still in hand, sprinting towards the house and trying to give the clicker in your way as wide a berth as you could. You knew that it would be on your heels as soon as it could find you again - a snapping twig or sliding gravel underfoot would give your position away eventually - and after a few strides it did. 

Damnit. 

You could hear the thing gnashing its teeth behind you as you leaped over one of the dead stalkers, and you did your best to keep your pace even as your body begged for you to stop. Every desperate gasp tore at your throat, the cold air searing your lungs as the sound of your own frenzied breathing filled your ears. Keep… Eyes on the ground a few feet ahead of you, you extended one leg to jump over a fallen tree trunk. Ignoring the splinter of pain that shot through your ankle and shin as you landed, you ran through it, as hard as you could. Keep moving. You sucked in another sharp gulp of chilled air, panting as your aching chest emptied, puffs of vapor bursting from your lips. Thighs burning with the caustic buildup of lactic acid, you let out a grunt and forced them to turn over again and again, denying your body’s demands for you to stop, to rest. 

I can’t. The thing behind you wasn’t stopping. The vacant shell of a person that was chasing you at breakneck speed wasn’t resting. Can’t stop. You knew what would happen if you did. If I stop I’ll die. Despite knowing that, you couldn’t keep the next question from cropping up. 

Would that be so bad? 

It was the worst possible time for you to have an existential crisis, but it happened nonetheless. Frost bitten leaves and blades of grass crunched under the treads of your boots as your oxygen deprived brain tried to offer you an out. You could stop. You could choose to let yourself get caught. Ducking under a low hanging branch without slowing down, you considered what it would mean to make that choice, to let twenty years of inevitably to finally catch up with you - to stop fighting and running altogether. 

For a long time it hadn’t been an option, stopping. Not while you had Kyle and Laura and the others to look out for, or Gavin to get back to- not when you still had a family. But you were alone now, and you had been for months. Alone, with no one counting on you or waiting for you or hoping you were safe. No one who needed you, no one who wanted you or loved you, no one to wrap your arms around or to wrap theirs around you. You were alone, and you were so tired. 

Would it be so bad? For it to be over? 

You weren’t even sure what scared you anymore, what drove you. When you were younger you wanted to be fearless, like the characters in your favorite books and movies. They were unafraid of tackling any obstacle, ready to run headlong into the fray and fight for what they believed in, to protect who and what they cared about. As a kid you’d always equated fearlessness with bravery. But now you knew that they weren’t the same. Bravery required something to fear. Being fearless, you’d realized, just meant that you had nothing at all. Nothing to protect or hope for, nothing to lose or have taken from you.  

Death had stopped scaring you years ago. Over the past two and a half decades you’d been forced into close quarters with it, becoming intimately acquainted with the inevitable. You’d fought with all you had to stay alive for the people you loved, but that became harder with each one that you lost. Your parents and your siblings, friends and coworkers and everyone you knew before the outbreak, then Ty, Ryan and Brayden, Gavin, Laura. By the time it was just you and Kyle, your only fear was turning. Not because you worried about what it was like to let the cordyceps infection take root in your brain. You’d seen it happen enough times to know that it was just like a switch being flipped - one minute the person was still in there, struggling against the takeover, and the next they were gone, all traces of who they were erased entirely. Compared to the years of degradation you’d watched your grandfather go through in his battle against Alzhiemer’s, it didn’t seem nearly as heartbreaking or traumatizing for the person being turned. The only reason you found that prospect terrifying was because you didn’t want anyone you cared about to be saddled with the moral burden of putting you down. But now you were free from  that fear, too, because there was no one left that you cared about, and no one left who cared about you. No one left to suffer your loss. 

Before you could convince yourself to surrender, the toe of your boot caught on a rock that was still snow covered and hidden, and you tumbled, rolling and skidding over the ground to land on your side. The thing chasing after you took advantage of your situation and closed in on you, and in those final seconds before its jaws snapped and caught your arm or shoulder or any other part of your body between them, your brain released one final reserve of energy and self-preservation. With a yell, you rolled to your back and reached for the handle of your blade, unsheathing it from your boot as you planted that same foot in the creature’s hip joint. Planting your other foot in the opposite hip, you used your legs as a frame to control the distance between you and your demise. When you were ready, you bent your knees to your chest, bringing the attacking clicker closer to you as you thrust your blade up under its chin, burying it to the hilt. 

The second your knife pierced the decayed bone and cut through the main stem of fungal growth that had replaced the former occupant’s brain, it became a limp sack of dead weight hovering over you. With a grunt, you kicked your legs straight again and pulled back on the handle of your blade, the defeated clicker slumping off of you as you turned your face to avoid the ooze of dark blood that leaked from its fatal wound. Panting, your chest caving in and expanding so rapidly you felt yourself going dizzy, you wanted to just lay there in the muddy snow. Your fingers were still curled around the leather straps wound around the knife’s grip, throbbing with how tightly you held it, and your limbs vibrated with overuse. 

But that last ditch effort of your survival instincts wasn’t done yet, that same thing that had taken over and handled the clicker screaming at you to get up, to get inside the house. It's right there, just a few more steps away. There might be something useful in there - food even, or fresh clothing. You haven’t seen anyone in weeks, that house might be untouched. It could be a gold mine. You could lay down in a bed. Just get up and get yourself inside. 

It wasn’t until you’d dragged yourself up to the second floor, sobbing through your soreness and fatigue, that you realized it was Gavin’s voice in your head, bargaining with you to keep going when all you wanted to do was quit, not your own. Limping and shuffling through the first of three doors at the top of the stairs, you shouldered the door open as tears streamed from your eyes. Of course it was him that would remind you to fight. Of course it was him that would urge you to keep fighting, even the memory of him was so strong that he wouldn’t let you quit. You fell into a shaking, sniffling heap on the dust covered bed, uncaring of the filth that coated your skin and the blankets you laid on. Reaching under your shirt, the fingers that had been clutching your knife closed around the chain that hung around your neck, the blade tucked back into your boot. You squeezed until you felt two smooth, round metallic bands pressing into your palm, and then you let go - of the rings, of your tears, of your consciousness - and let sleep fall fast and heavy over you. 

In your dreams, he came to you. Not just his voice, not just his insistence that you keep finding reasons to fight, things to live for, but him. Your Gavin. In your dreams, the world hadn’t ended twenty some odd years ago, and he wasn’t sick or weak. When you slept, you saw him, felt him the way you most loved to remember him - smiling and warm, grabbing your hand to twirl you through the kitchen before the restaurant opened or wrapping both arms around you to pull you down into the bed with him. In this particular visitation, he was sitting with his back to the trunk of the big maple tree that overlooked his grandfather’s farm, your spine pressed to his chest as the two of you watched the summer breeze sweep over the fields before it tickled your skin. You felt his lips at your ear as he whispered his love for you, felt the tips of his fingers flex against your body where he held you. “Don’t want to let you go,” he murmured, nuzzling into your hair. “Don’t want to say goodbye.”  

You turned to tell him that he didn’t have to, but instead of his face all you saw was the tree bark. Swiveling back around, you saw him standing in front of you instead. Hmm? How did he- 

Before you could piece together that this was a dream and that the laws of physics didn’t matter, Gavin knocked the toe of his sneaker against your foot, your heel rolling in the grass. “C’mon, time to get up.” 

“Uh-uh, Gav,” you protested, reaching your hands out to try to grasp his and urge him back down to the soft grass with you. “I want to stay here with you.” 

He gave you a sad smile and shook his head, toe knocking against your foot again. “You can’t, sugar. You can’t stay with me, you have to get up now.” 

Another nudge to your foot jogged you from the dream and dropped you back into your body, eyes flying open to see the muzzle of a rifle as it poked at your boot. Oh, shit. Adrenaline spiking again, you sucked in a breath as your heart pounded against your ribs. Gun. That’s a gun. Drawing your knees to your chest you sat straight with your back against the headboard and held your hands up, empty palms facing away from yourself, a slight shake in your fingers. Shit, what do I- Wincing, you swallowed the panic that threatened to rise and forced reason into your thoughts, convincing yourself that since you hadn’t been shot on sight, maybe the situation was worth trying to talk your way out of. 

Fight or flight… or surrender. 

You exhaled slowly and lifted your gaze to take in the figure of a broad shouldered man in a canvas coat, the weapon gripped in his gloved hands trained loosely on you though his trigger finger was relaxed, resting on the guard. His face was partly obscured by his gun, but you took in a pair of dark umber eyes weighing you with each blink, the bags beneath them sagging into his cheeks which disappeared under a graying beard. From the looks of him, he’d only been out on the road a day or two, jeans worn but clean, a scarf bundled around his neck and a bag strapped to his back that seemed full, as though he had packed it recently. He didn’t look hungry or ragged like you knew you must appear to him, but you didn’t know if that had any significance or if he’d just been lucky and happened upon a cache of food in another nearby house. Maybe he’s like me…just passing through, just looking for- 

“You’re gonna need to start talking.” His gruff voice broke the silence to make you realize that it wasn’t silent, a second pair of footsteps ascending the creaking staircase. Shit, there’s more of them. 

Nodding, you decided that the best course of action was to earn his trust, show him that you weren’t looking for confrontation. “There’s a knife in my boot and a gun in my bag.” You swallowed, eyes darting down to the pack that was on the floor next to the cot you occupied. “There’s no ammo in it, you can check.” 

“Which boot’s got the knife?” He asked, chin jutting out as the other pair of steps grew closer. 

“Right,” you answered quickly, licking your dry lips and extending your right leg out so that he could disarm you without having to come any closer. Using one hand, he found the handle of your hunting blade and carefully drew it from the sheath you had tucked between your shoe and your sock, dropping it behind him to clatter noisily on the floor. 

“You bit anywhere?” He stepped back, again putting space between him and you but blocking your path to the door. “Saw those infected out there. Any of ‘em get you?”

“No.” You crossed your arms over your chest. You knew he had to ask for his own safety. If you had been bitten, there might only be a few hours before you started devolving into a soulless vessel for the infection, before you turned and became a monster yourself. 

“You lyin’?” He pushed, though not any more aggressively than you would have if the situation was reversed. 

You swallowed, recalling a handful of times when you had come upon strangers that you weren’t expecting to find and how you’d actually been more aggressive than this man was when you’d questioned people. “No,” you answered again. Eyes moving to where he’d thrown your knife, you went on. “I would have taken care of things if I’d gotten bit.” A flash of understanding in his eyes told you that he got your meaning. You may have been out of ammunition for your gun, but if that clicker you’d dealt with had managed to sink its teeth into your flesh you would have followed the bite with your blade and ended things before the infection could take hold. “Look, I’m not… I just-” 

You stopped speaking as you heard the second person, another man, speak from the hallway. “Joel? What’s goin’ on in there?” He hurried into the room then. “I heard-” The second man’s eyes landed directly on you, widening as he took in the sight of the first man stooping to pull a small revolver from your backpack. “Well, shit.” You watched him tighten his grip on his own weapon even though he kept it lowered. “Who do we got here?”

“I dunno Tommy,” the first man, Joel, answered as he stood, returning his eyes to yours and tilting his head to one side so that the longer strands of his salty grayish hair flopped over his forehead. “We didn’t get that far.” 

“And we don’t have to go any farther.” You held your hands up in front of you again and proceeded carefully. “I was just… I needed to rest. I’m not looking for trouble or anything. I’m sorry if this is your place. I just… I’ll go. And you won’t see me again.” 

The two men looked at one another, silently conversing with their eyes and facial expressions, and you realized that they looked alike. The younger of the two had longer hair that was slightly lighter in color and struck through with fewer grays than the older one, but their bone structure was similar and their eyes were the same shade of brown. Brothers, some part of your subconscious told you, or cousins. Definitely family. You weren’t sure how or if you could use that information to get them to let you go, but you filed it nonetheless. You focused on listening for any signs of others but heard none, though you did catch a sound that you thought might have been the whinny of a horse. 

Before you could try to piece anything together, the younger man, Tommy, lowered his weapon to his side, Joel doing the same but kept his eyes trained on you. “You don’t have to high tail it now,” Tommy said, giving you a slight grin. “And forgive me for saying this ma’am but you look like fifty miles of bad road and if we let you go without offerin’ an alternative I’m fairly sure we’d be finding your corpse up here next time we come through, and that’s not what any of us want.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him and weighed the man’s words. You knew you looked like shit, and you knew that the two strange men who had stumbled upon you could probably tell that you hadn’t had a decent meal or a full night’s rest in far too long just by looking at you, so you knew that you couldn’t bluff and say that you weren’t in need of whatever they might be offering. But you’d also heard first hand about groups of men who sought out women just to have their way with them - you’d met Ty after she had escaped from one of those settlements, the woman never fully recovering from her time spent there. If that was what they were offering you, you’d take your chances with the infected. “Why should I trust you? I don’t know you. I really just… I needed a place to crash and-” 

“You need food.” Joel stated, head tilted to one side. “You’re a few days out from starving, I can see it on your face.” That shut you up, because you knew that he was right. “We have a place not far from here. It’s safe. There’s people, we have plenty of room.” He finally stowed his rifle back over his shoulder, completely disarming himself and locking eyes with you. “It's not just men, either. There’s women, kids.” He shook his head. “Long as you don’t try anything stupid, we’re not gonna hurt you.” 

You thought again about what they were offering. If they had wanted anything from you they had already had plenty of time to take it. If they’d wanted you dead you would be. “I…” You licked at your chapped lips and tried to come up with a reason not to accept their offer. But after the brush with mortality you’d just suffered and the heaviness of being alone at the end of the world, you simply couldn’t. “Alright,” you nodded. “Just-” 

“Alright then,” Tommy moved his head up and down one time and turned for the door as Joel stooped down to pick up the knife he’d taken from you along with your empty gun. He picked up your bag as well, putting both items inside and keeping a firm grip on it. You stood from the molded mattress and extended a hand out to take your things back from the man, but he clicked his tongue and shook his head. 

“I’m gonna hold onto these ‘til we get where we’re goin’. You’ll get ‘em back once everything’s sorted, yeah?” 

You didn’t see what choice you had so you sighed. “If you say so.” He gave you a look that said that he did in fact say so, and you nodded, realizing that he was waiting for you to follow the other man out of the room and down the stairs. “Alright.”  

His hefty footfalls followed your lighter ones as you descended the rotting steps that you’d somehow made it up without injuring yourself on, and then you were back outside, the late afternoon light already starting to fade. “Is it far?” You asked, turning to the man behind you. 

“Not too far,” he answered. “An hour maybe. We were out on a standard perimeter run when we heard gunshots up here and found you.” 

You felt yourself deflate a little at the thought of walking for an hour, especially when you realized that what you thought was the sound of a horse had actually been two horses - one for each of the men. Tommy was already sitting in his saddle when the two of you stepped up to where the second horse, a chestnut colored one with a long black mane, stood. “What’s the plan, Joel?” He looked down at you and then up at the other man as he too stepped into his stirrup and climbed atop his horse. 

“She can ride with me.” The man answered as he leaned forward, running his large palm over the horse’s shoulder before patting the animal twice. It wasn’t a suggestion so much as it was a decision, his tone firm and his eyes fixed securely on you as he sat back in his saddle. He wants me in front of him where he can see me. Smart. It was that more than anything that made you relax enough to start to trust him - he didn’t underestimate you, which meant that he wasn’t an idiot. 

The other man nodded once, clicking his tongue in his cheek. “Alright then.” Gripping the reins in his hands he pulled them, his horse turning so that the animal was facing the direction of what must have been a road at one point, the asphalt reduced to gravel by the tree roots that had broken through to reclaim it. “I’ll take lead since you got,” he waited until you had climbed up and taken your place in front of Joel the man’s large gloved hand closing securely around yours to help hoist you up and, then raised one eyebrow so that it disappeared under the hair that hung over his forehead. “Extra cargo.” 

You stiffened at that, narrowed eyes trained on the younger man as he turned. Cargo? I’m not… I’m a person. You remembered Ty telling you that the men who had kept her and the other women captive had often referred to them as cargo. People aren’t cargo. I - 

“He doesn’t mean it like that.” Joel’s voice came from behind you as though he could sense your unease at Tommy’s words. “He just meant since there’s two of us he’ll take point so I can keep an eye on you.” He reached around you to grab the reins, his thick arms coming around your body. “We done a lot of bad shit to survive, Tommy’n me.” You didn’t turn around, but you felt the movement as the man shook his head. “But we would never do what you’re thinkin’. I promise.” You felt yourself release some of the tension in your muscles and then he was speaking again. “You don’t have to tell me your name if you don’t want to, but like I said. We’re not gonna hurt you. What we’ve got? The place we’re taking you? It’s safe, and all we’re tryin’ to do is help.” 

You thought for a few seconds about giving him a fake name but decided that there was no point in that. Giving him your real one, you thanked him for everything that he had said and all that the two men were offering, and though Tommy had been quicker to fall into a smile in front of you, you heard the barest hint that there was one on Joel’s face as he let out a stunted laugh. “Thank me once we’re in Jackson and you’ve met Maria.” 

With that he flicked the reins and the horse began to trot off in the direction Tommy had gone, leaving you to wonder exactly what was in store for you when you arrived.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories, please feel free to let me know! You can also fill out the form on my masterlist! 

Tags: @something-tofightfor  @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @amb11 @mindidjarin @jk7789 @tentacruels 

[piratesfromspace]

Masterlist

👄 : mature theme (but nothing explicit)

🔥 : smut

🔪 : violence

Please review the detailed warnings at the beginning of each post

THE LAST OF US

Joel Miller/Reader

She’s back (angst, drabble)

The Escape 🔥🔪 (hurt/comfort, smut)

COD: MW2

RAIN UNIVERSE - Ghost/Reader & Reader/all 

Series with an autistic!Reader

I - Rain or Shine 🔥(smut, hurt/comfort)

II - Hard Rain 🔥(pining, angst, light smut, w/ Soap)

III - What happens in Siberia 🔥🔪(pure smut, w/ Soap, Price, Gaz)

IV - Plaything 🔪(angst, capture/rescue)

V - After the rain 👄 (angst, hurt/comfort)

ONE-SHOTS with various CoD Men

Just Like Old Times Part 1 👄 (Price/Reader & poly141, Winter fluff, praise kink)

Just Like Old Times Part 2 🔥(Price/Reader & poly141, smut, fivesome)

Night Blue 🔪👄 (Price/Reader, rescue mission)

Three - drabble 🔥(Soap/Ghost/Reader, pure filth, threesome)

Medieval AU!Price 🔥(Price/Reader, drabble)

Vampire!Price 🔥(Price/Reader, period sex, drabble)

Taken 🔪(König/Reader, angst, extreme violence)

TOP GUN MAVERICK

Squadron/Reader

Imagine - Type of lovers 🔥

Imagine - Dirty talk 🔥

Phoenix x Reader 🔥🔥 (pure smut, dom/sub vibes)

Rooster x Reader 🔥 (smut, menstrual sex, hurt/comfort)

Squadron x Reader 🔥 (smut, group sex, angst)

Bob x Reader 🔥 (emotional hurt/comfort, friends-to-lovers, smut)

Imagine - Comfort 🔥 (hurt/comfort)

Hangman x Reader 🔥 (body insecurities & comfort)

Hangman x Reader 👄(how to cure a hangover)

Other pairings

Hangman x Rooster x Phoenix 🔥 (crack fic, threesome)

RINGS OF POWER

Arondir/Reader

A New Path 🔥 (soft smut, PWP, human!reader)

Headcanons 🔥

Wounded 🔥 (hurt/comfort, smut)

Small 🔥 (smut, size kink)

THE BOYS

Billy Butcher/Reader

Poison 🔥🔪(smut, angst)

Frenchie/Reader

Forget 🔥(smut, sub!Frenchie)

TRIPLE FRONTIER

The boys/Reader

Imagine - Going to Disneyland 👄 (fluff)

Tequila shots 👄 (drabble, poly vibes)

ATLAS 🔥 🔪 🔪 (poly vibes, angst, smut)

Breakfast - Atlas Universe 🔥🔪 (poly vibes, angst & fluff & smut)

Old Romance - Atlas Universe 🔥 (poly vibes, period sex, fluff & smut)

THE PUNISHER & DAREDEVIL (MARVEL)

Frank Castle/Reader

Training Day 👄 🔪 (knifeplay)

You again 👄 🔪 (extreme hurt/comfort)

SFW Alphabet 👄 🔪

NSFW alphabet 🔥 🔪 (smut, fluff)

Good Girl 🔥 (smut, brat taming)

After the Rain 🔥 (soft smut, hurt/comfort)

Daredevil/Reader

The Email (fluff, hurt/comfort)

NARCOS

Javier Peña/Reader

Imagine - White Knight 👄🔪 (hurt/comfort)

Imagine - White Knight Part 2 👄🔪 (hurt/comfort)

Horacio Carrillo/Reader

Imagine - Sick (hurt/comfort)

STAR WARS

Kino Loy/Reader (Andor)

Flesh and Dreams 🔥🔪(hurt/little comfort)

Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth/Reader

A Mandalorian, a Marshal, and some complicated feelings: 

part 1 🔥🔪 (hurt/comfort)

part 2 🔪 (hurt/comfort)

part 3 🔪 (extreme angst + hurt/comfort) 

Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth

Caring is hard 👄(angst)

Poe Dameron/Reader

Autistic!Reader blurb (fluff, hurt/comfort)

Anakin Skywalker/Reader

The Mechanic 🔥 (PWP)

Kylo Ren/Reader

La Petite Mort 🔥🔪 (Vampire AU)

ETERNALS (MARVEL)

Druig/Reader

In Your Mind 🔥 (sweet smut)

Druig/Makkari/Reader

Christmas Gift 👄(fluff)

FAST & FURIOUS

Deckard Shaw/Reader

Finance Management 🔥 (smut, sugar daddy vibes)

VARIOUS

Santa Claus/Reader (Violent Night)

Brandy & Gingerbread 🔥 (Christmas fluff and soft smut)

Alfred Pennyworth/Reader

Rain & Berries 🔪🔥 (hurt/comfort)

Pedro Boys/Reader

Imagine: recovering from painful sex 🔥 (comfort, fluff)

James Bond/Reader

When in Venice - James Bond AU 🔥 (w/ Oscar Isaac & Jon Bernthal)

Ransom Drysdale/Reader (Knives Out)

A Spirit of his own 👄🔪 (Halloween fic)

FIC RECS

Part 1

[usports]

Watch highlights here of the UNC Tar Heels men's basketball 71-65 win vs Gonzaga Men's Basketball.

[gilmoregirlsrevival2016]

Season 1 Gilmore Girls References (Breakdown)

Yay! All the season 1 references have been posted. Before I start posting season 2, I wanted to post this little breakdown for your enjoyment :) It starts with some statistics and then below the cut is a list of all the specific references.

Overall amount of references in season 1: 605

Top 10 Most Common References: NSYNC (5), Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory (5), Taylor Hanson (6), Leo Tolstoy (7), Lucky Spencer (7), Marcel Proust (7), PJ Harvey (7), The Bangles (8), The Donna Reed Show (8), William Shakespeare (10)

Which episodes had the most references: #1 is That Damn Donna Reed with 55 references. #2 is Christopher Returns with 44 references 

What characters made the most references (Only including characters/actors who were in the opening credits): Lorelai had the most with 237 references, Rory had second most with 118, and Lane had third most with 48.

First reference of the season: Jack Kerouac referenced by Lorelai 

Final reference of the season: Adolf Eichmann referenced by Michel 

  Movies/TV Shows/Episodes/Characters, Commercials, Cartoons/Cartoon Characters, Plays, Documentaries:

9 1/2 Weeks, Alex Stone, Alfalfa, An Affair To Remember, A Streetcar Named Desire, Attack Of The Fifty Foot Woman, Avon Commercials, Bambi, Beethoven, Boogie Nights, Cabaret, Casablanca, Charlie's Angels, Charlie Brown cartoons, Christine, Cinderella, Citizen Kane, Daisy Duke, Damien Thorn, Dawson Leery, Donna Stone, Double Indemnity, Double Mint Commercials, Ethel Mertz, Everest, Felix Unger, Fiddler On The Roof, Footloose, Freaky Friday, Fred Mertz, Gaslight, General Hospital, G.I. Jane, Gone With The Wind, Grease, Hamlet, Heathers, Hee Haw, House On Haunted Hill, Ice Castles, I Love Lucy, Iron Chef, Ishtar, Jeff Stone, Joanie Loves Chachi, John Shaft, Lady And The Tramp, Life With Judy Garland: Me And My Shadows, Love Story, Lucky Spencer, Lucy Raises Chickens, Lucy Ricardo, Lucy Van Pelt, Macbeth,  Magnolia, Mary Stone, Mask, Midnight Express, Misery, Norman Bates, Officer Krupke, Oompa Loompas, Old Yeller, Oscar Madison, Out Of Africa, Patton, Pepe Le Pew, Peyton Place, Pink Ladies, Pinky Tuscadero, Ponyboy, Psycho, Queen Of Outer Space, Rapunzel, Richard III, Ricky Ricardo, Rocky Dennis, Romeo And Juliet, Rosemary's Baby, Sandy Olsson, Saved By The Bell, Saving Private Ryan, Schindler's List, Schroeder, Sesame Street, Seven Brides For Seven Brothers, Sex And The City, Sixteen Candles, Sleeping Beauty, Star Trek, Stanley Kowalski, Stella Kowalski, Stretch Cunningham, The Champ, The Comedy Of Errors, The Crucible, The Donna Reed Show, The Duke's Of Hazzard, The Fly, The Great Santini, The Little Match Girl, The Matrix, The Miracle Worker, The Oprah Winfrey Show, The Outsiders, The Shining, The Sixth Sense, The View, The Waltons, The Way We Were, The Scarecrow, This Old House, V.I.P., Valley Of The Dolls, Vulcans, Wild Kingdom, Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory, Wheel Of Fortune, Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf, Working Girl, Yogi Bear, You're A Good Man Charlie Brown

Bands, Songs, CDs:

98 Degrees, Air Supply, Apple Venus Volume 2, Backstreet Boys, Bee Gees, Black Sabbath, Blue Man Group, Blur, Bon Jovi, Boston, Bush, Duran Duran, Everlong, Foo Fighters, Fugazi, Grandaddy, Hanson, I'm Too Sexy, Joy Division, Jumpin' Jack Flash, Kraftwerk, Like A Virgin, Livin La Vida Loca, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, Man I Feel Like A Woman, Metallica, Money Money, My Ding-A-Ling, NSYNC, On The Good Ship Lollipop, Pink Moon, Queen, Rancid, Sergeant Pepper, Shake Your Bon Bon, Siouxsie And The Banshees, Sister Sledge, Smoke On The Water, Steely Dan, Suppertime, Tambourine Man, The B-52s, The Bangles, The Beatles, The Best Of Blondie, The Cranberries, The Cure, The Offspring, The Sugarplastic, The Wallflowers, The Velvet Underground, Walk Like An Egyptian, XTC, Ya Got Trouble, Young Marble Giants

Books/Book Characters, Comic Books/Comic Book Characters, Comic Strips: 

A Mencken Chrestomathy, A Tale Of Two Cities, Anna Karenina, Belle Watling, Boo Radley, Carrie, David Copperfield, Dick Tracy, Dopey (One of the seven dwarfs) Goofus And Gallant, Great Expectations, Grinch, Hannibal Lecter, Hansel And Gretel, Harry Potter (book as well as character referenced), Huckleberry Finn, Little Dorrit, Madame Bovary, Moby Dick, Mommie Dearest, Moose Mason, Nancy Drew, Out Of Africa, Pinocchio, Swann's Way, The Amityville Horror, The Art Of Fiction, The Bell Jar, The Grapes Of Wrath, The Hunchback Of Notre Dame, The Lost Weekend, The Metamorphosis, The Portable Dorothy Parker, The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath, The Witch Tree Symbol, There's A Certain Slant Of Light, Tuesdays With Morrie, War And Peace, Wonder Woman

Public Figures:

Adolf Eichmann, Alfred Hitchcock, Angelina Jolie, Anna Nicole Smith, Annie Oakley, Antonio Banderas, Arthur Miller, Artie Shaw, Barbara Hutton, Barbara Stanwyck, Barbra Streisand, Beck, Ben Jonson, Benito Mussolini, Billy Bob Thornton, Billy Crudup, Bob Barker, Brad Pitt, Britney Spears, Catherine The Great, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Charles I, Charles Dickens, Charles Manson, Charlie Parker, Charlotte Bronte, Charlton Heston, Charo, Cher, Cheryl Ladd, Chris Penn, Christiane Amanpour, Christopher Marlowe, Chuck Berry, Claudine Longet, Cleopatra, Cokie Roberts, Courtney Love, Dalai Lama, Damon Albarn, Dante Alighieri, David Mamet, Donna Reed, Edith Wharton, Edna O'Brien, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Elizabeth Webber, Elle Macpherson, Elsa Klensch, Elvis, Emeril Lagasse, Emily Dickinson, Emily Post, Eminem, Emma Goldman, Errol Flynn, Fabio, Farrah Fawcett, Fawn Hall, Flo Jo, Francis Bacon, Frank Sinatra, Franz Kafka, Fred MacMurray, Friedrich Nietzsche, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Gene Hackman, Gene Wilder, George Clooney, George Sand, George W. Bush, Harry Houdini, Harvey Fierstein, Henny Youngman, Henry David Thoreau, Henry James, Henry VIII, Herman Melville, Homer, Honore De Balzac, Howard Cosell, Hugh Grant, Hunter Thompson, Jack Kerouac, Jaclyn Smith, James Dean, Jane Austen, Jean-Paul Sartre, Jennifer Lopez, Jessica Tandy, Jim Carey, Jim Morrison, Jimmy Hoffa, Joan Of Arc, Joan Rivers, Jocelyn Wildenstein, Joel Grey, John Cage, John Gardner, John Muir, John Paul II, John Webster, Johnny Cash, Johnny Depp, Joseph Merrick AKA Elephant Man, Judy Blume, Judy Garland, Julian Lennon, Justin Timberlake, Karen Blixen AKA Isak Dinesen, Kate Jackson, Kathy Bates, Kevin Bacon, Kreskin, Lee Harvey Oswald, Leo Tolstoy, Leopold and Loeb, Lewis Carroll, Linda McCartney, Liz Phair, Liza Minnelli, Lou Reed, M Night Shyamalan, Macy Gray, Madonna, Marcel Marceau, Marcel Proust, Margot Kidder, Marie Antoinette, Marie Curie, Marilyn Monroe, Mark Twain, Mark Wahlberg, Marlin Perkins, Martha Stewart, Martha Washington, Martin Luther, Mary Kay Letourneau, Maurice Chevalier, Melissa Rivers, Meryl Streep, Michael Crichton, Michael Douglas, Michelle Pfeiffer, Miguel De Cervantes, Miss Manners, Mozart, Nancy Kerrigan, Nancy Walker, Nick Cave, Nick Drake, Nico, Oliver North, Oprah Winfrey, Oscar Levant, Pat Benatar, Paul McCartney, Peter III Of Russia, Peter Frampton, Philip Glass, PJ Harvey, Prince, Queen Elizabeth I, Regis, Richard Simmons, Rick James, Ricky Martin, Robert Duvall, Robert Redford, Robert Smith, Robin Leach, Rosie O'Donnell, Ru Paul, Ruth Gordon, Samuel Barber, Sarah Duchess Of York, Sean Lennon, Sean Penn, Shania Twain, Shelley Hack, Sigmund Freud, Squeaky Fromme, Stephen King, Steven Tyler, Susan Faludi, Susanna Hoffs, Tanya Roberts, Taylor Hanson, Theodore Kaczynski AKA The Unabomber, The Kennedy Family, Groucho, Harpo, Chico, Zeppo, and Gummo Marx AKA The Marx Brothers, Venus and Serena Williams (The reference was "The Williams Sisters"),Thelonious Monk, Tiger Woods, Tito Puente, Tom Waits, Tony Randall, Tonya Harding, Vaclav Havel, Vanna White, Vivien Leigh, Walt Whitman, William Shakespeare, William Shatner, Yoko Ono, Zsa Zsa Gabor

Misc:

Camelot, Chernobyl Disaster, Cone Of Silence, Hindenburg Disaster, Iran-Contra Affair, Paul Bunyan, The Menendez Murders, Tribbles, Vulcan Death Grip, Whoville, Winchester Mystery House

[bdub86]

Bzhaun Rhoden, Malik Lindo, Renato Sanches

Ray J, Jeremias Amoore, Tyler Lepley

Bryson Tiller, Joel Berry II, Joshua Zirkzee

Roddy Ricch, Tylor Bradshaw, Vincent Forite

YK Osiris, Dominic Calvert-Lewin, Lil Nas X

DaBaby, Tory Lanez, Brandon Williams

Junior Vasquez, Jacob Robinson, Christopher Marrs

Omari Dixon, Deonee Arnez, Iann Dior

Kairo Whitfield, Nick Young, Lil Mosey

Tahith Chong, Deivys Nicola, Mason Greenwood

*Please DO NOT reblog if you are willing to ignore whitewashing, racial slurs, BLACKFACE or post white people and celebrities who have done these things. No, I won’t care how long ago it happened. This post is for, by, and about black people! This post is not meant to be a token splash of color on pages filled with mostly white faces*

Just to be clear: If regularly including ALL KINDS of black people isn’t important to you, this post is not for you. If you can overlook racism towards black people, period, but especially by your nonblack celebrity faves then this post is not for you. If you only objectify (ignore the objectification of) black men then move the fuck on. If your default porn preference is fetishizing interracial race play, Mandingo, sex slave or some other dehumanizing fantasies MOVE THE FUCK ON.

FYI, if this caption bothers you then I’m DEFINITELY talking about you.

This post is about celebrating black men and connecting with others who respect black men and not those who fetishize us and our bodies.