#Midwest Supply

[l3irdl3rain]

falling to my knees in the farm supply store and wailing bc all their bags of pine pellets got wet.

[carmenpeach]

you will not fucking beleive what someone was just giving away for free

[adamsvanrhijn]

cheerfully planning my friday target run

[pkmntrainersquid]

Moving across a region as large as Ziibi is honestly a bit of culture shock at times. Like what do you mean Pokémon & Fleet? Yeah, no, In my hometown we go to the Fleet Pokésupply.

[hylacrucifer]

*

[bijoumikhawal]

Funds for Haiti and Haitian Americans

A Haitian American woman with long Covid and her daughter with cancer have both been struggling to raise funds that would help them during their illnesses. Both of them live in the Midwest, which is where a lot of the most recent fear mongering has been centered.

COJEHA is a Haitian organization that provides financial support for youth, teaches agricultural skills, helps ensure children attend school, and teaches other soft life skills. They're working on building a farm with fish and vegetable crops where teaching occurs, which will also increase local access to fresh food.

P4H Global is the organization that has been working on building the canal connected to the Massacre River, another agricultural project. They have also been working to support education in Haiti, with both teachers and students.

The Haitian Community Center in Springfield, Ohio. Springfield's food bank, community health center, and a local Catholic organization that provides aid are also accepting donations.

Richard Pierrin is a journalist who has had to flee Haiti and is trying to get a visa that will allow him to work, and that doesn't end after 3 months.

Marc Henry and his family have been dealing with food insecurity for months, and are trying to get funds so they can eat, as well as supplies like livestock and fishing equipment so they can sustain themselves even after the fundraiser is done. They're close to their goal.

An elderly couple's home was damaged multiple times over the last few years and they are trying to raise funds to finish construction. They are also very close to their goal.

A fundraiser for children in Jacmel to provide food, water, and clothes.

A fund for several families to secure plane tickets out of the country

OTRAH is an organization that helps trans Haitians and wants to expand their services to combat HIV. They don't have a gofundme, instead donations are discussed over email.

There is also this thread of Haitian gofundmes which updates fairly regularly

This document explaining the leadup to where we are now also names some organizations that could use financial support

[trashshouldnt]

on a noble quest across genres to make something lovely for my partners

[northgazaupdates]

This is Doaa @doaaadas

Originally from north Gaza, Doaa lived with her parents in a comfortable home. When the IOF invaded, they became trapped in their home for days, going hungry and thirsty for much of that time. When they finally escaped, Doaa’s father was killed and Doaa was injured.

Since that day, Doaa’s health has been extremely fragile. She tries to receive what treatment she can, but the lack of availability of care has exacerbated her injury and created a cascade of health problems.

Doaa is currently in surgery and she is in very poor condition. Although we are glad she was able to get this procedure, it is not going to be a cure-all. She will still have serious health problems, and the trauma of the surgery itself will leave her weak and vulnerable to infection and disease.

Doaa has only her mother with her. Her mother is terrified and exhausted, and has no source of income. Please help them afford basic necessities like water, food, and supplies for managing Doaa’s health going forward.

Please donate what you can and share her campaign so it gets more visibility. It has very low funds, and your sharing is very helpful and appreciated.

Thank you❤️

Doaa’s campaign is verified by @mohammedalhabil2000

[absurdthirst]

Fucking Fungus {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, dub con, post apocalyptic world, scavenging, guilt, shame, desire, Joel having a bad attitude, mentions of periods, rough sex, neediness, unprotected sex, cream pie

Comments: Coming across Wymore, NE, you hoped to find some much needed supplies for the coming winter but you find that the fungus has mutated in dangerous and frightening ways. Needing to insure that there are more hosts to infect in a very basic kind of way.

🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉Happy Birthday @storiesofthefandomlovers!!!! I love you and hope you have the best damn day! In thotty tradition, here is a sex pollen to celebrate another year around the sun!🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The world has changed in the past twenty years. None of it for the betterment of humanity. The crunch of the dried leaves grinds under your boots and your head rotates left and then right as you watch, listen. Waiting for any sign of life or more importantly, danger. The weight of your rifle is heavy in your hands, although you hold it down, unassuming but ready to be lifted at a second’s notice. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just hook it over your shoulder.” Ellie snorts, her backpack bouncing slightly on her back from the steps that seem so unencumbered by worry. Why should she worry when there are two fully armed adults on either side of her. Her own personal guard in a manner of speaking. “There hasn’t been anything out here for daaaaaays.” She drags the word out like it's the most horrible thing in the world that it’s been peaceful. 

Joel snorts, rolling his eyes as you glance over at him and then look back out at the surrounding terrain. “Yeah, that’s why we are on guard.” He grunts, even though his own rifle is on his shoulder. His hand gripped the shoulder sling loosely but he had only just put it up there half an hour ago after you had taken your turn relaxing as much as you can. “it’s too fucking quiet.” 

He’s right. After the disasters that had been Kansas City, you had tried to avoid major cities, but even in the small towns, you had come across plenty of cordyceps and clickers. You hate the clickers with a passion.

The isolation can account for a lot of the silence. Miles stretching between remnants of civilization. The crumbling buildings and overgrown roads give the entire midwest a sense of peace. It’s unnerving. 

Your grip adjusts, head rolling around your shoulders slightly to try to loosen the knot that builds up in your shoulders after so long. The weight of your pack isn’t as heavy as it should be, the rations not exactly filling since you had to escape that one clicker in Du Bois, Nebraska. Your pack had been ripped and most of the food you had been carrying was lost. 

You glance over at Joel, noticing the way his shoulders seem to hang, almost a reflection of the way you feel. “We need to risk a larger town.” You murmur quietly, knowing that his first instinct will be to argue with you. You stumble slightly over a rock and hiss when you feel the hole in the sole of your boots. 

“Too dangerous.” Joel snorts, shaking his head even as he watches you regain your footing. “I’ve got some duct tape in my bag.” He reminds you, knowing that you should probably reinforce that shoe before you lose the sole all together. 

“It’s not just shoes.” You protest, trying to ignore the way that Ellie groans obnoxiously loud and stomps her foot. 

“Come on, man!” She throws her own arguments into the ring. “I need tampons! We could find them if there was jack shit out here, but there’s not. Do you want me to attract wild animals?” She presses, glaring at Joel who looks equal parts horrified and unconvinced. She cracks an evil grin. “Circling us in the wild as I just leave behind a trail of blood? Aaaaand tears.” She adds, lifting her brows. “Periods are really emotional things.” 

Biting your lip to keep from snorting, you watch as Joel; normally stoic, no bullshit Joel, can’t seem to string together the words to respond. His eyes slide over to you, almost pleading with you to say something. 

Your brows lift in question and he twitches slightly, his dark eyes unhappy with you not immediately jumping in to save him. “We could use the food if we can find any.” You rationalize, smirking when his brows pinch together and he looks like he had just been betrayed. 

“Clean underwear!” Ellie adds. “Or….cleaner. And a heavier fucking coat.” She shivers slightly and you can see that is the moment when Joel caves. He acts like a prick most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for the kid. He won’t admit, maybe not even to himself, but he looks over at the faded and nearly rusted out sign. 

You continue walking, not pressing any more and you can hear the grumbling thoughts that are rolling through Joel’s mind. The now half hearted protests about why this is such a bad idea but you wait for the sigh. 

Almost even with the sign is when it comes, heavy and it sounds almost pained. Like he is going against everything he believes in. “Stop.” He huffs, shuffling to pull his bag off his back and kneeling down with a groan and the small pops of fifty plus year old knees. Unzipping the pocket where he keeps the Atlas and flips the worn pages to Nebraska. Glancing back at the road behind you and then at the sign before looking at the map. Tracing the route that you had already traveled before looking ahead at the towns that were on highway 77. 

Ellie doesn’t say a word but she practically bounces on her toes as she waits for his decision. You know that he’s going to agree, it’s just a matter of which town he chooses. He knows the truth of the situation. Winter is going to come quicker than any of you want, your food supply is low, you could probably all use a new set of boots, and all of you would kill for a halfway decent musty mattress to sleep on. Four walls and a hopefully non-leaking roof over your heads would be the icing on the cake. 

“Wymore is coming up in fifty-eight miles.” He taps the map and looks up at you to see what you think. 

Ellie shuffles slightly and instead of grinning, you crane your neck to look at the map yourself. “It looks like it’s bigger than the last few towns, but at least it’s not like we are running into Lincoln.” You hum before you nod. “I say we try.”

“Yessssss!” The teenager pumps her fist in excitement and she grins when Joel rolls his eyes. You’ve noticed that like any normal teenager, her favorite activity is annoying any kind of parental unit and pushing boundaries. This applies to Joel whether or not he likes it. “I want to find another joke book too.” 

Joel groans but you just turn around, grinning yourself as Joel mumbles under his breath, stuffing the map back in his pack and zipping it up. Joel and Ellie are alike in a lot of ways, especially their penchant for mumbling. 

You resist the urge to offer him a hand up, knowing he will be even more pissy if you do. For someone who complains about being older, he gets downright grouchy when he’s reminded of that same fact. “Well then, the quicker we get there, the quicker we don’t have to hear ‘are we there yet?’.” You snort, making Ellie grin shamelessly as she shrugs, knowing she will do exactly that. 

“So let’s get going.” She doesn’t wait for anyone, just setting off down the road and leaving the two of you to catch up with her. 

****

It takes you nearly three days to get to Wymore. All of you are tired, but Joel is the one who barely sleeps, even when you force him to lay down. It’s as if he cannot stop trying to protect Ellie, and also you, long enough for him to rest. He gets upset when he has to sleep, staying up until he is nodding off. The coffee supply has been exhausted and it’s probably a good thing. He would drink it all day to the point where his hands would shake from too much caffeine. Still he just wouldn’t trust you to make sure that no one snuck up on you for a few hours until he was past the point of being useless. 

The first signs of the town are a welcomed relief but it’s also an added source of tension. Each mile that you had traveled had added to the fear that this might be the time that you fail. That something goes wrong and someone else dies. The road here has not been easy and the losses have weighed heavily on all of you. Joel still won’t even mention Tess and you hate it when you wake up in the early morning hours to find him staring down at the broken face of his watch with a look that breaks your heart. 

Every approach into a new area can mean danger, either from the clickers or from humans and honestly you don’t know which one you fear more. Your gun is back in your hand, the weight of it familiar and comforting as you pass the first gas station, the windows busted out and dried fungus clinging to the building. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, uneasy at the presence of the fungal vines, even if they look like they aren’t active.

“I wonder why it looks pink.” Ellie frowns as she squints at the building. “It’s usually an ugly brown color, right?” She looks towards Joel for confirmation, but he’s busy frowning at the building himself. 

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea.” If the cordyceps have spread this far out of town then there’s a possibility there are still active branches closer to the supplies that you are looking for. 

“Come on man.” Ellie groans, kicking a dirt clod. “There’s nothing for miles. It’s probably all dead.” 

You know that Ellie is probably right, but it’s a risk. You bite your lip, looking over at Joel. “Why don’t we sweep the town and we can see?” You ask, knowing that if everything is dead, you could desperately use the rest. Cordyceps rarely return en masse when the vines have withered and died. It could be a safe place to recharge and for Joel to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. 

You’ve stopped walking as you talk, Joel looking around as he contemplates your alternatives. To be honest, there aren’t many and both of you know it. Not without a lot of backtracking which none of you want to do. 

Joel sighs and you know that he’s going to agree. He turns to Ellie. “Don’t fucking touch anything until we say it’s alright.” He points at her for good measure, as if his finger would impress the importance of his words. “Got it?” 

“Got it.” She huffs. “Jesus, you act like we haven’t done this before.” You roll your eyes and look away, knowing you shouldn’t encourage her right now. 

It takes hours to make your way into the center of town. Not because you are blocked by clickers or avoiding humans, it’s because you are stocking up. It’s like the fungus took over this town and just let it rot. Nothing inside the first few blocks of town is disturbed. No looting has been done here, plenty of supplies to be had. 

Both you and Joel have been cautious but slowly optimistic as you’ve found boots and heavy jackets, gloves and hats. A new pair of clothes have been rolled into everyone’s bags and you’ve even grabbed another pack to fill with the mylar sealed packs of camping food from the sporting goods store. It was a miracle that nothing had been ransacked, but it makes you wonder exactly what the fuck happened here. Did the army sweep through and round up all the residents right away? It would make sense, but then why were there dead spores of the fungus here? You haven’t seen one body so far and it makes you nervous. 

“This place is a fucking gold mine.” Ellie grins like a kid in a candy store, perhaps because you’ve actually found candy and she has been sucking on the jolly ranchers until the top of her mouth is raw. “Now we just need to find a place to sleep. I want my own room.” 

Glancing over at Joel, you expect him to immediately tell her no, but he doesn’t say a word. Continuing to look around like he is expecting a clicker to pop out from the doorway of the local McDonald’s, now completely covered in that strange pink fungus. It’s like he doesn’t even hear her as he frowns at the building. 

She takes that as approval and immediately starts talking about how she’s going to spread out. Making you snort when she talks about sitting in her underwear for an hour. There hasn’t been a lot of privacy out here on the road, so you can understand that desire. 

“Joel.” You murmur his name softly, knowing that the best thing you can do is to find the motel and get settled down for the night before the sun sets. Even if this town is as safe as it appears on the surface, you would rather not be fumbling around in the dark . He doesn’t look over at you, still staring at the overgrown building as if it’s holding the secret. Maybe it reminds him of the Boston Museum, ominously covered with the tentacles of the fungus and the horrors that you had found inside it. “Joel!”

“What?” His head whips around, body tense as he’s ripped out of his thoughts. Relaxing when he finds you and Ellie staring at him. “We need to find the motel.” You remind him, nodding towards the sun getting lower in the sky. “I think we could all use a good night’s sleep.” 

He stares at you for a moment, his eyes searing your face, looking for some hidden meaning beneath your words before he glances over at an eager Ellie. “Yeah, sure.” He agrees, adjusting his rifle to sling it onto his shoulder and adjusts his now much heavier pack on his back. “Probably on the other side of the main drag.” 

His new boots thump against the cracked pavement. The roads leading deeper into the town is the guide towards what will hopefully be a comfortable bed and at least eight hours of sleep. 

Your own new boots feel pretty good, but maybe a day or so here, going through supplies and really making sure that you can take on the coming winter would be a good thing. Allowing you to break in the shoes without blisters. You’ll have to talk about it with Joel after Ellie sequesters herself for the night. 

It’s about another fifteen minutes before you get to the small motel that looks like it will be a good place to spend the night. Half the building is covered in another large cluster of the fungus, the pink hue looking particularly bright in the fading sun. 

“We’ll get some keys.” It will be better than breaking down doors, especially since the motel wasn’t equipped with the keycards that the high end hotels had started switching to before society came crashing down. 

The bad news is that the motel doesn’t have any adjoining rooms, so Joel and Ellie get into a small spat about her having her own room, Ellie eventually winning after promising that she will block the door with a dresser and he’s allowed to sweep the room before she locks herself in. Half the building is so overtaken by the vivid pink fungus that you swear looks like a big splat of bubblegum thrown over the walls. 

She doesn’t even want to have dinner with you and Joel, making the man go through the room and then telling you both goodnight and shutting the door in your face. Making you laugh as Joel frowns at the door, rethinking this entire situation. 

“Well, you can have a room to yourself too.” You offer, smirking as he cuts his eyes towards you. You know that Joel would rather everyone sleep where he can keep his eyes on them, so you getting privacy is off the table. 

“Shut up.” Joel grunts, walking down towards the next room and kicking it open, watchful even though you’ve both already been in the room and deposited your bags. It’s a nice room, two double beds so each one of you can stretch out and relax. 

You laugh quietly and decide to walk down the railing towards the portion of the building that has been overtaken by the fungus. Your curiosity about this variant is finally getting the best of you and you want to get a better look at it. 

It’s thick. The tendril that is draped over the metal railing of the second floor, wrapping around it and up the support column. You bite your lip, tilting your head when you see the withered remnants of some kind of flower. What kind of fungus sprouts flowers?

You jump when something touches your back, whirling around to find Joel behind you, holding his hands up. He smirks at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Fuck you.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes and he huffs. “What are you doing?” He asks. 

Turning back towards the fungus, you sigh. “This is different from any other kind I’ve ever seen.” You comment, stepping closer to it only to feel Joel reach for your arm to pull you back. “It’s dried out.” You remind him, jerking your head towards the husk of the cordyceps. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” You know that he spent a lot of time sneaking out of the Boston QZ, it’s possible he had seen it before. 

He grunts, relaxing his hold on you and he shuffles slightly closer, looking at the flower buds that extend from the tendrils. His own suspicions about anything fungus related is deep, but it’s dried. “I haven’t.” He admits after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly and trying to think if there is any reason why this pink coloring has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. 

“So it’s something new.” You bite your lip and lean in, feeling the disapproval radiate off of Joel in hot waves but you ignore him. Tilting your head and reaching out to touch one of the dried flowers. 

“Don’t-”

The second your finger touches the wilted bloom, it bursts open, spurting you and Joel behind you in a cloud of pink dust. You gasp, holding your breath but there’s no hope for not inhaling the pollen. 

“Fuck!” Joel coughs, shaking his head and backing up so quickly he hits the side of the building and reaches out to drag you away from the lingering cloud of dust and starts to practically beat it off the two of you. “We need- we need-” He leans over and starts coughing, obviously having inhaled just as much of it as you had. 

“We’re okay.” You gasp, shaking your head and brushing the dust off your clothes. “We- it’s dead. Right?” You hate that you are asking that, but you hadn’t expected that from a dried out fungus.

“It- we should clean up.” Joel blinks, the pollen making his eyes itch and that has to be the cause of the rush of heat that slides over him. It’s just adrenaline. Fear. Anything that would scare both of you would make the slight nip in the air disappear and make you feel like your skin is superheated.

The water is gravity fed. The large cisterns on the roof are still full and while it’s not warm, perhaps a cold shower might be better right now. Joel drags you both to the room and locks the door, although he doesn’t push a dresser in front of it in case Ellie needs you in the night. 

In the bathroom, you are shaking as you start to strip down, worrying about how stupid you just were and if you completely fucked yourself. The anxious fear covering the way your skin seems to burn and feel so sensitive to everything. Shuddering when your hand brushes over your thigh as you push your jeans down and kick them off before you pull your shirt over your head and remove your bra. 

Clean up. Get the pollen off your skin and cool down. Your body seems to be working on overdrive. Your nipple hard under the cold water and instead of gasping in shock, you moan softly. Enjoying the sensation and reaching for the bar of soap that is still wrapped in plastic. 

Hurry up, hurry up. Joel paces around the room, his hands curled into fists. Practically sweating even though the air is cool as the sun sets. His body feels like it’s on fire, like he is battling a sickness. 

Over and over again, he goes through the symptoms of the infection of the cordyceps, there’s no veining, he’s stopped and checked his eyes and reflection in the peeling mirror about twenty times in the five minutes you’ve been in the bathroom. And he doesn’t fucking think the fungus makes his cock harder than a fucking rock in his jeans. 

He’s not thought about sex in months. Nothing beyond fleeting moments of attraction to you that he swiftly buries under guilt and responsibility. Normally, it is when you’re bent over and your ass is presented to him in such a way that he thinks about sinking into you from behind, or when your shirt pulls tight over your breasts and he imagines cupping them in his hands as you sit on his cock. Immediately dismissed and ignored as he reminds himself of how he had failed Tess, he doesn’t deserve to find warmth and comfort in your arms. 

Now, it’s all he can think about. The urge to palm his cock makes his fingers twitch and he almost moves his hand over his crotch before he flinches back to reality and tries to examine his face in the mirror again, wondering if his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep or if he is infected. 

Scrubbing your body is nearly painful, wanting to stop and touch yourself, but you can’t. You need to get this done and get out so Joel can shower. Still, despite the cold water, you feel like you are on fire when you shut off the water and realize that you didn’t bring your bag into the bathroom. You will have to go out there in nothing because you can’t put those clothes back on. Not until they have been washed. 

Moderately dry, you hear Joel bang on the door. “Hurry up.” He growls, making you clench your thighs together at the raspy tone and hating how it spears through you. You know Joel isn’t interested in you, hasn’t ever looked at you like that and the crush that you had on the man had been buried deep. 

“I’m done.” You don’t have a chance to be embarrassed as you open the door and Joel practically shoves past you into the bathroom and slams it behind him. “Fuck.” Your annoyance cools the heat for a moment, but it’s only temporary. 

The water is icy, but still, Joel curls his hands into fists against the shower wall. He’s fucking hard. Harder than he had probably ever been in his entire life, even when he was a horny teenager and would have fucked anyone who let him between their thighs. He’s not felt like this ever. The need to touch himself builds to the point where his hips are rocking into thin air against the spray of the water. Want clawing up his throat and pooling in his stomach in a heavy knot. 

You don’t dress, you can’t. Crawling under the covers of one of the beds, you listen to Joel groan in the bathroom, it’s muted over the sound of the shower but it’s sexy. All of his sounds are sexy, from the low grunts he gives when he’s stiff and sore, to the huffs and groans of annoyance. It’s all sexy to you. The rasp of his voice when he’s not spoken for a few hours. 

Closing your eyes, it’s easy to give in, to let your hands drift over your skin. He’s not here, you can take care of this frantic need that is swirling inside you. You just need to slide your hand between your thighs and ease it. It wouldn’t take much more than a few swipes of your fingers against your pulsing and aching clit. 

Trying to fight it, you concentrate on your breathing, in and out. Inhaling slowly and holding it so you can exhale when the burn in your lungs tells you that you’ve reached your limit. It helps, but not much. Not when you’re imagining Joel in his shower. Touching him. Being free to touch him and having his hands on your body in return. 

Your hands slip over your breasts, squeezing them hard enough to moan softly and your legs shift to press together. Clenching around nothing and wishing that you were full while your hands start to move down over your stomach. 

The first touch is almost a relief, your entire core quivering as your fingers press against your clit. It’s overwhelming and not enough. You need more, fingertips pressing and rubbing around the puffed up bundle of nerves. You’re already soaked and can feel it dripping down your slit. 

Spurred on by that insatiable need, you slide your fingers around your entrance and start to press them inside. Biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning. Imagining that it’s more, that it’s a cock that is starting to break you open and fill that void that is aching. 

You are so caught up in the bliss of that first stretch of your fingers that you don’t hear the shower turn off. The quiet curses coming from the bathroom are muffled by the rush of blood in your ears, the feeling of relief coursing through your nerves and taking over. You don’t hear the click of the lock and the turn of the handle. The door opening doesn't even register as you plant your heels on the bed and push your hips up, needing to get your fingers deeper, not quite reaching the spot inside you that craves fullness. 

You don’t hear him until he chokes out a sound that is pained and low, like he’s injured. Your eyes pop open as you lurch up off the bed, your fingers ripping themselves out of your cunt hard enough to make you whimper. Fixed on Joel’s towel draped body, tented over his waist. 

“Joel, I-” “Fuuuuuck.” He growls, his eyes closing and his hands bunches into fists, one holding his towel and the other by his side. “I’ve tried to not think about you, about touching you.” His words are rasped out, strained against his vocal cords. “I’ve goddamn beat into my brain that you aren’t to be thought about this way and now, I can’t stop.” His stomach clenches and his body twitches as he struggles to keep still. 

Your chest heaves and you see his eyes drop down to your uncovered tits. His jaw clenching and his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows. “I - I need to touch myself.” You admit breathlessly. “I - it hurts so bad and I need something inside me.” 

Joel groans again, shuddering so violently that you can see him shake from where you are. “I’ve jerked off in the shower twice and it's still hard.” He drops the towel, revealing his hard and leaking cock, making you whimper at the sight and clench around nothing. “I think that- that we- that the flower-” “I don’t care.” You moan, shaking your head and crawling to your knees and shuffling forward. Showing him all of you and so goddamn desperate to touch him that you think you are about to explode. “Touch me, Joel. Fuck, touch me, please.” You beg, your hands on your own body. “We-” He shakes his head and his face changes, morphs into pain.

“Fuck me.” You hiss, watching as his resolve breaks. His cock bounces as he lunges for you, hard and swift, driving you back to the bed with a bounce. Almost as if he is attacking you. 

He’s not gentle. His mouth finding yours in a harsh kiss, your permission unleashing the coils of restraint that he had tried to put on himself. His grip bruises as he hauls you up the bed and settles between your thighs. 

You’ve always attributed Joel with rough gentleness. The type of man who would make you ache and then hold you close. Groaning in pleasure when you find out that is exactly what Joel Miller is like. His hands spreading your thighs with a desperation that proves he is just as afflicted by this fungal pollen as you are. His cock hard and pressing against your folds as he rocks his hips forward to line up. Almost unable to find the hole with his eagerness to sink into you. 

“Joel, hurry.” Your hands shake, holding onto him and urging him closer to you, frantic with need now that you know that you are going to have him inside you. 

“Goddamn, I’m trying.” He hisses, hating to let you go so he can take his cock in hand. Rocking into his own grip as he shuttles his hips forward. “I’m fuckin’ trying, sweetheart.” 

You whimper when you finally feel him pressing against your entrance, choking out a sound of need that is animalistic. Only to cry out in bliss as he pushes inside you without another delay. 

He groans, eyes cinched shut as he slides inside you to the hilt, burying himself in your heat and feeling that coil in his stomach tighten even more now that your walls are around him. Immediately starting to move just as soon as he fills you, driving by that need and burning in his very veins. 

It’s exquisite, the pain and pleasure blending and fusing in your stomach, nerves alight and responding to every small movement. You can’t get enough of him, you need more. Wrapping  your legs around his hips, you rise to meet his harsh thrusts. Clenching down around him every time he hits that spot deep inside you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers. 

He shouldn’t be inside you, he shouldn’t be touching you, but now that he is, he can’t stop. Turning his head, he presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth. Needing more. Kissing you like he had imagined a thousand times before. Giving into every urge he has had since the day he met you and repressed before right now. Snapping his hips forward sharply and pulling every groan out of your mouth to swallow down. 

Every thrust makes it better, eases that burning in your core, your cunt slick and squelching every time he drives into you. He absorbs every sound you make, almost greedy for them. His hips jarring as they slam into you. Rocking you both up the bed. 

“Oh god,” breaking away from the kiss, you moan into his ear. Closing your eyes as he pants and puffs while he fucks you. “So deep, so deep, Joel.” Your nails drag down his back, making him hiss in pleasure and pain. 

“Shit.” He groans your name, lost in the rhythm of his thrusts and the building pressure. “You needed this?” He growls, making you clench down around him hard and whimper his name. “Yessss.” You agree, nodding against the pillow. “Needed it so bad.” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” He huffs, burying his face against your neck. Continuing to pound into you, and not letting up even though his back is screaming in pain. His body won’t let him do anything but rock his hips. Driven by a need that overrides everything else. 

His words make you burn, making you even more desperate for him. Your hips rock up and legs tightening around his waist even more. Loving how his cock stretches you out and scrubs against every nerve in your cunt. Lighting up your body until you are gasping on the edge of that much needed orgasm. 

Every plunge into your body brings him closer to cumming, desperate to feel that emptiness, that wrung out filling once he has filled you. He shouldn’t cum inside you, he knows that, but he’s not going to be able to stop himself. He can barely pull back enough to rock his hips back into you. 

His arms have banded around you, holding you into place as he fucks you. Deep and primal, as if he is trying to fuse the two of you into one. His cock punches into the depths of your body that you never imagined anyone reaching, but he touches it with ease. Your body pulsing with that need to come apart. 

“So close, I’m so close, baby.” You whine, body starting to tremble underneath him. “So close.” Your nails dig into his shoulder, grounding yourself to him in desperation. “Joel.” 

“I gotcha.” He groans, eyes closed and his breath fanning against your skin. “I’mma take good care of you, sweetheart.” He promises. “You’re gonna cum all over my cock, ain’t cha? Just like you wanted.” 

His words throw you over the edge, that need built up so tight inside you that it busts on the next thrust. Lights careen and collide behind your eyes, bright and beautiful as your whole body ignites into pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Crying out loudly and soaking  him in a wave of your juices. Cumming harder than you ever have before. 

Joel growls your name, his hips stuttering as you come apart around you. Unable to hold back any longer. He buries himself deep into your hot passage and paints your walls with sticks ropes of his seed. Panting against your lips as he empties himself body and perhaps his very soul into you. 

Both of you pant, relieved and exhausted from the pure exertion of need as you had taken from each other. Joel presses into you, trying to catch his breath, but the fire is still burning low in his belly, his cock still not softening as it twitches inside you. 

“Oh fuck.” You feel that same desire still curling in your stomach, not satisfied by the intensity of the orgasm that you are still coming down from. “Joel-” 

He huffs and shakes his head. “Don’t-” he presses his lips to your again, body screaming as he starts to move again. “Shhhhhh.” 

The need still burns and both of you are still locked in its fiery grip, not yet free from the desire that washed over you from a burst of pollen. 

****

“What the fuck man, open the door!” The thudding on the door finally penetrates the bone deep sleep you had finally fallen into. You don’t know how many time Joel fucked you, or how many times he had spend himself inside you as you blearily open your eyes. 

Joel grunts, slowly opening his own eyes and unwinding himself from the tangled together position that you had passed out in. The knocking on the door keeps on. “Joel!” Your name is also shouted, Ellie starting to sound somewhat panicked when neither one of you is immediately opening the door. 

“Fuck! I’m coming.” He drags the top blanket off the bed and wraps it around his waist before flinging the door opened to blink into the harshness of the sun. “What?” He growls roughly, making Ellie’s eyes blow wide with shock.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” She demands, pushing into the room and stopping short when she sees you sitting up in the only bed that has been disturbed, the sheet anchored beneath your armpits. “Oh shit, you fucked.” She gasps, turning and shooting Joel an impressed grin. “Way to go, old man, you made a move.” Her grin quickly turns into an expression of mild disgust when she realizes that she’s congratulating you two on having sex. “Uh, I’m gonna go now.” She huffs, wrinkling her nose and pinching it. “It smells in here.” Waving her hand in front of her face, she darts back out the door and Joel just stands there for a moment before he rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door before he thinks better of it. Sticking his head out of the room, he shouts after Ellie. “Stay away from the fucking fungus!” 

You snort, grinning to yourself as your body starts to ache. Fucking fungus indeed. 

[commodorez]

Crusty, the Macintosh SE

Crusty was found in a scrapper's yard, having sat out in the rain for quite some time. It was rescued from that yard, and was pretty damaged internally, rusted and not great. It was neither worth repairing, nor had anything to salvage to repair other machines, minus a stick of RAM. Hard drive was seized up, motherboard wasn't great, etc.

Surprisingly, it didn't take much to get it to run 2 years ago at VCF East in 2021. Seeing as there was nothing to lose, the owner then buried in the dirt for a year, excavating it just before VCF East in 2022. It was brought to the show, cleaned off enough to see what was going on, and miraculously, it ran again! Following the event, it was then unceremoniously kicked into a lake where it sat for 8 months, before being extracted prior to the first freeze that could have destroyed the picture tube. It sat in a barn until VCF East this year.

What you see here is how it arrived at the show, followed by the crowd of folks who gathered to watch this chaotic repair attempt by a friend of the owner. It was cleaned slightly, then signed by a number of youtubers, before an attempted diagnostic and repair was attempted. Sadly, the power supply was beyond saving. A donor supply was attached, but it too was broken.

Crusty will return at VCF Midwest later this year, to be repaired at the show with the right replacement parts.

[midsummer-semantics]

if the world was ending

Okay, I told myself I wasn't going to write anything for @steddieangstyaugust but apparently I lied (I'm sorry)

Here's for day 1: Second Chance

CW: Slight agoraphobia

[not posted to AO3 but you can find other things there.]

When the earthquake hits, he’d like to say he thinks about his parents first. That he wonders where they are and if they're safe or if they’d hear about it from wherever they are in the world. If they’d call to check on him, even though they never did before.

He'd like to say he thinks about Robin, who's two states away studying for a graduate degree in International relations and communication, and likely doesn't feel the ground moving beneath her feet like he does.

Hell, he'd like to say he thinks about the kids, but most of them are scattered themselves, starting college programs (Will, Mike, Dustin) or sports training camps (Lucas) or exploring the West Coast (Max and El).

No, Steve is alone in his big, empty house when it hits, and the only thing on his mind is that they were wrong. Indiana doesn't get earthquakes, so something else has to be afoot. Six years since they defeated Vecna, since everyone tried to move on with their lives while Steve stayed because that's what he does, he stays.

A touchstone Dustin had called him once. Something to do with foundation and a connecting center. Steve still thinks it might have just been him and the rest of the group trying to make him feel better about still being stuck in the same house, in the same town, doing nothing and going nowhere.

He's alone and he thinks 'This is it. What I've been waiting for.'

He has a 6-year-old emergency pack stored that should have more dust on it if it wasn't for the way he chronically checks it. His trusty bat and a duplicate he made just in case, plus the ax he used the last time, are all near enough to the door. He's not sure what the protocol is for earthquakes, having grown up in the Midwest, but he's pretty sure he's not supposed to be indoors, right?

It doesn't last very long, but it doesn't matter. A few seconds of the ground shaking and rolling beneath his feet are enough to jumpstart him into action.

He's gathering supplies, cursing himself for taking too long, when the phone in the kitchen rings.

He should ignore it, knows that whatever or whoever it is can wait until he's secured the area and alerted the cavalry that something is happening. It'll take days for people to get here and Steve thinks he might he able to hold off whatever's coming out of whatever rift has sprung up until then, but he doesn't have time to think about it too hard.

The phone rings off the hook as Steve takes too damn long to double-check that nothing is in the house before he even attempts to go outside, and Steve knows he can't just leave it. Not in case it's someone who's still in town who knows he's here: Mrs. Wheeler, Claudia, Jim or Joyce.

He nearly rips the cord out of the wall when he answers.

"Stevie?!" comes the frantic voice of the person he least expects to be on the other side.

"Eddie?"

"Steve, oh my god." He can hear Eddie panting. "Are you okay?"

It's the first time Steve's heard Eddie's voice in five years. Since Eddie made good on his promise to run like hell out of here, something he'd repeated to anyone who would listen until he finally did. Five years since Steve had realized he was halfway in love with him after saving the world and never got to say anything because he was a coward and Eddie was leaving anyway so what was the point?

He'd gotten one phone call when Eddie arrived in Denver and it's been radio silence since then. Truthfully, he couldn't blame the guy, but Steve had had... thoughts... feelings... probably brought on by end-of-the-world shit but nonetheless. And then Eddie just—

Vanished.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you?" he asks.

"We're good," Eddie replies, and only then does he hear the rough grumble of Eddie's uncle in the background, asking why Eddie's on the phone at nearly 3 in the morning.

"Earthquake, old man," Eddie shouts, still too close to the receiver for Steve's already damaged hearing.

Oh.

So, Eddie's in town. Cool. Steve had no idea. Doesn't know when Eddie got in or if he ever intended to tell Steve he was here at all. That's fine.

"Sorry, Stevie. Woke Wayne up. Shit— did I wake you up too?"

Steve swallows harshly, shaking his head even though Eddie can't see it. "No, I was already awake."

"Me too," Eddie replies. "Jet lag. Just got in a few hours ago. What a welcome home, huh?"

"Sure," Steve says, wondering what the point of this call is. "Look, I'm glad to hear from you, but I really need to—"

"Wait!" Steve shuts his mouth, his teeth clacking harshly. "It's fine. Everything is fine."

"Dude, there was an earthquake just now—"

"And it wasn't You-Know-What related," Eddie states, a bit of his franticness back in his voice. "They're leveling part of the plant for safety issues. Wanted to do it at night so no one would freak out." Steve cringes. Hawkins wasn't exactly magnanimous about the rebuilding efforts last time, but he doesn't go to city council meetings to hear about what the efforts might have been since then. "That's part of why I'm home. Wayne's got an extended leave until they sort out what else to do."

Steve sighs, dropping the emergency pack on the floor and leaning the ax he'd managed to grab against the wall. "Oh. Great. Wish they'd have told everyone else just in case."

"I know, sweetheart. But everything is okay."

Sweetheart.

Steve's actual heart skips a beat hearing that again.

"I'll be back, sweetheart. I promise."

"So... you're here then? In Hawkins?"

There's a beat of silence, some shuffling on the other end. "Well, yeah. I told you I'd come back."

"For your uncle."

"He's part of it."

Steve hesitates, hating himself for even considering getting his hopes up.

"And the other part?"

"My guy is here."

When the earthquake hit, he’d like to say he thought about his parents first.

No, he'd thought it was the end of the world. And above that, all he could think about was Eddie.

[californiaboytoybilly]

Billy, who has only ever known a life of ‘use or be used’ comes to Hawkins, Indiana with exactly one plan.

To get the fuck back out.

But see, the problem is that that takes money. Money he definitely doesn’t have.

The first night in his new room, he doesn’t bother to unpack. No, he sits on the floor by his bare mattress and he plots.

It’s not worth the risk trying to steal from Neil. Can’t escape this shithole if he’s fucking dead. Getting a job and actually managing to keep the money without his father finding out would be… difficult.

Bored housewives would probably be willing to shell out gifts for the privilege of a quick fuck to forget their balding, miserable husbands. It wasn’t much, but it was a thought to consider.

He leaves that half finished plan open in his brain when he goes to his first day at Hawkins High, only to have the page ripped up and burned at the first sight of one Steve Harrington.

Bored and- seemingly- apathetic pretty boy with absent parents and a big house. Considerably more his type than some desperate midwest housewife with sickly sweet perfume and a simpering voice.

And clearly rich.

By the second week of classes, Billy has caught Steve’s eyes lingering on him a few too many times.

So starts what would become both the only thing that mattered to him, and the worst thing he’d ever do.

His usual charm doesn’t work on Steve, so he goes the other way. Taunts him, a bully pulling on his pigtails until one day Steve snaps and kisses him behind the gym until Billy almost forgets why he’s doing this entirely.

At first, he feels no guilt in it. They don’t talk feelings, it’s just good fucking sex and Steve apparently loves to give gifts.

Gifts that are too thoughtful. Too knowing.

First aid supplies. Clothes. Buying him expensive dinners to make up for the nights Billy was sent to his room without a bite to eat the entire day, even if he didn’t know that.

Billy starts to become more aware of his plan as the days, then months slip by. He thinks of all the times Steve has given him money for gas or other things, how Billy has lied to him. How all that money is stashed away, just waiting for a chance that he can disappear into the night like an asshole outlaw.

Steve becomes his boyfriend and the guilt sits heavy and sticky in his gut. He starts to second guess what he’s been doing.

Billy doesn’t say he’s in love, not even when Steve does. He knows he is- has fought against it with every fibre of his being the whole fucked up way down- but he can’t bring himself to say it when his escape is on the horizon.

He comforts himself by telling himself Steve will forget about him. Move on and marry some docile stay-at-home wife who wouldn’t push his buttons the way Billy did.

But then, late one night, Steve says it again while he’s pressing Billy down into the mattress. And Billy- emotionally taken apart by a particularly bad day at home- crumbles. His eyes fill with tears and he says it back in a fit of weakness. The first time he’s ever said those words to someone.

I love you too.

That’s when his plan starts to fall apart. It’s become annoyingly apparent that he can’t escape this. Doesn’t want to. Steve has become his escape.

So even though it feels like pulling teeth, he starts to empty his stash. He buys Steve gifts now, because spending it on him makes him feel less vile. Takes Steve out on dates.

He finally feels a sense of relief when it’s gone, even if he says goodbye to California mournfully in the same thought.

It’s easier to be around Steve after that, even if a trace of the guilt always lingers. Easier to say he loves him when he isn’t constantly ready to say goodbye. Easier to open up to him.

He finally tells Steve the truth about Neil, and the first thing Steve does is offer him a place in his home if he needs to run.

Billy loves him. He feels free for the first time in his life. He’s happy.

And that’s when Steve finds out the truth.

[carmenpeach]

my little comic has ruined the way i see things like we got a big redbull display thing for free from craigslist cause it made me think of stanley and thats the only reason.

[wiisagi-maiingan]

Being Native in a rural community far from your tribe is. Hard.

There are no resources for Native people, no community centers or clubs or anything. I want to learn Anishinaabemowin from a proper teacher, I want to learn beadwork and weaving. I want to maybe dance once day. I want to hear my people's stories and histories directly. But my tribe is a 7+ hour drive away and there's only so much you can learn from videos online and it's hard to buy supplies for even the most basic things because so few sites are trustworthy.

I don't know how my grandma did it, how she lived so many decades away from her family and her tribe and her home, how she could bear the isolation that comes with being Native in the rural midwest.

I just feel stuck. When so much advice for reconnecting to your culture online is "find a community", what do you do when there is no community?

[prettyoddfever]

12/5/06 morning show

On December 5th P!ATD had to be at the San Jose Improv before 6am for a free Live 105 morning show performance. Anyone could show up to be in the audience and Switchfoot also performed. A lot of the fans who were there said that the whole band didn't seem to be morning people, but Brendon’s voice sounded especially bad & like he just woke up. This appearance was in Pacific time after the band had spent a couple weeks in the midwest & east coast... so I bet waking up before sunrise felt extra early too. I was just impressed that they were functioning tbh. They also played a big show in San Jose later that night.

The band performed acoustic versions of both IWSNT & Lying Is The Most Fun. I think it's hilarious how Brendon crosses himself at 02:17 in IWSNT... like he knows that his exhausted voice is not going to do it lol:

They also did a Q&A:

random things I loved from this:

Spencer cut his own hair the day before & it looked fine!

JWalk shared that he & Brendon sang their way through the Aladdin soundtrack together the first time they met.

Spencer joined in!! sometimes he sat & watched acoustic sets or didn’t even show up.

the never-ending spinal tap references haha

Bden’s wearing the scarf that a fan in the book club knit for him (it was originally for Jon but he had taken Ryan’s so they all kind of switched).

Jon Walker smelled like Christmas…. and then fangirls went and bought Bath & Body Work’s supply of “sensual amber” lol

[nameless-ken]

I LOVE YOUR WORK DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO DO THIS ITS JUST BEEN ROTTING IN MY BRAIN-Idk what the weather in your area is like- but I live in the Midwest and I imagine the first time Billy and reader are hanging out and the tornado sirens go off and he low key freaks out. Reader is unphased and standing on the porch calmly because reader is used to this and they are probably fine but Billy? He is scared shitless and confused why reader isn’t freaking out?! Billy would say “why are you standing on the porch!? Are you out of your fucking mind the sirens are going off we need to get downstairs! Oh my gosh this town is fucking crazy! Standing on the porch during storms” and maybe the roles are reversed when he eventually takes reader to California and she freaks out over an earth quake and he is unphased this time

I actually live in Indiana so I'm fully aware of that kind of weather (we actually had some tornados a couple weeks ago). Hope you like this, it was fun to write!

Check out my masterlist for more!

Weathering The Storm

You and Billy are hanging out on the steps at his place in Hawkins when suddenly the wail of tornado sirens pierces the air. You barely bat an eyelash, accustomed to the erratic weather patterns of this town. But Billy? He's practically jumping out of his skin.

"What the hell?" Billy's voice cracks with fear. "Why are you just standing there? We need to get down to the basement, now!"

You remain calm, unperturbed by the blaring sirens. "Relax, Billy," you say, your voice steady. "This happens all the time around here. We're fine on the porch. The wind is barely picking up.” You pass him the shared cigarette but he doesn’t take it. 

Billy isn't convinced. He starts pacing back and forth, his eyes wide with panic. "This town is insane," he mutters under his breath. "Standing out here like nothing's wrong."

You watch as he frantically gestures towards the door, urging you to seek shelter. It's clear he's not used to the unpredictability of Hawkins.

You can feel the tension radiating off Billy as he paces, his agitation palpable. You take a drag from the cigarette, the cherry glowing faintly in the dim light. "Seriously, Billy," you try to reassure him, "it's not as bad as it sounds. We've been through worse storms than this."

But Billy's nerves are frayed, his gaze darting nervously towards the sky. "I don't care," he snaps, his voice edged with panic. "I'm not risking it. We need to get to a safe place."

You sigh, knowing there's no reasoning with him when he's like this. Reluctantly, you stub out the cigarette and follow him inside, the sound of the sirens still echoing in the distance.

As you descend into the basement, Billy's fear subsides slightly but are replaced by a tense sort of resolve. You find a corner to hunker down in, surrounded by shelves of old junk and dust-covered boxes.

The minutes tick by slowly, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder. Eventually, the sirens fall silent, signaling that the danger has passed. You glance over at Billy, who looks visibly relieved but still on edge.

"See?" you say, trying to lighten the mood. "Nothing to worry about."

But Billy doesn't respond, his gaze fixed on something in the corner of the room. You follow his line of sight and freeze as you see it—a small, makeshift shelter, stocked with supplies and blankets. It's clear that Billy's fear isn't just a result of the storm—it's something deeper, something rooted in his past.

You reach out a hand to comfort him, but he pulls away, his expression unreadable. And as the storm rages on outside, you can't help but wonder what other demons lurk beneath the surface of Hawkins—and within the heart of Billy Hargrove.

Fast forward to a year later. You find yourselves in California, and suddenly the ground beneath you begins to tremble. Panic sets in as you realize it's an earthquake. You grab onto Billy, your heart racing.

"Shit," you exclaim, your voice trembling. "What do we do?!"

But Billy remains surprisingly calm, his expression unchanged. "Relax," he says, steadying you with a reassuring hand. "It's just an earthquake. We're safe here."

You can't help but feel a pang of irony as the roles reverse. Now it's you who's freaking out while Billy remains unfazed, a stark contrast to the events back in Hawkins.

You cling to Billy's arm, your heart pounding in your chest as the ground continues to shake beneath you. Everything around you rattles and sways, and for a moment, you feel completely helpless.

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice quivering. "What if it gets worse?"

But Billy's calm demeanor remains steadfast. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around you protectively. "Trust me," he says, his voice steady. "We'll be okay. Just stay close to me."

Reluctantly, you nod, trying to steady your breathing as the tremors gradually subside. As the initial panic begins to fade, you realize just how different this experience is from the storms back in Hawkins. There's a sense of inevitability to earthquakes, a reminder of the raw power of nature that no amount of preparation can fully mitigate.

Once the shaking finally stops, you release a shaky breath, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering unease. Billy pulls you into a tight embrace, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

"Thanks," you murmur, grateful for his calm reassurance.

Billy gives you a small smile, his eyes soft with understanding. "Anytime," he says, his voice warm. "We'll always get through these things together." He pecks your lips affectionately. 

And as you stand there, surrounded by the aftermath of the earthquake, you realize that while the roles may have reversed, your bond with Billy remains as steady as ever—a source of strength in the face of whatever challenges lie ahead.