#okay now we as a fandom need to decide how we are going to tag PLEASE.

[mimi-croissant]

Sunbearer Trials doodles bring them back to me

[shizucheese]

Hey guys, we need to talk. Because a certain little something in TMAGP 8 is causing what is genuinely the most toxic part of the Magpod fandom at large to once again rear its ugly head. So let's talk about podcast character appearance head canons, shall we?

I'm tagging this with the Magnus Archives, TMA and Magpod tags because I am absolutely calling all of you out, but if you don't want spoilers for The Magnus Protocol episode 8 then stop reading right now.

.

.

. Okay, so, Gerry exists in the TMAGP universe. He's happy (or at least acts cheerful). And some people have headcanoned this to mean that he is no longer goth, or at the very least isn't dying his hair black with bad box color. And other people have decided to get seriously agro over this. I have literally seen with my very own eyeballs someone call "un-gothing" Gerry a "hate crime" and calling the person they were talking to "gothphobic."

Let me make this absolutely clear for all of you: podcasts are a purely audio medium and unless a physical trait of theirs is explicitely stated, everyone's headcanon for how a character appears is valid. Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. But also

Rainbow Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid. Pastel Goth TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Not Goth At All TMAGP Gerry is valid.

Bald Gerry who has actually gotten his brain cancer diagnosed in time and is getting treated for it is valid. Somebody's headcanon of a character that has no canonical description to them, or whose headcanon matches the few crumbs of canonical description we have but otherwise doesn't look the way you imagine them to, is not going to take away from your own headcanon of what a character looks like. If someone imagining or drawing a character looking a different way from how you imagine them looking somehow takes away from your enjoyment of the fandom or otherwise makes you feel like you need to barge in and tell them that they're Wrong and need to conform to your headcanon or else, that is a reflection on you, not them.

And this problem way predates TMAGP, let alone TMAGP 8. The only description we have of John is that he is in his early 30's and has prematurely greying hair.

If someone thinks he looks like the pastiest motherfucker to ever dwell in a basement, an extra-in-the-Adam's Family or Tim Burtan protagonist of a man, let them.

What's that? You want to tell them that John is BROWN and if they don't headcanon him looking that way they're WRONG and RACIST? Back away from the keyboard and go outside.

(Ironically, as someone who started getting grey hairs in my hair in my 20's myself, I'm pretty sure everyone's headcanon of John, with tiny little whisps of grey in his hair, is wrong, because if he was so grey that people were surprised to learn he was "a child of the 90's," he was probably full on salt-and-pepper when he was in his 20's.)

The only description we have for Martin is that he (man who canonically has the self esteem of a used doormat) describes himself as "not the smallest guy", Not-Sasha called him "roomy", Melanie is skinner than him, and Jonny said he imagined him as a "bigger guy" who would beat Alex in a physical fight. If someone decides to take this information and conclude that it means he's tall, broad and has muscle, rather than that he's overweight, fucking let them. If your first instinct to this is to run to your keyboard and call them "fatphobic" or otherwise bash them for it, I once again urge you to back away from your keyboard and go outside.

Someone headcanons Basira not wearing a headscarf? We have exactly 0 canonical physical description of her and the people who headcanon her as having one are basing that purely off of her name alone. Fucking let them. Someone headcanons Melanie and/ or Georgie as a skin color you don't agree with or a hairstyle you don't like? Fucking let them. As long as someone's headcanon of a character's description doesn't contradict the few canonical descriptions we have of a character, why do you care? Them having a different headcanon from you doesn't take away your right to imagine the characters looking however you like, anymore than it should take away their right to do the same. Someone headcanoning John as white (or Black, or Asian, or Mixed, or whatever) isn't going to make all of the fanart of John as brown with long hair suddenly disappear, nor the fanfiction describing him as such (although I do often wonder if the opposite is not true; is the fact that John looks the same in so much of the fanart I see on here really because of fandom "consensus", or is it because people are absolutely awful to anyone who draws him Different?). Someone headcanoning Martin as not fat isn't going to make the mountains of fanart of him as a fluffy little marshmallow vanish into the void (although I do remember hearing about someone getting bullied off the internet for daring to draw Martin as not fat). And someone headcanoning Gerry in TMAGP as not being goth isn't going to take away your preciouse goth TMAGP Gerry headcanon. That should be part of the fun of it, shouldn't it? Seeing what different images people have conjured in their heads of these characters we only get to experience with our ears, and celebrating the differences as well as the similarities? Why are we bullying people into conforming to one appearance of a character when no actual canonical appearance of them exists?

[elizaleclerc]

vicious 🍒

charles leclerc x reader (smau)

summary: singer!reader starts soft launching a relationship with charles leclerc amidst a new album and tour after a messy breakup with lando norris...

song: (literally every single one mentioned lol)

author's note: back on my smau bs! faceclaim is sabrina carpenter bc DUHHH!!!! i honestly just loveee the messy drama and petty posts w this one

NEW ARTICLE: VANITY FAIR

After almost two years of fiery romance, pop singer Y/N and F1 driver Lando Norris split after cheating rumors

Rising pop sensation Y/N had temporarily put her music career on hold to accompany her new boyfriend, F1 rookie Lando Norris, on his journey to dominance. The couple's public debut was in Monaco, following Norris's first Formula One win last year. After being photographed together several times after that, the pair finally decided to be more public with their relationship, with Y/N attending every Grand Prix at Norris’s side. 

The media was ablaze with chatter about their fairytale romance, causing fans of both stars to swoon and declare them the next "it" couple. For nearly two years, Norris and y/l/n were inseparable, gracing every magazine cover and dominating headlines. But suddenly, everything changed. Rumors began circulating that Norris had been secretly seeing a stunning model for the past three months, sending shockwaves through the fandom. Soon, the once inseparable pair stopped appearing in public together, leaving fans to speculate if their relationship had met its bitter end. Now, all eyes are on Y/N as she prepares for her highly anticipated next album. Will she address the rumors and set the record straight, or will we all be left in the dark?

yourname proud to announce my second album, vicious, will be yours november 15th <3 more news soon x

liked by f1, charlesleclerc, landonorris, and others

-user8465 YES YES YES

-user9902 oh we're about to get all the answers

-user4558 if the album is as good as the cover photo we are about to get FED

-user5041 everyone place bets on how many of these songs are about lando...

landonorris A steady couple of weeks for the team, ready to take on more tracks soon!

liked by maxverstappen, mclaren, f1, and others

-user4902 sir are you aware you are about to get cooked

-user5506 um id go into hiding if i were you

-user4558 people already jumping to conclusions yall calm downnn

-user1141 have you not SEEN the cheating rumors??

-user4558 we have literally no idea what happened between them tho

-user1141 girl i fear we are about to know tho

yourname all because i liked a boy :,)

liked by charlesleclerc, sonymusic, f1, and others

-user0402 please tell me the caption is a lyric on the album i might die

-yourname shhhh...

-user0402 I DIED.

-user5903 charles being messy in the likes i cant

-user4304 y/n i don't think we are ready truly

yourname the first single, feather, is out now for you to love and enjoy!! kisses

liked by charlesleclerc, sonymusic, yourbestfriend, and others

-user3560 oh she's moved ON.

-user2094 "you wanted me, no DUH" we all said in unison

-user3932 im so sorry for your loss lando!!!

-user8856 she really just called this man a waste of time...icon behavior

-charlesleclerc A tune.

-user6678 CHARLES??

charlesleclerc Feels good to have a couple wins under our belt, the fight for the championship isn’t over yet.

liked by yourname, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others

-yourname red looks best

-user7704 hey so what does this mean

-user5089 charles dominance could bore fans

-user6723 so no ones gonna say anything about y/n in the comments? okay

yourname the vicious tour, coming to a city near you <3 check my website for more info ;)

liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc, sonymusic, and others

-charlesleclerc the ticket is already in my cart

-yourname what a loyal fan <3

-maxverstappen can i tag along?

-user4783 omg what did i walk in on

-user4370 charles and y/n i- um- how did-

-user3904 i need this album like yesterday i cannot wait any longer

yourname vicious is officially out now!!! creating an album is always so daunting, but everything i went through this past year has brought me to where i am now :,) the lyrics, melodies, and tears flowed out of me like a literal waterfall and this record slowly evolved into something so personal and beautiful, and i hope you all love it as much as i do. for those who have bought tickets to the tour, i'll see you all so soon. xoxo

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, maxverstappen, and others

-user3204 i simply have no words this is beautiful

-user5103 how is it possible to both cry and shake my ass to this album

-user0989 i know lando is somewhere sobbing and shaking

-user6434 everyone reply with ur fav songs so far!!

-charlesleclerc Picture You ;)

-yourname cheeky.

-user5568 could it be perhaps...because...its about you, charles?

charlesleclerc WORLD CHAMPION! It feels so good to finally have a WDC. The team has put in countless hours of work this season and it finally paid off. Red Bull and McLaren challenged us all year, but I've always had faith in myself and this team. This is a moment in my career that I will never forget. I'm ready to enjoy some time off, but I'll see you on the track soon.

liked by yourname, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others

-yourname my champion <3

-charlesleclerc ❤️

-user6845 OMG THIS IS NOT A DRILL

-user3579 we all love you charles!!!!

-user9356 charles wdc and y/n soft launch in the comments yall are we okay

-user5602 once again lando is probably crying and throwing up

-user1362 karma tastes so sweet

-yourname tell me about it

yourname he's good for my heart ☀️

liked by charlesleclerc, f1, sonymusic, and others

-charlesleclerc mon amour <3

-user5412 she's got him using that heart im obsessed

-user7584 going from wag to wag again she's truly iconic i fear

-user0049 girl why hide the face we recognize that man anywhere

-maxverstappen Soft launch of the century.

charlesleclerc my two loves. welcome to our little fam leo <3

liked by yourname, maxverstappen, f1, and others

-yourname love u both <3

-user6731 oh my god i might cry

-user0823 u can tell charles is so perfect for y/n im so happy for them

-user7803 charles better treat her well or we ride at dawn

-charlesleclerc i'll love her forever

-user4812 CRYING I LOVE THEMMM

thx for reading!! might make a part 2 with y/n on tour...

[viivenn]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Was I an ahole for warning mutual's friend about his past? 🫶

I had a mutual in a big fandom circa 2017-2018. She was kinda sweet but shy, sometimes really bitter at people so I didn't get too close but we chatted often. Now my fandom had a big incest/ pedo shipping problems and she was one of the few people on my tl who were loudly opposed to it. I don't think she sent hatemails but she ranted in tags or her own posts often. Saying this because we had a few older fandom friends who were much more vocal and she followed their words like gospel. So the conclusion was like a betrayal.

Some years later I felt her slowly ghosting me before she finally left fandom and deleted her account. Then she came back after a few months in a new persona, totally new fandom, going by they/them, no attachment to their previous fandoms, like a new person. I don't know if they meant to hide their past or not. They contacted me and we became moots again.

Then after maybe a year I noticed that we were no longer mutual, we sort of ghosted each other as our interests diverged more so no big deal.

About 4 years since then I found myself getting into the thing they were last into. I accidentally stumbled upon their popular posts and decided to reconnect. They were going by he/him now so he was very nice and welcoming. He told me to chat with him and ask anything I needed to know, recced good blogs etc. We chatted frequently as it seemed like he was a completely different person, no longer shy or bitter, very openly into shipping and smut, happily engaging with dead dove content in the new fandom. This one also has canon incest, so I asked how he coped, he said he lost his mind in the old fandom he just filters the unwanted things out.

Now I don't know, how he changed that much or became friends with incest shippers, how he could be so casually okay with this when he was vocal about supporting survivors before. Then I saw him reblog posts shitting on sex repulsed people and some about BPD too. It wasn't hard to figure out why he changed so drastically.

I got really angry that day and accidentally sent a message to one of his "proship" mutuals how he really used to be. That guy saw my message, then blocked me, then my moot also blocked me without a word. I have regrets but I don't know what to do. Am I wrong for wanting him to not be friends with incest shippers? I miss him and I don't think he shipped them but he still joked about shipping them and being annoying. The last fandom harassed me a lot over not liking brother brother incest so I only have bad feelings. I don't think incrst shipping should be banned or anything extreme I just think they should have a separate platform so only they can see it.

[nqueso-emergency]

I wrote this because I needed to get it off my chest. But then I didn't want to put it on my own blog because I didn't want to deal with the discourse. So, I decided to send it to you in the hope you'd put it up.

I've been in many different fandoms, and I think the only fandom where I ever very actively shipped a canon couple was Torchwood. (If there are people not shipping Jack and Ianto, please never tell me.) That means, of course, there were always other LI of my ships to deal with. And somehow, no matter the fandom (NICS, Hawaii 5-0, Sherlock (mostly), Stargate, etc pp) it's always the same: If the fic takes place at a point in canon where one or more people in the desired ship are currently in a relationship usually one of two things happens: 1. The canon LI just doesn't seem to exist in the fic. 2. There is somewhere one line about "Oh, what about Character A?" "Ah, we broke up. No big deal." (And writing this, I'm kinda laughing now about the Buck/Natalia break-up between seasons 6 and 7.)

So, it's very strange and confusing to watch this part of the Buddie fandom that's so enraged about Tommy and has made hating him their whole fandom personality, who instead of doing what's always been done with LIs that were in the way of a ship created this whole subgenre on 9-1-1 fics now whose whole focus is "How do we overcome the obstacle of the unwanted LI to get our ship". (As I write this, there are 800 fics on ao3 tagged with both ships!) Where did the mentality of "ignore the LI in the way of our ship" vanish to? It was there for other LIs of Buck and Eddie in the past, why isn't it there for Tommy? Why can't a multishipper go into the Buddie tag in peace without being slapped in the face with Tommy bashing everywhere? (And why do you have to bash Buck and Eddie, too, while doing so? I know you don't recognize it, but that's what you're doing with many of those takes about the cheating. That's what you are doing every time you make Eddie into a violent caricature just so you have someone who can beat Tommy up.)

The hate against Tommy has a very different quality and edge to it than the hate for other LIs in the past, and this new genre you all created is a huge part of that.

And before anyone starts, yes there are a lot of bashing fics about the other LI. I've read a lot of them. The vast majority of those are not about finding a way to get the LI out of the way for Buddie (especially not by glorifying Buddie cheating on their LIs) They are about exploring little things of the characters people find jarring or exaggerating those things to use as a plot or plot device. (e.g. Ana's ableist take after the whole skateboard incident. Or her unprofessional behavior of flirting with a parent during parent-teacher-conference.)

As for the very worn-out mantra/whine of "Why could I peacefully hate on the female LIs in the past but aren't allowed to do the same with Tommy?" No one would bother you if you stopped pushing your hate on everyone else.

But you're trying to infiltrate every single nook with your hatred because somehow you don't understand while you're entitled to your hate about Tommy, other people are just as equally entitled to their love and appreciation of the character and the representation he provides. It's not just the Buddie tag people are bombarded with your hate in. No matter what tag — Bathena, Henren, Madney, every single character tag — you'll stumble over Tommy hate pretty fast. Because you tag them all if they matter for your post or not. (I mean, you've done that with Buddie in general for years, which also was never okay!) Or find cheap excuses to include them in your post.

People would let you wallow in your hate peacefully if you wouldn't attack anyone who didn't agree with you. Especially those gay and bi men in this fandom who are full of gratefulness and praise for the representation of their lived experiences 9-1-1 has given them through Tommy and Bucktommy. Who've been calling you out for your hateful and phobic behavior because there is no avoiding being confronted with it.

No one would bother you if you wouldn't post public lists of people you plan to bully in the future!

I guess the point of this long-ass rant is: Get in your fucking lane and let everyone else enjoy the fandom, too. Keep your hate where others can avoid it. It's not that difficult. And believing everyone has to agree with you about your hate is a huge red flag.

Perfectly said, anon 👏

"You" = bestie boos btw

[zenkindoflove]

You guys do not want to go down the road of starting to make blanket declarations that specific ships are "problematic" and "triggering". And let me explain why.

ACOTAR fandom, in my experience, is notoriously very far removed from general fandom. It's big and dispersed across many platforms that weren't created around fandoms, and so a lot of people enter it having little to no experience in other fandoms.

This discourse about what is or isn't a problematic ship and what kind of person ships a couple like that is not new. Fandoms of yesterday yore have had long fights about this and a general consensus has emerged which is anytime you start playing the morality policing game around people having fun with fictional characters, everyone loses.

Let's take this situation with Elain Archeron Week which is explicitly banning submissions for Elain with characters who are canonically known to be abusive to a romantic partner. Generally, the spirit of character weeks are to be ship neutral and importantly a concept that has emerged from prior fandom morality policing debate is the term Ship and Let Ship. Which means just because something isn't YOUR ship doesn't mean you need to come up for reasons why it isn't CORRECT to ship.

So, you think it's morally incorrect and triggering for people to see Elain paired with an abuser or a "bad guy"? That is okay for your own personal beliefs but if you start making rules around it for something that is supposed to be inclusive where do you draw the line or what that means? How about pairing Elain with the guy who runs Night Court Abu Ghraib? A role that means he actually tortures people physically and mentally to the brink that they are forced to "confess" to crimes. Is that some how morally superior to another character who emotionally abused their partner and confined them to a house?

See. That didn't feel good. Now did it? Do you actually want to get into a discussion about which wrong is morally worse than the other? Especially when it concerns a character week that is supposed to be about positivity and people having fun because they love Elain and they love the different interactions she could potentially have with characters in fanon?

And that is the entire point. When it comes to fiction, we all will be seduced by characters who have done bad things. Things that will trigger people. But, and I mean this whole heartedly, no one else is responsible for your triggers but you. You are the only one who knows what you can and cannot handle. Your Mileage May Vary. Tumblr's tag filtering system is in part for this very reason because of how fandoms use tumblr.

When you have a fandom wide event space, generally it's a bad idea to start throwing up these judgmental rules around people's character interests and shipping habits. Of course, any event runner is entitled to do what they please. But you also have to expect those who are excluded or know people who will be excluded are going to have something to say about it.

I really think the entire ACOTAR fandom could benefit from getting curious for once and actually digging into the histories of fandom, fandom lore and vocabulary, and start learning from from fandom elders. If so, we'd all be able to navigate these situations with a shared language that recognizes that the primary goal of fandom is to have fun first. And everyone's fun is going to look different and each individual is responsible for deciding what their squicks and triggers are. And the whole point of a squick is to let someone know this thing bothers me personally but I understand if it doesn't bother you. That sort of back and forth empathy across each side is how fandoms don't burn down in flames and people don't feel shame about what they like in fiction.

Now any fandom event can make whatever rules they want. But what I already see is a bunch of people (e/riels) are now actually making posts about why others who ship Elain with Tamlin are morally inferior, disgusting, perverse, and bad people. But hear me out, someone can easily think and say the same thing about you and your ship and if that is the kind of environment you'd like to fuck around in, well, aren't we all the worse off for it.

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ like father, like son

›› chapter 2 ›› nsfw 18+ ongoing multi-chapter fic!

previous chapter ♡ next chapter

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› toji fushiguro x reader ›› megumi fushiguro x reader ›› toji x reader x megumi (mfm) ›› 18+ f!reader ›› started: 12/6/23 : updated: 1/29/24 : status: ongoing

‹𝟹 summary: You and Megumi are best friends. You've known eachother for almost your whole life. His home has become your second home. As time passes and life happens, Megumi slowly develops feelings for you, even though he's unaware of it. To complicate things further, you're now living with him and his father, who has also taken a liking to you.

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: au - no powers, college au, power imbalance, pseudo-incest (they both want y/n, nothing w/ eachother), dubious consent

‹𝟹 tags: good cop bad cop, fluff, smut, angst, toji has a big dick, dilf toji, toji is his own warning, toji tries to be a good parent, toji is an asshole, toji is trying okay?, daddy dom toji, daddy kink, porn with feelings, porn with plot, friends to lovers, spit / spitting, spit kink, spit as lube, breeding, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, double vaginal pen, double pen, anal, making out, making love, love triangles, praise kink, degradation, light masochism, light sadism, emotional sex, cuckolding, jealousy, jealousy kink, smoking, smoking kink, emotional manipulation, manipulation, polyamory?, father and son share you, protective megumi fushiguro, megumi needs a hug, megumi has a big dick, aged up characters, dead dove: do not eat, finger sucking, large cock, cum swallowing, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, under desk blow jobs, fingerfucking, face sitting, face riding, 69, mutual masturbation, threesome mfm, lots of smut, loss of virginity

‹𝟹 notes: formatting next chapter for tumblr! there are currently 4 posted on ao3. i have the 5th in the works! it gets spicy!

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

Chapter 2: Intimacy and Exposure

--

By mid afternoon, you and Megumi are both exhausted with your full course load. You both major in biology, no emphasis right now. Megumi loves animals, so he will probably pursue something veterinary later. As for you, you’re undecided. You chose biology because it’s very general and broad, and also so you could be with Megumi more. You would never tell him that, though. You just say “idk maybe some science-y crap” and shrug it off.

You weren’t able to get lunch, so you both decide to visit a coffee shop after your last class of the day. A snack and some caffeine would help get you through for a while until you decide what you want to eat that night.

Megumi orders his usual black cold brew and muffin. The barista asks how to spell his name, and giggles? Is she flirting with him?

“That’s a cute name…” She says as she writes it down on his cup. “And for you…?” She barely glances at you.

You’re not sure how you feel in that moment. Was she flirting with Gumi? Am I jealous? Why is my heart racing?

“Oh I’ll just get an iced black tea and a banana bread please.” You try to not show your emotions while speaking. You’re not sure why you feel this way though.

You hope and pray to whoever is out there, any deity listening, that Megumi would not see you blushing and jealous.

You think you’re in the clear, he didn’t notice. He drives you home and you scroll your phone, acting like everything is normal. In reality, you’re shaking.

--

Sitting around the table, you both have your laptops and books out in front of you. It’s been a couple hours of studying, and you’re ready to take a break.

“Gumi, can we take a break and watch something? If I read the word bacteria one more time I’m going to go insane.” You tell him more than ask, already getting up out of your seat. You’re yawning, walking straight towards your bedroom, not even bothering to wait up for him. You already know he will follow.

Your room is hyperfeminine, plushies everywhere, cute shit everywhere. But you also have a mix of other stuff, like your consoles and gaming setup (that Megumi helped you get), a bass guitar that you’ve barely touched, piles of books you haven’t sorted yet.

You turn the tv on, hopping onto your bed. Megumi follows and lies next to you. You’re already aware of his presence and he isn’t even touching you.

“What do you wanna watch, Gumi?” You ask as you scroll through different apps.

“Whatever you want, you have better taste in movies and shows.” He doesn’t really care, he just savors the opportunity to be close to you. He lies behind you, almost touching but not quite. He’s close enough to feel the tickle of your hair. He feels weird thinking that your hair smells nice.

You choose some random comedy show, not caring to pay any attention. You just wanted a chance to rest and turn your brain off for a while.

Megumi moves a little close, resting his hand on the side of your abdomen. This isn’t the first time you’ve been close to Megumi, you both used to cuddle under the same blanket on cold nights or huddle under one when playing games as kids. But for some reason, now it feels different. Maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware? It has to be that, right?

Your heart beats faster, your skin feeling warm to the touch with every movement he makes. Does he notice? Is he aware of these things too? Am I overthinking things?

An hour passes by, but it feels like an eternity. You’re so hyperaware that every second feels like 20 minutes have passed. He hasn’t done more than gently caress the side of your body. He doesn’t seem to be making any advances. So why is this so painful to endure? Why does a simple touch make your body feel hot, with something pooling in between your legs?

Megumi is aware. You think he isn’t, but he can tell. Your breathing is irregular, your pulse is uneven, your skin is hot. He notices, and it drives him insane. But he’s respectful, he wouldn’t try anything. You are basically siblings with how long you’ve known eachother and lived together.

It’s getting hard to breathe. Even the lightest touch sends jolts through your body. You turn around to meet his gaze, with a look he’s never seen before. Your face is red, you’re struggling to breathe, while looking into his eyes like you know his secret. He’s flushing too, starting to sweat, feeling heat spread through his body. Your eyes are intoxicating to Megumi.

He looks at your eyes, then your panting lips, and back to your eyes again. He’s thinking of everything he wants to do to you, he doesn’t care if it’s wrong.

He touches your cheek, caressing you gently. Your breath hitches as he’s so close to you. He runs his fingers down your neck, before he pushes you to your back. It’s not forceful by any means, but mostly surprising.

He’s on top of you, pinning your arms to your pink bedsheets as he leans down towards you.

“Y/N…” he breathlessly speaks, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

You definitely do not want it to stop. You’re staring up at him with your doe eyes, unable to control your breathing. He leans in closer, his face not even an inch away from yours.

His lips crash into yours. You’re surprised, you didn’t think he would be so intense, and this good at kissing. He’s biting your lip, trying to elicit little yelps and mewls from you. He’s kissing you so roughly, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. Megumi is still on top of you, pressing his body against yours.

You can feel his heartbeat, his hot skin, his bulge against your body. You don’t know why, but you lift your hips and legs up a bit to angle yourself better against his body. Feeling him so close, pressing into you was making you feel almost drunk.

He releases one of his hands from pinning yours so he can caress your cheek a bit more. His hand travels down your neck again, moving towards your chest, before eventually resting at the bottom hem of your shirt.

He’s giving you sloppy kisses, before he momentarily stops to ask you a question. “Y/N, can I?” he asks while gentle tugging on your shirt.

You giggle. He’s too damn cute. You nod your head yes and he releases your other hand.

You pull your shirt above your head, leaving your bralette on.

He looks down at your flushed frame, no longer hidden behind some random band t-shirt. The moment you take your shirt off, he’s harder than ever before. You feel him poking into you a bit.

He kisses you with more passion this time, grinding his bulge into your clothed cunt. He’s grunting and making little moans in between kisses.

He lifts his head a bit to look at you and moves his hand over your bralette. He admires the intricate lace detail, thinking it suits you perfectly. He licks his lips. You know he wants to desperately feel what’s under, but you decide to tease him a bit.

You wrap your legs around his waist, forcing your bodies to be even closer. He grunts a bit, looking at you. You smirk and pull his head back down to make out with you.

You’re grinding against him with fervor, unrelenting and unforgiving. The feeling of him rubbing against you is oh so good, and extremely hot.

He moves his hand towards the waistband of your shorts. “May I, Y/N?” You think it’s sweet that he asked. You decide to reward him a bit.

You roll him over and push him against the mattress. You quickly get up and pull your shorts off, leaving your panties on. You take your bralette off. He’s watching you like a starved dog, savoring every second of this.

You pull his sweatpants off, leaving only his boxers on. He’s looking at you, with wide eyes, excited and surprised.

You straddle his waist, sitting on top of him. You grind against him, eliciting sounds of pleasure from his lips. You lean towards him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, before leaving a trail down his neck. You suck on his skin, giving him small and faint lovebites. He looks so cute.

You have a suddenly devious idea. “Megumi, can I try something?”

He instantly nods yes; he wants you to do anything and everything with him.

“Lay down then, please. I want to try something I saw online once….” You say as you move towards his head. You’re hovering above him now. He’s directly at eyelevel with your clothed pussy, and he feels his boxers get tighter the closer you get.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, please <3.” You hum as you pull your panties aside and lower yourself onto his face.

He can feel your drenched cunt against his mouth and instinctually starts getting at it. Licking and sucking like it was his last supper. Megumi couldn’t really breathe, but he didn’t care. He could die right now and have no regrets. He would die a happy man.

You moan as he’s sucking and flicking between your folds. The noises you make drive him even more insane, he thinks he could cum right then with how much of a turn on it is.

You lift yourself up, giving him a moment to catch his breath as you look down at him. He’s staring up at you with the eyes of an animal.

You sit back down, and he continues once more. Sucking on your clit, savoring the taste of your essence, and basically fucking the air. He’s straining against his boxers now, desperate for any touch or release.

You have another idea. You lift yourself back up and turn around, your cunt still in front of his face. You lean down towards his straining cock. You push your cunt back down on his face, and like a good boy, he continues again.

“Fuck Megumi…” You whimper out as you push against his tongue. You move your hand over his boxers, palming his cock. You notice he’s quite big and you’re a little scared.

You release his cock from his underwear and it springs up. Megumi grunts under your touch. You stroke his cock a bit, slowly. That’s not your objective however.

You lift up once more as you move to spit on top of his cock. Megumi moans again, feeling the sensation of your spit covering the head of his cock.

You sloppily kiss the tip, earning a moan and a few curses from Megumi. “Fuck… Y/N.”

You move forward to suck the tip, before letting it come out with an audible pop sound. “You have hands too, Megumi…”

Your pussy is still in front of him, and he gently moves his hand to brush over your clit, circling it. You moan as you take him back into your mouth again. You’re desperately hoping this feels good, it’s your first time doing any of it.

Megumi pushes his index finger in, noticing how wet and tight your cunt already is. He’s salivating at the thought of when he can fuck your tight hole, but he’s content with just learning your body for now. Everytime he pumps his finger in and out, he hears your sweet, angelic voice.

The way you respond to his touch is music to your ears. Your mewls and whimpers drive him crazy enough already.

You take his cock back in your mouth, trying to push more in as he fucks you with his finger. He adds another of his slender fingers inside, feeling how he’s stretching you already. You moan around his cock, and this turns Megumi on more.

He moves to push you against the bed again, pushing your body down gently. He never breaks contact with your cunt, as he starts to fingerfuck you even harder. He’s watching you squirm and moan under his touch, and he can’t get enough of it.

“Megumi… Aah!!” His touch is relentless. He wants to hear every sound you can possibly make. He finger fucks you harder, feelings your walls clamp around his fingers. He uses his other hand to rub circles around your clit. You’re nearing your climax, and he’s eager to see all of it.

You’re drunk in the pleasure that is Megumi’s skilled fingers. He brings you to the edge, watching as pleasure washes over your entire body. He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wanting to savor your juices all while never breaking eye contact with you.

Your chest is heaving, but you want to make this man feel good too. You roll over and crawl across the bed towards him. He sits atop the bed once more, spreading his legs open and smirking.

The way you’re crawling towards him is incredibly hot. He knows what you’re about to do.

You make your way to his cock, spitting on it once more and stroking it a bit. You know you can’t fit all of this beast, but you want to try your hardest.

You look up at him as you take his cock into your mouth. You make it about halfway before you feel at your limit.

“Y/N, you’re taking me so well. You’re such a good girl,” he praises you as you drool over his cock. He gently grabs your hair, not tugging but mostly just applying pressure.

Your pussy drips again at the praise as you continue to go up and down. You’re finding a rhythm to breathe and still go at a decent pace. Using your hands also helps, and whenever you fondle his balls, Megumi’s eyes roll back into his head a bit.

“Y/N.. I’m close..” He says as he bucks his hips against your mouth. “Please.. don’t stop..”

You suck harder and moan against his cock. You don’t particularly like the idea of cum in your mouth, but for Megumi, you would do it.

He covers the back of your throat with his cum, and groans as you empty his balls like an expert. “Y/N… fuck…”

You pull back up, trying to not show how displeased you are with the taste of cum.

“That was… fuck…” He lets out an exhausted sigh. “Fucking… amazing…”

You’re laying down together again, not even caring to get dressed again. The studying can wait for later, for now you want to relish this moment.

You’re not sure what this means between you two, but you’re still happy that it happened. You yawn as he snuggles around you as the big spoon, surrounding by the same fuzzy blanket and cute plushies.

He thinks it’s so cute how tired you get after that. He lays there as you fall asleep before him, memorizing and tracing every detail of your body.

Toji comes home not long after Megumi finally passes out. He doesn’t see food on the table, and goes to check your room. He sees you and Megumi, asleep under your fuzzy pink comforter.

--

‹𝟹 notes: i will have the next chapter posted here asap :D feedback is always appreciated! ao3 has all the chapters so far!

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‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

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(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[ayyyez]

"Extra fandom options" she says, as if she means anything other than haikyuu 😂 Heheh of course you may do whatever you want always but you know what I'm here for, gotta be on brand.

SO if you have any thoughts of Tanaka and Ennoshita in a romantic relationship headcannons, either solo or in a poly relationship, I'd love to read them! Fluff and/or spicy, you know I'll happily read and gush over what you write. Thanks and you look good today!

Also first.

a/n: not these sitting in my inbox forever. But hey look I’ve finally gotten around to them bc I wanna think about hq while my sinuses hate me 😂 but im doing these first for you 🫡

Tags: relationship headcanons, fluff, kissing, spooning, confessing, poly (at the end)

Characters: Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Ennoshita Chikara (with x reader and poly [seperated])

Tanaka

God this guy is the most in love sap you would ever encounter but he’s so endearing.

After the whole ‘marry me’ Kiyoko situation he decides to hold back a little when he has a crush. But this is by Tanakas standards. His holding back is he very obviously has a crush on you but isn’t asking you out (or to marry you) right away.

Being near you and gestures are his go to. It’s canon. And how he reacts depends on how you are.

If you’re the type to go out of your way to talk to him then he’s like doki doki BEST DAY EVER! but also isn’t 10/10 intense every time you talk to him. He chills a little. BUT STILL DEDICATED TO YOU.

If you’re more naive or the shy type then just a small smile from you is enough to get him through the day. Very much oh boy they looked at me I’m the best wing spiker in the world.

To get into a relationship with him one of two things need to happen.

One: you gotta give him a sign that you are into him. Flirt-Tease him about his antics (particularly the taking shirt of woo) or just give him a compliment saying you’re into him. Give him smiles more than anyone else. Then he’s just ‘go out with me PLEASE.’

Two: ask him out. He will combust and Tanaka.exe will stop working for a moment. But then he’s like OKAY. (Doesn’t wanna fuck it up and over do it. It’s steered him wrong before)

Dating this guy means waking up the luckiest person ever. You are SPOILED with attention, gestures and affection.

Man is a personal heater. Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter longs you be spooning.

A bit of a restless sleeper and sleep talker. It’s kinda funny the silly things he says. One time yelled ‘LEFFFFT’ in his sleep.

The only way to stop the wriggling is spooning him harder than you’ve spooned before. Still has a stray leg flicking every now and again but it’s better.

His first kiss has him sweating the details. Wants to make it perfect like in those manga he reads but overthinks it. He takes ages to do it if you want him to initiate.

Just kiss him honestly. The reaction is worth it. The reddest blush. Once again stops working.

Once he’s done it though his smooches are so good. Passionate boy starts soft then HES HUNGRY FOR MORE. Very intense. Kinda awkward with his tongue at first but he gets it.

He’s big on physical touch but it doesn’t have to be big. A hand held is gold to him. Cuddling is just something he lives for.

Cannot handle alcohol so you’re carrying (or organising others to) carry his ass home. Super sappy and happy drunk. ‘I love… youuuuuu��. A crier too. He just feels extra hard.

Get a couple into him though and he dances like no one’s watching. Actually not half bad until he starts stripping. Only you can stop him. He’s too obsessed with you to care about anything else he was doing.

Makeouts on the couch are BIG with him. Won’t take it further until you ask. Gotta be a gentleman. Yes even when his hands are squeezing your ass.

Ennoshita Chikara

The type to silently indulge in his crush every now and again while FIGHTING and PUSHING those feelings down.

At least, that’s how it is at first. He will be your friend first so he doesn’t want to compromise that. Just let’s pretend we don’t feel that for now shall we?

As if he could hold that back. It takes a while but it’s not long before something pushes him (he’s afraid of losing you) and he’s spilling his feelings.

He may be spilling but he’s seems like he’s confident with the monologue that comes out of his mouth. When he finishes his eyes are just wide and staring at your shoes. Evidently he was not so confident.

Grab one of this clenched fists. Pull his chin up to face you. Tell him you feel (maybe not in as many words as he did) the same way.

‘Are you sure!?’ ENNOSHITA PLEASE.

Honestly takes a while to accept it but once he does he is noticeably on top of the world.

Doesn’t announce it to the world but once people asks he’s smuggly like YEP WE ARE INDEED DATING peasants. Like damn Ennoshita.

A very caring and protective guy. Lets you do your thing while watching your back from the sidelines. Will punch people for you but won’t let that slip.

Very much a words of affirmation, tease and quality time dude.

Will go with the flow but will absolutely take charge.

His first kisses are those cute gesture ones. A kiss on the cheek, a peck on the lips or a smooch planted on the forehead.

You gotta grab this man by the cheeks and just plant one passionate kiss on him. That leaves him frozen for a second and then oop self control gone. MAKE OUT TIME.

More of an alone time physical touch guy but will break that when he’s particularly ehem into you. Or if some jerk thinks they can pick you up.

Plants one on you while maintaining eye contact with said jerk. Or places a very in your face arm around your shoulders.

Very much a big spoon guy. It just makes him feel protective. Also kind of like he’s leeching your hair warmth.

Pretty chill sleeper. Once he’s out he doesn’t move much. Sometimes you wake up facing him and he’s blowing air in your face (sleep breathing).

Kiss his nose and he’ll scrunch it in his sleep and let out a soft ‘mmm?’ But doesn’t wake up.

Tanaka and Ennoshita poly

You’re all in a relationship. Tanaka and Ennoshita included. Their crush on each other goes back a while they just never wanted to admit it.

You coming into their lives kind of makes it easier. Well eventually.

Once they realise they both have a crush on you both of them want to be the better man and let them have you. (Even if a small part inside them is screaming for the opposite).

It’s up to you to set them down and be like ‘nah uh I’ll have both’ and then also set them onto the path of realising they also like each other. It’s a very eventful week.

Ennoshita is still the big spoon. You’re the middle. Tanaka is either little or wrapped around you like a Koala. Depends on the day.

Ennoshita is the wrangler and kind of takes charge when he needs to. Tanaka is the passionate but also softy. It’s up to you whether you want to continuously go with the flow or take charge every now and again.

Just imagine sitting on the couch between them and taking turns making out. Start with Tanaka then come up for air and turn to Ennoshita. He’s a bit more intense when he’s second, handsy too. Then sit back and watch them kiss each other.

Every now and again you get home late and find them either cuddling or asleep in each others arms on the couch with some movie playing in the background.

Ennoshita brings his (grand) movie collection to the relationship. Tanaka brings his home gym. You tie it all together by hyping up both.

[lemotmo]

🤣😬 yeah they're just unlike anything I have ever seen.

Q. Still think they aren't trolling? They're so embarrassing around one another and the fact that you all find it cute and not highly unprofessional and gross tells us all we need to know about you all. As inappropriate as their behavior is they still must be so mortified by you all and that says a lot. Yes podcasts and journalists and the marketing team love them but they are not canon. But try harder to intimidate people into submission.

A. Okay I'm going to answer this and then no more from you all because you're truly a level of deranged that I have never encountered in all my years of fandom life. Seriously, intimidating? Who am I trying to intimidate? I don't care that you're offended by the fact they're friends. I don't care that you believe they're trolling you (they aren't. I promise they don't think about you all). I don't care that you all feel 'attacked' by the content we got last week. I get it. It was a bad week for you all. And you finished the bad week with confirmation that your guy wants absolutely nothing to do with you. He thinks you are just as unhinged as the rest of us do. And instead of taking the hint you all decided to double down on your crazy and go after his sister. Proving he was correct in deciding to ignore you all. Nothing the show is doing is about or for Tommy. I know it. You know it (which is why you all are spiralling all over our ask boxes). Nobody cares. And that's the real problem for you all. We don't care. Oliver doesn't care. Ryan doesn't care. The show doesn't care. You are going to get to see him in season 8 in some capacity but then he's going to be gone. I don't like a single thing about the man but I will be forever grateful that his pathetic attention seeking weeded you all out of the fandom. I have no doubt that you all will try to make things as miserable as possible once his character is shown the door, but I won't care about you then either. I'm done giving you attention. Episode 7x4 was about Eddie. Everything that came after was about how differently Eddie sees and deals with Buck compared to all the other people he has dated. And every single one of you knows it. And that is pure satisfaction on my part. You know it. You see it. You try so hard to pretend it's anything else that you end up proving all of our points even further. Everyone is done with you. And now that even includes the man you all started all of this for. Which is absolutely hilarious. Bye now. I'm going back to enjoying my show.

Thank you Nonny.

I swear, each time I get one of these asks I am more baffled. How is it gross that two actors on a TV-show genuinly like each other and like spending time together? What planet do these people live on? This is called 'friendship'. Look it up in a dictionary if you have never heard of it.

Oh and the anon asker is right, Buddie aren't canon... YET. Give them some time. They'll get there. ;)

As for Ali's answer to this truly bizarre question?

Mic drop once again! All the way!

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[thekristen999]

Fuck it Friday-- Repost

Like others, I started reminiscing about fandom around the time of the shooting and decided to re-share my story:

Trying Hard to Remember, Trying Hard To Forget

This is thorough, painful examination of the healing process using the dichotomy of Eddie not remembering the shooting while every second was burned into Buck's memory. It's a brutal look at the slog-fest of injury recovery and emotional trauma.

Snippet:

The last bandage covered most of Eddie’s right side and Buck stood there studying it, his breathing a little harsher, his fingers trembling until he shook his hand to still them. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie said, leaning his left hand against the edge of the sink. He’d have to sit down soon, but he needed to see this through.

Taking a deep breath, Buck removed the tape, revealing an eight-inch line of staples running from below Eddie’s armpit to the back of his shoulder.

Eddie bit his lips, looking at them, imagining what the ER doctors had to do, swallowing against the sudden feeling of awed horror. “I was told the surgeon only broke one rib during the procedure. They managed just to spread the others without causing additional fractures.”

Buck swallowed, his voice low. “To repair the lung?”

“Bullet nicked the upper left lobe after it damaged the thoracoacromial artery going in.” Eddie swallowed, looking at Buck in the mirror, suddenly understanding what the chaos of the scene had to be like, knowing the procedures that had to be performed to save him. “You must have gotten to the ER like in….”

“Four minutes,” Buck said with a shuddery breath. “We got there in four minutes.”

Eddie swallowed, because it hit him now, how close it’d really been, how even a minute or two later and it would have probably been too late. He’d had a hemopneumothorax and suffered a great deal of blood loss. Or that was what the doctor told him. Because anytime Eddie tried to think back to it all….

He stared at his reflection, at all the healing wounds.

“Thank you, Buck.” It sounded so damn inadequate to Eddie’s ears.

“There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Eddie stared at Buck in the mirror, at the sincerity in his eyes, the rawness there making Eddie’s heart pound. “I’m here because of you.”

..

tagging those who might be interested or have words to share:

@exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie

@cafecitoeddie @elvensorceress @elenaazra @homerforsure

@mellaithwen @spotsandsocks @operationbigskye @deedo2313

@the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @thebestbooksaround

@eddiebabygirldiaz @epicbuddieficrecs @shyaudacity @andavs

[supercalime]

A goodbye post I guess?

Hey yall, i wanted to write something about all of this as this may be the last time I talk about this show. Apologies in advance, this will be long and all over the place cause im using this little essay to get it off my chest and help me calm down my anxiety. Strap in, this will be a doozy.

First off, no matter how sad and disappointed we are, let’s please not stoop down to the level of those fans when it comes to voicing our issues with this situation. Please, let’s not harass, call people names, send them threats, etc. we can voice our opinions in an adult way, and although it fucking hurts and it makes us want to shout from the rooftops and call Murphy, Minear and Stark every name in the sun, we need to be grown ups and come out on top of it.

That being said, I want to first acknowledge how fun and cool yall are. We endured A LOT of shit since april and all that bullshit didn’t stop you from keeping the positivity going. I applaud you all for that. It has been hard. I came in contact and became friends with some really nice people here and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I loved being a part of this fandom and it physically hurts me that this feels like it was all for nothing.

Even though I feel like a fool as well, I hate to see how you are all so sad with this. This wasn’t our fault. We were not naive for believing that this storyline could’ve been great. Don’t blame yourself for being taken advantage of. Because that’s what they did. They saw the opportunity to profit from a community and took it. They are the ones in the wrong. They used us for brownie points and then tossed us away like trash the second they got what they wanted. It’s on them.

What I’m about to say now will sound hypocritical as I’m writing this at 2am while trying to cope with an anxiety attack caused by this very show, but what we can take away from this is that unfortunately, we can’t rely on tv shows for happiness. Yes, that’s a bitter pill to swallow, specially in this political climate as we were hoping for some sort of escape from the horrors of the elections. What i took away from this is that I need to (for lack of a better word) touch grass. I need hobbies, I need friends. All things that I’ve been lacking because fandom stuff is easier. I need to find stuff that makes me happy that doesn’t depend on outside factors. But also I want to make sure that if a show is all you have, that’s okay and is even more okay to feel betrayed. I was an absolute mess a few years ago when a show I adored stabbed their fans in the back, but it gets better. You still get angry remembering you were done dirty but I promise that the memories that stick are the positive ones.

I don’t wanna go on a deleting spree but I also don’t want to be reminded of this hurtful moment as the wound is still fresh, so I’m deciding to reevaluate some things offline, like I did with previous fandoms, and come back when I’m ready. I don’t think I’ll leave tumblr or never watch/talk about 911 again but I need some time and space from it so I can feel better. I don’t want to doom scroll through the tags like I did tonight. What Ryan Murphy, Tim Minear and Oliver Stark did to us was awful, but the best thing I can do is not let these three men influence my mental health. I won’t let a tv show ruin me because it’s not my fault. It’s not our fault to believe that there were half decent people in the entertainment industry that cares about the portrayal of queer individuals. They will have to sleep at night with that knowledge and deal with the consequences from the BoBs. And if these guys decide to humor the BoBs that’s their funeral. It would further show they never cared about representation and just wanted to save face after making so many people miserable for simply enjoying a canon ship. I hope they can see the consequences because I’m not even the target here. I’m hurt for all the queer men that saw themselves in buck and tommy, that even messaged the actors thanking them for their honest portrayal.

In conclusion, here’s my goodbye (for now).

Thank you so much bucktommy nation!

Yall are the best,

Love, Lety 🖤

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

The Artist and the Builder [a Joel x reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Sequel: All The Fear and the Fire of the End of the World

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/artist!reader who is his age and has arthritis and allergies.

Tags/warnings: Bit of pining, Joel is sweet and settling in, reader has joint pain and allergies, kissing, pretty tame foreplay, a little fumbling, teasing, insertion of objects into vagina that probably shouldn't be there but it's the apocalypse there ain't no dildos, vaginal orgasm, Joel is Too Big and also has Bad Knees, piv sex, cuddling, artist stuff listen I don't know how to do this anymore.

Summary: Gruff contractor Joel Miller has been in Jackson for a while and up until now, you thought he didn't like you because you're an artist and who the hell needs art in the post-apocaypse? But you are wrong.

Words: 7,139

A/N: Listen I know absolutely nothing about being an artist, sorry about that. I also don't have allergies or arthritis (although I suspect I am going down that road but let's cross that bridge when we get there). I just want Joel to be soft with someone his age whose body is falling apart. Many many thanks to @pazizz and @rambling-in-purple who helped me with this one. It started as one thing but ended something else. I really appreciate the help along the way <3

My masterlist

The ache protrudes harshly into your dreams and tears you away from sleep way before it’s time to get up. It grows stronger as you come to, and you carefully try to open your hands. Each joint is like a rusty hinge that creaks and whines when moved, and you sigh deeply as you hide your hands in opposite armpits in an attempt to warm them up. Your mother had arthritis and would tell you in a bland voice that you’d probably get it, too. She had it, her mother had it, and so on. But that seemed so far away, you had your whole life ahead of you, and you had just settled down and started to live after your crazy twenties when the outbreak happened, and survival became your only goal. Despite it all, you managed to live for twenty more years, and then got slapped with the family curse.

Closing your hands around a mug of hot tea, you walk around the living-room of your small house and inspect your various half-finished projects: paper made of plants, clay paint, painted mugs. The whole house smells like a compost, so you open a window to let in a cool breeze. You immediately feel it in your aching hands but do your best to ignore it.

Sitting down at your drawing table, you pick up the charcoal and sketch a couple of lines to the profile you’re working on. It doesn’t feel right, however, so you put down the charcoal again. Restless, you sip some tea, your foot tapping against the floor.

Eventually, you have to go to the infirmary, where Robert, Jackson’s doctor, already is treating his first patient of the day.

You like Robert, like being of use, but being a nurse isn’t what you wanted. You trained to be one, yes, and worked as one for years because it felt like a good, honest profession, and your parents insisted. At nearly 30, however, you quit, and went back to school to pursue your true calling: art. You had almost finished your education when the world went to shit, and your passion no longer counted for anything. For the past twenty years, you’ve thrown yourself after art supplies like other people after food, but even paper is becoming harder to come by. Hence your experiments using plants.

“Your hands bothering you?” Robert asks around lunch, and you nod silently. You haven’t said anything, but he notices.

“Take the rest of the day off.”

“I’m good.”

“Just go, okay? I can’t give you anything for the pain, but I can give you the day off.”

You accept gratefully, and as you change into your normal clothes, you decide to go check at the latest construction site if there’s any sawdust to be had.

You hear the promising sound of a saw working its way through wood as you get closer to the latest house being erected, and when you reach it, Joel Miller looks up from the sawhorse and straightens his back. You think you see a grimace flash across his face, but then he carefully rearranges his features into the usual scowl.

Joel’s been in Jackson for a while now. You don’t really know much about him, except for what you’ve heard from others: that he walked across the country from Boston with the girl in search of his brother, and when the place where he was supposed to drop off the girl was destroyed, they both came back here. He seems to have settled well, and he’s handy, so he’s a welcome addition. He doesn’t really seem to understand your needs, though: when you first asked him if he could save some sawdust for your papermaking, he scoffed when he learned that you needed the paper for art. You bit back on an acid remark. Art wasn’t valued very highly in this world, but it’s what made you happy, and you didn’t care what someone like Joel fucking Miller thought.

“Hi,” you say, stopping in front of the sawhorse. “You got something for me?”

He wipes his forehead on his sleeve and nods towards the wall of the house he’s building. There are three buckets by it, and you see that two of them are filled with yellow sawdust, the third one with nettle leaves. Puzzled, you look over at him. You can’t really figure him out.

“What’s this?”

“Ellie said you were looking for nettles in the vegetable patches,” he mutters. “Passed by a bunch of them on patrol yesterday.”

You chew on your lower lip as you process the unexpected kindness.

“Thank you,” you eventually say. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Joel picks up the saw again and goes back to working on shortening the board propped on the sawhorse. The woodsy scent of sawdust fills your nostrils, and you catch a whiff of sweat from Joel, despite the cool weather.

The buckets are proving difficult to pick up. Your fingers refuse to curl around the handles, and even if the weight is more than manageable, your hands are just not having it today. You swallow hard, embarrassed by your frailty, when Joel steps up behind you.

“I’ll take those.”

Big hands close around the handles of the sawdust buckets. You pick up the nettle bucket and start to walk towards your house. Joel walks alongside you, silent and avoiding looking at you just as you are stubbornly staring in any direction but his.

“I have arthritis,” you finally tell him, naming your disease with disgust dripping from your tongue. “My hands don’t work so well some days.”

“That’s rough,” he offers. “I used to have a neighbor who had that. Sorry.”

You finally venture a glance at him. His features offer nothing of what’s going on behind those dark brown eyes.

You arrive at your house, and Joel carries in the buckets for you. You see from how his nostrils flare that he wasn’t prepared for the earthy smell of your home.

“Just put them down there,” you ask him, gesturing to him. Joel does that and is left standing in the doorway to your living-room. He looks around at your various half-finished projects, the pictures on the walls, all your attempts at creating art with whatever materials you've been able to get your aching hands on.

You pretend to busy yourself with washing your hands, but you're really watching him. You've seen this before: people who don't care about art seeing art in a whole new way for the first time. They're always slammed in the face with it, and it's a very delicate moment that shouldn't be disturbed. So you busy yourself at the sink, rinse out your cup despite it being close to clean already, warm up your hands some more with water, open the cupboards and rearrange things. Joel disappears into the living-room, his heavy, unfamiliar boots causing the floorboards to complain about every step he takes. You hear him walk around slowly, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quietly, you walk over to the doorway to sneak a peek at him.

He's standing by your desk, holding up a paper with a half-finished sketch. To your horror, the picture is of him, the one that you just can't get right because you can't figure him out, can't combine his threatening glower with the warm smile he reserves for his close ones.

You almost dash across the floor and snatch the paper from his hands before throwing it down on the desk, picture down.

"That's not finished, I mean, it's not... you weren't supposed to see it."

"It's good," Joel states simply. You glance at him as you mindlessly rearrange the sketches on your desk.

"Thanks."

His stare is piercing and hard to meet, so you cast down your eyes to a sketch of Ellie right in front of you. Joel follows your gaze and sees it.

"Can I see that?"

You bite your lower lip, pick up the sketch and hand it to him. You're happier with this one: Ellie's face is open, honest. She talks, questions, comments. You've barely heard ten words in all from Joel, and he's been around for months.

"You really captured her," he admires you. "Did she pose for this?"

"No," you shake your head, "but I've worked together with her occasionally. It's easier to draw someone when you know how they move and talk and such."

He hums in agreement as he studies the picture.

"Is that why you haven't finished my picture?" he eventually asks, catching you off guard. "Because you haven't spent time with me?"

"Probably," you shrug, and hold up your hand for him to relinquish the picture back to you. He does, and the line between his brows seems to melt away when he asks you if you'd want to finish his portrait.

"I can come by tonight after work."

You meet his soft gaze and nod.

"Yeah, okay."

///

You're in the middle of dipping your paper molds into a tub of pulp and putting them to dry when there's a knock on the door. You call out a "come in" as you wash your hands under water as hot as you can manage. Not good at staying passive, you've strained your hands all day continuing with your experiments.

Joel steps in, eyeing the room immediately before settling his nut-brown gaze on you.

"How are your hands?" he wants to know. You shrug.

"The same."

You reach for your jacket, and Joel grunts questioningly. You raise a brow at him.

"Are we going out?"

"I need fresh air."

"It does smell in here." A grin flashes by his face, almost shocking you. Was that a joke?

"Sorry," he immediately apologizes, taking your silence for chagrin. You smile wryly.

"Don't worry. It really is smelly, I just don't notice anymore."

You leave your house together and start walking slowly down the street. The evening is cold in a refreshing way, and you hide your gloved hands in your pockets, both to keep them warm and to keep them occupied. Keeping your eyes trained on some invisible spot in the distance, you try to figure out something to say. It doesn't feel like you and Joel have a lot in common, and all those old icebreakers of "where are you from" and "do you have a family" can be sensitive in this world. You opt for something you do know about him.

"Did you build houses before?"

He takes a second to answer, but finally tells you that he was indeed a contractor.

"Always good to know how to build things," you comment. Joel hums in agreement before clearing his throat.

"And you? You usually work in the infirmary."

"I was a nurse, but I didn't like it much," you tell him. "I went back to school to study art, but the breakout happened before I finished. And nobody needs art to survive. So I work as a nurse."

Joel doesn't say anything, but nods to a passer-by.

"Do you like being a contractor?" you ask. Once again, he takes a little time before presenting his answer.

"I do."

"Good, honest work, huh?"

"Something like that. And..." He hesitates, gaze flickering when you turn your head to look at him.

"It's nice to build something instead of destroying it," he finally mutters. You nod slowly.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Without hurry, you walk around Jackson three times while talking. Joel is a man of few words, but the words he does utter are well chosen and sometimes heavy with information. He talks about his former construction work but doesn't utter one word about his personal life, possible family, likely loss. His voice is warm when he talks about Ellie, the teenager he delivered across the country, only to find that the people who were supposed to take care of her were already dead and buried. There is a momentary crack in his facade when he talks about his failed mission to bring Ellie to Salt Lake City, but he quickly gathers himself, and states that that's how both ended up in Jackson. He seems happy enough with those turns of events.

You tell him about your art education, about how you ever since you were a young child have seemed to notice how light falls on objects, faces, your surroundings, and the deep-seated urge to draw the light, paint it, trace is with a brush in futile attempts to replicate the magic. The light changes everything, how the world is viewed, and you're constantly trying to capture those moments when the light renders a common kitchen utensil magical, just because the first rays of morning sunshine catch the curves and angles of it. You're not sure he understands, but he does listen.

Eventually, you stop outside your house, facing each other. Darkness has fallen and you didn't leave the porch light on, so you struggle to see his face in what little light there is to be had from the moon, and the glow from the windows of the neighboring houses.

"It was nice talking to you," you say sincerely.

"You too."

You hide your hands in the opposite armpits in an attempt to keep them warm. The cold is getting to them, even with gloves.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Joel blinks.

"You're not going to draw me?"

"It's too dark."

"Ah." You hear from his tone that he just realized that you've been talking about light this whole time. His head shifts on top of that long, strong neck, his face turns a little to the side and you catch the profile of his aquiline nose against the faint light coming from the neighbor's house.

And you know you have to try to draw him like this, half cloaked in darkness, the bridge of his nose sharp against soft light, maybe from a fire, the shadows painting dark valleys on his face with his frown, the glint of grey in his beard, a lock of hair curling by his ear.

"Maybe not," you correct yourself and step past his towards your porch. "Come on in."

You load up the fireplace, your hands only trembling slightly from the weight of the wood. Joel kneels next to you by the fireplace and takes the matches from you. A protest rests on the tip of your tongue, but the brief touch of his warm, callused hand makes you swallow it. You stand up and watch him light the fire, breathe life into the kindling, and carefully place smaller twigs on the first, small flames before rocking back to watch the fire grow. You move your weight from one foot to the other, tuck your hands into your pockets. Joel glances up at your fidgeting.

"Your hands hurtin'?"

"It's the cold," you shrug. "But it's fine, it's not that bad."

You take a step back, towards the kitchen.

"Want a cup of tea?"

"Sure. Thanks."

When you return with two mugs of steaming tea, the fire is crackling merrily. Joel rises, joints popping, and accepts one mug from you with one hand, the other suddenly taking a gentle hold of your wrist. You twitch, the tea spills over a little, but you don't pull back your hand. Slowly, Joel covers it with his big, broad palm, so much warmer than yours, and you almost instantly feel the heat spread into your aching joints.

When you search his averted gaze, he releases your hand, and clears his throat.

"Thanks for the tea," he murmurs, and you nod quickly.

"You're welcome."

You busy yourself with emptying the run-down armchair from various knick-knacks and tools, and indicate the seat for him. Carefully, as if afraid to break it, Joel sits down. You pull up the desk chair and take a piece of charcoal and a paper, propping it on your lap with a sheet of cardboard under.

"You're not going to continue with the half-finished picture?" Joel asks, sipping his tea.

"No," you shake your head. "It's not how I want to draw you."

"Waste of paper."

"I'll use it to make more. It's okay."

He grunts, and you hide your smile without knowing why you're even smiling in the first place.

"Turn your head a little towards the fireplace," you instruct, and Joel squares his shoulders, as if he's unhappy about being told what to do. However, he does as he's asked, and follows the rest of your directions easily. When you're happy with his angles, you put coal to paper, and start to sketch.

For a long time, the only sound heard is that of the fire, and the soft scratch of the coal against the coarse paper. Your sharp eyes note every hair, pore, and line on Joel's face, but you're finding it hard to transfer them to paper. After a long day, your hands are hurting bad, and the pain keeps shifting your focus away from the task at hand. Finally, you sigh deeply and turn the paper upside down.

"I'm done."

"It's finished?" Joel asks, shifting like he's sitting back and leaning forward at the same time. One brow is quirked inquisitively, while his tight jawline lets you know that he doesn't really want to see the result - but he's curious.

"No," you specify as you get up, "it's not finished. I have to start over, but it's getting late."

Your fingers can barely let go of the coal when you set it down together with the paper. You hide your knuckle in the palm of your other hand and rub it discreetly.

"You won't show me?" Joel rises from the armchair and comes up to you, putting away the cup of tea. Standing right in front of you he seems almost impossibly broad.

"Your hands hurtin'?" he asks in a low voice that vibrates along your spine. You swallow quickly.

"Just need to warm them up, it's okay, I'm used to it."

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he takes both your hands and presses them to his chest. You feel his heart beat quickly against your palm and realize that some of his body heat actually comes from him being just as nervous as you are.

Feebly, you try to pull back your hands.

"I'm getting coal on your shirt..."

"Don't care."

You bite into your lower lip, speechless as if you were fourteen and standing in front of your crush, instead of a middle-aged woman talking to...

Who is Joel to you, anyway?

"Why are you doing this?" you ask hoarsely. Joel frowns, his hands slowly letting go of yours. You keep your palms on his chest for a second longer before letting go. Bereft of the warmth, your joints feel even worse.

He doesn't seem to have an answer to give you, but his lips move like he's trying to say something to break the silence. When nothing comes out, you get impatient.

"Joel?" you prompt.

"No one's ever looked at me like you look at me," he lets out, his dark gaze locking in on you. "It's like you're staring right through my clothes. It makes me nervous. I haven't been nervous in... a very long time."

"Nervous how?" you hear yourself ask, even if your armpits have grown damp, and your heart is beating so hard he surely must hear it.

"Nervous in that way." You hear exactly what he means, all the possibilities and threats and risks summarized in that. There's something so awkwardly boyish in it that you find yourself smiling. His frown deepens when he sees it, but his lips soften.

"Joel," you ask, softly touching your aching hand to his, "do you want to kiss me?"

He immediately grabs your wrist and touches his lips to yours in a kiss that doesn't really know what it's supposed to do but wants to do it anyway. He forgot to draw breath, and instead of inhaling against your skin, he pulls back quickly when he has to breathe.

"Fuck," he mutters, "that was a shitty kiss. I'm sorry."

Your cheeks flush violently when you pull at his hand.

"You can try again?"

The offer makes him smile, finally, and he displays that dimple that you found absolutely impossible to put to paper. His closes his hand around the back of your neck, and his lips press onto yours, and he remembers how it's done, and kisses you until you're not sure your legs will carry you anymore.

///

The picture of Joel becomes secondary to your meetings. Joel, you realize very soon, courts you, like some southern Gone With the Wind-type of gentleman. He brings you whatever materials he can find when he goes on patrol - you're excused from that task due to your horse allergy - and quietly offers you his thick gloves when you're out walking together, and your hands hurt. He continues to not talk much, but you start to recognize the little things: acts of service, the way he looks out for you, how his eyes light up when he sees you. His kisses when you part.

There is only kissing. He hasn't touched you in any other way, and you haven't taken initiative to anything further. There is only a rather chaste, yet warm, kiss when he leaves your house, where you usually meet up. He drinks tea and watches you draw, or paint when you're not asking him to pose for you. You know exactly how you want to capture him but so far, your hands haven't been skilled enough, and for every hour you spend with Joel, you lay another piece of the puzzle that is Joel, and you become unsure of how to draw him.

One evening, a couple of months after that first kiss, you're enjoying the warm fire in your living-room when there is a knock on the door. Joel stands on your porch, eyes scanning you quickly as soon as you open the door.

"You weren't at the movies," he says, referring to the event that nearly everyone in Jackson went to tonight. You hear the question in the statement: Are you okay?

"It's cold," you shrug. "Not my thing. Wanna come in?"

He enters your house, and you take his coat and hang it by the door.

"How are the hands?" he asks. You rub your palms together.

"Not bad today, actually. How's your knees?"

He grins a little, knowing that you saw him carry furniture up porch steps earlier.

"Creaky, but they still carry me."

"Tea?"

"I don't want to disturb, if you wanted to be alone."

You lead the way into the living-room, and move some things away from one armchair, pulling it closer to the fireplace, next to the one you were sitting in.

"You're not disturbing, do sit down. I could work some more on your portrait."

Busying yourself with picking at pieces of charcoal, you don't pay him any attention until his footsteps bring him right behind you. One warm hand touches your waist gently, startling you into turning around to meet his sheepish face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." His warm body is so close to yours, and his smell of wood, sweat, and snow invades your nose. You inhale deeply, pretending to sigh just to get the opportunity to soak in this intoxicating, masculine smell of his.

"I got something for you." Joel holds up something wrapped in cloth, and it takes you a few moments to gather yourself.

"For me?" Carefully, you take the little package from him. "Whatever for?"

He shrugs. “Thought you might need it. It’s probably your birthday at some point, or Christmas, or whatever.”

You never were good at receiving gifts, and it's even harder now. When was the last time you even got one?

He shifts his weight; a show of nerves that doesn't match up with his calm, deep voice. You decide to put him out of his misery and unfold the cloth.

It's four paintbrushes, hand carved with thick, curved handles, and tidily shaped heads.

"Oh. Joel, these are... these are gorgeous."

You hear him exhale, like he had been holding his breath.

"You think they're any good?"

"I'm sure they are, the hairs look amazing. Where did you get these?"

"I made them."

Now you tear your eyes from the brushes. "You made them?"

"Carved them, they should be comfortable to hold, I asked the doc what's suitable for someone with arthritis... The hairs are horsehair, bound together with sheep hairs."

He has really listened to you talking about all the art supplies you miss, and your ideas of making your own.

"The hairs are washed, so hopefully they won't give you allergies," he adds quickly.

"Joel... thank you. I don't know what to say."

He chuckles a little. "Try them first. What I know about making paintbrushes can fit onto the head of a nail. You may wanna return them."

"Unlikely."

You lean forward, the brushes still in your hands between the two of you, and touch your lips to Joel's. His hands rise to gently cup your elbows as he accepts your kiss. Only when your lips grow more insistent, does his hold tighten as well, and all you can think of is him holding your tits in the same manner.

Your hands, still holding the brushes, come to his chest, and you start undoing the buttons of his flannel. Joel's lips leave yours, and when he looks at you with eyes steeped in hot molten lava, you know that it didn't come easily.

"What are you doin'?"

"What does it look like?" you smile a little shakily. Is this the beginning of a refusal? Have you misunderstood his interest in you altogether?

"I don't want you to do it just because I gave you somethin'."

"It's not because you gave me something, it's because you never took anything away."

He cups your cheek now, strokes his big thumb over your lips.

"You're beautiful. I haven't done this in a long time, and never with anyone as beautiful."

"How old do you think I am?" you laugh, amused and touched at the same time. His ever-present frown changes slightly, turning quizzical.

"I don't need to hear that I'm beautiful," you specify, hands still on his chest. "I don't care about that."

"Then what do you wanna hear?" His voice is impossibly low. Your pussy clenches, grows moist and hot.

"I want to hear you want me."

"Oh, darlin'..." he sighs, closing his eyes momentarily. "I want you like crazy. I have wanted you for a long time, but I wanted for you to decide when you'd have me."

You didn't know how much you had longed for someone who saw you as a sexual being, a woman with desires and a will of her own.

"Joel," you whisper, and he swallows the rest of your words when he crashes his lips to yours. The brushes fall from your hand when you throw your arms around his neck to bring him closer, and Joel's big arms go around your waist. He hums into your mouth when your entire front is pressed against him; a satisfied hum, like he's happy to have you here. You answer with a hum of your own and feel his lips curve in a smile.

Slowly, his hands begin to know your body, sliding over curves and dips, fingers dipping into flesh, palms caressing over your clothes. Your approach is more direct: you pull at his flannel, wanting it off him.

"There's no hurry," he admonishes you between kisses. "Unless you got somewhere you need t'be?"

You exhale in something in between a scoff and a chuckle.

"In your pants?"

"Bedroom, then?"

"It's warmer in here, where the fire is."

"Hold on."

He releases you, seemingly unwillingly, and disappears into your small bedroom, re-emerging momentarily later with your bedding. You move the armchairs away to allow for him to put everything down in front of the fireplace. Groaning, he lays down on the makeshift bed, taking your hand and pulling you down next to him. You giggle a little as you plop down, immediately receiving more kisses.

"This better?" he wants to know. Your skin knots over when his hand finds its way underneath your shirt.

"Much better."

He rolls half on top of you, hand finding your breast for a light squeeze as his knee pushes between your thighs to separate them. His cock is stiff against your hip, and you move against it, smiling into the kiss when he grunts and grabs your breast harder. You put your hand on his, pressing it down, feeling his hand disappear into your soft flesh almost painfully. Your moan gears him up, and he starts to pull your shirt upwards. Squirming out of it, you reach for his belt, huffing in annoyance when Joel sits up to take his own shirt off. You sit up as well for a better reach, and your forehead connects with his chin just as he dives back to you.

"Ouch!"

"Fuck!"

You smile sheepishly at each other, both of you more startled than hurt, and Joel gently pushes you back down.

"Maybe we should take it slow?"

"I need you, I'm done waiting."

"I know, sweetheart, but I don't want you to break my jaw."

You scoff, but his kisses make you docile. Your clothes come off, along with his, and when you're both finally naked, skin against skin, you discover that you're happy with going slow as well. In the light of the fire, you trace your hand along his strong muscles and soft flesh, kiss his scars from past struggles, and the newer bruises from recent altercations with logs or whatever he has attempted to lift on his own. You close your fingers around the girth of his cock - Jesus, 20-year-old you would've giggled like a maniac at the sight of it - and enjoy the sounds of surrender that you can conjure out of him.

"God, your hands feel good on me," he hisses as you slowly, while trying to remember how to do this, stroke him with both hands. You smile, suddenly struck with nerves, when you pass your thumb softly over the glistening head of his thick cock. The precum catches the flickering light from the fire, and you get lost in how light and shadow play over Joel's skin; the dark dip of his navel, the hills of his soft pecs and stomach illuminated, his cock rising proudly from a thicket of dark hairs towards the light, the fuzz of his thighs. The embossed skin of a scar reflecting the warm light. The way his skin rises in goosebumps at your touch...

"Darlin'?"

You blink, and meet his wry, amused smirk.

"You with me?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just... was looking at the light."

"How you'd paint it?" Joel seems to catch on immediately, having listened to you rambling on about The Light several evenings. Yod nod and run one finger along the length of his cock before continuing up his happy trail, swerving around his navel.

"There's so much to see on the human body, if one just knows how to look."

"Lemme try that."

Joel pulls you down and rolls you onto your back, propping himself up on one arm next to you. You blush a little as he inspects you, his hand following the dancing shadows on your chest and stomach.

"Yeah," he murmurs, "I can see it alright."

"Yeah?"

"M-hmm. Hold on."

He rolls to the other side, looking in the dusky room for something. When he returns to your side, he's holding one of the brushes he made. With a feathery touch, he touches the brush to your ribcage, right underneath one breast.

"Here's light," he mumbles, carefully tracing the brush along a rib. "Right next to the shadow of your breast."

You exhale in a soft moan as his knuckles brush up against your breast, knotting the nipple. Joel's tongue slips out to lick his lower lip before he goes on tracing the lines that only he can see on your skin.

"What are you painting, Picasso?" you ask hoarsely.

"Hush," Joel tells you curtly yet not unkindly. You smile and close your eyes, shifting a little so that you can drape your arm around his shoulder. His hot breath is on your breast, his whiskers tickle you before something warm and wet disturbing your nipple tells you he's licked it. A shiver runs through you, and you push your chest out, asking him wordlessly to do it again.

He latches on and suckles steadily, but your shout of surprised pleasure has barely died down before he releases you and continues down your stomach with the brush.

"Joel," you whine, blinking up at him, but the focus in his eyes is so intense that you don't say anything more. Instead, you watch him figure out the fundamentals of visual art: how the light changes everything, how to handle the brush, how to angle the hand. His brush may not have any paint on it, but he paints your pleasure with sounds from you: gasps, hums, a hiss when he passes over a ticklish spot. With the brush trailing through the thicket of your pubes, your legs fall open and your lower lip catches between your teeth. Your pelvis rises to meet the soft hairs, and you moan when Joel dips the brush through your slick folds. He moves the brush to your nipple, circles it to wetten it with your arousal, then ducks down to suck it into his mouth. Your back arches, your inner thighs are wet, your heartbeats echo in your pussy, and you need him to understand just how desperately you need him.

"Fuck me," you keen, "Joel, I need you to fuck me."

He hesitates, coming up to slot his mouth over yours and steal your breath away. You rub yourself against him, find his cock and tease it, make him moan just as needily as you.

"I take it you ain't a pregnancy risk?" You hear from his tight voice how close he is to snapping. Fuck, but that's hot.

"STDs are our only concern," you try to joke, but it's not funny. Before coming to Jackson, you spent years in a quarantine zone as a nurse, and the common sexually transmitted infections ran rampant. Without proper testing equipment, it was hard to tell the scale of it.

"I should be clean," he tells you, and you're too far gone to doubt him.

"Me too."

He kisses you again as he rolls on top of you, his width and weight blocking out everything else as he plunges his tongue into your mouth. Your hips rise to meet him when he leads his cock against your entrance, and you almost bite him when he starts to push into you. Your nails press into his shoulders, the fit is impossible, and Joel stops.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You okay?"

"It's big, it's been a while."

He growls and pulls out, cupping your cheek when you whine.

"Don't wanna hurt you."

"Just get me wet, Joel."

"You're plenty wet already."

"And you're hung like a goddamn moose, so get me wetter," you snap, and Joel chuckles.

"Relax, darlin'."

"I'm trying."

He kisses you again, hand between your legs, two fingers slipping through your folds and drawing out the slick to a slow circle around your clit. Sparks run up your spine and you bury your fingers in his thick, greying hair.

"You always try to cram it in before finding a girl's clit?" you mutter, but your smile shines through. Joel slips a finger inside you.

"I told you, it's been a while." He trails kisses down your neck and moves his finger inside you, seeking the right, spongy spot. You mewl and writhe, needing more but not getting it. One finger is not enough. An idea forms in your head.

"Take the brush," you ask him breathlessly. Joel stills, finger slipping out as he studies your face. You roll your eyes.

"It's not a commentary on your skills. Get over yourself."

"You were the one who were in such a such a hurry a minute ago," he teases before looking around for the brush. Finding it, he brings it to your tits, but you shake your head.

"No, use it on me."

His brow rises quizzically. You push his hand down.

"Fuck me with it, Joel."

You expect an objection, or at the very least surprise, but all you get is a strangled sound and a searing kiss. The handle, so smoothly polished, is thick and curved in a way that bears resemblance to a dildo - not that you've used one in twenty years, but the thought is there now and you have to try this out.

The handle slides in easily, filling you better than his finger but without the intensity of his cock.

"Fuck," you keen, directing your hand down to rub your clit as Joel slowly pulls out the handle before pushing it back in. "There, fuck, Joel, that's good..."

He's breathing audibly now but you don't look at him anymore, you close your eyes and let him help you find all those buttons and spots that you had almost forgotten that you had anymore. When your toes start to curl, and you moan "Faster, Joel, faster!" he complies, rough whiskers scratching the sensitive skin of your tits as he fucks you with the paintbrush that he carved with his own split-knuckle hands to spare you your aching ones.

You barely know what an orgasm feels like anymore, but there's no mistaking this one. The rise and the tightening of muscles, the holding of breath before releasing it in a choked moan, the loosening of limbs, the pounding heat of your pussy.

"Jesus, but that's beautiful," Joel sighs, gently sliding out the brush and putting it to the side before kissing your flushed forehead. "Darlin', you're killin' me."

You chuckle huskily and pass your hands over your face.

"I think it takes a lot more to kill you, Joel Miller."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

The bedding underneath you may keep the draft of the floor at bay, but offers no suspension, so when he edges into you a second time and bottoms out, it's like being split in two between a rock and a hard place. But you can take him, and you cling to his broad shoulders with breaths coming out as hissing.

"Relax," he murmurs, petting your hair as if you were a skittish animal while slowly moving in you. "Sweetheart, you can take it, you're doing it already, you're doing it so well, it feels so good..."

You keen as he spears you again, slowly but steadily, his muscles trembling from the effort of keeping himself from crushing you. Your legs wrap around his thighs, arms around his shoulders and you pull him down, you want to be crushed, you need him like this, steady like a train and sharp like a razor, his breathless kisses on your neck, the groans that may come from pleasure or discomfort from being on the floor, you have no idea, but you need him just like this.

"Come, Joel, come," you gasp into his ear, the good one, and he endures, unwavering in his effort as he digs into you, deep, thorough, devastating.

His climax is a relief and a sadness. You don't want it to end, but you also couldn't bear one more second of it.

Joel slumps to the side, gathering you into his arms as he draws a deep, shaky breath. In the faint light of the embers that are left in the fireplace, you trace the scar on his right cheek and watch his eyelids press shut more firmly before he turns his head to kiss your fingers.

The temperature in the room seems to drop as the heat dies down, and you carefully untangle yourself from Joel's firm hold to put another log on the embers. When it flares up, you return to Joel's side, now finding him watching you.

"You okay?" he asks when you pull a blanket over both of you. Making yourself comfortable, you nod with a little smile and a kiss to his lips.

"Perfect."

"That thing with the brush was... interesting."

You blush. "I don't know what happened."

"Glad it did."

"Joel, I... haven't had sex like that... at all... in decades," you blurt out. "And this was... perfect."

He hums, glances down, and to you it's glaringly obvious that he is conflicted. Your heart sinks just as he speaks up.

"It really was perfect."

"But?" You can't help yourself: there's a slight edge to your tone. Joel leans his head back a little to take a good look at you, the usual disapproving frown back on his face.

"But there was someone," he starts, "for years. And we never had this. Time and place wasn't right."

You exhale in relief. History and baggage are easy to deal with, rejection is not.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs with a little sound, forehead smoothed out.

"Was she... Ellie's mom?" you dare. Joel shakes his head, and his hand slowly passes over your back, fingers strumming the bump of your spine.

"I didn't know Ellie until a few months ago. This was... someone else. A partner. She took Ellie on, really. I was against it. And she... didn't make it."

You don't want to say that you're sorry again, but don't know what else to say, either. So you kiss him, because you want to, because you think he needs it, because there are no words. Your hand is splayed open on his cheek, his lips and mouth are dry and so are yours, but the kiss is sweet and gentle, and the things you can't find words for are carefully passed on to him. He exhales in a soft sigh onto your cheek, then tilts his chin up to kiss your forehead before burrowing his nose against your hair. It's clear to you that he wants to sleep, but you're buzzing with unexpected energy. Carefully, you slide away from his arms, smiling at his frown, and get up to tip-toe to the desk, where you pick up paper and coal. A faint blush colors your cheekbones when you feel his cum seep out of you, and you hurry back to the makeshift bed, sitting down by Joel's feet.

"C'mere," he barks, but you shake your head.

"Just stay still."

He complies with that frown of his, and you settle down, putting the piece of coal to the paper.

You know how you want to draw him now.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Stone’s Throw

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: The night Jason wakes up in the convalescent home, he’s accompanied by his favorite nurse (Nurse Kathy). Nurse Kathy follows her instincts and decides to foster him in the nearby city of Blüdhaven. Soon, her partner and roommates become Jason’s new family despite hopes that he’ll regain his memories.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Characters, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon

Additional Tags: Disabled Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Doesn’t Know Jason Todd is Alive, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Jason Todd Has a Foster Family AU, Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven, Original Asexual Characters, Original Lesbian Characters, Amnesiac Jason Todd, “Missed Him By That Much” Trope, Hurt/Comfort, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Four: Homecoming

Daniel and Kathy arrived at the house a few hours after Dodie settled in, and Kathy took a box straight to the kitchen without a word and started. “Hey, Dodie. Mom’s a little frazzled, but she’ll be okay once everything’s done,” Daniel reassured him. 

“I know. Have you seen the boy yet? Are you gonna—?” 

“No, this is all Sibyl and Mom. And I haven’t seen him. I hear he’s a bigger boy… Very strong. She’s the only person at the hospital that he likes,” Daniel replied, “I think this will help her feel good again. I was worried that she hit a wall.” 

“Mom’s struggling?” Dodie asked. 

“It’s nothing bad… She just seemed empty this past year. I could feel something shift when she met this boy—.” Kathy rushed into the living room and hugged Dodie. It nearly knocked him off balance, but he softened and settled into her embrace. 

“Hi, Mom. I missed you, too,” Dodie smiled, “How’s New Jersey’s favorite nurse?” 

“I’m all over the place, Dodie… But this feels like a nice new start. We have more space, we’re closer to you, and there’s a community garden on the roof. I’m so excited and terrified and I want you to know you can sleep here whenever you like. I—.”

“Mom, breathe. Do you need help in the kitchen?” Dodie asked. Kathy nodded, taking Dodie’s hand and leading him to the kitchen. “So, am I gonna be an older brother? Or is this just temporary?” 

“It depends. If he has a family out there, I have to help him find his way home. If it’s just him, then of course, I’d love to keep him. He’s such a doll. I think you’d like him. You used to love to visit the hospital with me. It’ll be nice to take this ride with you on Sunday,” Kathy smiled as she opened the fridge. 

“Mom, have you taken a moment to kind of—?” 

Kathy washed her hands and started cutting onions. “How is work, honey bunny? You’re working on a new subdivision, right? Cape cod style houses? ” Kathy interrupted. She stopped to look at him and smiled. “I’m always obsessed with the little shutters, but why don’t they ever install real shutters? I love real shutters. My house had real shutters when I was a little girl. Papa used to close them at night, so we wouldn’t get scared of the shadows outside.” 

“It’s going great. Maybe I could send you my palette ideas, and you could give me some input,” Dodie suggested, “And now that you live so close, maybe I could stop by, and we could do pajama nights again.” 

Kathy grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I would love that so much,” Kathy replied. 

**

SUNDAY IN BLÜDHAVEN 

Dodie sat in the car while Kathy went in. She nervously signed the discharge paperwork, holding back tears as she handed the clipboard to her supervisor. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever that afternoon as she approached Jason’s room. He was already dressed in the clothes she bought him. Kathy adjusted his glasses, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I told you I’d be here… It’s time to go home now,” Kathy whispered. Jason sat down on the bed, and Kathy shook her head. “You’re coming with me.” 

She extended a hand, and Jason took it, following her down the hall. She took him outside to the car, and Jason hesitated. “Oh, hon… This is my son, Dodie. He wanted to meet you,” Kathy explained as she gestured for Dodie to get out of the car. 

Dodie stepped outside, and he extended his hand to Jason, slowly as he examined the bruises and cuts on Jason’s face and hands. “Dodie Hines-Fletcher, pleasure to meet you,” Dodie smiled. Jason took his hand, shaking it firmly before taking Kathy’s hand again. “She’s our mom for the time being… Guess that makes us brothers.” 

Kathy swallowed hard and let Jason in the car, buckling him in as she got into the backseat. Dodie got in the driver’s seat. “Did Mom tell you about Dad?” Dodie asked. He turned around, looking past Jason and Kathy as he backed out of the parking space. Jason nodded, and his round glasses slipped to the tip of his nose. “Dad’s great. You’ll like him. He’s just as sweet as Mom.”

Jason turned to Kathy, tapping her knee as he raised his sweatshirt to show her a fist-sized bruise on his lower abdomen. Kathy took a closer look, putting pressure on it. Jason didn’t budge. “Does that hurt?” Kathy asked. Jason shook his head. “A few days ago?” Jason nodded. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore. You’re going to stay with me from now on.”

Jason lay his head on her shoulder, and Dodie smiled as he drove toward the freeway, heading toward Blüdhaven. “We’re going to Blüdhaven. Nudge Mom if you see something familiar,” Dodie stated. Jason looked out the window, his hand never straying far from Kathy. He held on, not wanting her to leave him somehow. Kathy. His Catherine. It all melded together in his mind. He couldn’t clearly remember why the name made his heart feel full and heavy or why hearing Dodie call her Mom made him want to cry. 

The sky was a sad grey as the clouds covered the son, gently breaking into a weepy drizzle. Jason touched the door, pressing his hands against the interior until his fingers found the button for the window. He rolled it down a crack, tilting his head up, and breathing in the air through his open mouth. Kathy watched the rise and fall of his chest before smiling. “It’s nice to have fresh air, huh?” Kathy giggled. “Want more?” Jason shook his head. 

He watched the cars pass by, and Kathy rubbed his back, gently watching as he enjoyed the air coming through the open sliver in the window. Jason fell asleep within fifteen minutes and the other twenty minutes were nearly silent as they passed the police station. “What do you call him? You haven’t given him a name… I know you haven’t, but I can’t call him sweetheart or hon like you do,” Dodie whispered. 

“I call him Blue Eyes sometimes, but I’m still waiting for him to tell me his name,” Kathy answered. 

They parked in Kathy’s parking spot, and Jason woke up. Kathy nudged Jason, and he stirred, looking around at the buildings. “Hi, Blue Eyes. It’s time to go inside, honey,” Kathy whispered. Jason opened his eyes and took her hand. She led him inside and up the stairs of her building before taking Jason by the shoulders. “The people inside are my friends. There are two men. One woman. The men are named Daniel and Walter. The woman is named Sibyl. They won’t hurt you. I promise.” She nodded slowly, waiting for Jason to nod along, and she smiled when he finally did.

Daniel smiled and waved, looking up from his sketchbook. 

“I’m Daniel. Would you like to take a seat? Lunch is almost ready,” Daniel asked. Jason looked at Kathy. 

“That’s Daniel. He’s Dodie’s father. You can sit with him if you like,” Kathy reassured him.

[whatevertheweather]

Hi hello. I miss y'all. That is my own fault but it's still true, and I'm writing this on saturday night and feeling maudlin about how wonderful and talented and dear this fandom is and how I never join in anymore, so I'm making my little post okay.

I'm going with Musical Chairs again because it's so far past time for that to be done. And I've said this before, but it is approaching done. And I'm gonna get into that, but it'll all be behind the scenes rambling, so it's below the cut, and for those who don't want to delve that far, here is some freshly written Penny POV.

“Ah,” Shepard smiled, “a good deed wasn’t motive enough on its own?” “Not when it’s for a stupid reason.” “What is your un-stupid reason?” “Un-stupid?” Penny repeated. She turned resolutely to her drink. “Nevermind. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” “Hey now,” Shepard said, ducking into her line of sight. “You struck me as someone who prefers being honest.” It was a job not to smile at that, but Penny put the work in.

Now for the mess.

It's a good mess I think. I have a new section in my miscellany document, tucked in between nine (9) sections of ramblings and cut scenes, and the new section is called "we got it this time boys," and I think it's right. I've written a full draft of the scene that's been holding us all back. It's there in its entirety, it just needs to be edited. And I'm so scared to reread it, because every time I think I got this scene right I come back and it's wrong. Which I've decided to be fine with, because so what!!! So what if I got 36k right and there's 5k that doesn't quite hit the way I want it to!!! The earth will keep spinning!!!

Anyway, "we got it this time boys" is 3 pages of what is technically kind of an outline for 5 pages of story, and every time I read the header it's in the voice of someone from some black-and-white hardboiled detective noir, which brings me the joy that might be the only reason I feel I've gotten it right in the first place. The outline is all written about as cohesively as it starts:

I think maybe, and gosh haven’t I said this a million times, I just need to stop trying to go that way. Stop trying to go any way. Like always “how do I get them to this moment” instead of “what would they do in this situation.” Unfortunately, the latter requires I connect with them on a level I’m not sure I can right now. But I guess let’s try. Actually let’s go for a walk, I can see the sun setting on the top of the house across the way and it’s lovely. Okay nice, it was lovely. Relaxing, refreshing. Saw a stump that looked like a beaver. Saw a cat. Thought of the opening to something I’m never going to write. So anyway,

It also sort of ends with:

Oh shit came up on an obstacle immediately. [Redacted]. This does not actually open the door for Baz to say something that can incite “[Redacted].” Fuck god okay whoops already going completely back on all I’ve decided and thinking maybe we could keep some of the new exchange I’d written, maybe he does reveal the ugh no stop I hate this. Just figure out a transition to bring in [...], what would Baz say to that other than what I’ve written him saying to that which doesn’t work for what I’m trying to do. I guess it could just be, like…he murmurs incorrigible. Or something. With a raised brow, a la baz. Sure let’s do that, however, I’ve laid down to do this and learned I’m actually quite sleepy, so let’s do it another time. Hopefully I don’t come up on another immediate problem and despair. Just remember not to start combining things and rereading things yet, okay. Please.

This would be alarming if I hadn't already gotten past this point and written the thing. So I'm going to go into editing it with the mindset that nothing substantial shall change and boohoo to me if I want it to, and once that's done we're pretty much home free.

Now tags.

Gonna dip a toe back into being melancholy and wistful about this fandom k, I really do miss it even though I'm the only one keeping me out. You're all my friends even if that is a surprise for you to hear because we haven't talked in months or maybe ever, but I love each and every one of you x

@fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy

@bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @noblecorgi @alexalexinii

@rimeswithpurple @ivelovedhimthroughworse @basiltonbutliketheherb @whogaveyoupermission @facewithoutheart

@martsonmars @iamamythologicalcreature @run-for-chamo-miles @thewholelemon

@forabeatofadrum @youarenevertooold @ileadacharmedlife @monbons

[anonymousblogforreasons]

There’s something I have to get off my chest, it’s been bugging me for weeks now.

I started watching 911 around season 5, and after season 6 I decided to restart my Tumblr because I wanted to be around mutuals (and so I missed the last drama period). Also because I wanted to see pictures, fics, gifs, etc of the show. Through Tumblr I started shipping Buddie. I would go on Tumblr almost every day, scrolling through the tags.

Season 7 rolled around and Buck got his kiss with Tommy. I watched this live (it was like 2 at night here) and I loved, LOVED, being on Tumblr and everyone being so excited.

I continued to ship both Buddie and BuckTommy and even BuddieTommy. And being around other who do the same was nice.

But now when I open Tumblr its people responding to mean anon messages, horrible posts and hate. I can’t tell you the last time I dared to open the buddie tag because the hate spewed at BuckTommy is ridiculous and it makes me sad, like, actually sad.

It makes me not want to open Tumblr anymore and last night, after finding out about the existence of some blogs (I think we all know which ones) I knew I had to write this.

I have been around a lot of fandom troubles but never, ever, anything like this. It’s a television series ya’ll, A TV SERIES! It doesn’t need to be so serious, ship and let ship.

You don’t like a character? You don’t like a ship? That’s fine! It’s fine to even say it, that’s what makes (or made..) Tumblr such a great space for fandoms.

But, hate, wishes of m*rd*r, r*pe and blatant homophobia, my gosh, how dare you? This is serious question, How Dare You?

Tumblr should be a safe platform, not being used to make people feel threatened, unsafe, scared to make posts.

I end this message with a plea, let’s go back to our happy little fandom, okay?

Let people that like something you don’t do their thing.

Ship your ship and if you want, wish for Buddie to get together, or BuckTommy to stay together. Or.. well whatever!

(Oh and don’t hassle the actors, okay, that’s just plain weird.)

(and YES, I am tagging this in both fandoms because the hate doesn’t just come from one side, even though one definitely sticks out. Also anonymous blog cause I have a fragile little heart that would be crushed by hate, sorry)