#i hated it so much for both of them just in different ways

[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb #wnba #wnba basketball

[brighttears]

The Mirror

Joel Miller x f!reader, Found Family Joel x Ellie

Summary: In Jackson, Joel and Ellie have settled down, and you’ve joined their little family. You and Ellie have bonded over poking fun at him, having no idea how much you’re really hurting his already wounded self esteem. Tommy and Maria step in, and eventually, he finds the courage to speak up for himself. 

Word count: 10k

Warnings: implied age gap, angst, mentions of Sarah, very sad Joel hates himself, is made fun of for his age and briefly weight, Ellie and you are pretty mean, brief pissed off Joel, Joel cries. Happy ending!!!

A/n: hello from my official first story back, finally finishes this request i started before i dipped out for a bit. Worked very closely with them, @anotherpedrolover to get it just right :3 This is less of an x reader and more of just playing around with Joel and his relationships, which has been super fun. Hope you guys like ~8k words of our favorite poor little meow meow suffering teehee

—

It’s become a ritual for the three of you to sit in the living room many evenings, starting with you and Joel encouraging Ellie to read more, followed by a speech by her on hypocrisy and fairness, whereafter the two of you gave in just to calm her down. It’s quite nice, though, sitting around and reading silently. 

You were the one to suggest it, once you felt like you did have room to suggest things, a few months into moving in with the two, having met them nearly a year beforehand here in Jackson. Ellie met you first, then almost literally pulled him to meet you. 

Neither he or Ellie had been that social, keeping mostly to themselves, Tommy and Maria being the only exceptions. You were different, though, that’s what Ellie said, and that’s what Joel came to see, too. He’s not exactly sure what to call that thing, the thing at your core that pulled him in. But it doesn’t matter much, because now you’re here, and he’s never loved a woman as much as he loves you.

As he glances up at you, leg hanging over the side of your chair opposite him, face focused on your book, he can’t help but smile at the spark of warmth he gets at the sight. 

Naturally, Ellie has her legs stretched out over Joel’s lap, him resting his book over them as he sits on the couch. 

She didn’t start being this affectionate until a few months into Jackson. Not all that gradually either, the first few bear hugs genuinely shocking him, but he couldn’t be more pleased with the development. He’s had to get used to affection again himself, coming both from Ellie and you. Now that you live together, he finds himself entwined with you, in one way or another, every single night, and he has found himself indulging more than he has in anything in ages. Nowadays, he eats every touch up like a stray dog. Things like this, Ellie’s lazy legs over his, makes him feel like a father again. Things like twin idling hands over every part of each other you can reach makes him feel like a husband. Nights like these, all gathered in the living room, makes it feel like you’re a family. 

However, his bladder refuses to let him soak up the moment anymore, so he breaks the peaceful silence, sliding Ellie’s legs off of his lap, “Alright, kiddo, I gotta interrupt ya for a minute.” As he gets to his feet, Joel groans automatically, nearly limping on a stiff knee for a moment as he turns around the couch and towards the hallway.

Watching him walk away, Ellie pouts, before a mischievous grin spreads across her face. “Look, look, I’m Joel.” Once she sees him looking at her, she groans, dramatically loud, pushing herself out of her seat slowly, then proceeding to walk even slower, one heavy foot at a time with her back curved and an imaginary cane in her hand. “Aauuh, my back, my knees, aaaugh,” she says with a gravelly voice, face twisted down. Immediately, you’re guffawing. Joel shakes his head as he watches, then looks down to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hint of a smile on his face. Though the impression is pretty funny, he doesn’t love the fact that it’s supposed to be of him. 

“I’m 58, not 80, asswipe.”

“Come oooon,” she laughs, “that was spot on.”

“You do groan like you just got punched in the gut every time you get up.” You chuckle. 

Despite how much he loves the sight, looking at the way you and Ellie grin and laugh with each other suddenly hits a chord in Joel. You’re laughing with each other, at him. It feels like neither of you give a damn about him in this situation at all. He’s just something to make fun. And, is that really how you see him? Senile? 

Joel shakes it off, making himself chuckle, not wanting to ruin the fun, labeling himself as overly sensitive. “Can’t even take a piss in peace.” He mumbles as he turns and walks away, leaving you and Ellie in giggles behind him. 

In the bathroom, he stares at his reflection. Gray, wrinkled, dark circles under his eyes, littered in scars. He guesses it really is the best thing, for you all to be in Jackson, because he doesn't have many more years left out there on the road. He’s lucky he hasn’t gotten himself or Ellie killed, god knows there were more than a few close calls, like when she had to shoot that kid, or had to nurse him back to health when he didn’t see that last guy coming at the university and got himself impaled. He’s too old for that. He’s too old. 

You’re much younger. It confuses him often, why’d you want to be with an old man like him, but he has decided to take what he can get at this point. You haven’t left yet, so he’ll enjoy it while he can. But how many years does he have left of that, if you do stay? With you and Ellie? 

He can barely recognize himself. When did he get this old? His joints ache in changing weather. He has to put significantly more effort into getting up, and yeah, he does groan like he just got punched whenever he does. One day, if he even gets that far, he will need a cane. He won’t even be able to go on patrols. In just a few years, he’ll be useless. He won’t be able to keep anyone safe at all. Hell, he’s probably at this point now. Slow and deaf and weak. 

At least Ellie will have you. But… eventually, you’ll have to take care of him, too.

It all becomes too much. He looks down, and turns the light off. 

—

Tonight is game night at Tommy and Maria’s, the game of choice being Monopoly, both Ellie’s favorite and least favorite, depending on whether or not she wins, though you’re all pretty competitive. She’s in the lead tonight, standing over the table to aggressively shake the dice, then, when they land in her favor, pretty much ending the game, throwing her hands up in victory with a very loud succession of yes’s. Joel, who had been right on her tail, throws his hands up with a dramatic “Aaawww,” a smile under his mock disappointment. 

“Another loss for Joel,” Ellie tells him, smiling, then bows, “thanks to yours truly.”

“That was the luck of the dice, Ellie.” Joel points out, leaning back in his chair. 

“No, that was me beating your ass. You can’t keep up with me, old man.” She smiles, throwing up more air punches. Everyone’s laughing, and Joel tries his best to, but there’s that line he hates. Tommy, however, can't miss the look under his brother's half hearted chuckle. 

“Hey, Joel, help me get some wood for the fire.” Tommy cocks his head to the back door, and the two leave you, Maria, and Ellie inside to chat and put the game back away. 

They start at the woodpile, taking a few logs to the back porch, but at the door, Tommy pauses, setting his small stack down. “Hey, Joel.” Joel places his logs down, then straightens to look at him. Tommy purses his lips, pausing. “Looks like they’re gettin’ along pretty well.”

“Yeah,” Joel looks down with a light smile. “Sure are.” 

“They sure do like to take the mick out on ya.” Joel tries to hide behind a chuckle, but Tommy sees through him like a pane of glass. “Doesn’t seem like you’re havin’ as much fun with it as they are, though.”

“Ah,” Joel waves his hand dismissively, still trying to smile, “it’s all in good fun. I don’t mind.”

Tommy sighs, stepping forward to put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, making him look at him. He draws his brows together, keeping his voice quiet, “You can be honest with me, Joel. I know it’s botherin’ you.”

Joel looks down at his feet. “You’re right I mean, I don’t love their fun bein’ at my expense, but… if they’re havin’ fun and gettin’ along, who am I to stop them?”

“Nah, Joel. It shouldn't be like that. You gotta set up some boundaries or somethin’.”

Joel shakes his head. “It’s no big deal. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care.”

Tommy sighs. “Yeah, well, I care, and I know they do, too. I know it’s hurtin’ you, and I know they would stop doin’ it they knew.”

Joel raises his gaze to look at his brother with genuine eyes. “If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

Pursing his lips, Tommy shakes his head. “You don’t look very happy.”

Brushing it off, Joel chuckles, looking down at his feet again. “Well, I’ll work on that, then.”

Tommy's expression remains the same, almost pleading. Quietly, he urges, “You should tell them, Joel.”

After a moment, Joel replies quietly, “Yeah, yeah.” 

Knowing full well that he won’t, Tommy sighs. After a pause, he sighs again, then picks the logs back up and goes back into the house. 

Joel keeps his gaze on the ground, considering his brother’s words. He imagines the conversation, the hurt and disappointment on the face of two of his favorite people, the shame he’d feel, and the resulting quiet in the house. 

Tommy has talked to him about his bad habit of putting himself last, but he has yet to understand why that’s a problem, why he would deserve it being any other way. 

Though he tries to keep it out of his mind, he thinks about it every day, how he lied to Ellie after Salt Lake City. Sometimes, when he looks at her, that’s all he sees, and he sees the same thing in the mirror. He betrayed her. And he can’t find a way to tell her. So, doesn’t he owe her his own suffering? He can repent without telling her by letting her be as mean as she wants, even though he knows she doesn’t mean to be. It's better than how she would treat him if she knew what he did. 

He feels so disconnected from her already, but he can’t stand to lose her. That’s why he did what he did in the first place, both the killing and the lying. He just can’t. 

He deserves this. He’s a liar, he's weak, he's old, he’s not fun like he used to be. He can’t keep up. So, why should he say anything? What makes him deserve to stand up for himself? Why would he deserve any respect at all? 

He just can’t lose her. Or you. Even if this is how it is from now on, being made fun of, it’s better than nothing. 

Joel takes a deep breath, picks up the thick, heavy logs, and walks back through the door, wiping the sour look on his face as he enters back into the sound of banter and laughter. 

He does pretty well, his training of keeping himself hidden away with a composed mask paying off. Still, it’s on his mind. 

It’s impulsive, really, when he poses the question casually to Ellie, “You really think I can’t keep up with you? Gettin’ too old?”

“Pff,” Ellie chuckles, elbowing him. “Don’t get me wrong, you can hold your own, but look at those gray hairs. You could be my grandpa.” To Ellie, it’s funny, but Joel’s guts twist. He laughs it off. 

He slinks to your side then, sliding his arm around your waist. You offer a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. He leans into it, but swallows hard. 

“Hey uh,” he tries with you, “Little Ellie said she thinks I could be her grandpa. Makin’ be feel like a manther.”

“Manther?” You crinkle your brow, a hint of a laugh on your lips.

“Yeah, you know,” he cocks his head, self conscious. “Like I’m uh, too old for you.”

You chuckle, pressing another kiss to his cheeks. “I like the gray.” That’s all you say before turning back to the conversation. Though you lean into his side, it doesn’t make Joel feel any closer to you. 

He is an old man. And that’s about it. 

He doesn’t deserve either of you. He’s not enough.

He has no idea what he’s doing here. 

—

It’s a slow, quiet morning in Jackson, Joel still sleepy as he sips his coffee, sitting at the breakfast bar as you pour a cup of your own across from him in the kitchen. Despite the seeming dullness of them, mornings like these are one of Joel’s favorite things. Simply peaceful, no dreading the day, he’s allowed to be only half awake. With the love of his life to share it with, and Ellie to come join you whenever she decides to pull herself out of bed—because she’s allowed to take her time, now, too. Joel looks at you, standing with your back against the counter with a mug in your hand. There’s a light smile on your face, but you’re looking at the floor, which is curious, and then you wink, but he barely has time to register it before Ellie comes jumping up from the other side of the counter, yelling “BOO!” right in his face.

“Jesus fuck—” he yells on impulse, almost flinging coffee on himself as he lurches back in his seat, eyes wide, instantly completely awake. You and Ellie immediately erupt in laughter, Ellie leaning over the counter at him with a wide grin. “Jesus, Ellie.” He sighs deeply, closing his eyes and taking a breath as he leans back in his chair. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes, old man.” Ellie giggles while you continue in your fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Joel rolls his eyes, sighing again as he leans wearily over the counter, trying to catch his bearings and calm his pulse.

Still laughing, you and Ellie high five. “That was good,” you giggle at her, then look at him as he rubs his eyes, a faint smile still on his lips. It’s hard to be in a bad mood when the two of you are laughing like this. “You’re too easy, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” He chuckles lightly, “So much for a peaceful morning. Christ, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack, Ellie.”

“Aw, you can handle it.” She replies, going around the bar to slap his shoulder, still grinning. “Besides, I know CPR.”

Joel looks at her, attitude in his voice when he asks, “Do you?” Because he knows full well that she does not know CPR.

“Yeah. It’s like that song, you know, the one that goes, being alive, being alive,”

“You mean stayin’ alive?”

“Yeah, whatever, that.”

“That’s a song, Ellie, not CPR. And you don’t even know the damn song.”

“Well… she knows CPR.” She points at you, “Right?”

You nod, an amused smile on your face, “Yes, I do.”

“Then you’ll be fiiiine.” Ellie slaps Joel’s shoulder again, and he gives her a look, brows raised.

“Well, I would prefer not to have to get CPR at all.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten used to being boo’d by me by now.”

“Boo’d?” Joel scrunches his raised brows.

“Yeah, you know, BOO.”

Joel looks at her, hiding amusement with a mask of the fuck are you talking about. Then he shakes his head, going back to his coffee. “I swear to god, you two.” He mumbles into a sip, holding in a chuckle. 

“Aw, come on, you love it.” You say with a smile. He raises his eyebrows at you, answering flatly, “Sure I do.” Which only makes you and Ellie laugh more. 

With Ellie in the kitchen, the morning is no longer quiet, now filled with banter and conversation. Joel stays mostly quiet with his coffee, observing. He really was enjoying the peacefulness, and it takes a while for his pulse to calm, but what’s important is the two of you; you’re his favorite show. He loves nothing more than to see you two happy. And you fit each other very well—you can actually keep up with her. 

You’re his favorite person, and probably Ellie’s favorite, too. The two of you are thick as thieves, and have grown to love making fun out of him. But it’s good, it’s good that you’ve bonded over it. That’s what matters. Because you two are far more important than he is. 

—

Joel is exhausted tonight, though the patrol wasn’t too much. A few Infected at the tree line, not much more, but his sleep hasn’t been the best lately. It’s starting to get chilly again, and he has been looking forward to getting home to a warm house, and to hopefully catch Ellie before she goes to bed. 

When he enters the house, he can hear familiar, faint giggling from upstairs. He smiles at it, hanging his coat on its hook by the door before starting up the steps. The quiet chatter is coming from Ellie’s room, and his smile only grows as he pushes the door open with his knuckle. 

The two of you whip your heads to him, sitting cross legged on the floor. 

“What’re you two gigglin’ about?” He asks with a smirked smile. 

“Nothing.” Is Ellie’s immediate reply, a mischievous smile plastered on her face. 

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel’s heart falls, but he keeps it to himself. “I take it I won’t get to hear about this then, huh?” He tries to keep the smile on his lips, though his chest is starting to ache. 

“Yeah, it’s just between us girls, you know.” You smile like Ellie. 

“Oh. Ok.” He clears his throat, feet shifting out of the doorway. “I guess I’ll uh, leave you two to it then.” All you do is smile at him, a dismissal of his presence, and he backs out of the doorway and leaves for his bedroom. 

As he unties his boots, Joel’s heart gets heavier and heavier. He kicks them off, changes, and slides into bed, wanting the day to be over. But his mind won’t obey, keeping him from sleep once again. 

It used to be between him and Sarah. They’d have all kinds of late night talks, granted it wasn’t a school night. He knew everything, all the teachers she liked and didn’t, every crush, why the book she was assigned for homework was stupid. And he’d talk about work, everything that was going on, the deadlines that kept getting impossibly tighter, how the apprentices were doing. 

They’d talk about where they wanted to go on vacation, what colleges Sarah was daydreaming about despite her youth, whether or they should get a dog or a cat, what it would be like if Sarah’s mom was still around. 

Everything. 

On the road, he and Ellie would talk about plenty of stuff. They got close. He remembers when they were riding to where the Fireflies were supposed to be, before he got stabbed by that bat and almost died and then Silver Lake. And then how thought everything was solved right after, and how it wasn’t, and then Salt Lake City happened. 

It’s a completely different world. From 2003, from just a couple years ago.

Now, Ellie’s here, in this big community. She’s in school. Living in a house. About as normal as one can get these days. 

But it’s not like it was when he had another young girl living with him. He misses that. He misses Ellie. 

But at least she has you. 

But he wishes it was him. At least, partly, him. 

But it’s not. 

He closes his eyes. 

—

“Joel!” Ellie cries out, violently ripping Joel out of sleep, and he’s instantly on his feet. When he hears your voice crying his name out, too, every cell in his body is in a panic, almost falling as he races down the stairs. What could have happened? Have Infected broken through the gates? Is someone attacking you? Did one, or both of you, get injured? Is he about to lose one of you? This place is supposed to be safe! 

When he finally sees you, he’s befuddled. 

You’re both smiling in the kitchen, bacon searing in a pan next to one of scrambled eggs. 

“We made breakfast!” You announce, both of you giggling. 

Joel swallows, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Are y—is everythin’ alright?”

“Yeah, we just wanted to let you know that we made breakfast.”

Once the shock has worn off, anger bubbles up. He feels it register on his face, but tries his best to reel himself in, swallowing hard. You made him breakfast. You made breakfast for all three of you. That’s a very nice thing to do. All you were doing was waking him up. You weren’t trying to hurt him. You didn’t know how it would affect him, how it would nearly make his life flash before his eyes. That’s his problem, not yours. 

“Y—don’t—just, come wake me up next time.” He states, trying to keep a hold on his sternness. 

“Jeez,” Ellie raises her brows, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. 

Joel sighs through his nose, looking at you, but all you do is shrug with a smile. He swallows. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice. “Mornin’, just us.” Tommy calls out, he and his wife smiling back at a confused Joel when he opens the door. 

“I invited them for breakfast this morning, remember?” You say as you come up beside him, a hand instinctively rubbing his back. 

“Oh, I uh,” Joel glances between you and the couple at his door, “must’ve forgot. Come on in.”

“Forgetting a lot these days,” Ellie teases as she sets plates out on the table. Her tone is teasing, but Joel can’t help the tightening of his jaw at the reminder of his failures. When he flicks his eyes back up, he’s me with Tommy’s, and he knows he’s been caught red handed by the concern in them. He switches his gaze right back to the floor, making his way to a seat at the table. 

“Wow, look at this spread,” Maria comments, smoothing the cloth napkin under the silverware over her lap, a move that only makes Joel think again, what am I doing here? Cloth napkins alone are something that hadn’t crossed his mind in just about two decades. And despite Maria’s innocent move, paired with her eventual attempt to make him feel more welcome into the community, the resentment he feels for her hasn't quite let him go. So… civilized, so proper. Better than him.

“Well, make sure you serve yourself first, Joel likes to hog bacon.” Ellie returns as the five of you settle down at the table. 

“I do not,” he counters, tone mild, though slightly wounded. 

“Do to.” She raises her brows as she spoons eggs onto her plate, “You’re gonna need to get a bigger pair of pants soon, swear.”

To his dismay, you’re chuckling when he looks at you. And when he sees the obvious concern in his brother's eyes, he decides it might be best just to keep his head down. So, he hardly says anything at all, despite Tommy’s repeated attempts to bring him into the conversation. He’s busy arguing with himself in his head, still partly angry, but feeling guilty, too. He wants to be pissed. It was a rude awakening, but it was meant to be harmless. It makes him feel like he doesn’t belong here, like his head is still stuck out there outside of the walls. But he should still be on alert, nowhere is really safe, not even Jackson. What if you were hurt? What if something had happened? He needs to be ready. And you two were being reckless, calling wolf like that. But you were just trying to call him to breakfast. It was innocent. You’re both innocent. 

And then the fact that he forgot that Tommy and Maria were coming over this morning. He almost can’t believe himself. His mind, his sharpness, clarity, and memory, that he’d relied on for survival, is he losing it? Fucking senile. Fucking weak. Fucking stupid. Selfish, just by being here.

It goes around and around like that, and in the end, he can barely finish his food. Ellie’s earlier teasing doesn’t help, either. She’s right, he has gained some weight since arriving in Jackson, but who can blame him, after being close to starving so often? Well, Ellie can, apparently. 

But she means nothing by it, right? And you’re not laughing because you agree, right? 

“Hey,” Tommy startles him out of his spiral, cocking his head towards the kitchen when Joel looks up at him, “come help me with the dishes. Least we can do for these ladies making a whole meal for all of us.” 

Nodding, Joel gets up to help gather plates and follow his brother to the kitchen. Tommy stays quiet for a few moments as he wipes the plates that Joel washes, but he knows he’s in for a lecture sooner or later. 

“Joel.” He finally says, keeping his voice low with the help of the running faucet to keep the conversation quiet. “You gotta say something.”

“About what?” Joel mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on rinsing a soapy plate. He hears his brother sigh.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s fine, Tommy.” He nearly snaps back. 

His brother turns to him, “No, it ain’t.” When Joel doesn’t look up, he sighs again. “Look at me, Joel.” Finally he does. “It’s just not right.” Tommy shakes his head, tone both with genuine concern for his brother with a lilt of anger towards you and Ellie. When Joel notices it, he straightens, almost puffing out his chest. Holding himself back from shoving his finger in Tommy’s chest, he replies sternly, “Now don’t you go blaming them for my fuckin’... sensitivity—” 

“Stop, Joel.” Tommy takes a breath, taking the last clean plate from his hands and slowly drying it as he speaks. “It just hurts me. To see them treating you like that. And I know they don’t mean it like that, and I know that they don’t know. And that's why I’m tellin’ you, you have to speak up for yourself. Please, Joel, if not for your sake, then for mine, and for theirs.” He points his finger back towards the living room. 

Joel huffs, looking back down as the faucet runs over the clean plate. “I'll deal with it.” He says eventually. 

Tommy lets out his own huff, pausing. “Alright.” He replies quietly, pausing again before making his way back into the living room. After a moment of watching him go, Joel turns back to the sink, shutting off the tap and swiping up the towel to dry off his hands. “Can’t catch a fuckin’ break.” He mumbles to himself, thinking about what a wonderful way this is to start off his day.

—

This weekend, it’s the second Miller household’s turn to host game night, and after a very loud game of Uno, the five of you have settled down in the living room for a drink—except for Ellie, that is, who, like every time a bottle is opened around her, begged for a glass and rolled her eyes when she was told, no, you cannot have a glass of whiskey on the rocks. 

The brothers are stood chatting about the latest fixer upper with their elbows on the mantle while the girls are huddled up on the couch. 

“Figure we got about a month left.” Joel concludes, and Tommy nods in agreement, and then their attention is brought to a burst of giggles. It turns the corner of Joel’s lip up, and he inquires, “What so funny over there?” 

The giggles stop, and all three of your heads switch over to his question. 

“Private,” is all Ellie says, and you have to stifle a giggle. 

Having been told that twice now, Joel’s heart falls, but irritation quickly bubbles up. Flustered, his lip twitches, and he hardens his brow. 

“Ellie,” he starts, adjusting his arm on the mantle, voice sharp like the glass in his chest, “it’s rude to have a private conversation when we’re trying to all have family time here.”

“Jesus,” Ellie rolls his eyes, only piquing Joel further, “manners!”

“Manners—“ Joel starts, ready to set fire to the entire living room, wounded and now humiliated in front of his brother and his wife, but she interrupts him, “Yeah, manners, we’re over here trying to have a private conversation which you are interrupting. Goes both ways, old man. Don’t get all mad at me cause you’re still so un-domesticated.”

Her tone isn’t serious, but her words make him feel hollow. He shifts on his feet, torn between anger and shame, then glances at Tommy. His brows are upturned, his lips a thin line. Joel’s chest tightens, now frustrated and only further embarrassed at snapping. He hasn’t done that in a while. He’s trying. He’s trying to learn how to be calm. How to breathe. How to be polite. Keep his cool. 

But his lip twitches, and his mind goes blank. 

“Ellie, knock it off.” He nearly growls. Her eyes widen, brow raised. “Woah, there,” but then you cut in, softer voice almost pleading, “She’s just being a teenager, Joel.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “I know what teenagers are like. Doesn’t mean we have to put up with the bullshit.” 

“Joel—” Tommy tries. Joel turns to him, face scrunched, “Don’t Joel, me, Tommy. Am I the only one gettin’ fed up with this shit?”

“What shit?” Ellie cuts back in, face scrunched just the same. 

Joel takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “The shit where you disrespect everyone who—” he pauses. Everyone who’s put their life on the line to put up with you, is what had tempted his tongue. Thank god his teeth had the instinct to bite his tongue when they did, because it would have been something that he didn’t mean, that he didn’t even believe. He glances around at every set of eyes turned to him, all looking like they’re bracing themselves. He falters, lets out a breath, then heads straight for the kitchen. “Fuckin’ bullshit.” Comes out under his breath.

Opening the fridge to set an ice cube that he doesn’t need into his near empty cup, he takes a breath, forcing it out through his nostrils. “The fuck is his problem?” He hears Ellie whisper from the other room, and that’s when the anger slips away to make room for the crushing guilt, and he finds himself unable to move, chest knotted and heavy.  

“Hey,” he hears quietly at his side, turning to see Maria leaning against the doorframe. 

Snapping back into reality, he closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, knowing ignoring her is unacceptable. He’s just not in the fucking mood.

“Hey.” His voice comes out gruff. 

She comes around to his side, forcing him to turn with his back towards the living room. She glances back at it, then lowers her voice. “Tommy talked to me about—“

“Course he did.” Joel grumbles, closing his eyes and swiping his hand over his forehead.

“Yeah,” Maria cuts back in, tilting her head with sharp eyes. Then, she closes them, bowing her head for a moment before coming back up with a forced, calm expression, a strategy he envies deeply. “He did,” she begins again, “because he cares. Therefore, I care. Ellie was rude. And I apologize for that.” Joel closes his eyes and shakes his head, but as soon as his mouth starts to form a rebuff, she cuts him off again. “Can you just let me finish, Joel?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, lowering her tone. “She is the one who doesn’t have manners, she’s the one who has never lived in a civilized community. Not like this. Not like the world before. Because of that, she also doesn't understand boundaries. So,” she sighs, tilting her head again, “being in the position you are, it’s your responsibility to teach her. She doesn’t know what she’s doing because she never learned. You have. You’re a good man, and a strong man.” Joel is taken aback by her words, not expecting a compliment from her, especially not paired with the earnestness in her eyes. “You deserve kindness and respect. Not to say you need to discipline her, just… let her know. How you’re feeling. That she’s hurting you.”

Joel is so tired of saying he’s fine when he isn’t so many times in the last week that he decides to just keep his mouth shut for a moment. After a moment, he nods, staring down at the dregs of gold left in his glass. 

“Thank you.” He eventually mumbles. 

“You're welcome.” She returns with a tight lipped but genuine smile. Then, she pats his arm, and walks back to the living room, announcing, “Hate to be the one to say it, but it’s bedtime.”

As they bid their goodnights, Joel is almost absent, besides the feeling of tension in the air like static whenever Ellie nears him. 

In his head, there’s shame, first and foremost—for snapping at Ellie, to have a problem that Tommy had to talk to his wife about. For not seeing what Maria saw, too wrapped up in his head to see the bigger picture; by letting her down, again.

But there’s something on his mind, too. An idea of how to fix it. Having his head grabbed and forced to look through the lens of being responsible, not just a victim, flicks a switch in his head. The first occurrence of a drive to actually talk to her about it. Now, it’s for her. He can do that. Because he’ll do anything for her. 

—

The next night, Joel pauses in front of Ellie’s door, careful to stay out of the line of light coming from her bedside lamp. He raps his knuckles softly on the door, “Hey, you got a sec?”

“Yeah,” Ellie calls back, followed by the soft thwap of a closing book, “come in.” 

His steps are hesitant, almost awkward as he makes his way to the bed, permissed to sit when she brings her legs up to fold under her. 

“Listen, baby girl,” Joel starts, eyes on the floor as memories of talks with Sarah that always start with that very phrase. “I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Mhm?” She nods, innocence in her eyes that make his gaze land straight back on the floor. 

“We just… uh, boundaries.” He attempts at purpose in his voice. “You gotta understand, when, uh, y’know, you can’t just go around teasing people all the time.”

“I don’t tease everyone, I just tease y—“

“Yeah, I know. But you can’t make that a habit, alright? It can hurt people's feelings, sometimes.” 

This is the best Joel can do, unable to openly speak on how he feels, tell her that she’s hurt him. But Ellie won’t let him off that easily, her tone softening, sounding almost like she’s just a kid, which she is, but barely ever shows. “I hurt your feelings?” 

It comes out so small, fidgeting with her fraying sleeve, and that’s what he focuses his eyes on, afraid that if he meets hers, he’ll freeze at the sight. That he’ll see guilt. But he has a purpose. He can’t let himself trip. 

The words pauses and strains in his throat a couple times before he can manage them out. “Yeah, sometimes.”

There’s a pause. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know kiddo, I,” he pauses to sigh as guilt washes through his chest, I deserve it ringing in his head, but then he thinks back to Maria’s words. Then, it hits him. Ellie also needs to learn how to speak up for herself. To know that when someone hurts her feelings, she should confront them—using her words instead of her fists—and that she shouldn’t feel sorry for doing so. “It’s alright, I know you’re not trying to be mean. And I—“ he stops himself again, fidgeting his fingers as he lets the shame pass through and out of him before he speaks again. “Sometimes, I…” he nods, like a nervous tick, eyes safely on the floor as he forces the admission. “I struggle. And I know you know that. And I’m sure it’s been hard on you, too, Jackson… it’s a big adjustment. Haven’t seen anything like this in a long, long time. Having all these people around—friendly people. Sit down meals with real portion sizes. And just… a home. And I love it, I do. But, uh, it’s just… I’m not used to… being… settled down. I’m used to runnin’. Used to fightin’. I startle easy, honey. And sure I shove food in me. And I am getting’ older… but…”

“Takes a lot to get to 58.”

He looks at her then, pausing, then nods. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”

“I know I’ve never actually said it, but… I respect you. Really.” She nods. 

After a long moment, processing and recovering from that unanticipated sentiment, Joel nods back. “Now, listen—“ he starts, leaning his elbows on his knees, “I’m not asking you to say yes sir no sir, just… cut me some slack, sometimes. Alright?” 

Pretending to think on it, Ellie rolls her eyes around the ceiling with a frown before looking back at him and nodding, a small smirk spreading across her face, making Joel’s lips tug up almost automatically. “I think I can manage that.” 

“Now look, I,” he waves his hand out, “I don’t want this to be, you know, like you can’t have fun, I like you talkin’ and messin’ around. Highlight of my day. Sometimes.” He shrugs lightly, getting a small chuckle out of her. “I just… would be nice to… be included.” He nods at her, chest tightening at the vulnerability. “Y’know?”

“Yeah. I get that. How about we just team up on your girlfriend?” She smirks. 

Joel shakes his head, chuckling. “Or maybe we’ll just team up on you.”

“Psh. As if you could cut through this thick skin of mine. Do you have any idea what kind of zoo FEDRA school was?” She laughs, brow raised. 

“And I’m sure you gave ‘em hell.”

“Well… towards the end, yeah.” 

“So you toughened up, huh? Weren’t born like this?”

“Well…” she shrugs. “Not really.” Ellie looks down, tracing spirals on her sheets. “I was real sensitive as a kid.” This makes Joel pause. He imagines her, younger, quiet, reserved, but not in a cagey way—soft. Soft enough to get picked on. He’s not quite sure what to say, but she breaks the silence. “So I get it. And I know it’s not… that bad, but… I don’t want you to think you’re anything less than my favorite person.” The edges of her lip tug up, peering up at him, and Joel’s heart aches, not in pain, but something else that he can’t quite put his finger on. For a moment, he’s frozen, but then he blinks, and retreats his gaze to the floor. “Well, that’s an honor.” He replies quietly. 

Ellie chuckles, even though it wasn’t a joke. “Well, you’re very welcome. Guess I shouldn’t call you old man anymore, so, what, just, Joel?” Her face twists up, making him chuckle at how unacceptable that seems to be. 

“Joel’s fine.” He smirks. 

“Ugh, that’s so boring. How about… cowboy? That’s not disrespectful, is it?”

Joel chuckles again, shaking his head. “No, I wouldn’t say so.” He smirks at her, “Kinda has a nice ring to it.”

“Right?” Ellie replies brightly, and the look on her face makes Joel feel like there was never anything wrong in the first place. He pauses on her smile, one rising to his lips at the sight. That’s my girl. 

After a moment of trying to memorize that smile, he sighs deeply, then pats her leg. “Alright, kiddo. Time for bed.”

“Yes, sir.” She replies, a smirk on her lips. He smirks back, rolling his eyes. 

A smile sticks to his lips as he walks back to his bedroom, relief flowing through him, and this time, after writing I love you on a sticky note to stick on your pillow, it’s not so hard to close his eyes and drift off to sleep. 

He did something, something a father does. He did right by her. Like he used to do right by Sarah. 

—

That relief didn’t even last to the morning. Instead, doubt ripped at him. Fear that he’d stepped too far, telling her that she’d hurt him. It’d been hard to meet her eyes all day, afraid to see guilt in them, but she was out and about all day anyway, avoiding him, he assumed. 

He can’t stand the thought of losing you or Ellie, but isn’t he starting to already, even if it’s just in his head? He doesn’t feel anywhere near as close to either of you as he once did. Though you still have good times together, though there’s still plenty of love, and you’re still all very much a family, he feels like he’s drifting farther and farther away from it. Like he’s starting to just be looking in through a window, putting on a mask.

More than anything, he wants to keep his family. Desperately, he wants the closeness, the unity, the love. The family. Not just the household, the family. 

He loves the two of you like he’s loved no one else, not quite like this. With the world the way it is, it’s a different breed of sacrifice than for the one he had before. And he needs the two of you to know that, how much he loves you. But he wants to feel loved, too.

With that last realization, something snaps inside Joel. 

I want to feel loved, too. He almost whispers the thought out loud, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as the tears slip out. Though he’s alone in his room, both you and Ellie are home, and he can’t let himself get caught crying. He sniffles and looks back up, staring into the dark of the night through the window, but it only reminds him of how alone he feels, fueling more tears. It almost startles him, and he shut his eyes quickly—he’s still not a cryer. He must not have realized just how much he was hurting until now, recognizing that he doesn’t feel nearly as loved as he loves. 

You deserve to feel loved, comes a ghostly voice in his head, and it sounds like Sarah, and then he sees her, peering up at him like he should know this, because there’s her face looking at him with those big brown eyes and that light smile and all the love in it, and he clenches his teeth and tightens his body, quieting his shaking sobs. 

“Fuck.” He breathes out with a hiccup. “Get your shit together.” And he does try, taking a deep breath and looking at the ceiling, but the tears keep coming, beading at his chin. 

Weakness. That’s what’s pouring from his eyes. He was weak, and that’s why Sarah died. He was weak, and that’s why Ellie ended up unconscious in that hospital in the first place. 

Too deaf and too slow. 

Even when he was two decades younger, he failed. 

All he does is let them down. 

And look at him now, crying, because he can’t, he can’t tell you the truth, because he’s a coward, and he’s weak. 

“Fuck,” heaves out of him as he presses the heels of his hands in his eyes, until it hurts, until he’s seeing stars, and his teeth hurt from the clench of his jaw. 

He deserves it. But he’s still hurting them. Everything he does is wrong, even when every instinct in him says it’s right. 

I let you down, I let you down, he tells Sarah, he tells Tommy, he tells Ellie, he tells you. 

That’s who he is. At his core, he’s a disappointment. No matter how hard he tries—

“Hey,” he hears you at the door, and quickly tries to compose himself, almost slapping his face to wipe the wetness off of it with a quick sniffle. “Hey,” he responds, glancing at you, then planting his gaze on the floor, heart starting to race, being caught red handed again. Immediately, you’re at his side on the bed, but he keeps his gaze turned away, trying but failing to be inconspicuous. But your presence alone in the moment is enough to sprout more tears from his eyes, not from guilt but just from that thing you do to him, making him feel safe enough to be honest, vulnerable. To cry. And then your thumb is on his cheek, brushing the tears away. He clears his throat, still turning away, but he knows he can’t hide now.

“What’s wrong?” Concern drips from your gentle voice, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Nothin’, I’m alright.” He clears his throat again, though shame starts to boil him, from the crying, and now the lying.

“No, you’re not.”

He sighs through his nose.

“You’re a shit lair.” You try to jest, but it’s just another knife in his chest. Back in the most gentle of tones, you sound almost like you’re begging, “Joel, tell me.”

He swallows thickly, eyes still on the floor. “I don’t know, it’s just, uh,” he tries to clear his throat again, but his face falls, brow drawing up as more tears streak his cheeks. 

“Joel, Joel,” you reply instantly, pulling his face to meet your eyes, and he watches your face fall like a ball of lead when you see his pain, then begging him in a whisper, “please, tell me what’s going on.” 

It pushes the confession out of him. “I—I don’t wanna make you feel bad, but I just, I just,” he huffs a sigh, “I just feel like the three of us, aren’t as close as we used to be. With—with Ellie, I know that we were on the road, so, we kinda had to be, and with you, ya know… I don’t know. Things have just, changed, and uh,” his voice breaks, but he tries to regain control with a shaky breath, turning his gaze to the floor. “Jackson is a good place, for Ellie, and for you, for all of us, and you and Ellie are close, and that’s good, it’s good. I don’t wanna be ungrateful, I don’t—” you, sensing his back turning on his own feelings, urge him again, voice gentle as a petal, “Joel, tell me.”

He pauses, looking back at you, then confesses, “I just feel like I’m, not who I used to be, to you two.”

You’re visibly taken aback, brow drawing up. “What do you mean?” You nearly whisper. 

He closes his eyes, lip starting to wobble. “E—Ellie talks to you, and that’s good,” he nods, “it’s good, it’s, great, but uh… she doesn't talk to me like that, and uh, I used t’, I used to have… those conversations, with Sarah” Joel’s head drops as soon as her name leaves his lips, and your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him immediately to your chest. His heavy hand slides up your side, holding you halfheartedly. There’s the sorrow and shame and pain, but feeling your body against his offers some comfort. It’s followed closely by more sorrow, now allowed, and the words continue to fall out. “An’ uh, you an’—an’ I, I dunno, it’s just, changed, an’, like I said, it’s good you’re close to Ellie, it’s my favorite thing to see, but, but I—”

Before he can finish, you bring him to face you again, cupping his cheeks with your thumbs brushing over the wet streaks, eyes full of sincerity. “I love you.” 

Joel closes his eyes, nodding again, leaning into your touch. “I know, I know you do.” He looks at you again, “An’ I love you, too, an’ I need you to know that, an’ that’s why I, I haven’t said anythin’, but I… I don’t want you to feel bad,” he shakes his head, “I—” he stops himself abruptly, sighing deeply and shaking his head again. “Nevermind. Forget it. I’m bein’ a child.” Joel stands up, on his way to retreating straight through the front door and into the cold night, but your grip on his arm surprises him. 

“Joel.” When he looks at you, you pause, expression dripping with sympathy, but the first emotion that comes out of him is disgust.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you pity me.” He answers immediately, pulling his arm away and looking at the ground. “You know I can’t stand that shit. Doesn’t even fuckin’ matter. It’s nothin’. Just… lost my… composure. It’s fine. It’s nothin’.” He goes to leave again, but is caught just the same, this time you coming to your feet to pull his arm. 

“No, it is not, Joel. You don’t get like this if it’s nothing.” You tug his arm again, trying to take his attention. When he looks at you again, he pauses at the pleading in your eyes. “Joel.” You whisper, “Tell me.”

He swallows thickly, and reluctantly comes back to sit on the bed. 

It’s another sharp battle in his mind as he does, the familiar self hatred, but now there’s the guilt of shutting down with you. There have been many conversations, and a promise made. He can’t break it. He can’t break your trust again. So, he speaks, though the words feel thorny in his throat. “I love you. I love seein’ you happy. More than anythin’ I love seein’ you and Ellie happy. You two are everythin’ to me. I want you, always. Life would be nothin’ without you, and without Ellie, and I jus’—I jus’ want you two to be happy,” his voice breaks again, “and that’s why I—I didn’t want to say anythin’, I don’t want to ruin your fun, y—you can joke around, I want you to, even if it’s at my expense I—I just kinda wish I was… included.” Pain lilts his last word. Suddenly feeling childish again, he drops his head. “I shouldn’t be whinin’.” He shakes his head. 

“Joel—”

“You’re right, anyway, I’m old, an’ fuckin’ sensitive,” the sourness of the word is obvious in his voice and on his face, “I’m weak an’ everythin’ you two say is true, I,”

“Joel—”

“It’s true, and I shouldn’t be gettin’ this worked up about jus’ some jokes, I’ve just gotten fuckin’ soft,”

“Joel—”

“I’ve jus’ been lettin’ myself go, I guess, I fuckin’ deserve it, shit, I deserve much worse, for all the shit I’ve done,”

“Joel.” Your forceful tone breaks him out of his rant. “No. You don’t, and I’m sorry—”

He hangs his head, “No, I—”

“Joel.” You move his head to look at you again, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and I should have—you’re not weak, and you don’t deserve us making fun of you. I just didn’t see it, and that’s my fault, we were being mean,” Joel tries to protest, but you speak over him, “we were, you’re just so damn good at hiding how you feel, and I just wasn’t paying attention. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be giving you such a hard time all the time. And that is not what I meant by saying you’re sensitive. That is not a bad thing, Joel.” You sigh, looking into his eyes with yours full of love. “Sensitive doesn't mean weak. It’s humanity. I love that you can be soft. And that’s not a small ask. You are not a bad person. With what the world is now, there are plenty of people who have done much worse. Joel, you still have a heart, and it’s full, and you’re giving, you’re self sacrificing, Jesus, Joel, you’ll do anything for people you love. And yeah, it gets messy, but it’s love. You have been through so much. But you still have your heart. And I love it more than anything, Joel. More than anything. I love you,” you pause to kiss his forehead, “I love you to pieces, Joel, I adore you, and I want you to know that. And I haven’t been showing that. And that’s my fault. None of this is on you, love.”

“I just want you two to be happy…” Joel whispers, looking into your eyes.

“We want you to be happy, too.”

“I just don’t wanna ruin your fun—”

Ellie’s voice interrupts, “We want you to have fun, too, Joel.” You both snap your heads to her standing in the doorway, looking almost small, fingers brushing the edge of the door she’s cracked open. 

“Ellie…” Joel hangs his head, voice dripping with shame. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

She comes almost charging in, sitting at Joel’s other side to wrap her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it immediately, turning to wrap his arms right back around her. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and he holds her tighter, sighing shakily. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

“No, I’m sorry.” She says, muffled into his shoulder. Then, she whispers, “I just didn’t know. Thought you just knew that you were the shit.” This gets a small chuckle out of him, warmth filling his chest as he holds onto her, her small arms wrapped around his shoulders. She buries her face further into the crook of his neck, and Joel sighs deeply, knowing that Ellie is the most precious thing on this planet. 

After a moment more in the embrace, they pull away slowly. Joel looks at the floor, sighing, and smooths his hand over you and Ellie’s knees. 

“I love you two more than anythin’.”

“And we love you, too.”

Joel sighs. “I know.”

“Not enough, though.” You tell him, folding your hand into his and squeezing it. “Like Ellie said, you're the fucking shit.” You smile, though there’s still the upturn between your brows and wetness in your lashes. “And you deserve to be shown that.”

Joel sighs, looking back at the floor. “I don’t want this t’… mess everything’ up, I want you guys to have your fun,”

“Oh, we can’t stop having fun.” Ellie smiles, “But it’s not fun without you.” Joel smiles back with a small chuckle, squeezing her knee. She puts her head on his shoulder and sighs. “We love you, Joel.”

“I know. An’ I love you, too.”

A silence falls, a blanket of calmness, but it feels warmer than ever. Though he broke down in front of both you and Ellie, he’s relieved that he did. Honesty is freeing. It’s all out on the table, and the only thing he got out of it was love. No anger, no shaming, but kindness, care. Love. 

As he sits, a contented smile raises to his lips. He feels the warmth of his family. He sighs. His family.

—

Coming home from his last late night shift of the week, a tired Joel stamps his snowy boots on the mat inside the door, breathing out a relieved sigh. The house has felt warmer ever since the heart-to-heart the other night.

“He’s gonna love it.” Comes your voice from upstairs, raising his curiosity, so he hangs his jacket and starts for the stairs. 

“I hope so.” Is Ellie’s quiet reply, but he can still tell it’s coming from his room. 

When he walks in, you flip your heads around, Ellie’s hands on a frame being hung on the wall across from him. 

“Hey.” He says, confused.

You turn to him with a smile, “Welcome home, Joel. Ellie has a surprise for you.” Ellie attempts to smile, but is obviously shy. She finishes hanging the large frame and steps back, eyes staying on Joel. 

Instantly, he can recognize what it is, and his breath hitches. On the wall is a pencil sketched portrait of him. Almost in shock, he walks closer. The likeness is amazing, but still with the penciled brush of her distinctive style. “Damn, Ellie.” He says quietly, trying to keep composed. “This is amazing, sweetheart.” 

“That’s what I said.” You say, a smile in your voice. “I guess she’s so used to seeing your face so much she’s pretty much memorized it.”

That hits home. 

“Thanks.” Ellie replies, still shy. He glances at her, then pulls her close to his side as he looks back at the drawing, unable to keep his eyes off of it. 

“When did you…”

“It took a few days.”

“Ellie…” tears start to well up in his eyes, so he clears his throat. “Damn.” He sniffles. 

“I’m glad you like it.” She replies, face squished against him with her arms wrapped around his middle. 

“I love, baby girl, I love it. I love it.” He kisses her head, squeezing her tighter. After another moment of staring at the piece, he looks down at her, met with a smile, and he chuckles at the remaining shyness, tickled at the idea that she should be anything other than extremely pleased with herself. This little girl is talented. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” She replies, smile widening. 

He looks back at you then, at the smile on your face, pride in Ellie, adoration at the moment he’s sharing with her. “C’mere.” He says, offering his other arm out, and you oblige almost with haste, laying your head on his shoulder with his arm around your waist. 

“It really is amazing, Ellie.” You tell her. 

“Took me a few days, and a lot of erasing, and swearing, but I think it turned out alright.”

“Alright,” Joel chuckles, “Ellie, I—” when his eyes find the ghosted outline of that scar hidden in his hairline, he can’t finish his sentence, the start of a sob catching in his throat. He sniffles and sighs, rubbing her arm. “Damn. Means the world to me, Ellie.”

“Well, you mean the world to me.”

He looks down at her again, but all she does is press her cheek into his side. He half chuckles, half sniffles again, chest full to the brim with gratitude and joy and love. The feeling of being loved. 

You both love him, and he knows it, he does, but it’s been foggy. But this gift from Ellie, knowing how hard she worked on it, and that she didn’t even need a reference, she just knows his face, is just something else. 

He can get in his head about things, you’ve helped him to realize that, but he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of getting out of it. 

But this does. He sees his graphite reflection, coming from Ellie’s loving little hands. He’s important. He means something. His purpose and meaning is love, it’s family, it’s you and Ellie and Tommy. 

And everything everyone has done to try to help him see it. Tommy’s urging, Maria’s wisdom, your care and concern, and Ellie’s work. 

Reflecting on it, the love becomes more and more clear. 

All the smiles he sees from you Ellie, her first impulse still to laze on him in the couch, the touches and kisses from you as natural as the air itself. Tommy, able to read him like a book, nearly begging him to stand up for himself, because Tommy thinks he deserves better. Maria stepping in, not to scold, but to empathize. Your immediate amends, the tugging of his arm. Pulled in by the ones he loves every day. 

Whether he thinks he deserves it or not, the most important people do. And he has it. It would be foolish to push it away. And he just doesn’t need to anymore. He has his home here. And he wants it more than anything. And he’s earned it. So he’ll take it. In Jackson, what else is there to do but live in this love?

In his graphite reflection, he sees the love that belongs to him, and feels the warmth of it at his sides. 

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us joel #the last of us joel miller #the last of us x f!reader #the last of us x female reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us ellie #the last of us ellie williams #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fluff #tlou joel #tlou joel miller #the last of us fluff #the last of us hurt/comfort #tlou hurt/comfort #joel miller tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #ellie willaims #daughter!ellie williams

[chaifootsteps]

just me or is the whole 'saying this is like fanfic is homophobia' framing kind of frustrating? like just to list out the tropes that have come up so far in HH/HB:

female character is written as an evil shrew who gets in the way of the m/m pairing

relationship that starts with rape/dubcon rewritten into true love (this one is probably more common in bad BL manga but I'm willing to bet there's some overlap)

character is the child of a mob family

portrayals of rape/sexual assault treated as titillating / used for drama

portrayals of domestic violence/abuse used mainly to get viewers to feel sorry for a character instead of making them sympathetic on their own terms

abusers/rapists being all powerful monsters solely to torture the victim as much as possible

characters are either Good or Bad and writing is heavy handed about driving this point home

writers has one character they stan and baby above all others and not only the writing but the world bends around them as they eat up more and more screentime while the actual main characters are shoved to the side

writer has one character they hate and they hate other people liking them so they derail them in the most obvious way possible

writer has one pairing they despise and go out of their way to make them seem familial to shame the fans who ship it

writer has intended pairings in mind but they just kinda happen regardless of how much work has been put in to give them real chemistry

the plotlines jump all over the place with no consideration given to the differing stakes each create or audience fatigue when too much is introduced at once/too many hanging threads are left, similar to what happens in unplanned serialized fiction. consistency and worldbuilding errors abound. conversations/events that seem like they should change the status quo kinda don't but there's so little way to tell which one is which that audiences cannot gauge the stakes and either stop being invested or just take the show as it comes since there's no point anticipating anything being done with a lot of its characters & plot points

too many characters, often some of whom don't serve much purpose but the writer is way too attached to to ever cut out (looking at you, Andrealphus & Vassago)

characters are rewritten on the fly. due to the lack of planning their arcs start and stop or get quietly dropped when the writer tires of them

pervasive attitude of misogyny - female characters are underwritten, bitches, dumb or accessories to the men. The world revolves around the (usually white) m/m pairing/s

the main premise is dropped in favor of shipping drama or character shilling

etc.

There's probably more but those are the big ones - like s1 wasn't perfect but s2 really does feel like it became fanfic of itself. I understand Viv being frustrated if it seems like a broad dismissive brush instead of specific critiques, but there's a couple of problems here:

when people give specific critiques she either misrepresents their points to frame them as bad faith (tacitly encouraging her fans to do the same), complains people keep making the same point or writes defensive threads about how people just don't get it because, for example, the show totally demonstrates Millie has qualities other than Wife and Violent

when people say something 'feels like fanfic' as far as I've seen they aren't immediately using it as shorthand for 'it has LGBT characters'. usually when they expand on their points what they're getting at is a lack of planning and a lack of experience or competency in the writer that gives the whole thing impression of being done by an amateur who's either young or still learning their craft, or both

it's the same lack of experienced hands that resulted in the opening of Hazbin being so amateurish and lacking the sense of having actual episodes until other staff writers were brought in to clean up the mess

like yeah I don't like the implication that 'fanfic=automatically bad' since I've read some good stuff myself and maybe people could be more specific; but usually this critique is coming from people who actually like fanfic, who've read a lot of it and who recognize the tropes from the worst fanfics out there in Viv's work

Viv's little "Um, actually, fanfic is good and queer and so if you use it as an insult towards my shows, you're homophobic" snit is one of the more rancid things she's said. When you lay it all out like this, it really does go to show how her stories embody all the worst, most harmful tropes bad fanfic -- and bad writing in general -- has to offer.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

[gracev0609]

Get Your Blood Pumping

Josh Kiszka X Reader

I apologize, I'm not sure who to credit for the gif, it's been in my gvf folder for forever! But thank you for your service! EDIT: @joshsindigostreak informed me that the gif is by @readyforthegarden , so thank you!!

WC: 3k+

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex, Rough Sex, BEEFY GYM JOSH

A @lipstickitty / gracev0609 collaboration.

Fic based on this request!

When Josh wasn’t on tour, the weekends were your favorite time of the week. This was mainly because in most instances, that was when the two of you had the most free time to spend together. Saturdays were usually more of an errand day, getting any running done that you hadn’t had the time for throughout the week, Target trips, coffee dates, hanging out with friends and family. Sundays were almost always reserved for the two of you- eating breakfast together, spending as long in bed as you wanted, just being with each other and recharging after the busy week.

You would usually wake up on a Sunday morning to the sun gently shining through your windows and Josh’s gentle touch easing you awake. Here lately, however, he’d been hitting the gym most mornings before the sun even rose. Sometimes you’d still be tucked away in bed fast asleep and he’d gently pull you from your slumber with coffee and breakfast after showering off the sweat from the gym, other times you’d already be awake doing some cleaning around the house or cooking breakfast for the both of you- the latter being your favorite by far.

There was no other sight quite like Josh walking into your shared home after leaving the gym, glistening with sweat, curls all in disarray from being shoved back off of his forehead. He would always shed his shirt on the drive home, hating the way the damp fabric would stick to his skin and the leather of the seats. He had a few different pairs of shorts he liked to work out in, being rather particular about the way clothes fit and moved with his body when he was active like that. Your favorite pair by far being the shortest, skimpiest ones- and the ones he wore least often. You swore it was simply to torture you, he knew how much you loved that pair of shorts on him, so he would pick and choose what days he wore them to really get you going.

Today seemed to be the day. You had awoken naturally, early in the morning and you had already brewed a pot of coffee in anticipation of his arrival. You heard his keys jingle in the door lock, and he made his way through the threshold. His light grey t shirt in his hand with numerous dark sweat spots hanging limp between his fingers. His tiny shorts hung low on his hips, the bottom hem landing only a few inches underneath his goods. Your eyes studied his form, his newly sculpted obliques framed his, thankfully, still soft stomach. Following the planes of his body you observed his pectoral muscles, now round and full. Dancing across his collarbone your sight followed his arms down to his recently sculpted biceps. Once again your eyes bounced down to his teeny tiny shorts, and more so you looked at his bulging protrusion between his legs.

“See something you like sweetheart?”

You blushed bringing your coffee mug up to your lips,masking your smirk.

“What? You're blushing like a school girl,” he makes his way over to you, caging you in his arms. Watching his muscles ripple, you reluctantly met his eyes. He leaned in and his scent infiltrated your nose. You smelled the stale cologne he applied hours ago and the unmistakable musk he acquired from his workout.

“Impressed baby?”

Raising your hand your fingers delicately traced his chest, feeling the muscles flex under your touch.

“You've gotten so…. Solid recently. Tell me Joshy, what have you been doing at the gym?”

He brushed his nose over your cheek, voice coming out low and smooth as silk, “I start with a warmup…” one of his hands moved to your throat, not squeezing, just trailing his fingers over the delicate skin. “When I wanna work out my chest, a bench press is my go to…” his breath warmed the skin of your jaw and you felt the rumble of his chest against yours as he spoke. His hand skimmed down your neck, following the trail of your collarbone to your shoulder and back again before just barely brushing against the tops of your breasts over the thin material of your worn sleep shirt. You could feel your slick threatening to drip down your thighs already and he’d barely even touched you.

“Bicep curls, and overhead bar extensions for the triceps.” His fingers started at your wrist and ran their way up the length of your arm, tracing over the muscles he named. “Lat pulldowns work your back…” both his hands traveled to the small of your back, thumbs stroking over your heated skin. “Squats, and hip thrusts…” he trailed down to grab a handful of your ass, squeezing and pulling your body impossibly further into his making you gasp. “Be patient baby, I’ll show you how much I can hip thrust.”

The smirk never left his face, clearly enjoying how easily he could get you all worked up.

He knelt down before you, thumbs stroking over both of your hips before he started peppering kisses there, slowly feeling his way down every inch of your bare thighs. His lips left a searing trail of kisses everywhere that his hands touched, every touch building the burning need inside of you. “On leg days I do lunges and calf raises.” His touch had migrated to the tops of your calves, leaving a few love bites down your thighs as he went. “There’s more, of course, but I’d hate to bore you.” He teased, hands locking around your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You giggled and squealed the whole way there, begging him not to drop you.

He tosses you onto the bed like you weighed nothing, making you squeal again. In an instant he was on top of you, blanketing his body over yours. His bare chest rubbing against yours makes your nipples ache under his brief touch.

Hot wet kisses from his lips make you moan out his name.

“What, baby?”

“I need you.”

He chuffs a laugh, his cocky smirk still plastered on his lips,” I know you do.”

You huff lifting your hips off of the bed to meet his. Gasping when you rub your sensitive core against his hardness straining in his tiny shorts.

“ ‘M so wet. Need you.”

He grinds his hips down, pushing himself to press against where you're aching.

“Yeah? Does my pretty baby wanna make a mess? Grind her beautiful cunt against me until my shorts are wet?”

You smile, teeth showing,” I think that's what you want Josh.”

“Is that so bad?”

Quickly he rolls off of you, scooting his body up the bed so he can lean in the mass of pillows. He grips his length through the tight fabric of his shorts, squeezing himself for some relief.

“Take your panties off baby. I know they're soaked and uncomfortable.”

Hooking your fingers in the cotton underwear you pull them from your hips, wincing lightly when the material sticks to you between your legs. Slowly you crawl up the bed, straddling his hips. You watch as he adjusts himself in his shorts, laying his cock straight up letting his tip peek out of the waistband. Whispering he croons,” Come on baby, grind that pretty wet pussy on me.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief once your hot aching core makes contact with his covered cock. Tentatively you rock your hips, pressing your swollen clit against his length.

Josh keeps his voice low as he pushes your bed head back, tucking the stray hairs behind your ears,” There's my good girl… I want you to grind on me until you cum okay sweetheart?”

You hum in agreement, rocking your hips against him, already losing yourself in the pleasure. Your fingers dig into his bare shoulders, your toes curling as you hump against him. Feeling him twitch as your wetness soaks his thin shorts. Josh's hands find your hips as they begin to stutter, pushing and pulling you. Suddenly the band in your tummy snaps and pleasure floods your body. Crying out as you shamelessly buck your hips against his swollen length. As you start to still he pulls your hips closer to his, pressing you completely flush against his length.

“Good girl, that's my good girl. Now get up, Daddy wants to see your mess.”

Your limbs felt weak as you clambered off of his lap settling down on the bed beside him.

His breath shudders as he spies the large wet spot sitting over his length. Hooking his fingers into his waistband he pulls his shorts off. What he does next shocks you, a flood of slick threatening to drip down onto the bed sheets below. Instead of tossing them to the floor he brings them to his face, inhaling deeply as his eyes roll back. He connects his lips to the ruined fabric, and sucks your juices off of them.

After a few moments he discards them, looking at you with an unhinged, feral look in his eyes. You knew you were in for it.

“God damn it.” He groaned out and you reveled in the sight of him, a pool of his arousal accumulated where his length rested, flushed red and twitching against his abdomen. “Get the fuck up here baby.” His words came out in a low growl, gripping your hips and pulling you up the bed to straddle his chest.

You hovered over him, a bit nervous to rest all your weight on him every time despite knowing that not only can he take it, he aches for it. “Josh, I don’t want you to suffocate!” You giggled, supporting your weight with your hands planted on each side of his head. He scoffed, letting you know once again how silly he always found it that you weren’t immediately willing to smother him, and yanked you down until you felt the delicious feeling of your dripping core meeting the wet warmth of his soft tongue.

His fingers gripped your hips so tight you knew you’d have fingerprint-shaped bruises to serve as a reminder of his animalistic need to taste you. His pointed tongue drove into your entrance, greedily lapping you up, moaning into your aching heat as your taste overwhelmed his senses. You cried out, one hand propping you up, the other gripping onto his curls for leverage.

His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking at your clit, pleasure surging through your entire body. “That’s it Joshy, such a good boy for me.” You whined, fingers tightening in his hair. He let out a deep growl into your cunt and you felt the sharp sting of his teeth nipping at your sensitive bundle of nerves making you yelp.

“Fuck Josh!”, you raised your hips from his face, sitting back onto his chest. Eyeing him he had a lazy lust filled smile on his lips, his mouth and cheeks shining with your wetness.

His voice raspy with arousal,” Wanna fuck you now. Can I baby?”

Gently you pat his messy cheek,” Of course you can lover boy.”

Once again he uses his newfound strength to flip you on your back, settling between your legs,” I'm gonna let you adjust to me, and then I'm not gonna go slow. I've been aching to fuck you for days. We've been so fucking busy.”

You giggle knowing it was all his own doing, spreading your legs wider enticing him to enter you.

His breath catches in his throat as he grasps his painfully hard cock, swiping it through your entrance.

“So pretty and pink, just for me.”

Canting his hips forward he gently plunges into you, letting your body slowly stretch to accommodate him.

He leans his head down to your chest, letting you relax around him. He squeezes his eyes closed as if the sensation of your pussy around his cock is simply too much for him to bear. Running your hands across his toned shoulders you try to ground him, easing him back to you. You feel his lungs expand and take in a deep breath as he lifts his head,” You ready for it baby?”

You smirk,”Go ahead Joshy. Wreck me.”

You watch his jaw clench as he powerfully thrusts his hips forward, already tapping against your most sensitive spots making you gasp.

“Be careful what you wish for honey.”

After a few deep thrusts, his hips harshly colliding with yours, he grasps your right leg hitching it up over his shoulder. His hands desperately grab at your stomach and your ass, gripping on for leverage as he goes impossibly deeper, pushes impossibly harder into you. In and out he pounds, your eyes rolling every time his swollen tip hits your cervix. The pain and pleasure make a delicious combination. Fluttering your eyes open you first meet the sinful image of his chest, beads of sweat rolling between the valley of his breasts. Following the shimmering trails upwards you're met with his flushed face, cheeks red and lips pink and pouty. His brows are deeply furrowed. He almost looks in pain, but you know better. A small sparkle drips down the side of his head, trailing down in front of his ear, down his cheek to drip off his chin splattering on your stomach.

The sight of him sends you spiraling, the need to have another orgasm already swirling deep in your stomach, you mumble your tongue feeling heavy as if you're drunk on him,” Josh… ‘m gonna cum.”

He curtly nods his head as if words are too much for him now, and he grips your body even tighter pulling you in to meet his punishing thrusts. It doesn't take much longer until your walls are fluttering around him and your back arches off of the mattress. A long wailing moan pairs with the gush of slick around his cock as you come undone for him.

As soon as your body stilled Josh was pulling out and manhandling you once again, maneuvering you onto all fours. You gripped onto the sheets, arching your back for him. Josh buried himself inside your walls fully in one brutal thrust, a strangled moan tearing from your chest.

He brought one arm around the front of your waist and tangled the other hand in your hair, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. The strong arm around your waist locked you in place as Josh resumed his harsh pace, bruising thrusts hitting every spot inside of you perfectly. The sounds of Josh’s hips smacking against your ass filled the air mixed with the sinful sound of his cock driving in and out of you relentlessly.

The force of his tip nudging your cervix rendered you speechless, no sounds escaping from your lips other than your ragged breathing and strained gasps. Josh, however, couldn’t keep quiet, a constant chorus of moans, groans, whimpers and cries flowing freely from his lips.

“So fucking good, baby.”

“Shit, your pussy’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.”

“You just love having my cock this deep, don’t you sweetheart? Filling up your pretty cunt so good you can’t even speak?”

You tried to respond, but with the way Josh was pounding into you, you couldn’t manage anything more than a breathy, barely audible chant of ‘yes’ as your walls constricted around his pulsing cock once more. You couldn’t find the words to let him know you were close but your body gave you away, Josh instantly knowing you were right on the edge. “That’s my girl, cum for me.” He choked out through clenched teeth, hips stuttering briefly as you vaguely registered the sensation of him twitching inside you but keeping their pace as he fucked you through your intense high. “That’s it, soak my cock. Just like that.” He growled as he felt you gush all over him again.

His hips stilled while you recovered, letting you float back down to earth before he pulled out of you again making you whimper at the empty feeling. “Get on top of me sweetie, don’t wanna cum just yet. Wanna feel you a little longer.” He cooed, helping you climb onto him taking in your bright red cheeks and fucked-out expression with pride.

Slowly you rocked your hips with what little strength you had left. Josh has utterly and thoroughly expended all of your energy.

“Hmm is my pretty girl tired?”

Nodding your head you agreed as you tried to rock your hips with more gusto.

“That just won't do sweetie, you want me to cum don't you?” He grabs a hold of your hips helping you bounce,” Hold on to me baby, gonna fuck you good.”

Before you can really register what's happening, his hips push up off the bed into a sort of bridge pose. Wildly he thrusts in and out of you, sopping wet slapping sounds fill your bedroom as he pounds into you from below. He lifts your hips up and down, meeting his thrusts pushing himself ever deeper inside of you. Your brain is thoughtless. Pleasure is the only thing you feel.

“Getting close.” He whines.

His legs shake as he slams into you for the final time, holding your hips in place as his cock swells and bursts, flooding your insides with his release.

As he settles you both back down onto the mattress he listlessly mutters,” Fuck” under his breath. You can feel his entire body trembling, the same as yours. Limply you slump over, one locked arm bracing you from landing on his chest. You're panting and sweating and your legs burn like you went to the gym.

Josh gathers your ratty hair into a makeshift bun at the base of your neck with his fist, an attempt to cool you off.

His other hand comes up, lovingly stroking your cheek,”You okay, love bug?”

Mustering up a smile you mumble,”Mmhmm, jus’ tired. That was a lot.”

Worry flashes across his face,” Too much?”

Leaning down, you nuzzle your face into the damp skin of his neck,” No, never.”

After a few beats of silence you're suddenly aware of how sweaty and slick you two are. Sitting back up in his lap, you grit your teeth as he twitches inside of you, he lets out a small whimper from the back of his throat,” Sorry… Sensitive.”

Gingerly you rise from his lap, careful not to disturb his abused flesh, and you lay down beside him.

Sighing, you say,” I'm sleepy now.”

He giggles, his fingers intertwining with yours,” You have two options. We can shower and nap. Or, we can shower and go get breakfast and coffee. Your pick.”

Bringing your hand up to your face, your index finger taps your chin pretending to be deep in thought, “ I'm thinking a nap.”

You watch as Josh's face visibly falls, clearly looking forward to breakfast.

You giggle, grasping his face between your hands,” Baby I'm joking! Let's go get breakfast.”

His eyes light up,” Crepes?”

“Sounds perfect Joshy.”

You rise from the bed making your way to your bathroom, eager to wash the mess from your bodies.

You start the water, waiting for it to heat up, Josh's large palms gently massage the tension in your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, can I wash your hair?” Josh places loving kisses to the nape of your neck, trailing down your spine.

Turning slightly in his grasp to face him,” Only if I can wash yours too.”

He smiles, teeth on full display, eyes scrunched,”Deal!”

#gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #greta van smut #josh kiszka smut #sam gvf #jake gvf #danny gvf

[vampiresbloodx]

a/n: based of the recent episode! 3x14! So might be spoilers, maybe.

As summer is just around the corner, you're older!gf!Melissa has a few or maybe more ideas on how she wants to spend her summer this year. And it's gonna be different, because now she has you. You couldn't contain your excitement as you said your goodbyes to the last kid leaving your class as you happily and practically skipped your way to Melissa's class, you know Janine has hosted a party and you two have planned to go to that. You wouldn't want to let a friend down. Melissa however, just wants to get drunk.

"here early hmm? Someone's excited" a familiar voice snaps you out of your daydream of a certain redhead who's standing in front of you right now with her hands on her hips, looking rather pleased.

"early? I'm right on time" you say with a small smile, "the last kid from my class just left with their parents."

She nods.

"and you came to see me?" She questions, you frown, confused.

"well, yes, because we're dating, I'm your girlfriend and you're my girlfriend" you say.

Melissa smiles.

"your girlfriend? And you're mine, I like the sound of that."

You shake your head, your cheeks burning as you hear her chuckle, she wraps an arm around your shoulder and you shudder from her touch.

God you've missed her.

Sure you see her all day, sure, you two work together in the same environment, sure, there's not one moment where no one can seem to catch you two apart, but you still wanna be by her side always. As much as you can.

Janine's party was definitely one you weren't expecting. Arriving with Mel you saw how easy she had her and Barbara with organising and cleaning stuff around her apartment, you found it ridiculous, laughing at them, you knew Mel wasn't the one for a messy place. Then Janine hit you with what she wanted was everyone to be involved, have fun, for you just being by Melissa all night long would do the trick, shocking, right? Janine knew you well, she wouldn't want you two seperated at all.

It was an hour or so into the party, Melissa was already tipsy, so was Barbara, and everyone else, except maybe a few people. You weren't always a fan of parties but this was for your friend and well Melissa wanted alcohol.

As of lately, Melissa had only just become more comfortable with PDA in your relationship, it wasn't that she hated it, she just didn't like people watching too much. You were hers, no one else's. You didn't know why she thought anyone would be bothered by it, when no one else seemed to care.

Then unexpectedly, you feel hands wrap around your waist and pull you in closer, you were about to cuss whoever had the dumb idea to do that but you smelled a familiar perfume and saw Melissa, you smiled, relaxed against her, she was enjoying herself, and so were you.

She began to kiss along the back of your neck, you bit down on your bottom lip to stop from being too loud, forgetting your at a friend's party, but everyone else was lost in their own world, dancing, partying, you both swayed to the music, she didn't seem to stop, nor did you want her to.

"Mel" you said, unsure if she could even hear you, you grabbed her hand, she looked at you, smiling. "Take me to yours?" You asked.

And she nodded, grabbing you as you two didn't even bother to say goodbye as she rushed you out.

You two laughed, smiling so much it hurt as you held each other.

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti imagine

[selfloverrrrrr]

Hiiiiiiiiiiii.....so a request about reader being born in a wealthy family called the (l/n)...reader was born with beauty and all..as she grew up her parents decided who she should marry and came to a agreement to get her married to Noaya..cause he was her niece son and cuase they wanted to keep the family together💀soo for her 21st birthday..they made a party for her and invited alot of people..including the gojo clan....reader is aware of the wedding and she can't say anything cause her parents are strict and evil behind closed doors...as they are greeting the guest the gojo clan enters and y/n parents calls her over to greet them...as she gets near she is met by a well looking family and also someone with blue eyes and white hair....she greeted them in a respectful way and just stood still while her parents were talking...reader had a tight long black dress on and with a slid on both sides..she looked HOT...she felt eyes on her and saw that satoru was staring at her with a smirk and eyeing her..she felt uncomfortable and excused herself...reader parents spoke about y/n marriage and satoru heard and got mad(what so ever)but he didn't show..as he heard who she is getting to marry he almost choke and excuse himself...he started searching for reader and when he found her in a room standing by the balcony..he locked the door as he entered and hold by her waist..this made reader flinch and she turned around(you can continue from here)😁💓

She's Mine~

Warning: smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

I was born in the l/n family. It was a very wealthy family. We're one of jujutsu's famous clan. But I didn't learn about curse technique. Because I can see curses but don't have any curse technique. as I grew up my parents started finding who I should marry.

After starting to find someone to marry me they came to a agreement to get me married to Noaya. Just because he was my mother's bestfriend's son?! and they wanted to keep the family together. I hated Noya from my childhood. I never liked his misogyny attitude. I told my parents that I don't want to marry him. But they forced me!

It was my 21st birthday. My parents made a party for my birthday. They invited alot of people. And yeah including the zenins! I was aware of the wedding so I can't say anything cause my parents are strict behind closed doors.

I had a tight long black dress on and with a slid on both sides. My parents were at the gate greeting people. They were greeting the guest. A few time later the Gojo clan enters. My parents were greeting them. They obey the gojo clan so much because that was the most powerful and rich clan of jujutsu society.

My parents called me over to greet them. As I get near I met a well looking family and also someone with blue eyes and white hair. And he was really handsome. I greeted them in a respectful way. Then my parents told me that is Gojo clan and the guy with white hair is Gojo Satoru. I couldn't believe my eyes! That's Gojo Satoru? The Strongest sorcerer?!

I just stood there still while my parents were talking. I felt someone was watching me and then I saw that satoru was staring at me. He was smirking at me and eyeing me. I felt kinda uncomfortable and went to my bedroom giving some excuse. But didn't noticed that Noya was already there who was starting at me. 'fuck she's prettier than last time I saw her in childhood.... It's gonna be fun to make her my housewife ' he thought with a smirk on his face.

My parents talked with them about my marriage and satoru did not liked that but he didn't said anything and remained silent. But as he heard who I was getting married he almost choke. He knows Noya and they are great rivals!!!

After a while he excused himself...he started searching for me and when he found me in a room standing by the balcony alone....he went inside silently and locked the door. I turned around at the sound of locking door. When I saw Gojo. I got shocked.

"what are you doing here?" I asked. "Maybe just missed you" he said with a smirk. He started walking towards me. "My parents are chatting outside and it's boring... And I thought I should do what I found interesting" he said and stand beside me. "And what's that?" I asked. "Ofcourse you... I better talk with you instead of hearing shitty talks of my parents" he said. I giggled.

"Oh look I made you laugh" he said leaning against the balcony. I laughed again. " You are gorgeous " he said looking at me. "Thanks" I replied with a smile. "I'm so lucky to see someone as gorgeous as you" he said again. "Mr. Satoru Gojo this is wrong to flirt with a woman who's marriage is soon" I said with a smile.

"Hmmm but you are not married yet " he said. "Yeah " I replied. "Do you wanna marry him?" He asked. I looked at him. "W-what?" I replied with shock. "Do you wanna marry him? I don't wanna take his name" he said. I just looked at him.

Suddenly he grabbed my waist and pulled me towards him. My eyes widened. " Just tell me y/n.... And I'll stop this marriage.... Fuck you don't know how much I want you.... I'll love you, give you everything you want... anything!!!" He said looking at my eyes. "Why do you hate him?" I asked him. "Oh come on... You don't know? We're rivals...we hate each other... And I hate because... there's nothing not to hate him... he's a fucking misogyny!" He said with disgust. "What do you say.... My parents wants me to marry too... They would be happy to have you as daughter in law " he said. His face was so close to mine. Our lips were almost touching. I stared at his lips and said "yes". With that he pressed his lips on mine.

He kissed my neck. I blushed. "stop...we can't... now" I said "why not?" He whined like a baby. "Someone may find out" I whispered. " I'll blow their eyes if someone sees us" he whined again and pressed his lips on mine. He took off his glasses and placed it on on the table.

He took me towards the bed and we both climbed on the bed. He kissed me roughly. Making me breathless. He didn't took off my dress or bra. He pulled out my boobs from it and I gasped. He started playing with my nipples with his tongue. " Mmhhhmmhm" I moaned. Gojo smirked. He slowly reached for my panties and took off it.

he rubbed my clit and I gasped. He smirked. He got up and took off his shirt while staring at my pussy. Then he again came near to my face and kissed me. I heard a unzipping sound and when looked down saw Gojo was stroking himself.

He lined himself with my pussy. He looked at me. I moaned slightly. He slowly pushed himself in. I grabbed on his shoulder taking deep breath. He give me some time to adjust it. Then he slowly started thursting in and out. He started increasing the speed. I was a moaning mess. He was so huge. His dick was touching my deepest parts. His speed became faster and harder. I dig my nails on his back. My pussy clenched around him tightly.

He flipped me. Now I was lying on my stomach. He reached for my ass and spanked me harshly. He pushed his whole length inside me again. In this position he was going much more deeper.

He thursted in and out roughly. I was moaning his name repeatedly. After a few minutes I came. My walls clenched around him tightly. " G-god... You're so tight, baby... F-Fuck...." He moaned and with that he came inside me. Then he cleaned me and him. He took his glasses and wore it. I also wore my pantie.

"don't worry... I'll buy you pills" he said. I blushed. "Oh and btw...as your birthday gift what do you want?....or U want a baby as a gift?" He said with a smirk. "Now shut up!" I said with blush. He cackled. "I'm joking!... Take it... this is my black card. Buy whatever you want darling" he said. "You don't have to give me, Gojo" I said. "Please?... Mrs. Gojo?" He said with a smirk. "Fine!" I said with a blush.

We went to the door and when Gojo opened the door Noya rushed into the room. He grabbed gojo by his collar and pinned him to the wall. "You mf... how dare you?! She's my wife!!!!" He screamed. "No she isn't" Gojo said. "Noya let him go!!!" I said but he didn't even listen. "Her family has a agreement with my family!!! She's going to marry me!" He said. "Do you think her family gonna do even after I tell them not to do?" Gojo said with a smirk. "I'm gonna kill you!!" Noya said with grinded teeth. "Why are you saying something that you can never do?" Gojo said raising his eyebrow. Noya let go off his shirt.

After that day Gojo talked with my family. But they didn't say no cause the whole jujutsu society was afraid of Gojo. We got married. But the suprising thing is Noya didn't do anything to stop it or something. Did he accepted it or....he was planning something?

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

#jjk #jjk smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw noncon #fem reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo noncon #noya x reader #Noya noncon #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere gojo #yandere

[hana-bobo-finch]

Assorted pikmin headcanons that I might end up deleting bc I definitely haven’t already posted enough today

• Most Hocotatians can’t grow facial hair. Those who can are greatly envied (even if it’s just a few scraggly hairs like the president)

• Hocotate is mostly desert. Because of this, hocotatians generally don’t need as much water as others.

• Yonny is. Extremely in love with dingo. But he still tries to be a good wingman when dingo’s trying to talk to shepherd cause even if he’s insane he’s a good friend

• Louie tries to zone out when olimar’s telling him “stories” (which are more just olimar’s train of thought) but ends up subconsciously retaining it all. He remembers more about olimar than olimar himself.

• Collin actually has social anxiety despite being the comms guy, ironically the only way he’s found that he can calm himself is to never stop talking. So he yaps. A lot.

• Yonny’s tried to tell dingo before that his disliking of dogs probably stems from some form of ptsd from the time he thought he was being attacked during a rescue. Dingo just bragged about it because he thought having trauma made him sound more “badass.” It did not. He was very confused when he got sympathy and not admiration.

• Olimar gets frustrated with Louie very easily, but keeps it hidden because Louie gets chastised by the other employees and the president a lot and olimar wants to be the one to help him instead of just yelling at him.

• Hocotate freight, despite being tasked with large shipping jobs, is a rather small company with barely any employees. There’s pretty much no experience needed other than a basic pilot’s license to get a job there because the president is so desperate for workers

• Louie doesn’t even have a pilot license. He only managed to get hired because his nana convinced the president to hire him because of his family’s lineage of renowned pilots.

• His nana didn’t even ask Louie before getting him hired. He was looking to get a fry cook job at a restaurant nearby to save up for culinary school. He just went with it because he didn’t want to disappoint her

• Collin is aroace. He doesn’t know it, he just thinks he’s “too busy” for sex and romance (am I just saying that bc I’m projecting onto him nooooo I would neeever do that)

• Koppaites generally age physically slower than most. Giyans? What’s it called uhh. People from giya tend to physically age faster. They both have roughly the same life expectancy, though

• it’s a common practice on most civilized planets for the people to dye their hair, as they all share the trait of usually greying quickly. Only hocotatians don’t do this, as they over time have developed hair that retains its color longer—although they have less of it

• Louie hates space travel. He gets motion sickness easily. Olimar, on the other hand, loves it, and likes to do tricks with his ship when flying like spinning around. Somehow that’s never been the cause of a crash, the worst that’s happened was just louie feeling sick

• dingo has low iron levels. I have nothing more to add it is just definitely true

• whenever Louie’s on pnf-404 by himself, he survives the creatures by just ignoring them. Turns out a lot of them aren’t inherently violent or have a taste for hocotatian. The ones that do attack can be defeated easily by giving them poisonous plants

• Many of the planets are more of dwarf planets, if even that. Only hocotate, koppai, Giya, and pnf 404 are larger. Most of them are tiny and in the same solar system, making them almost more akin to different countries or continents than entirely different planets

that is all for my yapping goodbye

#I AM SCARED OF DOING NORMAL FANDOM THINGS LIKE HCS I AM UNCOMFY #I don’t wanna tag all this but here goes #pikmin #pikmin headcanons #olimar pikmin #louie pikmin #dingo pikmin #yonny pikmin #Collin pikmin #aight that should be good enough

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Hey bestie popping by with a random ask: what have been your favs so far from your old jbl project?

Hi! Thank you for the random ask.

I was actually just working on my monthly breakdown so I was trying to write just a couple of sentences about what I watched this month so this comes at a good time because this month I definitely saw one of my favs.

The Novelist. I don't know if I can coherently convey my thoughts about it but I'll give it a try. I think there were several factors that made me take so long to watch it. I never read full reviews about it, because although I don't mind spoilers in general, I also like to go into some shows as unbiased as possible. That was not easy. I basically went into it thinking it was depressing and it involved a lot of sex that I wasn't sure where it would land of the consent scale. I don't really remember where I got this idea tbh. Anyway.

Although after hearing people like you, @twig-tea and @bengiyo talk about it in different contexts I was less wary about it for sure. So I went into it with a more open mind, even with reservations. I mean I basically went through the lighter parts of the ojbl list first, so part of me was dreading the rest. I don't mind darker stories, or darker bl's. I have way darker ones coming up on the list. But I always feel like I need to be in the right frame of mind for them. Because I can get too emotionally invested and my moods tends to swing easily.

All this to say, I wasn't expecting a story about two lonely people 'using' each other to fight that loneliness. As I was just writing in my breakdown post, Kijima was such an interesting character to me. Because in the beginning I was just curious about him, like there was something odd about him, his demeanor. And when I realized that he was faking part of it and just using Kuzumi I hated him. So much. But, and I have to give major props to the actor, because in episode 4 when Kuzumi leaves and Kijima in on the table just listening to the record and crumpling the pages, I was gone. I fully saw him for the first time. That man is lonely and hopeless and I felt so much for him in that moment. And that of course lasted through to the end and that smile

I was practically clapping. Brilliant. It was such a beautiful ending. I felt like the show broke my heart a bit and it was all healed in this moment.

So to recap, not only was this a wonderful surprise that completely obliterated my expectations, but it's so beautiful. Everything is good. The cinematography, the music, the acting, everything was brilliant. So good. So if everyone that reads this has not yet seen for some reason or another I urge you to do it. I still have yet to see the other installments so I can't speak to all of it but this one is so worth it. I honestly can't believe that Kijima has become such an important character to me.

I think before this one, my favourites were for sure the first two I watched. Ai No Kotodama and No Touching at All.

They were both such great surprises. Let me just quickly look through my notes because my memory might betray me. Oh okay.

Ai no Kotodama I really enjoyed how it was shot and edited. I liked how they used several things to mirror the relationship, the perfume , the stair gazing and the other couple. I felt everything served the story in a really interesting way. I also like that the girl wasn't the usual bl girl and in the end she was actually jealous of their relationship more than in love with either of them. I also really like how the film made me unsure about their relationship almost from the start, because it makes sense in this case. My confusion mirrors Shinya's confusion and fear.

I also really liked No Touching at All's directing. It was really interesting how they used the camera work. For most of the film the couple is usually far away from us, the camera is on the other side of the room or something like that. And it's almost keeping us at a distance. So when the camera finally gets close up, it's during their break up, which I thought was intentional to cause the most emotional impact. Like now you should be invested in this moment because so are they. They are being honest for the first time so there are no more barriers for us because they are being truthful and removing their own. I also think Shima's internal struggle was really well portrayed, I liked the fact that he initiated the break up for self preservation reasons and so Togawa coming back to him at the end is what allows him to trust it. It makes me believe more in their future together.

This got a bit longer than I intended. These three are definitely my favourites but I'm really enjoying this project, even if I don't love everything, I think there's always something positive about all of them. At least the ones I've watched.

Anyway I hope that answers your question. My next one will probably be Mood Indigo and I'll have to look at my list again but I know I have a couple other ones on there still to watch.

Thank you so the question.

#rose answers #Rose Watches OJBL #the novelist #ai no kotodama #no touching at all #apologies if there are any mistakes

[penspolin]

Benedict Bridgerton & Freedom: A Character Study

I think many would agree that Benedict Bridgerton's storyline in season 3 so far has been rather stagnant, potentially deja-vu-inducing. Benedict pursuing an unconventional love interest is nothing we have not already seen from the series. But despite the cyclical nature of Ben's plot, it could suggest more about his characterization (more specifically, his subconscious desperation) than what first meets the eye.

Art & Societal Detachment

Much of Benedict's plot in seasons 1 and 2 revolved around his relationship with art. Symbolically, art is a means of escape from the real world, just as it is a means of interpreting that world or one's place within it. Since both Colin and Benedict struggle with society (in similar, yet still different, ways), it only feels right that Colin feels a personal connection with writing while Benedict expresses himself through art.

It goes without saying that Benedict has poured his soul into his artistic pursuits; it is a part of him, and so naturally the revelation that Anthony bought his place in art school is a massive blow to his self-confidence. Colin experiences something similar: it's as if both brothers are struggling with this question of what it means to be themselves, not merely "Bridgertons" (side note, but the series title is interesting to me in that it calls upon the family's reputation, despite that reputation creating conflict in so many of the characters' stories).

Benedict makes several comments throughout the show that serve other characters' plots, but they speak so much to how he sees the world. For example, in S2 he tells Anthony:

"Poetry is the art of revealing precious truth with words."

By suggesting that poetry "reveals" something else, Benedict is implying that the world is made up of concealed truths. In other words, art is a means of seeing the world (and society at large) more clearly. Which brings me to...

Freedom (& Tilley Arnold)

Season 3 Benedict feels purposeless. The promotional material has indicated as much, and we saw it early when his only means of fulfillment (performing Anthony's Viscount duties while he was away on honeymoon) was taken away.

Season 3 Colin rejects society internally but tries to embrace it outwardly. Benedict has played the part himself before, but he's never pretended to enjoy it (see: his dancing at balls this season).

Ben is a rake, but he's not the kind that chases women to build his reputation. Colin was a rake to fit in, but Benedict is a rake because...well, because he wants to be. An important distinction. The similarity with Colin, however, is revealed through a conversation between Benedict and Mondrich.

Benedict views society as a cage outside of marriage. Once one becomes married, they become free. He even uses that word (a season 4 hint, perhaps? Could Ben's next pursuit of 'freedom' be finding the love of his life?).

We know Benedict hates these imposed restrictions. The most fascinating thing is that even when he has lost a huge part of his identity, Ben is still inherently searching for something, someone, to represent that detachment from society that he so craves. It's why he seems so disinterested in courting--why he runs anytime he is forced into the "societal" box. He is subconsciously searching for anything that removes him from this box...and who better than a bold, unconforming widow?

In my eyes, if Benedict falls in love with Tilley Arnold, that ultimately says more about him psychologically than any true bond between them. It is the idea of her that he falls back on so strongly after the blow he's suffered losing his art, the one thing that made him feel whole. She's temporarily filling a void.

Masquerade

Last point--the symbolism of masquerades. It's an interesting contradiction that concealing one's physical identity is actually exposing one's inner identity. That is to say, the writers have a chance to play with these ideas--self-expression, freedom, facades, escapism, etc.--at the masquerade ball (whenever we see it). It's such a poetic representation of what Benedict is searching for. I'd argue it's almost all subconscious at this point. Benedict seemed so sure of himself when he had art, but now the tables have turned on him--he's like Colin in S2: purposeless. The brothers' stories mirror each other, but the resolution of their problems is unique.

Here's hoping the showrunners/writers take advantage of the opportunity to do something more with Benedict's character in the second half of season 3. And fingers crossed this is all gearing up for Benedict as S4's lead. Seeing Colin in the spotlight in S3 presents a nice comparison with Benedict's own struggles.

#bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #benedict bridgerton #benedict #colin bridgerton #Bridgerton meta #benophie #luke thompson #luke newton #bridgerton season3 #meta #bridgerton s3 spoilers #benedict x sophie #bridgerton series #bridgerton meta #bridgerton analysis

[oursecretways]

Forbidden feelings pt.1

older non-idol! Chan × younger! Reader notes: aaah I did it! Honestly got a little stuck on it for a while (╥﹏╥) buuut we are finally here! For me, this is a lesson learned: sometimes you need to take a step back! Also, some important things: for now I just want to upload my works, but I will go and edit all that needs to be edited. My native language isn't English, so please be patient and piggybacking off of patience: I am gonna start working on Monday. So, even though I want to try to write as much as I can, it might take longer for a little while at least until I learned the ins and outs of my tasks. Hope y'all understand, much love. ♡ genre: fluff, angst, slice of life word count: 1,437

warning(s): age gap, slight violence, little sad

« Overture │part 1 │ part 2 »

  As soon as you landed and made your way into the airport hall, your phone started to ring— it was Chan. He wanted to pick you up and help you move into your dorm. After clearing your throat and trying to calm your nerves, you picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/N! Where are you? I'll park my car and pick you up.” You smiled ever since you two met at your home, you could rely on him:  he was always on the lookout for you, making it hard for your younger self not to develop a big fat crush on him. “I'm in terminal 4.” You said, after looking around, to make sure you say the correct number. Once you saw an empty bench, you sat down. Thankfully, the terminals were quite empty, and only a few people were going to their flights or to catch a cab outside. “Okay, star there; I'm coming to pick you up.” He said that and hung up on you, and even though you knew Chan didn't see it, you nodded. Not like you were planning on moving; your stuff was so heavy that you barely moved it with your strength, even though you thought you are strong, since you and Binnie worked out together daily — making you quite proud of yourself if you’re being honest — while you were in your hometown. He was like a personal trainer for you, which made your brother roll his eyes. Although he acted like he hated it, he is glad that you and his friend group are getting along. The group always felt like a part of your family—making it quite large—and was always there to hang out at your place when they could, since you got the biggest house; it wasn't a mansion but had some spacious rooms. Once your parents realized that they had adopted seven boys, they bought a couple of inflatable mattresses and more bedding.

 While waiting for Chan, you quickly checked your phone, replying to the family group chat that you are indeed okay, Channie is about to pick you up, and yes, you will call them once you're settled into your dorm. When you looked up from your mobile, you first noticed a chest, then a pair of big brown eyes and his smile. The butterflies in your stomach went wild. How can someone be so handsome? You smiled back at him, waving awkwardly and trying to choke your feelings. “Hey Channie, sorry for troubling you; I could've gotten a taxi; I didn't think that my parents would make you do this.” You averted your eyes to the ground. Judging by the time of day and him being in a suit, you knew he would be late for his corporate job. Even though you were happy he came to get you, it truly bothered you that he stopped everything to get you. Yes, your luggage is heavy, but you are already 20 and in college, which in your eyes makes you an adult. “I volunteered to help you; they didn't ask me. I wanted to make sure you got all the help you needed. We both know you won't ask anyone for help; the only difference is that I can tell you what you need help with.” You couldn't help but get slightly frustrated with his know-it-all tone and the smirk on his face.

 Without saying a word, you gave him your suitcase and started walking straight. He was standing behind you, shaking his head. “Go left; that is where I parked.”

The car ride was filled with jokes, singing along to the playlist you started making together a while back. You couldn’t help but admire his smiley. His dimples and the way his eyes shrink as he smiles from ear to ear. You hope he doesn’t catch you staring, but it is so hard not to drool over this man. Eventually, you focus on looking out the window and taking a little nap, since getting to your dorm takes longer than you expected. Once he realizes that you’re fast asleep, he lowers the volume of the music you’ve been listening to and smiles to himself, “She’s all grown up now, huh…” 

Chan gently wakes you up once you’ve arrived. You were drowsy but murmured an okay as a response, then after a big stretch you get out of the car and tried to get your stuff out of his truck, but he stopped you. “Let me get it for you” you watched sheepishly as he got your luggage out, “Chan, I am grateful, but I can do it.” He just shook his head, not taking you seriously. As he got your belongings out, he stopped in his tracks, “Wait, Y/N, close your eyes for me just a bit.” Without much hesitation, you did as he told you. You heard him shuffle some things as he probably got something out of his car. “Okay you can open it now” Once you opened it you saw a wolf plushie in front of you: he had a happy face. You took it from him with some hesitation within you. Its gray fur was unbelievably soft. You looked at him with a puzzled exertion on your face, “It is a gift for you, since you got into University now. You used to tell me that I remind you of a wolf, so whenever I cannot come to your rescue Wolf-chan will be with you.” you couldn’t help, but laugh at his proud expression with the name idea he had, saying a silent pray for his future kids within you… This man needs to come up with better names for them. “But I am an adult now, I don’t play with plushies.” You protested; judging by his facial expression, he knew you would say something like that, so without skipping a heartbeat he said, “Oh, I guess I can just throw it out instead then.” You immediately opposed his statement, making him smirk. You rolled your eyes and held the plushie tight to your chest.

Once Chris left, and you unpacked your stuff and called your parents. You showed them around on a video call, introduced your roommates to them. Their worry for you feels suffocating, even if you know it comes from a place of love. 

After a couple of days you got accumulated to the University life, and became besties with your roommates:  Nari, Jia and Hana. You got so caught up that in your own bubble that you had Chan slip out of your mind… maybe for the better, he doesn’t feel the same for me anyway, maybe I should look for other people — at least that is what you told yourself. 

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

Chan’s POV.:

It has been almost a month, since he has seen or talked with you. He tried texting you a couple dozen times along the lines of: “Hey, Y/N! How’s the dorm? Are you getting along with everyone?” or “Are you free this weekend? We could hang out, maybe eat lunch or dinner together.” 

His frustration grew larger and larger — understandably. He didn’t know what he did, if he did anything, and this weird almost suffocating feeling, so he went back to focusing on his job: making games. “We’re about to launch an important update anyway, I need to focus on this” he sighed as he grabbed a bottle of water and continued his late night work.

His days went by, consisted with working his ass off late into the night, so the management — once the update was out — took the department for a night out at a bar. It was fun, he cannot deny it, although he didn’t drink much — thanks to the need to take care of your brother and their friend group — he enjoyed himself. Once he bid his farewells, and left the place, Chan noticed a seemingly younger couple fight, so as anyone would do he just wanted to go beside them not causing any disturbance thinking that they can figure it out. Until he heard your name: What do you mean no, Y/N? Did you think I was this nice just to get nothing? I am your upperclassman, wouldn’t you want to give the respect I deserve?” And then Chris saw you, trying to get out his clench. “I didn’t think of it as like you wanted anything, I just thought you’re being friendly! How is that my fault?..” This is all that he could listen to. He changed his course and grabbed your hand out of his. “Y/N? I was looking for you everywhere.”

🏷️(open):

@toomanybiasz

#bang chan fluff #oursecretways forbidden feelings #oursecretways #bang chan x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #seungmin #skz angst #skz x you #stray kids x reader #bahng chan #stray kids college au #skz college au #skz fanfic #skz #skz x reader #skz stay #changbin #bang chan #han #lee know #i.n #skz au #lee felix #lee minho #lee know as your brother #lee felix x reader

[alice1505]

I made the mistake of rewatching Sherlock because I never did finish it back in the day (I was -clenches fist- seething over the queerbaiting and rage quit after not fully watching episode 1 of s4) and I'm here to make my side hyperfixation (what year is this??? Who am I???) Tumblr's problem. The more I sit with s4, the less I like it 😂 There were pieces and elements I liked, but overall, it left a bad taste in my mouth. Forgive me if any or all if these points have been talked to death, I missed all the discourse and I'm hella late, but I need to flail and send my thoughts into the void because what even WAS that season? I can't believe I avoided it for years, got drawn in by a couple of tiktoks making fun (affectionately) of superwholock Era and That Scene about the fucking phone charger port, binged all of it, only to be left with..... that. Not nearly as disappointing or rage inducing as spn's ending but by God, did it leave a hole in me. So please ignore my rambling thoughts as I slap them down here for my own sanity.

• First and foremost, what - and I can't stress this enough - the fuck was UP with the assassination of John's entire character???? What was that??? Why????

• Related to that point - I can appreciate the angst point and potential it provides, as I'm reading many, many fics, but AYO WHY didn't anyone rip John an entire new one for that beat down he did on Sherlock????? Hello???? 911?????

• Tell me why everything felt so stilted and borderline icy. Like I get the high emotions and shit, but after a certain point... 😭 was there a falling out between Benedict and Martin that I'm not aware of? Did they just try to ungay everything so hard and were so pissed at the audience picking up everything THAT THEY PUT???? into this show and their interactions that they just hit the brakes hard enough to make everything feel weird???

• A lot of it felt weird. Off kilter a little. Forced in some places, toned down in others (and toned down where it shouldn't have been), a nod to ships but weirdly/hatefully??? Idk if that makes sense. Like the whole Sherlock and Molly phone call (I do not mean any hate to this ship, I really hope it doesn't come off this way. Not my cup of tea but you are valid). Why was Molly so upset BEFORE the call? Did I miss something? Also I don't personally think or feel she'd still have those feelings for him??? I??? I am bamboozled.

• to that whole point, Eurus was.... Hmm. Mmmm. She was. Something. (Confused derogatory)

• I like Mary as a character. I also hated her. (Definitely biased by my shipper trash ass self for johnlock, I'm sorry). Wtf were those messages, please. Edit: AND ANOTHER THING. John's reaction to Sherlock's death - awful, gut wrenching, beautiful, my heart breaks with and for him, utterly devasting. John's reaction to Mary's death - had me sitting there like🧍‍♀️(it was weird. so weird. awkward. w h y. (we know why, but also the acting choices were Something TM, in both cases! for different reasons!) i'm sorry i just can't get past my anger and put off-ness with mary, fun as she could be)

• why did mycroft and John switch roles 😭 pls. The last episode was just. So Much. The lackluster responses from John, to John, to Sherlock, between them, like.... hello???? Who are these people?? Help me. Moriarty saved me for a brief shining moment tho, God bless.

There's more I could spew, but that's what's sitting right at the top of my head. I guess all this just to say, if a show runner/writer really just fucking hates the audience they got (instead of the one they wanted), they probably shouldn't have fucking become a show runner/writer in the first place. Either hand it to someone who can actually handle it and listens, or fuck off. I will never understand when shows and plots and characters gets kamikaze'd because of a show runner being pissy and egotistical. Like ????? Grow up. Learn from Bryan Fuller and Hannibal or something.

Sorry for all the rambling, bless anyone who reads this and makes sense of it 😂

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #johnlock #season 4 #s4 #steven moffat #mark gatiss #yo wtf #rambling thoughts #ranting #rip me

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

RIGHT @littlemisscactus I CONQUERED microsoft paint. Go me. I'm only... 27 lmao.

Anyway... here's 'My Ship in 5 Minutes' for Steelweave Tav and Rolan! Excuse the atrocious fills. I started that way, realised there was a better way, and decided to proceed with the mess anyway lol. I think from this I'm seeing that I like to write characters who are both very intense about each other…

My personal opinion on Rolan and PDA (since it comes up a lot in this, and in Sharp Teeth!) is that he gets embarrassed about it in front of his siblings, but although he cares about maintaining a smart and competent Archmage image generally, he also doesn't really give a fuck about random people he doesn't know. They're a bit beneath his notice... so it's not his problem if they see Tav has her arm round him. (Ok, well, he might blush a bit if she kisses him romantically, but he adores her so who cares?). And for horny PDA... they're both so horny they basically forget anyone else exists.

Honestly, they're both quite similar people - determined, protective of each other, confident.... but Tav is more flexible and Rolan is more single-minded; Tav is more inclined to happiness and Rolan to stress. Tav's a bit better at picking up on when Rolan's dealing with something than vice versa, but she can't always tell exactly what the problem is!

And then needs structure/needs freedom: I think Tav discovers that she's better outside of the army, encountering lots of new challenges and making her own decisions. Meanwhile, Rolan does best once he's settled into the Tower and its routine.

Day-to-day, Rolan talks more - mostly about magic - and Tav listens and appreciates him. She does share herself, but she's less prone to long trains of thought and tends to the practical. (Did I mention she adores him too? And definitely listening to him talk about magic!) The one exception to this is in conflict/emotional difficulty, where Tav will usually be the first to express herself and open up a subject.

As for jealousy - well, I think they both know the other is their everything. But given Tav's the more gregarious and well-liked one, Rolan might have more cause to be jealous... but really, it just doesn't factor in for either of them.

I put them both tending a smidge towards co-dependent just because although on a practical level they can both function well, they're very dependent on each other for working through emotional stuff. Whilst Rolan loves Cal and Lia very much, he hates taking advice from them and generally, because of being their older brother, has avoided burdening them with his inner struggles. Similarly, Tav's closest friends scatter to the four winds post-game, so he is always her closest confidant. But they're happy like that.

OK, I think that's it! This was fun and got me thinking about a few different aspects of their relationship!

#steel weave #cabbage writes

[sehtoast]

The Sun Will Come Up

grief, hurt/comfort, ben (spidersona oc) consoling ryan, ben and homelander coparenting | Fic Directory

“I don't know!”

The boy's cry comes out in a squeak, the sob suppressed tight in his throat as if letting it go would destroy the rest of the world. 

“I don't– I'm–”

Ben sits beside him atop their choice of skyscraper. The outing was supposed to help Ryan, and he supposes it has, in a way. He's finally letting it out. All the anger and rage smothered by the weight of his grief. 

The loss of his mother. The responsibility he feels for both her death and the disfigurement of Stormfront. The former was so easily understandable, but Ben supposes only the heart of a child could hold sympathy for the latter. 

Not to mention the pain of it all thrown back in his face by Butcher. 

Ben's so incredibly thankful John found him. 

All of his pain and fury comes out in screams and balled fists that leave cracks in the concrete of the roof with each and every slam. 

Ben reaches out to pat and rub circles against Ryan's upper back, silently consoling the boy as he weeps. The sound of tears sizzling in the heat of his crimson eyes reminds Benjamin so very much of the boy's father. 

“It's m-my f-fault! Dad says it's not, b-but!” Ryan pushes through heaving breaths. “But I killed my mom! I hurt her!” 

The bug doesn't quite know how to help. No amount of telling him that it was okay, or that he somehow wasn't really responsible, would do anything more than fan the flame and make the boy eventually bury it all under layers of deniability like so many other supes. 

“I hate my powers! I never asked for ‘em!”

I didn't know it would happen! 

I couldn't control my powers! 

I couldn't stop it! 

Lines heard again and again. 

Flashes of John in the labs course through Ben's mind. Grainy images of blood splattered walls and a boy too young to understand why. 

Why? 

Ryan lurches forward with every full-body sob, eventually throwing himself at Ben to be held safe from the cruelty of the world, his grip round the web-head's abdomen damn near punishing. 

“I–” he heaves, gasping for air. Diaphragm must be spasming “W-what do I do!?” 

A marvelous question, and not one easily answered. What does he do? 

“Well…” Ben murmurs, keeping up with those comforting circular motions against the boy's back. He can feel each quiet sob, suppressed or not. The quiver of his breaths. The gaps between them when Ryan holds tight to stale oxygen. “You gotta do the hard part first, bud.”

Which was never what anyone wanted to hear. 

“You have to forgive yourself.” 

“I can't, I–” 

“I know. But listen to me.” Ben leans back, resting a hand on the boy's head to ruffle his hair. “You did it. You did. And you gotta take responsibility for it no matter what, okay?” He hates the way the boy's eyes well up at his words, but this needs to be said. “We make it up to the people we hurt by doing better for the rest.” 

Ryan stares quietly, but the tears continue rolling. 

“We gotta do better. We learn to control our powers to protect people.” Ben continues. He'll be damned if this boy learns the all too common lesson Vought teaches all of their supes. Non-super humans aren't expendable; they're not a means to an end nor toys for supes to break. “Your mom loved you, buddy. Loves you, I mean. Her love doesn't stop just ‘cuz she's not around anymore. You keep it in here,” he taps over his own heart. “You were her sunshine, and now…” Ben swallows against the lump in his throat. “Now you gotta decide if you're gonna be the sun in a different way, y'know?”

Ryan nods. “I think so…” 

“You're not a bad person. You're little, and the world is very big and, honestly, pretty terrible.” A fact the boy has already learned the hard way. “But there's good things, too. Like how your dad and I love you. We've got your back every step of the way. Promise.” 

The sudden shuffle of footsteps approaching spooks both of them, but the voice that follows is unmistakable. 

“He's right.” Utters the new arrival, swishing his cape to the side before descending to sit on Ryan's other side. Homelander's eyes are rimmed red, but the untrained eye might simply think they're wind bitten from his flight to join them.

Ben knows better. 

“You've always got us in your corner.” 

Homelander shoots the bug a worried look when all that comes is more tears, but Benjamin only nods to him.  Neither one is particularly cut from the cloth of parental instinct, but something tells him Ryan just needs to be allowed to feel it.  No words, no excuses.

The pair sit with him until the sun sets below the horizon. Until he cries himself out and falls asleep between them with his father's cape draped over his shoulders. 

The sun will set countless times in his life, but it will be up to him to choose the dawn. All they can do is hope it'll be as bright as he deserves. 

#homelander #ryan butcher #homelander x oc #very light relationship vibes here i just want ryan to be loved ;_; #the boys #the benlander agenda

[twinsarekeepers]

do you genuinely think people who draw/write book annabeth are racist?

This could be a disingenuous ask but okay, I’ll bite and answer honestly.

First of all, “book” Annabeth can be black. That is how I see her and have seen her even before the show casting was announced. A lot of people reading the books now see Annabeth as Leah. Everyone has a different interpretation of Annabeth’s physical characteristics in the books and to try and say “book” Annabeth is synonymous with “white” Annabeth is wrong.

(And no you cannot use the book description or official art as an excuse. Rick is awful with consistent physical descriptions. Multiple characters have changed hair color and eye color throughout the series. The official art has literally been changed twice. The recent book had no physical descriptions of the characters and was literally dedicated to Walker, Leah, and Aryan. Rick has also said that when writing the characters now, he sees those three kids as them. This is not me defending Rick, because he’s still a coward that plays both sides of this, but if you want to say the book character is white then that is simply wrong now. She, at the very least, is ambiguous enough for everyone to choose what she looks like. There is no definitive “book” Annabeth now.)

“Book” Annabeth and “TV” Annabeth are the same character. There are no significant personality or backstory changes between the book and the show character that can justify separating the two of them like that. The only reason people are separating them is because they want to hold onto to the white version of the character. (I know there’s going to be stupid people with no media literacy who don’t know how adaptations work in my mentions “explaining” the differences, but no. The show has done a very good job at taking the character on the page and finding ways that are suitable for the screen to depict the same characteristics).

Before y’all say that people do this with TV Percy and book Percy too: it did not start that way. “Book” and “TV” Annabeth began when the show was in production, before anyone could even see how the show would handle Annabeth’s character. When some of us pointed that out, people started trying to separate “book” Percy and “TV” Percy. It was literally a tactic to hide their racist intentions. (And again, there are not enough differences between the book and tv show character to justify this separation, especially when this started happening BEFORE the show even released to the public).

So that’s a little context to how this separation even started. I know what y’all are going to say. “But just because it started as racist, doesn’t mean it’s racist now!” And to that I say, sure, but that’s not the case here.

White Annabeth fanart has been consistently used to hate on Leah, a real girl. We all know how much Leah has been getting harassed and bullied for her role as Annabeth and when her casting was announced, people used fanart to discredit her. Artists who continued to draw white Annabeth refused to monitor their comments and they were filled with people hating on Leah’s casting. Not only that, but artists who started drawing Annabeth as black would get hateful messages and comments as well. Accounts were going as far to take fanart of Leah’s Annabeth and whitewashing it (and then putting it in the leahisourannabeth tag). This is still happening today. You can find comments under fanart of Walker and Leah’s percabeth saying “I prefer the originals” or “the originals are better”. That’s very obviously racism.

For this reason, we started saying to stop drawing and writing white Annabeth. It’s being used in a direct and tangible way to harass a real young girl. If enough people in the fandom refuse to engage with white Annabeth then the hate will significantly decrease. There are the obvious excuses to this: “people will be racist no matter what so what’s the point of even trying?” That’s not true. Racists are cowards, especially people who harass children. They are emboldened only by others. If they see people continuing to support the separation between the book and show characters, and drawing white Annabeth fanart, they’re going to DO racist things like get Leah’s account banned on tiktok.

And this is where the active racism occurs. People know that this harassment is happening and that the fanart that they produce is going to be used to harass Leah. Instead of deciding that they’ll do their part to lessen that harassment, no matter how small that is, they decide that engaging with white Annabeth fanart is more important. They can say that they condemn what’s happening to Leah and that it’s not their responsibility what people do with their fanart, but that still makes the action racist.

Y’all say that you condemn what’s happening to Leah, but then when given the tools to help lessen it, you refuse to do it. All because you want to hold on to a white version of a character. You spend more time defending that choice than going into your own mentions and deleting any and every comment that may become hostile to the kids, especially Leah. That is racism.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjotv #pjo tv show #percabeth #annabeth chase #leah sava jeffries #walker scobell #aryan simhadri #leah is our annabeth #leah is the only annabeth #protect black girls #my asks

[lovelycureaestetic]

Don't call me Trans

A more or less short and coherent post about personal journeys, fandoms and gender.

I don't really know how to start this post, I'm writing it down on my notes app for the first time now but I've rehearsed this for over a decade I think and yet I have to "roll with the punches".

Kinda like my journey as a queer person I guess so in the end I think it's only fitting for me.

You see, I'm a lucky individual, I grew up in a very accepting and somewhat progressive family. I've always thought that my parents, despite their age (both in their 60s rn), were pretty open-minded for their generation. Sure some things are just too much for them, but they don't hate and are very much cool with the things they do understand. Which is honestly a very good attitude and even if they're not "perfect" they made it so that I wouldn't have much issues coming out as a lesbian back when I was 18. But why am I telling you this? Well, this is a little preface to let you know that my environment was a nice one and that queerness was never an issue in my real life. So where were the issues, Nene?

Online. The issues were online and more specifically, inside the fandom spaces.

But Nene, aren't fandoms largely made up by accepting queer people? No. Fandoms are huge piles of toxic waste where you can find some rare shining gems and a safe bunker or two and the call about harassment is definitely coming from inside the house when it comes to queer on queer crimes.

But Nene, how does this relate in any way to your journey of self discovery? I will tell you right now, dear friend, fear not.

When I first started joining internet fandoms I was, maybe 14? It was the 2010s and online was the only space I could get any sort of exposure to the LGBT community (fewer letters back then, that's important to keep in mind). I was just a teen, I didn't watch the news, I didn't read newspapers; I watched anime, read manga and went on forums and Tumblr (and Facebook) to pass the time. I was too young and didn't know much because certain things like queerness were still very on the low, they just began to crawl up the surface and my only access to them was: fandoms. Of course I knew about gay people, my mom's hairdresser had a boyfriend and I knew about the ancient Greeks from school, but the first time I've read a love story between two men was in a manga for Christ' sake, it was a very different time, but I don't want to digress much. The important thing is that all my knowledge mostly came via Facebook pages about anime characters kissing. And then 2015 rolled in and I was basically almost only on Tumblr. I was 18 and just figured out my sexuality. Lesbian, score one. People were starting to talk about Asexuality and I believe a few years later I figured out I was Demisexual and kinda cried. Score two. And honestly I thought I was done. I thought there was nothing else for me to discover about myself and that that was that.

Mh.

Except...

Except that wasn't actually "that". As I grew older there was something bugging me more and more with each passing day. Something in the darkest and furthest corner of my mind, locked behind a vault. Something I just deemed impossible so I decided to cast it away in hopes of forgetting. But your mind never really does that, am I right? It never truly lets you forget. Oh no. And that something scratching and scratching away against the metal doors was my Gender Identity. Now then, why would I cast that aside? I had a pretty accepting environment in real life, all the things about sexuality I learnt from articles online and Wikipedia, so why was that an issue I had to lock away?

Because it wasn't what I saw around me.

I had read yuri mangas, I had read articles about asexuality, there were people online talking about them. There were headcanons about characters and "character X sexuality study essays". But what was there around me when it came to gender? Cis and Trans (Non-binary came later on so I didn't grow up with it). That was it. You were either cis or trans. And when you're a teen on Tumblr there is really only two ways to be trans: buff masc trans woman with a loud personality or scrawny shaky trans boy wearing oversized clothes. I'm afab so the second example was possibly my tumblr assigned gender and I was...

Not that.

I didn't wear baggy clothes, I didn't hate my body (not for those reasons at least), I did not feel like I was born wrong, I did not feel like a "uwu cute adorable transboy so sweet so pure". And to tell you the truth, the more I saw transness in fandom, the more I hated it. I did not hate trans people, absolutely not, and I knew that everyone had a right to interpret characters as they wanted. But every time I saw a cute and feminine character being called a transboy as in afab, something inside of me cried in agony and I felt, oh so bad about it because when I grew up in fandoms, not liking and sharing a trans headcanon meant you were transphobic. Yeah. You read that correctly. If you dared to say that you personally did not think Kurapika was trans you'd get sent hate mails because how COULD YOU DENY TRANS PEOPLE, YOU MUST'VE HATED THEM, YOU TRANSPHOBE! It didn't matter if you said it in the most chill way because someone asked what you thought, it didn't matter if you respected and just did not share those headcanons, because to them they were canon and if you hated canon then you must've had a problem with trans people. I know things have chilled a bit nowadays but hey, now I'm 28, the damage has already been done so what can you do. Anyway, I had these conflicted feelings for years and at times, when I dared to stop myself and just... Think for a while, I asked myself: why do I care so much, what is it to me if someone sees a feminine boy and calls it trans? Yeah it can be obnoxious, and femininity has nothing to do with gender, but why do I ACHE instead of just rolling my eyes and moving on?

Why

Why

Why

Why am I thinking so much about what my sexuality would be if I were a boy?

Why have I always picked the male protagonist in videogames?

Why would I be fine if people wrongfully used he/him pronouns with me?

Why am I sososo attached to femboy characters?

I don't hate my body, I don't hate my boobs, I don't hate my curves, I don't hide them, I like my curves, I don't feel like I'm in the wrong body, I'm not uncomfortable being called a girl.

So why, why, why

I can't be trans, I don't want to be a boy, I don't feel like how a trans person should feel, when someone called me an "egg" when they saw I liked femboys, I'm at the point where I recoil at the idea of being called trans. So I cannot be.

I have to be cis, then, right?

...

Realisation sounds like the buzzing of static left in your ears after listening to the ocean raging below.

Bigender.

It all made sense, I could see my whole life unfolding right in front of me and the long breadcrumbs trail I left for myself through the passage of time.

Bigender.

It had such a nice ring to it.

Bigender.

It was like a hug between male and female. It felt like I was born from the embrace of both ends of the spectrum.

I was happy, the vault was finally open and I was finally, consciously complete.

Yet there was still something bugging me.

People would still call me trans.

And I know, objectively speaking, that the word trans is a big umbrella term, that technically bigenderness falls under that umbrella.

But the wound is too deep, the gap too wide, I've spent too many years in the toxic waste that is fandom's perception of gender.

And this is NOT to say you shouldn't thrive with your trans headcanons. No. Go live your best life, but please, maybe from time to time, stop and ponder why fandoms that allegedly care so much about representation do nothing to actually represent different identities. Maybe sit down one afternoon and wonder why some people sound so bitter towards umbrella terms. Trans people aren't the issue here, of course, but the way they're portrayed at large in fandoms and the fact that the only non-cis terms being used are either trans or non-binary, are. And I'm so hung up on the way fandoms act because that's where MOST of young people have their first contact with the queer world. Of course everyone should be free to do whatever but if you truly care about kids and teens and adults feeling safe, accepted and SEEN, then you HAVE TO actually start and be inclusive of all identities.

I will help you carry that umbrella because we're all in this together, but once we reach your destination you could at least have the decency to use my name instead of yours.

Don't call me Trans, I'm Bigender.

#personal #pride month #bigender #gender identity #oh wow I'm actually posting this huh #sorry if it's badly worded #but it's been sitting on my chest for years so... yeah

[sarah-cam]

what crushed me the most is that lucy spent the entire episode being angry while tim spent the entire episode literally on the verge of tears 🫠

#chenford #the rookie #rookie lb #text #like did anyone else notice this #don't get me wrong she is RIGHTFULLY angry #i hated it so much for both of them just in different ways #lucy ended still being confused and angry #and tim ended with admitting he needs help 😭 #it all hurts!!! #(but i love it)