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eetherealgoddess · 2 months

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Hey, I just had a really good idea for u to write. A yandere bonten and a singer/ famous reader. I really love your writing style, and I get sooo excited when I see u post something 🫶🤭

Thank youu!! I get excited for good requests :)

ꨄMelodic Ruinꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Famous Singer Au

❦You’re an artist who caught Bonten’s attention❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

(Mostly Mikey but you’ll see what I mean)

❣︎I know in real life the manager doesn’t “own” the singer, but in this story, the reader will have signed all of their artistic rights to the manager so that the plot will make sense❣︎

Not fully proofread

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Melodic Ruin

Claps could be heard echoing throughout the concert hall as you stood on the surface with a sweet smile, thanking the audience before walking off the stage, the lights shutting off behind you as the crowd began to make their leave. The long dress you wore hugging your figure as the train of the fabric followed behind. You had just completed the last performance for your concert, your hands rubbing along your sides as you released a breath of relief. Of course you don’t get as much anxiety as you did when you first started singing in front of thousands of people, you just really cared about your craft. A perfectionist you could say. This particular performance was important as well considering the extra onlookers your manager warned you about, you having noticed a few of the “important” people in the VIP seats when you were on the stage.

You are ranked as a famous singer in your country, not having been worldwide just yet besides the few videos of you singing at home or in the studio that went viral, as well as your first album that was released recently. You’re a new industry baby, but you’re still trying to keep your own personality in your work without getting controlled by any record deal which is why you’re an independent artist. You take pride in your art, creative by heart and ambitious by nature. It took you quite a few years of releasing singles and singing social media videos to finally get noticed for your talent. You’re proud of yourself which is something that doesn’t happen often enough. You’re not exactly at the top yet but you’re not mad with where you’re at.

“Good job, Y/n! You’ve caught quite the attention!” Your manager greets you just as you made it backstage, offering you the business card in her hand. You look down and take the paper on your own, eyeing the print. Your eyes widened.

“I got invited to perform in JAPAN?!” You exclaim. Never have you ever gotten an opportunity to go out of the country, only touring around local concerts although still popular by demand.

“A private, high classed lounge owned by club owners Haitani Ran and Haitani Rin! Isn’t this great news?” She beams as she holds her hands up. You look at her with your eyes glistening, a wide smile on your face as you feel so grateful for the opportunity. And to be personally invited to perform at this specific lounge is a huge deal for you. You’ll have more of a chance at getting acquainted with bigger connections. It’s intimidating, yet you couldn’t help the excitement that your hard work is finally paying off even bigger than it has.

“We’re leaving first thing tomorrow so get your bags packed because it’s gonna be a long trip!” Your manager says before giving your arms a tight squeeze. “You deserve this, Y/n. Bask in it now because before you know it, you’ll be attracting even bigger opportunities.” She walks off, leaving you with the business card as you read the print once more.

You immediately change before packing your bags when you make it home, excitement making it hard to fall asleep although eager for the next day to come. It was early in the morning when you and your manager met at the airport holding your private jet. Checking your consistent notifications as well as scrolling through social media. Sitting on the plane was full of thought while you listened to the music blasting from your headphones, thinking about the venue you’d be performing at. How intimate it’ll be to sing amongst all of those people who will be judging you, observing your creativity to see if it’s worth the profit.

An empty estate was offered to you and your manager, coming upon a penthouse once your driver dropped you off. Your manager basked in the luxury as she unpacked, talking your ear off as if she’s more excited than you. You chuckle at the thought before heading to your own bedroom to unpack, an eyebrow raising at the name tagged on the door. When you opened the door, you were met with a modernized luxury bedroom. The body sized window gives you a beautiful view of the city from above. You stood there a moment before turning around to get your outfit ready for the night, already having notified your manager to not call the stylist since you already had an idea of what you were going to wear.

When evening finally struck you had just climbed into the vehicle, your driver helping you in before shutting the door behind you, along with your two security guards who traveled with you. Your manager sat in the passenger seat, the black suv moving along as you eye through the tinted window. Your nerves are struck, having never performed in a country other than your own. Especially with the presence of numerous important individuals, you couldn’t afford to make any rookie mistakes.

When you arrived, you were helped out of the car, different locals being held back by guards already posted for the lounge, keeping the crowd behind the ropes as you walked along the red carpet. You waved and smiled as people screamed your name and song lyrics, cameras flashing as well as paparazzi ready for the next best shot. Finally making it inside, you were greeted with a beautiful melody, red covering the walls with a marble floor. Gold decor plastered along as well as the large chandelier hanging from the middle of the room.

A red rug sat in the middle of the floor along with cushioned chairs and glass tables, a bar across from the stage as well as many people conversing with champagne and other alcoholic beverages. A woman holds a microphone on the stage, entertaining the audience with beautiful harmony. Everyone wears all black formal attire, causing you to look down at your shimmery, golden gown with a grimace. You turn to your manager as you both walk down the hall in the opposite direction, heading for the dressing room.

“I thought I was supposed to wear gold.” You say softly. She smirks.

“You are. Don’t forget, Y/n. This is your special night.”

My special night, right.

You take a deep breath before one of your security guards opens the dressing room.

Your eyes perk at the man standing inside. He turns his head back before walking towards you with a smile. You eye his purple orbs before examining the suit accenting his broad figure. His neck tattoo displays a symbol you’ve never seen before, though it fit him well. Fingers run through his short, dyed hair as he gets closer.

“Welcome, Y/n. Haitani, Ran.” He states, holding a hand out. You smile politely, ignoring your anxiety as you shake his hand. You couldn’t help but notice how soft his skin felt against yours.

“Hello, Mr. Haitani. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” You beam, subconsciously rubbing your palms against the fabric of your dress, refraining from picking at the dress.

“Please, call me Ran. The pleasure is all mine. We are grateful to have you here.” He says, before connecting his lips with the back of your hand, gaze still holding yours. You felt your face warm, having never been handled so gently by a man considering the type of males that live in your hometown. Your manager walks up, both of them greeting each other, though her body is slightly tense when she gives him a tight smile. You fail to notice the display of tension, too focused on the tingling sensation lingering from the contact with your hand.

“I see that gold fits you very well. Best choice I’ve ever made.” He chuckled. So he recommended it to your manager?

That brings you comfort knowing you hadn’t made a mistake, after all it never felt good to be the odd one out because of misinformation.

“Indeed it is. Y/n, let’s get you ready to perform!” Your manager eased her arm around your shoulder before pulling you off, Ran waving bye as he exited the room while you shifted your gaze at her with confusion.

“What was that about?” You question her as she fixes her own makeup in the mirror.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The way you just interr…”

“Y/n.” She breathes out. “Let’s focus on your music, yeah?” She says as she touches up your face. You nod your head right before an employee comes in to queue you. You exhale before heading down the hall behind the stage.

“Please give a warm welcome to Ms. Y/n!”

Straightening your back, you stepped onto the stage, revealing yourself to the audience who claps and cheers, giving you the welcome you deserve. You gaze at the beautiful view of the crowd, noticing a familiar suit sitting with eight other interesting looking men. You greet the crowd right before the music begins, beginning your performance as everyone quiets down, along with the light over the audience dimming.

During your performance, you allow yourself to get lost in the music. Closing your eyes as your hand moves along, flowing with the melody as your beautiful voice harmonizes well with the piano. Your head tilts as you release a stronger note that comes from the base of your voice, tightening your grip on the microphone as you walk along the stage. The slit of your gown opens slightly, exposing your thigh as you move across the stage. Your gaze shifts to different sides of the lounge, making eye contact with a few of the audience members as some of them sway their upper bodies with your song.

The frequency of your voice brings a sense of calmness to the crowd, some with their palm holding their cheek up as they wear a smile, pleasantly losing themselves with you as they seem to be in a trance that locks them in to only you. Some lean into your presence as they gaze at your figure, nodding their heads occasionally to the flow as well as admiring your overall appearance.

Your manager stands behind the stage, out of the sight of everyone as she chews her nails, shifting her gaze to the eight males that sit upstairs with the best view of the stage. Her eyebrows furrow while her arms tremble slightly, unable to focus on anything else but the intimidating gazes stuck on you. The platform of her shoe taps against the ground as she exhales.

The music goes out just as your voice lingers the last note, eyes fluttering back open as a grin grows on your expression, all the while one of your arms lie out to the side. You set the microphone back on the stand after you bow with a “thank you,” as everyone claps. You accidentally catch Ran’s gaze as well as the other men just as you wave ‘goodbye’ to the audience. You meet your manager behind the stage as she gives you a smile and pulls you into a hug.

“Great job, Y/n! Now let’s celebrate.”

The night was spent drinking as well as having conversations with various people, discussing their businesses and hobbies as well as asking you numerous facts about yourself. Your manager seemed to have disappeared a while ago, leaving you to sit by yourself on a lounge chair, the dress hugging your legs as if you were a mermaid. You eye your phone’s screen while taking a sip of your champagne, eyeing the recent post of your own performance until the shadow of a person steals your attention.

“We need to go, now!” Your manager says before snatching your wrist, pulling you along as drops of liquid splash out of the glass.

“M/n? What the hell?” You gasp as you’re caught off guard, almost tripping over your own dress while she forces you to rush to the dressing room.

You yank your arm out of her grip before glaring at her.

“M/n! What is going on? Why have you been so on edge tonight?” She quickly gathers all of your stuff as you stare at her with disbelief. She pauses, failing to look at you.

“L-look. I’ll explain everything later. We just need to get out of Japan right now.”

“Wait a minute. I thought we were staying for a few days.” Your tone shifted to concern. “What’s wrong, M/n? Did something happen?” She drops the makeup supplies before turning to you and gripping your arms.

“I told you, Y/n! I will explain everything later, but right now we don’t have much time! We need to leave, now!” You gaze at her with shock along with fear as you become nervous by her own look of terror. Sweat sliding along the lining of her forehead along with her eyeliner slightly smeared with red eyes.

What the fuck is going on?

“Oh? What’s the rush? The party was just getting started.” A smooth voice says with amusement behind you. You watch as your manager’s eyes widened before you turned to meet your gaze with three men. Your eyes met a familiar purple though the rest of the features were slightly different, the purple mullet being the most prominent as well as the matching tattoo you saw on the male earlier. You guessed this man to be the other owner of the club, Haitani Rin.

Standing to his right is a man with golden eyes, blonde strands falling over his face along with his black hair pulled into a neat ponytail. His expression was light, holding a smile that you could mistake for politeness. He placed his hands in his pockets after shutting the door behind them. To the Haitani’s left is a man with narrowed blue eyes that seem to pierce into your soul, his pink mullet shaped perfectly around his beautiful features. Your gaze shifts to the scars placed at the corners of his mouth, furrowing your brows before you take in the situation at hand.

“What’s going on, M/n?” You side eye her as you watch her eyes widen. Her lips slightly apart as she tries to think of something to say.

“That was a beautiful performance, Y/n. Fitting for such a gorgeous woman.” The blonde says as he approaches, holding a hand out. The tiger in black ink on his neck added to the intimidating aura that contrasts with the expression on his face. He mimics Ran, bringing your limp hand to his lips while gazing into your eyes. A look of such intensity that you had to look away.

“Thank you…” You pause in expectance.

“Kazutora.” You nod with a polite smile before shifting your gaze to the others.

The tension in the room has yet to disappear. You couldn’t really focus on anything else but how scared your manager looks right now.

“M/n. It’d be in your best interest to follow us. The King wants to speak to you.” The pink haired one says, a look of satisfaction crossed his face when he states ‘the King,’ which causes you a little confusion by the title.

Kazutora takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you along as you look behind to glance at your manager with a questioning look. You all walk out of the dressing room and through the hall. The only sounds being your heels clicking and their speech, nothing you could decipher because of the differing language.

“Surprised she’d be Mikey’s type.” Rin says to the other men.

“No kidding. Who knew a famous babe from Y/c would catch his eye?” Kazutora says while glancing at you.

“There’s a lot you two don’t know about Mikey.” The pink haired man replies.

“Hm, I guess you’re right Sanzu. Wonder how long it’ll take before blood sheds tonight.” Kazutora rubs his chin.

“Can’t wait to find out.” Sanzu smirks.

You turn back to glance at your manager who looks as though the color on her face has disappeared.

I hope I find out what’s going on with her.

You all arrive upstairs, walking down a hall before being met with an office. When you walked in, you noticed the other men who sat on the balcony with Ran, standing around the desk facing the entrance. Ran also in position though sitting in a chair next to the desk in the spacious room. A man with pale hair sits behind the desk with a sweater hanging off of his shoulders, dark eyes gazing into yours as Kazutora removes his arm and leads you to your seat. Your manager sits beside you on another chair, along with Rin standing by her side and Kazutora standing by yours, everyone facing the platinum haired male. Sanzu takes position beside the short man, standing by his chair with his hand holding the other.

You felt on edge, seven pairs of eyes focused on you, all the while silence filled the room. You turn in your seat to look at the blocked entrance, some other broad men blocking the door. Your eyebrows furrowed as the room seemed to get colder, turning back in your seat as you faced the mystery man.

“Speak.” His narrowed eyes meet your manager’s.

She hesitates as you watch her shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her chest rises as she takes a shaky breath in before exhaling.

“U-um, I…” She stammers, fingers trembling against the arm of the chair. You stay quiet, concerned with her behavior as your own body glistens with sweat from stress. You shift in your seat, straightening your back as you cross your ankles, your legs fidgeting as you feel the butterflies in your stomach.

“You tried to leave? And so soon?” He questions, his expression stoic as his eyes bore into your manager’s. Her hands move to her lap as her foot taps against the ground.

“U-uh, no. No I didn’t.” She breathes out.

“I think you did. Didn’t she?” They all responded with “Yes Boss.” Before silence falls once more.

“Why?” M/n’s mouth shuts as she tries to think of something. You could only guess that she was nervous because of whatever business title the men hold so you decide to speak up for her.

“We’re grateful for the opportunity, really. It’s just been a long night.” You explain, only causing some of the men to chuckle at the naivety. Your eyebrows furrow in irritation. “Okay, what the hell is really going on?”

M/n looks at you with wide eyes before holding her hands up and shaking her head.

“Y-Y/n, I’ll explain later, just give me some ti…”

“No, tell me right now why everyone is acting so weird. Stop wasting time.” You growl, sick of the antics and the vague conversations.

The man looks at you for a moment before nodding to Rin. To your surprise he pulls out a gun just as M/n hops out of her seat causing the chair to fall backwards. She runs to the entrance only for him to hold the weapon up, shooting the gun. The bullet penetrates her back, causing her to fall over, a shriek leaving her lips as the throbbing pain fills her senses. You jump out of your seat in shock, eyes staring at the blood staining her attire while she lays her head on the floor.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, heading to the bleeding girl only to get pulled against a chest, arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your feet off the ground.

“You said to stop wasting time!” Kazutora laughs as the rest look on in amusement to the woman losing consciousness.

“Y/n! I-I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I had no choice! I had no choice!” She weeps, hand smacking against the floor as she covers her head with her arm. “I’m so sorry.” She whimpers.

“What are you talking…! Let me fucking go! She needs to go to the hospital!” You yell, beating Kazutora’s arms as you try to pry them off, kicking your feet.

Sanzu walks to the woman lying on the ground. Setting a foot to the wound before pressing down, causing a strangled gasp to come out of her mouth. You struggle harder as you watch him point a gun to her head from above.

“Explain yourself.” He growls, smiling wide with crazed eyes.

“I-I sold you! I s-sold… you! It’s… *gasp* all in their…*pant* hands!” She weeps, “I h-ha… *grunt* had no choice!” Her own nails pierce her palms as she turns her hands to fists, squeezing in pain as he continues to press his weight down.

You could only stare in silence as you paused your struggling.

“T-they’re a… a gang! A *pant* criminal….organization! Th-they…*grunt* threaten…!” She screams out in agony once Sanzu pulls his leg up and slams his foot down on her wound. You wince as you begin to struggle again.

“Let her go!” You were angry with her, yes. However, if the truth is that they threatened her, you couldn’t help but empathize despite your lingering resentment. Your only focus was to get both of you out of here alive. You wondered where your guards were.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sanzu smiles before moving his foot off of her and cocking the gun, pulling the trigger. The bullet blasts half of her skull open. The sickening sound of blood splattering the floor causes you to gasp before you yell out, tears falling out of your eyes at the traumatic display.

“Hey, save those vocals for the bedroom, yeah?” Ran jokes before lighting a cigarette, some of the other men chuckling at his response.

“Let me go! Let me go, goddamnit!” You growl angrily, crying as Kazutora forces you to sit down.

He cocks his gun, bringing the barrel to your head while putting a finger over his lips. You eye him with a look of horror.

“Shh.” He starts. “Boss isn’t done talking.”

You pant as you hold your chest, staring back at their ‘boss’ who eyes you quietly. The room calms down once more as everyone takes their original positions, a gun still pressed to your head. He slides a form over for you to read. You lean in your seat and look over the sheet that confirmed your manager’s signature, signing you over to Bonten, a criminal organization residing in Japan.

“The contract doesn’t lie. During this term and all others, you are now the property of Bonten.”

You shook your head while whispering, “No.”

“I own you, Y/n. You can either fall in line willingly or by force. I don’t care. You’re mine.” He says before standing from his seat.

“Mikey.” He says to you before shifting his attention to the others. “Take her to Bonten’s headquarters.”

Kazutora hides his gun and grabs your arm as you struggle against his hold. Just as Mikey and Sanzu, along with some of the other men, head to the doorway, he says, “Knock her out if you have to.”

A breathy laugh is released from Kazutora before he pulls back a fist.

“Sorry, doll.”

Darkness immediately engulfs your vision.

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evilbihan · 2 months

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A guide to writing Tomáš

This is a Bi-Han centric blog, but I really want to talk about the mischaracterization of Tomáš too because it irks me to no end and I believe he deserves better. Not to mention that most of his mischaracterization usually comes at Bi-Han's expense as well.

Tomáš is not the sad, broken, overly sensitive crybaby the fandom likes to portray him as. Every time I see yet another version of the same fanart where poor Tomáš is bawling his eyes out and running into Kuai Liang's arms because Bi-Han was being "mean" to him, I immediately unfollow the artist. Tomáš is a grown man, it's disgusting how the fandom keeps babying him. Not to mention it's getting boring and on top of that, it's completely wrong characterization of both Bi-Han and Tomáš. In the scene where Bi-Han snaps at him, Tomáš barely even bats an eyelash. He looks confused and annoyed if anything, not heartbroken, and he certainly doesn't break down in tears either. Tomáš literally chose to talk back to Bi-Han, he's not afraid to say what he thinks, which is proven by the fact that he even confronts Liu Kang for letting his family die. Tomáš is courageous and he stands up for himself. This man watched his entire family get murdered in front of him and chose not to let it haunt him. ("Their ghosts no longer haunt me.") Of all three Lin Kuei brothers, he's the one with the highest emotional maturity, choosing not to let emotions cloud his judgement, unlike Kuai Liang (blind anger/hatred) and Bi-Han (frustration). Tomáš is so much stronger than people give him credit for. He's not some damsel in distress that needs saving and he definitely doesn't need Kuai Liang to defend him, especially not from Bi-Han who respected Tomáš and his skills enough to let him join them for important missions when he had everyone else in the Lin Kuei at his disposal. It's awful how some fans deliberately paint Tomáš as weak and Bi-Han as cruel, so they can make Kuai Liang look better.

A lot of the traits that define Tomáš are usually taken away from him in fanfics and fanart and given to Kuai Liang instead. Tomáš is the loyal, brave and kind brother who wants peace above all else, who wants his brothers to reconcil, who is truly selfless and respectful, even towards some of his foes. Believe it or not, Tomáš is not the "soft" brother. He chooses to be kind and fans mistake it for weakness. Despite being angry at Bi-Han, Tomáš doesn't want vengeance against him. He wants his brothers to stop fighting, for Earthrealm's sake and because they're family. Tomáš might be the youngest of the brothers but he's wiser than them. He has seen enough death and bloodshed to know no one will come out of this war as a winner.

Tomáš used to idolize Bi-Han, not Kuai Liang. Bi-Han, who is known to be cold and ruthless. As I said before in another post I made, Tomáš is no less ruthless than his brothers. He is not sweet and innocent. Just like Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, he was trained to be a lethal and stealthy warrior. Even before joining the Lin Kuei, Tomáš was a hunter. He grew up in a family of hunters. Listen to his taunts at the end of each round and the way he giggles while performing one of his fatalities. Tomáš enjoys hunting, he enjoys the thrill of it.

There is no part of the story or any intros that indicate that Kuai Liang and Tomáš were ever close before their falling out with Bi-Han, but it is said that Tomáš used to admire Bi-Han. I don't know why the fandom made up the wholesome bond between Kuai Liang and Tomáš because of that one scene in which Kuai Liang conveniently tells Smoke that they're brothers because he needed him on his side. Kuai Liang doesn't even bother interrupting when Bi-Han reprimands Tomáš. He even questions Smoke's resolve. What brought them both closer are a few shared ideals, such as the wish to honor their father's legacy and continue their duty of protecting Earthrealm. Kuai Liang is now the only family Smoke has left, which is why he's doing everything he can to prove worthy of his trust. He calls himself the Shirai Ryu's second in command, he's the one who recruits Hanzo, he's supportive of everything Kuai Liang does and never contradicts him despite having different opinions than his brother, possibly out of fear of losing his family yet again.

Tomáš is a very curious and open-minded person. Unlike Bi-Han and Kuai Liang who are both equally disgusted by the idea of fame and stardom, Smoke seems eager to play a part in one of Johnny's movies when Johnny suggests giving him a role in a film he made. He's also the one reaching out to others to try and bond with them, to make friends. He tells Raiden that he wants to visit Fengjian, he asks other characters questions about themselves etc.

Tomáš is without a doubt traumatized from what he's seen and been through. Similar to Bi-Han in the previous timeline, Smoke is concerned that he's tainted by evil due to his nightmares about the Enenra. Ashrah reassures him that her kriss can't sense any evil, but there's a chance he might still become corrupted.

I hope this makes sense and will help writers and artists out there to portray Tomáš more accurately in their works. Too many people in the fandom have a wrong idea of who this character is.

#tomas vrbada #mk smoke #bi han #mk sub zero #kuai liang #mk scorpion #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #mk1 2023 #mk1

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randoimago · 3 months

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Since Astarion can't see his own reflection, I thought it'd be interesting to ask for a scenario where his painter!S/O surprises him with a hyper-realistic portrait of him that they made.

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion

Note(s): I wish there was a way to give him a painting or have him comment on the statue (if it was commissioned of him). I can just imagine the various ways he'd react depending on how his story goes.

Astarion

You mention you got him a present and he's already amused. Gives you a smile as he says something cheeky like, "Buying my affection with gifts? You know me well."

And then you show him the portrait and he just looks at it for a bit. Astarion is a bit confused as he takes in the face he doesn't recognize. Is it a character in some book he mentioned liking at some point? He's typically good at faces (he needed to know who to run and hide from, after all).

Then you explain that it's him. Astarion just stares at you for a few moments as he processes what he was just told. His eyes go back to the painting as he takes in the details of the face. He honestly doesn't know what emotions to feel. The fact that you put in some much effort for him has his heart skipping a beat. But the fact that it's taken him this long to see his face again.

Yes, he's had opportunities in the past with other artists, but it always felt too intimate with certain people. And with others, he was afraid that having a painting of himself would show him as the monster Cazador turned him into.

But your painting has none of that. His eyes look lighter than he thought. The smile on his face doesn't look as forced as his smile used to be.

"Oh shit." He'd suddenly say and look away as he feels his eyes getting watery. He doesn't want you to see how much this painting is affecting him. How much seeing his face in your eyes is affecting him. In the past, he would've made up some lie or some cheeky comment about his nose not being cute enough. But now that he has actual feelings? It's just a lot of emotions hitting him at once. Vulnerability is still something he struggles with showing, but he wipes his eyes and gives you a small smile.

"Thank you, my sweet," he'd murmur and move the painting aside before pulling you into a hug, holding you tight to his chest. Once he's gotten over the sudden burst of emotions that hit him, then he'd clear his throat and go back to his usual self. His eyes going to the painting as he hums in contemplation.

"Does my nose really look like that?"

Taglist: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion x reader

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fourswordsannotated · 6 months

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akira himekawa are unbelievably cool.

soooo here's the thing. i was looking at akira himekawa's website on a whim and found a public blog, with posts that go all the way back to 2009. many hours of google translating later, and i've developed an even stronger admiration of these two women and their exceptional career as manga artists. they share so much in these posts about the creative process, their thoughts on social justice, their connections with nature, and their most major original story, gliding reki, which seems to have always been a passion project in the midst of commercial work.

from what i could gather, reki is unique in that they were determined to do it in full color. and they did it, because after reading about their career, it's clear to me that when these women set their mind to an idea, they make it happen. see also: they just recently produced and distributed their own art book, because no publishers were offering to do it in a way that pleased them.

their stated goals for reki were to make something more adult than their previous children's manga, taking place in a city, involving a lot of mechanical art, and featuring stronger romantic and self-described erotic subtext. good for them. before i get into the four swords-related stuff, i'm sharing what i could find on the internet about reki.

more under the cut, because there's quite a bit to discuss :)

not much that i could find on the blog specifically references four swords, but they have many fascinating insights about nintendo, the zelda fandom, and the franchise as a whole. i can't know for certain because this information was surmised from translated text, but it seems as if their manga with chibi link made them feel a little stifled, which is why they took a long break before returning to do twilight princess. it's not lost on me that even a work like four swords, which they may regard as not their favorite or best, still has inspired and brought together so many passionate, creative, and diverse people. this is especially sweet because it seems as if they met each other, and formed their creative partnership, because of a shared fandom interest of their own.

honda and nagano have shared their thoughts and feelings on this blog for more than a decade, and they have a lot of thoughts and feelings. throughout their entire career they've made commentary on work-life balance, their experiences as women in a male-dominated field, and their desire to create original art while simultaneously enjoying some commercial work as well. they are passionate about social justice, particularly re: women and indigenous people, and offer insights on aspects of culture and history and the state of the world that really could resonate with anyone. and they really seem to appreciate fans of their work, and emphasize repeatedly the care and thought they put into their manga in the hopes it will inspire and bring catharsis to readers. they love animals (especially wolves), being outside in nature, being nerds about art they enjoy, a certain subgenre of romantic manga that appealed to and empowered female readers in the 90's and 2000's, and traveling around the world to partake in activities like horse riding and falconry.

the coolest part is, they're still updating the blog to this day :) in fact they seem to have recently returned to it, reflecting that twitter is not their preferred manner of sharing things online. they seem very familiar with and fond of older-school blogging culture.

there's a lot more i could say here about my findings, some of which do pertain to... certain ships 💜🖤 . but i don't want my genuine appreciation for these authors to be overshadowed by that kind of conversation. in addition to a link to the blog itself, i'm including a few translated posts of interests, which you can interpret and incorporate into your perception of the media however you please. at the end of the day, it's a really cool gift that these artists have chosen to share so much over such a long period of time. by making their personalities, beliefs, and insights more visible to fans of their work, i hope it brings new context to the stories we already love.

a modern-day insight:

re: the zelda mangas. these are from several points throughout their career. please note that they have so many fond things to say about zelda as a franchise and their work on the mangas, especially regarding the way they've affected fans. i encourage you to look for yourself, on their blog and their other socials!

re: gliding reki

re: the creative process (and in the latter two, the fandom that seems to have inspired them!)

re: their two goofyass adorable tiny dogs that they dress up in outfits while also loving wolves like a lot, they love wolves (both domesticated and wild), they really love wolves

re: wolf day (every day is wolf day,)

re: indigenous rights

re: painting serious works on commission vs their manga. i can't know for sure exactly what it means, but it really does kinda hit

re: a fan and manga artist in training bringing them art and a note

and a moment from a twilight princess manga interview i found very sweet :)

okay. you've made it to the end. i know you're wondering. here you go. please remember that this is and always has been a public blog, and these posts are actually from 2009 and 2010. also please remember that the point of this post is not to cause or fuel fandom discourse, but to appreciate these authors and the things that they choose to express.

(also, this is the column they were referring to in image 1. it's FASCINATING. give it a read if you'd like!)

the dots are there. you're welcome to connect them.

thank you for your beautiful work and insights, honda and nagano. please never change.

#akira himekawa #four swords manga #legend of zelda #four swords #loz #twilight princess manga #(yes there is v/dow stuff at the very bottom okay it's there just please read the rest)

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sister-lucifer · 1 year

Note

Hiya, hope you're having a pog day <3

I wanted to make a request if possible (also if you're comfortable with it, if not, feel free to ignore this ask!! no worries)

nsfw headcanons for Hoodie and Masky with a trans masc s/o (with top surgery scars)

Masky + Hoodie w/ a trans masc partner who has top surgery scars

Masky + Hoodie x Reader (separately)

Genre: Fluff + NSFW, headcanons

Content/warnings: There’s a lot of talk of reader’s body but it’s all positive, Tim is insecure about his scars, chest + tummy kisses, tooth rotting fluff AND some soft romantic NSFW 😌

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Sorry if you wanted like…hardcore nasty NSFW, this is really sweet 😔

Tim Wright/Masky

Although I don’t personally headcanon Tim as trans (though i definitely enjoy trans tim content 👌😋), he certainly has his fair share of scars

They’re mostly on his arms and hands

Some are from fights, others are from miscellaneous accidents, some have been there as long as he can remember and he’s not even sure where they came from

But theres one thing he knows for sure:

He HATES when people point them out

He can’t really explain it, he just hates having attention drawn to them

You may not feel the same way, but even if you say you don’t mind he’ll be careful not to point them out

That’s not to say you won’t catch him staring when he thinks you’re not looking, though

The scars just look so…natural, on you

Like they’ve always been there

He forgets that they’re scars, really

He’s not sure why he feels so different about scars on you than he does on him

The longer he’s with you the less he notices your scars anymore

And the less he notices his own too

Over time he becomes less insecure about them as he watches you not only live with but accept and maybe even embrace your scars

And there’s something he loves about being able to run his hand down your bare chest, the marks on his hand matching with your scars

Especially when he finds you in bed with him, climbing on top of him and straddling his lap

He cant stop himself from reaching out and pulling your shirt off, his large hands splaying out over your torso as he admires you, feeling your heartbeat thump behind your ribs

If your position allows him to see your chest, don’t be surprised if he can’t pull his eyes away

He’s not very talkative during sex, but he’s always sure to remind you how handsome you are

He knows sex can sometimes trigger dysphoria, and he doesn’t want you to forget that you’re his sweet boy, forever and always

You can thank him for the praise by taking one of his scarred hands and pressing a soft kiss to it, a silent reassurance that his feelings about you are not unrequited

Brian Thomas/Hoodie

Brian, on the other hand, is very vocal about how attractive he finds your scars

Although he’s got a few of his own, they’re generally not very noticeable

And even if someone did point them out, he’d simply laugh them off

So he feels comfortable telling you how much he loves your scars

They’re a reminder of how strong you are, he says

It’s not easy embracing your true trans self in this world, and you should wear your scars with pride

He’s got an artistic streak, so don’t be surprised if he asks to draw on them

He may even suggest getting a cool tattoo to emphasize them!

Like barbed wire or a flower chain or something

But if you don’t want that, he’s perfectly content simply being allowed to run his fingers over your scars

He’ll often absentmindedly begin tracing them whenever you’re laying together, sometimes not even realizing he’s doing it

He loves to kiss your chest too

He’s a romantic type, what can I say 🤷

He just loves to give your scars all the gentle attention they deserve, he can’t help it

Don’t be surprised if his hands find your scars as if they have a mind of their own, always wandering to your chest whenever you’re standing at the counter or sitting on the couch with him

And don’t be surprised if those wandering hands lead to more than just gentle touches

If you allow him his way during sex, he’ll always insist on having you on your back

He’ll pay extra attention to your chest, and i don’t just mean your scars (although they certainly aren’t ignored)

He’s much more vocal than Tim, a constant stream of praises and reassurances spilling from his mouth and he drones on and on about how handsome you are and how lucky he is to have such a beautiful boy like you to take care of

You’re an absolute beauty to him, and he’s going to make sure he tells you every chance he gets

Brian Thomas: The Dysphoria Miracle Cure

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ohposhers · 14 days

Note

AAAA UR SO COOL dude you're genuinely one of my favourite artists, you interact with the community so well and always try to stay positive when dealing with certain situations I ADMIRE YOU A LOT 💗💗 just thought I'd let u know 😼👍

GRAAAA THIS IS SO DAMN SWEET THANK YOU SO MUCH IM GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET AND ROLLING AROUND THE FLOOR AND BITING MY PHONE im genuinely so grateful i can make so many people happy with my goofy fanart, you guys fr inspire me to keep making trolls content this silly fandom on god helped me keep my head above water during a really tough point in my life and i owe you guys everything for that

#i wish i could thank every single person who leaves an ask like this in my inbox but then id be spamming everyone with 600+ posts #i read and keep all of them tho #ask eddie

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fairy-writes · 1 year

Note

Hello there 👋

I was wondering if you could write a one-shot for Uta?? Something fluffy w/ a shy/sweet human!reader 😊

Thanks in advance! 💜

DON’T YOU DARE (MAKE ME FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU)

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Gender Neutral!Human!Reader

Genre(s)/Tag(s):

Notes: Songfic with the song “Don’t You Dare (Make Me Fall in Love with You) by Kaden MacKay

__________________________________________________________________________

When Uta first realized he was in love with you, admittedly, he panicked a little.

You were a human. He was a ghoul. It wasn’t a relationship that was supposed to work.

He couldn’t be in love. That was just absurd. He had more exciting things on his plate than love.

Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare enchant me with those eyes

If I fell through your skies,

There's no way you would catch me

There's a tear in my heart,

But your patch wouldn't match me

Uta first met you when he was at Anteiku, and you happened to walk in. It was busy. Most, if not all, of the tables were full, and when you began to approach, he got an idea of what was happening.

“Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” You ask shyly, and he gets the feeling that you’re nervous. Which is understandable with his appearance. He was used to it.

He nods once, and your expression relaxes as you sit down. The tenseness of your shoulders eases, and you pull out a sketchbook and flip to a new page as Touka brings over your drink. You smile at her and whisper a “thank you.”

You sketch in silence until he feels the need to have a conversation. It’s more of a whim, really, the urge to get to know a human to learn if they’re all like the CCG and Doves.

“What are you drawing?” He asks, and you jump. But you turn around and show him nonetheless, and he’s blown away.

It’s rough, with stray lines in some places, but it’s a perfect picture of himself, reclining in the chair and his coffee in hand.

You even got the lettering of his tattoo around his neck right.

The longer he stares, the more fidgety you become.

“Sorry, I can get rid of it if you want. I know it might be rude to draw other people without permission—”

“No, no, it’s beautiful. Thank you for choosing me as a model.” He finds himself saying, and his cold heart flutters when you beam.

You end up gifting him the picture, and after you exchange names, you leave.

He finds your number hastily scrawled at the bottom of the drawing.

Being near you still adds to the size of my sighs,

There's still seismic events at hellos and goodbyes,

And I still need reminders of why it's unwise

To stare

So don't you dare

The longer he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of you becoming friends. You’re shy, but you’re sweet and a brilliant artist. You would be entertaining, at least.

But he’s likely never to meet you again, so that idea snuffs out like a candle. So he doesn’t text you.

At least until you walk into his shop.

You are admiring one of his masks on display when he enters the room from the back. He had heard the door jingle but wanted to finish some of the final stitching of the current mask he was working on. It was for the new half-ghoul Kaneki Ken. But that was beside the point.

What were you doing here?

Don't you dare make me fall in love with you

Don't you dare do something so cliché

Just get out of my daydreams,

You're an unwelcome guest

And stop making me miss you

'Cause you leaving's for the best

You look up as he comes in, and confusion brightens your eyes.

“Uta?” You ask, and he nods,

“That’s me. Welcome to HySy ArtMask Studio.” He says, more out of habit than anything. You offer him a smile, and he finds his heart trembling at the sight.

What was wrong with him?

“I heard there was a mask studio that could offer a lot of inspiration. I didn’t know you owned it.” You comment as you cradle your sketchbook against your chest. Your pencil is stuck behind your ear, and you’re dressed in a thick knit sweater and trousers. Your boots scuff against the floor.

He finds himself gesturing to the masks.

“Make yourself at home.” He says, genuinely meaning it.

'Cause I just couldn't stand having you as my crutch

You're a simmering stovetop I was tempted to touch

If you ever return, it'll burn me too much

To bear

So don't you dare

After the initial text, you are really the only one keeping up the conversation. Sure, Uta replies, but he keeps a certain amount of distance between you two. Mainly for your safety.

But for whatever reason, you keep coming back.

Your presence becomes a regular in his shop. You come every Friday, right after your university classes. Even though you are his age, if not a year younger, you say you are working toward your bachelor’s degree in—you guessed it—art.

You say you want to open your own shop and sell your artwork.

Much like him.

And I know it's all so shallow, but a shallow cut still stings

And before my heart becomes Amelia's heir, I need to clip its wings

So don't you dare keep mocking me with those

Thousand little things that I adore

Let me ignore you, don't let me care

He tries to ignore you the closer you two become.

For your safety.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

And don't you dare leave me still in love with you

Nothing's fair when love is war

And I just can't endure any more of the fight

When the casualties rise with my heart rate each night

At first, Uta thinks he’s dying. Of course, that would explain why you always make his heart race and his blood run hot.

That would explain why you’re always on his mind.

Right?

Though I know I'm to blame for the glances I'd steal,

For the time I kept spending pretending it's real

And now that it's ending, I still have more feelings to spare

But don't you dare

It takes a talking to from Yomo for him to realize what’s going on.

Don't you dare

When Uta first realized he was in love with you, admittedly, he panicked a little.

But he doesn’t hate the idea.

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul x reader #tokyo ghoul uta #tokyo ghoul uta x reader #tokyo ghoul re #tg uta #tg uta x reader #tg #uta x reader #uta x you #uta tokyo ghoul #uta tokyo ghoul x reader #fairy writes

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accio-victuuri · 2 months

Text

February CPNs

hello! it’s that time of the month again that i compile the sweets brought to us by the boys! this month started out very quiet but in this fandom will mean that things will take a turn in the next week/s. you just never know what will happen next. i have added some commentary here on certain incidents that i didn’t talk about separately on my blog to have “bonus content” for this round-up.

• XZ’s GQ cover and collaboration sweets + additional ones connected to fake rumor

• not really cpn, but our boys continue to make it in the weibo hot search trend report - i still hate sina weibo but i understand how it’s relevant for them.

• XZ’s wedding suit from the AV festival. yes, this was made for him but we just had him wear that white backless wedding suit by jacquemus for GQ and now this? hmmmm. me thinks he has a preference? lol. he prefers white and that’s fine, but the choice of what looks like a wedding suit is 👀. i am on standby, let me see if this continues.

pair it off with WYB! and it’s perfect. tho i would prefer it if they are both in white. 🤍

• xzs has the same caption as a cpf

• yibo’s watch and gg’s GQ props connection the number 91 and 3.

• chinese new year candies - gg’s weibo post, wyb’s red envelope cover clues etc

• rufeng shares new thailand fm rehearsal footage

• tencent video posting their new year vcr so close together! they could have easily posted it one after the other but maybe they didn’t want some solo fan drama. i’m happy that bobo continues to collab with 10c, and ZZ is not exclusive to 10c anymore— so hopefully this means in the future they can work on a project together <3

• clowning over XZ’s song in spring festival gala as you wish + same composer as wyb’s singles and how wyb was listening to a song from this artist lately.

• this parallel between their looks. it’s not just their characters that match each other, but their outfits from certain events. so classy!

but i think this one is the best. seeing them get recognition for their acting in the past few months has been very rewarding. all the hard work and challenges are bearing fruit. remembering them talking about wanting to become professional actors and really take that path — studying and dreaming together. now here we are 🫶🏼

• a cute tidbit, but the cat xz is playing with is called xiao wang. that’s because on it’s back looks like the character for wang! what a coincidence!!!! 🥹

• Bottled Joy stirring the CPN pot again by posting this on 2/13. As You Wish. The context of the post is that, as you wish — fans can get these wallpapers and photos of Bobo. but it’s a coincidence cause it’s the english title of the song GG sang @ BRTV Spring Festival Gala. 👀 the colors too, white and silver which is the same color combination of GG’s outfit. This may be meh to some, but knowing Bottled Joy’s cpn history, you can’t blame us.

• Golden Hour and Eason Chan songs @ yibo’s playlist

• Small weekend roundup - includes mention of asian pop magazines where the boys are both mentioned, supplement to xz using tickets for his spring festival photos last year as support of bobo’s movie and the phone card case appears.

• Rumor of Wang Yibo being in Hengdian - one / two / three ( i feel like this one is up there with the leica camera and gg’s bday cpn but this one is more risky on their part. as i have said in my posts, what is important is they are safe and happy. it’s their personal life. their relationship is between the two of them. as cpfs, we should be protecting them and not be people they are wary of. if we are not careful, we are no different from ss and yxh. )

• On 2/20, Yuehua & YBO have posted about the slander recently going around related to WYB and that they have reported it to the police. This went really high on HS and was widely talked about, even Du Hua reposted and reacted to it. Hours later, XZS has posted their own reminder to fans in relation to people disturbing his drama filming. What made it more important is that XZ reposted it too and put in a very firm reminder to everyone.

to give some context, the horrible rumor regarding WYB was spread around by mostly XZ fans. There was a melon that said “X” has STD and then toxic people started saying it’s WYB ( cause toxic xz fans doesn’t want it linked to XZ because of the clue given so they throw it to WYB. i know it sounds stupid, but it’s actually a common tactic done by both sides ) and even fabricated some photos. another actor, xukai was also implicated and he also reported to the police.

so this can be read by so/os as XZ&XZS trying to cover up for the toxic solos and what they did. i get why other people will think that and i personally wanted them to address the bad things his solos do. however i also understand why xz and his team can’t “betray” the solo fans. that’s just how it goes. however, in cpf interpretation, this is XZ’s way of taking away the heat from wyb and a way of putting a stop to the conversations about that horrible lie. it worked in a way that it went on HS, but not as high as WYB’s. I was also surprised that XZ reposted it himself. i am aware that the leaks and everything else is a serious issue and XZ is someone who hates being a bother to the crew. but he usually doesn’t do this. he usually leaves it to XZS or the drama account. This tells me that he personally wants to lend his name and his weibo account, to get more of the heat. The last line he said can also be a message to his toxic so/os: respect others and respect yourself.

• On 2/20, there were tarot readings some BXGs have enjoyed. One is this that is a new year CP reading done on 2/4. What made fans 👀 are:

1. this card, where OP said it’s them being hand in hand and don’t get tired of each other. and in the background is a sacred building, which symbolizes them having a vow to each other.

more cpn was added into it when GG did MFW and people realized not to take this literally cause it could be representing the Duomo.

2. Here is the part that was v interesting to cpfs cause this person gave a prediction that followed what we cpn and happened in the next couple of days.

The two of them haven’t had many official activities recently. So from February 4th, there is a chance for the two of them to meet each other in the past few days. And as soon as the two of them meet, they won’t be going out. Yibo knows he is active but he will close up and be willing to hide at home for XZ.

this is so close to what we speculated! that they spent a quiet cny break together. 🥹🥹🥹

3. Next one is so on point it’s scary cause i have already discussed the bad rumor going around and was directed at WYB before this entry. OP was sort of right. tho i don’t know it this will be another hateful rumor, i hope not.

My prediction is that it will be in March 2024, around this time, I feel that WYB will have a a force of public opinion surrounding him. It's unfriendly to him. This power of public opinion including but not limited to WYB. If we use the 8 of Swords to understand the external environment, it is a relatively sharp. There is some public opinion about the two of them that may cause some trouble

If something happens to WYB, XZ will immediately rise up and have to rush out to protect him. XZ will work hard behind the scenes silently in his own way and are some practical actions.

I don’t think i need to further explain. It fits what happened in 2/20. 👁️👄👁️

4. WYB’s resources for 2024 will be very good. In the first quarter, the number of resources was not very large but the quality of the resources is very good. Then the Queen of Pentacles in the third quarter. In the fourth quarter, the Queen of Cups.

For context: The Queen of Pentacles, therefore, depicts a certain level of success and prosperity. But the rabbit at the bottom cautions us that we should be careful of where we leap when we are chasing that success. Queen of Cups - Generally speaking, this is a positive card for both career and finances, suggesting you're "in tune with yourself, have a good work-life balance going on, and overall a positive job experience.

The reading is close to 1 hour long and I just can’t translate it all so i’m going off what CPFs are highlighting.

• XZ’s pre Milan flight Gucci & camcorder cpn

• Fake Rumors : getting caught kissing / spending time during CNY

• XZS first post in Milan is the invitation given to XZ by Tod’s for the show. Those who had the same time as Milan saw the actual time stamp which is 1823. A beloved kadian number!!!!!

• xz’s collar and whole look for GUCCI MFW gave us so many thoughts. lol. i know sexualization of the boys is a complicated issue in the fandom but when things like this happen — how can we stop? lol. no. but seriously. it is what it is.

• checking their fingernails + similar pose to HB

• a comment that implies xz went to zhuhai with wyb to ride a motorcycle

• their photos match so well. 🌅

from zz’s post in milan. it’s filled with the elements they love like the moon and a beautiful sunset background. gg was also showing off his re web shoes which is of course, because he is a gucci ambassador and all that but the “web” cpn is getting stronger. however, i am personally losing my mind over the implications in the caption he used.

• clues in zz’s mfw interviews, matching talismans on their phone cases and similar ads for shu uemura & loreal

• 8 fake rumors from CQL shoot/era that i posted about 📝

• A place CPFs landmark lol

• spotted same mannerism! twins ☺️☺️☺️☺️

see you all next month for another round up of sweetness! just continue to support the boys and ignore the toxic moves of irrelevant people. fandom is supposed to be fun and a safe space so i hope we all fight to keep that love & peace here 🫶🏼

#bjyx #yizhan #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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weirdoartsy · 2 months

Text

DTIYS

"two sides of a coin"

DTIYS of Leo and Mikey, in the lost ruins of new york city

Context: Freshly after Donatello's death Leo is always on missions, even before his two brothers death he was always on the Front Lines but now all he cares about is fighting. Casey wanted his sensei's attention and thus would try to join them but he was still too young(16) in sensei's eyes and was not willing to risk the future of the resistance and one of the only reasons he is still alive. One day he sneaks out onto the field and the krang finds him, therefore kidnapping the poor fella. Leo after finding out goes to save him and Mikey joins not wanting his brother or his nephew to die making this a "journey of the ronin's"

HEYYYYYY YOU GUYS, GUESS WHAT? I FINALLY HAVE ART FOR MY APOCALYPTIC AU "JOURNEY OF THE LAST RONIN'S" AND I WANT YOU GUYS TO ALSO DRAW IT!!!!

@donniesbrows my dearest brows, I told you I would @ you! Gnat is a very good artist and a big fan of rottmnt like myself! She is also one of my dearest friends on here and I want you all to support her as much as you guys can🙏

@friskyeee Frisk is also one of my dearest friends. She is also an incredible artist and super sweet person. She is not as funny as me but a funny person! I'd love it if you guys also support her!!

@the-hombrearana this lil guy is the bestest friend irl and online! Just a lil annoying heh but! Alas if you like spiderman rp this guy is your best friend in that regard! Please support him as much as you wish🙏🙏🙏

@drawingbakeryy You- YOU LITTLE! Anyways this fella is one of three ultimate inspirations She is an incredible person and artist she was one of the first friends I made in this account, please follow and ANNOY them as much as you humanly can 😌

@tapakah0 My TOP inspiration ON TOP! Tapa while she might not remember this she was one the first people to comment on my first account when I made a post on how I was being dragged into the rottmnt fandom and she really made my days so much brighter whenever she posted! Please support her on this account and on her other account @somerandomcockroach

@somerandomdudelmao this fella was the catalyst to my addiction. A true comic artist unparalleled! She is honestly an incredible person who deserves every follow she has and more! She and tapa brighten my day plenty. Please support this account and her other one! @keferon

Here's the unedited version of the DTIYS!

In case you want a clearer version just In case!

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt art #rottmnt casey jr #rottmnt mikey #mikey hamato #casey jr #rottmnt fanart #rise mikey #rottmnt casey junior #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rise leonardo #leonardo hamato

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 7 months

Text

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

Read on Ao3

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

Fandom: The Last of Us

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

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

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

Words: 7,139

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

My masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take the rest of the day off.”

“I’m good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s this?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll take those.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks."

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

"Can I see that?"

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

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

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

He hums in agreement as he studies the picture.

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

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

"I can come by tonight after work."

You meet his soft gaze and nod.

"Yeah, okay."

///

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

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

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

"The same."

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

"Are we going out?"

"I need fresh air."

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

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

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

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

"Did you build houses before?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I do."

"Good, honest work, huh?"

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

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

"Yes. Yes, it is."

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

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

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

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

"You too."

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

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Joel blinks.

"You're not going to draw me?"

"It's too dark."

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

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

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

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

"Your hands hurtin'?"

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

You take a step back, towards the kitchen.

"Want a cup of tea?"

"Sure. Thanks."

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

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

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

"You're welcome."

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

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

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

"Waste of paper."

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

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

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

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

"I'm done."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feebly, you try to pull back your hands.

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

"Don't care."

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

Who is Joel to you, anyway?

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

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

"Joel?" you prompt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your cheeks flush violently when you pull at his hand.

"You can try again?"

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Creaky, but they still carry me."

"Tea?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You think they're any good?"

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

"I made them."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Unlikely."

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

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

"What are you doin'?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to hear you want me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"In your pants?"

"Bedroom, then?"

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

"Hold on."

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

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

"Much better."

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

"Ouch!"

"Fuck!"

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

"Maybe we should take it slow?"

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

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

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

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

"Darlin'?"

You blink, and meet his wry, amused smirk.

"You with me?"

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

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

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

"Lemme try that."

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

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

"Yeah?"

"M-hmm. Hold on."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Me too."

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

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

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

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

"Don't wanna hurt you."

"Just get me wet, Joel."

"You're plenty wet already."

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

"Relax, darlin'."

"I'm trying."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, use it on me."

His brow rises quizzically. You push his hand down.

"Fuck me with it, Joel."

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckle huskily and pass your hands over your face.

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

"I wouldn't bet on it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Perfect."

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

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

"Glad it did."

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

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

"It really was perfect."

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

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

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

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs with a little sound, forehead smoothed out.

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

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

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

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

"Just stay still."

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

You know how you want to draw him now.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfic #my fic

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mstrickster · 3 months

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What's a secret talent that each side of your ships have? Like, is one of them good at card tricks or is secretly a really good artist?

Batfam:

This fandom was very hard because most of these people are super people. Therefore, They are good at a lot of things, it’s kinda apart of the job. The secret part was what threw me.

Jayroy: It may be just me, but I feel like Jason can play an instrument really well. Now I am not talking a guitar or something rock related. I am talking a violin or piano. I say this because It probably had to take a little bit to enroll him in school or in a nearby school. So, I could see him being at home for a little bit and just bored out of his little mind. However, he is a resourceful kid so he soon found the library. And because Wayne Manor is Wayne Manor, they probably have a piano or some other instrument in the library. They’re just that extra. That or Jason was extremely bored home alone and asked Alfred if he could teach him something. So, Alfred taught him to bake and to play the violin. For Roy I feel like his secret talent would be singing. Especially since nobody probably expects it. However, I could just see him singing a lullaby to Lian and just having the best voice. There are only a few people in his life that I’ve ever heard him sing besides her. Jason probably and I could see Dinah also being someone who he sung for. As well as a few members of the Teen Titans. Probably not the guys because they would rag on him, but Donna and Kori would be super sweet about it.

JonDami: This one was a hard one because of Damian. He was very forthcoming with his talents when he entered Bruce's life. I can’t see Damian ever hiding his talents. That is unless it’s something that he thinks his family would shame him for. Especially with Dick and Bruce, Damien really strives for their approval. So, I can’t see him doing things they don’t approve of without hiding them. Now I don’t believe he would ever do anything truly terrible because he is a hero. However, I can see him doing risky things that they wouldn’t approve of. Like he is very good at daredevil activities. So, his hidden talent would probably be an extreme sport or activity. I could see him being a rock climber. One of those climbers that will try to one up themselves all the time. To the point where he’s hanging off a cliff trying to get to the top of a mountain. It isn’t truly dangerous because he does have Superboy on speed dial so to speak. However, Bruce and Dick would be horrified. Jon is hard as well. However, after some thinking I could see his secret talent being something involving speaking. His parents are news reporters, so he is very eloquent. Also, his mother is Lois Lane so I could see him being very good at debating. He would use his reporter skills to dig up information and he would just annihilate his opponent. His mother would be so proud.

Timberkon: For this trio I think they are very multitalented. Mainly because there are three of them. For Bernard, I can see him being a master hustler. He is so good at bluffing and playing dumb. He doesn’t even need someone to support him, he can make do just by playing other people. The funniest thing is no one believes that he is doing it on purpose. For Kon I can see him being a baker. He is being raised by Ma and Pa Kent, so he probably gained those secret family recipes. He got recipes that only Clark, Ma and he knew. He can also taste a dish and tell you what it needs just from taste. For Tim this was a hard one because I don’t think he is the most guarded out of the group. However, after some thought I think he would do really well at gaming. Any kind of gaming. He strikes me as the type of person that can break down a game to its core elements and beat it easily.

Birdflash: I keep hoping these will get easier as I go on however, they just keep getting harder and with that intro let’s talk about Dick. Now he is the oldest child so he is probably very good at a lot of things. However, I am going to base what I think is secret talent is on his upbringing. Due to the fact that he grew up in a circus I feel like his secret talent would be crafting or like resourcefulness. Dick strikes me as the type of person who could MacGyver his way out of any situation. He is quick on his feet and is usually thinking one step ahead. Also given his upbringing he could also be a survivalist. I know this doesn’t make sense in the DCeased universe but that’s what I’m going with. Moving on let’s talk about one of my favorite speedsters. Wally is a hard one because again he doesn't strike me as anyone that would feel the need to hide their talents. Not because he’s overconfident like Damian but more because he just doesn’t see a reason to hide them. However, if he did have one that he wanted to hide I feel like it would be something useful. Therefore, I think his secret talent is sewing. I say this because I feel like his clothes would get ripped and torn and worn down a lot because of how fast he runs. Therefore, he would need to know how to mend them at any given time. I know he has Iris but she’s not always available, so I feel like he had to learn it to just help himself out. That or I could see him knowing how to cobble and fix shoes for the same reason.

StephCass: For Stephanie I feel like this is not so much a hidden talent as it just is unexpected. For me I think her hidden talent is her intelligence. She is probably so much smarter than everybody thinks. Now I say this because first of all her best friend is either Tim or Barbara. Now I’m not saying you have to be smart to have a smart best friend. However, I feel like Tim and Barbara were drawn to her for her quick thinking and smart mind. Also, her father is a super villain, she has to be intelligent to know how to stop him. However, it is a hidden talent because she’s often overshadowed by those that more openly show their intelligence. Despite her upbringing Cass strikes me as a very gentle soul. Therefore, I could see her secret talent being something that is helpful to animals or plants. I would go with gardening. Her skills in seeing things the way she does would be super helpful in plant parenting. She also could find it a nice break from her other more strenuous hobbies. Also, it is cute to imagine Alfred noticing her skills and setting up a little plot for her outside.

The Mighty Ducks:

Banksway: So, I want to start with Charlie. I could see his secret talent being cooking or baking. He probably had to cook a lot as a kid if Casey was taking a night shift. Therefore, I could see him developing his true skill with it. However, it’s not something he really focuses on so people don’t realize that he’s actually good at it. I feel like Adam is the one who’s good at cards. I say this because he probably had to attend a lot of stuffy events growing up. Where his only entertainment would be something small like a deck of cards. I could see him playing with his siblings and just destroying them. He likes to play dumb though, so people don’t think he’s good at all. That is except for poker he cannot play poker to save his life.

Gerreau: Guy is the fashion expert of the group. He has a way of putting together outfits that are just so perfect. He strikes me as a person to be able to look at somebody and knowing the event they are attending and find the perfect outfit in no time flat. In fact, in the future, he probably is Connie’s stylist because he’s just that good. Connie strikes me as somebody who is very good at a lot of things. So, I could see her hidden talent being something that she is able to use to benefit herself. Therefore I would say it's probably either public speaking or speed reading. We know she goes on to be a senator and both of these would extremely benefit her job.

Tammy/Fulton: Fulton strikes me as a craftsman. Like he likes to work with his hands. He is probably very good at making things from furniture to like little knickknacks. Like I could see him having a workshop at home where he works on his construction layouts as well as other projects. For Tammy I feel like she would be very good in a fight. Like she strikes me as somebody who understands how her body moves and could take down somebody twice her size. Like you want her on your side in a bar fight.

Wudoza: This is another one that was hard to think about. I could honestly see Kenny being the one who can do magic tricks. He strikes me as kind of an only child and my headcanon is he actually lives with his grandparents. Therefore, I could see him picking up magic as something to do when he was bored. It’s also a positive way to fuck with people without the risk of them getting mad at you because it’s magic how can they get mad at you for magic. Now I chose Luis’ hidden talent just because I think it would be funny. Even though he can’t stop I feel like he would be very good at balancing. Like unless he’s directly running into something I feel like he’s very good at keeping himself upright. He could probably also rock a balance beam. Again, I don’t have any backing for this I just think it’s funny.

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