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muniimyg · 7 months

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LIKE YOU CARE // KTH

sometimes, you wish he would just confess

taehyung can't help but act on his jealousy. you can't help but wonder when he'll ever grow up

navi | m. list | ask me! |

pairing: jealous taehyung + oc (ft. wooshik)

au/genre:

situationship au

one shot

implied smut

warnings:

jealousy

frustrating situationship feels

note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @heem145 @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

Almost abruptly, he enters the washroom and shuts the door behind him. His eyes are completely fixated on yours, yet his gaze is so unfamiliar to you. It looks urgent. It looks needy. Like second nature, he locks the door behind him and takes a deep breath in.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung takes a step towards you and you take a moment to look into his eyes and you see it easily.

Jealousy.

Is it toxic to say how much this has become your favourite part of him?

“I don’t know.. Did I say a punchline?” you ask a little dumbfounded. Though you can tell that he isn’t in the mood to play dumb—which is a first—you love to push his buttons.

He places his hands on your waist, pushing you against the sink counter. God, he’s so close to you that you can smell the mix of his cologne and sweat. You can’t help but lift his chin and place kisses from behind his ear down to his collarbones. You know he won’t be able to resist you. Not when you act like this. Not when you show him how bad you want him.

“Miss me?” you ask him softly. “Mad at me?”

He huffs.

You kiss him once on his lips and finally ask; “want me?”

Taehyung lets out a shakey moan in response. Without warning, you brush your hand against his area and fumble with the zipper. Taehyung tries to focus on the smell of your hair or the smell of your girly body wash instead if his fucking dick.. But you’re wearing his favourite perfume. It’s the same one you wore when you two first met—how could he forget such a scent? Yet, the scent that consumed him entirely is the scent of you.

Just you.

And he hates it.

He hates how it’s practically covered up by whatever cheap cologne the other guy was wearing. Taehyung tries to focus on you. The prettiest girl here. The girl that’s kissing his neck but he can’t—he just feels so off. How do you do this to him? How do your sweet kisses feel against his skin not enough right now? How could only you get him this excited and annoyed at the same time? What was happening to him? He’s not used to this.

In all honesty, Taehyung has never had to worry about other competitors. Regardless if he was in a talking stage, situationship, or a full-on established relationship—he never had to worry about this.. Or perhaps, he never truly cared if he lost or won the girl.

He cares now.

He cares about you.

He knows it because suddenly, he’s picturing it. How other guys were all over you just moments before this. How his eyes darted over to you the moment he heard your laugh echo in the crowd. It made his ears turn red from anger and his ego hurt. It fractured his self-esteem and lit the question: is he enough for you? Because if he was… You wouldn’t feel entertained by other guys, right? Or were you just playing with him? Were you just toying with his feelings for you? To be fair, he never knew how deep they were for you until tonight.

So, okay.

Fine.

You win.

“___, you’re such a bitch.” Taehyung mumbles as his hands find their way to tug on the hem of your skirt. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Excuse me?” you laugh, pulling away from him. Maybe you could connect the dots more easily if he gave you more context. What was he saying? Taehyung? The man that’s known to be so confident even in his failures… Is he insecure right now? Over what?

You want to ask. You want to play dumb. You want to explore each reaction he could give you.. But you have a gut feeling that he isn’t in the mood to play games. His signature possessive energy feels off. It’s like he’s scared.

A part of him is.

He’s too much of a coward to admit how he truly feels.

Though he had been a lot more demanding with the hookups lately and rather clingy after them—something in you did not expect this kind of behaviour from the campus dream boy. Taehyung had gotten attached and you knew it.

Tonight was proving exactly that.

He had feelings for you and you knew it. It’s safe to say that you’ve noticed it for a while now and it only made it more difficult not to make the assumption. You only play dumb for his sake. It’s to spare his ego and place the ball in his court.

The truth is if he wants you; he could have you. He just had to ask. But he doesn’t. Instead, he plays the game like a childish high school boy. So, you’ll wait.

You’ll wait until he’s man enough to use his words instead of acting like this.

“That try-hard—”

“His name is Wooshik. Baby, isn’t he in a bunch of your classes? Aren’t you guys in the same friend group as— “

“That kid was literally after you—”

“He’s older than you.”

“That’s even worse,” he says rather sharply. “He was probably looking for someone to fuck and chuck—”

You giggle, interrupting him. “Are you kidding me? He looks so soft and cute! It’s like perfect boyfriend aesthetic—”

“He didn’t even have the decency to ask if you’re even seeing someone!”

There it is.

It spills out from his lips like he had been holding it all in. He stares at you blankly when he realizes what he said.

“Am I seeing someone?”

“Whose in front of you right now, ___?” Taehyung answers unimpressed. “Look, it’s not that deep.. It’s just.. You said it would be okay that we’d start talking to each other at parties but you didn’t even last a five-minute conversation with me before you moved on to someone else—”

“Like you care.”

“So what if I do? Would it bad such a bad thing?”

Then it happens.

The eager look in his eyes softens. His gaze lowers and you fall into some sort of trance. He looks so angelic. The curves on his face and the way he blinks at you make your tummy turn. Something between you two feels like it’s sparkling and you look at him lovingly. A small smile appears on his face when it registers to him that; no. it wouldn’t be bad.

“Ohh,” you play along, “my poor baby!”

You fix the strands of his hair and he pulls away from you. The moment passes and you’re back to being a tease. You squish his cheeks and smile at him angelically. “Wooshik was cute, wasn’t he? He had a nice back profile and you know just how much broad shoulders make me feel— “

“I have a nice back profile. My shoulders are literally twice his.” Taehyung takes your hand and places it on his shoulders. You make a face, sighing as you squeeze his shoulders.

“Mhmm.. I don’t know. Wooshik doesn’t seem to be in such a grumpy mood. Maybe I should go back down there and—”

“And what?”

You groan. “Let me finish, Taehyung!”

“Not the first time you’ve said that,” he laughs. You roll your eyes at his immaturity and even hit his chest.

Now you’re not in the mood.

You should just go back downstairs and enjoy the rest of the party. Who cares about Taehyung? He’s all talk.

Taehyung is cute and all but he too could be a real piece of shit. It’s odd to say, but this is how you two are. Cat and dog, bickering until it counts. When it does count, suddenly you two are the only one the other wants. With Taehyung, it’s a constant push and pull until one of you gives in. It’s always been like this.

Maybe, it’s time for a change.

You lightly push away from him and reach for the door. Without hesitation, he playfully pulls you back to him and presses his body against yours. “Don’t do that,” Taehyung gulps, unsure whether he should stand stronger than this. With the wrong words and the slightest gesture—he could come off desperate. “Don’t be mad at me, ___.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you reassure him. “I just want to go talk to the kid downstairs and ask him if he’s the type to give flowers to a girl—”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh? Please do,” you giggle, pulling him in and crashing your lips onto his. You place your hand on top of where his heart is and feel how fast it begins to beat. It’s a given when Taehyung smiles into the kiss. When he deepens the kiss and you allow so, he thinks of confessing soon. He thinks of what to say and what gesture to pull off later.

Maybe something with flowers.

For now, kissing you would be his confession. He hopes you know it.

#taehyung scenario #taehyung fic #taehyung bts #bts one shot #bts situationship #taehyung f2l #taehyung fwb #bts f2l #bts fwb #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #taehyung fluff #bts jealous

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atinylittlepain · 8 months

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Tougher Than the Rest

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

wordcount | 5.5K

warnings | smut, angst, the usual

a/n | we have reached the last chapter of this story. thank you to everyone who has followed along with this one, it has truly been a treat working with these characters, so your love for them means a lot. as always i'd love to hear what you think, drop me a line!

...................................

“Ellie, school in thirty! You better be up if you’re catching the train! Sorry about that, my daughter is– well, you know how kids can be. What was the question again?” She hates these things. These fluffy little interviews that her agent forces her into whenever she has a new book coming out. Good publicity and all that. Bullshit, if you ask her. Why can’t the book just speak for itself?

“No worries at all, I was wondering if you could tell me a little about your writing process for this last book, did you have a set routine or any rituals that propelled your work forward?” Rituals, gag her. She tries not to let out a dejected sigh over the phone, settling instead for an eye roll as she attempts to get Ellie’s lunch put together with one and a half hands, her phone settled precariously between her cheek and her shoulder as she puts together a pb and j, except not because Ellie’s school has a thing about peanut butter. So, sunflower butter and organic apricot jam from the co-op down the block that she somehow got wrangled into as a member.

“You know, I try not to be too precious about routines. I write as much as I can whenever I can. And as a mom, I have to take whatever time I can get.” The interviewer most certainly didn’t like that answer, a long right, okay crackling over the line. But what did he expect? Some sort of meticulous, meditative bullshit no doubt. Sorry, not her style.

“So, last question here, you have certainly established yourself over the last decade as a prolific writer. What is it that keeps you writing?” Well, that’s simple, isn’t it? If she keeps writing, she keeps herself from thinking about the past, about things she shouldn’t be thinking about. But her agent would probably throttle her for saying that, so something else in its place instead.

“I always wanted to be a writer growing up. It’s just– instinct, maybe impulse, frankly. I write because it’s what I know how to do, it’s how I figure out this world.” She tacks on that last bit hoping it will make up for the entirely unsexy rest of her responses, and judging by the hmm the interviewer lets out over the phone, it will suffice. All the usual niceties and a long sigh when she finally hangs up.

“Ellie, if you aren’t up I’m–”

“Jesus, I’m up, woman.” Her eleven-year-old has developed a new habit of calling her woman like a despondent husband in a loveless marriage, marching out of her bedroom and into the kitchen as she shoves papers into her backpack.

“Lunch for you, and I will be outside of the school at 3:30 to walk home with you, okay? Do you– I can walk with you this morning too if–”

“No, mom, I got it.” It stings, just a little, smarting, and then a small swell of pride that her girl is so independent.

“Okay, okay, let’s get some breakfast in you, huh? Smoothie, that sound good?” Ellie’s face scrunches up, but she doesn’t give her an abject no, and that’s enough for Cherry to get out the blender.

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s in Texas?” Cherry freezes, her hand holding half a banana (non-GMO, whatever the fuck that means) suspended over the blender.

“What– where’s that question coming from?”

“On the computer last night, you had left it open to some construction company in Texas.” Shit, her smart girl. That was how Ellie found out that Santa wasn’t real two years ago, hopping on the desktop and finding the order confirmation for the pair of glow-in-the-dark Converse she had asked for in her letter addressed to the North Pole.

“Oh, um, that– I have a friend who is, uh, moving there and I’m helping her find someone to do work on her new house, yeah.” Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that answer, brow pinched up, but before she can question it, Cherry flips on the blender, letting it whir just a little longer than it needs to.

“Alright, breakfast of champions, you can drink it on the train, yeah? You’re gonna be late if you don’t get a move on.” A quick flurry to pour the smoothie into a to-go cup and then out the door, love you, be safe, bye. A big sigh when she slumps back against the shut door, close one.

Yes, maybe, a moment of weakness yesterday. A moment of weakness while she was working over edits for her next book. Somehow, up until yesterday, she had managed to not let a moment of weakness creep in. But before she knew what she was doing, she was googling his name and Austin, Texas. And there he was, with his own business no less.

Yes, maybe, she had left a tab open on the Miller’s Construction website’s About Us page. And yes, maybe, she had left the page zoomed in on the picture of Joel in the top corner. And yes, maybe, none of her edits had gotten done because she was a little busy looking at said picture for the better portion of the afternoon.

So the first thing that she does after cleaning up the small cyclone in the kitchen is log onto the computer to delete that tab, not letting herself linger on the photo any longer. But he looks good, she thinks. Doing good for himself, she thinks. Not letting that thought get any bigger, that want crack open any more than it already has, right back to work on her edits.

But her mind is fickle this morning, still stuck on that photo, still stuck on him in a way she hasn’t been in a while. Maybe it’s because of the appointment she has at noon. An impulsive choice she made and, for some reason, has kept. A way to hold onto something she should have let go a long time ago. But she can’t.

And yes, maybe, her morning is spent in a constant toggle between the open tab of her word doc, and that damn About Us page on the Miller’s Construction website.

…

He’s nervous. And he’s not sure why, because it’s her, right? It’s them. Except this is new. Not something they ever got to do in the past. Not like this at least.

“Hey there.” She’s in a dress when she opens the door, and his mind has to quickly configure around the fact that this is the first time he has seen her in a dress in two decades, though he probably should have expected that, right? Because people dress up for these things, something that Sarah said to him very slowly like he was an invalid, prompting him into a button-down before he left.

“Hey, Cherry, you look, uh, yeah– look real good.” She smiles, still leaning in the doorframe, but before she can speak, someone else beats her to it.

“Wow, real smooth, man.”

“Ellie.” Cherry hisses it over her shoulder, but Joel never sees the kid, just hears her lowly murmured what? I’m just saying, geez. Already off to a great start.

“Sorry about the peanut gallery, but I’m ready if you are.”

No more sneaking around, no more questioning if this is real or not. They’re doing the thing that normal people do, normal people in a normal relationship. They’re going on a date.

“I like this.” She hums it, reaching across the console from the passenger seat to thumb at the collar of his shirt, her palm smoothing down over his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm, you clean up very pretty, Miller.” Just a little snark tinging the end of her words, making him huff as she keeps rubbing distracting circles into his chest.

“Well, you’re in fine form, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” With that, her hand trails up, palm slipping behind the nape of his neck, her fingers threading through the errant curls there while he fights the urge for his eyes to roll back in his head.

“Sure, Cher, at this rate we’re not even gonna make it to the restaurant.” He regrets saying it instantly, because just as soon as the words leave his mouth, she’s taking her hand away, sitting prim and perfect in the passenger seat where she had been completely turned toward him before.

“Right, sorry, best behavior.” Her words slant with the simper of her smile, and he has to remind himself that they’re doing this normal thing now. No need to hurry, no need to hide, no need to steal time. Because she’s staying, and so is he.

By some stroke of luck, they do make it to the restaurant, and it’s right about then that Joel realizes it has been a woefully long time since he has been on a date. He has to stutter himself into all the motions, trying to remember the right moves, opening the door for her, a bit flustered when he pulls her chair out for her and she snorts.

“Well you don’t get this kind of treatment in New York.” To make the matter of his quick creeping flush worse, she presses a kiss to his cheek before she sits down. He gets to have that now, totally normal. He’s still getting used to totally normal.

“So how is the book coming along?” He’s not sure if he’s allowed to ask that, what might still be a sore subject. For a moment, her face falls, fear flickering in his chest that he has fucked up, though she smooths it out, something like a smile still at the edges of her eyes.

“Do you really want to hear me talk about that?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Can I ask you something first?” He nods, of course, taking a cursory sip of his wine as she does the same.

“Did you– what did you think? About the other ones?” She asks it shy, her cheek propped in her hand, smile crumpled to one side. His mind reels with what he could say, though he’s not sure if any of it’s right. It’s not like he has some dazzlingly intellectual thing to say. But she’s asking him, she wants to know what he thinks, and he muses to himself that she’s been wanting to know what he thinks for a while.

“I was amazed by every single one, Cher. And I was proud of you too, even though I had no business feeling that way. It was– I thought about you, a lot, over the years. And getting to read your books, it felt like I could be a little closer to you that way.” He surprises himself with the stark honesty of his words, but how could he offer her anything else when she’s looking at him like that? Smile softening in the dim light of the restaurant, cheeks brimming up with the praise.

“I always wondered, you know, if you were reading them. I– I guess that’s a little ridiculous.” He’s still getting used to this too, being able to reach out for her, taking her hand in his across the table.

“Not ridiculous, and I’m looking forward to reading the new one.”

“I sent the second draft in two days ago.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm, my editor fucking destroyed my first one, so we’ll see how this draft goes over.”

“You know, I’ve been wondering, Cher, when the hell did you get that trucker’s mouth of yours?” She laughs big and bright, shoulders shrugging up to her ears, a little flail to her hands that makes him laugh too.

“I mean, it’s definitely a New York thing. That, and people just started pissing me off a lot more, so I kinda had to.”

“I tried to cut back on it when Sarah got old enough to start picking stuff up. She still managed to slip a few fucks into her vocabulary in the first grade.”

“Oh god, I actually got called into the school when Ellie was in the first grade because she told a boy at recess to leave her the fuck alone. Honestly, I was more proud than anything else, is that bad?”

“Fuck no, it’s not bad. I’d probably take Sarah for ice cream if she did the same.” She sighs around a smile, and he finds himself doing the same, settling into this ease. Yes, he thinks, it’s going to take some getting used to. But he’s more than happy to be getting used to it with her.

…

“I’d like to get it on my right shoulder, if that works okay.” If her mother could see her now. She doesn’t look in the mirror until the tattoo artist has stamped the stencil into place, a satisfied hum in her throat when she gets a look at the design.

Frankly, she wasn’t sure if she was going to keep this appointment. She had made it under the pleasant flush of two glasses of wine late one night about a month ago, surprised to receive an email from the artist saying that they loved her idea and wanted to get her on the books. And for some reason, she didn’t say no, didn’t cancel, and is now laying out on a tattoo table and bracing for the first pass of the needle.

It’s not too bad, a little cringey when the artist is working right over the cap of her shoulder, but otherwise it passes quickly, and before she knows it, she’s standing back in front of the mirror on shaky legs, looking at the twining cherry branch now wrapping around her upper arm.

“It’s perfect, thank you. I love it.” Ellie has rather different feelings about it, her jaw dropping loose when Cherry meets her outside of her school, still warm enough that she’s only in a t-shirt, showing off part of her still-wrapped ink.

“What is that?” There’s no playing it off, Ellie refusing to move until Cherry gives her an answer.

“That is a tattoo, and before you ask, no, not until you’re eighteen.” Ellie balks at that, though Cherry is quick to sling her arm around her girl’s shoulders to set them both walking toward the subway.

“Is it– what is it?” Ellie takes the one leftover seat in the train and Cherry hooks her elbow around the rail in front of her, a perfect opportunity for her kid to get a better look at her new tattoo.

“It’s a cherry tree.”

“I can’t believe you got a tattoo.” She says it with a sigh, like somehow, this is the worst news ever. Cherry has to hold back a laugh, knowing that it will only put Ellie in even worse of a tiff.

“What’s wrong with tattoos?”

“Nothing, but you’re my mom, you’re not supposed to get tattoos.” Ellie grumbles out the last words, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff, perfectly petulant. Cherry gives her little episode about twenty more minutes before she forgets all about it and asks what’s for dinner.

When they do get back to their apartment, Cherry just barely catches the ringing phone, surprised, though pleasantly, when she hears Will on the other end.

“Hey, what’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Hey, yeah, I just thought I’d give you a call.” She knows exactly what that means. It’s only been recently that she and Will can talk like this, call like this. She got out, and he did too, and for a while that had to be enough for the both of them, slinking around the past like they could somehow forget it. It was Will that reached out to her first, and she was relieved for it, not sure if he resented her, or even hated her for the way she left. He didn’t, he understood, and he wanted to know how his big sister was doing.

“Mom?” He sighs over the phone, exactly what she thought. For some reason, their mother still reaches out to him, an errant phone call that he somehow can’t seem to dodge.

“She called to tell me that they’re moving to Arizona.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“Yeah, so I guess that means Austin has finally been fumigated.” Cherry snorts, trying to let that be funny, though all it really feels is bitter.

“You’re not thinking about going back, are you?” Because suddenly, she is. An impossibility for so long, now a little more possible.

“Hell no, Portland has been good to me. I only just managed to lose the accent.”

“I liked your accent, Will. I’m afraid mine has started sounding a little too Brooklyn lately.”

“Yeah, you have that kinda eternally angry thing going on in your voice now.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know that my eternally angry voice is what gets me book deals.”

“Sure, that’s what it is, miss New York Times bestseller.” She scoffs, a flustered murmur of yeah, yeah, whatever, always quick to change the subject from anything like that.

“You’re still coming for Christmas though, right? I’d– we’d really love to have you. I’ve been telling Ellie about you.” Something new, she never thought Ellie would get any kind of extended family. Definitely no grandparents, but an uncle would be nice.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” He has something else to say, she can tell by the way his words fizzle out. She doesn’t push though, just waits.

“You don’t think about going back, do you? To Texas?” Her throat tightens, a quick glance down the hall to check that Ellie’s bedroom door is still closed.

“No, why would I want to?”

“Oh come on, out of the two of us I’d say you’d have an actual reason to.”

“What are you talking about?” Like maybe she could bullshit her way out of this, but he is her brother, after all. He always liked Joel, definitely looked up to him. And he was also one of the only people that knew about their relationship, always willing to cover for her sneaking around, for the flat rate price of a new comic book.

“Not what, who.”

“Will, that’s ancient history. That’s– that’s even past ancient history. It was another life.”

“I know, I just– I always thought you two were gonna be it, you know? Even before that summer, y’all were always something else.”

“Careful, they’ll throw you out of Portland for saying y’all like that.” That gets half a laugh out of him, just enough to drop the subject.

“All this talk of Texas must be getting to me. Anyways, just wanted to call and tell you the big news or whatever.”

“Alright, well, big news aside, it’s always good to hear from you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yeah, sis, love you.”

“Love you too.” That’s new, she’s glad for it.

Afternoons, after school, but before dinner, this is her favorite time. Sometimes, Ellie will still let her help with her homework, or at least allow her presence on the edge of her bed while she works, might even answer a few questions about her day or her friends. Eleven going on thirty, or something like that. By the time dinner rolls around, her girl has warmed up to her enough to sit at the kitchen counter while she chops vegetables.

“So, why a cherry tree?”

“Oh, it’s an old story, a friend of mine from a long time ago, not interesting. Hey, I saw the email from the school about career day next week, were you gonna tell me about that?” A quick change of subject, two birds with one stone, really. Ellie’s face scrunches up at her question.

“Yeah, but like, you’re too busy for it anyways.” She barely looks up from her math worksheet as she says it, like no big deal, though Cherry’s stomach immediately sinks.

“Woah, woah, babe, I am absolutely not too busy for that. I’m never too busy for you, what– why do you think that?” Ellie just shrugs, still intent on her fractions.

“Because of the new book and stuff. You’re very preoccupied.” One of her new vocab words for the week, preoccupied, right.

“Els, will you look at me, please? I am never too busy for you, okay? None of that shi–stuff matters more than you do. And I’d really love to go to career day, if you want me to be there.” Ellie seems to consider that proposition, a big burst of relief when she nods.

“Yeah, you’re cooler than a lot of the other parents anyways. They all do boring stuff for work.” She’ll take it, trying to temper her grin at her girl’s small praise as she gets back to prepping dinner. She’ll have to remember to wear long sleeves for career day, not wanting to give the PTA moms any more gossip fodder than they already have about her. Single mom, single writer mom with no family to be heard of. Not a very good look to all those upper-crust types, not that she could give a shit about it. But she doesn’t want her black sheepness to rub off on Ellie, play dates and hang outs to be scheduled and all that, so, definitely long sleeves for career day.

Much later, Ellie in bed reading, and no impending emails or phone calls, Cherry finally takes another look at the tattoo before getting in the shower.

If nothing else, ever, at least this.

…

“So.” She says it all long and drawn out, her hands clasped behind her back as she sways a little in front of his truck, sooooo. It’s dark out by the time they leave the restaurant, both of them a little loose, a little languid from a few glasses of wine, though he’s still sober enough to feel a lick of nerves run up his spine as he tries to figure out what’s the right next move, what normal people do on a date like this.

“Sarah is at Tommy’s for the night, if you don’t have to be home just yet?” No, probably not what normal people do on a first date. But no, not their first date either, not really. And nothing normal about this either, not really. Cherry, smiles, all crooked shadows in the faint glow coming from the restaurant. She really is a sight. He’s been stealing sweeping glances all night, collecting her up in pieces in his mind. The bare skin of her thighs, just a suggestion of it with the slip of her dress. Her dress, he thinks she knows that it’s just a little cruel that she’s wearing that dress judging by the way she moves, shoulders rolled back, always a ghost of a grin like she’s getting away with something. Instinct or just plain impulse to reach out for her, to let his knuckles graze along the neckline of her dress, the smallest shiver when he trails from the sweet plunge up along the slope of her shoulder.

“Ellie was going to a sleepover, so I don’t have to be anywhere until my chauffeur services are needed tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

He is trying, all of his effort, really, to focus on the road when they start driving back to his house. But Cherry isn’t exactly making it easy with the way her hand is splayed on his thigh, and he has to clear his throat when her nails graze along the inseam of his pants.

“Everything alright?” He only glances away for a beat, though it’s enough time to see the smug curl of her smile.

“You– you’re–” His breath hitches before he can finish that thought, Cherry’s knuckles grazing against his already aching cock through his pants, though her hand is gone just as soon, settling lower, just above his knee.

“What am I, baby?”

“I think you know what you are.” Her laugh comes in bells, chirping high as she tips her head back, the shock-white flash of her teeth in the corner of his eye.

“I think you like it.” High, like wings fluttering each word she says. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes still on the road while he reaches across the console for her, his palm slipping from her shoulder up the slope of her neck, fingers curling around her nape and his thumb stroking the hinge of her jaw, his own silent answer, his.

They’re both quiet stepping inside his house, lights off so the rooms are washed down in dark swaths of shadow. Up the stairs and into his room, she doesn’t look at the books this time, all her attention on him.

No need to rush, no need to hide, no need to lie about what this really is. A first for two decades later, they can take their time with each other, because there will be plenty more of it to offer, to receive.

“I thought about you, you know.” He knows that she’s talking about a particular kind of thinking about him, her eyes heavy with it.

“Show me, Cher.” Broken thoughts that somehow still get pieced together, the easy slip of her dress falling around her feet, stepping out of fabric and laying back on his bed. Perfect like this, her knees bent and falling open to the sides. He finds himself sitting down on the edge of the bed, his palm cupping the slope of her calf before sliding down, fingers curling loosely around her ankle. Something to tether him, to convince him that this is real, that all her want is for him. From the start, she was always surprising him, always finding some fresh way to make his head spin. She still is. Propped up on one elbow, her other palm trailing down the center of her chest, pausing there to let her fingers graze against her nipple, the smallest hitch of her breath making his cock pulse. And then lower, his eyes going heavy watching her hand move over the soft clench of her stomach before settling just over her pelvis. Forefinger and middle spreading herself open for him to see, swollen and pearling pleasure, obscene and a little world-ending.

And it’s his name. His name that she whispers when she dips two of her fingers into her cunt, his hand curling a little closer around her ankle at the sight and sound. A slick smear of heat, the way the tendons in her hips jump with the effort of staying splayed for him, slack and then tense all over when the pads of her fingers catch against her clit.

Please, not enough, please, want you. But he wants to see, her preening pleas falling on deaf ears. Because he wants to see how she thought about him all those miles away, years away, and aching for him. And he was aching for her too. Go on, Cher, just like that. She huffs, brow pulling down in a pinch of frustration, but she still allows, the small jump of her wrist, the veins in her hand jittering as two fingers find a stuttered rhythm, her hips tilting into each thrust. And he’s mean for doing this, cruel even, slipping sorry beneath his palm as it skates up her shin, smoothing and soothing. I know, I know, it’s not enough, is it? Never enough he thinks, it was never enough.

“Stop teasing, come here.” Never saying no to her, and he already knows it, making as quick work as he can of the buttons of his shirt, the warm flush of bare skin against bare skin when he finally settles between her legs, one palm splayed next to her temple and the other bunched in the sheets beside her hip. All brilliant machinery, two bodies moving together like they never stopped, her knee hitching up along his hip as his palm slides down along the soft skin of the inside of her thigh. He rests his thumb over her clit, presence more than anything else, though Cherry doesn’t allow that for long, another huff, another don’t tease that he chases after with a hard stamp of a kiss.

And when he finally spreads her open with one shuddering snap of his hips, his breath gets caught in his chest, pleasure finally catching up to him and crackling down his spine. His mouth rests open and wanting below the dip of her clavicle, the slight press of skin that comes with each of her inhales, like a bird beating around in her ribs, short and stuttered and certain.

Quiet whispers, need you to move, baby, that word never failing to snare his mind, all he can do to give her what she wants with a slow roll of his hips that’s already turning greedy in the way he grinds into the plush of her ass at the end, a high sound stopping itself in the back of her throat.

And no, not taking their time, both of them growing desperate for that tight furl of pleasure settling between them. Just a little obscene in the way the bed scrapes against the floor with every thrust, the sound melding and mixing with the breathy little moans Cherry can’t seem to stop, not that he would want her to. He groans when he reaches between them to thumb at her clit, her cunt dripping around him, a dizzying flutter of heat that he wants more of. And when Cherry says more, right there something snaps in him, animal, incessant in the way he slips his palms under the swell of her ass, lifting her hips up so her thighs rest over his, fucking up into her from his haunches, strong enough that he can do that now, move and make her with his hands like this. Pulled taut, her body one long line of pleasure, he watches the perfect tendons in her throat jump with a whine of his name.

It’s a devastating heat when she does come, spine arching before she slumps down in his grasp. He stills inside her, a whimper in her throat when his hips absent-mindedly shift against hers. C’mere, c’mere, pulling him down, her palms running up his sides before slipping over his shoulders, mapping him out as she catches her breath.

“I love you so much, Joel.” The sound he makes is pathetic at best, a little broken battering in his ribs. And he should ask if she’s good, if he can, if it’s okay for him to, but he needs it so bad, needs her so bad that he’s already finding that rhythm again, harsh breaths with each thrust. Not far behind her, not with the way she’s murmuring all her want into his ear, something that sounds like love when that pleasure finally snaps and shimmers under his skin.

Perfect like this in the after, holding onto each other, mouths finding whatever slip of skin they can, kissing it better.

“It’s you and me, Cher. I love you.” Her fingers still in their gentle sweep through his hair, a little tug to get his eyes up to hers.

“Plus two.” Confused at first, he has to laugh when his brain catches up to what she’s saying.

“Right, you and me, plus two.”

…

Her least favorite time of the day, or night, really. Ellie asleep, just her and the blinking cursor in her word document. It’s about this time every night that it settles back in under her skin. She doesn’t know what to call it. Loneliness feels pitiful, and patently untrue because she has her girl, and that’s all she needs. It’s like an ache, like a physical lack that she manages to forget about in all the fret and fuss of the day, still there, still sore.

Tonight, something particular to soothe that ache. That damn web page, and that damn photo of him. Different, older, but still him. A small part of her, a young part, wonders if he has read her books, if he’s seen her photo on the dust jackets and traced all the small nicks and nips of time the same way that she does now, her face pressed close to the screen of her computer to collect up any new detail.

She quits while she’s ahead, sigh, shut the whole thing off, rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes to try to stamp out the picture of him.

An ache, a want, that has been there for nearly two decades. When Will had told her about their parents moving out of Austin, hope had been quick to flicker up and around her ribs, a silly thing. Silly to ache like this, to want like this, to presume that he’s been waiting around for her.

She’s been waiting for him though, she realizes. Wanting for him. So would it be so crazy to think that, maybe, he’s been wanting for her too?

........................................

taglist:

@spookyxsam @libbylou223 @angel-in-beskar @starstruckunknown-princess @casa-boiardi @tieronecrush @swiftispunk @beskarandblasters @trulybetty @amanitacowboy @pr0ximamidnight @wannab-urs @jksprincess10 @suzmagine @everything-isfucked @lanabobana @kittenlittle24 @sarap-77 @officerrrfriendly @val-srz @bitchwitch1981 @redwoodsanddaffodils @themothersmercy @romanarose @lost-inhawkins @youcancallmeelle @hollywoodcaligirl @harryleatherfit @fifia-writes @brighttears @lokanda @hardlystrictlystarwars @sarahxxo3 @harriedandharassed @anoverwhelmingdin

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fics #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller au

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brandogenius · 2 months

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Can you do one thats like a combo of jb x reader with unsupportive parents and bg x younger artist where younger artist!reader gets kicked out but also gets a new apartment in la to start a new life so it’s bittersweet and the boys help you move in? also LOVEEEE your fics💕

‼️RPF‼️

BLURB - the boys & young artist! - unsupportive parents

the boys don’t from from you in while. all three of them growing worried since you were very since in the group chat. finally getting a hold of you at one night maybe like a week later you explain the story

at first the boys were mad at you for not replying but once realising that you were kicked out, had nowhere to stay, no phone to charge aka replying to messages they understood.

they were also a bit upset you didn’t come to them. “i didn’t want to burden or annoy you” which caused the boys to get more upset. mainly due to the fact they thought you didn’t trust them enough. “you know you can come to us for anything right kid?”

you weren’t used to living on your own so the boys offered to temporarily move in with you until it felt right. whether that was a week or a couple of months. especially with what was going on, they didn’t want you to be on your own anyway

“guys i promise i’m fine-“ (no you weren’t stop lying to yourself tf)

“just a couple of days at most kid. sleepover with the oldies.” they help you move your stuff in. decorating the house the way YOU want it.

going out shopping for furniture with lucy. ikea maybe? hauling supplies and shit into the back of the car as both of you build a couch and table with chairs for the day. phoebe and julien going shopping for paint and home decoration supplies

i feel like each in their own way it’s a little bonding moment between you and the boys. shopping with lucy while both of you discuss amongst yourselves which couch looks nicer with the interior.

“this one looks nice” lucy running her hands over the soft leather of the couch “would look nice with the coloured walls” you agreeing. lucy helping put the stuff in the trolly (bare with me i haven’t been to ikea before ‼️)

both of you setting up the supplies in the empty room. getting down to business. “let me take the hammer- i’m afraid you’d chop your fingers off”

lucy ending up doing all the hammering and nail work as you sit there and hold stuff in place. it’s not that she doesn’t trust you it’s just… you’re quite accident prone but thats ok!

another bonding moment with phoebe going home supply shopping. she knows what you like and what you dislike so it’s easy to find. running down the isle with fake flowers like “these would look so cute!!” and add them to the trolly without your opinion.

debating on weather this purple cute cow print cushion is cuter or this pastel colourful rainbow rainbow. both liking the both but ultimately doing beads or tails in the store to find out what wins

you putting both in the trolly anyway.

with jb however. i can view the two of you painting your bedroom. say pb and lucy are gone to get lunch for all of you so you and jb are painting the bedroom.

jules going like “you know if you need anyone to talk to you can come to me and the boys right?” it’s so sudden but has you crying in sibling issues. it’s very sweet but also a bit sad.

“i know.. i just don’t wanna annoy you all” and jb is like “nonsense. wouldn’t be annoying anyone. we’re all friends here right?” and you’re nodding your head agreeing “then there’s no need to be worried”

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noandpickles · 10 months

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Growing up so completely isolated from any information about queer people was wild. I snuck out of my room late one night and saw an episode of Jerry Springer with a trans woman as a guest, and I was like "wow, that's so cool, nature is amazing." Never occurred to me that transition was something people did on purpose (and thus that I could do).

I saw part of a PBS documentary about a trans man who had given birth to his and his partner's first child. My takeaway was that sometimes cis dudes are born with functioning uteruses. When I marveled about it to my mom she just said "that's not real, men can't get pregnant," rather than explaining what a trans person is.

Later on, a friend of mine made a joke about an old woman in the neighborhood being a lesbian. I didn't know what that was, so I asked my mom. She said a lesbian is "a woman who thinks she's a man." This was my understanding of gay men and lesbians pretty much until I reached adulthood.

I'm not sure what I'm getting at with all this. Maybe that there are very likely queer kids growing up right now with so little access to information about us that they might not even know that anyone like them exists in the world. Visibility is so incredibly important, representation is so incredibly important. The right thinks we're groomers who are coming for their children, but we can't let that attack stop us from actually trying to help their kids, by making it difficult or impossible to grow up without learning who we are.

Because for a lot of queer kids, learning who we are will be the first step to learning who they are.

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kinda-neutral-thingy · 2 years

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Hi 👋🏻 can I request headcanons for Father Dio x daughter reader and Father Jonathan x daughter reader (separate pls) with how they would be as fathers.

Thankyou 🤗

Dio Brando and Jonathan Joestar as fathers (separate)

Platonic! Daughter! Reader

Warnings: grammatical mistakes, fem! Reader, kinda toxic parenthood, mentions of bullying, PB spoilers

Notes: OMG it's my first request, thank you SO much!!💓 Also I'm gonna assume that they are both from Phantom Blood, so if you also want SDC! Dio feel free to request again

Dio Brando

Listen, I'm not saying he's a bad father

He will probably read books about caring for children - what to feed them, what to wear, etc.

And he will have everything a child needs

Maybe if she's well behaved he can buy her some gifts

In material terms, he is quite an ordinary parent, just with lots of money to provide high-quality things

But let's just admit, he wouldn't be the best for a kid

Most likely he will have high expectations

He doesn't want you to grow up like the rest of the plebs (in his opinion) around him

Expect many hours of teaching from your father himself before you even go to school

He will also teach you good manners, but at the same time achieving your goals whatever it takes

If you are bullied at school for the first time, he may threaten the bullies (they will remember it for a lifetime), but when you get older, he will insist that you do something about it yourself as he taught you

He's not very good at comforting. Perhaps if you break down in public he will take you aside and tell you not to expose yourself in such way in front of others

Things are better at home, you can cry in peace

I think Dio might say something like "you deserve better", "you're better than all this garbage", "you'll take your pedestal", etc. during this

Maybe he'll bring you tea with your favorite food

Most likely he will initiate physical contact (something like hugs and such) only for a public, at home he practically doesn't do this

If you link it to the PB lore, Dio will most likely turn you into a vampire, or at least take you with him

Jonathan Joestar

Best JoJo time

Most likely, he will also read books about caring for a child, but will very often confuse something

Ultimately, he will ask for advice from people around him

When you were a baby, he almost dropped you three times on the floor, he was scared to death

Unlike Dio, Jonathan buys gifts for his daughter even when she misbehaves

He simply collects these gifts and gradually gives them when the situation gets better

He wants you to be properly educated, including physically

(I know it might have been frowned upon in those days, but Jonathan wouldn't care, he'd want his daughter to stand up for herself)

Will definitely read bedtime stories and roll you on his shoulders until you're at least 7 years old (keep in mind that he's really strong)

Maybe he can teach you what he knows about hamon and even train you

If you get bullied, then he will most likely talk to the parents of the bullies, but if this doesn't help, then he will have to talk to them personally

You will both go grocery shopping in the town and discuss something along the way

But the most important thing is that he will teach you to treat this world with kindness, not to hold a grudge against people and be at peace with yourself

He is better than Dio emotionally

You can calmly cry even in public and he will give you the comfort you need

If you are not against physical contacts, then he will hug you and lightly pat on the shoulder

"We'll break through this", "things will get better", etc. could be heard a lot from him

Definitely will make you your comfort food

Also something tells me he wouldn't mind if you walk in trousers. He doesn't care about reputation and the like, he doesn't see anything wrong with your preferences

#jjba x reader #dio Brando x reader #platonic! Dio Brando x reader #Jonathan Joestar x reader #platonic! Jonathan Joestar x reader #platonic! reader #daughter! reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #reader insert #platonic x reader

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kooabreen · 7 months

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okay okay people have probably talked about jake aging as fast as a dog, but i havent really seen it so imma talk ab it again:

finn, jake, and jermaine were all babies at the same time - margaret and joshua must have found finn a few months or so after the pups were born. they are all roughly the same size in the episode ab the old detective family office, so the pups had grown a bit since birth

season one finn is 12 years old and jake is in his late twenty’s - by this point, jake has had a bad boy era, written j.t. dogzone books/had been in multiple relationships, etc etc etc. all while kid finn was still being raised by joshua and margaret.

jumping forward - joshua and margaret passed, leaving kid finn with jake while jermaine stayed at the family house. finn must have left the house at a young rough housing age, evident how the moment he’s back inside, he returns to swinging on the lights and breaking furniture like a rambunctious kid

it always confused me why finn went to live with jake - jake must have been away from home for extended periods while finn was growing up, participating in card wars tournaments and stealing from banks or some shit. jermaine was the one who was likely home with finn more when he was younger, learning joshua’s tips in order to eventually inherit the responsibility of their house/possessions. i wonder why finn wasn’t as close to jermaine - maybe he thought jake was cooler, or maybe jermaine didn’t want finn at the house anymore due to his tendency to break shit. i’m imagining little finn just tearing the place up while jermaine and joshua try to preserve the furniture. then jake visits and is able to take finn out exploring, his magic abilities ensuring he’s safe while getting his pent up energy out

anyways so jake, in his late twenties after living various lives of questionable morality, is now responsible for raising kid finn. jake is a fantastic brother and they are soul mates through and through, but it’s due to his parenting in finn’s formative years that finn represses trauma and deals with emotions by dungeoning. he had finn sword fighting and performing knight duties at the age of 12 and younger - this was likely due to finn already being drawn to that type of stuff, but jake definitely had a hands off approach to his upbringing

also! jake approaching pb, asking if she’d take little kid finn as a knight. it might have happened after joshua and margaret’s death, finn must have been experiencing the same emotions he did during jakes death, feeling lost and unsure of what to do. maybe finn’s coping mechanism of mindless labor started there, when pb agreed and gave him something to do with himself. maybe it was just jake wanting to indulge in that crazy little kid’s proclivity towards justice and violence

#adventure time #finn and jake #jermaine

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quohotos · 6 months

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We didn't have cable growing up, so me and my siblings were strictly PBS kids. I remember that our station had these little segments that were maybe at most four minutes long to fill out between shows, usually highlighting the story of some extraordinary kid. There was a kid who made stuff out of duct tape, there was a kid who designed surf boards, there was a kid who did claymation, a kid who climbed all the mountains in north america, etc.

And then there was a kid who got a bit more time. He was a hockey player, but he had both of his legs amputated below the knee at age 6. I must have been 5 at the time, but somehow my brain just made the connection "This what all hockey players are like. You have to decide by age six if you want to play hockey or not, and if you do what to play it you gotta get your legs amputated. Look at him, he can still walk on metal prosthetics, it's not thaaaaaat bad."

My 6th birthday was coming up and I was really nervous, trying to decide if I wanted to play hockey or not, I had to make the decision. I would like to add that no one in my county played hockey, there were no ice skating rinks, heck it only snowed up in the hills and never at my house except VERY rarely. Ultimately, I decided that no, I would not get to play hockey in this lifetime, and I would keep my legs.

Then I heard that my cousins on the other side of the country had started playing hockey and were doing really well at it. I just took it for granted that yeah, they have metal legs now. That's neat. Then when we finally went to visit them I remember staring at their legs and being like... how are those still made of flesh? You play hockey right????? HOW? How are you not being dominated by your cyborg brethren who have been playing with metal legs since age 6?

Of course I didn't say anything I just sorta marveled in silence and then eventually realized that no, you don't need to amputate both your legs below the knee to play hockey.

It's just weird when you're so young and you'll just come to a definitive, incorrect understanding about reality and go on believing that for so much longer because no one bothers to correct it for you.

#Quohotos' unhinged rants that no one asked for #PBS #PBS kids #hockey

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drylan · 2 years

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Inspired by a post I saw, for the writing prompt.

Ryan writes notes from “mum” and puts then in his sisters bag before school so she thinks that their mum is always thinking of her.

just...just...punch me in the stomach rn

Dylan watched, sleepily, as Ryan quickly navigated the comfy kitchen with ease.

Last night had been movie night and Sarah had picked Monster House, which Dylan had never actually seen. He found the plot to be oddly emotional, touching, while Ryan was simply enamored with the animation style.

Even after Ryan had tucked his little sister in for bed, he and Ryan had simply stayed up almost all night talking about everything and nothing in Ryan’s comfy childhood room.

He observed as Ryan made a heart shaped PB&J sandwich, diced carrots, a yogurt, granola bar, and a juice box

“Can I help with anything?” Dylan finally managed after his second cup of coffee.

“Uh, just get Cocoa Puffs off the top shelf, Sarah will want some for breakfast. Monday’s are Cocoa Puff mornings.”

“Sure, sure.” As Dylan pulled the box down, he looked over his shoulder and saw Ryan scribble a small note.

‘Sorry I missed you this morning, sweetheart. Have a good week at school, I’m proud of you! -Love, Mom’

Something ached inside of Dylan at that, but he said nothing as Ryan slipped it into the lunchbox. He was an amazing big brother, as far as Dylan was concerned. Anyone would be lucky to have him as a sibling, and he was glad it was a kid as awesome as Sarah.

Part of him begrudged their mother. Who could abandon wonderful kids like them? He knew it wasn’t his place, he knew he was lucky that, while he had a single mother too, she was always there for Dylan and supported him. He never had to worry about her missing a science fair or a track meet. Mrs. Lenivy was always there, front and center, cheering him on. And he was kind of an asshole when he was a little kid, not literal saints like Ryan and Sarah. Why the fuck was the world so lopsided and unfair?

Moments later Sarah joined them at the kitchen table and devoured not just one, but two bowls of Cocoa Puffs. And maybe Dylan let her sneak a sip of his coffee while Ryan’s back was turned. Maybe.

“Uh, mom packed lunch for you, you can grab it from the fridge.” Ryan said quickly as Sarah tugged on her jacket.

“Aw, I missed her this morning?” Sarah pouted.

“Yeah, she had to head out for some appointment. But, she stopped to make you lunch, so be grateful, brat.” Ryan pinched her side and the younger Erzahler squeaked in response and slapped at his hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, butthead!” Then she leaned over the kitchen table and grinned at Dylan, flashing a missing tooth. “Bye boyfriend out of my brother’s league...”

“Hey, who taught you that?! Nevermind, bus stop, now...” Ryan grumbled and Dylan nearly choked on his own bowl of cereal.

“For the record, your brother’s outta my league!” Dylan called after her and she responded with a look of pure disgust. Ryan shot him a look of betrayal. Ah, so the jig was up.

Once she was gone, Ryan finally poured himself a cup of coffee and Dylan served him up a bowl of cereal. “You’re amazing. And also, way too fucking nice. I’ve been here the entire weekend and your mom hasn’t come home once.”

“Yeah, well...that’s normal for her.”

“Why do you...”

“Lie to Sarah?”

"Cover for your mom?”

“Because, it’s not about her.” Ryan shrugged. “It’s...it’s about Sarah. I don’t want her to grow up too soon. She deserves to be happy, normal kid. Not fucked up, like me.”

“You’re not fucked up.” Ryan quirked an eyebrow in response. “You’re not. You’re a fucking, amazing older brother making fucking heart shape PB&J sandwiches, okay?! You’re just...something else. And you’re giving me baby fever at 20, Jesus.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I want, like, 3 kids, at least.” Ryan smirked, then Dylan leaned over and stole a kiss. “My grandparents are out at morning mass...”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ryan grabbed his hand and tugged him back into his bedroom.

#the quarry #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #sarah erzahler #fanfic #ficlet #my stuff #drylan #rylan #radioheads

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kylekozmikdeluxo · 2 months

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The Sorta-Kinda Thomas Creepypasta I Had In My Head at Age 6

Weird-ass story from childhood time...

Growing up, I was like obsessed... Almost religiously, with THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE. A whole franchise which of course needs no introduction.

Like most American kids growing up in the 1990s, I first caught that blue locomotive and his pals on a PBS show called SHINING TIME STATION. It was a live-action show about some kids visiting their local train station, and the 4 1/2-minute THOMAS episodes would be a show-within-that-show. Usually the episode would relate to what was going on in the train station. The tales were told by a little man named Mr. Conductor, portrayed by the series' first UK narrator Ringo Starr in the first season, and then later by comedian George Carlin.

I have memories of watching that show with my paternal grandfather, when I was about... 3? I remember observing "The trains have faces... But they don't have cowcatchers." My grandfather and I would often draw train locomotives together, too. He'd teach me about the little minute details and such. Right down to the spokes on the wheels. That's part of why I'm an artist.

Anyways, let's jump ahead a little... I was 5, I hadn't seen that show in a while. Maybe because of scheduling, maybe I just wasn't watching that channel back then. Maybe I was watching VHS tapes more than watching TV...

One day, in the summer of 1998, I was given a VHS tape of a few of the THOMAS episodes on their own. SHINING TIME STATION episodes were barely released on home media, only the individual Thomas stories, and tapes were usually random grab-bags of episodes from the show's first 3-4 seasons. That first tape I got consisted of seven episodes, all in UK airing order no less, from season one. It was "James Learns a Lesson and Other Stories".

Now at that age, I had remembered watching the "trains with faces but no cowcatchers" show with my grandfather. I also still had my ERTL die-cast toy of Edward with two coaches that I sometimes played with... So I was like "Sure, I remember Thomas. I'll watch this."

That's where it all went downhill, lol.

And by my birthday and Christmas of that year, I was getting all these VHSes of the show and toys and such. I fit the cliche of autistic kid who was **addicted** to Thomas, add in that I used to identify as male. So yeah, the autistic Thomas boy stereotype through and through right here.

For my birthday that year, one of the VHS tapes I got was "A Big Day for Thomas and Other Stories". It was a compilation of Season 1 episodes, all narrated by George Carlin. Carlin would re-narrate all of the Season 1 and 2 episodes previously done by Ringo...

This was a weird tape, to say the least. It was rather short, and it had some episodes out of order. For example, the episode 'Thomas Breaks the Rules' ('Thomas in Trouble' in the UK) was the 2nd episode on the tape... But the episode that directly proceeds it, 'Toby the Tram Engine' ('Toby and the Stout Gentleman' in the UK) was at the *end* of the tape. Like, that story goes right into the 'Breaks the Rules' story. That's how the continuity was in the early series, as it closely followed the original books - THE RAILWAY SERIES. So it was weirdly out of order. Like watching AVENGERS: ENDGAME first, and then a few movies later, watching AVENGERS: INFINITY WAR.

Second... On old Thomas VHSes, each episode had a small intermission before and after. A sequence of the characters, and white boards in front of them with their names on them. Thomas fans often call these the "Nameboard" sequences. They'd be a few seconds long, with the Thomas theme playing over them. They'd end with an image of Sir Topham Hatt/The Fat Controller, with the text "Next Story Coming Up Soon!"

Usually that screen was silent, or had the last bars of the Thomas theme playing over it...

But for some reason, on the "Big Day for Thomas" VHS... There was the sound of a whistle at the end of the nameboard sequence leading up to the episode 'Trouble for Thomas' ('Thomas and the Trucks' in the UK). Not any of the characters' whistles, but a more realistic sounding one...

Now, as a weird kid who was *easily* thrown off by things... 6-year-old me in 1998 was freeeeaked out by this. Like, why was that weird-sounding whistle there? Why this ONE tape and not all my other ones? Who's was it? Was this some... Secret character?

I was aware of characters I hadn't seen in episodes before... Maybe it was one of them? When I looked at the ERTL die-cast models in the catalogues, I would scope out some characters... For some reason, I thought that whistle would belong to one of the narrow-gauge engine characters. Like Skarloey or Rheneas or Duncan or Duke... For some reason, that's what I thought back then. They looked like engines that would have that whistle, to me!

Now comes something different...

At my maternal grandparents' house, this book was in a drawer in the guest room, among other books:

(image above is from an etsy listing. credit where credit is due.)

I'm assuming it belonged to one of my cousins, who used to stay there a lot when he was really young... And like any kid, I looked through whatever picture book there was. Looking at this book today, I will say that I find a lot of Greg Hildebrandt's illustrations to be very pretty.

Also, it's kinda weird that I'm talking about Christmas in freakin' March, but here we are...

Anyways...

There was one illustration in that book that didn't quite sit right with me when I was little:

It had to have been those dead eyes, lol. How wide open they were, a black dot in a white circle, but on a wooden head and not a cartoon character...

The more I thought of it back then, the more it seemed like a Thomas character face... Albeit, a cursed one!

And I started conjuring up, in my mind, a secret Thomas character who had that off-sounding whistle heard on that *one VHS* volume. He had a face like that, and was darker-looking in his livery than the other engines. It's as if I was making my own Thomas creepypasta in my head, at age 6!! I don't recall drawing this engine though, he could've been an early OC for me!

Eventually, I'd find out that none of the engines had that whistle in the show... And that SHINING TIME STATION would return to TV in time for the release of the movie, THOMAS AND THE MAGIC RAILROAD. Some two years after I started getting into this show...

The whistle was from the show's George Carlin seasons. When he'd blow the whistle, it would go to the Thomas story. The same way Ringo Starr did in the show's first season, but his whistle had a different, higher-pitched noise. I had the SHINING TIME STATION Christmas episode on VHS, and that was with Ringo. So, back then, I didn't know that that whistle originated from SHINING TIME STATION.

But still, it was kinda cool that I was imagining this whole other Thomas character. A sorta more sinister and foreboding engine. Almost like a Sonic-dot-exe situation, that I thought up because I didn't like the sound of a random whistle that was nowhere to be heard in the show, that somehow got onto one part of a VHS volume I had, likely due to an editing error or something.

Some shadowy, creepy Nutcracker doll-faced engine lurking within the darker recesses of the show. Maybe if the tape deteriorated enough, you'd catch a glimpse of him amidst the fuzz... I imagined his nameboard, surrounded by thick dark grey smoke. For some reason, a name sounding like "Mico" coming up. Not at all the raccoon from Disney's POCAHONTAS, although "Nico" would be a good villain name for a cursed Thomas character.

And then the engine himself... just peering at me with those beady eyes as the shadowy smoke obscured just about everything else, during the night. It was like a gritty industrial setting more so than the roundhouse sheds...

The "Early Reel of 1983" ain't got nothin' on this one!

#thomas the tank engine #hyperfixations #autism #neurodivergent #weird fears when i was little #i was a weird kid #creepypastas

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orange-ghost · 11 months

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Long post? I've been thinking a lot about Sia's "Music" lately. No, I'm not trying to insult her. I'm talking about the film. Her diagnosis has been all over my timelines, and most people are condemning her for the film's content nonetheless.

I think all the other big Autism accounts have criticized her well enough that I don't need to add on. As they should. They've all said what I wanted to say & I personally won't be forgiving her so easily. But the "Music" fiasco... actually reminds me of how PAPERBOY (my webcomic) was born, in a way?

Matthew & his classmates have lived in my head since 2015. And I remember that when I started PB, I actually didn't know I was Autistic yet, either. At the time, all I knew was that I was a kid in Special Ed, that disability was an unspeakable topic, and that a lot of the people involved in it treated me badly.

Kids' brains are like sponges-- they soak up whatever's around them. And I was raised drowning inside of an awful program. One that didn't show nor teach us respect, acceptance, or anything like that.

I resented, looked down at "certain" kids with the more noticeable disabilities, for "making SPED kids look bad! You're the reason we ALL get seen as less than!" And the thought that I could ever really count as a disabled kid was my worst nightmare. Because in my head, being disabled would mean that all this abuse was justified. And that I was truly & utterly inferior.

And I'd wring out all that nasty thought-process water. It would spill onto the pages of notebooks that became PAPERBOY's first drafts. And oh, believe me, it stained.

But, unlike Sia, I was a kid then. She's grown. She also put that shitty story up for all to see, while mine was restricted to notebooks. And it was only a year or two after I learned about being diagnosed as a baby that the ND movement(s) started blowing up online. So I looked into it, and like... it opened my 14-year-old mind up a lot.

So you know what I started doing? CHANGING THE STORY. Writing a better one. One that was much less hateful. And I changed the core message from "fuck disability, and fuck Special Ed too!" to "being different is not something we should feel punished and pain for. We are a community. And we deserve better."

Autism is neutral & one if the most human things I can think of. It's not to be demonized or glorified. It's not a tragedy, and it's not always some amazing miracle, either. We are people, not props. We deserve to be spoken & storytold about realistically. And we should be embraced at the end of the day. You need to be willing to learn how to listen & respect life's Autistics as they are.

Sia can't undo the real life harm she & her ableism inflicted. I can't, either. But... she CAN choose to change, grow up & out of it, and maybe lead her audience with her. Hopefully, with her new diagnosis, all that time offline, and a crap ton of self-reflection, she can. I mean, I managed, and I'm nowhere near as life-experienced, smart, OR skilled as she is!

Truth be told, I kinda hope she makes another Autism movie? With a big writing team of experienced, Autistic storytellers who know what they're doing. Cast Autistic actors. And instead of writing about somebody that she clearly doesn't see as an equal, she can actually level with them & write them a better story, too. "Music" was dedicated to somebody, right? I think that Somebody deserved a story where they're not just seen, but they're heard. And spotlighted! (Music certainly wasn't.) So... why not try again?

Or hey, maybe not even that, maybe she can try writing from her own experiences as an Autistic woman this time. Growing up undiagnosed, what that was like for her, dealing with a taught self-hatred in a mask that seems to have controlled her life.

I don't know. I like to live my life focusing more on what we CAN do about something instead of doubling down or getting stuck on what we can't. And I think others should, too.

Doubt she's reading this, but like... you've gotta make this right, Sia. Do better. Figure something else out. That's all.

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ericsonclan · 1 year

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Hey guys! Remember me? xD

Yeaaah, I was a little busy, school, drawing, work, life in general, but I played TWDG again with my lil' sister and got some questions, I'd like to ask you. If you still take requests, maybe you do a christmas break or something similar ^^

Sooooo, the questioooons:

-My sister and I argued a lot about that fight Clem had with Marlon. We like it, it's just a bit short in our opinion, but my sister always complains about how fast Clem can beat Marlon, like he's some pushover compared to other enemies we encounter in the game (or games in general). And in my opinion, he's got a little handicap there, being at the edge of a real breakdown, a physical breakdown too. It's not really animated, but winning a duel with shaking hands is, eh... hard xD Anyway, my question is, do you think, Marlon would be able to beat Clem in a real fight, when he's got his head in the game? He took to kicks from her straight to the guts and didn't faint immediately, for which I'm blaming the adrenaline, but it's still a little impressive, didn't expect that from him, hehe

-What do you think the Ericson Kid's favorite meals were, before they had to rely on a little bit of soup? Imagine Omar having a real kitchen in there, man....

-Welllll, who do you think would be the most motivated for Christmas? My personal guess is Louis, but also secretly Violet, because maybe she just doesn't want to show how much she really loves the affection they all give each other then...

-When you look at the Ericson Kids, which music genre pops up in your mind? For real, I got a whole part of my Drawing Music Album for each of my favorites, if I don't listen to that while drawing them, I won't ever get it right xD Drew Marlon and AJ the other day and my god, I never listend to Metal for such a long time. That's six hours straight, Sabaton, Metallica, Man 'o War, Metal Covers....

-Rather an awkward question, but my sister wanted me to ask, so here it is - You think there's anyone who doesn't like hot chocolate? Almost all of them are kids, sooo... there's not much chance, but my sister said she can't see Aasim drink hot chocolate for some reason, weird, I know xD

Alright, that's it from me for now!

Wish you all the best and happy holidays! Stay safe!

Our requests are always open and we're happy to answer more questions.

For the first question Marlon vs Clem who would win in a fight: We think that Clementine would still win. We think that Marlon would put up a pretty decent fight but since Clementine has had to experience more life or death situations and has gotten into more fights so she has the skills needed to win.

Oh man Omar with a real kitchen then the Ericson kids would really be having feasts every day.

Let's see favorite meals or food...

Clementine: She loves pancakes specifically chocolate chip pancakes. She could eat those all day every day

Louis: Those PB & J's uncrustables. Definitely not what people would think is rich people food and isn't but Louis loved to buy some and stealthily eating them in his room

AJ: Ants on a log, that snack with celery that has peanut butter and raisins on them

Violet: Chicken nuggets but that's the obvious choice given you can hear about it in the game so we're also gonna add Craft Mac and Cheese. It was one of her comfort foods growing up

Marlon: Meatloaf, specifically his mom's meatloaf. He'd claim it was the best meal in the world and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss it when he got sent to Ericson

Brody: Fruit salad it's something fresh and sweet and she liked switching the fruits ever now and again when it was made

Mitch: Burgers. He loves them especially bacon burgers. He'd punch someone in the face for a bacon burger

Willy: Applesauce he loved it before the apocalypse happened and he was dancing on the picnic tables when he learned that they could use the apples from the apple tree they had to make some for everyone. He also liked those beef sticks that you can get at the checkout at grocery stores he'd scarf those up like there's no tomorrow

Tenn: Peanut butter, banana and honey sandwiches that was his go to and he could eat them for the rest of his life

Omar: Brussel sprouts with candied bacon. His grandma had a great recipe for them and he always wishes that he could make them again some day

Sophie: Grilled cheese sandwiches. Damn she loved that food and she had suggest at one point that they make the trek out to the nearest town in hopes of finding ingredients for it

Minnie: Not a meal but she loves gummy worms and would always be snacking on them while she worked on her music

Ruby: BBQ and all the fixin's. Ribs, brisket, pulled pork she loves it all

Aasim: Lamb vindaloo it was something that he grew up on and his mom always made so it has a special place in his heart

Who's motivated the most for Christmas: Louis for sure he only keeps track of days so he knows when holidays, birthdays and anniversaries are. Ruby absolutely loves decorating and loves all that Christmas time symbolizes. Brody is in a similar vein with that and finds wintertime magical. Violet also really loves Christmas even if she couldn't do much to celebrate it growing up. She'd mainly spend the day with her grandparents and mom and had a small celebration. So she was surprised when Louis brought up the idea that they should celebrate Christmas even after the world had ended but she was glad that he did.

Okay music genres. I don't know if we have specific ones for all the Ericson kids so we might just add a few here for what we associate them with

Marlon: Classic Rock: Queen, The Who, The Doors music like that. To us he just gives those vibes

Louis: Classical music and really soft and cheesy love songs

Ruby: Country Music

Violet: Not a genre but usually quiet or somber music

This is an interesting question I'd say most of all the kids like or love hot chocolate. We agree that Aasim wouldn't be the biggest fan of it but he'd probably drink it around Ruby since she loves it.

Thanks for the ask and we hope you had a safe and fun holiday!

#twdg #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg aj #twdg marlon #twdg violet #twdg mitch #twdg brody #twdg willy #twdg tenn #twdg omar #twdg sophie #twdg minnie #twdg ruby #twdg aasim #rusim #asks

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