#masterpost: ❌

[the-amazing-digital-mafia]

oh girl she look mad

[fallenbratfiction]

Bambi ~ Part one

series masterpost here pedro pascal masterlist

a/n: this is quite long, I hope it keeps you fed while I prepare the next part!! feedback is always welcomed!! i will be gnawing at the bars of my enclosure ok bye!

mentions: post-outbreak / apocalyptic setting, dubcon/coercion themes, blood mention, obsession/possessiveness, power imbalance, reader is of age (above 18), naive reader (soft/innocent/inexperienced), fingering, non-explicit violence & threats, gun use, manipulation & emotional control, possessiveness, praise kink, possible other kinks, punishments,, “daddy” kink, shared reader (Joel x Reader x Tommy), pet names (Bambi, sweet girl, good girl, our girl), domestic elements turned dark, mental confusion & emotional overwhelm, morally gray to fully unhinged dark Miller brothers

Reader discretion strongly advised. Dark themes throughout. Minors DNI ❌ This is a work of fiction and does not reflect healthy or ideal relationships!!! 

Do not copy, translate or claim any of my work as your own. 

⟡━━━ ✦ 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗳𝗶𝗰 ahead ✦ ━━━⟡

The forest is quiet at night, too quiet for its own sake. There used to be more life out here. Crickets chirping. Frogs croaking. Birds or bats darting through the dark sky. Now there’s nothing. Just still trees and dead air, like the whole forest is holding its breath.

“You know what I miss the most about the woods?” Joel asks, voice low as he walks beside his brother, their shotguns slung across their backs.

 Tommy turns to him and huffs, waiting for his brother to respond to his question.“Deers” Tommy hums in approval, “Used to see ‘em all the time, this time of night.” 

“You miss watchin’ ‘em or huntin’ ‘em?”  Tommy snorts, Joel huffs a quiet laugh—

—and then it happens.

A sudden flash of motion cuts through the trees. Small, fast. Barely there.

Both of them stop. 

Silence. 

Alert. 

They are quick to grab their shotguns and scan the shadows with their guns pointed, expecting another movement. Eyes sharp, bodies tensed. 

Joel’s voice drops, almost amused. “Well, speak of the devil…”

Tommy steps forward, eyes narrowed. “You saw that?”

Joel is already scanning the brush. “Yeah. Could’ve been a rabbit. Could’ve been somethin’ else.”

Another motion. Left this time. Farther.

They both turn, guns half-lifted.

Joel mutters, “Whatever it is, it’s movin’ smart.”

Tommy nods. “Too smart.”

A beat passes. Then Joel speaks.

“Split?”

“Yeah,” Tommy says, already turning to flank. “We circle the woods. If it’s still out here—we’ll find it.”

They part in silence, each splitting through the trees like they already know the drill, they’ve done this a hundred times by now. 

Joel moves through the right,  slow and deliberate, each of his steps deliberate. Meanwhile, Tommy veers to the other direction; his steps are lighter and his eyes cut through the dark like a blade, scanning everything in sight.

You’re out there moving fast, barefoot and running out of air. Your legs are tired and bruised from all the times you’ve tripped. You don’t know how far you’ve gotten by now, but you can’t risk it, you can’t risk being found by him. 

You’re trying your best, but panic keeps you clumsy, and every snap of a branch is louder than it should be. The leaves rustle with every move you make, which guides Joel closer to your location. 

You don’t know they are close. 

They don’t know if you’re a wild animal, a person, or just an illusion. 

They’re not here to hurt you, but you don’t know that. They are just as curious as you, and just as cautious. 

They keep circling you, it’s like a never-ending game. They move, you move, they move again. Joel on one side, Tommy on the other. Each move draws the noose tighter, but they don’t know how close they are yet; they just feel it. 

You’re not trying to be found, but you’ve been on the run for long enough now. Your body aches, and your vision is blurry from the adrenaline and the fact that, along the way, you had lost your glasses. You weave through the trees, ducking under branches and trunks of trees, your hands in front of you leading the way until your foot catches around thorns. 

You don’t scream or cry, but it’s evident you’ve fallen due to the solid thud of your body hitting the ground. The game is over; they’ve found you. Joel turns and runs in your direction. Tommy, though a bit further, hears the sound as well and freezes. 

Branches hit Joel’s body as he pushes forward through the forest, deeper into the darkness, with only his flashlight in hand, his shotgun lowered in his other hand. 

And that's when he finds you curled on the ground, legs smeared with dirt as well as your clothes, and your hair is a tangled mane with leaves. You stare at the figure of Joel like a deer caught in the headlights. Your eyes are wide, frozen. 

He just stands there looking at you, neither of you says a word. A part of him relaxes, you’re just a girl. His eyes then trail over your shape, too small, too soft, too human. 

“Huh, not exactly what I expected to find.” He murmurs mostly to himself. 

Joel keeps the flashlight on your face just enough to keep you stunned, your eyes don’t leave the light, too afraid to move, and quite honestly, too blinded to know what to do next, but your body remains tense, muscles twitching like you’re ready to bolt and run in any direction.

You watch him as he moves two fingers close to his mouth and lets out a specific whistle, alerting someone else that he has found you. Low and controlled, he repeats it for Tommy to hear and waits for his response. 

Tommy whistles back as he makes his way to Joel, and to you now as well. 

Joel crouches slowly as if he were face to face with a wild, wounded animal. You don’t move at all. You don’t know who or what he is or what his intentions are. Joel is checking to see if you were infected. Thankfully, your short dress allowed him to inspect your body without getting too close. He’s seen enough infected people by now to know what to look for and how they look alike. He also looks to check if you carry any weapons on you, investigating what kind of girl you are. 

Were you a savage? 

Were you running from danger? 

Were you lost? 

“You gon bite me if I touch you?” he asks in a low voice. You don’t answer, just shake your head, barely breathing. “Alright then, let’s see what you are.” 

He gets slightly closer now, you can feel his breathing close to yours, and the warmth that radiates from his body. Joel kneels right in front of you, flashlight set on the ground gently. He scans your body, not touching yet. 

“Were you hurt?” he asks softly, afraid to scare you off. “Can you tell me your name? Where you come from?” 

You don’t make a sound, just blink up at him slowly, your chest rising and falling like the adrenaline is coming down. He watches your face, tight with fear and filthy with dirt, and he reaches out to you with his arm slowly. His fingers are rough, but he remains gentle nonetheless. 

He moves the hair from your face, gently cradles your chin as he looks into your eyes, before lowering his sight to check for scratches.

Your eyes are clear. Not infected, checked. 

Lips are dry, but no blood or foam in sight. 

No signs of a bite. 

Joel shifts closer, now checking your arms, elbows, and shoulders as he scans for any wounds or shivers. You don’t move at all the whole time. Too scared to try anything or make him think you would do something. 

“My name is Joel,” he says, meeting your eyes again, “I’m not here to hurt you, understand me?” 

You stare at him for a beat too long, Joel wonders if you can even speak at all. 

You nod once, small but enough for him to catch. 

Joel exhales like he’s been holding his breath this whole time. Encountering you feels like an encounter with a deer, wide-eyed, silent, frightened and too delicate for this kind of world.

Yet still alive, and perhaps willing to be led. 

The moment is interrupted by the appearance of Tommy. 

Branches crack under his boots as he pushed through the brush, eyes sharp and his gun still raised. His flashlight lands on Joel, then on you. 

“What the hell?” 

Joel lifts a hand. “Easy. Put it down Tommy” 

Tommy doesn’t move at first, his gaze set on your dirt smeared wide eyes as you stare back at him. 

“She infected?” he asks, voice low. 

“No” Joel says “Not infected, not hurt either. I checked” 

Tommy hesitates and Joel asks him to put down the gun again. He obligues, slow and careful like defusing a bomb. 

Joel turns back to you “C’mon sweetheart, let me help you up” 

He reaches for you, carefully. You hesitate and after a pause you take his hand.

Tommy watches your legs tremble as you rise, body sluggish, muscles weak from exhaustion but you don’t stumble. It’s like watching Bambi trying to stand. 

You move behind Joel. 

Your hand curls tight around the fabric of his sleeves, fingers digging into his forearm enough to anchor yourself. You watch Tommy as you hide behind Joel’s shoulder. 

Joel doesn’t flinch but Tommy watches you closely. 

“You trust him already?” he asks. 

You don’t respond, but Joel does. 

“She doesn’t know me,” 

Yet still you stand right there, behind a man you just met.

Joel feels the way your figure warms his back, looking for warmth yourself, your fingers digging into his arm and hears your staggering breaths. 

You don’t know him at all, but you know he’s not the one you’re running from. Neither is Tommy, although you’re just as skeptical as him. Your nose twitches slightly catching smells. The men scent, wood, sweat, trees and dirt.

They smell like the woods, like safety in a way that confuses you. 

You don’t know why you lean into trusting them, but you do. 

“Well shit, what did we just find?” Tommy mutters finally “What do we do about her?” 

Joel doesn’t answer. His hand rises, steady and low and rests over yours on his arm. You feel the calloused rough palm set on top of your frozen hand. 

It’s not spoken, but they both seem to have agreed to take you back to their cabin. 

They lead you through the forest path, Joel at your side while Tommy walks behind watching the two of you. His gun is still lowered but his arm remains tense. 

The flashlight leads the way and cuts forward, flickering over roots and moss. The arm that’s not gripping Joel presses against trees, guiding yourself through your senses like you don’t trust the flashlight enough. 

Joel keeps a close eye on you, glancing over in case your legs give out and he has to carry you himself at any given moment. The two of you are silent, but Tommy though, he’s certainly not quiet. 

“So where do you come from?” he starts, voice firm as he asks a thousand questions. “You got family out here? Camp nearby? You run off from someone?” 

You turn your head to look at him, your lips parted but you don’t emit an answer. You neither shake or nod your head. 

Tommy keeps asking questions. 

“Why were you running?” Still nothing. “You look like you’ve been out here for a while, someone chasing you?” 

You swallow hard, your steps falter and you almost trip. 

You turn your head forward, focusing on your steps that you barely see. 

“I’m talkin’ to you” Tommy says now louder. 

You flinch at the tone of his voice. Head ducking and your body curling to Joel’s looking for a sense of protection. 

“I–” you don’t remember a single thing, memories blur as you try to think of what to say. “I– I don’t know” 

“You don’t know?” He scoffs and stops walking. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You don’t know?” 

You shrink back instantly. His tone, the pressure of his questions and the rapid fire of them banging at the door. If you weren’t holding yourself so tightly to Joel right now, you’d flee like a scared deer. 

“Enough questions now, Tommy” Joel cuts in, exhausted from the scene. “Let’s get her inside and we can keep going at this there” 

“Oh so we’re bringing complete strangers into the cabin now. That’s great” 

“Tommy–”

“What if this is a trap, huh? What if she’s not alone? What if there’s a group of people expecting for us to be at the door and storm in? What if they’re waiting for us to drag her inside?” 

Joel hesitates. 

He doesn’t want to believe a word he says, he doesn’t think any of it its true. 

They both turn to you. You’ve gone silent again with the tone of Tommy’s voice. 

Their flashlight catching your face again. 

Lips parted. Eyes glossy filled with fear. Trembling breaths.

Not the kind of fear you feel from hiding something, rather the kind of fear when you’re about to break. 

You’re a deer caught in the headlights. Too scared to breathe, lie or even run away.

If you knew anything or had any kind of information, you’d spill the second they push harder. 

“Let’s just get her inside first.” 

The door creaks open and you step into a bubble of warmth. Your leggs stutter as you cross the threshold. Fire crackles somewhere in the corner, inside a black box. 

Their scent is so much stronger inside the cabin, it smells of pine, smoke and whiskey. 

There’s a couch sitting under a large window, it’s covered with a few worn in blankets and a jacket lays in the arm rest. There’s a small kitchen good enough for both of them to make use of it  and a wooden table with four chairs. 

Tommy shuts the door behind you and stays near it. Joel on the other hand, moves slowly, guiding you over to the couch. 

“You can take a seat” he offers “You’re safe” 

You hover over to the couch but you don’t sit just yet. You’re not sure what to do with all this warmth, the cushions, the blankets. 

Joel sighed and heads to the kitchen, you watch as he takes a can and sets it on the surface. He pours into a bowl and brings it back to you. The smell of stew becomes more intense with every step he takes in your direction. 

You stare at the bowl in his hands like it’s a test. What even is it? Is it really for you?

“You should eat something” he says gently. 

You look up at him, then back at the bowl, then at him again before taking the bowl from his hands slowly. 

Tommy watches the whole scene and mutters under his breath. “Yeah, totally not suspicious” 

“Tommy” Joel shoots him a look, “She’s probaby  in shock” 

“She’s in something”

You flinch again and Joel catches it. He takes the bowl from your hands and sets it on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

“Alright, you can eat when you’re ready” he murmurs “We will give you space.” 

He backs away, nodding toward the kitchen. Tommy hesitates, then follows—just a few meters, not far. Not out of earshot. Definitely not out of sight.

Joel opens the fridge with a soft creak, pulls out two beers, and offers one wordlessly. Tommy takes it, eyes never leaving you as he brings the bottle to his lips.

No one speaks.

The fire crackles quietly, casting dancing shadows along the floor. Somewhere outside, the wind brushes against the cabin walls like a whisper.

You hear your own breath, and then – your stomach growls. Loud. Desperate.

The sound feels foreign, you hadn’t heard it in a while and it seemed your body just remembered it needs something. 

Legs folding beneath you as you sink onto the edge of the couch, cautious and unsure. Your fingers reach for the bowl Joel left behind. 

You inspect the bowl before you take a bite, stirring the thick mixture—bits of potato, carrot, some kind of meat. You don’t care what any of it is. The stew hits your tongue, a warm salty flavour that seems to wake up a memory. It’s so distant in your mind that you can’t reach it. 

They both watch you as you eat from the bowl, Tommy leans on the counter, his expression unreadable. Joel is less obvious as he drinks his beer.

You finish the last bit of stew and the spoon clinks softly against the bowl. You set it back on the table and Joel takes it as a signal to move closer, perhaps you’re ready to talk now. 

You clean your mouth with the back of your hand and rest it on your lap, anchoring yourself to the couch. 

Joel’s boots step closer, slowly through the wooden floor. He crouches down beside you at eye level while Tommy watches from the kitchen. He’s still suspicious—but something in his gaze shifts. Just a little. Less predator. More puzzled. Curious.

“You remember anything yet?” 

You stay in silence and shut your eyes tightly. As if you could squeeze the memories, look through your skull for any piece of information. And it does, but its not what you want. It’s far too painful to open that door inside your memory lane. 

There’s a shotgun, your mother screaming, crying in pain and lots of blood. And then running endlessly. Your breath tearing through your lungs, your barefeet raw agains stone and soil. Your glasses fall somewhere in the middle of the road. 

You gasp and your eyes open – wide and glassy. 

Joel doesn’t move an inch. 

Tommy straightens, his jaw tightens. 

“What was it?” he asks gently. You shake your head. 

“I don’t…I don’t know” you whisper, your voice hoarse from not having spoken in so long. 

“Try” Tommy says from the kitchen, you both turn your heads to him and you nod. 

“There was…blood. And someone crying. I think—I think it was my mom” 

Joel’s gaze darkens but his voice stays at the same level as before. “You remember a name? Yours? Hers?”

You shake your head again, frustrated at the lack of memory. 

Tommy shifts his weight and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Jesus, what happened to you?” 

You look down at your lap, Joel interrupts. “You’re safe now, that’s what matters”

But are you really safe? With them? 

You want to feel safe, a part of the warmth allows you to. 

But there’s something left unsaid, something you quite haven’t figured out yet. 

Joel takes the blankets without saying a word and moves slowly over you. You’ve curled yourself on your side, he set a cushion under your head. He tucks the edges so the blanket doesn’t slip when you turn. 

You don’t move at all. 

Not when his hand pauses near your shoulder, not when he lingers too long watching your face in the soft flicker of firelight. Joel pulls back, leaving you alone on the couch and you heard the floorboards creaking under his boots. He turns to Tommy and signals to go outside to talk in private.

You can’t sleep. 

You should be exhausted due to all the running and the adrenaline rush, but your body remains alert. You hear them talking somewhere near the window, their voices low like the things they’re saying are not meant for your ears. 

Your eyes stay shut, breaths slow and steady. 

“What are we going to do with her?” Tommy murmurs. 

Joel doesn’t answer right away. 

“You saw her,” he says after a beat “She’s got no one. Not a memory, not even a name” 

“Yeah, not even a single survival instinct” he scoffs. Joel nods slow, agreeing with Tommy. 

The silence stretches long enough for both of them to sigh. 

“We’re keeping her” Joel says after a beat. 

“You serious?” Tommy turns to him “Joel, this isn’t some dog we found in the woods” 

“No, it’s not a dog, it’s a deer if anything. You saw her wide-eyes staring at our flashlights like a deer caught. She’s lucky we found her first” 

Your chest tightens as you listen to Joel’s voice. 

“The way she followed me, grabbed my arm. Like i was hers, like i was her anchor if something bad were to happen” he pauses “It means everything” 

“You like her?” Tommy turns to Joel, their eyes meet. Joel doesn’t answer. “I do too”

More silence. 

“We’ll take care of her” 

Joel flicks ash off his cigarette and says nothing, he turns to look at the cabin as if you could hear them through the walls. He wishes you could. 

You curl deeper under the blanket. The fabric still smells like firewood and soap and something faintly like him.

And behind your eyelids, all you can see is that shotgun again. The blood. Your mother’s scream.

And their voices now too. 

Eventually your body gave out. Not from safety but pure exhaustion that had clawed its way through your body. You didn’t dream of anything. Didn’t make it to the edge of a nightmare. 

Just completely blacked out. But before sleep took you, you’d felt them. 

The cabin door opened and you could hear quiet steps across the floor. You remained still with your eyes closed. Joel stood near you, close enough to feel. Then Tommy did as well. Neither of them touched you but you could feel their gaze before they each went to their rooms. 

Next morning 

You wake up to the smell of bacon. 

Salt and smoke and something almost sweet. Maple perhaps? Your eyes flutter slowly, vision still clouded with sleep. 

Joel is in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, a pan sizzling in front of him. The morning light cuts through the window in long slats casting a golden color over the room. 

Tommy is already awake. He’s sitting at the table, leaned back in the chair, a mug in hand. He’s not drinking, just holding it. Watching you. 

You sit up slowly and the blanket slips off your shoulder, pooling down your side. His eyes follow and look at your bare skin. He doesn’t look away, just looks harder. He’s not being subtle in the slightest and he knows it. 

Your throat tightens and you shift, you pull the blanket back like an armor and Tommy watches as you do. 

Joel glances over his shoulder as he serves the bacon in three different plates. “She’s up” 

“She sure is” Tommy’s gaze lingers for a moment before taking a sip. 

You feel uneasy, not unsafe but the way he’s staring at you like he could eat you right there and then was disturbing.Just yesterday, he didn’t want to let you inside the cabin. Now, you can feel it in his silence:He wouldn’t be able to let you out.

Joel, on the other hand, moves like nothing’s wrong.

He sets two plates on the table, one in front of the empty seat—yours. He nods at it casually, then looks down at you with a faint, unreadable smile.

“Here you go, Bambi.”

Your brows pull slightly. “What?”

“Figured since you don’t remember a name,” he says, setting down a mug of something warm—tea surely—“we might as well call you somethin’.”

You blink at him. Bambi. You should protest. But you don’t.

“That alright with you?” Tommy smiles at you. 

You just nod, slow, your stomach fluttering in ways you can’t explain.

The nickname clings to you like smoke. Innocent, sweet—and completely theirs.

You pull out the chair with a soft scrape and sit down, directly across from them. Tommy starts eating his plate of bacon while you stare down at yours as if trying to figure out what it is. 

“So we talked last night,” Joel starts as he takes a seat and relaxes back into the chair, chatting like its an everyday breakfast. You glance up at him, his voice is warm and calm.

 “You’re going to be staying with us,” he adds “if you want to, of course.” 

He lets the words sit there, lets you feel the kindness in them. Like you have a say.

But the truth seeps in anyway.

Where would you go?

Who would you find out there? Would you have food? A warm place to sleep? Would anyone keep you safe the way they would?

You hesitate.

Not because you’re unsure of the answer.

But because you know you’ve already lost the choice.

Joel watches you with a steady, comforting gaze—like he knows you’re working it all out. Like he’s giving you time to accept the truth.

And then Tommy speaks.

His voice is quieter this time. Measured. Different from the way he barked at you in the woods.

“Look,” he says, leaning slightly forward, elbows braced on the table. “I know I was... rough yesterday.”

You don’t meet his eyes.

He notices. He softens further.

“I get it. You’re scared. That’s fair.”

Tommy’s voice is lower now, softer than you’ve ever heard it. No edge, no sharpness—just quiet understanding. He offers the faintest smile. 

Trying to shape himself into something gentle. Something safe.

“But you don’t gotta be scared of us,” he says, eyes fixed on yours. “Ever.”

You glance away, uncertain.

He leans in just a little, voice dropping further—soothing, almost tender.

“We just want you to feel safe. That’s one of the many things we can offer you, if you let us.”

You swallow.

The words settle deep. Deeper than you want to admit. There’s no threat in them—but somehow, they still hold weight.

If you let us.

As if there’s a choice.

As if you haven’t already been folded into the center of their world without even realizing it.

Joel stays quiet, letting Tommy do the talking. But his eyes are on you, steady. 

The air feels thick.

You grip your fork tighter. Your eyes burn, but not with tears—just heat, tension, exhaustion.

And still—something in you wants to believe him. Wants to believe it could be that simple.

You nod, barely.

And your voice—quiet, hoarse, uncertain—slips out before you can stop it.

“...Okay.”

Just one word.

But Joel shifts when he hears it.

His eyes flick toward Tommy, then back to you. There’s something unreadable in his expression—something settled.

Tommy leans back slightly in his chair, but not far. Like he’s giving you space, but not too much.

Like he’s proud of himself.

Joel speaks next, quieter than before.

“Good, Bambi,” Joel says, voice low and easy. “Happy to have you on board.”

You give him a small smile—tight, unsure. But you offer it anyway.

And that’s more than enough.

He sees it. Feels it.

That flicker of willingness, of trust—however faint—is all he needs.

His hand brushes his thigh as he stands. “Why don’t you finish your breakfast,” he says, gesturing to your full plate, “and we’ll find you something clean to wear.”

You glance down at your clothes—mud-streaked, torn at the hem, dried blood in places you don’t want to think about.

You nod, quiet again. “Okay.”

Tommy stands too, stretching his arms, voice light. “Reckon we got some stuff she can use in the back. Closet’s got a few things.”

Joel takes his and Tommy’s plate and heads to the sink to clean up while you dive into your bacon and eggs. 

“How’s the taste, Bambi?” he asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You pause, blinking at him. Chewing.

“It’s good,” you say softly, then add—because it feels expected—“Thank you.”

His smile deepens. Not smug. Not proud. Just… satisfied.

“Good girl,” he murmurs under his breath as he turns back to the sink.

You’re not sure if he meant for you to hear that. But you do. And it settles deep.

Tommy returns from the hallway with a modest pile of clothes in his arms—folded, clean, and smelling faintly like cedar and something deeper beneath it.

“There weren’t many options,” he says, setting them down neatly on the couch, “but it’s more than I thought we had.”

You glance at the stack. An old flannel. A plain black hoodie. Two shirts. Pants. Sweatpants. Even a pair of underwear—too big, but clean.

You blink. It’s more than you expected. More than you’ve had in a long time.

Tommy takes a step back and gives you a quick once-over—not leering, but assessing. His gaze lingers just enough to make your stomach tighten.

“Think you might wanna get cleaned up first,” he says, tone still easy. “When’s the last time you took a shower?”

You look down at yourself—dirt-streaked skin, dried blood on your arms, your clothes stiff with sweat and earth. Your face grows hot.

You’ve been so focused on their scent. So taken by the safety, the fire, the comfort of not being alone—

You forgot your own.

Do you stink?

You shift in your seat, suddenly self-conscious. You don’t meet his eyes. You just shake your head slowly.

Tommy nods once and gestures down the hallway. “Bathroom’s the first door on the right. Hot water still works. Use whatever you need.”

Joel speaks up from the sink. “We’ll keep your breakfast warm.”

You stand, hands curling around the blanket at your chest.

Still watching. Still being watched.

The hallway is dim, the floor cool beneath your bare feet as you move toward the door Tommy pointed out. You clutch the pile of clothes against your chest, the blanket slipping away behind you.

The bathroom is small but clean. A mirror above the sink, fogged slightly from earlier use. You can still smell them in here—soap, cologne, cedarwood.

You lock the door.

Not because you think they’ll barge in.

But because it’s the first time since arriving that you’re alone.

You exhale shakily and set the clothes on the edge of the sink. There’s a towel waiting for you, neatly folded on a stool. A bar of soap. A bottle of shampoo that smells vaguely like pine and smoke. And draped carefully over the hook behind the door— a shirt.

Too big. Soft cotton. Joel’s, clearly.

You know it before you even touch it. You’ve smelled it on him, in the air, in the kitchen. It's clean, yes—but it carries him.

Your hand trembles as you reach for the hem of your shirt. You strip slowly, peeling away the days-old clothes, layer by layer, like skin that no longer belongs to you.

You avoid the mirror.

You don’t want to see yourself like this—hollow-eyed, bruised, thin.

You step into the shower.

When the water hits you—hot, real—it almost breaks you. You brace a hand on the wall, forehead pressed to cool tile, body trembling under the weight of heat and memory.

You don’t cry.

You just breathe. Shallow, shaky. Like you’re still hiding in the woods.

When you finish, you dry off and reach for the clothes. You pull on the underwear—too loose. The sweatpants—soft, drawstring pulled tight. And then…

Joel’s shirt.

It slips over your body, down past your thighs, sleeves hanging low. You wrap your arms around yourself instinctively, inhaling the scent baked into the fabric.

You step out of the bathroom, warm skin wrapped in softness—Joel’s shirt, pulled from the hook behind the door. It’s not the one Tommy had folded for you. It’s not even one either of them offered.

You just… took it.

It hangs loose over your frame, the sleeves swallowing your hands. Paired with the sweatpants—drawstring cinched tight at your waist—you feel strangely small. Hidden. Safe.

You walk barefoot into the main room, fingers tucked into the hem of the shirt. Your hair is still damp, clinging to your neck.

Tommy’s sitting at the table, lacing up his boots. Jacket already on. About to leave.

Joel is leaning back in his chair, cradling a mug in one hand. His gaze finds you the moment you walk in—and stays there.

Not moving. Not blinking.

Tommy glances up at the sound of your footsteps. 

You hesitate, arms tightening around yourself just slightly. “It’s… all a bit big but…” you say quietly, eyes flicking to him. “Uhm… thank you, Tommy.”

His gaze dips over the outfit—familiar fabric. Joel’s shirt. “No problem, Bambi,” he says with a soft smile. “We’ll find you proper clothes real soon.”

Joel doesn’t say anything.

But you feel his attention settle on the shirt. The way it drapes over your frame. The way you picked his without being told. Something shifts in his eyes, he’s got that look again—like you’re already his, and now you’ve confirmed it.

He sets his mug down and rises to his feet slowly.

“You hungry?” he asks, voice calm. “We kept your plate.”

You nod.

And when he walks past you to reheat the food, his hand brushes gently along your back. Barely there.

You eat slowly, the warmth of the food grounding you more than you expect.

The cabin feels quiet this morning. Still. The kind of stillness that hints at routine, at repetition. You watch as Tommy zips up his jacket, slings a rifle over his shoulder like it’s second nature.

He moves with practiced rhythm. Comfortable. Like he’s done this a hundred times before.

And you wonder—what is this?

What do they do all day?

How far do they go?

Where do you fit into that rhythm?

You swallow your bite, fingers tightening slightly around your fork.

“Tommy?” you ask, voice quiet, gentle—like it’s not even your place to know where he goes. 

He turns, halfway to the door. “Yeah?”

You hesitate for a moment.

“Where are you going?”

He pauses, then lets out a small breath, turning fully to face you.

“Just out on a run,” he says. “Checkin’ the perimeter, makin’ sure the traps are still set. Gotta keep this place safe.”

You nod, looking down again.

It’s not the answer that matters. It’s the fact that you asked.

Joel glances at you from across the room, something flickering in his expression. You don’t see it—but Tommy does.

“Joel’ll stay with you,” Tommy adds after a beat. “You’ll be alright.”

You nod again, smaller this time.

Joel, still watching, sets your reheated plate down in front of you and murmurs, “You can ask things like that, y’know.”

You blink up at him.

Joel’s voice is warm. Steady. But there’s a weight under it.

“You live here now, Bambi,” he says. “That makes this your place too.”

And something about that… feels final.

The door clicks shut behind Tommy, and for the first time since last night—it’s just you and Joel.

The quiet returns, thicker now. It settles in the cabin like fog.

Joel clears his throat as he moves to the sink, rinsing your empty plate. “You eat good?”

You nod. “Yeah. Thank you.”

He glances at you over his shoulder. “You’re polite. That’s good.”

You don’t know how to respond to that.

He dries his hands and leans against the counter, just watching you for a moment. Not in a way that makes you shrink—more like he’s thinking something he’s not saying.

Then, his voice lowers slightly. “You look better.”

You blink up at him.

“In clean clothes,” he adds, gesturing to the shirt you took. “In mine.”

Your face warms. You hug your arms across your stomach.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it.”

He shakes his head, stepping toward you. “Don’t be sorry. I like it.” 

Joel’s closer now, only a few feet away.

The fire cracks gently. Rain starts tapping at the windows. The outside world dulls, disappears.

“You tired?” he asks.

You shrug. “A little.”

Joel nods toward the couch. “Wanna rest? I’ll sit with you a while. Won’t talk if you don’t want me to.”

You hesitate.

But you nod.

He sits first, leaning back on the cushions, legs spread. He pats the space beside him.

“C’mere.”

You sit beside him slowly, careful not to brush too close. But the couch is small, and your shoulder rests against his bicep.

His warmth seeps into you.

His scent as well.

You don’t speak. You just sit there, soaking in the quiet.

And then—Joel shifts slightly.

His hand lifts. Not fast, not forceful. Just rises and curls gently over the back of your neck. His thumb brushes the edge of your jaw.

You turn your head slightly, looking up at him.

“You okay?” he asks, voice lower now. Almost a whisper.

You nod. “Mhm.”

And you mean it.

For the first time in a long time, you feel okay.

Joel leans in just enough that you feel his breath against your temple.

“You don’t ever have to be scared with me.”

He presses a kiss to your temple. Barely.

And it lingers longer than it should.

Joel's hand remains at the back of your neck, thumb brushing absentmindedly at your hairline, slow and steady. The kind of touch meant to soothe. But it does more than that.

It roots you. Tethers you. Pulls you closer to something you don’t quite understand yet.

You don’t think about it when you shift. Just a soft movement—turning into him, resting your temple against his chest.

You didn’t mean to invite anything.

But Joel took it as one. 

Then his arm wraps around your waist, firm and deliberate, pulling you the rest of the way in until you’re practically in his lap.

Your thighs straddle his. His palm spreads across the small of your back.

You freeze for a moment—not out of fear, but surprise. Your hands rest flat on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath them.

Joel doesn’t move.

He just watches you. His eyes low. Lidded. Dark.

“You okay?” he asks again, voice like gravel and smoke.

You nod, slower this time.

“Good,” he says.

His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing just under your eye. His gaze flicks across your face—your lips, your throat, your lashes. He’s not pretending to be subtle anymore.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

You swallow.

His fingers trail along your jaw, then down to your collarbone—his shirt hanging off one shoulder, slipping just enough to expose skin.

He doesn’t rush. Doesn’t push, but his grip on your waist tightens.

And when he leans in again—closer this time, his nose brushing your cheek—he whispers,

“Feel good, don’t it? Bein’ taken care of?”

You nod before you realize you’re doing it.

Joel smiles at that, knowing what he’s causing you while you’re sitting on him. The second your body suddenly starts reacting, he clocks it. 

Not to mock you or shame you. He uses it to train you. 

You feel… safe. Anchored.

But also— Something else.

A pressure. A warmth that’s begun to build under your skin. Between your thighs. Inside you.

You shift again, just a little.

And that’s when you feel it.

Him.

Hard. Solid beneath you.

Your breath hitches, and your thighs instinctively press together over his. Your body feels strange—hot, sensitive, like it’s humming. And you don’t understand it fully. But it’s there.

Joel doesn’t move. 

His voice cuts through the silence,  his voice—low, rough around the edges- curls into your ear like smoke. “Somethin’ bothering you, Bambi?”

You blink slowly, your brow furrowing.

You don’t want to lie.

So you nod. Just once. Tiny.

Joel hums quietly as his palm strokes slowly down your spine.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I thought so.”

You shift again, uncomfortable, but not wanting to leave. Wanting something else. Something you don’t have a name for.

Joel tilts his head, eyes dragging over your flushed cheeks, parted lips.

“Need me to take care of that, Bambi?”

You glance up, eyes wide, searching his face for the answer—because you’re not sure what’s happening to your body, only that it feels overwhelming.

You’re hoping he knows the answer.

Because you surely don’t.

So you nod again, causing Joel to smile.

He takes your hand gently and guides it down, resting it over the hard line straining beneath his jeans. The heat of him throbs through the fabric, solid and undeniable.

“Feel what you do to me?” he asks, voice low, roughened with restraint.

You blink, fingers twitching slightly against the pressure. You can’t speak. You just look at him—uncertain, dazed.

Joel’s hips roll up, slow and heavy, grinding against your palm as his grip tightens on your wrist.

You gasp—sharp and surprised—and immediately drop your gaze, cheeks burning.

He catches your chin with two fingers, tilting your face back to his.

“Uh-uh,” he murmurs. “No shame in that.”

You look up at him, breath shaky, and he smiles again—gently, reassuring.

“Your body’s reactin’ the same way to me. That’s a good thing, baby.”

His hand drifts lower, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, fingers tracing over your bare stomach. Then lower past the waistband of your sweatpants.

“You’re not doin’ anything wrong. You’re just learnin’. I’ll teach you everything—nice and slow.”

He moves slowly. 

And when his fingers slip past the edge of your panties, you tense—not from fear, but from something deeper. Something pulling.

“Shhh,” he soothes. “That’s it. Just let me.”

His hand finds the warmth between your legs—already sticky, slick, and aching. And he groans under his breath.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You really needed this, didn’t you, Bambi?”

You whimper. Your hips twitch without your permission.

He strokes you slowly, just enough to build the pressure. Drawing circles with enough pressure.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers against your temple. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

Your hands clutch his shoulders, and your voice breaks on a breathy plea:

“Please—Joel—please…”

And god, he loves it.

His lips curl against your skin.“There she is,” he murmurs, picking up the pace just enough to make your thighs shake. “Beggin’ so sweet. Didn’t even have to teach you.”

You press your face against his neck, trying to stay quiet, but every touch burns. Every movement tightens something inside you that you didn’t know was waiting.

Joel keeps whispering.

“That’s it, Bambi. Doing so good for me” 

His fingers slide lower—slick, wet, so sensitive that your hips jolt. He strokes you slowly, gently, like he’s memorizing your every twitch.

“There you go, baby,” he whispers, “You just stay with me. Let me feel how good you are.”

You make a sound, quiet and shaky at first. But when his fingers circle just right, a soft moan escapes before you can stop it.

Joel groans at the sound. “Goddamn.”

You press your face against his neck, biting your lip, but the sounds keep slipping out—wet, breathless, desperate little whimpers that only make him touch you deeper, slower.

And outside—

Tommy freezes halfway up the porch steps.

He hears it.

Muffled, but clear.

Your voice.

High and soft and needy.

A moan. Then another. The kind of sound no one makes unless someone’s got their hand deep between their legs—and Tommy knows exactly what Joel is doing with you

He stands there, jaw tight, heart pounding. Heat spreading beneath his ribs… and lower.

Joel beat him to it.

He fucking knew it would happen. Knew Joel was soft on you the moment you stepped out in his clothes, all wide eyes and soft thank-yous. But he didn’t think Joel would take it this soon.

And now, standing on the other side of the door, Tommy hears you cry out softly again.

He presses a hand against the wall beside the door. Breath heavy. His cock throbs behind the zipper of his jeans.

Fucking Joel.

A growl curls in his chest, low and frustrated. He wants to be the one inside. He wants to see your face. He wants to hear you say his name like that.

And next time— He will.

⟡──────────────⟡

Guess next time it's Tommy's turn...

✧ reblogs, likes & comments are deeply appreciated ♡  

✧ do not repost, copy, or translate my work  

tag list: @heavens-whore @ilovetoomanymen @chick66i @grayandthyme @codenamekitten @millersdoll @med494 @pedrosgirl03 @starfruitlily @fan-fiction-floozy @darknight3904 @anitraivx @sweaters-and-socks @umadirectioner (just ask in the comments and you'll be added loves)

[sm-baby]

I want to see all the carnival AU bios again, but finding Zooble's is too hard, even when using the search. I hope there's a more organized way to view them.

(Trying to come up with nicknames that said characters would give my characters.)

CARNIVAL AU MASTERPOST + BOUNDARIES

Augh... I never know how to organize stuff! But here is a mini master post of the TADC Info Cards (edited):

The Main Cast (Minus Zooble :C)

Zooble ( Plus Zooble!!! :3)

Shiny Cards ✨

Lesser AI

THE GLOINKS!!!

Level layout

OFFICIAL COMIC:

The Entire Comic has also been dubbed by @volticglitch !! If you're not a reader, You can watch their dubs instead!! Here is the dub

Your best friend!

Jesterly duties

The hallway

Crying

First clue

Special event!

Foul language - a silly

Excuse me?

Leave!

A word with Bubble

Let it Settle

I'm sorry

CONCEPT ART:

Characters Relationship Chart ( Bonus, OC relationship Chart!)

The Tent

The Funhouse

Cutscene

Pomni expressions

Character design

Meet Pomni

ALT character skins (Bonus, Maid skins because of course I did)

Pomni expressions AGAIN!!! (and a bonus)

The Jester's Circus tent (and a bonus)

References

Shape language ramble

LOREEE:

Neck pieces

Neck pieces (prt 2)

Neck pieces (prt 3)

Silly Frilly

Toxic Positivity Duo

Quick Ragatha Doodle

The Rabbit

Non-sentient Pomni

Pity Laugh

First act of violence

First and only visit

DOODLE DUMPS:

First look

Meet Jax

Meet Ragatha

Meet Kinger

Meet Able

Zooble's room

Theatre shinanigans

Thanks for listening

Jax Doodles

Ragatha doodles (Feat. Kaufmo)

Caine doodles

Queenie?

Colored doodles

Eye popping

Jax Ko-fi request!

SILLIES!!:

The "Sillies!!" Section is moved HERE becuase the mastpost couldn't take any more links!

╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES/FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗

"Can I make OCs In Carnival?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay, just be sure to warn and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - Yes and please show me!! that would be lovely!! " Can I dub/voice your stuff?" - Yes but, I have only one rule... show me pleaaasseeee pls pls pls 🥺🙏 " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Aughh.. this is gonna suck to explain cuz its a lot to ask.. You're allowed to ship any ship! My only boundary is that it doesn't include either Pomni or Caine being with others who are not eachother! For example: Ragatha x Jax ✅ Pomni x Jax❌ Kinger x Queenie✅ Kinger x Caine❌ As long as the ship does not include Pomni or Caine individually, I'm all aboard!! I respect Jax x Pomni shippers, as well as Kinger x caine shippers, I just don't like them myself and don't want to accidentally stumble upon them in the tag! I do apologize if that's a lot, it just makes me uncomfy! Bounderies can be very tight! :')

[pastryland]

carcar completed fic recommendations

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

Will update this list periodically

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

🔗 = part of a series (will usually only put fav from series on here)

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

the better half of a good time - 4k - 🔥

“Most guys, they look at the date.” He manages to make it sound both admiring and chiding. Oscar is very quickly losing control of this conversation. “Do you make a habit of just giving your license out? To every stranger you meet?” “Only those I really like.”

The So-Called Narrative - 10k - 🔥

“It’s annoying. Whatever. They’re not going to stop.” “Not if you keep hating on me.” “I don’t hate you,” Oscar says, a little too hastily. “Hating on me.” Carlos’ lopsided smile is amused, too knowing for comfort. “They’re two different things.”

Stars Are Blind - 19k - 🔥

“Not so bad for a virgin. Right?” Alex says to Oscar as they shake hands after the match. His face immediately scrunches up. Their palms stay connected over the net as they stare at each other. They are both deer caught in the headlights. The cringiest longest handshake of Oscar's life. “What?” “What.” Alex answers, not like a question, just a statement.

It ain't a scene, it's a goddamn arms race - 38k - ❤️ 🔗 🔥

He waits on the line for way too long before Carlos’ voice finally seeps through his speakers, a deadpanned “What?” accompanied by a loud background noise almost covering it completely. “It’s Oscar.” He says, tapping his knee nervously. “I know, I can read my screen, Piastri. I was just hoping it wouldn’t actually be you.” Carlos snorts. Initially, Oscar had been slightly ashamed of having to hunt down their old group chat to find Carlos’ number, especially when he had noticed it was the only one not saved in his contacts. Now, though, he can't find it in himself to feel guilty at all. “I see that the venom in your coffee tasted amazing this morning.” “It always does.” Or: Carlos, Oscar and a project.

take it or leave it - 6k - ❤️ ⭐️ 🔥

r/relationships: My (22M) coworker (29M) keeps irritating me at work

Old Habits Die Hard - 15k - ❌ 🔥 + Carlandoscar, Landoscar, Carlando

The downside of Oscar's job is that he's always in danger. And the pros? None. Well, unless one counts having a massive crush on his employer, who has the sex drive of a rabbit and is practically always half-naked. But the fact that his employer is literally part of the mafia is definitely off-putting. Oh, and he's married.

rosetta stone - 7k - ⭐️ 🔥

Maybe it’s just Carlos’s competitive nature at play here, mistaking a desire to win for–desire.

masterpost for all completed fic rec lists

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ Sir Meteor ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. A Kirby OC Masterpost

Born from the last wishes of a dying planet, Sir Meteor is a genuine celestial being dinosaur!! He’s been around for millions of years and might be in a history book or two, but any past escapades don’t really matter! Currently he scours the stars looking for any more dinosaurs, and the rest of his family.

Find him on:

Toyhouse, Art Fight, and by using #Kirby OC: Sir Meteor. Toyhouse contains the most comprehensive library of artwork, followed by his tag, and his Art Fight has lovely art done by other people <3

Additional Resources:

Allosaurus Skull 3d Model by ramon.gonzalez.cabrera, viewable for free online, no download needed.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Artwork:

>> It's Tough to be a God- April Fools Animatic >> Dizzy! Animatied Character Turnaround >> The Dinosaur Hunts >> Brothers Together >> A Plan for You--ft. Crux

Follow the story of Sir Meteor : STORY COMICS >> On Wishes >> Birds and Dinosaurs >> Do you want to make a wish? ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES: >> Tournament AU >> Frostbitten Fossil AU >> Warrior Cats: Meteor Fall AU MIRROR WORLD >> Mirror World: Mosaic Meteor >> Mosaic Meteor and the Shadow Queen

Misc. Posts:

>> Sir Meteor Design Process >> Star Allies PFP >> Favorite Food >> Sir Meteor's Little Brother >> Dinosaurs and Birds: A Lesson in World Building and Biology >> New Encounter

╚═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╝

Other:

-⭕Fanart of him is welcome and encouraged! I would love to be tagged in it! -⭕ I love getting asks about him! Be warned i can be slow to respond. -❌ Meteor is uncomfortable with romance, I discourage shipping him unless platonic or with my approval! -❓ His skull mask belonged to his mother so he is uncomfortable with other -people handling or stealing it. It is not forbidden to show, but important to consider. - ‼️Meteor will dislike being told he is not a dinosaur. - ‼️Being inspired by my work is okay! If you heavily reference or base an OC/any work off of Sir Meteor please credit me.

[nobody-nexus]

❌ANALOG AU MASTERPOST!❌

-Analog AU is a Digital Circus AU where it takes place in the year of 2003 and a woman named Paloma Shutnik finds a bunch of notebooks and VHS tapes within a local thrift shop that was in her city, so she decided to buy them for her collection. However, little did she know that finding these would result in her learning more about the world then what she was prepared for-

CW: This AU will content blood, gore, death, torture, cosmic horror, body horror, scopophobia, and other similar elements. Be warned!

(Under the keep reading are the designs, and general information!)

Entities: The names of the creatures that are beyond normal human standards. From tendrils controlling old machinery, to wraith chess pieces, these creatures aren't the normal for life on Earth. Within Abel's notes, there's a total of four different types of Entities to encounter:

Of course, the entities are always taller then the average human. The normal height is about 2.1 to 2.4 meters (7 to 8 feet tall), and the tallest ever recorded was 9.7 meters (32 feet) from end to end

================================================

(The blank for the reference sheet)

The text font I use for this AU is the Chiller Font ^^

And, of course, some answers to potential questions:

(The Influencer originally belongs to @ask-the-rag-dolly)

I hope you enjoy this AU- cause oh god it took me SO LONG to remaster this. This is one of the AUs I wanna see people enjoy the most cause I have a special place in my heart for this kinda stuff. If you've made it to the end, I hope you have a fantastic day ^^

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

🍬 Five Weird Facts About Jelly Babies and the Doctor

Jelly babies are the Doctor's (nearly) lifelong obsession. Here are five fascinating facts you absolutely need to know about the Doctor’s intense (and sometimes disturbing) love for jelly babies.

1️⃣ The Doctor's obsession with jelly babies began in their 2nd incarnation. ❤️🍬

The Doctor appears to have discovered jelly babies during their 2nd incarnation, not the 4th, as some universal scholars might claim. While the 4th Doctor certainly made them his own, it was the 2nd Doctor who first started keeping a bag tucked away in his pocket.

2️⃣The 4th Doctor may have thought all Earth sweets were called jelly babies. 🤷‍♂️🍬

The 4th Doctor loved jelly babies so much that he offered them to just about anyone, however, on several occasions, the 4th Doctor offered 'jelly babies' when he was actually holding something completely different, like liquorice allsorts.

Now, was this a case of innocent alien confusion? It's entirely possible the 4th Doctor simply assumed for a while that all Earth sweets were called jelly babies, but we may never know for sure.

3️⃣Later incarnations don't seem to like jelly babies anymore. ❌🍬

The 1st Doctor never mentioned or carried jelly babies, but let's give the fella the benefit of the doubt—it's entirely possible he simply hadn't met one yet.

However, the 13th, 14th, and 15th Doctors haven't really been seen to be munching on them, thinking about them, or offering them to friends (so far). Is the Doctor losing their love for jelly babies as they get older?

4️⃣The Doctor possesses an adult-sized jelly baby costume. 🤯🍬

You'd think I'd have something to write here to explain it, but I don't. Why does he have it? How did he get it? Honestly, got nothing.

5️⃣Different incarnations prefer different coloured jelly babies. ❤️🍭🍬

Each of the Doctor's incarnations seem to have their own preferences regarding the colour of their favourite jelly baby. The Fourth Doctor loved the orange ones, while the Eighth Doctor favoured the red. Next up on Gallifreyan uQuiz ... What does your jelly baby colour say about your incarnation?

(Drawn from TARDIS Wiki)

Whoniverse Facts for Friday by GIL

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[putschki1969]

 Hi Sarah Hope you are doing well I want to ask you about Live releases and the audio format of ISO version if it is lossy or lossless? if it is lossless how can I get it thank you for all your efforts

Hello there!

Sorry for the late reply! I actually received two similar requests in my DMs the other day so I completely forgot to reply to this ask. It's interesting that there is suddenly such a high demand for ISOs. With three people asking me about the same thing within the span of just a few days it makes me wonder if there is something going on that I am not aware of...?? A project maybe?

Either way, I will give you the same answer that I gave them. You are probably not gonna like it so I apologise in advance🙇‍♀️.

Basically, I don't have any ISOs at the moment so there is no way to rip lossless FLACs from them. To be quite frank, ISO files are a hassle to deal with so I get rid of them very quickly and don't really do much with them except compress them for convenience. As you probably know, I use Google Drive to store all my Kalafina stuff. The sheer size of the ISO format simply doesn't lend itself to that sort of storage platform.

My intention is to create a somewhat complete archive of Kalafina content, preferably in good or even high quality. However, I am not a tech-nerd or an audiophile so it has never been my goal to always provide the absolute highest quality or an exact copy of the original physical release. In my eyes, the physical release should remain the "ultimate" version available and everyone who attaches great importance to such high quality needs to start purchasing those physical copies. I am a huge proponent of buying physical releases and I will never get tired of telling people to BUY them. Once you own that stuff, everything is within your power, you can do whatever you want with them aided by a bunch of good tools. It's an investment for sure, it takes a lot of money and even more time but I feel like you can't have super high standards without being willing to put in the necessary legwork.

Hopefully this doesn't come across as rude or condescending, I just think this is the way it is meant to be.

I admit, I have to blame myself for even mentioning ISOs in my "Kalafina All Live Releases Masterpost" and creating some confusion. It was a crazy idea I had back in the day when I first started archiving everything but there was never a point where I actually offered them. I used this opportunity to remove those parts from my masterpost….

Anyway, this was just a long-winded way of saying, sorry, no ISOs from me❌.

[teasemates]

TeaseMates AMA event (masterpost)

[RP-Stream START] 🎥 ✔ [RP-Stream END] 🎥❌

links to all asks that were part of the event:

[How did you two meet in the first place and do you remember how that went?] [what do you guys do for work outside of onlyfans? do you enjoy it?] [either of you got a girlfriend? or ever bring girls home? 👀] [Dream location for a photoshoot or filming?] [If each of you had to choose a fantasy, what would it be?] [What would you both do if you had a million dollars?] [What’s your body count??? 😏😏😏] [Most embarrassing moments? Not including starting up an OnlyFans together and any awkwardness there.] [Would either of you be willing to have an orgasm in front of the other?] [just for fun, can you both try and describe what you think the other looks for/is attracted to in a partner? and then you can both reveal how right (or wrong!) the other was!] [You’re both straight but have you ever jerked off with your friends?] [how do you each like to be comforted when you're upset?] [Ok so you're both straight... but have either of you ever experimented with another boy? Even just kissing?] [What's your favorite movies? And, follow-up question; if you could dress each other up as a character from that movie, what would it be?] [what are your families like? are you close with them? any siblings?] [would you guys ever consider collaborating with other onlyfans creators? guys, girls...?] [Would you guys ever get a pet?]

[what’s your ideal date?] [how many people have you each slept with?] [Weirdest kink you've tried in the past (individually)? And weirdest kink you would be willing to try with each other?] [top 3 biggest kinks for each of you? (definitely not an ulterior motive to this question, nope)] [Would you guys ever do the “Soggy Biscuit”] [what are your kinks?] [How do you boys feel about pet names? Any in particular you like to use? Like to be called?] [If you were picking out lingerie for each other what color would you choose and why?] [So far what was the easiest thing to do? What was your favorite?] [You’ve said neither of you are working your dream job so what is your dream job(s)?] [Have you guys ever done anything off camera? Or did you jump right into OF?] [How did you both meet Robin? Bonus: how exasperated is she with the both of you on the daily from 1-10? 😂] [Most intense orgasm you've ever had?]

[do you watch porn? and if so, what kind do you watch??] [your most embarrassing non-sexual moment?] [Do you both have individual lives being roommates? To be more specific, I mean, do you both bring girls home and have fun with them with the door shut?] [What's the weirdest fantasy you both wanna do to each other if able?]

[fallenbratfiction]

Bambi ~ Part two

series masterpost here pedro pascal masterlist

a/n: you've been waiting for this for a long time, thank you for your patience!!! and also all the love you've been giving this fic! i hope you enjoy this chapter, there's more darkness to come 👀😈

mentions: post-outbreak / apocalyptic setting, dubcon/coercion themes, blood mention, obsession/possessiveness, power imbalance, reader is above 18, naive reader (soft/innocent/inexperienced), fingering, joel watches, non-explicit violence & threats, gun use, manipulation & emotional control, possessiveness, praise kink, possible other kinks, punishments,, “daddy” kink, shared reader (Joel x Reader x Tommy), pet names (Bambi, sweet girl, good girl, our girl), domestic elements turned dark, mental confusion & emotional overwhelm, morally gray to fully unhinged dark Miller brothers

Reader discretion strongly advised. Dark themes throughout. Minors DNI ❌ This is a work of fiction and does not reflect healthy or ideal relationships!!! 

Do not copy, translate or claim any of my work as your own. 

⟡━━━ ✦ 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝗳𝗶𝗰 ahead ✦ ━━━⟡

Tommy acts like it’s not a big deal around you, but it upsets him. Joel pretends nothing is wrong, as if he didn't break the agreement they had about you. Not even a week had gone by since they found you. 

Tommy tried to get near you, talk to you, or spend time alone with you, but Joel had been sticking close to you, lending you his clothes, marking you, showing you things, giving pleasure that Tommy wanted to give you as well. He can’t undo what Joel did, he can’t go back and undo that moment, but he wished he could show you he could do the same and even more. He’s not demanding, but he’s aching to be chosen as well, wanted. 

Joel is always there, he’s cooking you food, carving you figures, murmuring things when he thinks Tommy isn’t around, or maybe does it on purpose. 

Tommy sees all of it and it hurts him more than he’d like to admit, of course, he’s too good to voice any of his trouble. He tries to tell himself he isn’t mad, this isn’t your fault, god you’re too naive, too sweet to know what his intentions are, what Joel’s intentions are. You just let yourself be guided, shown affection and fall into the bear trap that easy. He tries to reassure himself, you’re here now and it’s not like you’re going anywhere. There’s still time for you to get closer to him, to want him. But every second that passes, every day that goes by, he’s afraid you won’t want him at all, only Joel. 

One afternoon, he’s outside working by the shed. He’s chopping logs both for the fire and to get the steam off him, let all his anger out. His shirt sticking to his body, his forehead trinkles sweat and his hands are full of dirt and rough. 

It’s quiet in the shed, allowing him a peace of mind. 

He hears your footsteps, the leaves rustle and crunch under your boots, his. The only thing that belongs to him. They’re somewhat big on you but you don’t mind, they keep you warm at all times. But when he looks up, your shirt belongs to Joel, your shorts probably do as well. Everything is too big on you, he reminded himself to find you more suitable clothes the next time he was outside the perimeter. 

He looks up from the log and notices your eyes full of curiosity. the way you observe his hands, the logs, the shed and the things inside it.

You don’t say anything, just look around. 

When your eyes meet his, he notices you want to ask something. 

He shifts the axe in his grip, your notice quickly notice his action. 

“Want to help, Bambi?”

Your eyes flick to the wood, then back to him.

“I don’t know how.”

He shrugs. Smiles. “That’s alright. I’ll teach you.”

He says it softly, without pressure. But inside, his chest is tight.

You nod, walking toward him. He steps back, lets you closer. The sun catches on your hair, and his fingers ache to reach for you.

“Here,” he murmurs, picking up a smaller piece of wood, “just hold this steady while I—yeah, just like that.”

Your fingers brush as he adjusts your hands. You look up. He’s already looking down.

And for a second— It’s just the two of you.

No Joel. No jealousy. Just you this moment. 

You hold the log steady with both hands, kneeling in the grass like you’re focused, but Tommy can see your mouth parted just slightly, your brows knit with effort.

And you’re close now. Too close.

He swallows hard and kneels beside you, guiding your hands just a little, just enough to feel the shape of them. Calloused fingers wrapping around yours.

“You’re good at followin’ directions,” he says, voice low beside your ear.

You glance at him, lips parted like you’re not sure if that was praise or something else entirely.

He smiles—crooked, warm.

“Means I can teach you whatever I want,” he adds, quieter now.

Your breath catches.

He leans forward, hands on either side of the wood, arms boxing you in—but not touching. Just close enough. His warmth seeps into your skin.

His eyes flick to your mouth.

You don’t move.

“Can I…?” he asks softly, leaning just slightly forward.

You don’t say anything. You just look at him. And that’s enough.

He kisses you. Careful, restrained. Just his lips against yours—no pressure, no demand. Waiting.

You freeze at first, unsure. But his mouth is so soft, so warm, so different than Joel’s—and then your head tilts, and you mirror him.

Mouth parting. Breathing him in. Your hand rising to rest lightly against his chest.

His grip on your waist tightens just barely.

And the kiss deepens.

You feel it—the hunger under the surface. The need. The way he holds it back just for you.

When you finally pull away, your eyes are wide, lips swollen.

He’s already looking at you like you hung the goddamn stars.

You're both quiet after working in the shed. The sun’s lower now, golden through the trees. Tommy wipes his hands on a rag and looks over at you, who’s still looking around the space, the tools. 

“Thanks for helpin’,” he murmurs, voice rough and warm.

You nod. “It was nice.”

He offers his hand to take you and you give him a soft nod before taking it. He shuts the shed door and walks back into the cabin.

Joel is waiting sitting at the table, the rifle behind him leaning on the back of the chair. He had just gotten back from patrolling and found the cabin empty. 

He sees the shift in your face. The softness. The glow. And he knows he kissed you. 

The tension is clear, cutting through the cabin like a knife. Tommy turns to you, his hand in the small of your back, thumb rubbing against the fabric of your shirt.“Why don’t you go shower Bambi, yeah? You’ve been touching a lot of dirt and tools.”  

“Uhm, okay Tommy” you nod and offer him a small smile before disappearing down the hallway. Now it’s just the two of them in the living room. 

“You kissed her.”

Tommy sets his jaw. “Yeah.”

Joel steps forward. “We said we’d both take care of her. You’re takin’ her for yourself.”

“I am? You’ve been glued to her since the first night.”

Joel’s voice rises. “I found her, Tommy. You didn’t even trust her.”

Tommy snaps, “Because she was a stranger, Joel. We’re not livin’ in some sweet fuckin’ world where trust comes easy. I was protecting us.”

A beat.

Tommy breathes through his nose. Softer now.

“Not anymore, though. We know her now. What she’s like. And we both said it—we liked her. Wanted her around.”

Joel looks away for a second. Then back at him.

“So what? We split time? Take turns?”

Tommy glares. “You really think she’s a toy?”

You step into the main room wrapped in a big towel, hair damp and skin flushed from the steam. You pause at the sound of voices—raised, then quickly hushed.

Joel’s standing near the kitchen. Tommy’s by the couch. Both their faces are too stiff, too calm.

You blink. “What’s goin’ on?”

Joel’s jaw tightens, but he forces a smile. “Nothin’, Bambi. Don’t worry ’bout it.”

Tommy adds, more lightly, “Just patrol stuff, sweetheart. Nothin’ for you to worry about.”

You hesitate. The air feels strange—thick and heavy.

“Is everything okay?”

Joel nods. “Yeah, baby. Just tired.”

Tommy’s already sitting, stretching one arm across the back of the couch. Then he pats his thigh with a small smile.

“Come sit with me?”

You pause. Then walk toward him slowly.

He helps you settle into his lap, guiding your bare thighs over his jeans. You shift awkwardly, towel slipping a little, and he hums, adjusting you just right, wrapping an arm around your waist, firm but gentle.

“There,” he says, voice low. “S’nicer like this, huh?”

Tommy’s hand rubs slow circles on your thigh as you settle deeper into his lap. You’re still warm and soft from the shower, towel bunched high on your legs, hair dripping down your back.

He leans in, lips brushing your temple.

“Had a good shower?” he asks, low and sweet.

You nod, relaxing into his chest.

“Yeah. Water felt nice.”

Tommy hums, pleased. “Good. Gotta keep you taken care of, Bambi.”

Joel doesn’t say a word.

He’s sitting stiffly on the armchair across from you, elbow on his knee, hand flexing once, then again. His gaze is locked on where Tommy’s hand rests against your bare thigh, thumb stroking the inside absentmindedly.

He doesn’t blink.

You glance up, innocent and soft-spoken:

“Joel… you okay?”

His jaw clenches before he answers.

“Fine.”

But it’s anything but fine.

Tommy knows it. That’s why he grins a little into your hair, hiding it from Joel but not really.

“You sure?” you ask again, tilting your head like a confused baby deer. “You look kinda… tense.”

Joel finally breaks his stare, looks you right in the eye.

“Just thinkin’,” he mutters. “That’s all.”

But you’re not sure why it suddenly feels like the air’s gotten thick again.

Tommy just plants a slow kiss behind your ear like nothing’s wrong at all.

You lift your head slightly and glance across the room.

Joel’s stare is razor sharp.

Your brows furrow gently. “Joel…?”

“I said I’m fine,” he snaps—too fast.

You flinch.

Tommy goes still beneath you.

The silence that follows is deafening.

Tommy lifts his head slowly, eyes locked on his brother.

“You got somethin’ to say?” His voice is still calm. But there’s steel beneath it now. “’Cause you keep lookin’ like you do.”

You try to get up, slow and cautious, like maybe if you move, the tension will go with you.

But before you can shift fully off his lap, Tommy’s arm tightens around your waist. His palm flattens against your stomach, pulling you gently back down.

You pause.

“S’okay, Bambi,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear. “Just stay.”

You try again, a small tug on his forearm, but it doesn’t move.

“Tommy—” you whisper.

“Ain’t mad,” he says softly. “Ain’t gonna yell like him. Just don’t want you runnin’ off when you’re already where you’re s’posed to be.”

Joel’s eyes flick to Tommy’s hand, then to your face.

Your breath is shallow now.

You stay seated. Not because you’re scared, but because something in his tone tells you there’s no danger here.

Just heat. Just claiming. Just… him.

Tommy’s voice hums near your neck.

“Let him be jealous a little. I’ve been patient.”

Your eyes flick to Joel—and fuck, the way he’s staring at you now, tight-jawed and hungry, makes your pulse jump.

“She ain’t a prize,” Joel mutters, but even he sounds unsure now.

Tommy just smirks.

“Nah,” he says. “She’s better. She’s ours.”

Then his thumb drags slowly over your inner thigh.

Joel swallows hard.

You do too.

Tommy’s thumb is tracing little circles into your thigh, warm and slow and possessive. His grip never loosens around your waist. You’re tucked into his lap, towel barely holding on, chest rising just a little faster now.

Joel hasn’t moved—but you feel him across the room.

His eyes are on you.

The silence tightens, thick with heat.

You shift and roll your hips in Tommy’s lap, something you can’t control, it just feels good, your body is calling for you to do that again. Tommy goes still beneath you, his breath stops, his hand freezes before it reaches your cunt. 

Your eyes meet Joel’s, soft and sweet and wide as always. 

Joel fucking moves.

He stands without a word, crosses the room, eyes never leaving yours. He sinks onto the couch beside Tommy—close enough to touch you, close enough to smell the heat still rising off your skin—but he waits. He watches. 

You shiver when Tommy’s thumb brushes your clit, rubbing circles cause you to move on his lap uneasy, the stimulation being too much for you to tolerate. 

Tommy dips his head, mouth brushing behind your ear, his voice low and warm. 

“Too much baby?” he asks softly, and you nod whining. He slows down the movements, and you seem to ease into his lap “‘s okay, baby, 'm gonna go slow and gentle with you.” 

Your towel threatens to come off once again, Joel’s fingers move the fabric that covers your lower body, trying to see what your pussy looks like, despite having seen it himself before. 

Joel shifts slightly, breath hitching at the view.

Tommy doesn’t say anything—he just starts to untie it completely, slow and careful, like unwrapping something precious. He watches your face, waits for the smallest sign to stop.

It doesn’t come.

The towel loosens.

Joel’s breath drags in. Audible.

Tommy eases the fabric open, just enough to let it fall, exposing your chest to the cool air, your thighs to his hands, your whole body to both of their stares.

You don’t move. You don’t even open your eyes.

And that stillness?

It wrecks them.

When Tommy inserts his fingers inside you, you gasp 

Your nails dig into Tommy’s arm as his thrusts get rougher, deeper. You’re whining on his lap, mumbling his name. 

“Doing so good for me Bambi, ‘s okay” 

“You’re such a good girl for us baby, Tommy’s just having a taste of you” Joel adds quietly, his gaze focused on you. 

You turn your head to look at Joel, breathing heavily as Tommy’s fingers work inside you and when you feel the warmth build inside you as you near your orgasm, you throw your head back against Tommy’s shoulder and shut your eyes, trying to relax just like you had done with Joel. 

Your whimpers and moans and the squeaky wet sound of Tommy’s fingers are the only sounds heard in the cabin. Joel watches intensely, not moving at all, letting you two have your moment. He swallows, shoving off any kind of jealousy or fear. If keeping you means learning to share you, he will do it, he will find a way to learn how to do so. 

You come undone in Tommy’s grip, wet skin exposed, the towel is on the floor by now. You stay like that and neither of them move you. Tommy brings his fingers to his mouth and you don’t see it but hear his groan at the taste. “God you taste so sweet, Bambi” 

You sigh. The softest, most broken little sound.

And Joel’s control snaps.

He reaches out finally. Slowly, hand hovering at first, trembling.

Then he touches you.

Just a palm against your bare hip. Warm, calloused. Gentle.

You don’t flinch. You don’t open your eyes. You just let him.

Joel’s fingers stroke up your side, slow and uncertain—until his thumb brushes the curve of your breast, and your lips part in a soft, shaky inhale.

“Bambi,” he breathes. “Tell me to stop if you want me to. Just say it.”

Still, you say nothing.

You just lean slightly into the warmth of his hand.

And Joel—fucking wrecked—lets out the softest groan.

Tommy chuckles low behind you, voice dark and knowing.

“Told you she wanted both of us.”

Joel’s hands cradle your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, then circling—slow and focused. When his fingers pinch the sensitive skin, you hiss, breath hitching, a whimper slipping free.

Tommy watches now.

Quiet. Patient. Letting Joel explore, letting him have that moment while your body arches under his hands.

They lay you down in Tommy’s bed for the night. You’re spent—worn out from the day, from the heat, from the way his fingers worked you open until you were too dazed to speak. He tucks the covers around your naked body and presses a kiss to your temple.

“We’ll be right outside if you need us.”

You hum, already halfway gone.

Sleep takes you before the door even shuts.

Outside, Joel and Tommy stand on the porch. Silent. The cool night air prickling their skin, still humming from what just happened.

Their bond was close. But never this close. Not “fuck a girl in front of you” close. Not “share her body and her trust” close.

This was new. A bond neither of them could name.

It wasn’t incest. They weren’t touching each other. But you were in the middle—soft, sweet, theirs—and they both knew you wanted both of them just as much.

Maybe more.

How long could they keep this going? Could something like this even last?

Only one way to find out.

They come back inside without a word. Each brother disappears into his own room.

Joel lies down alone. The bed feels colder now, quieter like it knows you’re not there. He stares at the ceiling, jaw clenched, fist curled tight at his side. A part of him aches to sneak across the hall, open Tommy’s door, and take you back. But that would break the arrangement once again. And they hadn’t even set the rules yet.

Still, he imagines your sounds—your face, your body—and jerks off in silence. He falls asleep with your name on his tongue.

In the other room, Tommy pulls off his boots in the dark. You’re already curled beneath the covers, soft breaths steady in sleep. He slips in behind you, as gently as he can. His arm slides around your waist, tugging you close. You stir, barely. Your body presses back into his like it’s instinct, and his lips curl into a satisfied smile. He buries his face in your hair and exhales.

This whole thing?

It would need rules. You’d need rules. They both would.

Because sharing something so good, so warm, so sweet, would never come easily.

⟡━━━ ✦ chapter ends here ✦ ━━━⟡

✧ reblogs, likes & comments are deeply appreciated ♡  

✧ do not repost, copy, or translate my work  

tag list: @heavens-whore @ilovetoomanymen @chick66i @grayandthyme @codenamekitten @millersdoll @med494 @pedrosgirl03 @starfruitlily @fan-fiction-floozy @darknight3904 @anitraivx @sweaters-and-socks @umadirectioner @wow-life-love4 @moonstone2323 @valyrianflower @keseqna @xodilfluvr @soymiguelsesposa @inbred-eater @aphroditesblunt @namelesslosers @avengeritism @007maiz @twilightblogss @joelsprettyprincess @saltyllamakidwombat @jinririz @neobangverse @paladin--strait @livviii @doblasftcisco @alecriminn @staley83 @neobangverse @gay4magnetobutfanfiction @samsamsantos @a-woman-unkind @m-3-ssy-1-nk @hellokittyyloverrrr

(just ask in the comments and you'll be added loves)

[pastryland]

britcedes completed fic recommendations

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

Will update this list periodically

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

🔗 = part of a series (will usually only put fav from series on here)

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

But Is It Art? - 10k - ❤️

It wasn’t one specific thing about the photograph that had grabbed Lewis, there was so much to be inspired by. The model was obviously beautiful and wore the lingerie perfectly, but it was the composition too, the faint impression of water that was in the background like the sea or a swimming pool, and couldn’t be completely identified. And there was the white floor and the white pillar, like the model was in a place that wasn’t really real. The model’s closed eyes and the angle of his chin, Lewis’s gaze traced the lines of his jaw for a while. (Model George inspires artist Lewis, professionally and personally, and in every way possible)

On the Wings of an Eagle - 13k

It wasn’t until much later, when he happened upon a photo of someone on Twitter, that he found out who his soulmate was. The photo was of a new tattoo said person had gotten, a beautiful roaring lion, but on the person’s other shoulder, George spotted his mark, the softly outlined eagle, and gasped. Looking up at the user’s name, his stomach dropped when he spied the @LewisHamilton on top of the caption. -or- George gets his soulmark and finds out that Lewis has the matching one.

Secrets To Keep - 4k - ❤️

The flowers in Lewis’s motorhome are completely unexpected. So are all the other gifts he receives from a secret admirer. It’s not a total secret though, Angela and Bono both know who the admirer is and they both approve. They both enjoy knowing what Lewis doesn’t, and Lewis enjoys their happiness. The admirer is giving him what his season can't and he honestly loves that.

living for the thrill - 11k - 🔥

He finds him after the show, bathed in neon red and blue and green with sweat clinging to the tips of his hair. It looks soft now, after he lost himself to the music and allowed the product to be washed away by sweat and the easy way the beat moved his body.

with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul - 23k - 🔥

George can't remember a time when it wasn't Lewis Hamilton for him.

love the way that you conquer your fear (you know hearts don't break around here) - 20k - 🔥

They meet in London, eat dinner in Paris, attend a fashion show in Milan, make up in Monaco and make love in Lewis' Colorado house. Not necessarily in that order.

pictures stay the same but we fade to black (photographs don't change) - 6k

[There's a photo of balcony doors thrown open. You can see the edge of a table to one side, Lewis is sitting profile with Roscoe lying to his feet. The sun is framing his shoulders and a couple of braids have fallen into his face. He's saying something around a bite of a flaky croissant.] _ George is a twenty-something photographer who's a little lost in life and follows Lewis to New York.

masterpost for all completed fic rec lists

[dissvicious]

PINNED POST

❌ DON'T TAG ME IN CHAINS OR TAG GAMES ❌

Pretty please it makes me extremely uncomfortable!

COMMISSIONS INFOS

Oi ! I'm Sid & I'm a french professionnal comic book author. I go by all pronouns & I'm 27. After a severe burnout I decided to indulge in selfship & self indulgent work under another pen name than my professional one & here we are! This is my OC x Canon sideblog 💣

I absolutely love receiving requests & headcanons, sometimes I forget to answer but that's all on me !

Please keep in mind that this blog is mostly therapeutic for me and that I'm a severly disabled person with a lot of social anxiety, never take it personally if I don't answer your requests / comments / etc ♥

(Fake screenshot by my friend @itscoffeetime-world who deserve the world ♥)

Main ship: Chainsaw Metal Killer (KidKiller x OC Nina + fankids Ozzy & Ziggy)

ChainsawMetalKiller masterpost

ChainsawMetalKiller blog navigation

Other oc x canon ships:

Redbomb (Buggy x Red + triplets fankids)

Lawsha (Trafalgar Law x Osha the bear)

Note that even if I love to write and play with jealousy & possessiveness I'm more than ok with doubles and I love OC interactions so feel free to come & chat 🥰

Blog navigation :

#ask sid glorious: answers to ask & requests

#sid glorious thoughts & #sid glorious talk for random babbles

#smutty sid for spicy content

#sid glorious shitpost is pretty self explanatory

[waterloo-to-anywhere]

Waterloo To Anywhere - 'Is this song about Peter?' Masterpost

✅ Deadwood

✅ Doctors & Dealers

✅ Bang Bang You're Dead

✅ Blood Thirsty Bastards

❌ The Gentry Cove

✅ Gin & Milk

✅ The Enemy

✅ If You Love A Woman

❌ You Fucking Love It

❌ Wondering

❌ Last Of The Small Town Playboys

✅ B.U.R.M.A.

Notes:

verdicts are entirely arbitrary (actually i was being generous lmao)

yes im aware that all dpt songs are technically cowrites so these lines could also be written by stan/didz/gary. however it does feel like carl very much had the creative control over this album

don't take this too seriously, im fully aware that i sound like this most of the time:

(pls carl)

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Is regeneration a natural occourance or chosen? (mostly because the master at the end of s3 chose not to regenerate intentionally, whereas other regenerations of other timelords in the show can seem really unwilling like they’d rather not have it happen??)

Is regeneration a natural process or chosen?

Weirdly enough, both.

⚡The Stages of Regeneration

1️⃣ The Trigger: Regeneration typically kicks in when a Gallifreyan is seriously injured or has reached the end of their natural lifespan in a specific body. Once the body hits a critical point, the lindos hormone is released, and the regenerative process is automatically activated.

2️⃣ The Reset: This stage is known as the Reset. It's when the body starts to stabilise, shedding damaged cells, healing wounds, and reversing the effects of ageing, like hitting the refresh button. During this phase, the Gallifreyan will feel weak and may experience hallucinations or disorientation. Once the Reset is done, the body's ready to enter the third stage of regeneration, the Rebuild, or ...

🚫The State of Grace (Optional): Gallifreyans can have the option to delay the third stage of regeneration. During this time, the body steadily grows weaker; if the Gallifreyan doesn't regenerate while in the state of grace or find somewhere to put that potential energy (think Tentoo), they risk permanent death.

3️⃣ The Rebuild: Once the Reset is finished, the body enters the Rebuild phase, where it undergoes a complete transformation and is restructured at the molecular level. This regeneration typically comes with some sort of visual manifestation, like a big boom of light.

❌Choosing Not to Regenerate

Some Time Lords, particularly those from Newblood families, have more control over their regenerations. They can often choose their physical form—gender, appearance, age—giving them a lot of freedom. For the Master, it's very likely that his level of control over regeneration enabled him to stop the process while still in the trigger phase, actively committing suicide.

On the other hand, Oldblood Time Lords, like the Doctor, often have less control. Once regeneration is triggered, their bodies tend to be at the mercy of the process. They can delay it for a short while in the state of grace stage, but after that, most generally don't have much choice. They can try to persist through the state of grace to completely deny the Rebuild kicking in and therefore die, but it's like trying to hold in a sneeze.

🏫So ...

In short, regeneration is a natural process, but the level of control varies. Newblood Time Lords have a bit more say in the matter, while Oldbloods tend to have to just go with it. The process can be delayed for a time, but ultimately, regeneration is something a Gallifreyan cannot avoid forever.

Related:

💬|✨4️⃣What are the four factors of regeneration?: How a regenerating Gallifreyan body might determine its next appearance.

🤔|🏡🩸What's the difference between an Oldblood and a Newblood Gallifreyan?

💬|✨🦸Why does a Gallifreyan get ‘superpowers’ straight after regeneration?: Why Gallifreyans ‘explode’ on regeneration and are overly energetic.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[somethingsomethingcranberries]

Temporary Masterpost :)

I am Muslim and won’t tolerate any hate, this blog supports Palestine 🇵🇸 🇵🇸 🇵🇸

Hellooooo everyone <3333

I made this blog a while ago with the intentions of posting fics I write and reading other people’s fan fiction, yet in the two years I’ve had this blog I’ve only done the latter lol. Anyways, I really want to get back into writing after such a long slump, and I feel like posting would be great for my motivation <3 I would absolutely love you if you requested I write anything from the fandoms below <333

✵ Harry Potter (marauders and golden trio era!!)

𖤐 Hunger Games

꥟ Grishaverse

⁂ Lord of The Rings & The Hobbit

꥟ Bridgerton (though I mostly lean towards the books than the tv series ! -except s2 Bridgerton that season owns my heart) [let me make it clear tho; Daphne and Eloise’s books ❌]

I feel I write better in fantasy genre, and frankly I don’t know how to be funny lmao, but I would like to write for my favorite sitcoms or tv shows set in reality in the future inshAllah (maybe?) like how I met your mother, criminal minds, house md and more!

Another thing I would like to mention, I have, in all my wisdom, changed my username into something I promised to myself would be temporary (the one I’m using right now). But I proceeded to add this username to bunch of taglists and I so so so regret that rn. I don’t know if I’ll end up changing it or not so suggestions would be so nice if you don’t mind 😭

Fic Recs :0

please note that I only write female reader inserts x male character :))

currently reading post

[tinie-alien]

Agere X-Men/Marvel Stuff Masterpost

⭐⭐⭐ Request Info (Currently Open!) ⭐⭐⭐

⭐⭐⭐ Doctor Who & Other Boards Made by Me :) ⭐⭐⭐

❌ Various X-Men Agere/CG Icons (part 1) - Logan, Erik, Charles, Wade, Peter, Warren, Kurt, Bobby, Scott

❌ Various X-Men Agere/CG Icons (part 2) - Morph, Jubilee, Rogue, Logan, Wade, Kurt, Remy, Peter, Warren

❌ Various X-Men/Marvel Agere/Petre/CG Icons (part 3) - Ororo, Rogue, Jean, Bucky, Logan, Charles, Wade

❌ X-Men Agere Icons (part 1) - Magneto, Charles, Wolverine, Cyclops, Nightcrawler, Peter Maximoff, Rogue, Gambit

❌ X-Men Agere Icons (part 2) - Storm, Beast, Morph, Jean, Angel, Jubilee

❌ X-Men Agere Icons (part 3) - Deadpool, Peter Maximoff, Cyclops(×2), Angel, Magneto, Wolverine(×2), Gambit

❌ Rainbow X-Men Agere Boards (part 1) - Cyclops, Jean, Charles, Rogue, Beast, Magneto

⭐

♟️🧲 Self-Indulgent CG! Charles & CG! Erik comfort Agere Board

♟️🧲 CG! Charles & Regressor! Erik Agere Board

🍺 Blue wolf-themed Protective CG!Logan/Wolverine Agere/Petre Board (req)

🧲♟️Knight CG! Erik & Prince regressor! Charles Agere Icons

♟️🧲 Prince regressor!Charles & Knight CG!Erik Agere Boards

⚔️🍺 420 regressor/flip/CG Flag Icons for Deadpool & Wolverine

⚔️🍺 420 Headcanons for regressor! Deadpool & CG! Wolverine

🍺 Regressor! Wolverine Agere Collage Board + Headcanons

⚔️🍺 Valentine's Day-themed Deadpool/Wolverine Agere Board

🫂🃏 Valentine's Day-themed Rogue/Gambit Agere Board

🌵 Boyre-themed Evan/Spyke Agere Board

🪽 Bedtime regressor! Warren/Angel Board

⚔️ Food-themed Wade/Deadpool Agere Board

🍺 Rottweiler puppy regressor! Logan/Wolverine Petre Board

♟️🧲 Charles/Erik Agere/CGs Board

🦯 Daredevil/Matt Agere Board (request)

🫂 2000s Kid-themed Rogue Agere Board (request)

🍺 Rest Day-themed CG! Logan/Wolverine CG Board (request)

🪽 Warren Worthington III/Angel Agere Board

🫂 Rogue Agere Board

🧲 Erik/Magneto Stuffie Edits/Icons

🎪 Blue-themed regressor! Kurt/Nightcrawler Agere Board

⚔️ Pottymouth regressor! Wade/Deadpool Icons

🕶️🐦‍🔥 Regressor! Scott/Cyclops & CG! Jean Grey Board

⚔️🍺 Cozy Christmas Wade/Deadpool & Logan/Wolverine Agere Board

💨🧲 Sleepy regressor! Peter/Quicksilver & CG! Erik/Magneto Board (request)

💨🎪 Sleepy regressor! Peter/Quicksilver & CG! Kurt/Nightcrawler Board

💨 Peter/Quicksilver Agere/CG Board

🎪 Kurt/Nightcrawler Agere/CG Board

♟️Cozy-themed CG! Charles/Professor X CG Board (request)

↪️♟️ Finished Cozy CG! Charles/Professor X CG Board

🍺 Outdoorsy-themed CG! Logan Howlett/Wolverine CG Board (request)

🧲 Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto Agere/CG Board

⚔️🍺 Coloring-themed regressor! Wade/Deadpool & Cooking-themed CG! Logan/Wolverine Board

⚔️🍺 Age regressor! Wade/Deadpool & Puppy/pet regressor! Logan/Wolverine Board

🛡️🦾 CGs! Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier & Steve Rogers/Captain America Board

🌜 Steven Grant/Moon Knight Board

🌜 Moon Knight Agere Board

🌜 Self-Insulgent CG! Moon Knight Agere Board