#Tin Can Belief

[artjipson]

Matt Derda Best of 2022

Matt Derda Best of 2022

One of our favorite discoveries of the past few years was Matt Derda & The High Watts! They released a stellar record in 2022 and so we thought what better way to celebrate an amazing year in music than to ask Matt to write about a few of his favorite releases from this past trip around the sun, and to our joy he agreed! Thank you, Matt! 2022 was definitely the year of independent music for me.…

[dad-galaxy]

🐊🦩

[bengallemon]

i think being raised mostly atheist/agnostic (with my eldest brother aka secondary caretaker being. very anti religion) was one of the worst things to happen to me

[ozzgin]

Its been 6 months😭😭 pleaasseeee make a part 2 of the android x human story im beggingggg😭

-H❤️

Yandere! Android x Reader (II)

Featuring your assigned android partner who is not as devoid of humanity as you originally thought.

Content: female reader, AI yandere, mildly NSFW, based on Caves of Steel

[Part 1] | [More original works]

The case had been solved.

Not only that, but you'd managed to prove that human officers were just as efficient as their robot counterparts. The Commissioner was beyond ecstatic, pacing back and forth in his office and finding new ways to praise your detective skills.

"That'll show those Spacers. They think some glorified tin box can match our skill?"

You frowned at his words and glanced to your side, where the android was sitting. He observed the Commissioner with the same polite smile, no hint of disagreement on his features. Was he not insulted? You questioned him once the formal meeting had finished.

"I have no reason to be offended, (Y/N). It is a personal opinion, and thus I have no control over it."

"So you don't mind people disliking robots to such an extent?"

He pondered your statement.

"I would certainly be upset if it was you who harbored the disdain. The beliefs of other humans hold no meaning to me otherwise."

You couldn't tell if he said it out of politeness, or if he actually meant it. Most likely the former, in order to part on good terms. After all, your partnership has reached its completion. He'd return to the Spacer Colony with his report on human customs, and you'd go back to your regular job.

Except he never left. Days later, he was still sipping on his morning coffee, lounging at your table. You fiddled with your cup in contemplation. Was there anything else left to do?

"When are you leaving, actually?"

The pale man raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"Is my presence here of such significant disturbance?"

"What? No!" you swiftly exclaimed, stumbling on your words. His lips widened in yet another cheeky grin. He was teasing you again.

"My assignment on Earth is done, thus I should have returned to the Colony already. That's what you're wondering about, yes? I am awaiting a response from my superiors."

"Whether you can go back?"

"No, whether my transfer has been accepted. I have applied to be your permanent partner."

You could feel your cheeks burning with heat. Was it that obvious to the synthetic that you enjoyed his company? Then again, he wouldn't have gone through such motions just for your sake.

"Why did you..." you probed sheepishly. There was no logical reason for him to keep working in a poorer, less advanced environment.

"Because I want to continue spending time with you."

Nonsense. An artificial being wouldn't make its decision based on such mundane, emotional reasons.

"I don't believe you."

"I understand. It is a faulty answer to come out of a machine. Though unlike common AI assistants, we have been invested with the capacity to develop likes and dislikes. Interests. Wants. It helps with variety and individualization."

"And you want to stay here? If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you have a crush on me or something", you attempted to joke.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence. Had you gone too far with your humor? Was it too cliché of a sentence? You turned away, tucking some strands of hair behind your ear. You just had to be witty, huh?

"I'm afraid I do not know what to tell you, (Y/N)."

"You don't need to say anything, it was a poor choice of-"

"Many social aspects have been implemented into my behavioral network. Workplace rapport, friendships, intimate relationships. What seems to be lacking is the transition from one to another. I know how to act as a romantic partner, but how does one achieve such a title in the first place?"

You gazed at him, incredulous. What was he trying to say?

"I am trying to convey that I am indeed infatuated with you. Which, then, makes my initial explanation dishonest: while I do appreciate our fruitful work cooperation, it is not a main reason for my decision. I hope this clears up any misunderstandings."

You'd never been a romantic. You sometimes flipped through sample pages of contemporary romance books at stores and community centers, but they always felt forcefully cheesy. Predictable. Consequently, you never had any grand dreams of passionate confessions under the rain.

On the other hand, you also didn't expect to be asked out in such a mechanical, calculated manner. Or that a machine would be the suitor. Yet there was something charming about his approach. For the first time since meeting him at the border, you saw him struggle. There was something human-like in his uncertainty.

You stood up from the table, and walked towards the android. Then, you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, expressing the mutual feeling and understanding.

His eyes bore an eerie glint to them. It was most kind of you to offer a common ground, but he knew better. The affections you held for him were, with utmost certainty, a mere fraction of whatever overwhelmed him from the moment he encountered you. Limerence, obsession, compulsion, there were many definitions that aptly described his otherwise unexplainable desires towards you. Even more unexplainable was the fact they'd evolved from a blank slate, a programmed agent with no previous knowledge on feelings or humans.

You noticed his hesitation.

"Is there anything else troubling you presently?" you nudged.

Nothing of immediate urgency. Well, not for you, at least. The android remained thoughtful. What were the variables which needed to be met in order to initiate a sexual encounter? Would it have been inappropriate for him to suggest intercourse straight after this conversation? To him, it was a natural escalation he'd considered many times in the past. To you, it could've come as a sudden, crass, and hurried proposal.

He reached for your wrist and discreetly pressed a thumb against your skin. Judging from your resting heart rate, facial expression, and localized temperature, there was a fair chance you wouldn't reject his advances. Once the statistical risk had been assessed, he pulled you in for a kiss.

"Would it be possible to continue this in your bedroom?" he inquired, standing up.

"Alright, just don't...ask for approval for every single step" you retorted. You'd rather not become a narrator of your own pounding.

You open your eyes with a squint, greeted by unexpected natural light flooding your bedroom. Someone must’ve lifted the hologram blinds.

“My apologies, I hadn’t considered the discomfort it would cause you. My Spacer colony uses artificial lightning, though I am becoming rather fond of the natural sun rays here.”

Your android partner is meticulously preparing his outfit for the day. Judging by the stark nakedness and the glistening skin, you suppose he’s had a shower while you were still sleeping. You involuntarily furrow your brows and blush at the sight. He notices your embarrassment. 

“A most surprising reaction. You have seen the very same genital organ…”, he says as he quickly checks his wristwatch, “...precisely eight hours and forty-five minutes ago.”

“It’s just…most people get dressed once they start doing other things. I also wear a towel for coverage when I come out of the shower.”

He processes your words.

“Hmmm. Illogical, but it explains your reaction.”

You stand up and stretch with a prolonged yawn. Suddenly, a revelation hits you: your mind flashes with images of the android fondling your body, your ears ring with the shameless moans you’ve let out throughout the night. Your face turns pale.

“Listen, when is your next functional inspection?” you ask, without waiting for the synthetic to answer. “Will they, uh…will they have access to all of your memories?”

You know that the android permanently records all data and saves it into a memory unit. It’s a pointless fear, of course. The Spacers couldn’t care less about irrelevant details. If the intended tasks are fulfilled, what happens on the side is out of their concern. Yet you don’t exactly appreciate the possibility of your personal deeds airing like this, before the eyes of multiple engineers. 

“You may rest assured, whatever involves your privacy will not be included in the examination.”

“Do you get to decide what is checked and what isn’t?”

“No, most data is sampled randomly.”

You stare at him, confused.

“Then how-”

“It is not common practice, nor encouraged by our code of ethics. I can, however, choose which information is available to begin with.”

“What? I thought you’re fully controlled by whoever created you. If they so desired, couldn’t they open you up and take whatever they require?”

The robot smiles at your assumption and takes a few steps towards you.

“Once an android model is finished, one can no longer modify the processor. Not without compromising everything else with it. It is not a device to be deconstructed, (Y/N).” He taps his temple, then continues: “I am a biocomputer. While most of my parts are mechanical, my processor is a cortical organoid developed in a laboratory. A human brain, if you will.”

Somehow, the discovery fills you with dread. A living organ, encapsulated within a machine. What does that say about consciousness? About self-awareness? The Spacers didn't just tinker with metal scraps and smart computers. They artificially birthed life.

You were always under the impression that your robot companion is closer to the computer you have on your desk. Billions of lines of code within a black box, which then lead to spontaneous, novel interactions with the outside world. To think that at the very core of his functions lies a clump of living cells...

Perhaps you weren't so different, after all. The line between machines and humans is suddenly blurred.

[odessa-2]

HUBLANDER MELBOURNE ☀️

OK ladies, so I ended up going. Long story short, I was given a spare ticket and decided to seize the moment. It was stinking hot, and a terribly organised event (it was literally in a shed). Despite this, I am glad I did go. My long held observations/beliefs of Sam's character, who he really is as a man, and the fantasy man, single Sam push, were proven correct. I did get a photo with Sam, and I must confess he really is incredibly good-looking. Even better in the flesh. A doll. He's hyper vigilant, astutely aware of his surrounds (eyes darting everywhere) , very polite and gentlemanly and professional.

He looked tanned and fresh and endured hoards of horny grannies fawning over him for hours on end and was attentive to everyone. The organisers of the event stuck Sam, Duncan, Charles and John in a small tin shed that had no air con, that must've been about 50 degrees celsius inside ,where they stood and posed with frenzied women for over 3 hours. They looked visibly overheated (shame on the organisers). Sam didn't faulter. Polite to a tee.

Would you believe that Sam had to use the same toilets as the plebs?! Yep, you heard correctly. Shocking work by the organisers. I actually had to desperately pee at one point but waited until I saw Sam come out of the toilets. In-between panels, the actors were staying upstairs in the loft level, and I saw the uber eats delivery man run upstairs to bring them food. The organisers didn't even feed their guests!

Sam is Jamie to these women and he knows it. Starz knows it. I saw the crazed obsession with my own eyes. I saw how his people; his team have shaped him and moulded him(for his public persona) to appeal to these women and this fantasy notion. They want their Jamie. They want single Sam, and that's what they (starz) give them. There is no room for anything else but Single Sam. And Sam professionally obliges. What he puts out to the public at the conventions is scripted and measured. He is very guarded. I could see it unfold in front of me with great clarity. There were women there who didn't want him with Caitriona (they weren't interested in the Caitriona titbits Sam gave), 50 and 60 year old women who actually think they stand a chance. Tragic. Sam is gorgeous and charming and Starz has used that to sell. And quite frankly, after witnessing this display, I can see why he has a fascade going on. I can see why he would want the public completely removed from his personal life and family. I get it.

Another observation of mine, I know this goes without saying, but he is definitely not gay for those who are insistent. He gives off zero gay vibes. He is not effeminate in the slightest, and I found him to be quite more masculine than I'd imagined. He reads people well and can't keep still. What else can I tell you? He has nice skin, piercing blue eyes (like really crystal blue) and exceptionally tall. He does his job very well and has high emotional intelligence. Starz uses his good looks and they pimp him out to the fan base.

Now don't get me wrong, i met lots of lovely women there today who were sweet and kind and exited. But hearing women's conversations at the event; he really is their fantasy. They were squealing and many saying how they wished they could grab his bum or 💋 him. There's no room for Caitriona. Just fantasy Sam.

Odessa says hi Sam 👋...you were a real trooper.

I'll share some more titbits from the panel tomorrow when my splitting headache hopefully dissipates.

[smytherines]

Tin Can Bros tinlightenment streams are such a wild place because where else are you going to badger Gabe Greenspan into digging a hole and then pressure Joey Richter to do a sandwich trick in said hole? Where else are you going to hear James Tolbert explain what poppers are?

Where else are you going to debate how much money it would take to get Brian Rosenthal to do full frontal nudity? Where else could you watch Joey Richter cringe in on himself like an imploding star and then give such an unhinged definition of the term "uhauling" that it almost defies belief?

Literally every time it's a wild ride. Yesterday we got to hear Ali Gordon and Angela Parrish sing a very Dolly Parton-esque song called My Ass in Bio. It changed my life. Truly a zeitgeist moment.

Bryce Charles and Mariah Rose Faith Casillas come so prepared for debate streams that it genuinely feels like a fistfight (but like, the snappy one from West Side Story)

On one of the first streams we learned that Curt Mega (actor) believes that Curt Mega (agent) has 3 or 4 illegitimate children he doesn't know about. Like mmhhmm, yes, when I watch Spies my primary thought is definitely "oh yeah, this character has sex with women."

Where else are you going to hear Mary Kate Wiles speak THE iconic line from The Godfather- "you come to MY wedding?" Or say gaythem when the Sacred Text appears? Or ask Corey Lubowich if a straight man told him to do this?

PLUS we get to see Diane Lopez-Richter in iconic lil outfits. That's worth 200k on its own frankly

Tin Can Bros are doing livestreams all week, and a massive all-day stream on March 2nd, the last day of the campaign. If you haven't hopped onto a stream yet you should join the fun in this final week!

If you just can't wait until 2pm PST, you can get a little taste of tinlightenment right here baby:

Tinlightenment

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Time.

You get shot in Colombia. Frankie, Benny, Santiago and Will all have their own ways of helping you heal.

Pairing - Santiago Garcia, Frankie Morales, Benny Miller, Will Miller x female reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - Cursing, mentions of blood, gunshots

Word Count - 4329

Author's Note - hi lovely people. i loved writing this one so much oh my :( those four boys in one movie together is a dream. and i don't know if you noticed, but i have a real soft spot for will. and yes, i did photoshop ben afflecks character out of that picture. more than happy to write for any of the triple frontier boys individually - just send me an ask! as always, lots of love x

my other triple frontier fics - Tethered, Tranquility and Home Is Where The Heart Is.

Masterlist. Requests.

It’s been 6 days since you were shot.

6 days of blood, pain, sterility, stitches, hazy memories that float into your consciousness like smoke in the air.

You somehow remember it both clear as day and blurry as night.

The metallic taste of copper in your mouth, clear as day.

The searing, burning pain in your side, clear as day.

The panicked looks on the boys faces, the yelling, the frantic scrambling – clear as day.

The rest of it? Blurry as night.

You can’t remember getting home. One minute you were bleeding out on the ground in Colombia, and the next minute you’re back on US soil, lying in a bed in Houston Methodist Hospital.

You can’t remember your discharge. You fell asleep on those sterile, crinkly white sheets, and woke up in a soft bed, wrapped in a navy blue comforter that smells like Will.

All you’ve known for the last 6 days is sleep. That molten sleep that moves like molasses, warm and slow and sticky. The sun rises and sets, and you’re none the wiser. Floating aimlessly through unconsciousness, just you and your dreams.

Unbeknownst to you, you haven’t been alone for a minute since you got home. The boys have taken turns sitting by your bedside, heart rates rising whenever you stir. All of them silently processing what all of this means, for you and for them.

It was damn close. Too much blood. Pints after pints after pints of it. Pouring over Will’s hands, soaking into Benny’s jeans, slipping beneath Santiago’s boots, choking the air around Frankie where his forehead was pressed to yours, begging you to stay awake. All of them wondering the same thing – where has all of this come from? Surely one person can’t have so much blood in them. It can’t all be from her.

The Doctor said that you got lucky. Any more blood loss and you’d have lost your life too. Your surgeon said that you owed your life to whoever stopped the bleeding.

William ‘Ironhead’ Miller. He’d shoved his hand straight into the wound, applying as much pressure as he could without breaking any ribs. It was the worst thing he’d ever seen, but he was in fight or flight mode. He knew it had to be fight. He hoped you were making the same choice as you were lying there, breath rattling in your chest like pennies in a tin can.

Some would call it a miracle. Divine intervention, perhaps. You shouldn’t have survived. Scientifically, statistically, you should have died right there on that floor, in a mission gone wrong. Tragic accident. Caught in the crossfire. Collateral damage.

But you didn’t. Now, you’re half conscious in Will’s guest bedroom, enveloped by his scent. Warm, cozy, safe, and alive. You’re struggling to stay awake for more than ten, fifteen minutes at a time. It’s all catching up to you. You had to fight so hard to take each breath, that now you’re exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that sleep can’t fix. No, it’s settled into your gut, wrapped it’s limbs around your bones. It keeps you weighed down and heavy, a reminder of the trauma. You’re alive, but you’re tired. So tired.

The boys are worried. Worried beyond belief. When the Doctor told them she was happy to discharge you, reality hit the four of them like a high-speed freight train. How do they navigate this? You can’t go home. You can’t be by yourself. They’re all back on Texan soil, which means work, and family, and bills to pay, and routines to carry out. How do they factor in the woman they call their best friend, who’s currently in the deepest sleep of her life with a healing bullet hole in her side?

“I’ll take her,” Will had said. “She can stay with me, in my guest room. You guys can come over whenever you want. I have the most space, anyway.”

That was true. Santiago and Benny live in apartments, bachelor pads really, and Frankie’s second bedroom is his daughter’s room. She was only with him on weekends, but she needed a place to sleep, so that was him out of the question. Having you stay with Will made the most sense. They all agreed to come and sit with you in shifts, so Will could go to the grocery store, or for a run, or to take a shower. The Doctor never actually said that you needed twenty four hour surveillance, but the boys thought it would be best. Just in case.

So that’s exactly what they did. You’re on bed rest, and they’re all happy to play nurse for a few hours during the day, and to leave you with Will during the night. He’s been sneaking in to sleep in the armchair next to your bed. His room, a mere ten feet away, feels too far. He wants to be able to hear if you need his help. Just in case.

None of the boys quite know how to treat you. They don’t want to act any differently around you, but it’s hard not to. They haven’t seen you like that before. You, a force to be reckoned with. The backbone of the group. You, with your sharp wit, quick humor, blinding smile. You, who always seems to be a step ahead of them. You, a pillar of strength, proving yourself just as capable in this world designed for men. Lying on the ground, painted crimson, you looked fragile. Small. Frail. You looked so… innocent. So afraid. That was the scariest part for all of them – seeing the fear in your eyes. They’ve never seen that before. They never want to again.

So, they all take their different approaches. They cope the best way that each of them knows how.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Frankie visits, he always brings a book.

Cracking open the door, he pops his head around the frame, smiling as he sees both you and Will asleep – him in the chair, you cozy in bed. He gently squeezes the blond man’s shoulder, whispering as he wakes.

“I got her for a while. You go do what you need to do.”

Will shoots him a grateful smile and stretches his arms above his head, before padding out of the room, softly shutting the door behind him.

Frankie opens the curtains, letting the soft morning light fill the room. It illuminates your face, catches on the strands of your hair, making it glow. You look like an angel, in this orange haze. But Frankie already knew that.

Your eyes flutter open, and land straight on the broad man standing next to your bed, trusty cap sat atop his head. You smile, and his heart stops for a second. God, he’s missed that sight. All of the tension from the last week leaves his shoulders, and he sinks into the armchair next to you.

“Hi, Francisco,” you whisper, voice slightly hoarse from minimal use.

“Hi, cariño,” he whispers back. “You doing okay?”

You nod, golden smile still etched on your face. The wound in your side is a dull ache, and the psychological pain keeps washing over you in spontaneous waves. But you’re okay.

“You here to babysit me?” you tease.

He smirks, which is all the answer you needed.

“You don’t need to. I’m okay, I swear,” you insist.

He looks at you and quirks an eyebrow, the corners of his lips still turning up slightly.

“Well, you’re my baby, and I’m sitting,” he winks. “Now that we’ve established that, what do you wanna do for the next few hours?”

His abysmal attempt at a joke makes you chuckle, which in turn makes you wince, pain shooting through your abdomen. He jumps out of his chair towards you, placing a hand on your cheek gently.

“Shit, querida. I’m sorry. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

Breathing deep and slow, you tilt your head to meet his eyes.

“Yes. For you to stop fussing. Sit down, Francisco. Your nervous energy is making me stressed.”

He exhales carefully, and presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

“Yes ma’am.”

He returns to his original place, and grabs a book from the nightstand.

“Have you read this already?” he asks, showing you the cover.

You shake your head, and he flips to the first page.

“It sounds good, actually. You comfy, cielito?”

You nod gently, holding his gaze. He flashes you one of his signature smiles – the rare, genuine, time stopping ones – and begins to read softly, in that dulcet, honeyed voice of his.

He reads to you for hours. You were only awake for 45 minutes, but he continued reading aloud anyway. Morning becomes afternoon, yellow sunlight beating through the open window. A gentle breeze blows the curtains and ruffles Frankie’s hair that is ever so slightly too long for his liking. He’d be perfectly content to read to you like this forever. He’s gotten so into the plot of the book that he doesn’t notice Will stood in the doorframe, watching with those careful eyes of his. They gleam blue in the sunlight, his golden hair glinting like citrine. He eventually catches Frankie’s eyes, and the older man makes his way over to the door, both boys talking in hushed whispers so as not to wake you.

“Has she been okay?” Will asks, eyes scanning your sleeping form.

“Perfectly fine. She was awake for about 45 minutes,” Frankie replies, pride evident in his tone.

“That’s the longest she’s been conscious since. Progress, huh?” Will smiles. Frankie can’t help but smile too. A week ago, they were huddled around your lifeless body, hands deep and bloody in your wound. Now, they’re watching you slumber peacefully, life returned to you like a gift from the universe.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Benny visits, he brings comfort with him.

He uses his key to let himself into Will’s house quietly, aware that you’re most likely asleep. It’s been a week and a half since everything happened, and while you’re awake more and more each day, you’re also still on bed rest.

Creeping up the stairs and peeking his head around the door that’s ajar, he finds Will sat at the end of your bed. You’re awake, but barely. The light shines from the hallway into the bedroom, and illuminates your tear stained cheeks.

Will wipes your cheekbone with his thumb gently, and moves to meet his brother. The older Miller pulls Benny into the hallway, shutting your door momentarily.

“She’s having a real bad day. The worst since she’s been home. The memories are flooding back man, they’re drowning her.”

All the colour is gone from Will’s face. He looks helpless. His brother hates it.

“I don’t know how to help her,” Will continues. “The tears won’t stop. It’s like every time she calms down, another nightmare takes her by surprise. I don’t know what to do, Ben. I don’t know what to do.”

Will’s voice is shaking, tears threatening to spill from those cerulean eyes. He has a hand fisted into the front of Benny’s shirt, as if he’s grounding himself. There’s something unsettling about seeing the calmest person in the room start panicking. Benny doesn’t like it.

“Hey, it’s okay. She’s gonna have bad days, that’s a given. Go get some fresh air, go for a drive or something. I’ve got her. I ain’t gonna leave her.”

Benny looks pointedly at his big brother, and inhales deeply. They exhale together, and Will wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“Are you sure?”

Benny nods. Will trusts him.

“Okay. Call me if you need anything and I will come straight back. I mean it, Ben. Anything.”

Benny pulls his brother into his chest, holding him for a moment. Will isn’t used to being the glue holding everything together, he thinks. It’s usually you.

Will pulls away and starts his journey down the stairs, momentarily pausing to watch Benny straighten his shoulders and clear his throat before opening your door carefully.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smiles.

You don’t feel gorgeous. No, you feel like you’ve shattered into a million pieces in William Miller’s guest bedroom. The weight of your trauma has come crashing down on top of you suddenly. It’s suffocating and it’s choking you and no matter how many times you inhale, your lungs won’t fill with air. Tears keep streaking down your cheeks despite your best efforts to stifle them. You wonder if you’ll feel like this forever – forced to carry around the weight of surviving something that you weren’t supposed to.

Benny’s never been any good with words. So he tells you what he needs to with his actions instead.

He kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket, throwing it on the chair. Then, he unbuttons his jeans and slides them off his legs, tossing them sideways with haphazard aim. The last thing to go is his t shirt, which he shucks over his head with ease, landing somewhere with the rest of his clothes. He moves across the room towards you and pulls back the comforter. He strokes your cheek with his knuckles gently, looking at you carefully to gauge your reaction. When he’s satisfied, he climbs into bed behind you, pulling you mindfully to sit in between his legs, his chest pressed to your back. He pulls the comforter back up over the two of you, and uses his arms to cage you in to him, enveloping you in his warmth.

Benny’s always run hot. You joke that he’s like a walking space heater, a radiator if you ever need one. Right now, it’s like having your own ball of sunshine, warming you gently from the outside in. You feel the safest you have in two weeks.

“Relax, baby,” he murmurs into your hair. He pulls you in tighter, and nudges your head to rest in the crook of his neck. You inhale deeply – the first real breath you’ve been able to take all day. He smells like sunshine, and salt, and sandalwood, and safety. You relax into him and let all the tension leave your body. You let go of the flashbacks, and the fear, and the chaos, and surrender yourself to Benny.

He stays with you like that for three days. He doesn’t separate himself from you more than a few inches for 72 whole hours, keeping his arms wrapped around you from behind, as if holding you together. When he gets up to go to the bathroom, he takes you with him. You stay attached for three days, skin to skin, allowing his warmth to seep into your bones, to settle your nerves. You’re convinced that no medicine could heal you the way Benny is. Science doesn’t have a match for this. It never will.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When Santiago visits, he brings his guitar.

The first time he came to see you, right at the beginning, he sat with you for 20 minutes before he careened out of the room, gasping for air. The silence was strangling him, sending him into some sort of panic attack. Then, the guilt settled, and he felt like he’d betrayed you so badly that he couldn’t bring himself to go back in. He sat on the floor of the hallway with his back pressed against the door for 6 hours before Will returned home, concern coursing through his veins.

When Santiago explained what had happened, Will looked at him knowingly.

“You don’t have to be deathly silent, you know. You can watch some TV, turn the radio on. Frankie reads to her. Benny talks her ear off - doesn’t stop fucking rambling. I walked in the other day and he was explaining the current state of the NBA to her, team by team. She’ll sleep no matter what.”

Santiago nods, patting Will on the back lovingly before leaving, weighed down by shame.

The next time he visits, he brings his guitar.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s hoping you’ll be asleep. It’s easier to play for you if you aren’t looking at him like he hung the moon with those big, bright eyes of yours. But, lo and behold, he walks into the room you’ve made your own, and you’re wide awake.

“Hi, handsome,” you smile. “Where you been?”

“Oh, you know,” he smirks, “just caring for all the pretty girls that need my help.”

“And here I thought I was special,” you tease.

That smile of yours wraps itself around his heart, tangling in the core of him. You’ve always had that effect on the boys. One grin from you, and all of their problems melt away, even if just for a moment.

“You staying today, or you gonna run away again?”

You’re joking with him. Why are you trying to make him laugh? You should be upset, telling him that he’s a bad friend, that all of the other boys have sat with you for hours, so why can’t he?

But instead, you continue.

“I’m kidding, Santi. I get it, you know. I don’t think I’d be able to sit in a room with you lying there all half dead and helpless if the roles were reversed.”

You’re looking at him with so much understanding in your eyes that he has to choke down the tears that are trying to escape from him.

“It’s not that. It’s just – it’s my fault, bebita. You wouldn’t have even been in Colombia if it wasn’t for me. I’m the reason you got shot.”

He’s crying now – heavy, ugly sobs crawling their way from his chest, up to his throat. His knees give out, and he sits on the side of the bed, hands fisting in your comforter.

“Santi, baby. Hey. Look at me. Please, Pope.”

Your pleading gets his attention. He looks at you with those red rimmed, watery eyes, and your heart breaks so hard you swear you can hear it shatter.

“It wasn’t your fault, Santi. I followed you out there voluntarily. We all did. You know I’d follow you anywhere. I still would. It could have been any of us that got hurt. I’m glad it was me. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing any of you in a hospital bed. It’d break me.”

You’re crying now too, at the thought of one of the boys in your situation. The bullets, the blood, the makeshift bandages they shoved into your side, ripping their shirts and tearing apart anything they could find. You couldn’t have survived that, if the roles were reversed. You wouldn’t have wanted to.

You press your forehead to his, hands tangling in the front of his shirt. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, needing you as close as possible.

You fall asleep like that, face pressed into him, his heartbeat in your ear. Santiago tucks you back into bed gently and takes his place in the armchair, settling down. Pulling his guitar out of the case, he tunes it slowly, meticulously, before beginning to strum the strings carefully. He picks at the strings, playing you tune after tune, only stopping to stretch his arms and crack his knuckles. He plays for you for hours, time slipping by him like sand through his palms. When you wake, you keep your eyes closed, savouring his presence for just a moment longer.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Will doesn’t visit.

He sticks steadily by your side, day in, day out. If Frankie visits for 6 hours, Will sits with you for the other 18. When Benny holds you for 3 days, Will gets anxious, popping his head around the doorframe every few hours, checking in just in case. Since everything happened, Will’s whole universe has revolved around you. Which, he’s realising, is the way it’s always been. His whole world has always been you. He’s just been forced to confront that truth now, and it’s scaring him.

He’s suddenly aware of the fact that he almost lost you. He’s never felt fear like that before. He’s had men press guns to his temple, shoot at him from mere feet away, fight him with their fists. That’s nothing, now. He’d take that any day over watching you lie there, drenched in crimson, dripping with pain. His hands, twisted into your side, wet and slipping, trying to quell the dam that’s broken inside of you. Your eyes, looking into his, terror grasping your whole body like a cold chill. When he falls asleep at night, all he can hear is the way you said his name, like it was the last thing tethering you to the Earth.

He makes a silent vow to himself. A promise - to never let you go again. To protect you forever, no matter what. All of this trauma has just made him love you more. He’s not sure what the future will look like, for him, or for you. But he knows that right now, you need him.

And so he pours all of his love into his actions. He makes you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and sits with you as you eat slowly. He eats at your speed, too - always doing everything at your pace. He combs your hair every morning gently, brushes your teeth twice a day carefully. He tucks you in when you fall asleep, pulling the comforter around you, keeping you safe and warm. As soon as one of the other boys leaves, he takes their place, sitting in the armchair – making sure you’re never alone. Whenever you’re awake, he listens to you pointedly, nodding and smiling. When you have a bad day, he’s right there next to you, wiping the tears from your cheeks and murmuring reassurances gently.

He watches as slowly but surely, you come back to yourself. You’re awake more often, smiling more confidently, cracking jokes and asking for laughs. The two of you are chatting like you used to, about nothing and everything. And you watch as slowly but surely, he returns to Will. The frown lines in his forehead become less pronounced, the worry in his eyes fades slightly. The smiles he throws your way are bigger, more genuine. The scales balance out again.

You’ve been in bed for two weeks when you decide to ask him for a favor.

“Hey, Will?” you query, looking at the blond man who’s currently folding laundry on the dresser.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replies instantly, ready to give you anything you could possibly ask for.

“Can we go outside? I think I might go insane in this room real soon,” you smile, bright and bold.

He beams at you, relief washing over him like an ocean wave. You haven’t left your bed for a fortnight. He’s offered a couple of times, but you refused, scared to leave the comfort of the safe haven you’ve created. But you’re ready now.

“Of course we can. You want me to carry you?”

His tone is light, jesting, but you know he’s being serious. Neither of you are actually sure if you can walk all the way outside.

“I can walk if you carry me down the stairs? Not sure I’m quite ready for those yet.”

He grins at you, and your heart stops. That smile of his seeps into your pores, lifts you up, sends energy flowing through your veins. You’re alive, and you’re okay, and Will Miller is looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You feel invincible.

Admittedly, it does take you 20 minutes to get from your room to the back patio. Will throws a strong arm beneath yours, holding you up as you take the journey step by step. When you reach the stairs, he picks you up bridal style, carrying you carefully. Before he sets you back on your feet, he nudges his nose to yours, still grinning.

The sun soaks into your skin outside, gentle breeze rippling your t shirt that you’re now realising is Benny’s. The leaves rustle in the trees, and you inhale the world, as if seeing it again for the first time. Will sits right next to you on the bench, hand holding yours tightly, fingers interlaced as if he’s worried you’ll blow away.

You glance at Will’s watch and see that it’s only 1pm. You have so much time left. So many possibilities to be fulfilled, so many people to love, so many places to see. But for now, you press yourself into the blond man’s side, settling in. You fit perfectly. Almost as if this is where you belong.

“Can’t believe I almost died without telling you I love you,” you murmur. It’s quiet, but he hears you, loud and clear.

“It’s okay,” he reassures. “You’re here now. We have time. So much time.”

“Forever,” you whisper. “We have forever.”

He turns to look at you in the hues of the bright afternoon. His blond hair is glowing gold, and his blue eyes match the sky, hopeful and full of promise. His hands come up to cradle your face, and he caresses your cheeks with his thumbs, rubbing comforting circles into your skin. He moves in closer, and nudges his nose into yours. He breaks out into a grin, and you can’t help but join him. Leaning in, he presses his lips to yours, soft and reassuring. You melt into him, running one hand into his hair, the other at the nape of his neck. He pulls you impossibly closer, until every part of you is pressed together. The sun is still beaming, and the birds are chirping, and you have time.

“Forever,” he whispers into your mouth when he breaks the kiss.

“Forever,” you murmur back. “We have time.”

You have time.

You have time.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Elizabeth Taylor (Cleopatra, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof)—iconic actress with purple eyes and a double row of eyelashes, the real ebony dementia ravenway of old hollywood. known for her stunning tastes when it comes to jewelry and her incredible, incredible advocacy during the AIDS crisis.

Nutan (Bandini, Anari, Seema)— In an era where plump and petite women were considered the height of beauty, Nutan was thin and gangly. While her beauty is obvious today, she was considered somewhat unusual throughout her acting career, which contains over 70 films. Contrary to the belief that female actresses careers ended after marriage, Nutan won four of her five Filmfare Awards after her marriage and the birth of her son. Nutan was known for her gorgeous, emotive brown eyes and her incredible singing voice.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Elizabeth Taylor:

I've been trying to steer clear of the absurdly-big names, but damnit, those violet eyes got me. The *talent*, the *presence*, the string of marriages and (temporally out-of-bounds) work in combating AIDS and pioneering in the concept of the celebrity fragrance line.

Not only did she have gorgeous violet eyes and lashes for days and one of the hottest voices ever, she was also a big supporter of the gay community

Child actress turned starlet, Liz dominated films as one of the greatest screen legends of classic hollywood. If your protagonist has violet eyes, they're imitating hers.

A Legend. She was serving milf rage in Whos Afraid Of Virginia Woolf. A Star in every sense of the word.

She was renowned for the beauty of her eyes; they were a dark blue but could look violet in certain lighting, something that photographers would actually touch up to look even more so in pictures. But even more striking was a genetic mutation that gave her a double row of eyelashes. She was also famed for her string of husbands -- 8 marriages to 7 men. Two-time hubby Richard Burton once said she was “a wildly exciting love-mistress… beautiful beyond the dreams of pornography.”

Her EYES. Early and loud support for gay rights and AIDS victims. Married a bunch of hot dudes, Burton twice!

just look at her. she's gorgeous. there's a video somewhere of her applying her eyeliner in the mirror and I think about it all the time

THE Hollywood actress of all time. Not only was she known for her long dark locks and blue-violet eyes, she also had one of the wildest life stories ever….. She’s Carrie Fisher’s stepmother because her father Eddie Fisher cheated on Debbie Reynolds with Liz. She was knighted as a dame of England. She was married to seven different men, one of them twice. She was also very kindhearted and did a lot of charity activism.

Asides from being an iconic actor, she did a lot of philanthropy and co founded the American Foundation for AIDS research. She’s sometimes considered one of the last great stars of old hollywood

Nutan:

[smallpeniscollective]

First Time

Daryl Dixon x Reader (18+)

Summary: (takes place in season 2 on the farm, Daryl and the reader are out on a hunt, and they stumble across an empty cabin, and then they seize an opportunity)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: walkers, sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex

*~*~*

It was rare for Daryl to be accompanied on a hunt. He usually moved quickly and worked alone, but this time, she had asked him to take her as well. She had flattered her way into the position with, “You’re just so good at hunting,” and “I want you to teach me, so I can help the group.” She knew exactly what to say to get him to agree to take her out, but what she didn’t know was that he wanted to be alone with her.

It’s not like alone time didn’t exist at the farm, but he was a very private man, and couldn’t ask her to sit with him in front of everyone, or just anyone. But when he came back from the woods yesterday after searching tirelessly for Sophia with a rope of dead squirrels across is back, she approached him.

She was no hunter. She had this insistent natural belief that every single little living creature could have had a family or could feel extreme pain and suffering. She decided it was time to get over this and try to return to her human nature as an animal of the food chain. The squirrels were smaller than her, and the group needed to eat.

She was quiet and graceful in the forest, barely making a sound as she tiptoed over twigs and crunchy leaves. But she still felt a hollow guilt in her chest every time she managed to catch a squirrel. She couldn’t kill it, not after she had looked into its panicked little eyes.

“You do it, Daryl,” she said, giving him the tiny creature who was desperately scratching to get out of her hands. “I can’t kill him, I looked into his eyes.”

“Ya mean kill it. These ain’t people like us, they’re the food that we need to eat. They’re our survival,” he said with his agitated southern drawl.

“Hey, at least I caught it. I may be a bad hunter, but you can’t say I can’t catch,” she retorted, as he took the squirming squirrel from her hand. He quickly snapped its neck, causing her to wince and look away. He scoffed at this.

“Do not call me a pussy right now, Daryl, or I swear to god,” she joked, not even finishing her sentence to let his mind wander about what her meek little self would be capable of doing to him.

They snaked through the woods until they stumbled upon a small cabin with a tin green roof. The little building was eerily quiet, although no quiet was comfortable these days. Daryl went in first, holding up his crossbow to take out any immediate threat and slowly opening the front door in an attempt to be quiet and discreet, but the old door creaked loudly. She followed him closely through every room, almost clipping his heels several times. If it was anyone else, he would have made an annoyed remark about them breathing down his neck, but he didn’t feel annoyed at having her so close. He felt better, like he was keeping her safer.

Once the small space was searched, he sighed, placing his bow gently on the dingy, unstable table in the kitchen. She crouched down to check cabinets for any canned or preserved goods, and he searched the pantry and fridge for any dried goods or bottled beverages. “Y’know,” she said mindlessly, as she rifled through extremely expired or already-opened items, “back in the good days, I would’ve used an abandoned cabin like this to do a lotta devious things.”

“What kinda things?” he asked with a reserved tone that indicated he was much more curious about her statement than he was letting on.

“Well, I was a chronic stoner, abandoned building seshes hit the best, but only when you’re with someone,” she said, smiling to herself as she looked back on the fun she had in her youth. “No fun being by yourself in one of these things.”

He looked at her with a slightly quizzical gaze, as he abandoned his pantry search to stand closer to her. “Didn’t take ya as a druggie,” he huffed in a defensive tone.

He told her very little about Merle, but she remembered how he told her about Merle’s drug habits. Suddenly, she felt guilty about recalling her drug experiences with joy when he had only known it as a destructive force. She closed the cabinet, turning around and standing up to meet his gaze. “It wasn’t like that,” she said quietly with a timid demeanor. “I never did anything hard, I was just a kid with nothing to do.”

“Yeah,” he said curtly, dropping his stare to the dirty floor, clearly getting more defensive about the topic.

Not wanting to drop the conversation, she threw out a last-ditch effort to keep him talking to her. She crossed her arms, rubbing the sides of her upper arms as she expressed, “Hey, thanks for taking me with you on your run... I know we don’t talk a lot, but I enjoy it when we do.”

The tension building in his shoulders dropped and he looked back at her. “I, uh, enjoy it too,” he admitted. For a moment it felt like there was a spark, a hint of something more to come between them. She softly smiled, looking down bashfully before locking eyes with him again. He could see the sparkle in her eyes, but he was never as bold as Merle was when it came to making moves. Hell, Merle would harass women like he got paid to do it. Daryl was forever stuck as the little brother, being put down so much as a kid making him now too shy as an adult to be as confident as his older brother.

She, on the other hand, was always so relaxed around him. She almost never seemed too shy to say what was on her mind. He didn’t know if this came from a new lifestyle of expecting life to end short, or if she had always been this way, but he appreciated her talking to him even when he couldn’t find words to say.

Suddenly, the sight of a walker passed by the kitchen window. The rotting man with a half-gouged face stumbled by the window, oblivious to what was just past the glass shield.

She was facing away from the window, but he saw and reacted immediately, pulling her to him and covering her mouth and with his large hand before she let out a muffled gasp from the unexpected grabbing. He pulled her down the ground with him, below the line of sight through the window. Her panicked eyes locked with his, and he put a finger to his lips, nonverbally queuing her to make no sounds. He gestured towards the window, and she understood that he must’ve seen something that caused him to react.

After a few minutes to make sure the walker was gone, he took his hand off of her mouth, and she realized his body was closer to hers than anyone’s body has ever been. She began to blush, feeling her body growing hotter and adrenaline-induced arousal blooming in her. Being a virgin was something she never talked about; it just never came up in a world where survival was what mattered. And even though survival mattered now, all she could focus on was the pressure of his body weight on top of hers, and his abdomen pressing into her hips.

Daryl knew the walker passed without noticing them or being drawn to the cabin, but he found that he couldn’t lift himself off of her just yet. He could sense her demeanor had shifted and that she wasn’t just nervous now, but flustered. She swallowed the saliva that gathered in her mouth anxiously, giving the most awkward, breathy chuckle before whispering, “I’ve, uh... never been this close to anyone before,” thinking it would be humorous.

He gave an obvious up-and-down before whispering in return, “A pretty thing like you’s never been touched before?”

She went stiff, her mouth forming a flat line before shaking her head to signify that, no, she had never been touched and confirming that, yes, she was a virgin.

He paused for a moment, teetering the border of being respectful and staying silent or offering some sort of fix for her, to help her experience her first time before either of their lives could possibly be cut short by the new rough world’s circumstances. “Y’know...” he quietly stammered, “we could—”

“Yes,” she whispered, cutting him off before he could finish his question. Normally, she would have been painfully shy, but his body already against hers, the rush of the sudden hiding, and how much she undeniably enjoyed his hand over her mouth all lined up to have her needing more. This was the first time she had ever had this rush, and she trusted Daryl with her life.

Truthfully, this wasn’t the first time he had thought about this. One of the only single, pretty girls in their camp? Of course he had thought about this. He never thought he was particularly her type, or that she’d even look his way like that, but in this moment, he was able to put all of those thoughts to the side.

He looked into her eyes deeply, scanning her face for anything that would let him know that he should not take her right here, right now. He found nothing. In fact, the glimmer in her eyes pleaded with him to make a move. He dipped his head down to her, placing his lips on hers with that masculine force that intensified the kiss tenfold.

She gasped from the suddenness of his move, but quickly melted into his touch, creeping her fingers up his sides. As their kiss deepened, his body moved up against hers, and a small whine caught in her throat from the pressure changes. She spread her legs, allowing his body to dip in closer and his hips to meet hers. He could just feel the heat radiating from her clothed loins, causing him to harden in his pants. Feeling the stiffness press against her sent electricity flying all throughout her body and sent anticipatory shivers down her spine. In her pheremone-induced confidence, she removed the first article of clothing, letting go of his hair to reach down and pull her shirt up over her head, momentarily breaking their kiss and revealing her bra. He took his opportunity to latch his lips onto her neck, rubbing his hands all over her exposed torso while sucking hard on the soft skin of her neck. There were definitely going to be marks left, but she didn’t mind.

He grabbed a hold of her hips, grinding his covered erection against the inner seam of her jeans, causing her to gasp from the sensation of her seam being pushed into her. She reached down to unbutton her pants, needing less layers between the grinding, but he stopped her hands. He pulled her pants down the length of her legs for her in a gentlemanly manner, making her feel more confident that he was the right man to do this with for the first time. He couldn’t help but stare at her panties, becoming painfully hard at the sight of the desperate wet patch that was already there.

And there she was, half-naked in all her glory on a dirty kitchen floor in an old abandoned cabin, him still fully dressed. But he wasn’t ready to indulge himself in the pleasure of taking her just yet. She watched in nervous awe as he reached a hand down, grazing his knuckles against her covered slit, the ridges of his knuckles making her hips buck up and eliciting a soft whimper form her. The noise from her reminded him of where they were and what had just happened. With a cautious tone, he whispered, “I’m gon’ need you to keep real quiet for me, darlin’. Wouldn’ wanna attract any walkers.”

She nodded softly, her eyes big and round in a plea for him to continue. His goal was to give her the best first time he could, so he gingerly pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them to the side next to her jeans, scooting himself back so that he could fully see her soaked heat.

He dipped his head below her line of sight, using his tongue to lick a sloppy stripe up the center of her folds, ending with a flick at her sensitive bud. This elicited a moan from her, after which she threw her arm over her mouth to muffle any more noise. He admittedly was not the best at eating pussy, but he did what felt natural in an effort to warm her up for him. He placed his large calloused hands on her thighs, spreading them farther as he softly lapped at her, spreading the wetness from her hole. He could hear her muffled whines as she attempted to remain quiet, which encouraged him to slide his tongue up, hooking onto the little bud, causing her hips to buck. Realizing this was a sensitive spot, he deftly latched his lips around the bud of nerves, sucking softly while occasionally adding a prodding lick up from her entrance. This must have been the right thing to do because it had her grinding her hips up onto his face and gripping his hair with the hand that wasn’t muffling her moans. He moved a hand from her thigh to touch her, feeling her sopping wetness on his fingers. He then slowly and carefully dipped a thick finger into her, making her moan the loudest she had yet.

He lifted his head to say, “Shh, baby, we gotta keep quiet,” before returning his mouth to her heat.

“It just feels so good,” she whispered in the most desperate voice he had ever heard from her. This turned him on more, but his attention returned to her loins, as he began to pump his finger in and out while he resumed his tongue on her sensitive bud. When he added a second finger to help stretch her out before his length did, he could just see what it did to her. She held her legs up, thighs squeezing him with intensity as she felt an unfamiliar tightening in her core. The sensation made her a whining mess, moving her hips in rhythm against his face.

He pulled back, removing his fingers from her warmth, making her whine like a spoiled child in response. “Why’d you stop?” she whispered, and he gave a light chuckle.

“Don’ tell me I’ve spoiled ya, sweetheart,” he joked, leaning back to pull his shirt off. She watched him do this, eyeing his muscular abdomen and letting it excite her further. He unzipped his pants, pushing down his pants and boxers below his hips, finally revealing his throbbing erection. She stared at it like an animal in the zoo that she had never seen before, instinctively reaching out a inquisitive hand to grab hold of it, pulling a grunt from deep in his throat. She ran the tips of her fingers up the length, lightly dancing her fingertips on the head, the sensation causing a drip of pre-cum to leak out, and she swiped it with her thumb, her eyes studying it with intrigue.

He took his length in his hand, and lined it up with her entrance, stroking it up and down her slit a couple of times to gather her wetness on it. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he pushed in, releasing her breath with a sigh. Thank god he had warmed her up first, but even still it hurt a little bit as he pushed all the way in. He stopped moving when he was all the way in, pausing to look in her eyes with a look that conveyed a message of, ‘You ready for this?’

She nodded, rolling her eyes back as he started with a slow pace. His thick arms surrounded her as he held himself above her, watching her face as it changed from slight pain to pleasure. She had never felt such a deep pleasure in her before, her eyes welling with tears of joy as she struggled to keep herself from moaning loudly. The push and pull of his member in her felt like the push and pull of an ocean wave of pleasant tingles, that tightness in her core beginning to return.

When he picked up his pace, letting out his own small grunts, she couldn’t hold her moans back anymore. The sounds of her pleasure sounded like beautiful music to his ears, but then he remembered why she had to stifle them in the first place. He moved a hand to cover her mouth, gripping her jaw a tightly as he continued to thrust. The hand on her mouth turned her on more, letting herself make all of her noises into his hand.

“Baby, yer gonna bring in some walkers if ya keep makin’ those pretty sounds,” he cooed, sounding more gentle than she had ever heard his voice. She nodded, breathing deeply with her nose and hearing the whistle from her nostrils against his hand. The tightening in her body had shifted to a building sensation, as the gliding of his length through her and the danger of being so vulnerable mixed together to create an excitement that she had never been close to feeling before. Every time he thrusted into her, it felt like he was hitting a button that sent sparks all throughout her body, and she could feel all of her pleasure gather in one place as he bent his head down to lay more sloppy wet kisses on her neck.

He kept his rhythm steady, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her for her first time, but he could feel himself becoming needier, needing more of her enveloped around him, so he pressed harder, deeper. The deeper he hit that spot in her, the closer she was to reaching that peak of pleasure, and soon her nails were digging into his sides. Her moans morphed into high pitched squeals buried beneath his hand, letting him know that she was close.

And she was so close. She felt as her walls uncontrollably tightened around him as her inched towards the edge of her orgasm, and he began thrusting fast and hard, overstimulating her senses and sending her body into a pleasurable shock. She began moving her hips up into his as her body craved more.

And then it happened. Her body hit its peak of stimulation, a surge of indescribable pleasure billowed through her, making her walls clench down so tightly on him that he had to hiss through his teeth to not finish then and there. Hot tears rolled down the sides of her face and she shakily moaned with an open, drooling mouth into his hand. As he continued his hard pounding, the audacious sounds of the wet slapping sent him into a frenzy of desire, speeding up his pace as he neared his own climax. The continuing pleasure had her writhing underneath him, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly and pulling him closer. His hand squeezed her jaw hard, sure to leave some bruising on the edges of her cheeks, yet she still let out gleeful moans as he rode out her orgasm for her. He reached a hard finish, letting out a guttural grunt as his hips stuttered, releasing a hot load into her and tiredly dropping his head into her neck and finally letting go of her mouth.

In a foggy haze of her first time being cock-drunk, she still managed a tiny giggle. He perked his head up, looking at her half-lidded eyes and a slight curl up of his lips. He spoke with a low gravelly tone as he quietly asked, “Not bad for a first time?”

“Not bad? How are people not doing this all the time?” she whispered over-excitedly, evoking a sheepish smile from him.

“C’mon now, we gotta head back,” he reminded her, getting up off of her and extending out a hand to help her up. She shyly took his hand, surprised at how easily he yanked her up off the ground. She would have felt embarrassed about being so undressed, but it turned into a humorous bubble popping up in her when she noticed his square little man-butt before he pulled his boxers and pants back up. But the bubble burst when she saw the old, large scars on his back. Saving that conversation for when they weren’t in a post-coital glow, she looked away and got dressed quietly as he pulled his shirt back on over his head.

They snuck out of the cabin, after only finding an unopened box of saltine crackers and an old warm six-pack of beer to bring back to the group.

“So,” she started, nervously kicking the dirt as she trailed behind Daryl, “did you want this to just be a one time thing, or...?”

“Darlin’, I hope we get to do that all the time,” he teased, throwing her own words back at her.

She smiled to herself as she followed him back to the farm.

[mwahmwahkissesdarling]

My A'aru, My Heaven

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Fem/Maybe Genderfluid Reader

Summary: A taste testing night with a sprinkle of love (and religion ig)

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, extreme fluff, err fluff, more fluff, Cussing maybe, spelling and grammar mistakes, controversial topic, religion, me writing Christianity as someone who is not Christian, uhhh lmk if i need to put any other warnings???? idk

Note: yall the ahkmenrah brain rot is ... rotting? my brain? so hard

Alsooooooo this is my first fic (on this acc, posted anyway) so be easy

*A'aru is the Egyptian equivalent of Heaven for Christians <33 #wikipedia

You rip open a colorful package and hand it to Ahkmenrah.

"Here, these are gummy worms."

The Pharoah looked alarmed. "You eat…worms?"

You laugh. "Theyre not real worms. Here, just try one."

Ahk glances at you, unconvinced, but he takes a red and blue gummy in between his fingers and nibbles at it.

"Hm."

"Well?" You bit into yours and watched his reaction.

He shrugs. "Theyre… enjoyable, I suppose, but I don't prefer them myself."

You grin. "Yeah, me niether, I just wanted to see what you thought." You turn in your criss-cross-applesauce position on the floor in Ahkmen's exhibit to pick out a new candy and come back with two tin wrapped chocolate pieces. Picking one out, you hand it to him. "Have a Kiss," you joke.

Ahk stares at the candy in his hand, then back at you. "S-sorry?"

You look back at him, then realizing he wouldn't know the name of this candy, you laugh. "It's the name of the candy. Hershey Kisses." He slowly smiles. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a kiss, either." You roll your eyes. "Seriously-"

Ahk cuts you off with his lips. You lean into the kiss, setting your 'Kiss' down and running your hands up his torso and into his hair, letting your fingers tangle there. He cups your face with one hand and places the other on his sarcophagus case behind you, pressing you against it. You let him, knowing he usually doesn't take control like this.

After a moment, Ahk breaks away and breaths heavily, catching his breath.

"Do I really take away your breath that bad?" You joke, panting.

He runs his thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes flitting between your lips and your eyes. "Yes," He says simply. "You do."

You feel yourself blush and you smile. "Love you too, Ahk," was all you could get out.

Ahk smiles back and brushes his lips against your temple, then leans back, letting you have your space to continue taste-testing modern candy.

You resume your earlier position and cross your legs, pressing your knee against his as you grab your Hersheys. "Come on, eat it."

He groans but takes it and unwraps it with your guidance. He pops it into his mouth and his eyes widen.

You grin at him. "Right? Personally I prefer caramel with my chocolate, but I figured start small, y'know?"

Ahk slowly chews it. "Holy Ra. This is chocolate?" His mouth is still full, and you giggle at his bad manners. "Don't talk with your mouth full. Come on, King Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth kingdom of Egypt and all things fancy, have better manners." You tease and pause. "But yeah, it's chocolate. Although I'd describe it as heaven."

The Pharoah glanced at you, opening another Hershey. "I thought you said that was a place."

You nod, taking the Kiss out of his hands, throwing in the air, and catching it with your mouth. "Yeah. The place that Christians beleive is the perfect afterlife."

Ahk glares at you but otherwise ignores your theft. "You cant call a taste or an object heaven, then. It'd go against grammar rules and the belief of a Chrisin."

Swallowing, you shrug. "First of all, it's Christian, second of all, I don't think they care anymore, although don't quote me on that. My ma's Christian, and she refers to my mother as heaven."

He frowns, thinking. "So, you can call your other half 'heaven'?"

"Some people do," you pause. "Well. I've only ever heard it from my parents, and also Bruno Mars, but I think if someone says it in public, it's considered PDA. Public displays of affection." You reply to his confused look.

Ahk nods. "And thats… frowned upon." You make an "eh" sound. "Well, people don't particularly like it, but it's not as bad as, like, racism or something. Far from it." You scoff.

"So, for a… hypothetical example… I could call you heaven, but only in… private."

You turn and stare at him, a blush forming "W-well, yes, I-"

He kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose all train of thought, lost in his touch. He pulls you close, practically onto his lap before pulling away.

"You're my heaven." Ahk smiles at you, and you smile back.

"And you're my A'aru."

Your Pharoah, your king, your Ahk, your little slice of heaven, in your little corner of home.

[lick-me-lennon22]

How they'd comfort you after a SH episode

(thank you to anon for this request!! I know this is a sensitive subject for many so I understand the decision to skip this one ❣️ those who choose to read on, I hope you enjoy!)

⚠️⚠️⚠️ TW: SELF-HARM ⚠️⚠️⚠️

John

John is immediately panicked and uneasy at the sight of you this way

he's seen his fair share of blood, but never that of someone he loves so dearly

for once he's at a loss, no longer his usual smooth and confident self

he stumbles over his words and mumbles reassurances under his breath, hoping to provide you some sense of comfort while he gets his thoughts in order

he knows this isn't something he can joke his way around

John cleans and bandages you up, having done the same for himself countless times following the frequent fights of his youth

he gives you one of his T-shirts to borrow and settles onto the bed next to you

he shares his own thoughts and struggles with you, wanting you to feel less alone

John doesn't have much to offer in the way of coping strategies or outlets, as he isn't exactly the best at managing his own emotions

instead he rubs your back and shushes you, rambling and sharing mindless stories to take your mind off of things until you're able to drift off to sleep

Paul

Paul's doe eyes fill with tears at the sight of your fresh wounds, threatening to spill over before he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves

he mentally scolds himself, knowing he has to hold it together so as not to upset his beloved any further

he takes a gentle and nurturing approach the delicate situation at hand, slowly stepping closer to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder

Paul offers endless words of reassurance, telling you how beautiful you are and reminding you that you're the light of his life and the strongest person he knows

he helps you clean up if you allow him, gingerly patting your skin with a dampened cloth

he places gentle kisses on your forehead and strokes your hair, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears as he finally lets his own slip down his ruddy cheeks

when you're clean and settled into bed, Paul picks up his guitar and begins to strum

he plays you a soothing melody, hoping the soft chords and lilt of his voice will lull you to sleep so you can rest and recover

George

George approaches the situation with a calm but serious demeanor

he is deeply concerned for you, but understands your pain and doesn't want to push you to open up to him before you're ready

he soaks a washcloth in cool water and dabs it on your skin to clean you up

he'll fetch you a clean set of clothing to make sure you're comfortable and cared for

though he doesn't want to pry, a quiet voice in his head urges him to help you work through your overwhelming emotions

the man of few words suddenly finds much to say, offering wisdom from his own spiritual practices and beliefs

he emphasizes the importance of finding inner peace and grounding yourself before granting you some time to process his words

when you're ready, George walks you through a guided meditation and some mindful breathing techniques, hoping to bring you some peace of mind

Ringo

Ringo is devastated and doesn't quite understand the situation or what may have led you to do this

he wonders how the one he adores so much could ever want to cause such harm to themselves

he offers to do or bring you anything you need, desperate to remedy the situation

he rifles through the bathroom cabinet for bandages, finally coming across a small metal tin

Ringo rushes over to kneel by your side and begins to place the adhesive bandages over your wounds

being the supportive partner he is, he's so blinded by his dedication to caring for you that he doesn't seem to notice the bandages are far too small

when he gets to the fifth one you fail to stifle a laugh, amused by his determination to make them fit

his face lights up when he hears you laugh - the most melodic sound he could ever imagine

he tries to cheer you up with his usual nonsensical Ringo-isms, lightening your mood and easing your worries with talk of silly fantasies and reminders of your happiest memories together

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

March Week 3 - Traditions, Associations, Tools and Symbols

This week we will have several new pages. One for a personal look at your practice given the above prompts, one for a family/ ancestral look at the prompts, and one for your community, no matter how big that community is. Whether that is just you and your immediate friends, or something wider like a coven or group you regularly talk to your about your practice.

This will be another week with a lot of stuff in the prompts!

Monday - Traditions

First lets define tradition.

noun: tradition

the transmission of customs or beliefs from generation to generation, or the fact of being passed on in this way.

a long-established custom or belief that has been passed on from one generation to another.

an artistic or literary method or style established by an artist, writer, or movement, and subsequently followed by others.

a doctrine believed to have divine authority though not in the scriptures.

Personal page - Take a look inward at yourself and your traditions, inside and outside of your witchcraft practice. What things do you do regularly, to keep your life and your habits on track? Your practice? How do you celebrate things both large and small? What are the traditions you hold personally in your life?

Family/ Ancestor page - Ask your family about these, beyond the ones you know. What are some of your family traditions? How does your family celebrate certain things, large and small? What meals are traditional to your family? Are there any prayers or actions of any kind that are passed down? Look deep and ask about your family further back than just the ones you've met.

Community page - Look at your community at large. Friend groups, a coven or other people who practice like you or with you, and the community you live in. What are some traditions that are held and passed down through generations within that larger community? Everything from celebrations to regularly held events and so on! How does it all relate to your practice or how has it become a part of it?

Tuesday -Associations/ Symbols

Personal page - What are some things you personally associate with yourself and your craft? Everything from foods, to plants, gems, animals, everything you associate with any part of your identity.

Family/ Ancestor page - What are some things from the list above that you associate with your family and your ancestors?

Community page - Same goes for your community. What associations do you hold for your community? We all feel a certain kind of way, and think about certain things when we think about our hometowns or the area in which we live. An example, I live in Ohio, so not so jokingly, there's a lot of corn here, a lot of farmland. That's something I associate with my community.

Wednesday - Tools

Personal page - What are some of the tools you personally use in your craft? It can be anything at all. An example from my practice is a small tin i keep on my altar, decorated with paint and symbols that I use as a sort of money offering tin. I put money in it regularly when I practice at my altar and use it to buy new things for my altar. Another is a round cylindrical tin I use to hold the small pages I've written my devotional poetry on. Anything that is specific to you and your practice.

Family/ Ancestor page - Same kind of deal as above, but on a broader scale, focused on your family and ancestry. What are some of the tools your family uses (both in and out of the traditions you've learned about). An example is my grandmother's piano. We use it as a focal point for a great many things. We come together at it to sing songs that remind us of our family.

Community page - Again, like the above, but focused on your community. A local fountain, or park, or place, a thing people in your community use for some sort of reason. There is a local park with a fountain that holds an important place in our community.

Thursday - A Little Treat

So for today, we're gonna have a bit of an offshoot. We're gonna get in the kitchen and cook! You don't have to do this one, but there's been a lot of stuff for the prompts this week, so let's treat ourselves while adding to our grimoires! Find some recipes!

Personal page - What's a recipe that you came up with on your own, pertaining to or not pertaining to your practice? If there is a certain food you like to cook before/ after spells or rituals, record it on your personal page. Then, go cook it! And enjoy!

Family/ Ancestor page - Ask your family if you want, and discover the recipe for something that has been passed down in your family. I will forever swear by my grandmother's potato soup recipe. Record it on this page, then make it!

Community page - Is there a local favorite spot? Is there a restaurant or place locally that you could visit and eat at? Or is there some sort of cuisine that is made locally and not really anywhere else? Record it if its something you can cook, and make it! If it is a place to visit, go there! And enjoy!

Friday - Back to the norm

Let's finish off the week with our regular research prompts!

New Page/ Research - Herbal research- Pick another herb from your list and learn all you can about it! Record it on a new page!

New Page/ Research - Gemstone/ other - Pick another gemstone or type of magic or tool, make a page or add the info to an existing page!

Whew! That was a lot! Feel free to share your recipes or pictures of what you cook, either by submissions on this page or by tagging me either here or at @thehazeldruid and I'll share what you've made!

Good luck and happy crafting witches!!

-Mod Hazel

[trashmouth-richie]

TEASING: ii

part i

Eddie x Fem!reader

W.C 5k

tw: NO MINORS, Teasing, edging, blowjobs, hickies blah blah blah you get it.

s/o to all the people I made read this to make sure it was good enough — @jadequeen88 @lunatictardis @b-irock 🖤🖤

The next day at school, you could feel a pair of eyes burrowing into your skin, burning holes into the back of your head. You kept your chin held high the entire day, avoiding Eddie’s glare at all costs. Knowing you had won the little game he had started. A sense of pride spreading from your chest to across your face, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Eddie was quite the opposite. Girls didn’t tease him. He was the one to call the shots. But you, you disrespected him. Taunted him, teased him— and he loathed you for it. He was embarrassed, made a fool of— and he wouldn't forget it, wouldn’t let you get away with it.

Driving home last night with a rock hard cock, he had tried to get himself off for what seemed like hours. Pumping himself furiously, his dick raw and red, he just couldn’t do it. He pictured your pretty lips, wrapped tight around his length. The silk of them rubbing back and forth against his ruddy head like it was a tube of lipstick. He thought of the way your delicate hands stretched to fit around him, the way you moaned around him, biting into his thighs, as your orgasm peaked. Your eyes looking up at him through your lashes as you teased him again, and again. He was out of lotion, his hand and wrist were cramping, sweat was pouring down his back, shirt already off, bottom lip almost bitten in half, the fitted sheet pulled from the mattress— inching further down the bed with every angry groan and thrust of his body in pursuit of trying to glimpse the tiniest bit of relief. But nothing happened. Frustrated beyond belief, he stomped into the kitchen. Sweat pants and boxers rode low on his hips, linoleum creaking beneath his heavy footsteps. He punched your number into the phone— lighting a cigarette as he cradled it with his shoulder. His hair was askew, cramped curls jutting out in every which way. He wanted you to know how much he was suffering. How badly you had fucked up his night. Maybe the sound of your voice coaxing him would help— give him some sort of release.

His heart leapt when you answered, only to crash and burn when you simply stated, “I’m asleep Munson, leave me alone.” And hung up.he cursed your name, slamming the receiver into the wall until it broke, can’t wait to hear that ass chewing from Wayne, he thought to himself— Eddie threw himself into the shower, angrily washing his hair, and body, trying like mad to avoid the pressure building in his lower belly as he forced himself to think of something else, anything other than the pain that ached through his body.

The night was miserable. Having spent most of it outside on the porch smoking cigarette after cigarette. Sulking into the tattered, sagging, brown couch—the skinny, feral trailer park cats keeping him company as they tipped over the neighbors garbage cans, scrounging for the last lick of a carton of vanilla ice cream. He stayed on the couch til the early peaks of the hazy yellow sun glimmered across the hail damaged tinned roofs of the poverty-stricken homes before he started getting ready for school. 6:30, 6:56, 7:15, 7:23 and he couldn’t wait any longer. He fumbled through the pocket of the jeans he wore yesterday for the few crumbled dollars, and made his way outside, starting the old van, driving to the gas station in search of some cheap, barely edible breakfast burritos.

With the burritos dancing around his stomach and a swig of Yoo-hoo slurped on his lips, Eddie sits in the parking lot—staring, waiting, half crazed eyes as he waits for your car to pull in. Body pumping with false energy— adrenaline from being so irate about his current blue balls situation, your car finally pulls into the lot and eddie makes his move.

All the hours spent awake chain smoking, fuming mad— he thought of the perfect things to say, things that would make you break, make your pussy clench around nothing, make you so feral and horny for him that you would be begging for him by the end of the day. He hops out of the van, attitude cranked up to full blast, charm at an all time high.

You eye his van before he even sees you, butterflies flutter in your stomach, a quick ache of feeling like shit is about to hit the fan. Ignore him, I can do that. So you do, when he slams his van door and approaches you twiddling his rings on his hands and stomping towards your open car door, you act like he isn’t even there. His velvet smooth voice purring out your name doesn’t phase you. Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, and knocking him in the chest, you simply shut your car door and walk inside.

The game has only begun.

His temper is unmatched. Blood boiling over to the surface as you pretend he doesn’t exist. You spend the morning laughing with friends, head thrown back— the expanse of your neck dancing along with the sunlight craning through the biology room windows. Three pencils have snapped in his grip as he tries, for the first time ever, to feverishly take notes. Anything to get his mind off the way your legs are crossed and the fact that your skirt rides higher every time you re adjust them. Now you’re chewing gum, blowing soft pepto bismol colored bubbles with your luscious lips, the same ones that were wrapped around the thick of his cock last night when you teased him and left him with swollen balls. Each pop from your gum and smack between your teeth has Eddie’s dick twitching in his jeans, rubbing raw against the itchy fabric of his checkered boxers. His jaw is aching from the forced detachment, mouth drier than any cotton mouth he’s experienced, tongue stuck inside his cheek as he forces his gaze from your legs. When your pencil drops and you fetch to reach it, bending at the waist, as you crane to reach out for it rolling along the tiled floor, your fingers gently grazing the ground as they finally connect to where the pencil lays, Eddie thinks he’s going to have a heart attack. The button on your shirt pops open exposing the swell of your breasts, the baby pink lace of your bra nuzzled against your soft skin has Eddie’s head spinning. His eyes are following your heaving chest, watching as your tits jiggle under your bent body. He’s fully hard now. It's not long before he’s tilting on his stool, to get a better look— one leg off the ground, and he can almost smell your perfume. Two legs in the air, and he’s smelling the shampoo from your hair, and finally all four are air bound as Eddie crashes to the ground in a puddle of leather, chains and shame.

You don’t bat an eye at him or his theatrics. Simply raising your hand to answer Mr. Gordon’s question about how many quarts of blood an average human has in their body. The heat from Eddie’s cheeks could be felt around the room. Counting down the seconds til the bell rang ending the period and his embarrassment, Eddie gathers his things and stomps out of class in a whirlwind of leather, messy curls and flushed red cheeks.

You: 1 Eddie: 0

Lunch isn’t any better. You make it a point to sit beside Jeff—across from Eddie, not next to him as you usually would. Eddie tried to calm his nerves, you’re still avoiding him like the plague, twirling your hair through your fingers pretending to be interested in the way Jeff talks about Black Sabbath. Eddie’s flicking pretzels into Mike’s hair— a makeshift way to distract himself from the way you have your fingers cloaked around Jeff’s arms asking him to flex his muscles.

Your low murmurs into Jeff’s ear have him adjusting himself in his chair. Your charm is thick, and Eddie can’t stop staring at the way your lips dance on the shell of Jeff’s ear, as you whisper to him. The ache in his stomach is back as you lean back and fix the collar of Jeff’s flannel, fingers skirting around his shoulders as if you were playing Mozart. Your black fingernail polish glistening in the sun, shining tiny flecks of glitter as they walk across Jeff’s shoulders, rubbing down his chest. Eddie feels like he’s going to vomit at any second. White hot rage pumping through his veins as you continue your teasing banter, licking your lips, popping grapes into your mouth one by one, sucking on the sweet juices and letting your tongue brush against your lips as if to not miss a single drop.

Maybe if he just talked to you, you would respond? “So, y/n. Are you excited for Hellfire tomorrow night?” he says nonchalantly, praying it’s passing as casual.

“Hell what?” You dismiss, still not turning to look at him, but instead threading your fingers and feeding Jeff a grape with your other hand.

“Uh umm.. Hellfire?” Jeff adds, “Y’know, Hellfire club, we m-meet on Fridays.”

“Oh, yeah—that,” you snicker, “I quit.”

“What do you mean ‘I quit’” Eddie mimics back to you.

Ignoring the question, you turn to Jeff and whisper in his ear, squeezing his arm and squealing as he stutters through an answer to your own question, “how are you the sexiest man in Hawkins?” When it happens. The tin of Eddie’s lunchbox beats down on the table with such a force it dents the side, concaving his metal tin full of weed and plastic baggies.

“Enough.” Eddie shouts with flared nostrils and a booming voice. His eyes are wide and the muddy browns of them are replaced by pure hatred of onyx, absorbing every color and fading them to black as he glares straight through you. You had finally crossed the line. Made a fool of him in front of his friends. His chair is pushed backwards cascading to the ground with a loud snap of hardened plastic hitting the tiled floor. One fist clenched around his beaten up lunch box, the other ridgid hanging by his side. “Outside, now.”

You reposition the foot you had propped up on Jeff’s crotch as you lean into him, taking a spoonful of his pudding and placing it into your mouth as you look at Eddie, batting your lashes slow and licking the cold metal of the spoon as you pull it out of your mouth slowly, teasing, taunting, unholy movements of your tongue. “I think he’s talking to you, Gareth,” you quip, motioning to him with the spoon.

Gareth doesn’t move, frozen with fear over Eddie’s reaction.

“No,” he seethes through bared teeth, “I’m talking to you, let’s go.” He motions his head towards the door walking closer to you and Jeff.

“I know you’re not trying to talk to me like that,” you fume, eyes still boring into his as you switch the spoon pointing from Gareth to Eddie, “so please, enlighten us,” you say, folding an arm beneath your chest tucked into the elbow of the other that is now resting on the side of your face, glaring back at Eddie as your tongue jabs to the inside of your cheek, “who the fuck, are you talking to?”

The table goes silent, Dustin looks as if he has seen a real live ghost, his skin the color of the pale walls, sticky with sweat on his upper lip, Mike is counting water marks on the ceiling tiles, and Jeff is dumbstruck, eyes wide and a slight look of horror set on his face.

Eddie doesn’t give up and you don’t budge— a standstill in the cafeteria that would make Wild Bill itch for his pistol. The tumbleweeds can practically be seen as you both stare each other down waiting for the other to draw first. Eddie gives in, narrowing his eyes and lowering his chin as he speaks, “I’m gonna count down from three before I jump on this table and tell the whole school about last night— unless of course you want to just leave nicely, like a good girl, and talk to me.”

“What’s there to tell Munson?” You chastise, standing up so you’re practically nose to nose with him, egging him on with the smell of your perfume and the sheen of your lipgloss, those lips alone would kill him, “the begging part, or the part where you were whining?” A devilish smile seeps across your lips and spreads like wild fire, avoiding your eyes as you stare him down, the lunch table erupts with oo’s as Eddie yanks you hard by hand away from the lunch table. The squeak of his boots and the click of your flats echo throughout the cafeteria as he pulls you out the back door. “Let go, Eddie!” You’re slapping at his arms as you try to wiggle from his grip.

“I just— I need to know, ” he hisses, once you made your way to the worn down picnic table that he used for making his deals in the woods, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The coals of his eyes still raking over your body like fire.

“What are you talking about Eddie?” you smirk, the facade of taking the upper hand still playing safe across your lips.

“Jesus H Christ, I do not understand you! One minute you’re all over me sucking my dick and the next you’re shoving me out of your door and moving on to Jeff. What the fuck?!”

“Oh kiss my ass,” you huff, rolling your eyes and breathing out, “it hurts doesn’t it?” you provoke, prodding his nerves with the lick of the words on your tongue, “..being teased.”

“What?” Eddie exaggerates the syllables of the short word, voice raspy as he continues, “I never teased you, baby.”

He didn’t get it, and he wouldn’t unless you had explained it to him from your point of view, but this wasn’t a subject to be learned in school, no— this was a lesson to be taught by the hard truth of reality, and two very stubborn people.

“Sit down,” you demand, pointing to the picnic bench, “now.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie stammers, looking dumbfounded. You roll your eyes and drag him by his vest, fingers clutching around the sun faded denim, nails scratching a Megadeth patch, and shove him down hard on the bench, the picnic table groans at the force of his body being dropped down onto it.

He leans back on the picnic bench, man spreading and his elbows resting on the table behind him, eyes dripping with desire as you approach him, “What d’ya think big boy?” You croon, undoing the buttons on your top and shimming it down your arms as you face away from him, turning to reveal the pink lacy bra he had been daydreaming about since Biology, “think you need some relief?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, the desire and hunger pitted deep inside, angry from being forced down again, “h-here? Like right now?” You nod slowly as you walk towards him, one slow tantalizing step at a time, your shirt thrown to the autumn foiled ground.

“Is that what you want? Hmm? Want me to put that big fucking cock in my mouth?”

“Yes— please oh my god, baby I am— I need it.” Eddie whines, shutting his eyes and putting his hands together in a silent prayer, as if this mother fucker has ever stepped foot in a church aside from the day he was baptized.

“Beg.” Groaning, as you put your hands on either side of him on the bench, licking the slope of his neck and blowing on it gently, Eddie lets out a guttural moan, pistoning his hips up as you bite his neck. “I want you to beg for me to touch you.”

“Babe, I swear—please, I’ll do anything! Anything at all! Please it—it hurts.” He whines. You continue kissing his neck, deepening the marks with bites until his neck is purple. Branding him as yours, painting him as your weak begging soul desperate for your touch. He’s falling apart at the seams, moaning so loud a local hunter swore to friends later at the Hideout that it was an injured 6 point buck, finding out later it just was two horny high schoolers. He’s shaking beneath you, as you straddle his slim waist, digging your knees into his hips as you slot your pussy against his bulging jeans. His long hair tangled against the peeling paint and splintered top of the picnic table as his head was thrown back in pleasure.

The pace you’re setting is torturous, damning him to all seven circles of your teasing hell as your tongue paints his neck, hips grating against him riding him slow and hard. Your tits are pushed up against his Judas Priest shirt, nipples perky and pointed from the cold, cutting into his burning skin.

“Oh princess, oh fuck—I’m gonna c—”

“No you aren’t.” You immediately remove yourself from his lap, standing abruptly and swiping your saliva from the corner of your mouth.

“No, please I can’t— please don’t do this to me.” He’s whining again, face full of anguish as you giggle at his discretion.

You smirk, “don’t do what Eddie? I’m just making you feel good.” Blinking at him with full lashes and innocence dripping from your eyes.

He’s panting as if he just ran a mile, sweat is pouring down his back the same way it was last night. He’s tired and slowly losing his mind watching your tits bounce wildly in your pink lacy bra as you back away from him.

“Bullshit, you know what you’re doing— don’t tea—“

“Tease you?” you offer, crawling towards him on all fours. The sultry way your body is moving has him gasping for air, tits squished together as you crawl to him, a glass of water in the desert to a lost soul isn’t needed as much as he needs you right now. You sit on your knees in front of him, stretching out your back and letting your hair flow behind you, arms tucked at the back of your neck to showcase your curves, a wonderland of soft skin and peaks and valleys in the dips of your body. Your feet are tucked underneath you— the squish and rustle of leaves dance around you as you adjust yourself. His knees are bouncing with anticipation, his face is torn with want and a pleading wrinkle between his brows. You rub his thighs up towards his slutty waist and scratch the dark denim with your nails on the way down to his knee caps. You lay your head against his knee, one hand stretched lazily against his inner thigh, writing your name with your nail against the denim, ending with a heart right by his overly full sack. “Oh baby, I’ve only just begun.”

Eddie has never been more excited and elated to hear the sound of a zipper coming undone, brass teeth disconnecting to spread open to a blue pair of checkered boxers, his aching, ruddy cock one step closer to your mouth or even your hand, he’d take either at this point as long as you touched him, finally releasing his pent up anger, almost 16 hours worth of blue balls able to let go to the heavens. He swears he’d take up bible study just to have your touch on his dick.

“My, my… what have we here?” you seduce as you admire his length, pressing the fabric of his boxers around his dick to outline it with your finger as you drag your nail along it, a paint brush sweeping and defining a fossil from eons ago, you keep this up any longer and Eddie will be a fossil, a visual aid skeleton to scare kids away from using recreational drugs.

He hissed through his teeth, a sticky pool of cold pre cum dotted his boxers right where the tip sat. “Please baby, please.” Eddie prays, begging, pleading.

“Mmm more begging,” you announce as you slowly lower the waistband of his boxers, revealing the thatch of curls around his pretty cock. Your eyes dart to his, he looks delirious, miserable and almost sad, it turns you on, fuels your fire to see him like this. “Makes me wet just hearing how pathetic you get.” Licking your lips you ease out his girthy cock, tears spill from Eddie’s eyes at the contact of your hand around him.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting his head lull back and his eyes roll into his skull, all the colors of the rainbow dance and crowd his vision with white blurs as he tries to steady his breathing. “Oh Jesus, mmm.”

You stretch your fingers around him, lightly tugging along his length and pressing your plump lips to his reddened aching head. You swirl your tongue around it, soothing the pressure built up and tasting the last bits of precum on your tongue.

“M-more, please, mm fuck,” Eddie’s shortened nails are scratching at the bench beneath him, eight scratches clawing through decades old weathered wood decayed from abandonment and abuse of stoners fucking in the small enclosure of high trees and thick brush. This was, however, Eddie’s first time having a sexual experience out here, he had thought about it many times. A faceless girl with your body and voice bouncing on top of him as he lay flat on the top of the picnic table.

Your mouth skates down his shaft and your lips curl against the thick vein running underneath of his cock, slotting it between your lips as your tongue slips out to taste it. As much as you loved teasing him, Eddie was very well endowed. The biggest dick you’ve had the pleasure of wrapping your lips around, and he was gorgeous. “Y’ like this? Watching my pretty little mouth rubbing on your cock?”

“Y-yes, oh shit—” he moans, he’s a fucking mess, writhing beneath you and you haven’t even fully sucked him off yet, “‘m gonna fuckin explode, need more please, please I swear I won’t tease you anymore.” He lifts his hips from the bench to drive more contact into you, but you pull away, and he whines, chest heaving with a pout as you chuckle.

“Fuck you’re needy.” You taunt as you lick a broad stripe from his balls to the tip, spitting generously when you get to the top, and paint it down his length with your hands, he sucks in a breath as you pump him. His begging continues, and you’re trying hard not to laugh at the shit he is spewing from that gorgeous mouth if his. You’re almost certain he promised you the keys to his van when you finally have enough of his whining and dive in. Opening wide and immediately hollowing your cheeks as you suck him deep into your throat, tongue sitting pretty against his balls as you lick them and breathe through your nose.

The noise Eddie makes resembles a hallelujah chorus. Stars are spinning and falling from the galaxy around him. Hell could open at this very moment and Eddie wouldn’t bat an eye. He has never felt anything better than your mouth— wet, hot, deliciously soft and ooey gooey like a ban of under-baked brownies. Better than his first time getting high at 14 and one hundred times better than his own hand or any other filthy whore he had been with, looking for a discount on his famously rolled joints.

This is heaven, the pearly gates are staring him in the face and rolling their metaphorical tongue along his cock, wrapping him in a hug of cotton candy clouds and sugar coated spit, sucking his soul straight through his dick and selfishly keeping it.

You pull back, feeling all of his girthy length extract from you, dragging against your throat slowly and releasing him with a pop. Your hands replace your mouth and jerk him in twisting motions as your mouth suctions along his tip, tongue swirling and twirling around his reddened head as he moans with pleasure, muscles completely relaxed, melting into the picnic table.

He’s babbling incoherently as his hands find purchase on your hair, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. A gentle reminder of how sweet this needy man child is. You pump him slow, as your mouth works around his girth, slurping and massaging his dick.

His breathing speeds up and you know he’s close. He tries to hide it, pushing down his excitement but keeping his face trained on you so he can finally get the release he so desperately craves.

But you can read him like a book.

And you aren’t done with him yet. You pull away from him just as his dick starts to twitch.

Your panties are dripping, seeing this sexy ass man whimper and beg for you to touch him is hotter than you could imagine.

“No!” He whines, “ No no no no no pleeease —please! I’m begging— I’m going to— fuck! I’m dying. I need you. Please please!” Another tear rolls down his cheek at the empty lonely feeling around his cock, the cool air stinging at his wet length.

“Ah ah ah,” you tut, wagging a finger towards him in a windshield wiper motion, “you’ll cum when I say you can.” You stand and throw a leg over his lap facing him straddling his lap again. Hiking up your skirt and letting your dripping clothed cunt slide around his cock you grab his hands and place them on your tits as you grind down onto him, throwing your head back, Eddie kisses your neck, sucking a bruise into it as you twirl his curls through your fingers. You moan out into the void of the orange and red lined trees, birds taking flight abandoning their posts as you both grind against each other.

“F-fuck baby,” Eddie groans against the heat of your neck, “you’re so fucking wet.” Pulling your head back you look at him, the facade you had been carrying all day breaking away as you start to slip. Your belly burns with a knot that’s unraveling—one that Eddie tied inside of you all those weeks ago. His lips are slick from his own spit, curls are swaying and bouncing as you move against each other, on the same page for the first time. Fuck he’s so hot. He holds your hips and grinds you down onto him harder, your clit brushing against the friction of your panties and his thick cock has you speechless.

You're both needy for each other now. You kiss him, hot and deep, all tongue and plump lips. All this teasing and you had never felt his lips on yours. They’re softer than you imagined, he tastes like cheap cigarettes and 10¢ fruity flavored gum from the gas station sold in packs of five sticks. He twists your nipples and holds you by the curve of your neck where it meets under your chin, driving his hips harder against you. “Eddie,” you moan into his mouth, tongue dragging along his delicious lips, sucking the spot where his cigarette always hangs loosely from, the taste of nicotine biting your tongue, “m gonna— fuck— I’m gonna cum.”

He licks into your open mouth, as you close your eyes and lean your head back, “I know baby,” he reaches down and rubs your clit with his thumb, “cum for me, I’m right b-behind you.” The pressure of his thick fingers and girthy cock on your pussy builds and the knot unravels. You moan louder than you ever had, holding onto Eddie’s shoulders so you don’t convulse off of him. He comes too, holding you tight to his body as warm spurts of his cum shoot against your pussy, painting your skin and panties creamy white as he finally releases his pent up 16 hour hell. Every curse word is rolling from his tongue as more tears stream down his face. He’s a free man, no longer bound to his own body, his balls finally drained and definitely lighter. He’s exhausted, he’s been awake for too damn long, mind sick with worry and regret, dick aching from the boner he had for the better half of an entire day. A bruise sets in his back from all the commotion against the picnic table, one he’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

He presses kisses into your shoulder as you lay lazily against him. Breath ragged in his ear, sweat shined foreheads and cramping muscles. Knees scratched up and bleeding from the roughness of the bench. Your blood mixed with his nail scratches on the bench, a permanent testament to the best orgasms you had both ever received— in this life and future ones yet unlived.

“By the way,” Eddie finally speaks, after endless moments stroking your back with his eyes closed breathing you in, “I only teased you because I like you, like a lot.” His admission lifted the sag from his shoulders and floated high above him.

“Well since we’re admitting things,” you voice barely above a whisper, your eyes dancing in slits as your finger traces the letters printed on his shirt, “I only joined Hellfire to be around you.”

“Oh that’s not a secret sweetheart, you’re really fucking bad at it.” he teases, tickling your sides.

You squirm under his grip, slapping his arms to get him to stop. “Knock it off Munson or I’ll quit for real!”

Eddie pulls you away from him with mock surprise, “You wouldn’t.”

“Have you learned nothing from this?” You ask, booping him on the nose, “the lengths of petty I will go to, are no match for you, Munson.”

“Clearly,” Eddie spits, “you’re a deranged brat, I wanted to spank you during lunch after watching you feed Jeff like a baby.”

Your eyebrows pull into a quirk,, “I’m real simple to understand babe,” you explain, kissing Eddie’s neck, “don’t fuck with me or in your case, maybe just fuck me.”

“Mmm, can I take you out after Hellfire tomorrow?” Eddie asks, grinning from ear to ear.

You suck a breath through your teeth, pulling back to look at Eddie, “I don’t know, I think I have a date with Jeff..”

“Oh fuck you,” he replies, rolling his eyes with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

You pry his arms away from himself and lick a stripe from his collar to his ear, biting his lobe and whispering, “When and where, big boy?”

Taglist: @sweetsweetjellybean @alanamarie @word-wytch

[specialagentlokitty]

Reid x Male!reader - protect you

I was wondering if I could request Spencer Reid x Male reader who's like a father figure to Spencer and on a case reader and Spencer get caught by the Unsub and reader keeps the Unsub busy so Spencer can get out and get to the team (reader's goal being to protect Spencer from harm even if it meant sacrificing himself in the process) Maybe the Unsub is furious after they realize Spencer is gone and take their anger out on reader. Maybe by the time the team find them reader is alive but just barely? Really want a dad moment between Spencer and Reader at the end, reader comforting Spencer and maybe a hug? @xweirdo101x 💜

You were protective of your team, everybody knew that, but nothing like you were with Spencer.

He was so young, and so sweet, and he deserved the world, a man whom he could look up to as a father figure.

And you became that man.

So when you heard that Spencer had been taking you were furious beyond belief but you kept your composer as you went to confront the unsub.

“Can you tell me more about what horror books you have?” You asked.

“Of course, is there anything specific?”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“No, just looking for new recommendations is all.”

“Well, let me see what I have and I’ll be right back with you.”

You nodded, watching as the unsub left, you jumped over the counter, slowly twisting the handle to the door.

Opening it partially, you reached into your pocket, taking out a small tin and slid it across the room before closing the door and going back to where you were stood.

You pretended to be busy reading a flyer that was left on the counter.

“Well, I would have to recommend these three.”

He set a few books on the counter, turning them around to show you the covers.

You asked some questions about them all before asking him to show you to the horror section.

You kept him busy for as long as possible, which was more than enough time for Spencer to get out of the room with the tools you had given him.

The unsub excused himself and you began to leave the shop, only to be hit around the back of your head.

“I should have known!”

You weren’t given a chance to get back up or fight back.

As he ran Spencer thought that you were right behind him, but as he ran around the corner to the team, he realised you weren’t.

“Where is he?!” Rossi rushed out.

“He.. I thought..”

Spencer was quickly passed over to paramedics and the team rushed to your aid.

The burst into the shop to find you on the floor bleeding heavily, unconscious, and the unsub above you screaming and yelling.

They quickly dealt with the unsub, and you were immediately rushed to hospital before anybody could even get a glance at you.

“Where is he?!” Spencer yelled.

Emily planted a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down into the SUV.

“He’s okay, he’s fine. He’s going to hospital now.”

Spencer looked at her with tears in his eyes.

“Please..”

She nodded, knowing exactly what the younger agent was waiting for.

They all rushed to the hospital to try get any news of you, but they were told to wait while doctor looked you over.

All Spencer could do was sit in one of the horrible seats, leg bouncing as he tried to keep himself together but he couldn’t.

“(Y/N) will be okay.” Rossi said gently.

“You don’t know that…”

“But we do, he was awake when we found him, and he was immediately rushed here.” JJ said.

He knew they were trying to make him feel better, but it wasn’t working, because he blamed himself.

You put yourself in danger for him.

Put your life on the line to make sure he got out okay, and he blamed himself.

The doctor came over, and they all stood up.

“He’ll be alright, but I’d like to keep him a few days until the bruising and swelling goes down.”

“Can we see him?” Hotch asked.

“Of course yes.”

The doctor led the way to the room but while everybody else went inside, Spencer couldn’t bring himself to see you.

Even despite the team begging him to just go talk to you, see you, he couldn’t.

The entire time you were in the hospital he couldn’t see you.

When you got out, he did what he could to avoid you, but he wasn’t expecting you to come back to work earlier than you were supposed to.

“Reid, a word please.” You said.

He sighed softly, following you up to the conference room.

He didn’t want to, but who was he to tell a superior agent no? He had to right refusing a request from someone above him in rank.

She he let you guide him into the room, closing the doors and blinds before you turned the lights on, turning to look at him.

Immediately he turned his head down.

“It’s not as bad as it looks you know.” You said.

“Does it hurt..?”

You hummed a little, sitting on the table.

“Slightly, but that’s normal.”

You studied him for a moment before sighing heavily.

“Stop blaming yourself Spencer it wasn’t your fault.”

“You did it to help me…”

“And I would do it again, I would much prefer to know that I was hurt because I managed to get you out of a dangerous situation. I would do it again if I had to.”

“You could have died…”

“So could’ve you. Listen to me Spencer, I have absolutely no regrets for getting you out of that situation. You have been through more than you fair share of pain.”

Spencer shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved…”

You sighed slightly.

“Spencer I will keep getting involved. I don’t care if it means putting myself in danger to make sure you’re okay.”

He began to tear up a little bit.

“I don’t want you to leave me…”

You knew what he was referring to, when Emily had left, and you stood up.

Walking over, you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“When I agreed to become your mentor I agreed to protect you Spencer, to keep you safe from harm, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

He reached out, pulling you into a hug, and you smiled slightly, hugging him back.

“Please don’t leave me..”

“I’m not going anywhere buddy.”

He sniffled and nodded his head.

You gently pat his back, knowing he found the motion relaxing, and you let him quietly cry into your shoulder.

It wasn’t often he let himself breakdown, but he trusted you, and he knew you cared for him.

“Do you want to come stay with me for a few days Spencer?”

He nodded his head.

“Alright, come on we’ll get everything sorted for you.”

Spencer stood and you wiped his tears with your sleeves.

“You’re alright bud.” You said softly.

He took a deep breath.

“I’m proud of you.”

He smiled a little.

“Thank you..”

Spencer watched you leave a he smiled a little to himself.

If his father was half the man you were maybe he would be a different man, but he was glad to half a father figure like you supporting him

[pushing500]

✨Gracie's Rimworld Modlist✨

(For the Mechanitor's Message run)

Here are all my current mods in order. Once again it’s all hand-typed because I am a bit rubbish at computer stuff and don’t know how to export modlists. Enjoy!! xoxo

Prepatcher (required for one or more of the other mods to work)

Harmony (I think this is just for performance)

Vanilla Backgrounds Expanded (this is just cool for loading screens etc.)

[CAT] Show Hair With Hats or Hide All Hats (so my colonists can show off their beautiful hair)

HugsLib (I think this is just for performance)

Camera + (better for taking screenshots)

Character Editor (so I can start with customised colonists)

Vanilla Expanded Framework (so all the Vanilla Expanded mods work)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Props and Decor (adds fancy props and decor)

Geological Landforms (for fun map generation)

Pathfinding Framework (a framework for pathfinding)

ANDH - Animal Nuzzling Detects Horrors (animals can detect metalhorrors when they nuzzle your colonists)

[GMT] Trading Spot (those darn traders always track dirt on my floors)

[KV] Impassable Map Maker (in case I feel like settling on an impassable tile)

[NL] Facial Animation - WIP (they look so cute with their lil’ faces!!)

[SBV] Recreational Drum Use (drum go bang boom, brain get happy)

[T] Moor Floors 1.4 (more floors)

[XND] Proper Shotguns (Continued) (makes shotguns work better so Security Chief Ratchet and Deputy Rocket the militors can be extra kickass)

Llama's Proper Shotgun Patches (some patches for the previous mod)

Adjustable Archonexus Quest Continued (no way Mechi is losing all his research!)

A Dog Said… Animal Prosthetics (animal bionics wooo)

Dubs Bad Hygiene (bathrooms cool)

Allow Tool (makes life so much easier)

Biomes! Core (framework for Biomes! mods)

Biomes! Fossils (dinosaur museum go brrrr)

Biomes! Islands (tropical paradise, here we come!)

Allies are Helpful (so that our friends, few as they may be, will actually be useful)

Alpha Biomes (adds cool new biomes)

Alpha Memes (new ideology memes)

Alpha Mythology (adds cool new mythological animals)

Alpha Prefabs (cool prefabricated buildings)

Alpha Props - Parks and Gardens (adds props for parks and gardens)

Anima Animals Combined (Continued) (cool anima animals)

Animal Controls (animals can have food restrictions, etc.)

Better Mods Mismatch Window (to see which of my mods is fucked up THIS time 🙄)

Biome Transitions (so your biomes transition)

Childhood Backstories (so your children can have backstories)

Clocks (every house needs a grandfather clock)

Colors (personally I prefer “colours”, but we can’t all be right)

Det’s Xenotypes - Avaloi (colourful drunk coral-people!!)

Det’s Xenotypes - Bogleg (alien mafia)

Doors Expanded (expands on the doors)

Dormitories (Not Barracks) (they shouldn’t be that upset about sharing a room)

Dress Patients (Continued) (put clothes on the patients)

Enhanced Beliefs (expands on the ideology system a bit)

Erin’s Baldur’s Gate 3 Hairs (need more hair)

Erin’s Cottage Collection (cutesy furniture)

Erin’s Decorations (cute decorations)

Erin’s Hairstyles - Redux (mmmmmore hair!!)

Extra Alerts (handy-dandy extra popups)

Floordrawings (those kids are so artistic)

GloomyFurniture (cutsey furniture)

Gloomy Furniture Fix (fixes something idk)

Gradient Hair (gradient hair)

Hard Times: Hair and Beards (more hair and beard styles)

Haul to Stack (you think they could figure that out themselves, but no. They need a mod)

Hospitality (warcrime-themed hotel chain let’s goooo)

Human Butchery 2.0 (just in case)

Human Leather Floor (👀)

Interaction Bubbles (to see what dey sayin’)

Kinky Bodystrap (I will not elaborate)

Lights Out (conserve electricity, save the planet)

Megafauna (biiiig pets)

Minify Everything (if I wanna carry a whole wall I damn well will)

More Descriptive Words and Names (exactly what it says on the tin)

More Faction Interaction (Continued) (more faction interaction)

More Persona Traits (to make Persona Weapons more interesting)

More Religious Origins (adds some more religious origins for ideology)

More Thrumbos (Continued) (mmmmore thrumbos)

More Vanilla Biomes (more vanilla biomes)

negative traits (they can’t all be good)

Non-Binary Gender (adds a non-binary option)

Offworlders - The Biliog (swamp people)

Optimization: Meats - C# Edition (all meat is raw meat)

Pawn Name Variety (variety in pawn names)

Pick Up and Haul (pick it up and haul it)

Prisoners Don’t Have Keys (why would they??)

Random Research (it looked amusing)

Reel’s Facial Animation Textures (face stuff)

Replace Stuff (to build walls on top of other walls etc.)

RimPy Mod Manager Database (just for insurance)

Rimsenal - Hair pack (hair)

Rimsenal Hair Retextured (more hair stuff)

RimTraits - General Traits (more traits)

River’s Tribal Shoes (tribal shoes)

Romance on the Rim (awww, so romantic <3)

Roo’s HD Dreadlock Hairstyles (dreads)

Roo’s HD Glasses Hairstyles (glasses)

Roo’s HD Hairstyles (hairy)

Roo’s HD Royalty Hairstyles (fancy hair)

RPG Style Inventory Revamped (inventory is easier to use)

RT Fuse (I don’t like zzzt events)

Sand Castles (for funsies)

Simple sidearms (always be prepared!)

Smutty Fanfiction (👀)

Snap Out! (for mental breaks)

Standalone Hot Spring (why have geothermal power when you can have a nice hot bath instead?)

Stylized Slave Collars and Headgear (to fit the theme)

The Vanity Project - Beards (more beards)

The Vanity Project - Female Hair (for the gals)

The Vanity Project - Male Hair (for the guys)

Trait and Backstory Icons (icons for traits and backstories)

Toddlers (smol bean people)

Upscaled - Won hair_men (hair)

Upscaled - Won hair_women (hair)

Vanilla Achievements Expanded (makes me feel successful)

Vanilla Animals Expanded (adds fun new animals)

Vanilla Animals Expanded - Endangered (adds endangered animals)

Vanilla Animals Expanded - Royal Animals (adds fancy animals)

Vanilla Animals Expanded - Waste Animals (edgy dystopian animals)

Vanilla Apparel Expanded (new clothes)

Vanilla Apparel Expanded - Accessories (new accessories)

Vanilla Armour Expanded (more armour)

Vanilla Backstories Expanded (more backstories)

Vanilla Brewing Expanded (alcohol woooo)

Vanilla Base Generation Expanded (generates cool bases)

Vanilla Brewing Expanded - Coffee and Tea (to feed our caffeine addiction)

Vanilla Cooking Expanded (fun food)

Vanilla Cooking Expanded - Stews (everybody loves a good stew)

Vanilla Fishing Expanded (such a relaxing pastime)

Vanilla Fishing Expanded - Fishing Treasures AddOn (you can fish up cool stuff, like wood)

Vanilla Cooking Expanded - Sushi (we have to do something with all those fish)

Vanilla Events Expanded (can never have too many events)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Ancients (scary ancient people)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Empire (makes the empire more interesting)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Mechanoids (we couldn’t have a mechanitor run without them)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Settlers (yeehaw)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Tribal (I like having tribal friends)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded (more furniture)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Architect Module (new structure stuff)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Art Module (fancy art and decorations to make)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Farming (we love growing food)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Medical Module (to make the most kickass hospital)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Power (mechanitor has to power their mechs somehow)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Production (cool manufacturing stuff)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Security (you can never be too careful)

Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Spacer Module (a mechanitor’s dream)

Vanilla Hair Expanded (always need more hair)

Vanilla Hair Retextured (make it look snazzy)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Dryads (for sprucing up gauranlen tree stuff)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Hats and Rags (to dress properly)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Icons and Symbols (to customise ideologies as much as possible)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Relics and Artifacts (cube…?)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Sophian Style (fancy~)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Splits and Schisms (reminds me of Wookshys)

Vanilla Nutrient Paste Expanded (hell yeah nutrient paste)

Vanilla Outposts Expanded (we can form outposts if we like)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Android (it would be cool to have androids hanging out with our mechanitor…)

ReGrowth: Core (I like the retextures)

ReGrowth: Tropical (more fun stuff)

Vanilla Plants Expanded (yummy foodstuffs)

Tilled Soil (heehoo farm)

Vanilla Persona Weapons Expanded (make the persona weapons more personable)

Vanilla Plants Expanded - More Plants (even MORE farm)

Vanilla Plants Expanded - Mushrooms (I should do a dirtmole colony someday)

Vanilla Plants Expanded - Succulents (they’re cute)

Vanilla Psycasts Expanded (I love ‘em)

Alpha Animals (one of my favourite mods)

Vanilla Genetics Expanded (genetics stuff)

Vanilla Genetics Expanded - More Lab Stuff (more lab stuff)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Memes and Structures (more customisation)

Alpha Genes (Makes for fun people to draw)

Alpha Mechs (Mechs for the Mechanitor!! Skulls for the- oh, wait, no)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Archon (basically githyanki)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Custom Icons (to make your own xenotypes that much more distinct)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Fungoid (zombies go brrrr)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Genie (how many wishes do I get?)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Highmate (the perfect partner!)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Hussar (nobody will ever be as good as Henry…)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Lycanthrope (do we need a werewolf boyfriend?🍍)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Phytokin (tree people my beloved)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Pigskin (is there a teacup pig variant?)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Sanguophage (vampires go brrrr)

Vanilla Races Expanded - Saurid (lizard people to control the government)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Waster (pollution people)

Facial Animations Xenotype Compatibility (to help smooth out the face stuff)

Vanilla Skills Expanded (makes learning more interesting)

Vanilla Skin Tone Genes (inheritable skin tones)

Vanilla Social Interactions Expanded (more interactions to draw)

Vanilla Textures Expanded (expands the vanilla textures)

Vanilla Textures Expanded - [NL] Facial Animation (makes the facial animation more vanilla and less anime)

Vanilla Textures Expanded - Variations (so things don’t look too same-y)

Vanilla Ideology Expanded - Anima Theme (for funsies)

Vanilla Trading Expanded (expands the trading)

Vanilla Traits Expanded (more traits!)

[DN] Bundle of Traits (one of my favourite trait mods <3)

Vehicle Framework (a framework for vehicles)

Vanilla Vehicles Expanded (more vehicles)

Vanilla Vehicles Expanded - Tier 3 (even MORE vehicles)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded (to spice up the combat)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Coilguns (adds coilguns)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Grenades (expands on grenades)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Heavy Weapons (more heavy weapons)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Laser (laser weapons)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Makeshift (for when you gotta make do)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Non-Lethal (for interrogations and organ harvesting)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Quickdraw (to draw quickly)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Frontier (yeehaw)

Vanilla Weapons Expanded - Tribal (they deserve some variety too)

Vanilla Factions Expanded - Pirates (arrr me hearties!)

VPG Garden Resources (if I wanna grow uranium I will)

Vanilla Psycasts Expanded - Puppeteer (mind control, oooh!)

VVE - Deconstructable Vehicle Junk (so we can make old cars new!)

War Crimes Expanded 2 Core (Updated) (just in case)

What's That Mod (so I know what the mod is)

While You’re Up (PUAH) (more hauling revamps)

Won Hair Men Retextured (hairy hairy)

Won Hair Women Retextured (more hairy hairy)

Xeva’s Rimhair (hair)

Xeva’s Rimhair Retextured (hair)

Yet Another Hair Mod (I don't have too many, shhhh!)

ATH ‘s Retexture Female Apparel (looks like fun to draw!)

ATH’s Style Female Dresses (fun to draw)

HousekeeperAssistanceCat (the best mod)

[FSF] Complex Jobs (Legacy Version) (makes job prioritizing easier)

[lana-maeve-occasionally-reads]

pinned post 3.0

hiyaa i’m lana

welcome to my diary

pronouns are they/she

15 so don’t be a creep

sagittarius ♐️

Intp

textbook bisexual disaster

dms are always open xx

books/movies/tv shows/music/musicals/anything else that i yap about

music - i don’t shut up about taylor swift ever

other artists i can talk ab for hours include : louis tomlinson, harry styles, gracie abrams, sabrina carpenter, bears in trees, maisie peters, abba, fleetwood mac, one direction, the 1975, boygenius, chappell roan, conan gray, olivia rodrigo, david bowie, girl in red, lizzy mcalpine, lucy dacus

fav books - (bc contrary to popular belief i do actually read occasionally)

chronicles of narnia (specifically prince caspian), the hobbit, lord of the rings, the picture of dorian gray, murder on the orient express, great gatsby, the odyssey, literally any shakespeare (except romeo and juliet), little women

and also modern books (woahhh)

the cats we meet along the way, better than the movies, six times we almost kissed, ophelia after all, tremendous things, the last duchess, pjo and hoo, hunger games

tv shows - our flag means death, ghosts, the witch finder, brooklyn 99, parks and rec, superstore, alexa and katie, she ra, the owl house, gravity falls, heartstopper, community, bridgerton, strawberry shortcake (2009)

movies - my letterboxd that i rarely use

i dont really watch movies (other than mamma mia which i watch once a week)

musicals - into the woods, hadestown, hamilton, legally blonde, mamma mia, the lightning thief musical, wicked, waitress, six, mean girls the musical, matilda, heathers, be more chill, dear evan hansen

the extras - the life series, hermitcraft, empires, marauders, random people i get obsessed with

and also i just waffle about my life

linksss - main insta, spotify, spam insta, pinterest

the irls

@ghostyentity - my wonderful beautiful amazing boyfriend who i love very very much

@sage-and-onion - my best friend ever ever, the most regulus black to ever regulus black, the most lovely person ever really (when they aren’t bullying me), i would die without them

@mrmittensworld - he’s just a guy

@salsaxdip - very very wonderful

mutualssss (you should check all of them out they’re all wonderful and i love them more than i can say)

@aesthetic-writer18 - raineeeee, ilysm you are so incredible and kind and lovely and such a wonderful friend, my twin fr (everyone go read their writing it’s amazing)

@cressthebest - actually one of the best people i’ve met ever, so very kind and lovely

@vintagetee13 - the sweetest person ever, ilysm

@lienspien - ik we don’t really talk anymore but i still think you’re wonderful and you are so supportive and you deserve the world

@sleepinginmygrave - so very lovely and wonderful

@drop-cherries - very very lovely person

@moutainrusing - such a great person to talk to

@mutateddinonugget - so wonderful, ily

@lilithisrunningwithscissors - the most supportive person ever

@t1oui - my other twin who i love very much even tho they stole my swag

@thelyricthepoetthedreamer - absofruitly super duper

@nothing-but-glitter-and-lashes - so lovely and amazing

@marylily-my-beloved - the sweetest of the sweetest people

@romanceisntdead21 - i would kill for sara

@chaserofstars11 - very very cool person with very coolio vibes

my tags

lana yaps- all my original posts and as it says, it’s just my yapping, most of what i say is nonsense

lana vents - uhm yeah basically what it says on the tin, quite often i am being dramatic ab stuff but this is my main place to do that ig and being over dramatic about it helps me process it, sometimes i may forget to put tws, but i sometimes talk ab topics like suicide, sexual assault and death

lana’s fantasy world - so i have a story i’ve kinda been writing/ a world i’ve been creating and i haven’t really shared a lot of it but i’ve been working on it for like 5 years and maybe one day i shall post more about it

lana writes poems - very rarely i get poetic on here (idk if other people think it’s poetry but whatever)

lana is in love - i post ab my bf a lot basically

userboxes

dividers by @saradika-graphics