#but the search engines have do so shit lately

[forestkodama]

the burning urge to create and fix and build whilst in the middle of a move when all supplies and solutions are packed away in a different part of the world leaving you with packing or cleaning as the only options for channeling this energy

[foone]

Your posts are in an AI model

and then Tumblr decided to sell them to AI models.

Now, don't get me wrong, tumblr selling out the users to AI companies is bad, yes, they shouldn't do that. It sucks.

but don't lets get this confused: your posts were already in there. Tumblr selling them is about tumblr making some money and about the AI models having more exhaustive post collections. It's not about your posts being in an AI model, vs not being in one. That battle has already been lost.

Can you find your post on google? Then it's almost certainly in an AI model already. Think about it: These AI sites showed up before all the sites were making deals to sell their users' content, right? How do you think they built them in the first place?

They scraped the posts. Just like google and bing and such do when they build their search indexes.

It's a fundamental part of how the open web works: you want your posts on tumblr to be visible to users, right? You want them to be readable?* Like, look how much stuff broke when twitter changed their whole read-while-not-logged-in policy, ruining a bunch of thread links/NSFW links. And if it's visible, it's scrapable. That's what the AI models were built on.

I've done website scraping before (not for AI models, of course. I was doing search engines and website archival), this is just how it works. You hire a few relatively smart CS graduates and tell them "build me a scraper that'll give us a bunch of tumblr posts" and they go off for a month or two and come back with a database of a few billion posts, and you stuff that into your AI model. That's how they got all the deviantart and flickr and twitter and pinterest and so on posts. They didn't pay for them: they just took them.

They only ever pay for this shit because either:

they fucked up in such a way that the site might be able to sue them for taking rather than paying

They can buy them cheaper than they can finish taking them. Maybe they'd need to pay the CS grads for an extra month? well, that might be more expensive than just throwing the site a couple hundred thousand bucks.

ANYWAY: my point is, don't treat this "oh no tumblr is selling our posts to AI" like it's a big thing that might happen and it would be bad to happen. Yes, it's bad, tumblr shouldn't do this, this'll let AI models get continual updates of content for far easier than just scraping them would be, tumblr betrayed user trust, and so on...

but realistically, this is not a black and white matter of "if only tumblr didn't do this, then we'd be safe from AI models!"

Nope. We already lost that battle. I'm sorry, and it does suck, but that's just how it is. The avalanche has already started, it's too late for the pebbles to vote. * I'm assuming here that you don't run a private blog that's set to only followers or something. You'd be safer then, of course, but you're not really my target audience for this rant

[factcheckingmclennon]

harry nilsson quotes double feature: fact or fiction?

"Someone told me a few minutes ago they saw John walking on the street [once] wearing a sign saying – a button, rather, saying 'I Love Paul'. And this girl who told me that said she asked him, 'Why are you wearing the button that says ‘I Love Paul’?' He said, 'Because I love Paul.'" -Harry Nilsson

"I'm just like everybody else, Harry, I fell for Paul's looks." Harry Nilsson (on John)

these quotes get passed around unsourced, or wrongly sourced, constantly. so...

are these harry nilsson quotes about john lennon real?

shockingly, after getting an anon correction on the first one and then discovering myself on the second one through the world's most random search engine imaginable bc SOMETHING felt unfinished...... the final verdict for both?

...ish? the second one is sort of neutral bc it's taken a bit out of context but i'll get to that

let's get into it, because this one took me on a journey!

(and btw the sources on these were SUCH a pain in the ass to find due to lack of sourcing & wrong sourcing so i am on my hands and knees for these to get passed around w the proper sources now that they're in one place bc they're so good)

first of all, these quotes keep getting mixed up and messed around with different wording. which was my first road block on finding a proper source. second of all, they have been wrongly attributed to a) one single interview together and/or b) a rolling stone interview with nilsson. this made things aggravating. but in the end, an anon sent me the audio for the first quote and for the second one i FINALLY found someone a looong while back actually naming the book it's in & successfully found it!

made a post earlier concluding both were fake, but we just had to go a little deeper folks.

anyway, onto the good shit

who was harry nilsson? he was a friend of john's, specifically during his 1974 lost weekend era. they lived together for a while (along with others, including ringo!) and were pretty close.

"because i love paul"

this one gets misquoted the Most honestly like you'll find a bunch of different variations of it, but you can find it in a 1984 interview with geoffrey giuliano as such:

GIULIANO: Did he miss the Beatles? Was he mournful about what happened, over the, you know—? HARRY: Someone told me a few minutes ago they saw John walking on the street [once] wearing a sign saying – a button, rather, saying ‘I Love Paul’. And this girl who told me that said she asked him, “Why are you wearing the button that says ‘I Love Paul’?” He said, “Because I love Paul.” [laughs]  

(source) (and again, it's a tumblr blog, but given that it's audio, i'm marking it trustworthy. i just uploaded it to archive.org in case it ever gets deleted)

"i fell for paul's looks"

this one. this one was a goddamn journey and a half. this sent me on several rabbit holes and dead ends. the author of the last source said "nope it's definitely not from the tapes i found this audio from or i would've posted it too" and couldn't find the source either. no one had a source. until finally i found someone on a forum saying it was in the ballad of john and yoko published by rolling stone in 1984, in an essay titled "harry remembers" and thank christ it was on archive.org

so here's the full quote, found on page 236

"He spoke the way James Joyce wrote. And to me he was the Beatles. He was always the spark. In a late wee-hours-of-the-morning talk, he once told me: 'I'm just like everybody else, Harry. I fell for Paul's looks. George knew more chords, so he was in. And Ringo, he's just Ringo.'"

(source)

so this one gets a... true/neutral rating from me. why neutral? well, the "i fell for paul's looks" part is certainly there. but in the full context, he's talking about why he wanted each member in the beatles. basically, paul was the pretty face. however, he did say that verbatim and it is incredibly fucking gay imo. like specifically the "i fell for" wording is craaaaazy to me. but i do think the full context should be included if we're talking about it, as well as the actual source.

so no, they were not indeed both from the same interview. one isn't even FROM an interview. but they are both true! which is great bc i love both of these quotes and truly thought they were fake! pleasantly surprised on this one

now, take these with a grain of salt. the first quote is a third-hand source. it's nilsson recounting what some random fan told him john had done YEARS prior. the second one is a second-hand source and nilsson and john were like pretty infamous for getting drunk/high together. but the quotes themselves? certainly exist from harry nilsson, and that's the question. believe them if you want to, or leave them! i'm certainly taking them lmao

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 10/29/2024

new boot goofin. also a great book for the cowboyblogger crew and TWO cat photos

listening

afterimage by JUSTICE and Rimon was on a spotify autogenerated dance playlist and it is So soothing to my brain. sometimes described as heavy metal disco, it itches the same brain scratch as daft punk's interstella 5555. comforting and familiar road trip music where the road trips are in spaceships with a sort of clunky engine thrumming away in the background. you know that extremely early ass o clock in the morning road trip feel where it's very pale and a little misty out and you're only sort of awake? i feel like this is a very different kind of road trip music animal than than late-night road trip music. it's pulling you out the door. it's for beginnings, not for very tired almost-ends.

-

reading

thank you mackie. very reading heavy week. im tryign to redirect myself into library books instead of election doomscrolling and im trying to read more physical books bc i have a tremendous pile of shit i genuinely do want to read and almost none of it is on my phone. first we'll talk about Navigational Entanglements by Aliette de Bodard, from randomly perusing the library stacks. really really really fucking loved this one.

Award-winning author of The Red Scholar’s Wake Aliette de Bodard comes for your heart with a compelling tale of love, duty, and found-family in an exciting new space opera that brings xianxia-style martial arts to the stars. Jockeying navigator clans guide spaceships through the Hollows: an area of space populated by the mysterious but deadly creatures known as Tanglers. When a Tangler escapes the Hollows for the first time in living memory, each clan must send a representative to help capture it—but the mission may be doomed and the hearts of two clan juniors may be in danger too.

first off: this isn't fucking found family. this is a group of coworkers. tor dot com loves to slap found family on anything gay.

politics is about control and inter-group dynamic politics are also about control. and grappling for control in your life when you grow up in a Young Leadership program. i really liked this, one of the least annoying examples of someone getting overstimulated and needing to lie down in a dark quiet room and how hanging out with some people does not impair rest and hanging out with some people is extremely extremely draining. the love interest is what if lee van cleef was a young vietnamese woman in the far future who can navigate faster than light travel.

very snappy little 160-pg novella that does not overstay its welcome. packs a genuinely surprising amount of worldbuilding and character work into its pages: i have a lot of trouble with ensemble casts post-Covid and keeping everyone straight (especially in hard copy form where I can’t easily search a book) but everyone is a fully formed person here and i had no trouble keeping everyone straight in my head. i will be asking my siblings to acquire a physical copy for me for christmas. i love a fucked up political mystery with spacewalks and space monsters.

the lead, nhi, reminded me a lot of friends at the table's brnine, a self-sacrificing perfectionist fish. hope that's useful information to all three of you i have bullied into listening to fatt

The Shabti by Megaera C. Lorenz. this finally came off my holds, hat tip to i think someone else's tuesdaypost? cannot immediately locate it. holler if it was you.

Can you flimflam a ghost? It’s 1934. Former medium Dashiel Quicke travels the country debunking spiritualism and false mediums while struggling to stay ahead of his ex-business partner and lover who wants him back at any cost. During a demonstration at a college campus, Dashiel meets Hermann Goschalk, an Egyptologist who’s convinced that he has a genuine haunted artifact on his hands. Certain there is a rational explanation for whatever is going on with Hermann’s relics, Dashiel would rather skip town, but soon finds himself falling for Hermann. He agrees to take a look after all and learns that something is haunting Hermann’s office indeed. Faced with a real ghost Dashiel is terrified, but when the haunting takes a dangerous turn, he must use the tools of the shady trade he left behind to communicate with this otherworldly spirit before his past closes in.

this keeps getting reviewed as cozy horror, which i do not agree with bc i hate the term and believe it oxymoronic. it is a fairly straightforward romance with paranormal shit happening in the foreground. a period piece not particularly for the folx end of the fag/folx gay book spectrum-- they happen to be gay but there's a lot of other shit happening. not a spicy romance as the tiktok girlies say. it is a period book that sort of elides over the worst parts of the 30s? eg there is no on-page or overt racism or antisemitism that the characters have to Confront. one of the lead's neighbors is a black nurse trying to start a NAACP chapter, but she's so fully fleshed out and such an enjoyable character it doesn't feel like the book is looking for moral points from modern readers. i also liked the general slow-build of the book and their relationship — i have no complaints about the intensity or pace of their relationship.

the one ding i have is that it is perhaps a touch too enthusiastic about period slang. it's fine when the two leads are talking to each other, especially bc their word choice is a large way they show their personality, but when there are more than two people in a scene it can grate a little for me. i do think the dialogue is generally the strong suit here, and the author particularly excels at two-person back and forths, so it’s not a frequent complaint.

i liked the contrast of the scam medium with the academic egyptologist, since many egyptologists were also scams. the scenes with the spirit are genuinely eerie, which is a very good contrast with the fairly straightforward, often sparse narration.

grudging respect for keeping a joke simmering on the back burner for four hundred pages before deploying it. this was a well-paced read i have no major complaints about.

i have to spin this book around in my brain and get a physical copy and flip back and forth and lot and make notes to myself in a separate notebook before i talk about this one here i think. same brain itch as a canticle for leibowitz.

i also read a bunch of comics but this section is already long enough goodbye

-

watching

the first episode of the currently airing penguin tv show! at my bestie's house bc she has an hbo max subscription from something, unfortunately it is an emotionally fraught very tense show and we're kind of full up on those so i will have to finish this on my own. at no point did i say to myself "whoa that's colin farrell". both the prosthetic and accent work are off the charts.

i do Not like a piece of media about the mob. i will stomach it for batman. it's really wild how the accents they've chosen for gotham and her suburbs make me so so so weirdly homesick. one of the locations is an early McMansion and my bestie and i said almost simultaneously "are we in fucking Cherry Hill???" a jersey noveau riche town infested with notable McMansions.

i am constantly chasing the high of s1 black sails where everyone is frantically scheming and falling all over them fucking selves. this gets pretty close! it's big budget prestige tv with the storytelling chops to match so far. one of my favorite comic runs is The Long Halloween, partially about the fortunes of the Maroni and Falcone crime families of Gotham. this is loosely following that, but deviates enough to surprise me, which i enjoy. there have been enough faithful adaptations of that comic run imo.

optimistic about the rest of the season! i have such low expectations for batman media that it's refreshing to get like a genuinely good pilot episode out of the franchise.

-

playing

i have Got to find a new game to play that i already own. genshin is such a good podcast game but i need Something New. surely the 576047357649857689 games across five libraries will save me.

-

making

so many things happened this week. cat neuter and constipation episode. helped take apart and put back together a children's' room. lot of running around.

crunchy! i almost left these docs at goodwill bc i don't have a super high opinion of the company or the quality of the boots. i have heard my ENTIRE life about how long-lasting they are and how people have had the same boots for years but i completely shredded a pair during eight months in 2019. like the soles were worn almost completely smooth to the point they were a slipping hazard, half the eyelets were broken, and the leather was genuinely disintegrating. that was one of the busiest and most active periods of my life (classes at other campuses both semesters, a summer in new hampshire, the beginning of the makerspace) but i did expect them to hold up a little better or a little longer. they only got to experience about a month and a half of salt at the beginning and were regularly cleaned. yes i did buy them straight from the company.

anyway. these extremely ugly docs industrials had almost all their tread and magically fit me. like the rest of me, my feet are large and wide and difficult to fit. they are by Far the ugliest shoes i have ever owned. however. they will be the boots i will wear for when i need to be okay about potentially destroying my footwear.

hit em with some saddle soap and polished the toes, i seem to be flat out of leather conditioner so i was only able to hit the heels and one tongue. the laces are in the warsh.

they're real leather and were twelve dollars and miraculously fit me. you know that quote about americans being temporarily embarrassed millionaires? i still, in many ways, think of myself as a temporarily embarrassed abled person. i am slowly giving up on the idea of another remote job, bc they seem to all be fake, and going harder on city and county jobs. while i would rather wear my beloved CAT steel toes with the nice padded cuffs any day of the week, maybe these will be good for tromping around somewhere inspecting something. would Love a weights and measures inspection job if their office would return my polite messages.

also ruby goes home tonight! goodbye ruby!

[probablyintensemuses]

I need advice asap!

Im 21 years old and im a student in college. I work a coffee shop job. My boyfriend is 23 years old and works a full time job as a computer engineer for a company and makes 70k a year if not more. I’m considering breaking up with him, but before why, I’ll elaborate.

Me and my boyfriend live together.

His apartment burned down in late 2022, early 2023. Until he found a place he stayed with me and my family. When he got his place he asked me to move in on a few conditions: id cook and clean.

We have a dog. I handle most of everything for the dog except for maybe walking and play.

My boyfriend and I had a huge fight months ago, nearly a year ago, because when I wasn’t there, I was hanging with friends, he broke into my laptop and searched my messages and found old sexual messages between me and this girl and accused me of cheating. Yet he never broke up with me.

He hardly ever speaks to me and makes it seem like I’m an annoyance.

He doesn’t respect my boundaries and always pushes me

Now he wants me to quit my job and get a serving job so I can pay half the rent as well as my other expenses.

He wanted to visit his parent in Florida and drive using my car. Dealership said my wheels weren’t good and I needed them all replaced. He paid for it and told me I had to pay him back even thought I never asked. He drove my car down there and doesn’t pay shit on it! And is trying to do it again, but I said no this time.

He hardly interacts with my family.

He doesn’t help me financially but expects me to help him. The most she’s bought me is a few books and stuff. When I bought him a 1.2k dollar amp for his college graduation and I was broke, that came out my savings and it burnt in the fire.

I constantly bend over backwards for him and get hardly anything in return. I think our relationship has run its course I just have no idea what to do.

I just need advice I feel so stuck and stupid. Can anyone help me? Mg parents keep telling Me to come back home and finish school, save my money. But idk I’m afraid he’ll expose my sexuality to them cuz he said he would.

Two last things, this is more recent, my boyfriend is supposed to be going to Florida in a few days and I can’t afford to come —context it’s his brothers engagement party—I already expressed this. Not I mention it would be out 3rd anniversary while he is down there and he hasn’t said shit about it. Also instead of helping me he just sends me screenshots of flight costs and shit.

Another thing happened the other night. I got kind of drunk and was sitting on the couch. I wanted to talk to him and was begging for him to come talk to me and sit with me. And he got so annoyed and said he was tired and walked away and kept ignoring me even though I was calling for him. But had energy to play on the video game and laugh with friends and play with our dog not even an hour earlier. His response when i called him on that?

“I worked ten hours today. You didnt.”

Am I the asshole, what should I do?

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader)

Chapter 4: Unseen Care

Find chapter 3 Here:

Toby was at the library, a bit pissed off at the slow system and outdated computers. Also, the dirty looks he was getting due to his tics. He knew it was only so long before someone kicked him out. He was also annoyed his target seemed so elusive. He couldn’t find them anywhere. He gave a quiet whine before looking up at the ceiling and brainstorming ideas on how else to get information on this guy.

That’s when an idea came to mind, but not one for his target. He’s never thought of it before but why didn’t he just….

He pulled up the search engine, fingers typing quickly. “(Y/n) (L/n)” Surely she had some sort of social media or-

Holy shit. Why hadn’t he? It felt like such an obvious way to know more about her, to see parts of her life that she hadn’t told him about.

His heart skipped a beat when a YouTube channel appeared with her name. The thumbnail showed her smiling, holding a guitar in her lap. He clicked on it, and her voice flooded his headphones. It was soft, melodic, and mesmerizing. As she sang, Toby’s pulse quickened. She was perfect. She had to know she was perfect, right? But then he glanced down at the comments, and his stomach twisted.

"Your voice is amazing!"

"You’re so talented! Please post more!"

“I could listen to you all day."

Toby’s jaw clenched. Who the hell were these people? All these strangers showered her with compliments like they had the right to be close to her. They didn’t *know* her. Not like he did. How dare they think they had a claim on her attention, on her voice? *That* was his. She was his.

Anger surged through him, clouding his judgment. Before he could stop himself, he typed a comment.

"You’re not that good. Maybe stop singing and spare us all."

His finger hovered over the enter key. Nah it would take more than that. He wondered whose account he was even on because he couldn’t comment without an account. Whoever used the computer last would just have to deal with it….no. There was nothing he could do or say that would get her to stop making videos. Unless he broke all her instruments. Awe. But then she was crying…and come to him…and cry about it…and let him hug her.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea…nah. Too much hassle. Hm. He got out of his phone searching the video for himself. He couldn’t comment or anything on it, but it was nice. Maybe if the power was back on at his house the service would be up. Maybe he could set the video to loop…get it to play him like a nice lullaby.

More irritated looks. His time was up. Toby clicked off and left.

⦻

Toby frowned at your door. It felt weird to not have to sneak up on it. To be so close while the sun was still out. He looked down at the flowers he bought nervously. He twitched more nervously. He can’t stand at the door forever. He rang the doorbell. Seconds passed. Maybe this was a mistake, maybe he just turned back around and-

“Toby!” Too late, you had opened the door. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show!” Her eyes shifted to the flowers. “Ooh! Those are lovely.” She gave a smile and opened the door. “Come on, don’t be shy!” Toby blushed and stepped in.

The scene before him made his heart sink. The room wasn’t empty. Kai is who his eyes landed on first. Next to him was a girl who looked pretty similar. With golden brown skin and full lips. She was very pretty. Of course not as pretty as his angel. Nobody was as pretty as his angel. Her face seemed to sit in a sort of natural smirk. Mischievous if you will. Her hair was dark and straight unlike Kai’s though and her eyes were a subtle green.

The other girl kinda scared Toby. She had hard short black hair that stopped at the bottom of her ears. The ends curled slightly, giving it a bit untamed look. Her skin was pale like she never went outside much. Not the sickly gray his was though. She had dark circles under her eyes which were steel gray. They held a sense of mischief as well, but the wrong kind. As they could see right through Toby and instantly knew all his secrets. A giddy of knowing something he didn’t almost.

The final girl, Toby noticed sat a bit away from everyone else. She looked almost…guilty. Like she was somewhere she really shouldn’t be. She had long wavy hair that was dyed a bubblegum pink. Big blue eyes with long lashes and a red gloss shined her full lips. She looked very made up. Like she took extra good care of herself. The kind Toby knew boys looked twice at down the street.

Other than Toby and Kai, there was one other male. This one, Toby recognized. He was at the claw machine. His name was ‘Moon’. If that was his real name anyway. Moon had a very boyish face if that made sense. He had sandy blonde curly hair. The texture was a bit like Toby’s. Now that Toby was closer he noticed the light dusting of freckles on his face, heavy eyebrows over grey eyes that had slight circles underneath.

Somehow, other than Kai he honestly gave a slight air of maturity. “Toby, this is Brook, Kai, Jaga, Moon, and April!”

What a weird set of names. Toby wanted to say something but for some reason, he couldn’t speak. He felt like he was back at school, watching all the kids hide their snickers as the teacher introduced him and reminded them to be nice. He shuffled closer to you. You took the flowers and went to set them on the counter in the kitchen.

“Woo! Toby!” Moon said throwing his arms up. “Just in time. We still haven’t decided what to watch.”

Noooooooooo! NO NO NO NO!

You were supposed to be alone! This was supposed to be his chance! It was supposed to be a date! Not an intro to all your useless friends nobody cared about! Toby forced a slight smile. His bandage crinkled and he felt self-conscious.

Where did you go? Why did you leave him here?! Kai was smiling pleasantly at him and even moved aside. “Here Toby, take a seat. I’m sure (Y/n) won’t mind.”

The last person Tobias Rogers wanted to sit by was Kai of all people. He didn’t know why he hated Kai so much. Couldn’t place it. Why did he feel that way about Kai but with Moon…Toby wasn’t sure. There wasn’t the same need to carve into Moon’s skull with his hatchet as Kai’s.

Toby felt like his skin was on fire as he glanced around the room. Each of these people seemed to have a role in your life that he wasn’t a part of. Yet. His teeth clenched, forcing a smile. “Th-thanks f-for inviting me.”

Kai nodded. Toby hated the way his cologne smelt. It was too strong. Surely you thought so too. “So Toby.” The girl next to Kai, with the subtle green eyes, spoke up, to Brook as she was introduced. “How do you know (Y/n)?”

Toby was trying hard not to twitch, and ignoring the way Kai moved slightly away to avoid getting hit. ‘Good. Get away from me. Freak.’ Toby thought. “Uh. I s-saved her from a falling t-tree.” Toby’s eyes narrowed slightly. He hated that smirk on her face. It was like she was mocking him, daring him to say something embarrassing. “Sh-she was in the woods o-out back…d-down the p-path.”

Brooks's gaze didn’t waver. “Really? You didn’t strike me as an outdoorsy sort of guy.” Referring to Toby’s pale appearance.

If only she knew.

Toby forced out a chuckle, though his grip on the couch tightened. “Y-you’d be s-surprised.”

Moon jumped in, saving him from further questioning. “We’re just glad you could make it, man. (Y/n) talks about you a lot.”

Toby’s heart raced. Did she talk about him? *A lot?* He wanted to press Moon for more details, but the girl with the short black curly hair (Jaga as she was introduced) voice cut in.

“I hope you’re not shy, Toby,” she teased, her eyes glinting mischievously. “We’re a loud bunch.”

“Shy?” April scoffed. “No, he’s just quiet. There’s a difference.” She gave Toby a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. He didn’t like her much either. She reminded him of those girls in school who were all makeup and lies. The ones who would laugh as their boyfriends beat the shit outta him.

He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to take you by the hand and run far away, somewhere where these people couldn’t get between you. His thoughts spiraled, but then you returned, settling beside him on the couch with a smile. Toby visibly relaxed.

“So, what are we watching?” you asked, looking at everyone expectantly.

“Something scary, I hope,” Kai said, leaning back and stretching. “Toby doesn’t look like he scares easy.”

Toby’s jaw clenched. That was a bait, right? He was pretty much just trying to piss Toby off by even speaking to him. Make him snap so he would scare his Angel away and then Kai could have her all to himself. Well, Toby wasn’t gonna fall for it!

He watched Kai pull out his phone real quick to check a text, and an idea formed in Toby’s head, he felt you shift closer to him, and Toby’s breath hitched. He forgot you were practically cuddling up to him. I mean, you were sitting normally, but you were an inch closer to him the Kai! That was a win in Toby’s book if anything.

“I-I’m d-down for any-anything,” Toby said, trying to calm his heart.

“Perfect,” you said, your hand brushing his arm as you reached for the remote. Toby almost shivered at the contact. “Then let’s start with this one.”

As the movie began, Toby’s mind was only half on the screen. The other half was fixated on Kai’s phone. If I can get it, what could I do? Go through his messages? Make sure he stays away from her. Toby’s heart raced at the thought.

He glanced over at Kai, who was leaning back, his eyes on the screen. Careless. Stupid. It’ll be easy to take it. All he had to do was wait for the right moment.

For now, he’d play along, smile when he needed to, laugh when it was expected. But his mind was somewhere else entirely. Focused. Calculating.

Tonight, he’d make sure that Kai knew who belonged in (Y/n)’s life.

⦻

They were halfway through the movie Toby kept his eyes on the screen but his mind was right with you. Feeling you brush against him with every laugh or gasp. You didn’t seem all that scared though. It seems horror movies just weren’t enough to jostle you.

His.

But every time he tried to at least pretend you were alone with him, pretend that it was what he so desperately wanted it to be, his eyes flicked back to Kai on your other side. He seemed all too comfortable, too relaxed, too familiar with you. It made Toby’s blood boil.

Toby forced a smile. “Y-yeah, just n-not used to b-being around so m-many people.” Moon nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it. But don’t worry, we’re cool. No one’s gonna bite.” He offered Toby a grin, his expression friendly. Toby found himself softening slightly. Moon was different. He didn’t have that smug arrogance that Kai did.

Though he didn’t like how Kai and (Y/n) could hear. Great. Now she knew he was uncomfortable. He looked at you briefly, and thankfully you were engrossed in the movie, unaware of the hurricane in Toby’s head that he was desperately trying to contain.

As the movie progresses, the tension builds in the story. Now and then, Brook or Jaga would make a snarky comment, breaking the atmosphere with laughter. Toby felt out of place, like a shadow in the corner of a picture that didn’t belong.

“So Toby,” Jaga spoke in a more boring part of the film. “(Y/n) says you into like, nature right?”

‘Nature? What the hell is (Y/n) making him sound like a tree hugger or-’

“S-something like th-that.” He responded.

“That’s cool,” Brook added, leaning forward, her eyes studying him. “Are you into anything else, or…”

“U-uh mostly like, video g-games.”

At least that used to be a hobby of his. It still kinda is in passing when he wants the noise in his head to stop, or if Ben was around. Toby felt his face heat up. He wasn’t good at talking about himself. “Mostly e-easy stuff I’m n-not competitive…”

“Video games?” April piped up. “Like what kind?”

Toby glanced at you, your eyes were bright and happy with your big smile like you were so pleased he was getting along with your friends. He didn’t wanna embarrass himself in front of you.

“Uh…sandbox. Wh-whatever I feel l-like.”

“Ooh, sandbox! What like Minecraft?” Brook teased, leaning forward more. “Are you a Minecraft kid, Toby?”

Toby’s grip tightened on his knee. “M-maybe.” He tried to play into the joke.

“Come on, don’t be shy!” Jaga pushed, her eyes gleaming with that unsettling amusement. “You could probably help (Y/n) with her Minecraft house. She loves that sandbox game stuff.”

The others laughed, but Toby felt a wave of annoyance wash over him. They were mocking him. He could tell. You were too kind to see it, but he could feel their disdain, their condescension. They think I’m a joke.

You seemed to sense his discomfort, because you leaned closer, your voice soft. “Hey, don’t let them get to you. They’re just messing around.” Your voice tickled his ear. “They do it to me too.”

Toby’s heart fluttered. You’re defending me. He gave you a small, grateful smile. “Th-thanks.”

Kai suddenly stood up, stretching. “Gonna grab a drink. Anyone want something?”

As he moved, his phone slipped from his pocket, landing softly on the couch. Toby’s eyes locked onto it, his mind racing. This is it.

“I-I’ll g-go with you,” Toby blurted out, standing up as well. He was surprised at himself. He didn’t wanna be alone with Kai, but even that seemed better than having all this attention on him.

Kai shrugged. “Sure, man. Let’s go.”

As they left the room, Toby glanced back, seeing you watching him with a curious expression. He forced a smile before turning away, following Kai to the kitchen.

Once they were out of sight, Kai opened the fridge, grabbing a couple of drinks. “You doing okay, Toby?” he asked, his tone annoyingly friendly. “You seemed a bit tense back there.”

“I-I’m fine,” Toby muttered, his eyes darting around. Kai had set the drinks on the counter, his back to Toby as he rummaged through a drawer for something.

“Here you go,” Kai said, turning back around and handing Toby a soda. “Let’s get back before we miss too much.”

As they headed back Toby was quick to sit down while Kai passed out drinks. He used the opportunity to quickly swipe Kai’s phone while everyone was distracted. He stuffed it in his sweater planning to hide it better in a minute.

Kai sat back down, completely oblivious. Toby felt a dark satisfaction and felt free to enjoy the warmth of you next to him again. You leaned into him slightly. As if you knew he needed it.

As the night went on, Toby found himself gradually relaxing. Moon and Jaga kept up a steady stream of jokes and banter, and even though he didn’t feel completely comfortable, he found himself laughing along with them at times. Brook asked more questions about his hobbies, (Toby had to start making some up on the spot, realizing he didn’t have much pleasure in anything anymore) seeming genuinely interested, and April shared a few stories about her hobbies, which were mostly makeup and fashion and oddly enough roller skating?

By the end of the movie, Toby was feeling strangely calm. You were smiling at him, your eyes bright, and for a moment, he felt almost normal. Almost like he could be a part of this world you lived in. He could earn your heart the right way. Maybe buy you flowers. Ask you out on dates…treat you right. Ask you to be with him.

If he wasn’t a proxy. If he wasn’t a murderer employed and marked by a demonic entity and forced to do his bidding. What was he even doing? Trying to win you over? Even if he did it’s not like-

But then he caught sight of Kai, who was looking around with a frown, patting his pockets. Toby’s heart rate spiked again. He knows.

“Hey, has anyone seen my phone?” Kai asked, standing up and looking around the couch.

“I’m sure you just dropped it somewhere,” Brook said, rolling her eyes. “You always lose it.”

Kai’s frown deepened, but he nodded, starting to search the cushions. Toby felt a surge of satisfaction. He’ll never find it. He glanced at you, who was watching Kai with a concerned expression. For a moment, Toby felt a pang of guilt. But then he remembered the way Kai had looked at you, the way he’d smiled like he had any right to be close to you. And the guilt disappeared.

“Maybe you left it in the kitchen?” Moon suggested, standing up to help look.

“I-I didn’t see it,” Toby offered, his voice steady. He felt a strange thrill at the lie, the way it rolled off his tongue so easily. It was almost too easy, how he could manipulate the situation to his advantage.

Kai looked around one last time before sighing. “Yeah, maybe.” He shot Toby a look, one that made Toby’s skin prickle with unease. “Guess I’ll have to check when I get home.”

“I’ll look while you are gone too!” You piped up.

Toby had no idea what he would do with the phone now that he had it, but for now, he had gotten away with it.

“Maybe we can call it?” Brook suggested, pulling out her phone.

“Nah I got it on silent.”

“The vibrate will still make noise”

“No, because I turned that off too.”

“What why?!”

“Because we were watching a movie and your friend is blowing up my phone! She’s like convinced we have something together because I gave her my number for business reasons!”

Brook giggled at this. “Sounds like her.” Kai nodded in annoyance still looking. “Yeah well, tell her, your cousin has a life.” Brook rolled her eyes.

As the night wound down and everyone started saying their goodbyes, Toby felt a strange sense of satisfaction. This was just the beginning. Soon, he’d make sure everyone knew who you belonged to. And no one—not Kai, not anyone—would stand in his way.

⦻

He didn’t know what he would do with the phone, though he had spent the rest of the night making sure all location sharing was off. Then scroll under your name. Which he couldn’t find. He found you under “🩷” which was irritating, to say the least. He only found out it was you because in some group chats, you were called out by name, and snooping through his private messages with you he used his context clues. Then after doing some more snooping and looking through other chats, he quickly realized his suspicions were true:

Kai Isaac. (As he learned his last name now) Had quite the crush on you. Gushing to his friends about you, saying that you were just the perfect girl. That any guy would be so lucky to have you.

His friends pushed him on, but Kai insisted he wasn’t ready to confess his feelings to you just yet.

Well, he got that right. But you weren’t meant for Kai Isaac! You were meant for him! Toby! Ugh! It made Toby hate Kai even more! He shoved the phone in a drawer and slammed it shut.

Kai didn’t deserve you! He didn’t have dreams about you for months before meeting you! You guys were not tied by the red string of fate! You and Toby were! You guys were meant to be together. You were meant to make it all better.

Maybe he was the hero in your story. Saving you from Kai who was quite obviously the villain. He would ignore you, not take the time to learn everything about you, and just be on overall bad boyfriend. Yeah. He wouldn’t be able to please you either! Toby bet his dick was small!

Toby crossed his arms and pouted. Stupid Kai. With his stupid phone.

Toby grabbed his hatchets.

He needed to go let off some steam.

⦻

(Y/n) (L/n) was tired. She shuffled into her house and flicked on the light, toeing her shoes off and kicking them away from her she’s struggled with her apron for a moment, panicking slightly when she felt it do the knot of death. ((Y/n)’s way of saying when the apron didn’t come undone and instead made a tighter knot and you couldn’t get it off) It fell though, and she yanked it off. She almost took her pants off too before realizing she should probably wait till she was in her room. Not that she lived with anyone. It’s just this watching feeling has gotten a bit worse since then.

She made her way to the kitchen, going to get her well-deserved snack, and went to open the pantry door, being careful. A while back, (Y/n) doesn’t know how it happened, but her friends had gotten drunk along with her. Locking Moon, the only sober one in the pantry as a joke. Moon wasn't playing when he broke the door off the hinges to get out. Fair enough. She really should just put the door in her garage and settle for the now walk-in pantry, however (Y/n) still wanted to convince herself that she would eventually be able to fix it herself. When she opened the pantry the door didn’t fall forward like it usually did. It swung open, almost as if…

Looking at the hinges she saw shiny new pins had been put in place. What? When had she gotten the time to do that? Did she remember doing that? Surely she would recall finally fixing her pantry door? Maybe her friends were messing with her. They were over earlier this week. Surely she would have heard them messing around in the kitchen fixing her door though?

She picked up her phone.

Haha! Very funny guys! Thanks for fixing the door! Means a lot! 🩷

Moon: ?

Moon: We did not fix a door. At least I didn’t.

(Y/n): Stop lying. You guys fixed the pantry door. Looks great!

Brook: Girl fixed her door and doesn’t even remember 💀

(Y/n): Stop messing with me!

Nobody responded after that. Probably giving up on trying to convince her it wasn’t them right? Cause it's them. Surely (Y/n) would remember going to the store and buying new pins for the door right? Surely (Y/n) would remember grabbing her tools and fixing the door right???

However, she was tired lately. Maybe she did. Who cares it was fixed! Tossing the thoughts away in a dark corner of her head she grabbed what she wanted and started to head upstairs, pausing at the landing when she realized the stairway light was on.

The stair light light blew out during the storm last week. Didn’t it? Or did it? She searched her memory, remembering the panic she felt when a clap of thunder woke her along with a series of popping sounds. That happened. (Y/n) had been meaning to get that fixed but she needed to go buy a stool. Maybe it fixed itself? She doesn’t know how electricity works! Maybe it could happen! Okay, whatever she’s being so ridiculous it’s not even funny. Go upstairs! It’s bedtime!

You felt uneasy.

Tobias had been in your house. Of course, he had. He had cleaned up and went around with some tools he found in your garage to fix things. He even did your dishes. He could just imagine how grateful you would be! You’d appreciate it for sure right? Like a guardian secretly taking care of you. Cause that’s what he was right? Your guardian. Maybe you hadn’t mentioned these things. Maybe you just dealt with it. Broken latches and flickering lights. Mm. Maybe these things didn’t bother you. They bothered him. Poor baby. Living in a run-down house with nobody in the world to help her keep it up.

Tobias scrubbed the stains out of your counters while the washer ran with your clothes. Feeling like he was directly taking care of you as he poured dish detergent and started the dishwasher as well before continuing to scrub. A clean environment was important for not getting sick right? He would hate for you to get sick. Or maybe he would. That way you could call him. Then he could take care of you. The smell of disinfectant filled his nose. Oddly familiar. From where?

⦻

“Tobias.” Toby rolled over to look at Lyra, snot running from his nose. The smell of disinfectant in the air. He spied the spoonful of medicine in her hand. “Oh ew n-no.” He rolled back over. “Y-you already m-made me get up so y-you can wash my sheets and fucking sh-shit. Just let me l-lay down!”

Lyra Rogers, however, was more concerned for another reason. None of the medicine was working. Just like she thought it wouldn’t. She was giving it one last go but after feeling around Toby’s face, her eyes widened. She dropped the spoon, not caring for the mess it made as she practically yanked Tobias out of bed and forced him down the hall and into the tub. She turned it on the coldest setting and disappeared. Toby reluctantly undressed and went in, curling up. This was stupid. He felt fine. As fine as he could anyway. Lyra came in and dumped an entire bowl of ice in the tub and on Toby’s head.

Toby couldn’t feel the temperatures, nor could he sweat. Lyra’s reaction meant his fever must be very high. Sometimes, Lyra was the only reason Toby didn’t go into a seizure due to heat stroke. Toby was always sickly though. With CIPA not only was his body not able to feel pain, but it also struggled to regulate his immune system since it honestly couldn’t tell when it was sick. At least that's how Toby thought of it. Lyra left the bathroom, handing him a rag and telling him to keep putting cold water all over him. If it wasn’t for Lyra Toby’s body would have killed him awhile ago. His mom didn’t care enough to check his temperature 59 times a day as his worrying sister did. Lyra was the only one who could take care of him.

⦻

Just like Toby is the only one to take care of you, right? Nobody ever checked in on you, to make sure you were okay. He was gonna make sure that he at least cared. Finishing the chores he left the house and locked it up.

He was taking care of you, protecting you. And one day, you’d understand.

You’d realize how much you needed him.

[sagencelestient]

My boyfriend Scaramouche!

Genre: Fluff? Character: Take a guess.

Your eyes flutter open, stretching your arms out as you wake up. What time was it? You'd check that eventually. You close your eyes and roll on your side, facing where your boyfriend, Scaramouche is. You grab a plushie from the side of your bed and hug him. He was warm, and cozy right now. You never wanted to get up. But you had to, eventually. Damn cruel world. After a while, probably around half an hour, you kiss him, turn away, open your eyes, and sit up.

"Ah... good morning Scara!" you announce, checking your phone for the time. 12. Shit. It was late, and you had classes. After changing, you say goodbye to your boyfriend and rush out of the room.

Thankfully, you didn't arrive at your classes late. You take a seat and begin doodling on a piece of paper. You didn't really have any friends here. Not only this, but this place assigned so much homework.

You really hated being here, but you really had no choice. You imagine Scaramouche wrapping his arms around your neck, comforting you. You imagine him kissing your neck as he says "It's okay y/n... You'll be home soon, and I'll be there with you~"

You blush, putting your head down for a moment as the teacher takes up the homework assigned a few days ago. You hated that you had to be away from Scaramouche for a while, and you hated that you had to do so much homework because of these classes, but it... was fine, you supposed. As long as you would be reunited with him later.

After hours of class, you caught a small break. You had some time, but not enough to go home, so you go to a small local cafe nearby, buying lunch for yourself. You'd get something for Scaramouche on your way back home too.

As you went back to your classes, you thought about what Scaramouche would want. Definitely something bitter. Maybe tea? But you already had tea. You wondered if you could maybe find some bitter candy, as you know he hated candy but liked bitter things. You were curious as to how he'd react to it. Would he like it? You decide to search for "bitter candy" on your phone, secretly, during class, but all your search engine came up with were sour candy brands. How sad. Maybe you should get him some black coffee?

The class you were in right now was only 2 hours long, and you were halfway through it. However, it did feel like an eternity. An eternity away from your mouchie. You doodled little sketches of him and you in your notebook. Sure, you should probably be listening to the lesson, and you were, partly, so it should be fine.

"All right, that's about it for today," the teacher spoke, "if you have any questions, feel free to stay for awhile to ask me. If not, you are free to go."

Finally! You think, grabbing your stuff and leaving the classroom. You decided to buy him dark chocolate. It was bitter, right? Bitter, and a good long-ish lasting snack. You also decide to pick up some tea and black coffee for him, if he didn't like it.

You ride a bus to get home, excited to see your Scaramouche. When you open the door and look around, however, he wasn't anywhere.

Oh, right. He probably went to work, or maybe he had something else to do. You sigh. You supposed you'd just have to wait.

You decide to take a shower, as it was hot outside and you did sweat during the day. You wanted to smell good when you cuddled with him at night! So you did just that. You thought up some cute things you two could do as well someday!

It became darker and darker outside as you scrolled around on your phone. You put your phone down, lying down and sighing as you imagined Scaramouche with you, sitting on the inside of your bed. But of course, he wasn't there.

You just really wished he were real.

[vamp1r1cjuggalo]

Update about the downfall AU?? I love it already, so I must ask.😭

Hi hi! Yes yes! I’m really glad you like it!

So we do actually a lot of updates! I’ll start off with our status list and then dive into characters!

Status list

Toons:

Flippy: dead rip L

Lord Lowden Clear: Alive, the new mayor

Mata Hairy: Alive, doing well

Good Ol’ Gil Giggles: Alive

Bumpy Bumblebehr: Alive

Rain: Alive and well, chilling with William

Reid Stock: Alive

River: Alive

Barnacle Bessie: Alive

The elders: Alive, old as shit

Timmy: Alive

Rocky: Might be dead, possibly due to an encounter with an odd red cat lawbot

Vinny: Alive but injured, not critically however

Rhapsody: Alive

Moe Zart: Alive, heavily disgruntled

Rose: Alive

Reed: Alive

Coach Zucchini: Dead

Lil Oldman: Alive

Ridge: Alive

Mac Opsys: Alive

Winn Dos: Alive

Elvis Purrsly: Questionable

Ok yeah most of the toons R alive

Cogs:

William: Alive, but fired, bad condition

Buck R.: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/Dave

Brian: Alive, fired, with Mac and Winn

Alton: Alive

Mary: Alive, on the search for misty, left the company

Misty: Alive but missing

Winston: Alive, very bad condition but alive

Holly: Alive, trying to help finding misty

Prester: questionable

Ben: Alive, forced to stay in the company

Cathal: Alive, the current VP

Allan: Dead, they killed my wife

Belle: Alive

Dave: Alive-ish, stuck in a permafusion w/ Buck

Chris: Alive

Flint: Alive, in the mafia

Cosmo and the inventors: Alive, buisness is kinda going to shit, hence them trying to get more people into the family

The Litigation team: Chimeraed

CLO; Critical condition but alive

Spruce: Alive

Chip: Alive, stuck in override

Craig: Alive

Desmond: A lot better than William that’s for true, Alive

Buck Wilde: Alive

Dana: A bit fucked up mentally but she’s doing ok, propaganda machine

Tawney: Alive

Graham: Alive but kinda starting to not be great mentally and physically L

Thomas: Alive but doin shit mentally

Robert: Alive, doin shit mentally, desperately trying to stand ground

Now for character updates:

Rain and William

William and Rain end up partnering up, the two coming together to survive after William left the company, having to leave for his safety as his age and outdated shell and software led to him beginning to fall apart, not able to withstand battle.

Rain has taken on engineering, to keep him together as best as she can.

Flint Bonpyre

They join Pluto’s crew officially, mostly out of desperation for a bit more money since repairs and stuff have been more expensive as of late due to the rise in them as well as lack of resources

Elvis Purrsly

Looking a little more robotic then usual, but it was found out he is alive. Sort of.

Misty Monsoon

While alive she may be, no one can find them, they’ve gone missing. Though reports have shown heavy and rapid weather changes in certain areas around toontown.

Mary Anna

Mary quit COGS inc, due to both her heavy concerns for the pollution, how awful everything has been, and to make more time to search for Misty. She has been leading the search for a few months now, but no one has been able to find Misty.

And that’s all for now folks!

We do have high roller lore but I still need to draw her ack

But yeah! Here are some updates! Thank you for reading!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Okay but the kiss prompts have me imagining a combo where one person is “maybe in another life” because they can’t hold back any longer but they don’t expect it to be reciprocal, and the other person is like “just fuck me already.”

I can definitely see it with Nathan!

Kiss Prompts!

Yooou got it!

It's not a decision that you've come to lightly. You love BlueBook—it was your first job just out of college, and has been an informative and rewarding workplace. You've gained a lot of experience; you've grown as a person; you've harbored a near-debilitating crush on your boss.

You're pretty sure you've hidden it well from Nathan. He's incredibly smart, very insightful, but he's never given you a second look—or even an inkling that he's known how you feel. You're certain that if he knew, he'd be a damnable tease about it.

Nathan just doesn't have it in himself to not be mean.

Take your resignation, for example. When you'd told him that you'd be leaving BlueBook, he'd grimaced for a half-second before brightening and smiling, teasing, "About fucking time—I've been dying to get rid of you. Whose processes are you going to slow down? Should've told me you were looking for a new place. I might've recommended who I wanted you to fuck over for me first."

You hadn't taken it personally. At least, you'd tried not to. You were certain he was just fucking with you.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you come into work on your last day to find a large floral arrangement sitting on your desk. You don't have time to ask who they're from before you hear the pop of a champagne bottle. You whirl around, spotting Nathan sitting on the couch in the far corner of your office.

"Nathan!" You practically screech. "It's nine in the morning!"

"It's 9:06," He corrects as he leans toward the coffee table where two champagne flutes are waiting. "Last day and you're fucking late."

"What are you gonna do, fire me?"

"Alright, smartass," Nathan chuckles. You shrug your bag off, taking a moment to admire the floral arrangement before you walk over to Nathan.

"Could've dressed more casually," He comments, openly looking over your body. "Been comfortable on your last day."

"I'm comfortable now." You lower yourself onto the couch beside Nathan, taking hold of one of the filled champagne flutes. "Did you just happen to be in town?"

"I'm here because one of my legacy engineers is leaving. Don't get a big head about it."

"Too late. My head's so big they're gonna have to take out a window to get me out of here."

Nathan chuckles, lightly knocking your glass against yours before you each take a sip. You lean back on your couch, nodding toward the flowers.

"You choose those?"

"I do my homework."

"I assume you went through my search history. That's practically cheating."

"You still have that rom-com bullshit idea of what's meaningful."

"I'm not saying they're not meaningful, I appreciate them. But it's not like you had to do any work, tease any information out of me."

"I don't have time to tease anything out of anybody, and I don't need to. That's a privilege of being me."

You snort, raising your glass and taking another swig before you slap his thigh. "Okay. Do whatever you're gonna do; I have shit to wrap up."

"Do it later."

"I'll do it now," You insist, pushing yourself off of the couch. "You're not my boss anymore."

You freeze as his fingers hook in the band of your pants.

"I'm your boss for the next eight hours. Sit down."

You hesitate, a thrill shuddering through you before you settle back down beside him.

"You'll have to turn in my shit if I'm late about it," You warn as Nathan removes his hand. You watch as he picks up the bottle and tops off your glass.

"I'll take care of it."

Your face warms, but you force yourself to roll your eyes.

"You're ridiculous. I hope you know that."

"That how you described me in your job interview?"

"What makes you think I described you?"

"They didn't ask why you're leaving your current position?"

"They did."

"So what'd you tell them?"

"That I felt like I'd reached my peak at this position and had more growing to do that I couldn't do here."

"Is that true?"

You hesitate, looking down into your glass.

"...A little."

"What about it isn't?"

Your mouth works worlessly for a moment before you sigh, shaking your head.

"I've been here a long time, Nathan."

"So have I."

"That's different. This is your baby—and I'm glad to have been in a part of it, but...But I need a change."

Nathan doesn't answer you for a long, testy moment. Then, he lightly clinks his glass against yours. You turn your head, watching him drain the glass before he clears his throat, setting the glass down.

"We're going to dinner tonight."

"Are we?" You laugh. "Since when?"

"Since I said we are. Go do what you need to do."

It's blunt, magnanimous—and impulsive in a way that you've never known Nathan to be.

--

"You turned in your laptop?"

"Yes."

"Work phone?"

"Of course," You scoff, "At 5 pm precisely. You're not getting me for unreturned tech. I'm not getting into a damn NDA breach. I'd be broke in a month if I had to deal with a lawsuit."

"A month? The hell have you been spending that six-figure salary of yours on? Strippers? Coke?"

"Rent and groceries." You look up from your desk, smiling as you find Nathan watching you. "Where are we going for dinner?"

"You tell me," He shrugs.

"I haven't really thought about it. I've been busy."

You plant your hands on your desk, biting your lip as you consider.

"Takeout? My place?" You offer.

"Perfect."

--

You can't stop looking at the flowers on your counter. They distract you every few moments, throughout dinner. You can't believe Nathan even bothered to check after your favorites—that he even bothered to come to see you out on your last day.

The thought warms you as you trail Nathan to the door that night, as you thank him again for all of his encouragement and expertise—

"Cut it out," He scoffs boredly, "You're going to make me cry."

"Oh, fuck off."

"That's more like it."

You shake your head, leaning in the doorway as Nathan stops just outside, turning to look at you.

"...I'd say I'll see you around, but you're so fucking reclusive, I'll probably never see you again." You try not to sound upset about it, even as you curl your arms across your chest.

It doesn't help this his agreement of, "Probably," Chases your comment.

"Well...Bye, then," You offer lamely. Nathan chuckles, stepping in with a murmur of, "Come on."

He doesn't have to do much urging, but you straighten up, leaning into the hug he gives. You curl your arms around his shoulders, smiling and pressing your face into his neck. He holds you closer than you expect, longer than you thought he would. You lean away finally, taking in his gaze.

You may as well take a chance.

Hell, you're never gonna see him again.

You just manage to lean in, to gently peck his lips. You're ready to draw back, to let him go, really let him go—

And then Nathan's hand curls around your nape, drawing you in. Your eyes widen in surprise, unable to help a slight, surprised hum as you return the kiss. Yo think it'll end there, but Nathan chases you with another kiss. His hands land on your hips, steering you back inside, and you squeak as you hear the door shut behind him.

"Nathan," You breathe, "What are you—I didn't think—"

"You usually don't."

"Fuck you—" You gasp as Nathan's hands slip down, smoothing over your suit pants and giving your ass a squeeze as he levels you with a lascivious grin.

"That's the idea."

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

Friendly Sex - Chapter 5 - The Cafeteria

I have flashed my creative licence in this chapter and borrowed some dialogue from The Duffers Brothers, because let's face it we all fell in love with Eddie in the cafeteria and the woods scene, but I have slightly re-jigged the context. We also have a flashback. Here be smut and feelings.

Chapter warnings: (MDI) 18+ only, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, p in v sex, dirty talk, swearing, consensual use of the word slut again, mentions of drugs, spit as lube, slight pain during sex? I am terrible at warnings

"It's a promise "

Eddie's words were ringing in your ears as you selected your outfit for the day. Not that you were picking an outfit to catch Eddie's attention, just like you hadn't intentionally put on a lacy baby pink underwear set. It just so happened to compliment your outfit, an off the shoulder baby pink sweater, paired with a simple black skater skirt and your converse, cute and practical that’s all.

"Sprout, hurry up and get your butt in the car or you're going to be late!" Your Dad calls up as you finish applying your lipstick, it was a little beat up from Eddie's antics but still usable. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, you grab your purse, jumping into the idling car on the drive.

"Little overdressed for school aren't you kiddo?" Your dad asks after a couple of minutes

"Uh - they're taking some random pictures of the seniors for the year book today." You reply absentmindedly, flicking down the vanity mirror rooting through your bag for your compact blush.

"Sprout, I may be old but I'm not dumb, are you dating?" 

You pause in your search, you hated lying to your dad, but if you were being technical about it you weren't dating. Having casual sex with the local outcast, sure, but definitely not dating. 

"No Dad," you laugh uncomfortably, "I'm not dating, there's no one I want to date, well apart from Steve." You add, checking over your appearance in the mirror one last time as he pulls into the school parking lot. 

"Ok kiddo, I believe you." His tone said otherwise. "Am I picking you up after school?" He asks as you climb out. 

You go to respond but the air is suddenly filled with the sound of heavy metal and the screech of tires, Eddie, you stare as he spins the van recklessly into a parking spot earning the glare of some jocks nearby.

'I do whatever I want to, to ya

I'll nail your ass to the sheets

A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya

I fuck like a beast!'

"Sprout, you ever bring a boy like that home, I'll send you to live with your mother permanently." Your dad says watching Eddie in clear disapproval.

"Uh huh." You mutter weakly, holding onto the car door tightly as Eddie kills the engine.

"So am I picking you up?" He asks again.

"No- uh, I'm going to watch Rob's practice." You reply distractedly.

Eddie spots you from the other side of the car park, a shit eating grin spreading across his face sending a shock of arousal through your body. "Bye Dad." You say quickly, shutting the door and heading off in the opposite direction.

"Hey dingus!" Robin hails you from Steve's car which has just pulled up behind you, Dustin and Mike squeezing out from the back; Hellfire Club t-shirts emblazoning their chests like Eddie's little minions. How they all managed to guilt trip Steve into giving them a lift everyday you'd never know. 

He raises his hand in greeting, a smile on his handsome face, you wave back your heart doing its usual sputter.

‘It’s going to be a long day.’ You think to yourself.

The cafeteria was a hive of activity and noise, Robin talking at the speed of a freight train as you grabbed your food trays, barely allowing you time to add in sympathetic noises. 

“I mean, am I really that invisible?” She asks you desperately.

“Of course you’re not Rob, maybe she was just focusing on the class.” You offer supportively, heading to your usual lunch table.

“Focusing on the back of Dan’s head more like.” She grumbles, taking a vicious bite out of her slice of pizza.

“Didn’t you say she laughed at your David Bowie joke last week?” You ask, remembering how excited she had been.

“She was just being polite.” Robin mutters miserably you can tell it’s going to be an all-lunchtime funk, so you busy yourself with picking the orange segments out of your fruit cocktail.

“ …sodomy, suicide and even murder!” You glance up quickly hearing Eddie’s voice ring out from a couple of benches over, the usual gang laughing at his antics as he climbs up onto the table, talking loudly so it carries across the cafeteria. 

“-but - as long as you’re into band, or science, or paaarties -” He sneers surveying the various cliques, before rounding on the jocks, “-or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!” He yells, making the whole cafeteria fall silent. 

You see Jason Carver stand up, looking pissed. “You want something freak?!”

Eddie sticks his tongue out, making devil horns with his fingers, and you can’t hold back the laugh that escapes you, it draws his attention and he winks quickly; shaking your head with a smile as he jumps back down carrying on with his rant the words drowned out by the return of the usual noise.

“Since when did you find Eddie Munson so funny?” Robin asks you suddenly, you realise with a jolt that she’s been watching the entire exchange, you shrug nonchalantly.

“I don’t, it’s just, he's got a point.” You mutter, shoving some fruit into your mouth.

“Mm, fair,” she agrees with a nod “,but not about band though.” she adds quickly, which launches her into another frenetic monologue about band practice tonight and whether she can get Vicki to laugh properly this time.

You zone out completely, eyes on Eddie, who is staring intensely at you as he chews on a pretzel, you raise an eyebrow at him in a silent challenge, watching a grin creep across his face. Biting your lip coyly, you pick up a piece of syrupy fruit with your fingers, tongue laving at the sticky juice running down your hand; it’s a dangerous move so close to Robin, but it’s worth it to see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, you smirk in satisfaction popping the grape into your mouth.

“I’m gonna get rid of this.” You say to Robin, picking up your tray. 

“Yeah, I should get going, I've got “Mrs. Clickity Clackity next period, why didn’t I drop history when Tammy left?” She asks with a groan, handing you her own tray, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Because you’re a glutton for punishment. I’ll see you at 5.” You call as she walks away.

The tray station is just behind Eddie, you can feel his eyes tracking you as you move across the floor, swinging your hips a little, making sure to pick a low shelf knowing that it would give him a flash of your panties as you bent over. Feeling accomplished with all your teasing, you turn to leave only to walk straight into his chest.

“Oh! I’m sorry sweetheart, please excuse me, I didn’t see you there!” He chimes innocently, placing a hand on your hip to steady you.

“Whatever, Munson.” You say coldly, playing up to your supposed indifference towards him, you feel him quickly slip something into the waistband of your skirt with a pointed look, and then the exchange is over. You push past him, adding  “Just watch where you’re going next time, jerkoff.” for good measure, as he bows out of your way.

You wait until you’re back at your locker to read the tiny scrap of paper.

‘16:15, the picnic bench. E.’

The sky was overcast by the end of 8th period, a slight chill in the air making you regret wearing a skirt as you picked your way through the overgrown path to the picnic bench. Funnily enough it was at the bench where you and Eddie had your first proper encounter nearly 3 years ago, you were a clueless frightened sophomore looking for some weed to ease your panic attacks, making covert enquiries the same name had come up each time; Eddie Munson. 

You had approached him tentatively in the corridor unsure how to go about it, tapping him gingerly on the shoulder as he shoved pristine looking textbooks into his locker, he jumped, turning quickly like he was about to punch you.

“Jeeeesus, where the hell did you sneak up from sweetheart?” He gasped, unclenching his fists.

“I-i’m sorry!” You squeaked, taking a step backwards.

“Hey, you’re fine, it was my fault.” He said soothingly.

This was a bad idea, you probably didn’t have enough money, or he’d just laugh at you, or worst of all you’d get caught by your dad.

“You ok?” He asked, reaching a hand out, but dropping it as you flinched slightly “You need something?” He pressed, emphasis on the word ‘something’.

You nodded sheepishly, eyes darting at the passing people in the hall.

“You know where the old picnic bench is in the woods behind the gymnasium?” He asked quietly.

You shook your head, biting your lip, cheeks burning. He sighed pulling a sheet of paper from his locker sketching a crude map for you to follow. “Meet me here after last period, we’ll get you sorted out.” 

Eddie was sitting at the bench when you arrived, a battered tin box open on the table.

“Take a seat.” He offered, you perched lightly, legs jiggling with nervous energy. “There’s nothing to worry about, okay? No one ever comes out here. We’re safe, I promise” He said with a reassuring smile.

“Okay.” You replied quietly, watching with interest as he pulled out various baggies.

“So I'll do you a half ounce for, uh… 20. What do you say? It’s plenty of bang for your buck, should last a while.”

“A half?” You asked, feeling stupid, thinking you’d just be buying some pre-rolled joints.

“Wow, you really are green around the gills huh sweetheart?” He said with a small laugh, but it wasn’t unkind. “Look you can tell me to mind my own business, but, what do you need this stuff for anyways? I mean it’s not meth but a sweet little thing like you, you sure you wanna do drugs? He asked seriously.

“I - i, uh get these panic attacks, thought it might help.” You mumbled pulling on your sleeves nervously.

He nodded in understanding, expression softening.

“Ok well, seeing as it’s your first time and you’ve opted to score from me, an excellent choice by the way,” He said with a grin. “I'll do you a deal; twenty-five percent discount for the half, that’s fifteen bucks.”

“Yes, thank you.” You muttered with a small smile back. “If I give you $25, would you teach me how to make them - please?”

You had spent the next hour with Eddie, watching intently as he rolled joint after joint, telling you about the different kinds of weed, the best papers. Giving you a standing ovation when successfully made your own, even if it was overly fat and wonky, staying with you as you took your first hit with trembling fingers, rubbing your back when you choked on the unfamiliar smoke. You had left the clearing that day promising him to go slow on the supply, and to come back to him when you needed a restock, he would only take $15.

Unlike your first meeting, Eddie wasn’t already there waiting for you. You sit on the tabletop, legs swinging idly, leaning back on your elbows to stare up at the birds flitting to and fro.

You hear the snap of a branch and suddenly Eddie’s face is hovering above your own,standing between your legs, making you squeak in fright.

“Eddie, you fucking psycho!” You shout, trying to punch him but he grabs both your arms hauling you up against him.

“Ah, ah, play nicely sweetheart.” He coos, nipping at your left ear lobe.

“That was a real dick move, you know that?” You grumble still trying to tug your arms out of his grasp.

“You should pay more attention to your surroundings princess, there could be anyone out here. “ He smirks devilishly, so you simply glower at him.

“Aw, now don’t look at me like that baby, especially after that stunt you pulled in the cafeteria.” He warns, mouth descending on your neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You breathe out shakily, trying to stop yourself from pressing forward to chase him, as he pulls away with a disbelieving look on his face.

“Really? That little show and tell you did with the fruit cocktail and the tray, you’re lucky I didn't fuck you there and then.”

You gasp sharply, hips bucking unconsciously at the thought. 

“Such a little slut.” He laughs in awe, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, finally releasing your arms, you immediately tangle your hands in his hair, while he moves to grope at your ass.

“Jesus, I've been thinking about this all day.” He groans, dragging you closer to the edge of the table to grind his pelvis against yours, hissing as you leave a trail of bites along the straining column of his throat. He picks you up suddenly, your legs automatically wrapping around his middle.

“Ed’s I swear to God if you drop me.” You say threateningly, clinging tightly to his shoulders, but he simply sits on one side of the bench, back to the table with you straddling his lap.

“Oh shut up you little brat.” He taunts, pulling on your hair slightly in order to slam your mouth back to his, free hand kneading the flesh of your ass under your skirt; rings sure to leave bruises.

You can’t help but rock your hips, tongues clashing, hands pinching, nails scratching. He breaks apart from you to pull your sweater over your head, eyes sparkling in delight at your lace covered breasts. 

“This is a very pretty bra, baby.” He murmurs, placing a few open mouthed kisses to the pushed up mounds, “I think it matches your panties?” He asks with a smile, you nod wordlessly, feeling his hand go back under your skirt, exploring fingers trailing over the delicate fabric. “Did you put this on for me princess?”

“Yes.” You whine quietly, as he slips the fabric to one side, the chill air making your pussy clench.

“Such a good girl.” He praises, swiping a thick finger through your wetness before slipping into you with ease, making you shift up against him, head buried in his neck. He’s almost cradling you as he works his finger into your soaked cunt, placing kisses anywhere he can reach, murmuring encouragement until you shiver in his arms.

“You cold?” He mumbles, forehead pressed to yours, you nod gently which turns into a whine of protest as his finger slips from your tight heat. Shifting about awkwardly, he slides his jacket off, before helping you into it using the collar to bring you back to his warm lips. “Gotta look after my girl.” 

Your heart skips a beat, my girl, keening softly against his mouth, you unbuckle his belt finding he’s gone commando today, his cock hard in your fist as you pump him slowly but firmly, the tip glistening with pre-cum. He lets out breathy little moans at your touch, before pulling your hand away, hurriedly extracting a condom from his jeans pocket, you play with your clit as he rolls the condom on; both of you staring at the other pupils blown wide.

“C’mere sweetheart.” He pleads softly, holding his cock up so you can sink down, you let out a pained hiss, the stretch at this angle stings, your pussy not used to the intrusion so soon after the last time. 

“Ed’s, i-it’s, ah!” You whimper, nails digging into his back, tears springing in your eyes.

“Slow down baby, it’s ok, I've got you, you’re safe.” He lifts you back up slightly, spitting into his palm spreading some over his cock, the rest he rubs into your cunt, thumb circling your clit as he lets you lower yourself back down at your own pace.

“Oh!” You hiccup, there’s still a stretch but his ministrations on your clit cause pleasurable little sparks that shoot up your spine.

“That’s it sweetheart, nice and slow.” He encourages, his free hand stroking up and down your back, you move with a bit more purpose pulling him in for a needy kiss, as you take his cock fully.

“Oh good girl, shit.” He pants, feeling you seated completely, his spread legs trembling underneath you as he tries to hold back from thrusting straight away. 

“‘M’ok now.” You say quietly, starting to ease yourself up and down, the spit and your own arousal from Eddie’s movements on your swollen clit helping you to glide.

“You sure baby?” He asks.

“Yes, Eddie, please move.” You whisper, and his restraint snaps, hips moving up to meet yours, using his strength to lift you by the ass bringing you back down on heavy thrusts, your arms braced behind you on his thighs. It’s intense, your lips staying connected by a thin trail of saliva, foreheads pressed together, swallowing each other's moans.

“Sweetheart, i’m - fuck - i’m not gonna last.” He chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut tight, teeth clenched in concentration. 

“It’s ok Ed’s.” You say, sucking on his neck with a dreamy sigh. “You can cum.”

"FUCK!" He slams his fist into the wood of the bench, and it's one of the hottest things you've ever seen, his hips pulsing upwards drawing out his orgasm. You move to get off of him but he holds you steady, cock still seated inside you, circling your clit with intent.

"Come on baby, I wanna get you there too." He growls, biting your bottom lip, your body wound too tightly, hanging off the proverbial cliff, hands braced on his chest. "Give into it princess, my sweet little thing." Your eyes snap to his in recognition, harking back to your first meeting, and it takes you by surprise, tipping you over the edge, back arching into his touch as you cum.

You allow yourself to be held, Eddie’s arms smoothing over your thighs and lower back, you press your head into his collarbone and feel his heart racing. 

“That was something else.” He sighs, moving a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile breathlessly, checking your watch. “Shit, I gotta go, Robin’s got practice and I said I’d watch.” You say regretfully.

He nods in understanding, holding your gaze, fingers still tracing over your thighs, before you can stop yourself you kiss him, it’s slow, delicate and filled with a significance you weren’t ready to discuss. You catch yourself, feeling like you’ve just stepped over some invisible line, you practically jump off of him, stripping his jacket off in haste and throwing it to him.

“I’ll call you later.” You shout, jogging out of the clearing, pulling your jumper back on as you go, leaving Eddie half dressed and utterly bemused.

Taglist: @avalon-wolf @eddiemunsonsgf2

[mwebber]

the" look at you doing all that arty shit" marky mark flower photo could be another contender for the horse cock tag, less Explicit, however, Bulge must be considered in this scientific analysis

ON THE STUDY OF HORSE COCK: a Qualitative Analysis of Mark Webber's Bulge

mwebber [1]

Cite this article! mwebber. (2023). On the Study of Horse Cock: a Qualitative Analysis of Mark Webber's Bulge. Tumblr Asks, 9(11), 6-9. https://doi.org/10.420/horsecock

ABSTRACT Mark Webber, 2015 WEC world champion and retired F1 driver, has terrorized the online world with his dick bulge for all the years he has been photographed. Whether this is due to a lack of well-fitting pants, or simply because his cock is massive, remains to be answered. Building on previous academic work by scholars such as @cedobols and @f1rstyasfk, this paper uses grounded theory to analyze the work of Clive Rose, a friend and photographer of Webber. It takes into account primarily the draping of Webber's pants, the shadows, and his stance to examine whether the work should be added to the existing dialogue surrounding Webber horse cock. We conclude that, though the photo demonstrates bulge, it is unfortunately not obvious enough to be added to the horse cock tag specifically. That said, we suggest the work be added to a new academic collection on Webber's love handles.

KEYWORDS Grounded theory, Mark Webber, Women and Gender Studies

➽───────────────❥

[1] Faculty of Sports RPF, Tumblr University, Tumblr, Internet

Corresponding Author: User mwebber, Faculty of Sports RPF, Tumblr University. email @mwebber

➽───────────────❥

In 2016, Mark Webber announced his retirement from motor racing for good, but this announcement didn't mean the end of his relevance to the racing world. With his limited appearances on television, and without the need to wear team-mandated uniforms, Webber began to gain popularity in online circles who'd never heard of him for one thing: his incredible dick bulge. At least, this is how the history goes; scholars such as bom have pinpointed the phenomenon of what is now called "Mark Webber Horse Cock" as beginning in the late 2000s, or indeed earlier (motorkink, 2022). Dutiful academics have taken the time since to contribute to the contemporary discussion around Mark Webber's bulge, and it is in this context that this paper aims to add to the conversation with Clive Rose's recent photographic work from Singapore, 2023. In this paper, we will use grounded theory to examine the photograph from an aesthetic, qualitative angle to answer whether or not it can be added to the seminal works of the Horse Cock portfolio. We will first discuss the existing literature around Webber's bulge, then justify our use of grounded theory. We will then partake in a detailed, critical analysis of Clive Rose's work. Following the analysis, we will discuss our findings to conclude that though the photo demonstrates bulge, it is unfortunately not obvious enough to be added to the horse cock tag specifically. Finally, we suggest avenues for further study and review.

LITERATURE REVIEW

Perhaps one of the most obvious and encapsulating examples of Mark Webber Horse Cock academia comes from this post the author made in early 2022 (multi2-1). To our knowledge, it is currently the only work that has broken containment regarding Horse Cock and attracted a new wave of critical thinking about Mark Webber's penis. Other works exist in Horse Cock literature, namely by acclaimed scholar bom cedobols, who has contributed much to the movement. The author is too lazy to hack it with Tumblr's shitty search engine, so imagine that the rest of the substantial lit review is source: trust me bro.

This project uses grounded theory to examine Clive Rose's work photographing Mark Webber. Conceived in 1967 by Anselm Strauss and Barney Glaser, grounded theory is as much a theory as it is a methodology (Mediani, 2017). It was created to merge quantitative and qualitative research methods (Greon et al., 2017). It is prescriptive, meaning it generates new theories to account for patterns in a study rather than apply existing theories, thus avoiding the trappings and limitations of existing theories and conceptual frameworks (Mediani). There are several reasons why this study does not use pre-existing frameworks to guide the research. Firstly, grounded theory allows for a looser combination of quantitative and qualitative lens with which to examine the data. It allows for the examination of arbitrary things, such as the shadows around a cropped photo of Mark Webber's crotch. Secondly, though this study of horse cock is not new, the field of research studying the relationship between random photos and dick bulges is an emerging field that is only gaining prevalence with advancements in technology. Thus, avoiding the limitations on perspective that come with pre-existing theories is a benefit in providing insight specific to Mark Webber's horse cock that might otherwise be lost. 

Clive Rose's work can be found below. Rose has a prolific portfolio, most notably of beautiful Sebastian Vettel photos, and we thank him for his contribution to our cause (Rose, 2023).

ANALYSIS

First, it is important to isolate the most relevant part of Rose's photo. We have taken the liberty to do so here:

With the benefit of grounded theory, we have identified three key aspects to guide our analysis: the draping of Webber's pants, the shadows, and his stance. First, in examining the draping, we can see that he has pockets on either side. We can also see that the pants fit well; they leave ample breathing room and don't seem to hug his thighs, while simultaneously providing adequate definition to his dumpy, the likes of which we can extrapolate from the front.

Next, let us consider the shadows. They fall most prominently beneath the fold of his right pocket and in the dip towards his left thigh. They are also visible around where his bulge is, in the large crease leading to his right pocket.

Finally, Webber's stance is that of a man on the move, which we can deduce by focusing on his elevated right thigh. We can estimate, based on the rest of the photo, that Webber is walking, rather than running.

DISCUSSION

In our analysis, we highlighted how Webber's pants drape, how the shadows fall over and around his crotch, and his movement in the photo. Based on our analysis, we can reason our way logically through to a conclusive stance on whether or not Rose's photo should be added to the Horse Cock portfolio.

Webber's pockets, namely his right pocket, seems to take centre stage. The way the fabric of his pants drape, in addition to how the shadows fall, leads us to the notion that his pocket is folding as pants pockets do when one walks: outward. Assuming that Webber's pants have a zipper in the front, we can further presume that the front part of his pants are attached along its seam, thus creating the tension that causes his pocket to fold in such a manner.

The pocket seems to be the source of confusion. From a distance, or on a small screen such as a mobile device, the way it folds seems to suggest Mark's dick bulge. However, upon closer inspection, the bulge itself is barely present. As we are debating the merits of adding the photo to works under the horse cock tag, this is what Rose's case hinges on. Thus: we believe the photo should not be added.

CONCLUSION

This paper investigated Clive Rose's recent work from Singapore 2023 to answer the question of whether it should be considered among works demonstrating Mark Webber's dick bulge. It used grounded theory to identify three aspects of the photo we believed were significant: the draping of Webber's pants, how the shadows fell over his crotch, and his photographed stance. Upon analysis and discussion, it found that the photo should not be added to the horse cock tag on the basis of Webber's bulge not being obviously present, and cast blame on his pocket for inspiring hope.

It is a sinister illusion for Horse Cock theorists, but a significant one nonetheless. Negative results, as they say in the research world, are still results. That said, Rose's photo is not without merit, and we propose a new avenue of investigation where it may be relevant, out of the scope of this paper: Webber's love handles.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank the anonymous asked who sent this to my inbox and prompted me to dig out one of my old papers from second year undergrad.

DECLARATION OF CONFLICTING INTERESTS

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article. However, the author would like to request that it never sees the light of day outside Tumblr dot com.

FUNDING

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article. God, don't they wish they received funding for this shit.

REFERENCES

Ames [@multi2-1]. (2022, January 22). actually insane how mark webber walks around when his massive fucking schlong bounces... [Textpost]. Tumblr. https://www.tumblr.com/multi2-1/703853656379899904?source=share

Groen, C., Simmons, D. R., & McNair, L. D. (2017). An Introduction to Grounded Theory: Choosing and Implementing an Emergent Method. American Society for Engineering Education Paper presented at 2017 ASEE Annual Conference & Exposition, Columbus, Ohio. https://doi.org/10.18260/1-2--27582

Mediani, H.S. (2017). An Introduction to Classical Grounded Theory. SOJ Nursing & Health Care, 3(3), 1-5. http://dx.doi.org/10.15226/2471-6529/3/3/00135

[@motorkink]. (2022, January 25). this needs to be included. [Textpost]. Tumblr. https://www.tumblr.com/multi2-1/703853656379899904?source=share

Rose, C. (2023). [Mark Webber walks in the Paddock prior to practice ahead of the 2023 Singapore Grand Prix] [Photograph]. Getty Images. https://www.gettyimages.ca/detail/news-photo/mark-webber-walks-in-the-paddock-prior-to-practice-ahead-of-news-photo/1682058315

[wolfoftheblackflames]

Hello again my misfits. I feel like I've been neglectin' the other ships as of late. So here's one just for you ^^

The Inventor and the Explosive Expert:

It had been a week since Sir Pentious was brought into the hotel. The snake man smiled at his minions as the idiots worked on cleaning his room. "Oh, once you're done with that, I'd like to go into the city for an errand." He stated as Frank saluted.

"Yess sir boss!" The egg replied as he scurried away.

Sir Pentious usually took his blimp, but the thing has been having engine problems. He casually strolled into town since it did feel good to go for a walk every so often. He hummed casually, his head swaying a bit. "Huh?" He blinked hearing an explosion.

"Ha eat shit cock sucker!" A voice boomed as Sir Pentious started to fluff up his frills slightly. He knew the owner of that wonderful Australian accent. Cherri Bomb was seen shoving another bomb into a gunman's mouth and jumping off as it exploded the fool.

The snake demon watched the cyclops in awe. He always loved her brilliant explosive contraptions. He, however, noticed someone trying to ambush her from behind. "Missss Cherri Bomb, look out!" Sir Pentious shouted, alerting the cyclops bombshell.

"Oh, thanks for the heads up, old man!" Cherri grinned as she punched the ambusher. Soon the skirmish ended with the losers running or dead as Cherri laughed dusting herself off.

"Hey Angie did ya get those other fuckers?!" She smirked seeing Angel Dust having a blast with his guns.

"Yep, but looks like there's some more headin' our way!"

"Ah shit, we'd better split up to get those fucks disoriented. I'll meet cha back at your hotel, alright!' Cherri smirked as Angel gave a thumbs up. "C'mon old man!" She grabbed the snake demon to drag him out of the battle zone. But before she could, Sir Pentious dropped a disk like object on the ground.

"What, hey!" He blinked but followed.

"Follow the boss!" Frank ordered as the eggs scurried after the two.

Once out of danger Cherri sighed in relief. "I hate runnin' but those assholes wouldn't quit." She muttered annoyed.

"I left them something fun to deal with for you." Sir Pentious smiled as an explosion was heard. "It's a ssimple contraption but effective when ussed during chaosss." He grinned doing a playful bow.

"Not bad old fart.." Cherri chuckled but hissed softly. The cyclops growled, seeing one of those bullets had grazed her arm. "Fuck.."

Sir Pentious blinked but searched his coat and grumbled. He then smirked, stealing some cloth from an overhang. "Can I wrap your injury, Missy?" He asked as Cherri gave him a 'dafuck' look. "I know you can probably jussst heal with eassse, but I can't sstand by while a young lady iss hurt."

Cherri gave him a skeptical look. "What ever floats your boat edgelord." She shrugged but let him wrap her left arm.

The egg bois yelped as one of them was cracked. "Finally caught up to you fucking bitch!" A bull looking sinner with a shotgun growled with steam coming out of his nose.

"How dare you crusssh one of my minionsss you boob!" Sir Pentious hissed, flaring up his yellow cobra like frills. "Now take thisss!" All his eyes soon emitted a hypnotic trance, forcing the bull to stumble and groan. The snake demon soon slithered over with speed and bit the bull in the neck, injecting the sinner with venom.

"Huh.." Cherri looked amused as the bull sinner started to uncontrollably vomit with Sir Pentious stealing the shot gun.

"A simpleton like you doesn't deserve mercy." The snake demon growled and shot the bull demon sending the sinner flying.

Cherri couldn't help but whistle. "Fuckin' hell mate, didn't know you could handle a gun?" She smirked as Sir Pentious shyly rubbed his neck.

"W-well I wanted to help you... Plus he destroyed one of my many minionsss!" The snake replied being awkward.

"C'mon shit for brains, let's meet up with Angie, eh?" Cherri motioned for him to follow.

The two ran through the back alleyways as soon they didn't have to look far to spy the pink spider demon. "Oh no, Angel Dusst is cornered."

Cherri smirked evilly as five sinners started to close in on Angel. "Got another one of 'em disks?" She asked as Sir Pentious nodded handing her one. "Good cause this is gonna be fun."

With his back against a wall, Angel smirked a bit with his tommy guns out of ammo. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this is the start of a bad porno." He cheekily sneered.

He kept his eyes on the goons so as not to alert them to the duo on the buildings behind them. "Hehe a free fuck with the famous porn star? Sounds fun." One sinner who was an ugly slug moved forward.

"You limp dicks couldn't afford my sexy ass." Angel soon brought out his extra two arms and shot the group back with his fresh guns.

"Eat shrapnel cock suckers!" Cherri laughed maniacally tossing in her bombs with one of them attached to the disk. A row of explosions wiped out the first two while the disk one caused a bigger one to pretty much turn the other three into mince meat.

Sir Pentious watched in awe seeing her using his work. "Impresssive Misss Bomb." He grinned watching Cherri jump down. "O-oh uh... I'll usse the sstairsss.."

The snake demon came down to Cherri, clapping Angel Dust on the back with a grin. "Well fuck, it seems like that hotel hasn't made ya soft yet."

"Hey I'm still down for blasting holes into some fucks head sugar tits." The spider replied retracting his third set of arms. "C'mon bet little miss princess and Vagina are getting their panties in a twist right now." He laughed amused.

Sir Pentious slithered over as his Eggs followed. "Mind if I join you?" He asked giving a friendly toothy smile.

"Eh sure." Cherri shrugged looking at Angel.

"Why the fuck not." The spider also shrugged as the unlikely trio made their way back to the Hotel.

And yes, Vaggie was incredibly pissed about it since it was on the news, and Charlie was just a cute sobbing mess to see they're ok.

(Hope you guys liked this one, it got stuck in my head plus I figured I'd give Cherrisnake a go.)

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 16

Featuring the same characters as Day 12! Not required viewing to understand this one, as it's more their origins. I've placed the story in the UK so apologies for any inaccuracies as I'm an American!

Content warnings for: alcohol consumption, smoking, implied addiction to both aforementioned, drunk driving, motorcycle accident, thoughts of death, and brief suicidal ideation. Stay safe!

Wound Cleaning

He knew he was too far out of it. Too dizzy, too tired, too weak, too drunk to drive back home.

But he’d stumbled to his bike, clutching his side and his cheek, running like a coward. When it roared to life beneath him, he found some forlorn spark of confidence.

Then somewhere on the side streets it had started raining. And in the forest between towns it came down harder. Then-

Fuck, his head hurt. 

Freezing mud clung to him as he rolled over despite the persistent warmth in his chest. When had it gotten so cold? The hazy shadow of his bike lay several meters away, its headlights shining off into the woods, engine still purring into a puddle. His phone was still in the tailpack, he’d call someone to pick him up… or 999… they couldn’t tell him he had it coming. 

A mirthless laugh covered a worse sound as he pushed himself up, dragging aching limbs toward the motorcycle. His left leg was fucking killing him.

A memory of skidding across asphalt, crumbling concrete tearing at skin.

He just needed to grab his phone.The leather bag hanging off the seat wasn’t yet submerged and he let out a sigh of relief, reaching in. 

Empty. Oh god.

“Nonononono…”

A bloody hand plunged underwater, searching until- the phone. It was dripping water from every opening, his fingers slipped against the buttons, pressing frantically as a black screen stared back. 

“Shit! God, no!”

He screamed and flung the useless machine against the ground, collapsing with it into incoherent sobs. If he got back onto the bike in this condition he’d crash somewhere worse. But laying here was a death sentence unless someone else felt bad enough to stop for him.

Ha. Funny. 

Well, if he was lucky… there. His trusty lighter and cigs were still zipped up safely in his pocket, one left in the whole package. Fate was one sexy, sexy man. He’d have to do him a favor in the afterlife if he made it that far.

“Cheers.” To nobody in particular, of course. It took shaking fingers a few flicks to activate muscle memory and spring up a little flame. A long, deep drag soothed his nerves.

Not a bad way to go out. Not bad at all. Tequila would’ve paired nicely with the smoke.

Headlights turned onto the road and he sighed, holding out a forlorn hand. At best, he’d be splashed as they whizzed by. At worst, they’d put him out of his misery. 

Or maybe those two should be switched. Either way, they wouldn’t… stop… but… they were slowing down. And he heard the doors unlock when the vehicle shifted into park. And those lights were making his head pound.

“Bloody hell! Is that you, Payge?”

“Depends who’s askin’,” he mumbled through a mouthful of smoke. “You gonna bring me in to the station?”

“Christ…” They muttered to themself and opened the trunk of their car and pulled something out before walking over. The headlights stayed on, acting as a spotlight. “C’mere, Payge. Can you move?” 

“Nicolai…?”

“The one and only. Come on.”

Nicolai was… how would he describe them? A friend of a friend of sorts. But maybe they were more of a friend, as of late. Did they even live over this way? Where the hell had he ended up?

Payge groaned and pushed himself up, missing a few times and slipping down. Nicolai’s hands reached out to help pull him over. 

“You smell like smoke. And booze.”

“Here. Just a bit, ‘ts my last one.” He offered the cigarette and they pinched it between thumb and index, took a drag, and blew it straight into his face. 

“The hell’s that meant to be?!” Payge coughed.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much.” They handed it back and opened a well stocked first aid kit, picking up a cloth and pouring some water out from their water bottle. “Where are you hurt?”

“You askin’ about the bar fight or the crash?” His words were slurring into each other again. 

“Payge…” they shook their head, concern coloring their features. “I told you to stop fighting.”

“And I wasn’t letting him go home w’thout a shiner.” They stopped arguing and simply stared until he softened. “Got punched in the cheek, thrown around a bit… I think my leg’s bleedin’.”

They brought the cloth to his face first, wiping away grit, and he hissed when they found broken skin over his cheekbone. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a bottle of antiseptic, I’ve just gotta clean you up first. You shouldn’t be riding in this weather in the first place.”

Nicolai moved to his abdomen, touching over the hem of his shirt and a frantic, uncoordinated hand pushed it back down. 

“Stop, you don’t needa… just call an ambulance. You shouldn’ hafta do all this.”

“Nonsense. I can’t leave your side not knowing what happens. Let me help.”

Payge hesitated before relenting, letting them pull up his shirt and inspect the bruise surely forming over his ribs. Once satisfied they moved to look at his legs, but noticed blood dripping down his arm.

“Your hands-?” 

“Just scraped ‘em.”

But they wouldn’t stand for that, taking him roughly by the wrist and cleaning the mud off to reveal harsh scratches from the pavement.

“Other one, Payge.”

“Lemme finish,” he gestured with his half-smoked cigarette.

“Give me that!” Nicolai snatched it right out of his loose grip and snuffed it out, grinding the butt into the pavement before tossing it into the puddle.

“Hey! Wha’s your problem, mate?!” Genuine anger snuck into his voice and Payge finally sat up, grabbing at their shirt and shaking them. “You gotta nother pack’a Marlboros hanging around or what, Nic?” 

A hand shot out and held him by the neck, and his grip dropped away in shock. 

“You’re gonna pass of infection if you don’t let me do my job. Calm the hell down.” The lack of response sounded like resignation, so they cleaned the hand that had now left a stain on their shirt. “Don’t let those touch the mud again, you understand?”

A meek nod. He allowed Nicolai to roll up his pant leg but seethed when torn fibers tugged at the wound.

“I’ll go quickly. Hold your breath.” And they ripped it off as promised, causing a long, drawn out keen. Wow. 

“Th-thank you…”

Something stirred but they swallowed it down.

“Don’t thank me yet.”

A bit more water was poured onto the cloth before working it into the wound, despite jerks and half-aware cries. As the mud was washed away, the severity of the gash became apparent. Though it didn’t cut deep, it was… extensive. They pulled the first aid kit over and grabbed the roll of elastic bandages.

“Bite down on this. I promise you’ll need it.” They held it to Payge’s mouth and he accepted it, fear flashing across his face. “Just focus on that and you’ll be alright.”

A new cloth and a pause to trap his leg with their own, then Nicolai poured the antiseptic directly on the wound. 

“Fuuuuck!” 

They worked quickly, wiping it over and working it into each crevice. They couldn’t be too safe. And the whimpers… A clean cloth bandage wrapped around his calf and they pinned it in place. 

“A hand, please. Whichever I should start with.” They held their palm up, offering the choice, but Payge was still curled into himself. They sighed and grabbed the closest one.

“No, no it hurts too bad!” He cried, trying to speak around the roll of bandages. “Leave it, how it is jus’ leave it…”

The antiseptic didn’t need to be poured in such a volume, but maybe it was their reward for dealing with him.

“Aren’t you drunk? You shouldn’t be able to feel a thing,” they shrugged as he screamed. The only thing that mattered was the way he struggled thoroughly cleaning the wounds. The same routine repeated with his other hand, and they were both bandaged in the same way. 

“Right. Your face.” He flinched away at the soft dabs and the butterfly bandage placed over his cheek. “There. All done.”

“I still… still can’t drive m’self home…”

Nicolai shushed him, scooping his torso off the asphalt to sit him up. They removed his soiled biker jacket, throwing it in the trunk and exchanging it for a few towels. One went over the backseat and the other went around his shoulders when they picked him up bridal style, laying him down gently across the seats. 

“Th’ fuck…?”

“I’m driving you home.”

“But… my bike…”

“I’ll take care of it. After I take care of you.”

[kinopioa]

It's fascinating seeing people go "I miss the wild west era of the internet" and then learn they were born in 2003

Like fuck off. By the time you're 6 it was dead. The cutoff is around 06/7, and even that's debateable to have ended earlier

If we're being brutally honest-

1993-1998: True Wild West. Not much could happen due to limited tech, but it was completely unmonitored. I'm honestly surprised to find archives of old chats on Google

1998: The Coppa act is established, further taking effect in 2000. This made people aware that kids can access the internet. Teens barely gave a shit, though it made corporations more aware of them, and how to consider them for a market. It also unfortunately promoted age fraud to access barred login sites

1999-2005/6: User oriented era. This is when a lot of custom sites, blogs, and forums popped up, as well as many image hosting sites that are sadly defunct now. Google being a popular search engine further encouraged discovering these user made sites. Contrary to popular belief, user sites were mostly made and "moderated" by edgy kids and teens, so you WILL see the opinion of a 14yr old. Incidentally, due to domains being expensive, a lot of these teen made forums and personal sites died extremely fast, ignoring raids, doxxing, and flamewars

Video sharing while possible also was really crappy for quality...except for

User created flash games and anims enabled a massive spread of content. Newgrounds was a popular hosting spot. Shame Flash died

Outside that, we least we got bbphp as a solid forum template be popularized after many other ones died. For those less tech savvy, in 2003

We got social media. This was the main goto till smartphones and Twitter got popularized after 2006, and still was going strong until mid 2010s. Despite older netiquette of being encouraged to not post anything indentifiable about yourself, many users expressed themselves with music tastes and eventual personal blogs

2005/6: YouTube is released, as well as Dailymotion. Bootlegged Newgrounds anims popped up for uploads, but also shared tv show clips

Fun thing, before mid 2010s, users can only upload at max 15min of video

Similarly around 2005, Reddit similarly sparked up. More modern image hosting sites spurred around 2007/8

~~~

But regardless, the public internet already changed massively after 2000. Web 2.0 was already a term from 1999 that described the change, with it being redefined for it occuring around 2004. I think one thing not noticed, the development of this tech mostly happened in the UK, due to general smaller population and faster telocommunication services compared to the US at the time. This similar impacted the type of audience that used this

I see people longing for a freer internet, and I agree online corporate control is shitty. But the dretches of humanity has severely stunted user diversity and interest, same with over prioritizing skill over general good collaboration and behavior. The modern tech bro absolutely not giving a shit for the userbase or societal problems and being very selfish can unfortunately be traced here. Same for rsmpant political misinformation being unmoderated, and early 90s fandom woes still having a negative impact on some franchises

I see dumbass self censoring like "unalive" on sites, and it's not even enforced. It's just stupid assumption that advertisors care so much

Which brings the question, why are we trying to heavily get into monetizing expression? I genuinely feel Ytube enabling users to do so is exactly why user content got obnoxious after 2013 when it got popular. Unfortunately it's way too late to undo that. Many rely on the monetizing

Though I find it funny when people ignore just...making their own site to bypass the censorship. bbphp again is open source, and there are many other online web creation tools. I can't even say the rise of tech illiteracy is why, tech illiterate people aren't the ones complaining of sites crapping out

Anyway, if you miss pre algorithm search engines results leading to you finding random shit, try this;

Unfortunately the reducing of child safe sites is another convo

[andopandor]

Rebound/Be Round

A gay gainer story

---

"He's fucking shallow. Fuck him," Emmett mutters to himself as he downs yet another beer.

The bartender watches the dejected university student sympathetically from behind the counter. With his job, you learn to recognize the characteristic signs of heartbreak. Emmett is a young man of average height, with brown eyes and a bit of a beer belly. Handsome, if a bit disheveled at the moment. At Emmett's request, the bartender dutifully brings another pint.

Emmett gratefully accepts the drink and glances around the bar, hoping that nobody he knows will see him like this. He sees a tall, broad-shouldered man around his age sitting in the corner, messy brown hair and a day's worth of stubble on his jawline. Emmett tries to figure out why the man looks so familiar...

---

Across the room, Jack is drinking after a long day on the construction site. It's Friday, and payday, and he's taken the opportunity to get a little drunk. He looks up and notices a man staring at him from the barstools. Jack also needs a moment before realizing it's Emmett, his best friend from high school. He'd grown some facial hair and a bit chubbier, but he had the same warm eyes and cute face.

Jack stands and finds his way through the crowded bar. When he finally reaches the counter, he smiles widely. "Hey buddy! It's been way too long," he says. "How's life treating you these days? Still studying engineering?"

They had gone separate ways after high school, when Emmett left town for university while Jack continued into trades. They'd kept in touch on social media, but only barely.

Emmett sighs, a sadness in his eyes that's unfamiliar to Jack. "Oh, you know, same old, same old," he says, half-heartedly returning Jack's smile. "Just been buried in textbooks and papers lately." He gestures vaguely at the bar and the beer in front of him. "Needed a break, I guess."

Jack leans in, looking concerned. "Hey, you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I mean, I know it's been a while since we've chatted, but you're still my oldest friend. What's really going on?"

Emmett glances around the bar before finally meeting Jack's eyes. "It's just... things with Mark. He broke up with me."

"Oh," Jack says, surprised. "I'm so sorry to hear that, man. When did that happen?"

Emmett shrugs, looking down at his beer. "A couple of days ago. I thought things were going well, but yeah, no. He was seeing someone else behind my back."

Jack winces. "No way man. You're smart, attractive, funny... He's seriously giving up on the perfect man."

"It's just... he said..." Emmett hesitates, but Jack encourages him to continue. "It's just he said I was gaining too much weight." He takes a long sip of beer, trying to push the emotions back down. "I mean, I know I've put on a few pounds since first year, but come on. I've always been a bigger guy. It's not like I've changed as a person."

Jack's face darkens. "What a piece of shit. You deserve so much better." He puts a hand on Emmett's shoulder. "You know I've got your back, buddy, right?" He looks at his friend thoughtfully, trying to find the right words to comfort him. "Besides, the weight... looks good on you," he finally says, blurting out the words without quite meaning to. "You've always been bigger than the average guy, and it's, uh, it's attractive." He flushes. "I mean, not that I'm into, you know... just... never mind."

Emmett looks up at Jack, slightly confused. He searches Jack's face for any sign of insincerity, but there is none. "Thanks Jack, I appreciate it," he says, eager to move past the awkward moment. "It's just been tough lately, you know?" He takes another sip of beer. "But it's nice to have someone to talk to about it."

Jack nods, thinking. "Hey, I know it's late, but do you maybe wanna grab dinner? We have a lot to catch up on. Besides, you shouldn't be drinking alone at a time like this." He gives Emmett a reassuring smile. "My treat."

"Sure, dinner sounds great... I am getting hungry. Thanks, Jack."

"Great! There's an amazing Italian restaurant just down the block."

They both finish their beers and head out into the cool evening. As they walk to the restaurant, Emmett already begins to look a bit more cheerful. Jack steals sidelong glances at his old friend. He would never say it out loud, but Emmett does seem a lot thicker than he was at their graduation.

---

The Italian restaurant is bustling with activity, the scent of olive oil and garlic filling the air. The men find their way to a cozy booth in the back and glance over the menu, considering what to order. Emmett's stomach rumbles as he reads. Jack pretends not to notice, but assures Emmett that he can order whatever he wants - it's payday after all.

But when the waiter arrives, Emmett only orders a side salad. Finding this strange, Jack orders the Chef's Special, which includes three different kinds of pasta and nearly half a loaf of garlic bread.

Emmett seems shocked by the size of the order. "You sure you can handle all that, Jack?" he asks with a chuckle.

Jack only grins. "Oh, I've got a big appetite tonight, Emmett. And I figure if I don't finish, I can ask a friend for help."

As they wait for their food, they continue to talk and catch up, laughing and teasing each other like old times. For both of them, it had been a long time since they felt this comfortable around someone. Jack hadn't realized how much he had missed Emmett.

Halfway through his meal, Jack pushes his plate away, unable to eat another bite. Emmett had finished his salad long ago. He looks longingly at Jack's plate, still piled with food.

Jack laughs. "Please, help yourself! I'm finished."

Emmett gratefully pull's Jack's plate over, beginning to dig into the delicious pasta. "Thanks Jack," he says between bites. "I haven't been eating much since... well, the breakup. But this food is really good."

Jack leans back in the booth, watching Emmett eat with a satisfied smile. "No worries, buddy. You don't want to waste away just because of that jerk. You deserve to have a proper meal and to feel good about yourself again."

Emmett shrugs, but continues devouring the pasta.

"You know," Jack says, then hesitates. He never would say this sober. But he's not. "I think you're perfect just the way you are. And I'm not just saying that because of what Mark said. One of these days you'll meet someone who appreciates you for you."

Emmett looks up from his food, giving Jack a skeptical look. "Maybe," he admits, "but I doubt it." He sighs. "I mean you're like the only one who thinks that. Too bad you're straight..."

Jack looks into Emmett's eyes, considering. The noise of the restaurant around him fades away.

"Actually," he says, taking a deep breath. "I'm bisexual."

Emmett pauses mid-chew. "Really??"

Jack nods, swallowing hard. "I've never really told anyone. But... you've been honest with me and I wanted to be honest with you." He gently touching Emmett's hand. "I know you're still getting over Mark, and if you're not interested, that's okay. But I just wanted to tell you."

Emmett stares at their joined hands for a long moment, then up at Jack eyes. "I mean..." he trails off, trying to process this information. "I mean I've kind of always had a crush on you , you know."

Jack smiles shyly. He leans in closer. "And I mean it when I say you've gotten so much hotter since we graduated," he says, glancing down at Emmett's belly. "It's really fucking sexy actually."

Emmett feels a blush creep up his neck. He searches Jack's eyes, finding only honesty and desire. He takes a shuddering breath. "You really mean that?" he whispers.

"I really do," Jack says, his voice low and husky. "You're so gorgeous, Emmett. And I've kind of been fantasizing about something." He leans in even closer, whispering. "I wanna feed you."

Emmett nods slowly, strangely excited by Jack's desires. He had always been concerned with keeping thin, but now... a thrill runs through him. "You'd... you'd want to do that? You'd like me.. that way?"

"Yeah," Jack says, touching Emmett's thigh under the table. "I want to see you eat, to see you grow."

Emmett swallows hard, feeling heat pooling in his groin. "Okay," he breathes. "Okay, let's do it." He takes in the surroundings, trying to compose himself. "But c'mon Jack, not now. We're in public."

Jack laughs. "Fine," he says, leaning back. "My place is just a few blocks from here."

---

After Jack settles the bill, Emmett follows Jack back to his apartment. The warmth inside him abates the cold night air. The pasta settles comfortably in his belly, and, for the first time, he isn't worried that he's eaten too much. As they step into Jack's living room, he can't help but notice how it's much cozier than Mark's bleak minimalist apartment.

Jack turns to face Emmett. "So," he says, noticeably excited, "are you ready to eat?"

Jack has never really cooked for another man before, but he's eager to show off his culinary skills. He fries up some bacon and creamy chicken with mashed potatoes. He also throws a batch of chocolate chip cookies in the oven, for good measure. The aromas fill the air, making Emmett's mouth water in anticipation.

"There you go," Jack says, placing a plate in front of Emmett and sitting down across from him.

"Uh... can I get a fork?" Emmett asks.

Jack smirks. "No. That's my job." He uses his own fork to scoop up some food from the plate. "Open wide."

Emmett dutifully opens his mouth and takes a bite of bacon, savoring the taste. It's very tasty, and he can't help but feel pleased knowing that Jack prepared this meal just for him. "This is amazing," he manages to mumble between mouthfuls.

Jack beams. "I'm glad you're enjoying it." He continues to feed Emmett as the chubby man rubs his belly contentedly.

Many bites later, Emmett moans. "Okay, I'm stuffed. I really couldn't eat anymore."

Jack coaxes another scoop of mashed potato in Emmett's mouth. "Are you sure?"

"Seriously," Emmett groans with his mouth full. He pats his bloated stomach. "I'm packed ."

Jack nods. "Okay, fine," he says reluctantly. "You can go lie down on the couch to digest. I'll join you in a minute."

Emmett stumbles into the living room, feeling rounder and heavier than he's ever been. He collapses into the soft couch, stomach aching but satisfied. He releases a belch and massages his belly, unbuttoning his jeans to give it some more room.

Several minutes pass, and Emmett begins to wonder where Jack is. Soon enough, the brawny man comes into the room with a tray of fresh cookies. "I hope you have room for dessert," he smirks.

Emmett knows he shouldn't but... they look and smell so good. "Ughhh," he groans. "Just one, okay?"

Jack settles beside Emmett. God, he looks big, sprawled out on the couch like this. Jack massages the man's hairy belly where it peeks out from above his jeans. With his other hand, Jack gently touches a cookie against Emmett's lips.

Emmett savours the warm soft dough on his tongue. "Alright, this is fucking delicious," he sighs.

"Thanks," Jack smiles. "You know, I just... like taking care of you." He glances up at Emmett and brushes a crumb out of his beard. "I never want to stop caring for you."

Emmett's heart skips a beat. "I don't want you to, Jack," he whispers. He reaches out, tracing a finger along Jack's jawline.

Jack closes his eyes, leaning into Emmett's touch. "Good," he breathes, his voice low and husky. "Because I want to do so much more than just feed you."

Jack moves his hand down the trail of hair leading towards Emmett's crotch, feeling Emmett's dick grow hard against his belly. They lean closer to each other, their lips mere inches apart.

"Show me." Emmett whispers.

The men's lips lock in a heated kiss, desperate from years of pent-up desire. Their bodies press against each other, Jack's sculpted by manual labour and Emmett's swollen with beer and high-calorie food. Jack's hands roam up and down Emmett's shirt, grabbing his lovehandles and playing with his bellybutton.

Emmett moans against Jack's lips, feeling new sensitivity in his engorged gut. Every inch of him tingles with pleasure as Jack's hands explore his figure.

Jack pulls away from the kiss for a moment, panting heavily as he gazes at Emmett's enlarged stomach. He undoes the buttons of Emmett's shirt and tosses it aside. His fingers are cool against heated skin as they trace circles around his navel. And then lower, down the curve of his belly.

"God, you're so hot," Jack murmurs, continuing to tease and touch. His fingers venture lower still, wrapping around Emmett's aching erection. Emmett moans deeply as Jack begins to stroke.

"That's it," Jack whispers. "Let me take care of you." Emmett feels Jack's breath hot against his chest as the man begins to kiss his neck, his nipples, his belly button. All the while continuing to stroke Emmett's cock. He feels about to explode.

Just when Emmett thinks he can't take it anymore, Jack lips are back on his lips, Jack's eyes staring deep into his.

"Cum for me," Jack whispers. Emmett reaches orgasm and shoots over his bloated belly.

Emmett collapses back against the couch, spent and satisfied. He sighs. "That was... amazing."

Jack kisses Emmett again. "We're not done yet."

"We're not?"

Jack laughs. "There are still eleven cookies left."

[oceans-goddess]

Negan x reader pt. 1

Author's note: Guys, I'm sorry, this is so shit. All I've written lately are papers for class, so I just wrote this to get the creative juices flowing. I know its not much, but PART 2 IS COMING AND IT WILL BE FLUFFIER DON'T WORRY!!! Trust the process🙏🙏🙏🙏. I'm planning on having this be a multi-part story because I've been fucking obsessed w this man lately like fucckkkkkk just LOOK AT HIM ARGH anyways let me know if you wanna be in the taglist😘😘

Summary: Female!reader is on her own until she comes across Negan and his men on a supply run.

Warnings: mentions of death, panic attack

______________________________________________________________

Making it this far was pure luck. When the walkers came, I’d been lucky enough to have a father who’d been in the military and could teach me how to shoot. When we had to leave home and live life out on the road, constantly searching for cans of old food, I’d been lucky enough to always come across something to eat. When it got cold, we got lucky enough to find houses with fireplaces and enough firewood to last us the night.

I guess my luck ran out a month ago when a walker fell out of a closet and latched onto my dad’s throat while we were scoping out another house to stay in.

Since then, I’ve been on my own, running out of bullets, out of gas, out of hope. But I had to keep going. He’d been so sure that we would find others. Survivors. People who could help us. I had to find them– to know that his hope wasn’t for nothing. He’d kept a map with him, and we had been driving in a circular pattern, the center being our house in southern Virginia, looking for evidence of a settlement.

So here I was, staying in the master bedroom of a quaint house with a well-stocked pantry, planning out my next steps– with every closet checked, of course. I was plotting out the highway exit I would take tomorrow when I suddenly heard an engine.

A car engine.

People.

I hurried over to the window and peaked through the blinds. Surprisingly, the people in the trucks and vans stopped just a few houses down from the one I was in. Why didn’t they continue on?

Several men climbed out of a large truck– and all of them were equipped with massive guns. I knew that they were likely for walkers, but the sneers on their faces were unnerving. I watched to see what they would do.

Then, a man with a black leather jacket and a barbed bat hopped out of the cab of another truck and began ordering the men in different directions with a wild smile plastered across his face. Anxiety grew in the pit of my stomach.

After a few minutes, his men came back out of the houses nearest to the trucks with arms full of soup cans and furniture. When they were done, he ordered them to continue on in other houses, pointing directly at the one I was in.

My father might’ve been right– there were other people out there– but I never really considered that they might not want to help me. That they might not want me to join them. Not to mention I hadn’t seen a single woman come out of any car...

I needed to get out before they got here.

I dropped to the floor, grabbed my things as quickly as I could, and shoved them into my pack, but before I could stand, there was a bang from downstairs. I heard men speaking, laughing.

My heart racing, I pulled the closet door open as quietly as I could and slipped inside, listening for a moment before I realized where I stood.

I was standing inside a closet, waiting for someone to finish searching the house.

Images of my father bleeding out on the floor surged into my mind. I gagged as I remembered the foul smell that billowed out of that closet when it opened just moments before I lost him. I remembered his screams, and my hands shaking as I shoved a knife through its skull. And then through his when he died.

Tears streamed down my face, and I covered my mouth, choking back sobs. They couldn’t find me. They couldn’t. I could tell these men wouldn’t allow anything to take them by surprise like my father had. They would shoot first, ask questions later.

I heard footsteps as a few men clomped up the stairs. More tears fell. All I could think of were their guns, and my father’s blood; their knives, and him lying there on the floor.

* * *

“It’s a girl, sir.”

Negan raised a brow.

“A girl? In the house? Alive?”

“Yes, sir. She was hiding in a closet upstairs, crying.” The leader of the Saviors hummed in reply, and stood thinking for a moment.

“Should I… should I bring her out here?” his subordinate asked. He only waved a hand in response and walked toward the house.

Inside, men looked at him with wide eyes and confused expressions. One man-- Nicholas, he believed his name was-- walked up to him and explained that the girl wouldn’t move from the closet floor.

Upon reaching the master bedroom, more of his men bombarded him with dimwitted statements.

“Sir, she won’t move."

“She just keeps crying.”

“Alright, alright, guys. Honestly, it is just a girl. I’m sure you’ve seen one before, so fucking relax,” he said with exasperation in his voice. He stopped when he heard a sniffle from the closet, then walked over and peered inside.

Though Negan wasn’t known for his big heart, he was sure his broke a little when he saw the young woman that sat before him. 

* * *

“All of you, out. Now.”

That was all the man in the leather jacket had to say for the room to become empty again, save for the two of us. I was still on the floor, my chest heaving, my hands shaking.

The man squatted in front of me, bat in hand. It was chipped and cracked in several spots, especially at the head. In the blemishes, I swore I saw faint splotches of red. I thought I would vomit.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said, in a voice that sounded as if he was speaking to a cornered animal. In a way, I suppose, he was.

“Are you alright? Why are you crying? You hurt?”

I inhaled, meaning to respond, but all I could manage was another weak cry.

The man cocked his head to the side a bit, then looked down at the bat in his hand, realizing what was the matter. He tossed it behind him onto the bed, then turned back to me and raised his hands and continued.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget I’ve even got her in my hands... I’m Negan. What’s your name, doll?”

With the bat out of sight, it was a bit easier to concentrate on his hands, his face. Though he looked quite rugged, with a shaggy beard and thick eyebrows, his brown eyes were soft, inviting.

“Y/n,” I whispered after a moment. My voice was hoarse, and I let out a cough. He sat down fully on the ground and crossed his legs.

“I’m sorry, can you say that one more time? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Sorry… It’s-- it's Y/n,” I repeated, wringing my hands together as I spoke. He smiled.

“Y/n. What a beautiful name. It suits you, it really does. Look, I’m sorry we scared you, sweetheart. Is this your house? We didn’t know anyone was here when we came in.”

I shook my head.

“No, this isn’t my house. I was just passing through.” The man, Negan, nodded.

“Are you by yourself, honey?”

I hesitated. He put his hands up again.

“I promise, we don’t wanna hurt you. We were just lookin’ for supplies to take back with us.” My eyes widened as I recalled what I had been thinking when Negan’s trucks first arrived on the street. This could be my chance to escape the world my father hadn’t been able to. This is what he would have wanted for me, I knew it.

“I… yes, I’m alone. I have been for a while now.” A short whistle sounded from Negan’s lips. 

“You’ve been surviving out here all on your own? That’s fucking badass, I hope you know that.”

I smiled shyly, looking down at my lap and sniffling.

“Hey, have you eaten in a while?” he asked. “We’ve got a few sandwiches, apples, some sodas, down in one of the trucks. I’m sure we could spare some for you if you’re hungry.”

“I don't wanna take your lunch–”

“Aw, don’t worry about it, doll. There’s plenty extra. But I appreciate you bein’ so considerate,” he explained, finishing with a smile. He must’ve known he was making progress with me. I wiped my eyes a bit.

“C’mon, let’s go grab you something to eat,” he said, standing up and holding his large hand out to me. Looking up at him from where I sat, I could imagine how meek I must’ve looked– how embarrassingly harmless. But looking up at him stirred something in me. His confident half-smile, his slicked back hair-- his entire persona was so charming, so comforting.

I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me up with ease before grabbing his bat and leading me downstairs.

* * *

“You feel like having another?” Negan asked as I finished my second peanut butter and jelly. We sat in the dusty cab of the truck he’d come in, and he tapped his fingers rhythmically on the steering wheel while watching me eat. I shook my head.

“No, I’m okay, thanks,” I responded. The bed of the truck shifted up and down as men piled boxes of supplies into it. If they needed this much stuff, I thought, there had to be a ton of people where they came from that were planning to use it. With that in mind, I cleared my throat to ask the question I’d been gathering the guts to ask since I’d sat down.

“Negan,” I began, and he hummed. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything you want, honey,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. I blushed and looked away, then carried on.

“You said you were taking the supplies back with you…”

“Mmhmm,” he grunted, gently urging me to continue.

“Back to where, exactly?” I whispered. He twisted to face me more in his seat.

“We’ve got sort of a compound set up,” he explained. “It’s not too far from here. It’s got fences, walls. Lots of people, and plenty more food to go around.”

All this time, my father had been right, and then some. People weren’t just surviving out here in this world– they were thriving.

“Do you… have any extra space?”

Negan laughed heartily.

“For you, doll? Abso-friggin-lutely.”

I nodded.

“So I can… I can come back with you?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’d love to have you come back with us, y/n. Can’t leave a pretty thing like you with them ugly sons of bitches, now can I? You’d be much more protected there than you are here, I can tell you that.”

* * *

About an hour later, Negan sent a grumbling Dwight to find a new seat in another truck and was driving back to the compound with y/n in the passenger seat.

She was a cute little thing, he’d decided, and he’d been watching her shamelessly since he’d brought her outside. Her teary, guarded eyes, her cute little pout, everything about her was fucking adorable.

Although, he was also amazed at how long she’d held up out here. People like her, people who hid and cried instead of standing and fighting, those people were pretty much gone by now. How had she made it this far?

He struck up a polite conversation, asking questions here and there. There had to be some explanation for how she’d survived for all this time. After a few minutes, though, it was clear that the questions were making her nervous. His curiosity about her was eating away at him as he drove– he was used to getting answers faster than this. But he supposed he could wait this time.

The sweet girl beside him sat silently for the rest of the drive, and though the questions piled up in his mind, Negan was smiling.