#dunno if I ever posted the jerk here

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 3

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Part 2 here // Part 4 here

Warnings: 18+, negan masturbating, negan being all sweet and protective

A/n: I thought this would be the last part, but it was so long I had to break it up. Part 4 will be posted soon!

Negan’s POV: 

I waited all night for her but she never came. Hopping back on my bike, I drove back to the sanctuary the next morning. I spent the next few days drinking in my room and missing her. Trying to give her space was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 

Two of my wives came to check on me, and I rudely dismissed them. And told them to kick rocks, for good. I wouldn’t even be able to get my dick up with anyone else but her. This girl has me wrapped around her goddamn finger and I don’t even know her name. 

I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and imagined her face. Our night together. How I fucked her through her little shorts. I imagined her lips between mine and the little sounds she made as she scratched my back. Fuck. 

I rubbed myself through my pants, imagining myself between her legs before I got impatient and pulled my cock out. I spit in my hand and began stroking it, focusing extra on the tip. My head pressed against the couch and I groaned, jerking my dick faster. Fuck, fuck fuuuuck. 

"Boss, we've got a problem." Fucking Simon. 

Tucking myself back in my pants, I walked over and flung the door open, clearly annoyed with an extreme case of blue balls. We walked towards the back exit quickly while Simon filled me in on the situation. 

“Rick and the rest of them are outside." Simon explained. "He said he only wants you.” 

“Of course he does.” I chuckled before walking out onto the balcony. “Well, what a nice surprise. This better be good Rick. I was right in the middle of something.”  

Her silky black hair caught my attention almost instantly and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She stood beside Rick and my heart sank for two reasons. I couldn't let her get hurt in the middle of all this. And what the hell was she doing? She couldn't seriously want this.

I leaned next to Simon's ear and whispered. “Make sure everyone knows that one is off limits." I nodded towards my girl. "If anyone harms a hair on her pretty head, it'll be the last thing they ever do."

Your POV, earlier that day: 

“We go in quick, and we don’t leave until Negan is dead. Understood?” Rick’s voice sounded far away and I realized my mind had been wandering the entire time, not able to concentrate.. Or accept Rick’s plan for Alexandria to go after the Saviors. I couldn't lose someone I...

Care about… again. 

“Y/n?” Rick asked, tilting his head at me. 

“Yes, understood.” 

The ride over took ages it seemed like. My head rested against the window of the truck while I watched the sun slowly start to disappear. I should be thrilled. This is what I’ve wanted for so long - to get revenge. 

So why did I want to save him?

“I dunno if I can do this.” Daryl’s focus remained on the road as I spoke. “I know you don’t understand it, but there’s good in him. I’ve seen it.”

Daryl scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“I just don’t wanna see anyone else die, Daryl.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Some people deserve it.”

“And we don’t? Think about all the ones we’ve killed.”

“Not the same.” Daryl mumbled. 

“But it is. That’s the world we live in now. We do what we have to to survive. We’re all… psycho murderers, really.”  

“Listen to yourself. What do you think Glenn would think about you defending the man who killed him?” 

I sat quietly for a few moments, focusing my attention back on the clouds. “I think he’d be proud of me.” The gravel suddenly rumbling beneath the truck let us know we were getting close to the sanctuary and Daryl pulled over, parking near the others. 

“You’re either with us, or ya aint. But you need to hurry and decide.” Daryl warned before he quietly exited the truck and met up with the others ahead. 

I owe them for everything they’ve done for me. Everything they did for Glenn. I closed my eyes before hopping out of the car and quickly caught up with the rest of the group. Daryl gave me a nod and the rest of the tread was quiet. I tried focusing my mind on anything but Negan, disassociating to the best of my ability - a skill I’ve perfected over the past few months. 

“Negan needs to surrender. This has to happen now. This is the only way.” Rick’s voice rang through my ears as I stood near him, shielding myself with the metal that stood between us and the Saviors. Peeking out, I watched Negan appear behind the railing, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips.

“You’re gonna make me count?!" Rick shouted. "Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10….”

Negan eyes traveled to mine and his gaze softened. I stared at him, silently begging him to surrender while Rick counted. He studied me as if he wondered if I wanted this. 

Of course not. Surrender, goddammit. 

I watched him lean over and whisper something to Simon while his eyes were still on me. Simon nodded and took out his radio, signaling something to the others that I couldn't hear. 

The sound of Rick's gun cocking distracted me, and without thinking, I jumped in front of him, pulling the gun with with me. A bullet went straight through my foot, but I barely felt it.

I heard Negan cursing in the background amongst all the other chaos transpiring. Walkers were filing in now and everyone eventually scattered. I limped as quickly as I could, trying to escape before my feet lifted off the ground. I quickly realized it was Negan and he rushed us to an empty trailer nearby, shutting the door behind him when we made it inside.

“Oww.” I groaned, limping over to the wall and sliding down it. I pulled off my bloody sock and shoe and cringed at the bullet hole in my foot. The pain was starting to set in now.

“Shit.” Negan grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet above and kneeled down, wrapping my foot. “The hell were you thinkin' darlin'?.”

He looked up at me, slightly grinning and I rolled my eyes. He finished wrapping it up, kissed my forehead, and sat next to me on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. His hand rested on my thigh protectively and I wanted to reach for it and hold his hand but I couldn’t. We both sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke.  

“You never came. I waited on you all night.” 

My heart ached at the thought of him there alone. “I told you, Negan. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“Yet.. you just took a bullet for me.” I could hear the cocky smile through his voice. 

“Why did you want to meet?” I asked.

“I guess I thought maybe if we went back to our place, you’d see me differently. The way you did that night, and I’d actually have a chance to win you over.”

When I looked over at him, I saw the man he was that night. Before I knew his name and all the horrible things he had done. I replayed everything in my head - the steam from his shower, our deep talks about our old high school days, his wife Lucille and how her death broke his heart, and how he read to me. And then I remembered him in between my legs, but stopping before it got too far because we were both tipsy.

How could the same man who bashed someone's skull in be the same one the had enough decency not to take advantage of a woman? I wanted so desperately to believe in the man he was that night - for that to be the only version of him. 

“Listen baby, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have." His voice was lower than usual when he spoke. "I get that you don’t wanna see me anymore and I’ve gotta learn to be okay with that. I don’t want to be a constant reminder of your brother’s death.” He leaned his head against the wall. “Fuckin' stupid of me to think this could ever work, huh?” 

With every word he spoke, my heart broke into smaller pieces. If Negan would have died today, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for not going back to the cabin and meeting him that night. As difficult as our life would be together - for so many reasons, I can’t live without him. 

“Negan..” 

“Yeah?” His hazel eyes met mine and he looked like a sad puppy that I desperately wanted to comfort.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”

He nodded, clearly hurt and I watched his eyes fill with tears before he looked down. 

I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say. “But I love you. And I want to find a way to make this work.”

His eyes darted back and forth between mine before his hand cupped my face and he kissed me all in one motion. I've missed his lips so much. His mouth was gentle, like he was scared to break me, but I wanted him to, so I pulled him closer and opened my mouth slightly. His tongue slipped in and collided with mine, making me see stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against mine. 

“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. I’ll never disappoint you again.”

“I know.” And I did. I believed him. Gunfire in the distance quickly snapped us back to reality but we held each other, neither of us willing to let go first.

"Negan, I've gotta go back with them."

"No. Stay with me at the sanctuary until we figure out a plan? I'll take care of you and-"

"We can't. You can't stay here, Negan. It's not safe, they'll come back for you. Rick won't stop until you're dead."

"Then I'll kill him first, doll. Simple."

"No. You're not killing anyone else - none of my people. I can't lose anyone else. The only way everyone survives this is if you surrender."

Negan scoffed. "And then what? Be a goddamn prisoner and Rick's little bitch for the rest of my life? Not gonna happen, darlin'."

I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

"Hey, you're not giving up on me already are you?" Negan's hand rested again my cheek as he urged me to look at him.

"No.. no, I just, I dunno what to do."

"We've got all night to figure it out, doll. We don't have many options. There's no way you're going back to Alexandria on that foot. Come on." Negan stood, holding his hand out to me and I took it. "Stay close behind me, baby."

I nodded, gripping the back of Negan's shirt as he kicked the door open, flinging a few walkers in the process. I helped as much as I could, stabbing a few with my knife as Negan worked our way through the crowd.

Luckily the sanctuary itself seemed untouched. The walkers were only outside in the yard while a couple of guards secured the entry to the sanctuary doors. They opened them quickly as Negan and I tumbled in. His hand wrapped around my waist, helping me walk with my hurt foot.

We could hear Simon and the others around the corner. Turning the corner, Negan whistled his favorite tune and I watched in awe as the rest of the saviors bowed before us.

"I bet you all thought I was dead, huh?" Negan chuckled. "Here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have -“ He paused, leaning into you. "Hell’s your name darlin’? You never told me.” You whispered your name in his ear and giggled. He turned back to the saviors, finishing his speech. "I have y/n, and my nut sack? Is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready."

What a dork. My dork. I thought, looking up at him as he spoke.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a honeymoon to get to. No one knocks on my door. Simon, you're in charge. Don't make me regret it."

Simon nodded and Negan lead us down the hall to a large door at the end. He held the door open for me as I walked through. A bachelor pad of the apocalypse. Exactly what I imagined. I smiled at him and he returned the gesture, flashing his white smile before he walked towards me and immediately wrapped me in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I felt his heart beat. For once, I felt safe.

Part 4 here. If you’ve read this far, thank you. 🥹💗

tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Bowser Castle 2 Debut: Super Mario Kart

Oh no! We didn't have a post ready for today! Well let me improvise one for you really quick. Because I love you. Don't take it too personally, though, we're not here to start parasocial relationships with our followers! Sorry. I hope you understand.

This is Bowser Castle 2, from Super Mario Kart, but if I named it I'd call it Bowser Castle POO! Because it isn't very good.

Many people consider this one of the worst courses in Mario Kart history, and many people would be right! You see, iconic Bad Guy King Morton "Bowser" Koopa Sr. wanted to prove his Bad Guy status by creating a Bad Course, and boy howdy did he! He probably feels so smug about it. Jerk.

Look at that map. This course has a dead end on it. This might be the only course in Mario Kart history to do such a thing! It's possible you can use a Feather to turn that into a shortcut, but I've never pulled it off. But also I'm not very good at this game, nor am I interested in becoming good at this game, so it might just be a skill issue on my part.

But getting past the dead end offers you no reprieve, as afterwards you have to deal with this mess! It feels like they're trying to make some sort of double-loop formation, but all the 90 degree turns combined with the bridge connecting the loops being at the top ends up making it play very awkwardly. Or something like that. Listen I'm just writing this post in a stream of conscience, I dunno how to describe what's so bad about this beyond "it's bad."

luigi enters the torment labyrinth

As you can probably expect, having "being the worst Mario Kart course ever made" on its resume hasn't done good things for SNES Bowser Castle 2. The only game it's returned in is Super Circuit, which included literally every SNES course, which is to say it was not getting any sort of special treatment. Even Mario Kart Tour, a game which literally invented new SNES courses for the sake of getting more content out of existing assets, refused to bring Bowser Castle 2 into its arms.

Is there any hope in this world for an absolute dogwater course like this one? I dunno but that's not gonna stop me from coming up with hypothetical solutions. Yes this is the kind of thing I think about in my spare time! Don't judge me!

Really, for all I've been dunking on this course in this post, I don't think it'd actually take all that much to get this into a playable state. As you can see, I've re-envisioned the dead end as a shortcut (likely blocked off with a wooden cutout so you need to use a mushroom), and I've reimagined the Torment Labyrinth as a double roundabout configuration à la Wii Rainbow Road. After that I just smoothed out some turns, added a glider ramp at the end so you have something to do during the last straightaway, and envisioned some totally awesome elevation changes that can not be displayed from a bird's-eye view like this, and bam! I created a version of this course that could potentially maybe be enjoyable.

I mean I dunno. I don't have the means to play it.

I drew this earlier this morning and it's the entire reason I've decided to make this our spur-of-the-moment post. I hope you're proud of me. For what it's worth, at least SNES Bowser Castle 2 can theoretically be made into a somewhat enjoyable course. It's not like it's stuck with a name like "Figure-8 Circuit" or something.

[foggieststars]

sex pollen + overstim and/or denial for landoscar queen?

"Jesus fuck," Lando says, and Oscar glares at him with baleful eyes. Lando takes affront to that. If anything, Lando reckons he's sort of underreacting to the whole, finding his teammate slumped nearly-unconscious outside the door of his flat, thing.

"Are you - I mean. Y'alright?" Lando asks, heartbeat loud in his ears. Oscar's got sweat pouring off him, like he's just finished 62 laps of Singapore. His hair's clumped together with sweat, stringy and

"Of course I'm not alright," Oscar snaps, and - that’s new. 

Lando blinks, unsure what to make of Oscar like this. It’s the most tense Lando’s ever seen him - the most genuinely irritated. Even after Carlos took him out of the race in Spa last year, the most emotion Oscar had shown was the tightly clenched fists in his lap during the debrief. Seeing Oscar like this… it’s an uncomfortable display of vulnerability. 

“What’s happened to you?” Lando asks, reaching out to offer Oscar a hand. “Why are you–?” here, he doesn’t say. Figures it’d be rude. Make Oscar think he’s like, unwelcome or something. 

“I dunno,” Oscar says, breathing heavily. “I was opening some fucking - oh, fuck,” he says, doubling over. Lando fumbles in his pocket for his keys, unlocks the door with clumsy, trembling hands. “I was opening some fanmail, for some stupid fucking video, and one of them had all this powder in it, and it got all over my hands, and I started feeling - like this.” 

“Oh, christ,” Lando says, mind whirring. Can people send, like, drugs in the post? Drugs that only need to touch your skin to activate? Lando tries not to panic too obviously, wants to stay calm for Oscar. Who’s crawled here, for some reason. 

“Fuck, Osc,” Lando gnaws on his lip, shutting the door behind them. When he reaches out to steady Oscar, swaying on the spot, his skin is searingly hot to the touch. “I reckon you need to go to the hospital, mate.” 

“Dunno where it is, do I?” Oscar snaps. “And besides. I don’t think… I don’t think I need a hospital. Not for this.” 

Lando nearly shrieks, panic turning his hands clammy. “Oscar, you just told me that you - that you’ve touched some random fucking powder, and now you’re here, sweating buckets on my doorstep. Of course you need to go to the hospital!” 

Oscar lurches dangerously to the side as Lando’s speaking, and Lando reaches out to grab him. One hand finds Oscar’s forearm, pulls him in close to his body. The other hand lands on Oscar’s waist, trailing around to his stomach. 

“Oh,” Oscar moans, swaying into Lando this time. 

“What hurts? Your stomach?” Lando babbles, scrabbling with the hem of Oscar’s top. “It might be your appendix or something, you know?” 

When he gets Oscar’s top up, exposing the smooth expanse of his stomach, Lando presses his hand to it. He doesn’t know what the fuck he thinks he’s looking for - like he’ll be able to feel Oscar’s appendix about to rupture - and then Oscar makes another noise. It’s low and sharp and unmistakably aroused. 

“Osc?” Lando probes, and then Oscar’s doubling over, moaning louder, and his hips - well, oh Jesus, he’s fucking forward into the air, like he’s got his cock in someone. 

The movement continues for what feels like forever, but is probably no longer than ten seconds, and then Oscar slumps over, like a marionette with its strings cut. 

“Oh my god,” Lando says, hating the way his voice has gone all high-pitched. “Did you just–?” 

Oscar groans, still bent double at the waist. “‘M sorry,” he grits out, voice hoarse. His cheeks are stained pink. “Fuck, Lando. I’m so sorry.” 

“When you said - when you said you didn’t need a hospital…”

Oscar looks at him, eyes shining. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and nods. “Ever since I touched that stuff - I don’t know. I just - I can’t stop.” 

Lando’s brain goes offline at the mental image of Oscar, alone in his flat, jerking himself off frantically, again and again and again. 

“And - so. You came here?” Lando queries, voice tremulous. 

Oscar looks at him with a pained expression. “I want. Will you - help?” 

Lando feels like he’s teetering on the precipice of something massive. There’s been tension between them since Oscar arrived. Lando never acted on it. He’d sworn to himself - this would be the teammate he doesn’t let fuck him. Oscar’s always respected that unspoken decision; never pushed too hard, never made so much as the tiniest of moves. Even though Lando knows he feels it just as urgently - the intangible thing shimmering between them. Seems like Oscar’s finally reached his breaking point. 

Lando steadies himself with a deep breath. “Alright, Oscar. I’ll help.” 

*

Five minutes later find them in Lando’s unmade bed, shirts off, Lando fiddling with the drawstring of Oscar’s shorts. Shorts - in December. Lando barely resists the urge to tease him about it, thinks it might be just too much for Oscar right now. 

When he finally gets them down around Oscar’s ankles, Lando doesn’t feel much like joking any longer. 

“Fuck, Osc,” Lando says, looking down at the mess. “You came so much.” 

His cock is an angry shade of red, so hard it’s resting against his stomach. There’s a mess of drying come in Oscar’s boxers, a testament to how many times he’d gotten himself off before coming to seek out Lando’s help. It must hurt. Lando’s never come this many times in one session - not even when he was a horny teenager with no refractory period. 

Oscar pants, arm thrown across his eyes, nods. Didn’t even bother to clean himself up. Needed it that badly. 

“How many times did you–?” 

Oscar makes a quiet noise, like he’s embarrassed to admit to it. “I - Lando,” he rasps, hips hitching as Lando takes his hot cock in hand. It’s pulsing gently, weeping pre-come when Lando thumbs over the tip.

“Come on,” Lando pushes, unsure why he can’t resist the urge to tease. Why he never can. “I won’t tell anyone. Swear.” 

Who’s Lando gunna tell, exactly? Max wouldn’t even believe him. 

“F-four,” Oscar says, moaning when Lando twists his wrist. “Lando, fuck, I’m - so close.” 

“Already?” Lando asks, laughing despite himself. “I’m not even - oh.” 

That’s all it takes to have Oscar spilling all over Lando’s hand, hips kicking into the air. It’s scorchingly hot. 

“Jesus,” Lando says, and Oscar throws his other arm across his face too. Like if he buries himself deep enough, this will all go away. “I barely even touched you!” 

“I know,” Oscar says, seemingly more lucid immediately post-orgasm. “It - the powder shit. It doesn’t take much to - y’know. Makes everything feel… louder.” 

Alright, maybe not so lucid after all. 

“Does it hurt?” Lando asks, and Oscar nods. Doesn’t seem to stop his cock filling up again, straining with desperation. Oscar finally brings his arms down from his face, more flushed than ever. 

He’s so - vulnerable, like this. Like Lando could do anything to him, anything at all, and he’d just lie there and shudder through it, small, bitten-off moans spilling from his mouth. It’s a thought that shouldn’t turn Lando on as much as it does. 

Lando gets Oscar off again with his hands, once with his mouth. Oscar starts fully crying when Lando sucks on the head of his cock, and Lando’s never really been one to get, like, turned on by tears, but - well. It’s Oscar, so. 

“You okay?” Lando asks, sitting up, wiping off his chin. “I don’t wanna like, hurt you or nothing.” 

“It’s just - it’s a lot,” Oscar hiccups, chest heaving. “Feels so - I dunno how to explain. I’m all… tingly.” 

Lando finishes him off, sits back on his heels to give Oscar a short break. He leans forward, rests the back of his palm on Oscar’s forehead. It feels absurdly domestic - weirdly maternal, actually - but he’s even hotter than before, if anything. 

“I don’t know if this is helping,” Lando says, watching Oscar ball his fists into Lando’s duvet, trying not to hump the air. “You’re like, properly burning up. Should I call someone?” he hesitates. “Mark?” 

“No!” Oscar practically shouts, hands flying up to grip Lando’s wrists, like he’s in any fit state to physically wrestle a phone out of Lando’s grasp. Like Lando would even have Mark’s number saved. He’d have to call Jenson probably, and then that would be a whole thing. “Not Mark. Not - okay.” Oscar blows out air, ruffles his fringe. “I think. I think you’re gonna have to…” 

Lando raises his eyebrows, not following Oscar’s deluded train of thought. 

Oscar groans, half-twists his body to bury his face in the pillows. He takes a couple of deep breaths, and Lando watches the muscles in his back twitch and flex. 

When Oscar rolls back, he’s calmer. More measured. And then, as if it’s normal, as if this is something teammates do with each other all the time, he plants his feet into the mattress, and spreads his legs.  

“Oh,” Lando says. His cock, already half-hard, jumps to attention so quickly Lando feels briefly dizzy. “Oh, right. Fucking hell.” 

“Only if you want to,” Oscar says, voice trembling. “I know it’s - I’m sorry. I know this is fucking insane.” 

“If I want to,” Lando echoes, feeling vaguely hysterical. Maybe he’s the drugged one. Maybe Max thought it would be funny to slip something into his drink last night, and all this is just one long, horny fever-dream. 

“Yeah,” Oscar says, in a voice that betrays his barely-suppressed panic. “Lando? Can you - oh, god. Say something, please?” 

“Are you - fuck, Oscar. I mean. Are you sure?” 

Oscar nods desperately, the movement ruffling his hair. “Please, Lando. I came to you for - for a reason,” he gulps. And then, softly, almost begging – “Please.” 

It’s so hot Lando almost sees stars. “Alright,” he says after a moment of indecision. “Alright, Osc. I’ve got you.” 

The relief on Oscar’s face is almost enough to make Lando feel guilty, that Oscar thinks Lando’s the one doing him a favour. Like he hasn’t been gagging to stick his dick in Oscar since that first day in the MTC. 

Lando fumbles for his hand, threads their fingers together, gives Oscar’s hand a tight squeeze. “‘M gonna make it go away, Osc, I swear.” 

Oscar gasps at the sensation, banal and sexless as a squeeze of the hand is. He needs it. He’s sore from overstimulation, gasping whenever Lando so much as brushes his cock, and yet he’s still begging for it, desperate to be touched. 

Oscar smiles at him, so sweet and polite. “Thank you,” he says, and Lando loses his grasp on reality. 

[ghostboneswrites2]

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ A Mess ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

About: Your husband wasted no time getting his dick wet after the world ended. When you catch your adulterous husband in the act, you find an unlikely companion in Daryl Dixon.

Pairing: Reader!Walsh x Daryl Dixon

Era: Quarry -> Pre-Alexandria/Post-Terminus

Genre/Vibe: TWD typical things, Drama, Romance, Eventual Smut, Survival, Apocalyptic/Dystopian

Warnings: TWD typical violence, spoilers, character deaths, profanity, eventual smut, attempted SA, loss, grief

18+ MDNI

Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

'•.¸♡ Teasers ♡¸.•'

╰┈➤        "I'm confused." Andrea spoke up. 

        "Oh, allow me to clarify." You smiled, sickeningly sweet. Lori shook her head at you, but you ignored her. "Shane, my husband, and Lori, have been keeping a secret from us. Care to share with the class?"

        "(Y/N), man, come on. Why you gotta start problems?" Shane let out an exasperated sigh.

        "No? Okay, allow me to speak on your behalf, then. My husband has been fucking Lori, who, if you guys weren't aware, is married to Shane's best friend, who he claims is dead." You said.

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤        "I don't ever wanna catch you near her. Ya hear me? You so much as breathe too heavy in her direction and I'll fuckin' kill you. Ya got that?" Daryl got closer and closer to Shane's face with every word. When Shane didn't answer him; "I said do ya fuckin' understand the words that are comin' outta my mouth?"

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤       "You don't have to watch over me. I can take care of my own shit." You assured him.

        "I know." He said. You felt something warm wrap around your hand. You looked down and it was his own hand, laid over yours, fingers cupping under your palm lazily. 

        "What are you doing?" You asked, looking over your shoulder to him.

        "Dunno. Keep singin'." 

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤ He massaged you on the inside without ever losing his pace with his tongue. By this point you weren't even moaning anymore, you were blatantly whining. It was almost torture -- it felt so good. The pressure was just enough to keep you on edge, to build up that feeling in your stomach that spread all over, but not quite enough to get you there, not yet. He slipped another finger inside. Your lower half started buzzing, legs trembling as your hips jerked and twitched. You were getting so close.

[pixiemage]

So do you ever, like - accidentally get inspired to create a whole AU based on an old Tumblr text post, and you know you can't add it to your actual fic list because your existing WIP's are waiting for you, but you end up writing a snippet of it anyway? Yeah. Yeah, me too.

Jimmy knows he's not fully with it when he walks into the villains’ bar this time. He has a new name on his list from Make-a-Wish - Supreme this time - and he's only halfheartedly searching the by-now-familiar faces for the person he needs to talk to. He's not registering much of anything though, and it becomes apparent when two people step in his path and he doesn't notice until he's almost running into them. It's Joel, and it's Tango - Trickster and Phoenix - and the expressions on their faces are different flavors of the same thing. Anger, maybe, but not at Jimmy, simmering below the surface in Tango's case and being held back by a tense jaw in Joel's. And concern too, he thinks, concern and sympathy and- "Hey Songbird," Tango greets him, sounding just to the left of the normal fond tone he uses when he sees Jimmy. "How're you holding up?" "I...sorry?" Jimmy blinks, not quite understanding, and Joel casts a glance around the bar before settling back on Jimmy. "We heard about Mercy." Mercy - oh. Mercy Children's Hospital. Susie. Jimmy's chest goes tight and he swallows past a lump in his throat. A warm hand settles on his shoulder and he's steered over to a booth in the corner, Tango sandwiching him in on one side and Joel taking a seat across the table. Jimmy sucks down a shuddering breath. "...you heard?"

Joel scoffs. "We've been trying to find that bastard since the news broke this morning," he bites out. "The minute the Count gets back we'll know where he is." "You - what?" Jimmy stares, surprised. "You're trying to find him?" "Absolutely." Tango, this time, his arm around Jimmy's shoulders emanating a warmth that he hadn't realized was helping to calm him down. "We're going after that jerk the second we have the chance. The guy crossed a line, big time." Oh. Oh, gosh. Jimmy's vision just barely begins to blur with tears, and he feels Tango's arm tighten around him. There's quiet murmuring around him but he can't bring himself to listen. They're going after Vortex. Jimmy's biggest mistake in his life, and here Tango and Joel are ready to help fix it the second they have the chance. And Grian always said villains weren't to be trusted... "There's a bunch of others who signed up for the mission," Tango is saying, and Jimmy tunes back in. "Supreme and Iris and  Worm Man and some o' the others. They were pretty pissed when they found out-" "And we'll keep your name out of it, o' course," Joel goes on, and Jimmy blinks away tears to focus on him better. Joel rakes a hand back through his green-streaked hair and shrugs. "You're not involved. Keep your record clean, all that-" "No."#Jimmy is almost surprised to hear himself say it, and Joel looks surprised too, his eyebrows flying high. "What, you want us to leave him alone? Dunno if I can do that, Jim-" "No, I mean I want to be involved," Jimmy insists. "I want in." This time it's Tango who's surprised, ducked forward to catch Jimmy's eye. "You sure, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his hair licking with tiny flames. Concerned, probably. "It's not gonna be pretty." "I'm sure." And he is. He's seen fights before, and he's been in even more. He's fought criminals on the streets who were going to hurt people, and he's not about to balk at going after someone who already has. "I can handle it." "You're gonna need to hide your identity," Joel drawls, his voice low. "Wouldn't want our favorite civilian going to jail on our account." "I know," Jimmy nods. "I've got something I can wear." He's already picturing the yellow-and-black costume currently hanging at the back of his closet, of the feather-trimmed mask in his top dresser drawer. The suit and the mask that even Tango doesn’t know exists, not yet. Jimmy ponders for a moment before making a decision. His eyes catch Joel and Tango's in turn. "Actually...I think there's something I need to show you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The arrest had gone far smoother than expected, in Grian’s opinion. It’s not often that a high-priority villain is found bruised and bloody and practically gift-wrapped right where an anonymous tipper said he would be. Sure, vigilantes were kind enough to help them take down bad guy when they were able, but this time was different. This time there was no masked wannabe hero trying to take credit for a takedown, no signature calling card or note beyond the unsigned “He’s all yours, boys” that had been scribbled on cardboard hanging around Vortex’s neck. It had felt odd, is all, though Grian had agreed with his partner when Scar had said he was just grateful to have the guy off the streets. As Grian slips into his apartment through the bedroom window and shoulders open the door to grab some food, he has to force himself to brush the buzzing thoughts aside. He can ponder oddities later. It was a long shift, and he’s about ready to crash the second he gets some fuel in him. It's only when Grian is tugging off his mask and setting it on the table by the bedroom door that he realizes he's not alone. Familiar yellow wings catch his eye, and when he turns, he spots Jimmy sitting on the couch in the middle of the room. He looks exhausted, his Canary costume on and his mask hanging around his neck, and his hair is a wreck - like when he's anxious and has been running his hands through it constantly. "...heya Tim," Grian greets him slowly, not sure what his brother's presence here means just yet. He drops his crossbow on the table and crosses the room, sinking onto the coffee table in from of Jimmy so he can see him better. His expression is one of a man worn and run down, something shadowed in his eyes that has a frown tugging at Grian's lips. He almost opens his mouth to ask what he's doing here - but then he spots the dark stains on Jimmy's fingerless gloves, and the patch of red that's barely splattered across the yellow parts of his suit's design.  It clicks, then. The timing of it all, the villain - Vortex - that Grian and Scar had been called in to take care of tonight. The man who Grian also knew had been spotted at the Mercy Children's Hospital a few days ago, where that little girl had- "You were there," Grian says, not a question, just a fact. "Tonight. You went after him." Jimmy sucks down a shaking breath and nods. Grian would almost say he looks guilty, but he doesn't think Jimmy would feel guilty about going after the person who hurt one of his kids. Perhaps he feels guilty that a kid got hurt at all. "They helped," he says shakily. "All of - you know, the ones who said yes to visits with the kids. They've been trying to do better, and when Vortex-" He trails off, and Grian shifts over to the couch, tucking his brother under one of his wings and letting Jimmy slump sideways against him. "He's locked away, Jimmy," Grian tells him. "I promise. You did good."

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[misscammiedawn]

it’s literally your own fault that you have trauma from personality play, idiot. why the fuck would you EVER engage in intense kink with people you didn’t trust/people who didn’t believe in hypnosis/etc. and not practice the most obvious safety precautions during lmao. moronic behavior honestly.

Wasn't 100% sure if I should reply or delete-- My rule is to delete anon-hate without a second thought and the moment the word 'idiot' was brought out it fell into that category. So firstly, no sympathy/support either for the message or the circumstances please. I'm not here for that and it undermines the point if people focus on that.

Buuut here's the thing. I know. This isn't an accusation or an insult or even mean. Everything you say is in the body of the Ethical Personality Play post. Like-- uuuh--- I dunno what to say? Congrats, you read the post?

Fact is these events happened 15+ years ago and the community lacked the support, education and structure that it has now. I'm trying to help build something which I needed back then. Will I save everyone? No. Can I help like one person? I hope so.

But like, I was a self-destructive moronic idiot 15+ years ago and I am sorta open about it?

Like here are direct quotes (key quotes bolded):

I have experience with this fallacy myself. In utilizing hypnosis to ignore my triggers I did severe damage to myself and I am now plagued with intrusive memories and nightmares of events that happened during scenes that I was able to effortlessly indulge in during the scene but as they say "The body keeps the score" and I was in fact doing further damage to myself. Something which my partner at the time was not equipped to deal with because I'd failed to disclose or even treat the situation as worth being safe about. Now I am just burdened with further damage by ignoring my brain's defenses on my existing pain.

Likewise I want to note the power imbalance that comes from play like this. A motivated hypnotee can fling themselves into this arena and do harm to the hypnotist. This does fly both ways. A hypnotee not advocating for themselves or exercising their agency will make a hypnotist accessory to the damage. This is a sin I have committed.

...look... I don't want to be an old lady yelling at the kids for doing things when I did them myself at that age. I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't pretend I didn't see the allure on both sides of the watch.

I just... there weren't 20+ year experienced hypnosis veterans who had been in my character play abusing position when I was growing up. No one warned me. I learned all this the hard way and I hurt people. People I loved. Moreover I hurt me. In ways that will never heal. I just want to spare anyone I can the pain of going through this.

So--- like

Yeah. You read the post and understood it. I'm glad you read the post and understood it.

The landscape was different back then but that's no excuse. We were a fucking dumb child who wanted to be anyone but ourselves and acted recklessly because of it. We were a dangerous and toxic hypnotee and we should have known better.

That's the lesson. That's the point. I'm not here to ask forgiveness from the people I hurt or sympathy for the fact we fucked up. We just want to help build framework that didn't exist when we were starting out.

History on the hypnokink community is a topic that probably does need to be taught-- but if you're young enough that you've never known a place without framework, education and support then I'm glad, honestly. It means a lot of good people, dedicated people, have done work building houses my silly little essays can only manage to move pebbles with. I'm glad for that. Really.

The post isn't there for you to think "Poor Cammie :(" it's there for you to think "What an idiot, I'm never going to be like her"

So-- yeah-- I don't post anon-hate as a rule-- so thank you for the fan mail. Knee-jerk reaction aside, it makes me happy that you got the point.

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

baby brother!Charlie getting wood late at night and coming to wake you up for help because hes just so horny for you its pathetic and he doesnt know what else to do with himself

oh how i love you brother!Charlie

im french kissing your brain pookie <3

hey, ignore that it's mid-november, here's a halloween post

genderfucked reader, im indecisive

cw: somno, incest (WAHOO), dubcon but everyone's fine with everything, of course one of my first works back is part of the sibcon charlie au (as far as i know, created by @moistcl1tikal-ao3 )

he couldnt stop looking at you all night, your cute little whore-for-halloween costume hugging you just perfectly. but he had to save those thoughts and memories for later!

except later did not happen, he crashed as soon as he laid down on his bed after the parties and events you dragged him to so you could show off your cute, nerdy lil bro

so, naturally, he woke up about 2 hours later with the hardest boner of his life the month. all because he kept dreaming of getting to touch you under your booty shorts

poor boy was still too tired to wanna deal with it though! so he tried to go back to sleep, deal with it in the morning, but he couldnt get comfy or stop thinking about your head between his legs

plan a failed, time for plan b: choke the chicken

he tried so hard, looked up all his favorite pornos, his favorite pictures of you, a pair of stolen panties, he pulled out all the stops :/ and it just made him ache and throb more for you

so final plan, the riskiest plan, wake you up and beg on his goddamn knees that you aren't too grumpy

he knew you werent the nicest person ever when you got woken up, especially when somewhat hungover, so he tread with caution

even got a towel, pillow, snack, and bottle of water for you :(

busts out every petname in the book when he tries to shake you awake

"sissy.. sis? brother?? dearest sibling??? bubba???? 🤨 you alive motherfucker???" the shaking picked up speed and intensity, no longer worried about you being mad, just half convinced you passed away in your sleep

"geddafuqouddaherecharlee" you mutter, smacking him away but still rolling over for him to join you, thinking he had a nightmare or something

charlie slid into bed behind you, careful to not make any sudden moves, worried he'd say or do the wrong thing and ruin his chances of getting some tonight

he talked to you sweetly, gently, with purpose, he was making amazing points

"i dunno if i'm allowed to ask or if only you get to initiate but i'll do all your chores for a month if you help me out here..."

he waited

nothing happened

you were out COLD

so time for his impromptu new final plan: beg for forgiveness not permission. he tries to rationalize it! you've never rejected his advances before, you're insatiable, this is probably something your into! maybe just being in your bed and surrounded by the smell of you can help him get there

so he stole some lube from your bedside table

it was so absurdly cold that he of course made a very manly sound (screamed like a mouse would) and jumped a bit, enough to wake you up again

so you turn to charlie, terrified because what the fuck was your little brother possibly experiencing to shatter everyone's eardrums at 2:33am

and you catch him, cock in one hand, other hand covering his mouth to avoid making more noise, but you already caught him slick-handed. and if you weren't so exhausted you would absolutely jump his bones in an instant, but the hangover was already kicking in so while seeing your younger brother trying to jerk off to you in your own bed would usually light a bonfire in your gut, this was more like a backyard fire pit sized one

so, being the amazing older sibling you are, you chuckle and coo at him, inching your hand towards the one on his cock

"awww my poor baby brother cant get off without me?" you fake a pout as your hand finds its way to cupping his balls, massaging gently

"pleasepleaseplease, need you so bad, needed you-needed you all night" he begs and involuntarily bucks his hips into your hand, eyes glued shut and hands fisted in your sheets, overcome with pleasure

he doesn't see or i guess hear or feel you shifting to be closer to his dick, or he just doesn't acknowledge it

but he sure notices when you grab the base and flick your tongue over the tip

"you're too cute" is the last thing he hears before being overrun by pure ecstasy as he finally cums when you take him fully down your throat, thank yous pouring out of his pink, bitten lips

his hands fly to hold your head in place, you let him until you start gagging

he lets go and starts profusely apologizing and thanking you

"you can make it up to me if you want.." you say seductively as you lay on your back and spread your knees just enough to get the point across

@th3-circus @xoxoave @jschladderall @manticore-fangs

im not dead which is shocking to everyone im pretty sure.. anyway here ya go <3

[ummmlife]

Because you asked for it!!! literally no one ever asked for this

here are my...

Nanami Kento headcanons

Warnings!; none... maybe mention of nsfw?

My man here is fucking blind, like, he needs glasses to read. He also has prescription sunglasses, and has more than those ugly glasses he wears.

Started buying Rolex watches when he worked as a salaryman. He simply saw a man with a fancy watch one day and said "Oh, I want one of those".

Although he's a foodie, he often skips his meals, not intentionally though.

Has a great collection of alcohol in his home, that's not a surprise for anyone, yeah. But Nanami also owns a small barista kit to make cocktails.

He's not a virgin but the last time he had sex with someone was a month before leaving his salaryman job. Poor man.

Calling him "daddy" won't have any effect in him. He will probably be confused if you call him "daddy" like ??? why are you calling him father?

Now, if you call him "husband" or dirty talk to him like a good housewife (even if you're not a woman), gurl, he'll go feral.

Also, Nanami really wants to get married. The whole idea of being a family man and have his own spouse and children makes him happy.

He's cancer, duh.

Cry baby, also.

Nanami usually bottles up all his emotions to simply lay down on his bed at night and cry himself to sleep.

Unless you are not his partner, you won't see his clingy side. Nanami is needy, he needs to give and receive a lot of love.

He's the kind of man that sleeps all curled up with his partner, the more physical contact there is, the better.

Don't forget that he's a millennial. Nanami can't start his day without a coffee.

Yeah, he likes Harry Potter and shit.

His Instagram is: 8 post, 6 of them are about food.

He's more active on twitter tho, but not like you think. He uses twitter as his second newspaper.

Nanami seems like a very correct man who listens to classical music all the time, but we all know he's an emo at heart. But he also enjoys bossa nova a lot.

Since his grandpa is danish, he knows like 10 words in danish.

He's not blond, he started dying his hair when he was recruited into jujutsu high. Surprisingly, his hair is in a very healthy state.

Yeah, he knows how to dye hair.

Nanami had a lot of intrusive thoughts, some of those makes him very afraid of his own mind.

Only watch weird philosophical movies from unknown european directors... Unless you find him on a sunday's night watching the most cheesy romcom you've ever heard about.

He also reads manga, but occasionally. Probably likes something like Golden Kamuy or Vagabond.

His favorite sport is baseball.

He once tried pilates (Gojo's recommendation)... never more.

Loves edging himself when he has to relieve stress

Has a lot of plants, all in perfect health.

If his partner gets pregnant, he will ask to try breastmilk... Why? I dunno, he's probably curious.

His favorite position is missionary, boring af, but he likes to see his partner's face when they cum.

If he's in a relationship, don't expect him to jerk off. Even when he was single didn't jerk off unless he was incredibly horny, the plus of a relationship is that he will ask his partner to make love together to ease his human needs.

Likes cats more than dogs for pets, but he'll definitely have fishes or a turtle if he can.

Very sensitive, with everything in general. Textures, noises, flavors. If there's something that overstimulates his senses, he will have a bad day.

That's why he buys one specific brand of condoms and also 99% cotton everything that has fabric on it.

Very clean for the same reasons, he can't stand visual noise.

Nanami also cleans his home spiritually. Does he believes in that? Not necessarily, but it feels his home cleaner.

Loves being kissed on his forehead and jaw.

Also likes the sensation of being protected, he's always protecting people but he likes also to feel safe and cared.

If you ask him to wear a skirt, with a bit of struggle, will agree.

Has never tried anything sexual like bdsm or something like that. Just the basic 4 positions of sex.

Nanami is just a sweet guy who only shows his cute side when he's comfortable enough with his loved one.

That's all for now!

[hana-no-seiiki]

Saw that post you made a little bit ago and was hit with an idea (ow)

A yandere that tries so damn hard to hold themselves back from crossing boundaries because while their love is, in fact, incredibly twisted and probably unhinged, they do love their darling. Hearing that Darling never had anyone respect them the way they deserved really grinded their gears. So the Yandere asks for permission before giving hugs, kisses, ect.

Is it out of genuine respect? Is a ploy/plot to gain Darling's affection a bit faster? Up to you, I'm very tired. I'll also let you decide how successful the Yandere is at Not Crossing Boundaries

My yans in general are yans because they have no sense of boundaries, do not care about these boundaries, or expect you to have no boundaries because they have none themselves.

I think the only yans in my roster that will definitely respect that in a direct sort of manner are the Midnight Darling (Yan! College) ones. Purely because the reader there is at the top of the foodchain and they have a system for organization’s sake. Most of them would still stalk you, or ‘feel’ you indirectly by taking your stuff. But if you ever voiced it out, they’ll make sure that no one messes with the lines you’ve set.

That being said, they do expect a reward and will very much coax it out of you if not outright force it if enough time has passed by that they get impatient.

Try not to implicate who didn’t respect your boundaries, unless you want them dead or humiliated to death. Though I do see them hunting your family members down since that’s where stuff like that usually happens eitherway (totally not speaking from personal experience h a h a)

Particularly speaking, Justin (Yan! Jock) is actually the best at keeping his hands to himself. He’s great at adjusting. You just have to not tick him off or intentionally provoke him and he’d basically do whatever you wish. He cares more for how he can serve you rather than how you can reciprocate his feelings.

Amir is also very good at respecting your boundaries. Physically speaking at the very least. He is incredibly bad at verbal boundaries and can easily say something real bad at the worst times, but he does apologize and feels awful afterwards. He does awkwardly hover over you sometimes and is too shy to ask for permission, so you have to read him yourself to know when to ply him with kisses.

The worst for respecting your boundaries would be Yichen (Yan! Himbo)

What are boundaries? You’ve been bros for forever! Friends don’t have boundaries! You guys should always be open to each other! And y’know what he’s been feeling rather pent up lately. Won’t you be a dear and jerk him off as you sit prettily on his lap?

God while his is more innocent in nature, there’s also someone I haven’t written specifically here yet but have been brainrotting in dms w/ @not-a-bot-just-shy . Caterpillar (Yan! Ex Goon/Now-A-Villain) who just doesn’t care entirely. You’re hers whether you like it or not. Who are you to set boundaries when she owns you? Possessions don’t have rights much less should have the ability to say no.

She’s very similar to The Scientist (it’s in the name) who doesn’t even see you as human. Reader in that story is a monster so it makes sense but 🤷‍♂️ i dunno sounds kinda fucked up-

but yeah, a lot of my ocs are crap at it ngl. They’re needy sluts.

[followmetoyourdoom]

So inspired by this post from @jak2gooberglub and this art by @preservedcucumbers I've written a shortish post-Jak 3/Jak X late night Jak musings about the what ifs and what he regrets, and then Daxter comforting him in the way only Daxter can - calling him a moron.

Rated T: swearing and mentions of blood.

Might put this up on ao3 but for now, under the read more:

It's late. He's tired. He's wired with thoughts about what could have been and what futures could have changed.

His father was there the entire time. Just outside the city walls.

What if he had waited? What if he had known sooner? What if he could have returned Mar to his father and he had grown up with him?

Jak allows himself to imagine it for a few blissful seconds. The training his father would have passed down, the honour. He could have grown up to be the leader Spargus needed him to be instead of refusing the throne. He could have spent more time with his father. He could have felt his love and pride for longer than those few short months. Yes, the Wasteland was harsh, but the cell walls and the experiments were harsher.

When did he get to have what he wanted? World be damned.

He gets up, a ball of frustration, and begins to pace, back and forth and back and forth, until he stops in front of his mirror.

What's happened to him?

You have. The answer comes ringing into his head as clear as the Light that keeps the Dark at bay. He's done this to himself.

It's by his own hand that he sent his younger version back in time to re-live the same shitty reality he was going through now. Why did he do that? To a child? Everything that's happened since he got to Haven City he can blame squarely on his own shoulders. Avoid the wumpbee nest. Yeah right, like that's the main thing the kid has to worry about.

He's no better than the Shadow trying to send that poor kid into Mar's Tomb.

His fist finds the indent in the wall from previous nightly musings and his head finds the crack in the mirror.

Jak winces in pain and leans back, watches as a thin stream of blood slowly drips down his forehead. Good, he deserves it. What good ever came out of his actions?

"Can't sleep, huh tough guy?"

The voice knocks him back into reality and he looks down as Daxter patters into the room.

Daxter. His friend. His partner in crime. The one he turned into an ottsel, the one he dragged into this mess. The one that could have just had a regular life without him in it, growing up in Sandover Village without him.

Of course, he can't just ruin his own life, right? He has to drag others down with him.

"Helloooo? Earth to Jak?"

There's a familiar jolt to his shoulder as Daxter hops up, but Jak ignores the hand waving in front of his face for a moment.

Still staring at himself in the mirror, he speaks up. "Are you happy here, Daxter?"

Daxter frowns. "Here specifically?" He leans back, elbow resting on Jak's head. "Well I'd rather be asleep curled up with my little tootsie roll Tess, but some big jerk punched the wall and woke me up."

"I mean here in Haven City."

"City of fast cars, faster women and even faster death threats? Eh, 60/40," he waves his hand, "happy as I can be."

Jak smudges blood across the side of his face. "You wouldn't have preferred to be back in Sandover, as yourself, without me in your life?"

Daxter tilts his head. "You're in one of those fucked up 'I'm the problem and to blame for everything' mood, ain't'cha?" He sighs. "Look buddy, I am myself and... I dunno, life would be pretty boring without you and pretty sad without Tess. Would it be more peaceful? Sure. Would I have less fur? Probably. Would I be less itchy? Absolutely. But I wouldn't give this up for the world.

"You're not the only one who's had to sacrifice what they want to save the world, y'know? This ain't all on you tough guy, so snap out of it. Please," the last word is mumbled. "No one gets to hurt my best friend, and that includes my best friend."

"I just... Miss him." He plonks down on the bed.

Daxter knows exactly who Jak means. "I know. But if you hadn't grown up in the past, then you wouldn't have gone back to the future and been around to stop Kor."

Jak shoots him a look.

"What?" He jumps off to stand next to Jak. "It makes sense. It would just be baby you who would have had his life juices or whatever sucked out by Kor's giant pincer things," Daxter gnashes his hands together dramatically to make his point, the entire conversation now aided by sweeping gestures. "So you die, Kor destroys or takes over Haven City, and sure as hell Spargus wouldn't have lasted long after that. Damas wouldn't stand by and watch his city burn, so he'd fight back, probably lose, and then you're in the same situation you're in now." Daxter's hands fall limp after their performance. "You had to go back, it was the right choice, fucked up as it is."

"I didn't have a choice as a little kid. Why did I choose for him? Why didn't I just ask what he wanted?"

Daxter rolls his eyes. "Hm yeah okay let's roleplay that for a second. You be you, I'll be younger you. Don't look at me like that, we're doing this, I'm going to show you how stupid you sound."

"Fine." Jak turns to him. "Hey, kid. Do you want to into the past and live in a shitty little village and then get tortured the minute you land back here and also have no memory of-"

"You're doing it wrong! I'll be you, you just be quiet." Daxter clears his throat and puts his hands together, poining at an invisible object. "Hey, kid. Through that portal is a quiet village. It's not much, you'll learn the lay of the land pretty quickly and you'll have a few chores here and there to do. But, and this is the really good part, you meet this amazingly handsome totally cool friend who... Who didn't really have friends until you showed up." Daxter shuffles his feet. "You end up taking him under your wing and he takes you under yours. He doesn't care that you don't talk and you don't care that he never stops talking. You balance each other out. You're partners. You'll be there for each other through thick and thin and you'll always, always, find each other and save each other. No matter what.

"So, whaddaya say, kid? Wanna go meet your best friend?"

Jak sits there quietly.

Daxter sniffs. "Yeah you look pretty fucking stupid now, don'tcha."

"Shut up."

Daxter gently punches his arm. "Never. You know I can't."

"Thanks, Dax."

"No problem, buddy. Let's get some sleep."

Jak grumbles and starts settling down into bed. Then there's a tail in his face and an ottsel on his chest. "What're you doing, Dax?"

"Getting some sleep, duh."

The tail flicks his nose and Jak brushes it away. "I thought you wanted to get back to Tess?"

"She'll have taken over the whole bed by now, nah, I'll stay here."

Jak smiles softly, the darkness allowing him to show his vulnerable side, if just for a moment. "Just like the good old times, hey Dax?"

Daxter makes a few biscuits and finally curls up. "Just like the good old times," he says sleepily.

[bonefall]

i would love to see more about bb!crowfeather, if you haven’t done a post about him already? (i tried digging but couldn’t find one, dunno if that’s just tumblr search being broken tho)

I'll make him a big summary post once I've settled on a design I like for him, I'm stuck up on if I want him to be smooth or spiky. So here's a little doodle page + some casual notes

Me: "I'm not a fan of projecting real world culture onto BB redux cats,and if I ever was giving a character an in universe accent it would specifically be to give the smartest character on screen a very thick northern english one to stick it in the face of the way southern english accents are associated with intelligence"

Also me: "but crowfeather is italian"

BB!Crow is pretty different from canon

My Crow is a very passionate guy, it's never lost from his young warrior days. Many of the late Po3/early OotS moments where Leafpool is confessing her love in front of his wife and children are from him to her instead

Mudclaw and Torear are some of the best cooks in WindClan during the late Thistle Period. Crowpaw was super close with his mentor Mudclaw, and picked this up from him

For the Great Journey, Crow mashed up his personal collection of mealworms to make tunnelbun rations for everyone

And SPEAKING of the Great Journey, he was already a warrior at the time. His name was Crowfoot, for his mom and dad

Both Dead and Ash were old friends of Bluestar, members of the forget-me-nots.

Ashfoot shared this with him when he was young, and also that Tigerstar was responsible for killing his dad

This feeds into some changes I'm making to have Crow be slightly less frustrating during the Journey. He's still angry, short tempered, and dramatic, but MUCH less openly antagonistic

Squilf and him are usually involved in food related escapades, youll see when I finish the notes of TNP

Feathertail's death changes everyone. Crow most of all.

Crow is an impulsive young warrior. He throws himself headfirst into things, often forgetting that he isn't the only person in the world who matters. Feathertail felt like cool water, reminding him how to slow down and take a breath

The romantic affection was mutual, but imo I don't think it would have lasted.

But no one will ever know if it will, least of all Crowfoot, who is convinced that they both died that day in the mountain

Tallstar’s final name is Crow's honor title; Crowfeather.

And then Leafpooooooool

When she ultimately isn't willing to, like, throw away everyone she's ever loved and go live in the wildnerness with him, Crowfeather loses his marbles, convinced now that Actually He is Unlovable

And still he gets with Nightcloud, thinking that he can't possibly be hurt any more, he must re-prove his loyalty after he vanished for a week... it really was a pretty knee-jerk choice he didn't think through and rationalized post-hoc

No consideration for Nightcloud here.

This post isn't about Nightcloud btw but she is actually pretty reduxed too. The fact she was involved in the raid to kill Onewhisker is politically relevant to Breezepelt later

And Breezy, poor fucking Breeze

Crow is a garbage dad. Breeze is really not in a good environment with him and Nightcloud.

Through points in Po3, before Breeze becomes the villain who kills Firestar and sees a redemption in AVoS, I am planning several moments to establish that Breezepaw is perfectly capable of being a loving cat if he was in a better life situation

To Crowfeather's benefit, age will do wonders on mellowing him out.

He does tend to struggle with compassion though, and remains a pretty harsh character for most of his life.

Crow wanted to be a Light in the Mist to even begin to apologize to Breeze, but Breeze knocks him out lmao no more Crowf worship thanks erins

Anyway. Onto design stuff

Hollyleaf and Breezepelt look a LOT like grandpa Deadfoot, but I'm not sure if I want Crowfeather to look a lot like him

I'm leaning towards him looking like Ashfoot detail-wise but have Deadfoot’s face.

Btw you can observe, here, the WindClan Tail Tuft.

Most WindClan cats have a lighter-colored tail tuft to help them be seen in tall grass, it's a feature like the ThunderClan Mane you may have noticed in a lot of my TC cats.

Ashfoot and Morningflower have a cloudy swirl on their tails, and a "whispy" sort of vibe. Deadfoot and his dad Chicorynose have a dragon-arrow.

Holly got the dragon arrow because She Deserves It

I'm fond of this redux lmao, let men be dramatic

[illogicalnordictales]

As promised, here’s the part 2 of the last post: y’know, the one about being a language major and how the “Drunk & Angry Swastika Language” was only halfway a joke. Yeah, that one.

I dunno man, I just work here.

So I’m a history nerd. Specifically military history. European military history.

And so things like the Great War, World War II, the Talvisota, things like that, interest me.

But not only that, I’ve got a dark sense of humor, and used to run an Instagram page based off military history memes.

And then it got banned.

And then I made a new one.

Anyway, so all of this made my high school life a concoction for rumors.

Started by this one girl. I don’t like her so we’re gonna use her real name: Brooklynne.

Anyway, she didn’t really like me. I didn’t like her. She was a jerk.

And also Jewish. (I promise, this has something to do with the story.)

So one day in my sophomore year in high school, I get into my Italian class, and I’m just keeping to myself, getting settled and ready for class to start. When I hear someone call my name.

So I glanced up, and I see Brooklynne and one of her friends standing a few feet away. And Brooklynne is looking nervous. And so once they got my attention, her friend asks me,

“Do you like Nazis?”

“…why?”

“Your laces.”

Now, mind you, she asked me this after I spend all year walking into class with a German military jacket (with the current flag, not the flag of the 3rd Reich, don’t worry), and made jokes about Communism. And she’s asking about my LACES? Bruh. Anyway, I wore these black combat boots to school (still do), but they had red laces on the (I don’t have them anymore, now it’s black on black). And for those who don’t know the shoelace code:

Red laces on black Doc Martens were code for “I am a Nazi” and/or “I support Nazis.”

I don’t have Docs. I don’t want docs. I’ll take my nice cheaper comfy combat booths over Docs any day, thank you.

But I’m also not a Nazi. So I replied to them with, “No, I just like the contrast in colors.”

And I thought that was the end of that.

It wasn’t. The next year, a rumor started floating around that I was a Nazi. I don’t know exactly who started it, but I’ve got a pretty good idea on who did.

It got to the point where even people who had never met me would go, “Oh Illogical? She’s a Nazi, right?”

One guy literally wouldn’t even associate with me because of it. It was crazy.

Thankfully, over the summer the rumor died out.

And then about 2 weeks ago, I get a text from my friend. Sending me a picture of the hood of his car, where someone had drawn a swastika on the hood. And he’s like, “What is this?”

And I’m like, “I didn’t do it. Plus, it’s not even the Nazi one. It’s the Hindu one. The Nazi one is on an angle, that one would need to be rotated 45° for it to be the Nazi one.”

Yeahhh, I betchu didn’t know there were TWO different types of swastikas.

Now you do.

Anyway, with that single piece of knowledge I cleared my name instantly, because very few people know that fact.

But then he was like, “So who did it?”

Like bruh I’unno, it wasn’t my turn to watch your car like a hawk and make sure no one drew a swastika on it.

And bro literally pulled the “You’re a language major” card.

And he was then like, “I thought you did it. Also, being a German major made it more likely you’d be a facist.”

HAH idiot. Nonono. Being a German major would mean I’m more careful about what I do to not give that vibe.

Like suuure, I like making jokes about the Holocaust. Suuure, I take in interest in European and German military history.

FACIST, SHE MUST BE A FACIST. SHE’S A FILTHY RIGHT WING SKINHEAD.

(Guys my ego is fragile and I’m not a Skinhead. Don’t send the liberals after me, I’m not one of them, they’ll draw and quarter me)

Like hah guys let’s be real here. If I was a facist, I wouldn’t be out loud and proud about it. That’s like going to Hot Topic at 10 P.M.

That’s how you die.

Anyway, little hint for later, if anyone ever accuses you of being a Nazi, there are many ways you can go about it:

1) Do literally nothing.

2) Say, “No I’m not.” (Extra points if you pull the “That’s the wrong swastika” card)

3) Stare them dead in the eye. Straighten your back, put your heels together, and raise your right arm about 45°. Then, yell, “HEIL HITLER!” (Extra points if you’re in college at a very liberal or left wing college.) Then, you go about life like nothing happened.

✨You’re welcome for this useless anecdote✨

Note: The last option is entirely satirical. Don’t attack me in the comments. If you do, you’re uninvited to my birthday party. If you do it, and you get shot, that’s not my fault, nor is it my problem.

[gettingfrilly]

Any cool opinions on the various friendships and relationships between the cul-de-sac kids? 😶‍🌫️ Hope you pass the time un-boringly :)

Ooh. Okay here's one. Sarah is the Utena to Jimmy's Anthy. She's a prince type character (butch, protector of the weak, noble as far as Jimmy's concerned) whereas Jimmy is the princess in distress. She's his hero and he depends on her. Okay, Utena and Anthy are probably too complicated of a metaphor for gendered expectations and the facilities within them to accurately apply to Jimmy and Sarah, but you get what I mean. As they grow up, I want Jimmy to learn how to protect himself and not rely so heavily on Sarah, and see Sarah learn to be her own person outside of Jimmy's playmate and protector. I also like to headcanon them entering a lavender relationship as teens to throw their parents off their trails.

Nazz and Kevin! We learn in Will Work for Ed that Nazz has a surprising depth of knowledge when it comes to worker's rights. She also gets good grades, so I think there's a lot of smarts under all that ditzy blond schtick. I think she'll quickly outgrow Kevin, becoming too smart to find him interesting anymore. Kevin feels that sting for a while.

Rolf, Kevin, and Nazz. Love these three. Season five put all the kids (other than Jimmy and Sarah) in the sixth grade, but I think they were originally meant to be older than the other kids (Ralph's hairiness, Nazz being hired to babysit Eddy, and Kevin always calling the Eds squirts would all be explained by this.) I like the dynamic they have in the earlier seasons together, sometimes hanging out just the three of them or commenting to each other on the actions of the younger kids in the neighborhood.

I really wanna see what the Eds' relationships with the other kids look like post BPS. I think Kevin and Double D would become fast friends, considering he's the only Ed we ever see Kevin having positive interactions with in the show. I think Eddy would get over his hatred of Kevin quickly and start to see him as cool now that there's a male role model shaped hole in his life. I also like the idea of Kevin kinda feeling a little protective of Eddy post BPS... like dang no wonder this squirt is such a jerk. Maybe he becomes more patient with Eddy. I dunno.

Sorry I didn't mention Johnny, I don't think about him all that much lol. Thanks for the ask!

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for wanting to be part of a clique?

So I (13F) have been in LOVE with this boy (13M) since elementary school if you can believe it. And don't you dare tell me I'm NOT in love with him because I swear I AM! He's handsome and sharp and athletic and he's got this kind of dreamy brooding charm with a heart of gold and I could talk about him all day but that's not what this post is about!!! He's never wanted anything to do with me and I don't know why but sure, hard to get, I can live with it

Last fall this kind of...clique I guess??? popped up at my school and he's in the middle of it (the others are I thiiiiiink 12M 13M 14F? idk) and they are INSEPARABLE I mean like you WILL NOT see one of them without any of the others and usually all four of them, they're ALWAYS hanging out together and CONSPIRING, the whole school agrees it's weird but no one knows what they're actually DOING (crime maybe???)

And this clique for whatever reason. HATES me. I'm talking NON STOP INSULTS AND DIRTY LOOKS whenever I so much as go NEAR them. I don't even know WHAT I did to these people, I've never even TALKED to any of the others before they formed their little club, but it's almost like I dunno I OFFENDED them in some way??? AND TO MAKE THINGS WORSE MY CRUSH IS MASSIVELY CRUSHING ON 14F AND IDEK WHAT SHE HAS OVER ME!!?!?

The thing is I said they do crime and stuff but I'm not actually sure of that. And when they're not being suspicious they actually...seem like they're having a lot of fun together. It's not like I don't have any friends (I'm really pretty and popular) but these guys just seem close in a different way that's just totally natural and it doesn't require any effort at all from them and my crush looks so happy hanging around them like I've never seen him before. They all just kinda seem like they belong together and...I guess I'm a little jealous.

And okay maybe I haven't been a saint to them because it's the only way to even get them to notice me at all, but I really don't know what I did to make them all hate me before they even talked to me. Does my crush really hate me that much that he spread it to these friends of his? I don't know if I'd actually like his friends or not because they all seem kind of weird, but it's not like I'll ever be able to find out. And I don't need to I don't need them!!! But it looks like it's fun to be a part of something like whatever they have

I just. Idk is this stupid am I secretly just some huge jerk for even bothering with them?

UPDATE: THIS NEW GIRL SHOWED UP AT SCHOOL AND SHE ENDED UP IN THEIR GROUP L I T E R A L L Y OVERNIGHT. SHE JUST MOVED HERE I HAVENT EVEN HEARD OF HER BUT SHES GLUED TO THEM IDK WHAT IM DOING WRONG HERE???

[coffee-in-veins]

@hungryhannya since you wanted to see my take on cross-dressing Dismas, i gathered the written bits i had and will post them under keep reading.

yep, it's the same Dis as RRR one, so those are from his backstory :}

no, unfortunately i dunno how to incorporate those into RRR proper as of now :{

viewer discretion is advised! some snippets mention sexual predators, dubious attitude to women, and dubious attitude to men in dresses

===

"Have you ever worn a dress?"

Dismas barked a laughter:

"Bitch, I can rock two-inch heels on cobblestone!" he snickered again. "Comes with bein' a conman. n' havin' good balance, I s'ppose. So lemme tell ya from experience that lace is itchy as fuck."

He laughed again, shaking his head. Ah, to be young again!

"Let's just say, the number o' times I had t' dress as some nun t' get outa hot water is definitely higher than one. So yeah, I wore a dress. A wedding gown once, e'en. Was drunk as piss at that time, tho, we had a huge haul. Robbed some convoy that was bringing wedding gifts for some rich fuck. That night things were wild in the camp."

Ah, he did remember the wedding gown, though. He was scrawnier of them all, shorter. And though his anger, ruthlessness, and being unhinged started to stir others away from playing tricks on him, Dismas still wasn't on the level of fear and respect he was aiming for to be left completely alone and in peace.

So he ended up in the wedding gown, white as milk, sewn with some glass beads and river pearls, and collectively shoved by the rowdier of other brigands into the boss' tent despite fierce resistance - just to be mocked, since he apparently wasn't spending all his time to hone the skill with dirk and a gun, but was simply "arrogant squirt".

Surprising exactly no one, the older man was amused by that. Boss stared him down, a condescending grin on his face, so Dismas did what he always did: he went on the offense. Straightening up instead of trying to cover that ridiculous dress, hand on hip, the challenge in the eyes.

He remembered drawling "like what ye see, ol' man?".

Surprisingly, the head of the brigand actually did. Or maybe he was impressed by the shameless display. Or maybe both.

But that was one weird promotion to get.

===

"What's a dumb but hilarious thing that happened to you?"

Dismas laughed and shook his head.

"Do ye wanna list or somethin'? My whole life is dumb but hilarious!" he snickered, swiveling the booze in his mug. "But fine, there was this one story, see. I like t' think 'bout it sometimes."

He leaned his cheek on his fist and grinned.

"See, I had t' dress as a nun t' get away with my hide intact in one town. n' i can be quite convincing in my walk and poise. So here I am, with my stubble-covered mug hiding under the cowl, head low, mumbling somethin' prayer-passing to get through some alley or another, n' this guy jumps me. Well he thinks he jumps me, but I can't just shoot the cretin since 'tis rare for vestals to carry flintlocks, aye? Well, he pushes me to the wall n' starts the usual dronin' 'bout wantin' to live n' pulling up my skirt if I did."

The highwayman's grin became even wider.

"Well, I was in a foul mood, n' thought why the hell not? The guy seemed so eager. Could've been a fun tumble, right? So I undo m' pants mumbling that I'm just unclaspin' chastity belt, n' give m'self a few good jerks - one has to look presentable while showing off his, he, dagger, right? n' this moron just stands and is positively drooling there, like a dog that's near a bitch in heat. I can't e'en blame the guy, I was using my spare shirt as padding in place of tits, those must've looked like quite the peaches to grab."

Dismas gestured on his chest, showing quite impressive imaginary brests, especially considering his height and physique.

"If only ya 've seen his face when I yanked the skirt up!" the highwayman shook with laughter. "He e'en dropped the knife, the cretin! n' I just stand there, cocking an eyebrow at him. So when he failed t' do anything, I offered to measure who has the longer one and who ends up winning bends the other guy. God's tits, he was running and yellin' about demons before I e'en finished speaking."

Dismas coughed up another bark of laughter and took a swing from his glass.

" 'ere's a life lesson in this, I s'ppose. If e'erything is going too well n' you think ye got yerself a busty vestal to dick, take a moment t' look closer. Maybe 'tis an unshaved guy with a boner instead."

===

"Any more stories about wearing dresses?"

"Ya really love yer dresses, eh, pal?" Dismas chuckled, swiveling booze in his glass, and hummed, digging through the crypts of his mind. He then huffed a peal of laughter. "Aye, there was one! We needed t' infiltrate one o' them nobleman's villas. n' we had one fiery lass on our team, who e'eryone assumed would go in as a lady with me as her bodyguard, n' we'd get floor plans n' guard rotations."

The highwayman chuckled, remembering Firebird's face when he dragged the bag of all the lady shit and dumped it all over her tent's floor. The sourness, the resentment, the rage.

The hurt.

However, just as vividly he remembered how quickly those were washed away when she had heard his plan - and his questions.

The rogue took a swing and shrugged.

"I mean they weren't wrong, technically. Lady Dimass and her guard Hilde indeed infiltrated the villa n' did what needed t' be done." The scoundrel grinned, remembering Firebird's surprise when she saw him rocking the heels like it was nothing. "Wigs don't care if ye have a dick n' those fans are incredibly convenient t' hide stubble, just sayin'."

[reader010]

New hyperfixation means new tumblr post to inspire me to write something! @nordictwin's I was a Teenage Exocolonist Stratos Kid Time Loop AU got me thinking: why do the kids in the AU suddenly have the power to remember? And when I start thinking I start scheming... what if it wasn't an accident that they remember? What if our lovable little scamp Sol tried a few new things across the loops and may have *accidentally* transcended a bunch of their friends with our favorite Faceless + Wormhole wombo combo?

So anyway: here is a short writing dump about Sol and Anemone borrowing from one of the original loyalty scenes in the game. (Nemmie is my favorite so that's who you all get) - enjoy!

---

"The adults say we're not supposed t’ go outside the colony unless it's on expedition…" Anemone didn’t take her eyes off the teenage-shaped speck receding over the distant cliffside; wordlessly, she extended an open hand to the other and waited expectantly. The heft of her holoculars being returned to her is all the answer she needs before instinctively looping the device back around her neck. "And Dys just goes whenever he wants! What if he gets hurt? What if he dies?"

Or worse… Anemone wrinkled her nose, her mind filling in the pieces of just what worse could possibly entail. "What if he picks up a weird alien disease and comes back with three heads?"

Beside her, her lookout partner chuckled cheerfully – as if three-head-making alien diseases was a laughing matter –and Anemone’s cheeks flushed with the knee-jerk reaction that it’s her whose being laughed at. Maybe… maybe she’d didn’t know as much about what’s out there as the explorers – but hey, it hadn’t been proved there weren’t three-head-making alien viruses on Vertumna.

Anemone idly scratched her cheek, itching at the dry spot caused from her acne turned scales. “Ow,” she muttered instinctually; the jolt of pain snapped her back into the moment, where her eyes leapt up to the clifftop. No sign of Dys anymore. "I just… dunno what to do about it," Anemone admitted, "what do you think?"

They’re quiet for a moment: there’s a pause that’s full of uncertainty and hesitation, but when her friend spoke, the words are filled with something that Anemone couldn’t quite place.

"We should go after him."

It’s finally enough to take Anemone’s attention off the valley; she whipped her head towards Sol and couldn’t stop herself from staring at the other girl as if she had three heads.

"What?! Outside the colony? By ourselves?”

There was a glow in Sol’s eyes. Again, that sensation that Anemone just couldn’t place. Sol’s words were insanity – clearly meant to be a joke – but something in them looked… strangely… hopeful?

Anemone hadn’t really… Anemone didn’t leave the colony. Sure, she was 13 years old, and that meant she was old enough to join the expeditions team… but that’s not where she was meant to be. She liked watch duty. She was training to be like Kom and Rhett.

Exploring this weird alien planet – going out of her way to deal with its weird crazy animals and environment that wanted to kill them – she’d leave that stuff to those more suited for the task. Like Utopia and Uncle Tonin. Like Dys (as much as she hated to admit it). And… well, Sol.

Not her. Not Anemone.

“No way!” She shook her head profusely. And Sol laughed, but that little light twinkling in her eye had disappeared, so quickly dashed by Anemone’s words that she wondered whether it had ever been there at all. “Nuh uh!" Anemone repeated.

Sol teased her Nemmie some more, but somewhere deep inside, Anemone couldn’t help but wonder that her best friend seemed… disappointed?

---

“Nemmie… do you trust me?”

At the time, it had seemed like a silly question. Anemone’s response, “Of course I trust you,” had been immediate. Automatic. Trust was implicit between the two at this point in their lives.

By their late teens, Sol had done more for Anemone then… anyone. She was at her side defending against every attack; she helped the colony’s scientists cure the Shimmer, and its farmers stave off famine. Sol had even convinced her to break off her toxic relationship with Vace.

“I need you to do something for me.”

So yeah, Anemone figured she could trust Sol, her best friend since diapers, to not do or suggest anything that would betray that trust.

“Nemmie… I need you to sneak out with me during Glow season.”