#i fucked up my sleep schedule. haha.

[fbfh]

"Hows writing going?" I literally look like this

[kimmkitsuragi]

im applying for something rlly good on the last day of the application dates lmao god can i have a miracle pls

[salamispots]

toasted bread + butter dipped in egg yolk is extremely satisfying

[whatudottu]

Ever since I talked about a universal language, or at least about common languages used in the interplanetary (though given we have examples from the Andromeda system, it could also be intergalactic) community, I have been contemplating number systems. Not exactly a universal one no, but certainly what the counting systems of some of the smarter species of Ben 10.

And who else none other than the cerebrocrustaceans that I have been headcanoning so much about for the privilege!

I remember watching a video about creating a number system (part of a series about making a conlang because :P) and at the time I had misremembered what the 'best' number system was and thought 'well what if the one thing cerebrocrustaceans and galvans agree on (rivalry or not) is their numbers'. Turns out, it's a hot fucking debate in the numbers community between base 6 (senary/seximal) and base 12 (duodecimal/dozenal), and the video made a compromise for base 16 (hexadecimal).

So instead of like... going based on that, I went with the next step; fingers!

Except... cerebrocrustaceans have uh... less fingers than humans (or even galvans). Sure, maybe if their number system is so low it can actually contribute into a literal billion digit IQ using the power of a base 2 (binary, of course) number system, using the 'on/off' of an open and closed claw to count but- 2 claws, 2 hands, that only counts up to 4. So I thought 'okay, what else would they use to count?' and looked at their teeth, counting from there; it didn't end up working, the tooth count was inconsistent between screenshots even though Brainstorm specifically held the same expression.

Then one day, in the middle of the night, as I was trying to figure out how to count with the babylonian number system (count to 12 on one hand counting the joints of your 4 fingers with your thumb, hold up a finger on the other to signify how many twelves you've counted up to 60);

What if I just give cerebrocrustaceans and extra joint on their claws (which technically they do have based on animation but it isn't shown because animation-friendly) and have they count the fronts and backs of their claw per claw (though I didn't understand the babylonian counting system previous since I kinda combined it with binary which I did know how to count).

Behold! A diagram!

We will address the 69 shaped elephant in the room later.

Let's bring in the close-ups for the discussion!

Including 0 (which would be an open claw in the same way a closed fist for a human is 0) the cerebrocrustacean number system using this diagram ends up being a base 9 (nonary) system, an odd-numbered system that I am not going to get into because I am only using hands as our counting origin. While functionally in decimal (because I practiced counting this way to stress test the system) you can count from 1-80 (each section on the tens claw corresponding to a multiple of 9 ending at 72), but with the fact that you can count up to 8 in each claw in a nonary system, it's actually counting up to the equivalent of 99 with only hands alone. Considering that the limitations of claws is that there isn't a vast landscape to count with, cerebrocrustaceans make do by counting each section of a claw twice, once from it's inner side and another on it's outer side going from, using the tip to count by touching the corresponding number.

The order from 1-8 is counted first in the (typically) right claw by the pollex (the inner claw) on the inner edge of the pincer (the outer claw) from bottom to top. Then the pincer bends to allow for the pollex to reach the outer edge, tapping the top claw then the bottom claw. Then the pincer follows the same steps to the pollex, counting from inside bottom to top, then outside top to bottom. The pincer has a little more reach being the larger of the two claws, but the pollex folds more because it has more mobility.

As a nonary system, there is no 9 and instead the 'nine' in this instance is 10, which is counted in the same order as 1-8 but done in the (typically) left claw, mimicking binary in how it accents the units of the right claw by adding an additional ten relevant to the corresponding claw.

Admittedly I had no rhyme or reason to display these claws in the order that they're in, but if cerebrocrustacean number systems are written in the same way it's counted then technically inside out, right to left, would probably be a pretty cool and also pretty hostile way to convey numbers (hah, reference to heavy out-grouping biases).

The main goal of the claw positions is to make at least an easily distinguishable set of numbers that don't blur (too much) between each other if you kinda look at it from silhouette alone. Not sure how successful I was but it isn't the actual numbers in written form themselves, so it's a different ball-park and more of a visualisation of the dexterity used to count.

And now- gotteem!

A funny thing about making a counting system and like, actually practicing how it feels and how to actually count, is that you sometimes stumble into comedy gold and get a 69 on the decimal 69 (if you twist your hands around to mimic it at least) plus just hitting you with an almost perfect 👌👌just made me want to actually visualise this. Well... I was gonna visualise it anyway since it helps to provide an example on how cerebrocrustacean's count with claws but like- yeagh I don't care that odd-numbered bases are not optimal I'm keeping the nonary system for this joke alone (not actually but it's a bonus)!

Anyway- don't ask me how they do math and have a good time counting to 76!

[orcelito]

Did driving practice today. Actually did parallel parking practice this time, even tho I really didn't want to still. Finally got it into my head that I can maybe do this.

SO......

I have scheduled my driving test. For November 13th, 3 weeks from today.

[running-in-the-dark]

I've got a psychiatrist appointment tomorrow. mostly to discuss if the new sleep medication is working. it is.. not? I don't know. it sorta makes me stay asleep better but tbh that only really means it's even more impossible to wake up when I need to.

idk at this point I'm getting close to just saying you know what? thank you for trying to help, mr. nice old psychiatrist guy, but let's just give up! who needs sleep anyway (me, like 12-16 hours a day). I'm just not gonna do it anymore! that sounds more doable than ever figuring out how to sleep normally!!

[hypnified]

This oc post is taking years off my lifespan

[thepandalion]

ok hot take that's been sitting in brain for a while now but like... why are we as a society normalizing and even glorifying not getting enough sleep?

like, maybe it's just because I medically require 10 hours of sleep so as to not straight up go unconscious at random points during the day, but I see people talk about how staying up until 2am is "amature shit" and you can do with less

guys. sleep is great. its so important and not getting enough sleep can fuck you up so bad on so many fronts. stop bragging about getting no sleep all week. the fanfics will wait. I have previously tried staying up to 11pm once to finish a fic, didn't even finish it, then fell asleep at work for 4 hours. over a half our of missing sleep

for that matter we should also yell at workplaces that make it harder to get necessary sleep

like. people on call 24 hours. doctors and stuff pulling all nighters and 24 hour shifts and stuff. that's not bragworthy. thats fucked up

[ace-of-garlic-breads]

Did I pull 2 all nighters in a week?

Yes.

Did the one I pull Friday to Saturday mean I got to sleep at 11 last night and get up at 9 today.

Yes.

[fragglerockopinions]

.

[orionangeline]

So

my dad's coming over for his birthday brunch at noon (he says) and I've been going to bed at 11 (am)

On a scale of 1 coffee to 3 energy drinks how screwed am I

It is 4am now and I am not remotely sleepy

[skellydun]

Actual Phone Conversation I Had With A Girl Absolutely Going Through It This Morning:

me very quickly: hi this is dylan from x. how are you today? is now a good time to talk?

girl on the phone: what? oh you know! it's just work, work, work.

me: haha yeah! Just another busy Monday :)

girl on the phone i have known for exactly 11 seconds: sometimes i wish it would just stop. it's relentless. and it's every week! how many mondays can someone go through?

me trying to do my job: ha ha i know right? so I'm calling--

girl on the phone i have known for exactly 16 seconds: i'm so tired. i'm soooooo tired. shelby kept me up all night again. she will not get over keegan. they keep calling each other just to yell i swear to god.

me: only 4 days till the weekend and some sleep! :D

girl: yeah. but she's sleeping with me. at my house. didn't he tell you? who is going to get the dog? or the fucking 300 dollar blender I got them?

me: unfortunately no! so i would love to know more but the reason i'm calling is to get you scheduled for x job interview are you still interested?

girl whispering: what?

me awkwardly: it's...i'm dylan. from x. the x job you applied for. we would like to interview you for it.

girl: oh my god. no. oh my - I am so sorry. I thought you were my friend--I cannot believe--I told you work was relentless. I don't really mean that! I talked about blenders!

me: no, no I totally get it. It can be. But that's why you're interviewing for somewhere better! Tell Shelby to apply too! Do you have any availability on Thursday?

[milo-is-rambling]

Thinking about drinking again want to be home alone forever that’s called moving out idiot get a job lol thanks brain anyways where’s the vodka

[bunny-jpeg]

Love love LOVE your writing ❤️. Can I please place a "picky" order?

Profiteroles with Hard lemonade & Cider on the side with Max Verstappen?

(hold the bun in oven if it's not too much. pregnancy is my least favorite trope) 😅🙏🏻

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu!! there are tons of items that are hopefully to your liking! as for this anon, thank you for the order! don't worry about being 'picky', i'd rather you like the fic than not, haha. but you did pick some nice prompts for your order! so enjoy!

profiteroles ("come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go.") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) + cider (body worship) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, needy!max, possessive behaviour, body worship, uni student!reader, doggy style, praise

you could've gone all summer break just sleeping. to be curled up next to your lover, max verstappen, and sleeping. occasionally getting up for food or a shower, but staying in the confines of the apartment he lived in.

currently you were living in england to finish your studies in university, which made it hard to see the world class formula one driver. even when he was in england for silverstone, it was hard to fit into one another's schedule.

so for months since the beginning of the season you two lived most of your relationship through discord. so away from school and away from racing, you wanted to just sleep in your lover's arms.

max had other plans.

you woke up to the feeling of max's lips on your skin, his hands on your soft thighs. you groaned and opened your eyes. you made a small noise when you felt his tight grip on you.

"max." you said softly, "can't wait for breakfast."

he kissed at your neck, "no, i can't. i need you." his hand slipped between your legs and rubbed against your pussy. you were both naked from the night before when max spent what felt like hours fingering you before he eventually slipped into you.

even now, he still couldn't get enough. he wanted you deeply, like a piece of lead in his chest. the months apart have made him a little possessive over you, jealous of the other students that you mingled with at your school.

he sighed, "i need you, really badly. i want myself all over you. inside and out." he had already kept that promise with the amount of hickies on your chest and the verstappen logo t-shirts in your suitcase.

he was acting as if your name wasn't on his wikipedia page and his photos weren't plastered all over your instagram. literally over dinner last night, you took photos together before he had you face down in his soft mattress.

you knew that your birth control was working over time this trip, for when max got too lost into the rhythm of his thrusts to pull out. he continued to rub against your slit and you moaned a little bit in response.

he chuckled and kissed at your neck with such love, he rubbed his cock up against your behind and buried his nose back into your neck. he started to really focus in on your clit as he made you squirm a little but against him.

"you feel so good." he said softly, "my pretty little treasure. do you know how much i love you. i thought about you every day on the track, can't you take a semester off and see me race every weekend."

you squirmed a little, feeling the heat bloom in your face, "max, fuck."

he rubbed up against your further, almost pushing you under his weight. his fingers grazed across his clit and you moaned a little louder into the covers.

you moaned, "please."

"i'm worried you forget all about me at university." he said, "all those men you could meet, makes me a little worried."

you swallowed, "i could never, max. shit. i love you too much." you squirmed a little harder but as he pressed more weight onto you, you could do little about it. you were stuck under him, and were moved around by his hands.

he got onto his knees behind you and pushed your further into the soft pillows. his cock twitched as he rubbed up against you. he loved the sight of you, the softness of your thighs, the curve of your back. the roundness of your ass and the sweetness of your cunt.

not to mention your beautiful eyes that draw him in, your lips that made him want to go in for hot kisses. you were a complete package.

"i love you." he said. he couldn't stand the idea of losing you. not that you were going anywhere fast, but sometimes the space between you two left anxiety clawing in his gut.

but, now, being so close to you. calmed the anxiety in his head as he pushed into you. feeling his cock slip into your sweet hole. he sighed through his tense jaw as he started to move against you.

you whimpered and clutched onto the covers. you arched your back and felt your heart race in your chest as you held onto tightly. to have your ass in the air and max's cock deep inside of your pussy.

"you feel amazing. i've thought about this cunt every fucking day we were apart." he groaned as he found a comfortable pace. he could feel the heat down his back as he moved against you.

"shit, max. i thought about you every day. it's hard to focus on classes when you're getting flirty texts from your boyfriend." you giggled a little before a moan left your lips.

he smiled a little bit, the thought that he was on your mind all the time. that he had nestled between those ears of yours while you two were so far apart. he hunched over you further, really working his cock inside of you.

you in turn sounded delightful under him, his perfect girl. his treasure. you panted, "yeah, everyone talks about their stupid boyfriends and all i can think about is you on the track, winning, for us." you moaned a little louder.

he groaned, he loved the sound of that. the sound of you, the love you carried for him. it was an intense feeling in his gut as he continued to push his cock into you. he heard you pant and whine as the sounds of sex filled the room. he could feel every noise in the pit of his stomach with each thrust.

"i love you. i need you." he panted as he moved against you, "always and forever. you're my angel, my treasure." he shuddered.

you panted heavily the more you two moved against one another. you gasped and moaned into the covers the more he rocked into you. his thrusts quickened and you felt hot all over.

"i love you." he said again

you whined, "i love you too, max. so fuckin' much." you arched your back a little further the more the pleasure went through your system.

"mine." he groaned.

you panted, "shit. max. god." you felt his cock in the deepest parts of you and it flooded your brain with want. you came around his cock quickly, your hips moved a little bit as you chased your orgasm. you wiped your face up against the covers, trying to get rid of the sweat on your brow.

he gave a few more heavy thrusts before he pulled out and finished all over your back. marking your soft skin. you whined and arched your back a little at the lingering pleasure. his pace staggered before it slowed to a stop. he shakily exhaled and dropped down beside you.

he pulled you into a tight grasp and laid down onto the bed. he panted heavily as he curled up around you. he said between heavy pants, "come away with me. for a week, together. anywhere you want, we'll go."

"anywhere?" you asked as you linked your fingers with his.

he nodded against your head and felt relaxed, "yes, anywhere. i just want to be with you. i missed you." he kissed at your face and held onto you. he adored you, he loved every inch of you.

you held onto his bicep and kissed him on the lips softly. you rubbed your thighs together. you smiled at him, "alright. you and me, anywhere. spend the rest of the break hidden away from everyone."

he nodded, "yeah, exactly." he smiled at you. he kissed you once more. the jealousy in his gut seemed to fade for now. he kept you nestled in his arms.

anywhere you'd go, he'd follow. his favourite person on the planet. <3

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,593 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: not really specified, but Negan calls you "doll" and "darlin'" often Warnings: language (the usual), some flirty!Negan Era: Alexandria, post-Negan Summary: Negan and the reader must weather the storm and the horde overnight and find someway to get back to Alexandria. A/N: Sorry this came later than I hoped to get it out. This is why I try to 1.) never write two series at once and 2.) never make a posting schedule because I usually can't adhere to it haha some parts just take longer to get right... so thanks for your patience and HAPPY WICKED WEDNESDAY! Previous part - Part 3

The storm overhead was still raging. Tucked away in the basement mostly underground you heard it only as a dull roar. The wind occasionally whistled and howled lending a haunting soundtrack to your sheltering.

Negan had dug out a couple sleeping bags and used one to cushion his seat on another box of supplies, his back leaned up against the wall and his long legs kicked out toward you.

“Can I have that?” you asked, gesturing to the other bag. You were sitting on the floor and the concrete was cold. He tossed it over to you and you folded it and placed it underneath yourself, sitting down in more comfort. You sighed and leaned back against the wall behind you, shutting your eyes for a moment. You could feel Negan looking at you.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything about you?” You cracked one eye open and looked at him, drawing a laugh from deep in his chest. It was resonant and warm, like the sound from a rosewood guitar. “We’ve been doing this for—I don’t know, three months now and I don’t know a damn thing besides your name,” Negan said, twirling the fireplace poker in his hand.

You sighed and sat up again. “What do you want to know?”

“What’d you do before all this?”

“Before the outbreak?”

“Yeah. Before everything went to shit.”

“Uhh… actually, I was a stripper.”

Negan froze, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “Really?”

“No!” you laughed. “But it seems like you were hoping for something juicy like that,” you said with a self-satisfied smirk. “God, it’s so easy it’s not even fun!”

He laughed heartily. “Alright, smartass… But can you blame me? Shit, I was about to ask for a private performance.”

“I’m sure you were,” you retorted.

“I noticed that you still didn’t answer the question,” Negan said.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you said with a smile. It crinkled the corners of your eyes and Negan found himself suddenly gulping, nervous. He was nervous? “You know, it’s not like I really know a ton about you either.”

“Well, you know about my Savior days. That’s more than I know about you.”

“Is it?” you asked, one of your eyebrows arching.

Negan felt as if a continent shifted inside him when you looked at him like that; inquiring and graceful and steady. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I think—and this is just my opinion, but I think that was a mask,” you said. “It’s almost as if you were playacting. But maybe you convinced yourself that it was the real you or maybe it was in some ways, for a time, and so everyone else around you believed it. It was convincing to watch.”

Negan gulped. He had that same sensation again, as if you were seeing into his core, his true center. “Jesus, doll, maybe fucking warn me before you say some shit like that again.” But there was no trace of jest or sarcasm in his voice and his expression was sincere as he stared back at you. His hazel eyes looked like there was a glow in them that was shifting like the heat moving over the coals of a fire. Was it turmoil? He drew in a deep breath. “Well, what’s the difference, if I was pretending or not? I still did what I did.”

“It matters,” you replied softly. “First of all, because it’s painful to not be seen, to not have your true self perceived, to be invisible in a way. And—when you’ve been hiding in any kind of shadow for a long time, like behind a mask, it’s all the more painful to—to seek out the light, to feel. To be awake. It’s easier to just—pretend.”

Negan’s brow furrowed heavily as you spoke and his hands were still on the iron rod, fingers curled around the chill of the metal. “You’re talking as if you know something about that,” he replied.

You smiled at him vaguely, sighing a little and leaning your head back against the wall again. “Maybe I’m just observant.”

“Alright,” he nodded. His tongue swept out over his bottom lip. “Well, you know about Savior Negan, whether it was a mask or not… and you know that I was a high school gym teacher and coach, and I still know absolutely fuck-all about you,” he said.

“Correct,” you replied.

Negan sighed, looking disappointed. He stared around the room aimlessly for a moment, clicking his tongue thoughtfully and spinning the iron rod in his hand. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked suddenly.

You laughed. “So, you’re switching to small talk now?”

He shrugged. “What the hell else are we gonna do?”

It seemed harmless enough. “Green,” you said.

“Green,” he nodded. “Hmm. Favorite food?”

You shot him an amused look. “Is this even entertaining?”

He only shrugged again and smiled at you expectantly.

“Raspberries,” you said.

“That’s lucky,” he said, scratching at his beard. “You can still get those. In fact, aren’t there a bunch of raspberry plants back home?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Did you just say back home?” you asked.

“Oh. Shit! Fuck me sideways, doll, I think I did,” he laughed, looking stunned himself. He let out a scoff and shook his head.

“That was… unexpected,” you replied.

“Well, how long do you have to live someplace before you call it home? Even in a cell, I guess time matters.”

“I don’t know. Home has always been a feeling for me, more than a place,” you said.

“Hmm. That seems like it could be telling,” Negan said, absently rubbing a hand over his beard again.

You rolled your eyes. “Now who sounds like a shrink?” you retorted. He laughed a little and shrugged.

“Alright. Green. Raspberries. Got it. Next question…”

“Negan…” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face, feeling suddenly bashful at his probing and focused interest in you.

“Come on, doll. Just humor me.” He sighed and stretched, thinking. “Favorite season?”

“I can’t choose a favorite. I like different things about all of them.” Then, you paused thoughtfully. “But fuck southern summers.”

Negan smiled widely. “I can agree to that. What was your first car?”

“Pfft… the city bus,” you said. “You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel here on the questions.”

“I’m—working up to the really interesting ones… But really? You never had a car? Not even a rusty shitbox?”

You shook your head. “Nope. In fact, I didn’t even learn to drive until after the outbreak.”

Negan’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell. That must have been terrifying. Everything shut down and you were just—”

“—stuck,” you finished. You were staring down at your hands and fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your shirt. “Though, most of the roadways were pretty clogged up quickly so it probably didn’t matter all that much. The only people who got out of the cities anyway were the ones who left as soon as there was a whiff of trouble. And then came the riots and the bombings and—”

A shadow darkened Negan’s face. “Fucking hell. You were in a city city when shit went down.”

You suddenly realized what you’d revealed and looked up at him, your breath caught in your throat at the sudden rush of memories unbidden. You gulped at the tightness in your throat and nodded. “Yeah. I was, um—I was in Atlanta.”

“That’s where you found Rick’s group,” Negan said. It wasn’t really a question.

You nodded. “More like they found me,” you said, ducking your eyes again. It wasn’t lost on Negan that you were avoiding his gaze. He sensed that there was still a wound there, unhealed, deep down. Perhaps it was one that would never truly heal. “But it also wasn’t really Rick’s group then. He’d just met all of them too, like the day before. But Daryl, Rick, T-dog, and—and Glenn,” your voice broke when you said Glenn’s name, but it wasn’t just for him that your voice wavered. “They found me. Helped me.” You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. “Now, it’s just me, Carol, and Daryl left, out of all of us at the beginning.”

There was a soft frown on Negan’s face, creases in his forehead, when you looked back up, but it wasn’t pity. It was just… sympathy and no small amount of guilt. “I’m—sorry,” he said. His deep voice somehow seemed to cut through the air between you and right to the bone. “I know I had a part in that. And I’m truly sorry.” You were startled to see that his eyes were slightly glassy.

“Yeah, well… you don’t owe that apology to me. You owe it to Maggie and her son far more,” you said, shifting on the sleeping bag you were sitting on. A shiver suddenly wracked through you and you hugged your arms around yourself. The fingers of the cold, damp of the cellar seemed to be slowly finding their way in under your clothing. “I thought you were supposed to only be asking me small talk questions? How’d we get here?” you said with a wry laugh.

But Negan wasn’t really listening. He was digging out the jacket he’d shed earlier and tucked into his pack. “Here,” he said. He tossed it over to you.

You caught it, and then fixed your eyes back on him. “Oh. I’m okay,” you tried to argue.

Negan smiled at you, a small one that had his hazel eyes looking bright. “I just saw you shiver. I already think you’re a badass, doll. A little chill isn’t fucking changing that.”

You sighed, and relented. “Alright…” you murmured, pulling on the jacket. It swallowed up your frame, hanging on your shoulders and bunching around your wrists, and Negan couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling that suddenly manifested in between his lungs.

“Thanks,” you murmured, huddling into the fabric.

“Of course. Seems like we’re gonna be here a while,” Negan said. “Actually—” he pulled the top off a bin beside him and grabbed a camping stove and lighter. “We’ve got a stove, water… MREs. You’ve got those tea leaves we foraged on the way in?”

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Yeah?”

“Perfect,” he said. “It’s about dinnertime by now. Sit back and relax!”

You laughed a little skeptically at him. “You’re gonna… cook me dinner?”

“I don’t think heating up some MREs and tea qualifies as cooking. You should see me in a real kitchen. It’s a real panty-dropped,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus…”

He laughed heartily and started setting up the stove. “No, no. You can still call me ‘Negan’,” he quipped, winking at you.

“Okay… don’t ever wink at me again,” you retorted, which only made him laugh harder.

“That is a promise that I am not willing to make. Or keep,” he joked. “Now, hand me some of those raspberry leaves you picked.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You stretched lazily, your eyes still closed for a moment, before you shot up straight, remembering where you were and the events of the previous day. Your eyes were wide as you realized that at some point over the course of the night, you’d fallen asleep. Part of you expected to see that Negan had somehow gotten ahold of your gun or knife, despite them always being stored securely on your person. But you didn’t have any need to worry. When you looked across the small, dingy space, he was still perched on the same box of supplies he had been the night before, though his long legs were now stretched out and up on another box.

He was smiling at you serenely, the fireplace poker resting across his knees. “Morning, doll.”

You gulped. “I—I fell asleep.”

“You sure did,” he said. You could tell he hadn’t slept at all. His voice was a bit gruff and undeniably tired. He’d kept watch all night. “You snore by the way.”

You hastily smoothed your hair and clothes, staring back at him. “What? I do not!” you argued.

He laughed. “Yeah, you do. But it’s okay. I found it strangely comforting actually. Nearly put me to sleep.”

“Shut up,” you said, standing up and stretching again.

“Don’t flirt,” he retorted, still smiling serenely.

You paced over toward the one narrow window in the basement and looked up at the quality of light filtering through the dirty glass. It was clearly early morning and the storm had passed. More than that, you couldn’t see or hear any of the dead outside. “Seems like the herd moved on.”

“Mhm,” Negan hummed in agreement. “It all got quiet in the early hours of this morning.”

“You stayed awake all night?”

He nodded, standing now too. “Yeah. Somebody else was slacking off after their gourmet meal,” he teased you.

You ground your teeth together, angry at yourself for falling asleep. “You should have woken me up. And ‘gourmet’ seems like a stretch for an expired MRE don’t you think?”

“With locally sourced tea? Come on, people would have paid a pretty fucking penny for that shit in the old world.”

You laughed a little and shook your head, then turned and fixed your eyes on him with a deeply perplexed expression on your face.

“What? That’s quite a look for first thing in the morning,” Negan said. “I can’t have fucked up that bad already!”

“Why—why didn’t you leave?” you said. “As soon as the herd cleared and the storm settled… you could have disappeared, taken some supplies.” The jacket he’d given to you the night before was still hanging on your smaller frame. The sleeves had slipped down over your hands and you hastily pushed them back up. “You know what you’re going back to.”

He just kept smiling back at you, his expression surprisingly soft and genuine, no trace of his usual jest or masking. It was doing something to you, stirring up a whir of fluttering just below your lungs that was impossible to ignore. You gulped, trying to clear the sensation. He paced toward you, stopping within a foot. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why I stayed,” he said.

Your brow only furrowed even more deeply. “You’re a prisoner,” you said plainly.

Negan shrugged. “Am I? I think I’m starting to fucking forget that…” His hazel eyes were flickering over your face, studying your features. You were the one to fell a sudden wave of emotions cresting up within you and you backed away from it.

“We should—see if the coast is clear,” you said softly, ducking your eyes. “Get back to the car. Everyone back home will be worried. They may even have come looking already.”

Negan smiled to himself. He’d felt something in the air profoundly, but he’d also seen how you’d stepped away and the spell was broken. “Okay,” he said simply.

The two of you gathered up your essential gear and headed up the steps cautiously, listening at the barricaded basement door for any noises on the other side. You pounded on the door with your bandaged hand and pressed your ear to the wood. Nothing. Steady silence.

“Okay,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t hear anything. You can hang onto that poker until we know for sure the house is clear, but then you’ll have to leave it behind. Got it?”

Negan agreed, a little hesitantly, but he wasn’t going to argue with you this time.

You unblocked the door, lifting the wooden board you’d secured it with the night before, being careful to avoid the sharp metal brackets this time. The next moment, you slowly pushed it open.

The house was clear and once you’d thoroughly looked out through windows on all sides of the house, he begrudgingly left the iron fireplace poker behind. Stepping outside, the destruction from the storm and the horde were blatantly evident. Most of the windows in the surrounding buildings, including the house you’d sheltered in, were busted or hailed out. There were large branches blown down off trees and the leaves of many were also shredded in the hailstorm and wind. Shingles and scraps of siding and wood were lying in the scraggly patches of grass.

“Good thing we didn’t try to make it out in the car. I’ll be surprised if the windshield is intact when we get back to it,” you said, nudging a shingle with your boot.

“Yeah,” Negan agreed. “What’s the plan? We still have all those supplies to load up.”

“Um… I guess we can try to get the car in here and load them up. That side road didn’t look too bad on the way in.”

The two of you headed that direction immediately, still on guard and wondering where the herd had gone to. Knowing only hours had passed, it was possible they weren’t far at all. But you arrived at the car safely. However, there was another problem.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you swore, staring at the scene in front of you.

Negan stopped beside you and all he could do was laugh wryly. “Well, shit.”

A huge old cottonwood tree had come down in the storm and the trunk had entirely crushed the car. You sighed and dropped your pack down beside you heaving a huge sigh. “Well… Daryl and Michonne will have noticed by now that we aren’t back. Let’s hope they’re already on their way.” The two of you waited by the car, and luckily it wasn’t long before you saw an approaching vehicle down the old highway. The two of you scrambled into cover, just in case it wasn’t who you were hoping for.

But it was. A truck pulled up and you saw Daryl behind the wheel as it stopped behind your smashed vehicle. Aaron, Rosita, and Daryl piled out and quickly ran to check the car. That’s when the two of you stepped out of cover on the side of the road.

“Hey!” you called out to them. “Can’t tell you how happy I am to see you all,” you said, jogging over. Negan walked over more slowly, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Hell of a storm,” you said, gesturing at the smashed car.

“Goddamn, ‘m so glad to see ya in one piece,” Daryl said, pulling you quickly into a one-armed hug, his crossbow in the other hand. “We were worried sick, but figured it was the storm. Are ya okay?” he asked, shooting a tense look in Negan’s direction. “What happened to your hand?” he asked, noticing the bandage.

“I’m good. Just cut it while scavenging. It’s fine. How’s Alexandria? Everyone okay after the crazy wind and everything?”

“Yeah, all good. Definitely better than yer car,” he said, looking at the crushed vehicle.

“Thank God you weren’t inside,” Rosita said, slinging her rifle over her back.

“No. Instead we were trapped by a horde in a house,” you explained, crossing your arms.

“A horde?” Aaron repeated. “You’re serious?”

You nodded gravely. “Yeah. I was worried you were going to run into them on the highway to be honest. They moved on overnight.”

Negan was standing nearby, looking out of place. Daryl kept shooting him tense glances.

“We found a pile of supplies though, in a hidden survivalist cellar. I bet we can get a vehicle to the house and load them up, especially with your four-wheel drive vehicle.”

“At least something good came out of your trip then!” Aaron said cheerfully, patting your shoulder. “Glad you’re safe.”

You nodded and you all started back towards their truck. Daryl fell into step beside you. “Hey—” he started in an undertone. “Everything really went okay? Even with him?” he asked.

You nodded and felt your cheeks flushing inexplicably. “Yeah.” You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should even tell him this… but you did. “I—I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep overnight. Negan stayed up on watch the whole time, Daryl. He could have—taken my weapons, overpowered me—the herd and storm were clear. He could have left, disappeared. But he didn’t. He stayed,” you explained in a low voice. “I—I don’t understand it.”

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, his brow furrowed deeply, shadows cast over his blue eyes. He looked up and caught Negan staring in your direction. “’M glad yer safe, especially considerin’ that. But ya gotta be more careful.”

You sighed. “I know. I’m already angry at myself. I just—I don’t understand why he stayed,” you said, hesitating with your hand on the door handle of the truck.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “‘M startin’ to have an idea.”

[suiana]

hihi!! yr posts are so funky i love them sm

ya have any ideas for a yandere that has no actual connection - like, you've never even seen them before and yet it's stuff like "i didn't leave that book open" - "where did my favorite shirt go" - "i just woke up why am i so sticky" rjfjfhjf

omgee I've actually been thinking about this lately HAHA,, thank u anon for giving me motivation to write this <3

✎ yandere! stalker headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― stalking, nsfw, obsessiveness, slight violence, delusional yandere etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! stalker who is absolutely obsessed with you. you don't even know him yet his whole life is dedicated to you! how romantic <3

✎ yandere! stalker who has completely memorized your schedule and everything about you. he swears that he can answer any question about you :) no one knows you better than him, not even yourself!

✎ yandere! stalker who doesn't even remember when or where his obsession for you started from. babe, you never even talked to him before! so how did he fall so deeply for you? truly a mystery...

✎ yandere! stalker who gives you plenty of gifts. you could wake up with a random box of chocolates or with your laundry done! though a shirt or two might be missing! truly a pleasant surprise, no? your stalker hopes you like his gifts! :)

✎ yandere! stalker who has so many pictures of you that it's insane. what the fuck, how does he even get these??

✎ yandere! stalker who protects you from dirty people. that weird associate who made you uncomfortable? he suddenly went missing! that old uncle who was staring at you in a nasty way? brutally beaten up in a dark alleyway! don't worry your pretty little head darling, your stalker is there to protect you ♡

✎ yandere! stalker who masterbates to the thought of you every night. god you're perfect! he wishes you would notice him :( but he supposed that you not noticing is for the better... for now.

✎ yandere! stalker who is rich and likes spending his fortune on you. your phone is slightly chipped? get ready to wake up with a brand new phone on your desk :) oh, how he loves watching your cute reactions through the teddy bear he once gifted to you <3

✎ yandere! stalker who starts to grow bolder once you've warmed up to his gifts. oh? so you like his gifts? that means you like him now right? stalker, babe, that's not how it works that means he can start getting more personal with you right?

✎ yandere! stalker who starts to touch you in your sleep. your reciprocation towards his gifts is a sign that you're okay with this right? right?!

✎ yandere! stalker who is hysterical when he sees you talking to you friends about how you hate waking up slimy in the morning. what do you mean you hate his gift to you?! do you hate him now?!

✎ yandere! stalker who gifts you multiple things to try and apologize. you must be mad at him! you surely must be! even if you don't know who he is, your complaints about being sticky is a subtle sign of your anger towards him! he can't have his reason of living being mad now, can he?

✎ yandere! stalker who impulsively kidnaps you once you decide to make a police report. no! he can't lose you to those scummy officers!

✎ yandere! stalker who knocks you out so hard that you lose your memories. and when you wake up he tells you that he's your husband. a manic grin adorning his features as he does so. this must god's way of giving him a second chance! honey... no!!

✎ yandere! stalker who would change anything about himself for you. he exists for you only. anything he does is for you. he is yours to control. he should be anything and everything you want. so please, tell him what you like! he'll do anything in his power to achieve it. even if it means dying for you.

✎ "haah~ I love you so much ♡"