#i'm obviously off my rocker

[aeide-thea]

poäng appreciation post 💛

[munsonsmixtapes]

Heelllooooooo!!!

It's been a while since I've requested.. life got busy, and I am glad to be bavk on here..

Catching up on my favorite writers stories!!!

I seen your post about wanting steddie requestsssss

So I had a steddiexreader request...

So I'm a bigger girl, and my bestie just showed me that I CAN wear fish nets.. (we did a spooky ghost photo shoot)

And I instantly thought of reader showing Steddie or surprising them with a COMPLETE wardrobe change, going from sweat pants/baggy shirts to short dresses, fish nets, heels, or rocker themed outfits, leather skirts, cropped(?) band tees (because I love seeing it on other bigger girls but I can't get myself to wear it)

Just a complete change in attitude and self love even though she is still slightly self conscious on how she looks.. and they both lose their mindssss

Smut welcomed because obviously

🫡

First off, I just wanna say fuck yes!! As a chubby girl myself, I also love seeing women who look like me wearing whatever the fuck they want! I love writing about women who look more like me and the characters I love loving on them because they deserve it! I’ve been so excited to write this request so thank you so much for sending it in!

cw: MDNI (18+) oral (f receiving) nipple play, body worship, body insecurity

You sit on the bed in your robe, hoping that it covers your outfit well. You’re planning on surprising your boyfriends when they come home from work. It was as if a switch had flipped and you had taken a few days while they were at work to completely change your wardrobe. And you hadn’t done it for them, it was purely for you as you had suddenly gotten a boost of confidence. Gone were the baggy clothes as they were replaced with cropped band tees, leather skirts, and tight dresses like the one you’re wearing that was accompanied by a pair of fishnet tights that Robin had convinced you to buy. 

And while you weren’t doing it for the boys, you were still intending on surprising them with the intention of getting them to show you just how hot they thought you were. Even if they did that all the time. They are both very aware of your insecurity and try their best to make it known just how much they love you for who you are.

You hear the front door unlock and put yourself in what you think is a sexy position, waiting for them to come into the room. The door opens and both Eddie and Steve stare at you as you lay on your side, your hand slowly trailing to where the robe was tied. 

“What is going on here?” Steve asks as steps closer, taking your hands in his hand, helping you to your feet. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, what are you hiding under that robe?” Eddie asks, moving to the other side of you. You open the robe quickly and both men gasp as they take in the skin tight black number you’ve got on. It’s lacy, so much so that they can see through every inch. The bra that you’re wearing and that little black thong that’s doing things to them. 

“Jesus,” is all Steve is able to say as a gasp leaves his lips. 

“Fuck,” Eddie adds. “Sweetheart, you look-” he cuts himself off and you’re quick to close the robe back as you throw yourself onto the bed, wanting it to swallow you up. You can’t believe you actually thought it would work. 

“I feel so fucking stupid,” you say into the pillow loud enough for both of the to hear and they’re quick to sit on either side of you, Eddie rubbing your back while Steve strokes your hair, moving it away from your face. 

“Honey, you’re not stupid,” he says softly and you turn your head to his side so he can see you. 

“So you don’t think I look ridiculous?” You ask, your voice small. 

“Not at all,” he shakes his head. “You look fucking hot. I mean, you always do, but this little thing? Wow.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Fuck, doll,” he groans and you turn onto your back as Eddie leans over, his lips right by your ear. “The thing we’d do to you.” 

Your cheeks flush at his comment and you lie flat, deciding to take him up off his offer. You look up at both of them as they stare down at you, wondering how you’ve gotten so lucky as to have both of them as your boyfriends. They love you for who you are and you don’t know why you get so insecure around them sometimes. They have proved their love to you time and time again and you don’t know why it’s so hard to believe them when it’s clear that they’re telling the truth.

Steve is the first to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips and you’re quick to respond, your hand moving to the back of his head. It slips into his hair and you’re pulling at it as his tongue slides into your mouth, causing you to moan. Eddie is on your left, his mouth pressing to your neck, giving it a rough suck that causes you to gasp and he just chuckles. And once you’re moaning, the two of them move lower to your chest, trying to remove your dress and you have to talk them through it because of how complicated it is. 

Steve and Eddie manage to get the dress off of you and Eddie tosses it to the side before the two of them bring their mouths to your tits, one for each of them. Their tongues are swirling around your nipples and you swear you’re going to have an orgasm right there. 

“So pretty, baby,” Steve murmurs against your skin. He’s always so complimentary and it never fails to make you feel better about yourself. His tone is gentle and you know he means what he’s saying every time. You can see it in his honey eyes.

“Prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen,” Eddie adds. His compliments are more forward, more dirty than Steve’s, but you love how different they are from each other. They’re your boys and they never back down from an opportunity to tell you or show you just how much they love you. 

They each take one of your hands as they work, licking and sucking roughly as kind words fall  from their lips every so often. They’ve gotten so good at giving you exactly what you need when you need it and it always surprises you how they always seem to be able to read your mind. 

They’ve done this exact thing more times than you can count, but you can’t help but notice how different this one is. How you’ve managed to let your thoughts float out of your brain and just focus on what’s happening. In the past, you would just think about how exposed you feel, but right now, all you can think about is how good it all feels.

You’re about to respond when Steve sucks on your nipple he’s got in his mouth and Eddie brings the other one between his teeth, biting down gently. Steve eventually catches on and does the same thing, biting down on your nipple and you’re holding onto the sheets underneath for dear life as a loud moan falls from your lips, an orgasm already rolling through you. 

Your back arches as you reach completion and suddenly, you feel the insecurity lessen, especially when they’re coaching you through the orgasm, using every nickname they have for you with the most gentle tones. 

“That’s it, hon,” Steve encourages as the two of them pull away just in time to watch you. 

“Just like that, sweetheart,” Eddie nods. They think you’re satisfied with what they’ve just done, but you’re still begging for more, needing something else. And they’re more than happy to oblige. Anything to keep their girl happy. 

They’re kissing down your body, murmured compliments falling from their lips and you feel nothing but love radiating from the two of them. This is honestly the best you’ve ever felt, especially during sex with your boyfriends. You feel like a new woman, no longer shy about responding positively to their touches. 

“I love these,” Eddie says as he lets his fingers run along your hip bone where you’ve got a cluster of stretch marks. 

“You do?” You ask in shock. That seemed to be the one thing that always turned people off so you had gotten into the habit of covering them up. 

“Mhm,” he nods. “So pretty,” he compliments before bringing his lips to the skin, pressing soft kisses to it. And Steve follows, doing the same thing on your other hip, his lips ghosting over your skin, being so gentle with you. 

Steve and Eddie then get on the floor in front of you, each pulling on a leg to pull you closer to them and before you can ask what they’re doing, they’re grabbing hold of your legs and lowering their heads down to your inner thighs, pulling at the fishnets with their teeth and all you can hear is a loud ripping sound as holes are being torn in your tights. 

And you don’t even mind. In fact, you think it’s really hot, how they’re both so desperate to get to your cunt. After a few minutes, they manage to rip from your thighs to your crotch and together, they pull your thong down before each of them rest a hand on your knees as they spread your legs to see what they’re working with. 

“Is all of this for us?” Eddie asks as he stares down at your sopping wet cunt. “Shit, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have. Good thing we brought our appetite, huh, Stevie?” He nudges his boyfriend and they then each drape one of your legs over one of their shoulders. 

And in the blink of an eye, they dive straight into your cunt, Eddie going for your cunt while Steve goes for your slit, they’re both working their magic with their mouths and you’re embarrassed at how you feel like you’re already going to orgasm again. 

“You taste even better than the other night,” Eddie says. “God, could eat you for hours, doll.”

“I agree. You taste absolutely divine,” Steve agrees and then they’re at it again, licking and sucking on your cunt roughly and you’re grasping onto the sheets so hard that you’re practically white-knuckling it. What they’re doing feels so good that you feel your eyes rolling back into your head, your hands moving to their hair, giving it a rough tug in response to the pleasure that’s rolling through you. And just when you think they’re close, Steve’s tongue enters you and your thighs push their heads together as his tongue hits just the right spot, causing you to reach your climax yet again. And since he doesn’t want to take all the fun, Eddie takes over soon after, taking turns making you orgasm until you’re going absolutely stupid, almost seeming drunk. 

And then together, they clean you up, making sure to tell you just how good you did while they got you dressed. And once you’re in one of Eddie’s t-shirt, they climb into the bed with you on either side as the three of you cuddle, the two of them stroking your hair and rubbing your back until you’ve fallen asleep in their arms, waking up in the morning fully ready for round two.

[petitemistletoe]

rewrite your elvis fic why’d you only call me when you’re high but with one of the marauders?

Title: Why'd You Only Call me When You're High?

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, drugs, old school rocker vibes

Word Count: 1.9K+

A/N: this could only be written about Sirius I'm sorry! He's so rockstar coded! happy holidays y'all :)

… The mirror's image, it tells me it's home time

But I'm not finished, 'cause you're not by my side

And as I arrived I thought I saw you leavin', carryin' your shoes

Decided that once again I was just dreamin' of bumpin' into you

… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message, you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?"

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

Sirius finished his line of coke, flipping his head up and sniffing harshly. He gave himself a long look in the mirror. He looked great, obviously: leather jacket over a bare chest, a tangle silver and gold necklaces of varying lengths cascading down his neck to his chest. Most of his tattoos were visible and his pair of leather pants were impossibly tight. His fingers were adorned with a number of rings and his hair was that perfect combination of messed up and carefully styled. His eyeliner was smudged around his eyes and he couldn’t quite tell if his eyes were so dark from the eyeliner or from the lack of sleep. 

Sirius couldn’t remember the last time he had had a solid night of sleep, but that was the nature of touring. Of course his bandmates weren’t like he was. James was boring and married with a kid, who Sirius obviously doted on, but James spent all his time when they weren’t performing or practicing with Lily and Harry. Remus was dating this guy Grant who really got under Sirius’s skin. Was it because Sirius and Remus had had a fling, an excellent mind-blowing fling, and when Remus pushed for more Sirius said no and Remus moved onto Grant? Maybe. Was it because Grant was disgustingly kind and sweet and felt like the absolute antithesis of Sirius? Maybe. Was it because Grant had gotten Remus into tea and biscuits rather than coke and pills? Maybe it was that too. And then there was Peter. Peter, bless his heart, tried his absolute best but the coke made his nose bleed, pills made him constipated, and liquor made him vomit. So most nights after a show, James would go home to Lily and Harry, Remus would go home to Grant, Peter would go home to god knows who (probably his cats or gerbils or whatever), and Sirius would go anywhere but home. 

He had liked groupies, townies, the international girls and guys, but he liked you most of all. You were a bit of a forbidden fruit, you were his brother Regulus’s best friend, but that made it all the more appealing. Sirius only went home, only spent the night in his bed, if he knew you would be there too. 

Sirius dialed your number as he made his way home in the backseat of his limo. He was rolling something that he wasn’t sure if it was a joint or a cigarette as the phone rang. He did a double take as he drove past Newt Scamander’s house. Newt Scamander was an old school rocker, a living legend basically, and even though he was a little past his prime looks-wise, he was still a sex symbol. But it wasn’t just Newt’s house that caused Sirius’s double take, it was the fact that he thought he saw walking out of Newt’s house, carrying your phone in one hand and your heels in the other. Sirius shook the thought from his brain, figuring that he was so high he probably just saw a tree branch or something. Sirius got your voicemail but he knew, despite the late hour, that you were not asleep. He dialed you again. And again. And again. Until finally he heard your voice.

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?” You sounded annoyed but he just laughed it off as he walked into his house, stepping out of his boots and kicking them off somewhere, stripping his sweaty clothes haphazardly and letting them fall off his body haphazardly. 

“That’s how you answer the phone? No hi?” Sirius teased, falling back on his bed and stretching his sore muscles. 

“Hi.” You said pointedly, “why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

“I’m not high.” Sirius said, taking a long drag of his spliff. 

“It’s three in the morning, Sirius.”

“Come over baby.” Sirius crooned. 

“You’re still talking the same shite you always did.” You were rolling your eyes, Sirius knew you were. 

“It’s harder and harder to get you to listen, baby.” Sirius said, a bite of annoyance coming through. He was on the come down from his earlier line and and was getting irritated. 

“Luckily for you I’m incapable of making alright decisions. I’ll see you in a few.” You disconnected the call. 

Sirius finished his spliff and began to roll another one. There were a few messages on his phone from James, he was probably up at one of those late night feedings for Harry. He started to read through them when he heard his door open and shut and after a few moments you were in his bedroom, crawling your way up the bed towards him. 

“That was fast.” Sirius frowned. Usually it took you at least fifteen minutes to get from your place to his, even in the dead of night when no one was out on the street. 

“You complaining?” You asked, pulling your shirt over your head as you straddled him. Sirius was going to question things more but suddenly your tits were in his face and he forgot all about that. 

… Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite

I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?

It's harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

He buried his face between your tits and groaned,

“This is my favorite place in the absolute world.”

“Well make yourself useful, Black, and stimulate my nipples.” You said, gripping his hair harshly. Sirius obliged, wrapping his lips around one of your hard nipples and his nimble fingers flew to other one, tweaking and pinching it. You were grinding down in his lap against his hard-on until his lips moved from nipples up around the curvature of your breast, then up your clavicle, then up your neck, until he got up to your lips. Before he could connect his lips to yours, you pulled back and made your way down his body and wrapped your hand around his cock. Sirius gasped as you ran your hand between your legs to lubricate it and then started jerking Sirius off. You laid flat on your stomach between Sirius’s legs and continued jerking him as you lightly sucked one of his balls into your mouth. Sirius went from the light gasps to strangled, intense moans and he felt like his lungs were about the collapse. 

“Get up,” he choked out, “I need to be inside you.”

You lifted yourself up and without much warning you seated yourself on Sirius’s cock. Sirius groaned and held your hips hard in place, preventing you from moving. 

“Sirius, come on.” You whined, your nose touching his as you tried to move again. Sirius released his grip and started fucking up into you hard. Sirius lifted his jaw, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. You pulled away harshly, pushing yourself up so you were no longer pressed against his chest. Sirius thought about saying something but then you moved your hips in the most delicious way and he forgot all about it. Sirius pulled you off of him and flipped you over, bending you over so your chest and face were pressed against the mattress and your hips were up in the air. There was a tattoo at the base of your back that had have been new. He pushed into you, his hands grasping your hips like he was about to fall off the edge of a cliff. 

He was close, so so close to finishing, but he was distracted by the tattoo on your back. It looked like a constellation, it was vaguely familiar looking, maybe it was something that he had studied in an astronomy course. One of the stars on the constellations was darker than the rest and it had a small green glow mark around it. 

“Did you snort too much or something? I’m getting rug burn here.” You said, turning and looking over your shoulder at Sirius. Sirius’s eyes snapped back up to yours and as he locked eyes with you he came. He always tried to pull out but he was caught off guard this time that he came inside you.

Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas

… Now it's three in the mornin' and I'm tryin' to change your mind

Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply

"Why'd you only call me when you're high?”

“Fuck Sirius!” You snapped, jumping off him and running to the bathroom. 

“Sorry,” Sirius murmured. It was weird…that tattoo was so so weird. It felt like something was sitting on chest he was so strangled by the idea that he had seen that exact constellation before.

“Fuck Sirius,” you repeated, walking back into his room and shaking your head, “I gotta get a morning after pill tomorrow.” You walked over to Sirius’s discarded tight leather pants and pulled out a few crumpled up bills that were in his pockets. “This is why I fucking hate having sex with you when you’re high.”

“I’m not high,” Sirius said weakly, still staring at your tattoo as you were bent over digging through his pockets.

“You only ever call me when you’re high.” You said, straightening up and starting to pull on your clothes.

“You aren’t staying?” Sirius felt like he was running out of time.

“I, uh, have to be up in the morning so I need to have an…early night.” You said, not looking Sirius in the eyes. 

“Am I starting to bore you baby?”

"Hi, why'd you only call me when you're high?"

… And I can't see you here, wonderin' where am I

It sort of feels like I'm runnin' out of time

I haven't found all I was hopin' to find

You said you gotta be up in the mornin'

Gonna have an early night

And you're startin' to bore me, baby

“I’m fine, Sirius. I just have an early morning.” You said in a snippier tone than Sirius had ever expected to hear from you.

“What’s that tattoo on your back?” Sirius stormed across the room and grabbed you by the arm harshly. 

“It’s the constellation Leo.” You snapped back, glaring up at Sirius.

“And what’s the glow on that star?” Sirius didn’t know why he was getting so upset but his blood pressure was only continuing to rise as he looked at you and thought about that tattoo.

“You really don’t know?” You smiled cruelly. “You really don’t recognize it.”

“What is it?” Sirius could feel his nose bleeding and he wiped at it. There was a streak of smeared blood on his cupid’s bow.

“It’s the star Regulus.” You grinned.

“Why’d you have to be such a bitch?” Sirius screamed.

“Why’d you have to be?” You retorted.

“Why’d you always lie?”

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high?”

Why'd you only call me when you're high?

… "Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?"

"Why'd you only ever phone me when you're high?”

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

One More Drink.

A/N: I've been thinking about an older Eddie Munson a lot lately, so much so that I wrote this as I got wine drunk the other night.

Notes: Eddie is in his 40s, reader in their mid 20s. You meet Eddie at a dive bar in town after your date stood you up out of nowhere, you spend the night in Eddie's company until you end up nearly passed out drunk.

"Fucking arsehole" You muttered under your breath as you walked into the bar, your date failed to show, and you were pissed off. The bar was a dive, its clientele was mostly middle-aged men who lived nearby and had drank there for years. You did not care though, as long as you could get drunk you were satisfied. Signalling the bartender, you ordered a whiskey and a very large glass of wine. You downed the glass of whiskey in one gulp and cradled the glass of wine, stroking the rim of the glass with your finger, contemplating why you had been stood up.

Eddie watched you as you stormed in, he came here every Friday night and had never seen you before. You were young and you were alluring, the alternative style you had reminded him of his own youth, 20 years ago you would have been his type. Eddie shook his head softly trying not to look at you, he was twice your age, you obviously would not be interested in him, he could not help himself from speaking to you though.

Eddie chuckled as he saw you down the whiskey. "it's his loss sweetheart" You lifted your head up to see who made that comment, your eyes settling on the middle-aged rocker. You smirked at him and chuckled under your breath, you were flattered by the comment, he was an attractive man.

"Oh, are you offering?" you retorted playfully admiring his rugged face, as you looked at him you could not help but imagine feeling his rough stubble against your thighs. Mentally you shook those thoughts from your mind for now, you did not want a rebound from your missing date.

"Thanks.." you chuckle softly and return to looking at your drink, you did not think that you were overly beautiful but it did sting that you were stood up by your date for no reason. You gave the bartender a nod and ordered another shot of whisky, you would welcome anything that would drown the night away at this point. Downing your second glass of whisky made you shudder; you heard a comment from the aging rocker a few seats away. "You might want to calm down sweetheart unless you want someone to carry you home".

Eddie chuckled at your response; he was loving your flirty nature. "I just don't want to see a beautiful woman such as yourself be caught alone" He swigged his beer and called the bartender for another one. You were curious about this man, he was exactly your type, covered in tattoos with long hair, plus you definitely had a weakness for older men. How could you resist him? You smirked and stood up, moving to sit at the chair next to him, you could feel his eyes on you as you sat down, it aroused you somewhat, spurring you on to speak to him.

"Nice to meet you chief, I'm Y/N" You gave your best smile to him, wanting to impress him, you decided that you at least wanted the attention of someone tonight after your date ghosted you.

"I'm Eddie, darling" he smiled and lifted his drink in a playful cheer, he was happy that you were speaking to him, he was 20 years your senior but wanted you nonetheless, he hoped that he would not come across as a pervert as he stared at you, even though he felt like one. You were just perfection to him, you reminded him of his days as a rocker, dressed in all black and angry at the world. "Y/N. A pretty name for a pretty lady" His voice was deep and charming; you could not help but roll your eyes and smile at him.

You could hear his chuckle vibrate from his throat. "Same as you sweetheart, drowning my sorrows." Eddie smiled as he downed the rest of his beer, signalling the bartender once again to pour another one. A chuckle emanated from your throat, you looked him up and down whilst he ordered his drink, you were definitely starting to feel better about being stood up tonight.

Eddie? You thought the name suited him, he was at least twice your age, but you loved it, you did not want to admit that you had daddy issues as you continued to flirt with him. You sipped your wine as you stared at him from the corner of your eye, his stubble was speckled with white hair and his face was creased with lines showing that he had lived an interesting life, you almost groaned as you noticed them. Keeping your composure as you refrained from downing the entire glass, you wanted the alcohol to keep you calm and flirty with him.

"So, what are you doing here tonight?" You gauge Eddie's response, hoping that it would not be an offensive question.

The night drew on and you hadn't noticed the time, you were both so enthralled in each other's company, exchanging flirty comments and soft strokes of your hands upon Eddie's body, each 'accidental' touch sent sparks flying through your fingers, further igniting the arousal within you. Eddie's eyes flitted to your plump lips, enjoying the way you tried not to bite your lips whenever he made a suggestive comment, he wanted nothing more than to feel his rough hands on your delicate skin and to mark you as his, silently thankful that whatever asshole you were supposed to see, had ghosted you, making you come to this bar and drink the night away. Drink you did, you did not keep track of how much you had actually drunk but you were definitely starting to feel the effects of it, the wine you kept ordering was causing a soft blush to form on your face as you could feel the buzz of alcohol.

Eddie felt your eyes rake over him, catching your wanting stare from the corner of his eye. His lips twitched as he tried not to smile at the thought of you wanting him as much as he wanted you. It had been a while since he properly flirted with a woman, especially one that was so much younger than him, he pushed any negative thoughts out of his mind, telling himself that he still had some good moves in him and that he could do this. He hooked his foot beneath the bar of your chair and pulled you closer to him, smirking at your surprise as you giggled softly and tried not to spill your drink. Your giggle was like music to his ears, the sight of you giggling definitely contrasted with your outward appearance but that only spurred him on further.

A bell rang loudly throughout the bar causing you to look at the clock, the barman was signalling that it was time to close. Holy shit was it that late? You wondered to yourself, shocked that it was almost 3 am, you had been here all night talking and flirting with Eddie. You did not want to go and leave his company, and at the same time you were scared to ask for his number or if he wanted to meet you again, maybe you were just a distraction for the night, unaware that Eddie felt the exact same way as you watched him finish the remainder of his beer.

"Well sweetheart, it's been a lovely evening" He smiled and stood up from the stool, placing his empty bottle on the bar. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously; he couldn't believe he was going to ask this. "I'd like to see you again…. If you're interested obviously" He watched you, anxious and wanting to gauge your reaction, mentally cursing himself for even asking in the first place, why would you be interested in seeing him again, he was twice your age.

The nervous way he rubbed his neck and looked down as he asked you made you blush and smile widely, you absolutely wanted to see him again, you began to hop off your chair and reply "I'd love to see you ag - " You stumble as you stand up, catching you off guard, you had definitely had more alcohol than you thought. You place your hand on the bar to stead your uneasy legs, gripping it for dear like to keep you upright. Eddie's arms went out instinctively to try and catch you before you steadied yourself, chuckling slightly at your wobbly demeanour.

"When I said someone might have to carry you home I didn't mean it literally" His deep playful chuckle caused you to blush, desperately trying not to imagine your body in his arms, holding you close against his chest.

"No, I'm fine…" your speech was slightly slurred as you tried to focus on staying stood up, feeling your body sway back and forth, blinking rapidly to keep yourself awake and alert. You had no idea how you would get home; you weren't even sure that you would be able to open the door to your apartment at this point.

Eddie's smile was soft as he watched you sway gently against the bar; he took your free hand in his and pulled you softly towards him. "C'mon sweetheart, I don't live far from here and I don't reckon you are in any fit state to be left alone" You nod softly at his comment, you knew he was right, there was no way you could navigate yourself anywhere in this state. You stumbled towards him and felt his calloused hand hook your arm around his neck, you almost wanted to moan when he snaked his other arm around your waist, gripping you softly making sure that you would not fall.

The walk to his trailer was quiet, you were attempting to concentrate on moving your feet in a straight line and trying not to fall over, not understanding that the only reason you were even standing up at all was because Eddie was holding you upright. Eddie shook his head softly at you trying to walk, he remembered when he was your age and had gotten himself into many a drunken state, you made him feel young again tonight which made him smile, he could not remember the last time he had felt this alive.

He lifted you up in his strong arms, carrying you bridal style to his bedroom, you were now fully asleep after finally giving in to the alcohol in your body. Your breathing was soft as Eddie gently placed you upon his unmade bed, he smiled watching you seem so at peace, it was a nice contrast to the anger he saw on your face when you entered the bar all those hours ago. He removed your shoes and placed them on the floor, he had fallen asleep in his boots many times when he was drunk and each time he would wake with sores on his feet, you would likely be embarrassed anyway come the morning, so he did not want to add to your discomfort. As he left you there sleeping he made sure to leave a glass of water on the bedside table, he knew full well that you would want it in the morning. Taking one last look at your sleeping figure to make sure you were alright he made his way to the sofa down the hall. He let his body fall onto it with a sigh, sure he wanted you to come back to his trailer with him, this was just a bit different from what he had in mind. He closed his eyes and let sleep take him, his last thoughts were him hoping that you would want to see him again after you had sobered up, he knew that he would not be able to get you off of his mind for a long time.

It wasn't long until you reached the door to his trailer, you would have both gotten there sooner but trying to keep you from tumbling over was slightly time-consuming. As you both walked through the door Eddie removed your arm from around his neck, his hand was still gripping your waist as he did not want you to fall into his trailer. You dropped your bag on a nearby table as soon as you were helped inside, wanting desperately to be unencumbered by it. The trailer wasn't pristine, but it wasn't filthy, it definitely showed signs of a man living by himself in it for years, the soft smell of whisky and cigarette smoke was strangely comforting to you in your drunken state, it made your eyelids feel even heavier as you tried to stay awake, slumping against Eddie's body. The feeling of your body against his caused his heart to flutter slightly, he could feel you leaning against him, knowing that you were fighting a losing battle to stay awake at this point.

[pastel-peach-writes]

CAITVI X YOU IN A BAND PLEASE OH MY LORD !!?? BONUS IF UR SINGING EITHER A LOVE SONG OR A SPICY ONE N THEY R JUST LOOKING AT EACHOTHER N THEN U ?!!!

Comin' up!

Hot Rocker | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: Caitlyn and Vi have a partner in a band and holy crap, they can't get enough of them.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Suggestive Themes, Lowkey The Dirtiest Thing I've Written As A PG-13 Writer, Musician/Singer Reader(separately and together), Mentions Of Overly Touchy Groupies

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

– First off, Caitlyn and Vi absolutely love that you're in a band.

– They can't keep their eyes off of you every time you perform.

– They love how the lights compliment your complexion, and how your hair/body moves as you play and/or sing. Not to mention the cool ass outfits

– Vi loves you with multiple rings, ripped pants, and wild hair. Maybe even an open button-down. Basically, she loves the rocker masc look on you. She says its badass

– Caitlyn loves that look too, obviously. But she mainly loves the look on your face rather than the outfits.

– Yes, she's into fashion and loves what you wear, but when your face softens as you play a romantic ballad or how your face scrunched as you concentrate on your instrument

– speaking of instruments, if you play any handheld string instrument or the piano, Vi will never stop asking you what those hands do.

– it made your face heat up the first few times, but the later times, vi received eye-rolls, smiles, and sometimes a wink.

– even if you play the fucking drums, Vi would always ask because you often twirl the sticks between your fingers.

– If you're not much of a player, but more of a singer, Vi would ask why aren't you that vocal when she goes down on you.

– WELP.

– vocal or not during spicy times, she would always comment on it and Caitlyn will always flick her ear.

– okay, before we get into you singing a spicy song on them or furthermore on how they act while you perform, let's talk about them and your groupies.

– It's not like they don't love them! They do and they're your fans.

– If you like them, they love them

– but some of the groupies don't understand boundaries and/or talk about you in a certain way they don't like.

– it's not gross. it's the normal, "omg they're so hot!" "did you see how they acted during the finale? ohhh my god, I'm on my knees" "they could run me over with a bus and not only will i apologize for getting in the way, I'd say thank you.

– Okay, that last line makes Vi chuckle as she overhears it. Caitlyn is more concerned, but you say similar lines to her and Vi, so it's not like it was foreign behavior to her.

– anyways!

– they don't like when your groupies get handsy or visibly make you uncomfortable when you're all backstage.

– some of your fans/groupies are so wrapped up in your stardom, they forget you're human.

– God, don't let your bodyguards fail at their job.

– Vi is the first one screaming that the show's over, the guards aren't doing their fucking job, and some of your fans need to learn some respect.

– Caitltyn immediately apologizes for Vi's profanity, but not for her actions of shutting things down. She glares at the guards and some of the problematic fans while ushering everyone out

– she also looks at the kind fans apologetically and hopes they get home safe.

– OKAY FINALLY. SHOWTIME (literally)

– you don't sing or play your spicy songs until near the end of the concert.

– the mood is calmer, the fans are fully engrossed in the music. and the lighting is a perfect purple/red.

– usually, the spicy songs are covers, but the moment you show up performing a BRAND NEW UNRELEASED song about the two of them? ohhh god

– first off, cait and vi are blushing. it's intense and they're so flustered but since they're in the front row and surrounded by people, they have to keep it cool.

– the moment you mention the contrast of calloused and soft hands, they glance at each other like "is this fucking play about us?!"

– yeah, babes. it is.

– if you're a singer, you look at them as you sing. you don't stare at them all the time. (you can't let the fans know this song is explicitly ab them even though they have a good hunch)

– you're holding onto the mic stand, swaying your hips to the music with your eyes closed. but then when you talk about their kisses and maybe even how they act during the act, you look at them with a little smirk

– vi smirks back, but its very faint. she's thinking, "oh this little fucker. you're not going to get away with this"

– meanwhile, Caitlyn is freaking.

– she's not really open w her "adult" life like that and even though the details are vague and you're not saying her name, she can't help but get embarrassed

– now people know her dirtiest and deepest fantasies! (aka pretty lingerie and whispers smh. you'll be okay cait)

– if you're not much of a singer, but a music player, you watch them the entire time you play.

– you added some lyrics to the song, so when the line you wrote about them comes up, you make eye contact. A sneaky smile spreads across your face and your tongue pokes at your cheek

– if the song is more upbeat, think Chase Atlantic, you headbang to some of the music.

– if the song is slower, lana del ray type shit, you sway your music and chew on your lip

– whatever you do, Caitlyn and Vi love it

– they're weak at the knees, resisting the urge to jump on stage and kiss you until your lips turn purple

– god, they think you're such a tease but they love it.

– after the show Vi walks up to you like, "well, that was some song"

– and you're "innocently" like "oh, what song? can you remind me?"

– even Caitlyn's a little smug with a tensed jaw and her tongue running along her upper teeth. she crosses her arms, Vi mimics the stance, and she tilts her head to the side. in a low, sultry whisper she goes "you know what song."

– WHEWWWWW

– butterflies, shivers, ETC. EVERYTHING YOU COULD FEEL YOU'RE FEELING

– later that night at the hotel is interesting, but I'll leave that to your imagination.

WC: 1,000

[altocat]

SO. While I'm still in full off my rocker galaxy brain mode, @heraldofcrow and I have been speculating on this for quite a while now.

Does the logo for First Soldier look like something to you? Obviously throughout this franchise, the logos are always very, VERY spoilery for the main plot of the game.

Looks like the traditional FF7 comet, right? Except there's something weird about it. It's very ridged, almost like some sort of shattered illusion. Almost like...

Kinda like bullet damage on glass. A bullet huh. Now that's odd. Why would that be the main logo for First Soldier? Who do we know that uses a gun? Lucia, obv. But Lucia's pretty much a side character. Who else...

OH.

(obv this is pure conspiratorial nonsense. And yes I know the logo was created as far back as when FS was a battle royale. And yeah, it's prob still just a distorted comet but WOULDN'T IT BE NEAT 👀👀)

[paperyowl]

Rockon for the prompt "distraction"

a03

+++

"Alright. I know I should care about the reason why you're naked in my bed," Rocker said, dropping his bag by the bedroom door as he saw Deacon reclining on his bed without a single stitch of clothing on his body. "But I will just enjoy it for a moment."

It was quite the vision to have Deacon spread out on his sheets, wearing his nakedness with a compelling confidence. With a physique like that, all muscle and lean mass, defined abs, muscular thighs and a rather large- well. Rocker wanted him.

Deacon grinned at the way Rocker basically raked his eyes down his body. That alone made heat curl pleasantly in Rocker's gut. But. Something was just off enough for him to remain by the door.

The closer he looked, the more Rocker realized there was something forced about the whole situation. Deacon's act seemed like a smoke screen, something stolen out of Rocker's old playbooks - and with every moment, it seemed to become clearer.

Rocker tried to remember which day it was - the shuffling of recent shifts and some decent overtime had scrambled his brain a bit. But not enough to forget that Deacon had wanted to talk to Annie on Thursday... And today was - Oh.

From one movement to the next, Rocker's mood shifted completely.

"Can I ask?"

"You can, but I don't want to talk about it," Deacon said, dropping some of the act, but he brought it all back a beat later when he added: "I'd much rather fuck."

The discrepancy between the Deacon he knew and this version of him was startling. That didn't mean he wasn't still incredibly sexy, but at the same time, Deacon was so obviously in pain that Rocker couldn't ignore it.

He knew the reason, too. Even if the talk had gone well - Deacon hadn't worn his wedding ring in weeks. Taking it off had seemed easy enough. But Deacon couldn't take off any of those worry lines - or the guilt that was so clear on his face.

Rocker sighed. There was no way he was doing this.

"I really want to. But I don't think you do - and that's kind of a dealbreaker for me."

"I do-"

"I'm not a fucking rebound, Deacon."

Rocker turned on his heel and left the room. He made his way to the kitchen and very decidedly went about making coffee - he would have rather just gone to bed after night shift, but that was hardly an option now.

Besides, Rocker had the very distinct feeling that they really should have a conversation about this. He sipped his coffee while scrolling through his phone - no time like the present to work through a few dozen memes that the squad had sent into their group chat. All between one shift and the next.

"I'm sorry," Deacon stated when he walked into the kitchen twenty minutes later. He was fully dressed - and he looked rueful.

"That's a good start," Rocker said, looking up from his phone.

"I don't know what came over me."

Rocker knew he was going way to easy on him. But it was hard to stay angry, when Deacon seemed so earnest about his apology. He put the phone away.

"Mhm. Coffee?"

Deacon nodded and sat across from Rocker when he placed a second mug there, pouring the drink for him. When Rocker put the pot down and sat again, he tried not to sigh too obviously.

"Want to talk about it yet?"

Deacon exhaled. "I'm not sure where to start."

Rocker waited him out. He left the space for Deacon to fill it how he wanted - and there was a very real chance that he would walk out. Rocker hoped he wouldn't, but that wasn't his decision right now. Even with the divorce. Especially because of the divorce.

He could tell Deacon had expected Rocker to drop it. But Rocker was done skirting around the elephant in the room for Deacon's convenience. (Rocker wasn't willing to break his own heart for this.)

Finally, Deacon looked at him, and he started talking.

[hochsleep]

Chapter 2: First day in the quarry

• Era: Season 1

• Warning: foul language, disturbing thoughts.

• Summary: Daryl brings you to a camp in the quarry and now you have to get to know its inhabitants. Will you and your sister be allowed to stay? Have you finally found a safe place to stay?

• Word count: 6,9k.

• A/N: I will say right off the bat that there is almost no interaction between Daryl and Y/N in the chapter. But aside from the romantic relationship with Mr. Dixon, I also want to spell out the interactions between the reader and the other characters in the series. It's important, after all they're all in the same group and I don't consider all the other characters just set pieces. I love many of them immensely and I want to express my love here. But after these digressions, we'll usually be treated to chapters with a lot of Daryl. For balance.

The first chapter seems quite weak to me and if you made it here after that, you're good! I'm having trouble spelling out the beginning. I haven't really fumbled with the characters yet, especially my own, but the second chapter was easier for me to write and it feels really better. Glad you guys are here!

Yeah, that's pretty much all I wanted to say here for now.

Enjoy reading!

Your first day of your career was stressful to say the least.

You knew this place. One day your best friend got involved with a bunch of local amateur rockers who liked to hide from cops and law problems far away from your hometown. One day these assholes decided to perform at a bar in Atlanta, calling it their first big tour. Needless to say, they ended up not even being allowed in that bar? Their playing was pretty mediocre, they were more attracted to the image of rock stars and their lifestyle than the music. Their lead singer looked like Axl Rose and was a real asshole. Billy Stevenson. Famous for his husky voice, his problems with the local Dunwoody police, and his love of underage girls when he was in his early 20s. You couldn’t help it, your friend Holly was madly in love with this asshole and all your attempts to talk some sense into her were unsuccessful.

So when you and Holly were 16, you first tricked your mom and went on her boyfriend Billy Stevenson’s “tour” with her. You just didn’t want to let her go alone. Holly was naïve enough to get into trouble, and Billy had little interest in the safety of his underage girlfriend. So you volunteered to be her voice of reason on this trip. It wasn’t so bad. Except for a few days on the road in an old pot-smoking van with six sleazy guys who were failed rock stars. At least you finally got out of your little town and could see Atlanta. The big city you were hoping to go to after high school. And your best friend was with you and seemed really happy so you just ignored all the other aspects of the not-so-safe trip.

That group decided to stop at this very quarry for the night before finally reaching Atlanta. That’s how you first got here. It was only seven years ago, and it felt like an eternity. You never thought you’d be in this place again. You didn’t think Lottie would be with you. And you obviously couldn’t, even in your wildest fantasies, imagine under what circumstances you’d end up back in that old quarry. The end of the world. It’s still hard to believe.

But back to the camp that Daryl brought you to. It was hard to get a few words out of him on the way to the quarry, but at least after several attempts he introduced himself. He was probably just tired of your questioning or your annoying voice. He liked Lottie better because she kept quiet while you talked and talked all the way. Anyway, Daryl led you out of the forest and the first thing you came to was a small clearing where the trees had been cut down years ago.

The first thing that catches your eye is a few camping tents with folding chairs and ropes for drying laundry. A woman with two children was sitting near one of these tents, and she was the first to look at you. The woman frowned slightly and whispered to her young son in Spanish to go back into the tent. You wondered how bad you and Lottie looked now if the woman had that reaction. Three days in the woods must have taken its toll. You’d had to sleep on the ground as it was, with nothing to put underneath you. But you always gave your knitted cardigan to Lottie to wrap up in so she wouldn’t freeze at night lying on the cold ground. Even if you were shaking from the cold yourself because Georgia nights feel like they’re polar. Oh, and you fell at least four times while you and Lottie were walking through the woods. From fatigue, dizziness from lack of food, a couple times you tripped. Resulting in bloody knees, elbows and palms. So yes, probably a strange girl covered in mud, blood and her own sweat did not arouse confidence in the camp.

You swept your eyes further and saw an old mobile home, on the roof of which stood an elderly man in a Hawaiian shirt and with a shotgun in his hands. He seemed to be trying to see what was going on down here. Two girls came out of the house. Two blondes, similar in appearance but different in age. They’re probably sisters, or so you’d think.

“Dixon, what’s going on here?” came a man’s voice.

A tall man of strong build wearing a shirt unbuttoned across his chest, showing off dark short hair and a large silver pendant. He looked to be no more than thirty-five. The man had his hands at his sides and was squinting at Daryl. Oh, now you know his last name. Not that you needed the information, but it was still interesting to know.

“Found them in the woods,” Daryl said hoarsely, waving his hand in your and Lottie’s direction while you stood behind his back, “gotta help the kid.”

“Let’s step back and talk, buddy,” the man snorted, as if saying the last word with disdain.

You could see Daryl’s shoulders tense. He nodded to the man and they both walked back toward the forest to discuss the situation. You couldn’t blame him. Today, with the old world dead, and with it the law and perhaps ethical rules controlling human behavior, you shouldn’t have trusted strangers. Especially ones from the woods.

“Are we not allowed to be here?” asked Lottie quietly, wrapping her arm tightly around yours, "are we going to get kicked out?”

For a ten-year-old, she was pretty savvy. Though it didn’t take much intelligence to notice the wary behavior of the people in this camp. You stood there in the middle of the clearing while several pairs of eyes stared at you and your sister tried to hide behind you. You wished you could hide too. It seemed easier with Daryl standing in front of you and covering you.

You saw a boy, looking about the same age as Lottie, walk confidently in your direction. Behind him, a tall, thin woman with long brown hair and a piercing gaze walked at a quicker pace. His mom?

“Carl, stop!” huffed the woman, catching up with the child, but he cared little for her words.

“Hi, I’m Carl Grimes,” the boy with the bright blue eyes smiled sincerely and pulled Lottie’s hand, “what’s your name?”

Lottie looked at his hand and then at you. You smiled slightly and nodded at her, encouraging her. It had been so long since Lottie had seen the other children, it seemed like years rather than a couple of weeks.

“Charlotte L/N,” the girl replied, looking apprehensively at Carl.

“Pleased to meet you,” Carl ventured and put his own arm around her arm to seal the acquaintance.

Lottie opened her eyes fearfully, but relaxed just as quickly, realizing that a boy her age wouldn’t hurt her.

“Carl,” the woman walked over to you and the boy and shook her head annoyedly, looking at him, “you definitely heard what I told you.”

“It’s okay,” you found the courage to answer the woman, “we’re not dangerous. I mean…”

“What’s your name?” the woman shifted her gaze to you. So cold it sent shivers down your spine.

“Y/N,” you replied, looking at her uncertainly.

“Y/N, I think we should all stay away from each other for now until we figure this out,” the woman said, grabbing Carl’s arm and pulling him aside. “For safety’s sake…ours and yours.”

“Lori, you shouldn’t chop off your shoulder,” the older man finally came down from the roof and approached you with a broad smile. “The two young ladies are obviously scared and tired, hardly a danger to anyone.”

“We’ve had enough of the Dixons who came here from the woods too and now we don’t all feel safe,” Lori answered him in a low voice so Carl and the others wouldn’t hear too much extra.

“Lori,” the old man shook his head faintly, looking at the woman, “this conversation is inappropriate right now, don’t you think? Obviously the girls need help, that’s what really matters.”

“Let’s see what Shane has to say to that,” Lori said and with another glance in your direction, dragged Carl by the arm to the side.

The man sighed his head as he watched Lori walk away behind Carl’s arm and quietly clucked his tongue. But then the good-natured smile bloomed back on his face as he looked at you.

“You must be hungry, ladies. Come on, I’ll feed you and we’ll get to know each other without any barbed looks in your direction,” the old man clapped his hands, “and don’t mind Lori, she’s always in a bad mood lately, it’s nothing to do with you.”

At the mention of food, saliva automatically accumulated in your mouth. You could literally feel your stomach digesting itself all these three days. The last thing you ate was a handful of wild raspberries found in the woods. The only safe thing you knew. It was a shame there weren’t many berries, but you weren’t in a position to complain. You’ve never been a believer, but you seem to finally understand why people pray before eating and thank God for sending food. But it was more hunger playing on your emotions, nothing serious.

The elderly man introduced himself as Dale. He nobly hid you and Lottie in his motor home, where no one would look at you both with supposed apprehension. You were truly grateful for that. And you were even more grateful when Dale put a plate full of pasta and meat chowder warmed over a fire in front of you. You didn’t like meat other than chicken, but right now you’d eat anything that had animal protein in it. Lots of wild protein. And damn it, it was the best chowder you’ve ever had in your life. Or at least in the last month. It was warm, rich, salty and peppery, even though you’d forgotten spices existed, and it was really hearty. Even Lottie, who was a very picky eater and would certainly not have eaten such an array of food at any other time, was happily gorging herself on the food Dale had provided. The man watched you with a caring smile as he poured the wild herbs into cups. An impromptu tea you wouldn’t mind having now.

“So, girls, how did you get into these woods?” asked Dale, placing a plastic cup of decoction in front of you. The pleasant, soothing scent of herbs enveloped you, and it was easier to breathe.

“We’re from Dunwoody,” you said, smiling slightly at the old man, “just like everyone else traveling towards Atlanta when we heard there was a safe camp for the uninfected. When we got to the town, it turned out there was no camp," you explained without going into detail.

You didn’t tell him how your mother was eaten in front of you and Lottie. How your stepfather John piled into the house that same day and ordered you to immediately pack all the essentials. How you took a long drive from Dunwoody in his old Ford, and when it stalled, you stole someone’s pickup truck. How you spent several days in the woods, eating the canned food you had collected at home and what you found in abandoned cars on the road. You didn’t tell him how you had to run away from walkers several times and how John cracked one of them open in front of his ten-year-old daughter, after which she was afraid to go near him. How you finally made it to Atlanta, but instead of a camp you found only abandoned military equipment, fire-damaged buildings, and crowds of corpses. How you couldn’t get away from them and John drew them off so you and Lottie could escape. You didn’t tell how the man who raised you from the age of ten and replaced your own father was torn apart by reanimated corpses, spewing out his insides as he screamed exhaustedly before life left him. How loudly Lottie screamed “Daddy!” and sobbed, and you had to literally carry her on your back to escape the walkers. How you ran off into the woods again, where you finally broke away from the mob of rotten ones. You didn’t tell how Lottie had been silent for the last two days, not realizing that she had lost both her parents so quickly. How the two of you wandered through the forest and survived only on wild berries and rare streams of water. You could only hope the water wasn’t poisoned with walker DNA. You didn’t tell him how you were found by four of those horrible creatures and chased after you. How Lottie was grabbed and almost bit. And how you gave up and for a moment thought it was best for both of you, you didn’t tell him either. The memories were still fresh and the realization of your weakness had not yet reached you. And there was a lot you hadn’t told Dale.

But he probably knew from the sad look in your eyes that you didn’t need to ask. Not now. And in front of Lottie, who was trying hard not to think about what had happened.

“Are you going to kick us out?” finally dispelled the silence, Lottie looking at Dale with her innocent childish gaze in which hope flickered.

“Kick you out? What makes you think that, little lady?” the old man raised his eyebrows, looking at the girl.

He and probably Carl were the only ones who already saw you as part of the group. Maybe also Daryl, since he brought you here, but you weren’t sure.

“That woman, the boy’s mom…Carl’s mom, she doesn’t want us here…and neither does that big tall man,” Lottie pressed her lips together. A habit you both shared when nervous or doubtful.

“Well you may have scared them, we’re all scared right now, but that doesn’t mean they want to kick you out,” Dale shook his head, “we all came to this camp hoping to find a safe place and we found one. Everyone arrived gradually and we were all new here, but no one kicked anyone out. Daryl, the one who brought you here, and his brother Merle, who I suggest you stay away from, were the last newcomers to this group, they too came from the forest a couple weeks ago and people just…got used to new people in the camp. Time goes very fast now, two weeks feels like two months ago,” the old man sighed, “and yet. No one’s kicked anyone out of this camp yet. If you want a safe place and a nice, well almost, company of other living people, you’ve found it and are now part of the group until you decide to leave. That’s the way it Is.”

Lottie smiled at Dale’s words. She didn’t want to leave. New people scared her, but she couldn’t help but be glad to be alive. Especially after seeing nothing but dead people for the last couple weeks. And she liked that there were more kids at camp. Carl and those kids whose mom had hastily hidden them in the tent. Maybe they could be friends. And maybe you wouldn’t have to give your food and clothes to Lottie anymore. She’d like that. She also liked Dale. He was kind and caring. He reminded Lottie of your grandfather from Oregon, the one you both went to see the summer before school. This place really could be a new home and Lottie really hoped it would be.

“Thanks for the food, Dale, it’s really good,” you said smiling and occasionally glancing at your sister’s satisfied face.

“Yes, thank you!” nodded the girl confidently, remembering to thank the old man.

“It’s all Carol,” the man brushed it off, but then apparently remembered that you have no idea who Carol is, “I’ll be sure to introduce you to her and the others. But you’d better get cleaned up first.”

Oh, right.

You still looked no better than a walker. Still covered in blood, sweat, and mud. You used to feel awful after a long day of work on particularly hot days in Georgia, when you sweated all over and literally felt like the dirtiest person on the planet. All you wanted to do was go home and give yourself a good scrubbing with a washcloth. But a light layer of sweat was a drop in the bucket compared to how truly dirty you were now. Not to mention the fact that you’d forgotten about shampoo for two weeks at least, and now if you ran your greasy hair over a frying pan, you could fry an egg without oil and it wouldn’t even burn. It was only now that you didn’t have to run and survive in the woods, where walkers could find you at any moment, that you thought about how you looked. You felt like wiping yourself with an iron sponge like the one your mom used to scrub the burned-on food off the dishes. Or scrub yourself with sandpaper. And burn those clothes you’ve been wearing for so long. There’s no saving it, you’re sure of that. But the problem is, you and Lottie left your backpacks in Atlanta. You had literally nothing with you. Wearing those filthy, tattered rags after you’ve washed up…It's rather not wash up at all.

“I don’t have a change of clothes and…” you looked awkwardly at Dale, “all our stuff was left in Atlanta when we ran away from there.”

“Oh, right,” nodded the old man, “you came light,” he reflected.

There are enough people in the camp. And they should have enough clothes, too. But you weren’t even sure if you and Lottie were staying here. You didn’t know for sure until now. Asking for clean clothes from these people would have been supercilious and you didn’t want to deal with it.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” Dale said with a smile before leaving you and Lottie in his motorhome.

You didn’t even have time to object. He wouldn’t have let you.

“He’s cute,” Lottie grinned at you after a few seconds of silence, and you only grinned back at her.

Dale didn’t keep you waiting long as promised. He came back to the house accompanied by a young girl. One of those blondes you saw earlier. The younger one. The girl seemed your age. Maybe a couple years apart. She smiled charmingly and looked like a doll with her soft blond hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. The girl held a stack of clothes in her hands.

Oh shit.

You wouldn’t want that. I mean, sure you wanted to wash up and put on clean clothes, but you didn’t want to feel indebted and steal from these people. You already felt like you owed Daryl for saving your life and Dale for the food and the warm welcome.

“Hi, we haven’t had a chance to meet yet,” the girl said in a voice as sweet as sugar syrup, “I’m Amy.”

“Y/N,” you nodded, lifting the corners of your lips slightly, “this is my sister Charlotte,” you nodded at the little girl next to you.

“That’s my full name, but I don’t like it when the full form is used, I’d rather just Lottie,” the girl explained.

“Nice to meet you,” Amy smiled even wider and for a moment you thought her rosy cheeks were going to burst, “I brought you both some clothes.”

Amy held out a stack of clothes to you and you took them into your hands. There were bigger clothes on the bottom, probably for you, and some smaller ones for Lottie on top.

“Thank you so much, I don’t know how I can repay you to be honest…” you pressed your lips together awkwardly, looking at Amy.

“Don’t need anything, it’s all right,” waved the girl away, “we’re here to help each other. It’s my stuff, I don’t know if it’ll fit, but if it doesn't we’ll look for something else. Maybe my sister has some or…well we have a lot of women in the camp,” she explained hastily, “and for Lottie, Sophia’s stuff. It’s Carol’s daughter and…”

“All right, honey, thanks,” Dale interrupted her, noticing that with excitement Amy was starting to gibber and explain too much.

“Yeah…anyway, if something doesn’t fit at all, we’ll look for more,” Amy nodded, exhaling.

“That’s fine, and thanks again,” you nodded at her.

“Thank you,” repeated Lottie after you.

“No problem, I’ll see you later,” Amy smiled once more and walked out the door.

“Okay, I have a shower room there a little farther closer to the bedroom. It’s not much of a dream, but it’s washable. The water is also scarce and it’s mostly cold, so I suggest you do all your business quickly because it’ll take a long time to rub down not lake water,” Dale began, walking past you further to show you everything, “Soap and shampoo are on the shelf next to the shower. And I’ll give you a towel. When you’re done, go outside. We’ll get to know the others.”

Dale gave you both a towel each and left you and Lottie alone in his motorhome, assuring you that no one would come in here and you could relax.

You sent Lott to wash first and hoped you’d have some water left over. But now you’d dive into the lake to wash yourself, frankly.

Lottie came out a few minutes later. Her long hair was wet and slightly disheveled from the water, but she looked fresh and clean for the first time in a long time. Lottie was dressed in knee-length blue leggings with a star pattern and a white T-shirt with a cartoon bear on it. Clothes were a little big for her because the Sophia you didn’t know yet was probably older than your sister. Or at least taller. But Lottie didn’t complain. Especially when she saw that she’d been allocated ballet flats with a strap around her ankle. Not very practical footwear now, but better than one miserable rubber boot. You hoped you wouldn’t have to run around anymore and Lottie’s shoes wouldn’t be something to worry about in that case. Especially as she seemed to like it very much herself. She loved shoes and ballet flats before all this. Fuck you could see sneakers on her feet, it was a rarity.

You walked into the tiny shower room, which somehow also contained a toilet and sink. The shower was disastrously small and you were left to guess how to turn around so as not to bruise yourself on the toilet and sink. You pulled off all your dirty clothes and shoved them with your foot closer to the door so they wouldn’t get in the way. Your gaze fell on your reflection in the small mirror above the sink. The crumpled, tired, and lost girl who had once smiled so brightly looked back at you. It was the worst version of you. And not even because of the blood and dirt on your face. Not because of the purple bruise on your collarbone and a few scratches on your neck. Not because of the greasy hair that clumped on your shoulders. It was because of that faded look in your eyes. The one you’d never seen in your life, not even in your worst moments. The funny thing was that now all those situations and your worries about them were nothing compared to your current problems.

You didn’t want to see it anymore. You stood under the shower head and turned on the water. Cold jets ran through your hair, dripping onto your skin and causing a tabor of goosebumps to follow. But damn it now, that cold water felt like the embrace of a god you didn’t believe in, but now you were ready to believe in. You could only dream of a hot shower now, but the temperature of the water no longer mattered as long as the dirt and blood was washed away with the streams of water and left under your feet. You turned off the water to lather your hair with a man’s shampoo for lack of more. It smelled divine anyway. Everything smelled divine now after the smell of sweat, blood, and rotting corpses in your nose. The only thing your nose has been picking up lately. So the smell of pine branches and mint almost made you have an orgasm. Especially when you felt the foam between your fingers, lathering up your dirty hair. The next step was the mendal smelling soap you used to lather your body with. The sharp pain recognized your scratches on your sides and legs, but that was a good thing as they were getting clean. You had nothing to treat them with back then in the forest and could only hope you didn’t get an Infection or die of blood poisoning. That would be ridiculous and a shame in today’s world. As your slippery soapy fingers slid over your body you felt as if angels had come down from heaven to bathe you. It was very good. Very good. And it felt even better to wash the soap off yourself along with the rest of the dirt and blood. There was barely enough water, you used the rest and hoped no one else would shower today. At least you justified to yourself that you really needed it more.

You wiped yourself with a clean towel and exhaled with relief. Now you could get dressed. You made a mental note to thank Amy again, because she had been kind enough to share even fresh underwear with you. Today couldn’t have gotten any better after that. Even if the cute polka-dot cotton briefs were a little small for you. You didn’t even want to think about the condition of your own after a week of wearing them. It’s horrible, you should just burn them. Amy also brought you a bra, which was also incredibly cute, but you hadn’t used that part of your clothes since you were a teenager after your cousin Martha scared you with the story about bra pips causing cancer and terrible breast pain. You remembered that to this day. But even without those stories, you were uncomfortable in bras, and they pressed and chafed your skin every now and then. You gave them up a long time ago. There were the occasional snide comments from male customers at the store where you worked and the stares of middle-aged women, but your comfort was more important to you. So you put your bra aside and began to dress next. Next were light-colored jeans that were supposed to be loose, but looked like skinnies on you because you were fuller and taller than Amy. But the main thing was that they weren’t close to bursting at the seams if you sat down in them and that was enough. You even liked the way they fit around your soft, rounded hips. The last one was a soft pink short-sleeve button-down shirt. It fit you well without being too tight, unlike the jeans. Anyway, you threw on a thin gray sweater with cute buttons and bows embroidered on them. It was a far cry from your lazy, near boho style, but you didn’t complain. Amy had also brought you some sneakers, but you preferred your shabby yellow converse shoes, which were still alive. And you hoped to save your colorful knitted cardigan that your mother had carefully knitted for you for Christmas two years ago. It’s the only thing you have left of hers. The cardigan and Lottie.

You came out of the shower room and sat across from Lottie at the table. She looked at you anxiously. You knew what was wrong. She was scared. And so were you.

“We can escape through the roof hatch,” you whispered to your sister as if someone could hear you.

“No, we won’t do that,” Lottie shook her head and stood up from the table to say confidently, “let’s go.”

You and Charlotte walked out of Dale’s motorhome just as a young Asian-looking guy you didn't know was about to knock on the door.

“Oh, I…” he looked at you fearfully, “I thought Dale was in there.”

"He’s not there,” you shook your head.

“Yeah, I already figured that out,” the guy scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I’m Glenn by the way,” and then extended his hand to you.

“Y/N,” you replied, squeezing his hand lightly.

“And you…?” Glenn looked at the girl next to you.

“Lottie,” she smiled. Glenn was about to reply when Dale appeared behind him.

"Oh, you girls are done now,” the old man clapped his hands, “have you met Glenn yet? He’s a good guy,” Dale clapped the younger guy on the shoulder in a friendly way.

"Come on,” Glenn lowered his head in embarrassment and you noted to yourself that he seemed really quite shy.

"Well, we need to find Shane and introduce you to the others, follow me,” Dale waved his hand, urging the three of you to follow him.

There’s nothing more for you to do. You took Lottie’s hand and followed the man. Glenn walked beside you, awkwardly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. The whole situation was embarrassing for you, too. Eventually you talked Daryl into bringing you to camp. You had hoped to just ask for food and lodging for one night, not expecting anything more. But now it’s people have lent you clothes and seem to actually let you stay here and live with them. This is something you could never have dreamed of. Unprecedented generosity.

“Shane we have an unspoken leader,” Glenn said as you walked, “well I mean we’re kind of his group, but there are other people in the camp who just knew about this place and stopped here on their own. Shane decided to organize all of us and he seems to know better than the rest of us how to handle difficult situations, so we just figured he could…I don’t know, be in charge? I mean, he’s really being listened to.”

“So he decides who can stay here?” you asked.

"We all decide together, Shane just makes the final determinations in matters like this, but since the camp is large and not everyone is, shall we say, part of our group, you could take a spot a little farther away and live on your own,” Glenn shrugged, “but that’s not necessary, no one minds if you’re actually with us.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you almost whispered, remembering the look in Lori’s eyes.

Dale led you to a campfire where people were beginning to gather. The sky was darkens rapidly and the air, warmed by the day, was cooling surprisingly quickly. Everyone wanted to take a seat close to the warm, cozy fire. You felt a thrill of excitement at how many eyes were directed at you at that moment. Lori and Carl, who you already knew. But now there was no coldness and distrust in the woman’s gaze that she had greeted you with earlier. And Carl was smiling, waving his hand to Lottie as if they were already friends. Next you saw Amy next to an other woman, her sister. The younger sister smiled at you, and the older one nodded her head in greeting. Next to them sat a middle-aged woman, unfamiliar to you until now, with short gray hair. She had her arm around the shoulders of a blonde girl who looked a little older than your sister. You suggested that perhaps she was the same Sophia who had lent her things to Lottie. Sitting next to them was a full man who looked at you in disgust. Actually, it wasn't just you, he looked like that at everyone if you watched him. He was definitely not someone you wanted to meet. The next person you saw was a chubby dark-haired guy who was holding a guitar and seemed to be playing something, but stopped when he saw you and Lottie. Next to him sat an older dark-skinned woman who smiled politely at you. And finally Shane. The same man who dragged Daryl into the woods to ‘chat’ when he brought you here. You recognized him from the confident pose he stood in, towering over these people.

Speaking of Daryl. You didn’t see him among these people. But when you looked to the side, you saw a familiar figure with a crossbow over his shoulder. Daryl was walking away, obviously not even thinking about joining the group around the fire. You watched as he separated and didn’t look in your direction, though you were obviously staring. But you were standing far enough away that he really didn’t notice your stare.

“Y/N, right?” you hear a male voice say and turn around to Shane.

“Yes,” you nodded, pursing your lips. “And little…?” Shane shifted his gaze to your sister and smiled at her.

“Charlotte,” the girl replied, squeezing your hand tighter.

“Y/N and Charlotte, I remembered,” the man grinned and nodded, “well, my name is Shane. I know we didn’t start this acquaintance on the most pleasant note, but I think we should all try again.”

“Does that mean we can stay here?” asked Lottie quietly, looking uncertainly at the big man.

“Sure,” he nodded his head, “yes, you can stay.”

Okay, maybe it was easier than you thought.

With a relieved exhale you were finally able to allow yourself to relax at least a little. Dale sat you both closer to the fire between him and Glenn, and you began to get to know the people around you. The blonde next to Amy was Andrea and you weren’t wrong to think they were sisters. T-Dog and Jacqui were introduced next. Lottie thought the guy’s name was funny. Carol then gave you a friendly smile and introduced her daughter Sophia. You guessed it here too. Oh, and her husband Ed, who wasn’t even paying attention to what was going on. Dale nodded toward where two adults and several children were sitting around a smaller fire. The old man introduced them as the Martinez family, and you recognized the woman as the one who had rushed to hide her children from you in the tent a couple of hours ago. She seemed friendlier now. Like everyone in this place. Oh, a little later a middle-aged man joined you and called himself Jim. He wasn’t too talkative, but he seemed to get along well with Dale, because pretty soon the two of them were discussing the old man’s motorhome and how to fix the insides of that old car.

The atmosphere became even more pleasant after everyone had eaten. You and Lottie refused to eat because Dale had already fed you a while ago. You were full, but the main reason was your shyness and unwillingness to eat all of these people's food. They had already given you too much in one day. After a while Carl dragged Sofia and Lottie away to play near the fire. The children were tired of listening to the boring adult conversations and no one dared blame them. You watched with a soft smile as your little sister was a little embarrassed but still interacting with the other children. She missed it. And you missed seeing her happy for so long.

“Hi,” you felt someone sit down on the log next to you. Lori.

“Hi,” you turned in her direction and only now noticed that most of the group had started to disperse to their tents.

"Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted this afternoon,” the woman clasped her hands together, looking in front of her, “the day was difficult and…”

"It’s okay, I understand,” you nodded, “times are like this, it’s dangerous to trust strangers from the woods so easily. I mean it’s always been unsafe, but things have definitely escalated now.”

“That’s for sure,” Lori grinned and nodded, “but I’m still sorry, Y/N.”

“Forget it, I’m not offended, really,” you smiled at her.

“Okay,” nodded Lori in response.

Lori was silent for a few moments before she spoke again.

“It’s good you’re here, I can’t imagine how hard it is to survive out there in the woods alone,” she sighed.

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy…” you nodded, “but Daryl saved us and I talked him into bringing us here for real.”

“It’s worth being careful with the Dixons,” Lori said, “Daryl and his brother Merle…they’re not easy to get along with.”

Merle? You’re hearing again that it’s best not to go near him. You didn’t know him, but you chose to trust everyone’s prejudices. Lori’s the second person to tell you to stay away from another Dixon. But if he resembled Daryl even a little bit, you could tell that he would indeed be difficult to get along with. But that’s if you wanted to, because so far, you haven’t.

“You don’t seem to like them both,” you said, throwing the twig into the fire without looking at Lori.

“With their arrival many no longer feel safe really,” the woman exhaled and looked at you, “Daryl at least hunts and contributes to this group, but his brother…don’t be alone with him, stay close to the others.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me a little,” you grinned a little wrongly.

“Sorry, just trying to give you a heads up that’s all,” Lori only shrugged.

"Okay, I’ll…keep in mind what you said,” you nodded. “That would be nice,” a soft smile appeared on her face. And you smiled back.

You sat silent in a cozy silence and looked at the fire. All around you could hear children’s laughter, the conversations of people you’d barely gotten to know, the tracks of a campfire and the murmuring of crickets in the grass. And at that very moment it seemed to you that life hadn’t changed at all. The dead don’t walk the earth and don’t eat the living. You hadn’t lost your parents and friends. And the thought of letting the walkers eat you and your little sister out of your own powerlessness hadn’t bothered you for the last week. It’s like everything’s back to normal.

Like you were living again.

Glenn was kind enough to give you and Lottie his tent. He promised he’d find you two your own when he went out on the highway again, but for now he’d moved into Dale’s motorhome.

You and Lottie wrapped yourselves in sleeping bags, which didn’t really keep you very warm on this cold Georgia night, but it was a lot better than sleeping on the grass in the woods with bugs getting into your hair and you could barely sleep, torturing yourself with the thought that walkers would appear at any moment. You finally felt safe. In that old camping tent in your sleeping bag, cradling your little sister in your arms to make you both feel warmer.

“I like it here,” whispered Lottie.

“We’re lucky to have come across such good people,” you said.

“I thought there were no survivors left, it’s been so long since we’ve seen them.”

“I’m sure this group is far from the only survivors.”

“I wish daddy had gotten to this place with us,” said Lottie faintly, pressing her thin lips together.

“I know, honey,” you closed your eyes, feeling the burning in them, “I wish he was here too.”

“Do you think he’s looking out for us? Grandmother always said the dead watch over us from the sky,” the girl asked with hope in her voice.

And who are you to dash her hopes? Even if you didn’t really believe in it. The dead walk the earth, not watch over the living from above. That’s the way it is. But Lottie doesn’t need to think about that.

“I hope he is,” you whispered, “he’s certainly happy for us. We survived and found a safe place with good people.”

“Yes, he’s happy for us,” agreed Lottie, “him and mommy.”

Lottie was silent for a while and you thought she had fallen asleep. You could still hear the crickets outside the tent.

“I don’t want you to go, Y/N,” Lottie said quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied with complete confidence.

“I don’t want you looking out for me from upstairs,” the girl said barely audibly.

You frowned. If only Charlotte knew what you’ve been thinking about lately. If only she could pay attention to how you almost gave up back then in the woods when the walkers caught you. What would she think? Would she trust you like she did before? You were scared. Scared that she’d find out. Scared that in a stressful situation you’d give up again and there wouldn’t be Daryl or someone else around to save Lottie instead of you. Scared that she might actually die. Scared that you might die, too. You didn’t really want that. You just didn’t know how else to handle the situation. You just let your weakness get the best of you and it almost killed you and your sister. And you didn’t want that to happen again.

“That won’t happen, I promise,” you whispered, “you and I will be together until the end, and I definitely won’t die before you."

"I love you, Y/N,” Lottie said a little louder.

“I love you too, sweetie,” you kissed the top of her head, “now go to sleep,” and pulled her tighter against you.

Toward morning, the sound of crickets and Lottie’s soft sniffling put you to sleep. And that sleep was so sweet.

[princescar]

I find Junko's sprites FASCINATEING

She doesn't have many from the og 1st game, obviously, but with the extras we've gotten tell alot

Most of them are her "personas", the sprites that she is most known for, but she also has her normal reaction sprites. Half of the are normal stances with slight different expressions, but the others are very exaggerated reactions she's playing up. Out of all her sprites, it seems only a small few are her expressing her genuine feelings.

I'm going to use my favorite sprites as examples:

Junko only has 3 "angry" sprites (if you dont count her "rocker" persona). Hers the only one in the 1st game:

Pretty well known, fits her fashionista style. Seems like shes about to cuss you out. I think one of its few uses was when Makoto tells her to not off herself.

But it's so intriguing when you look at the only other two angry sprites she has, and my two faves:

it's so interesting because these show RAW emotion. Like, it feels like when she flashes this look, you aren't living long after. It's so eerie because shes not being over the top, shes using her normal stance. The first being frightening enough, because when has Junko ever looked so serious ever in the whole franchise?? But the second? The one where her eyes are pricing, stare through you? It doesn't feel like the Junko we know, it feels like who Junko REALLY is, that her mask is OFF.

It's interesting because, compared to the other sprite, it feels like she's playing when she uses that sprite. She playing the pissy vally girl who is disgusted by some degenerates. It feels like she was still playing, right until the hydraulic press came down.

That's why I love these sprites so much. It feels like so much forgotten context.

Also extra that doesn't connect with the above:

Junko's sprite was 1000% drawn from Tsumugi's, as it only exists in DR:S and they line up perfectly. (Also this sprite is visibly higher quality that the others)

Junko is copying her copycat.

[mama-qwerty]

Okay, I brought this up in the Knuckles-focused discord server I'm in, so I think I'll just toss it out here.

Of all the variants and alternatives in Sonic Prime, the one that strikes me the most is (obviously) Knuckles. Why? Because his alternates may seem on the surface to just be "so unlike Knuckles, ha ha" when, if you really think about it, they're pretty much simply different parts of his personality. In a sense, HE was shattered, just as much as the universe was. The rest of the gang all seem products of their environments, but Knux feels different to me.

Renegade is the most like Prime Knuckles. He represents Knux's sense of duty. Of protection. He fights for a purpose, a reason, and that's what guides him. He isn't concerned with his own safety (if the various scars and such on his body are any indication) and instead will do whatever it takes to keep others safe and fight the evil Chaos Council. He's a guardian, even if what he's guarding is a concept instead of a giant magic rock.

I subscribe to the idea that Knuckles is infused with chaos energy, and can thus feel, sense, and possibly even see that energy in the world around him. So Gnarly is his connection to chaos. He seems kinda nuts, muttering and mumbling about the 'trees talking' to him, but what if they actually are? Chaos is infused in all living things, and since he lives in essentially a giant jungle, he would feel all that chaos associated with it. Maybe he's feeling that energy, and since there is so damn much of it, it feels like mutterings in his mind. Noise he can't place or ignore, and it makes him feel like he's going insane.

Now Dread, oh my boy Dread. I love that batshit boy, that off his rocker echidna. He is the part of Knuckles that maybe Knuckles doesn't even know he has. That part that makes him want to be seen, be recognized. Being the guardian of the Master Emerald is an invisible, thankless job, and maybe there's some small part of Knux that would like to be known. Dread is all about that notoriety, achieving 'legendary' status. He wants the fame, the attention. And keeping that Prism Shard all to himself would get him that.

Can't wait to see more of these boys in the next part of the season.

[radioisntdead]

Psst

Since we have a hat gremlin- what about other hat wearing Characters?

Sir pent., husker, Lucifer... SUSAN (angel wore a hat one time and so didnt vaggie- do they count?) and Valentino?

My only note is that if Valentino has one it is the equivalent to the most angry lil devil that bites his bald ass head like a rabid flea.

Good evening my dear! I GOT THIS ASK IN THE MORNING AND I KID YOU NOT IT HAS BEEN ON MY BRAIN SINCE. Switching between third person and referring to the reader as you

I'm thinking Sir Pentious's hat creature is like a little lizard, like the gecko lizard that tries to sell you car insurance but instead of car insurance it's just insurance, for what you ask? No idea it's probably a scam don't buy anything from hat lizard, Lil' hat lizard likes to take out with Sir Pentious's hat when he's sleeping, freaks out the eggy Bois, hat gecko totally tries to be a wingman and set him up with Cherri bomb! They are the best winggecko

Huskers hat creature is SMALL, they like the warmth from his fur, you take a lil' nappy nap, snoozy time, when he was a overlord they would help him win casino games, how you ask? I don't know, I don't know how it works but probably by stealing cards or something, his hat creature is probably drunk off their rockers too! Probably chill in cups when not in the hat.

Lucifers hat creature is a duck, 100% a regular duck, a duck that likes to vibe in a hat, that's all I got, the hat quacks. [Lilith gave you to him before leaving.] He likes to show you off to Charlie and the other sins "LOOK AT MY DUCK! THEY REALLY LIKE MY HAT HAhaA"

ANGEL'S CRIME HAT, his lil hat creature is just a lil' guy! He treats em' like a second child [the first is fat nuggets obviously] takes you out of the hat to dress you up, you probably ride fat nuggets like a horse when out of the hat, crime hat creature is totally small enough for that,

I despise Valentino so the bastard is, as per usual dying.

[Warning for mild implied suicide, it's not in depth but It's implied, just a sentence not the reader or the grapist.]

He doesn't have a hat gremlin he has a hat cursed demon leech.

Cursed leech wasn't always cursed, they originally clinged to one of Valentino's victims who ran out during extermination day and you can guess what fate they met.

You, the little hat thing wanted revenge for your fallen friend and so you exited the hat you were originally attached to and infested Valentino's.

Valentino has a constant headache because you bite, sharp teeth piercing his skin, he can't take the hat off because you latch on like a leech, you probably have some diseases that transfer to Valentino so he has to go to the doctors often.

Hat leech will eventually lead to Valentino's permanent death and only then will they be satisfied in taking revenge for their fallen friend, they will exit Valentino's hat and return to the one they left, maybe they'll move on to someone else and be their friend but until then they're on their own.

Vaggie doesn't have a hat gremlin, she has a BOW gremlin, allegedly came from heaven, you are the bow itself. Unraveling to be a bow creature that helps taking people out.

Bonus for Vox because he has a hat right? Or am I delusional we'll find out.

Lil robot creature, totally doubles as a spy, vox's hat is sometimes seen around the hotel stalking Alastor.

SUSAN MY BELOVED OLD GRUMPY LADY, I gotta write for her again soon!

Her hat creature is just like her! Old! her hat will rise up for a moment curse someone out before shrinking back down, similar to Rosie's gremlin, maybe they're related? They probably get into fights, the folks of cannibal town just see Susan's hat and Rosie's hat going at it, dueling probably with weapons I can see them using guns or sticks, sharp sticks,

Susan likes her hat creature, treats em' like a pet and feeds them sinners.

DOODLES TIME, I can't draw anyone's hats for the life of me.

My handwriting sucks but we don't talk about that

[ginger-snap-talkin-nonsense]

The sheer volume of antisemitism ALONE found in y’all’s “critiques” of Steven Universe is unavoidable. It is genuinely insane once you look through all of it. I remember how you defended Adam Sandler’s movies on the basis that much of the hate for them was overblown due to antisemitism, and it freaks me out how you just so obviously don’t give a shit about any of that when it comes to a Jewish creator (who’s a bisexual woman this time) that you personally hate. The extreme hypocrisy here is just unbelievable, it truly fucking is. You can have criticisms of SU NOT deeply rooted in antisemitic caricatures, ‘jokes’, and bigotry. But that’s definitely not the case when it comes to you, Mikaila, or Lily for that matter. I’m just focusing on your own obvious bigotry influencing your hatred of SU because it’s you I’m sending this ask to.

For fuck’s sake you’ve basically banned yourself from ever watching ANYTHING made by LGBTQ+ creators in general, like Nimona as well. Which DEFINITELY would play a major role in somebody hating Steven Universe. Bigotry influencing media tastes in one of the most blindingly obvious things that can happen to ANYBODY, and you’re the biggest moron around if you think it can’t happen to you. (If the fact that very obvious bigotries have influenced your relentless hatred against MOST diverse art made by marginalized creators didn’t make that fucking obvious enough to you yet)

You know I'm starting to think-and this may sound crazy what I'm bout to say-that you don't actually know what I have said about Steven Universe and have just taken word second hand that I talk about it more than I actually do

Might be off my rocker though that's just a theory

[courtneymylove88]

𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬*𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

To Boddah Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complain-ee.

This note should be pretty easy to understand. All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true.

I haven't felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guity beyond words about these things. For example when we're back stage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begins., it doesn't affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy.

The fact is, I can't fool you, any one of you. It simply isn't fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I'm having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage.

I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do,God, believe me I do, but it's not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they're gone. I'm too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.

On our last 3 tours, I've had a much better appreciation for all the people I've known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can't get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad.

The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don't you just enjoy it? I don't know! I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what i used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function.

I can't stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I've become. I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess.

Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away. Peace, love, empathy.

Kurt Cobain Frances and Courtney, I'll be at your alter. Please keep going Courtney, for Frances. For her life, which will be so much happier without me. I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!

[bennie-jerry]

Black Cat is NOT better than MJ - An Insomniac Rant

Listen, I'll definitely make a post about how crappy a love interest Insomniac's version of MJ is for Peter Parker (and when made, I'll link it in THIS post). But there ain't no way in dog drool I am EVER going to say that Black Cat is better love interest for him. If anything, a part of me would like to argue she's a bit worse.

"Oh, I only like her/ship them as a joke---" Congratulations, you can leave the post because I'm obviously not talking about you :)

Maybe I'm off my rocker, but what about this DC Catwoman copycat screams wifey-material to you guys? Felicia has manipulated, lied to, and used Peter for her own advantage time after time with seemingly no remorse. And even if she supposedly did for one millisecond, she sure as heck doesn't atone for it. And even when she apologized for tricking him into helping her, it sure sounded un-genuine.

Whether she truly had a son or not (though considering Felicia's history of being a pathological liar, I wouldn't put it past her), she used that narrative to trick Peter into a sense of false security, only to then trap him in a room after she got what she wanted.

And let's say that Felicia having a son WAS true. Guess what? THAT'S EVEN WORSE!

Because NOW instead of it just being a slimy scheme to get him vulnerable, she's lying to him by omission. Regardless of what her so-called intentions could be, she's still manipulating him which is an absolute no-bueno for ANY type of relationship (romantic or not).

You guys seriously need to stop glossing over how flawed these characters are just because you're attracted to them.

Y'all will complain up and down about how Peter's constantly broke but then want him to hook up with a chick that'd just steal his money without a blink? Make it make sense.

Once again, MJ is DEFINITELY not a good girlfriend for him either, but are we really going to pick a literal criminal as a love interest JUST because she's pretty?

“Oh, but Felicia has a similar lifestyle to Spider-Man!” Uh…no the freak she does NOT.

Spider-Man fights crime. Felicia COMMITS crimes.

Do they have chemistry? Yes, way more than an actual chemistry lab. But Felicia would absolutely NOT be a good long-term partner for Peter—he deserves way better than her.

At this point, if Peter having a love interest MUST (utterly MUST) be a prerequisite, I'd genuinely prefer he at least (at the freaking LEAST) get with Sable or Watanabe (before she became Wraith, that is—don’t even get me started on that mess) because at least those two try to have SOME (not good but some) sense of decent morality.

“Oh but look at her, she's bad–” You don't need to project the fact you're a masochist on everyone else.

If you're the kinda person who likes being manipulated and taken advantage of by people you find hot, that's your problem you need to get fixed in therapy.

But here's what annoys me the most about this whole thing: I know for a FACT that if MJ was the more attractive one and that FELICIA was mid-looking, you guys would then be SCREAMING for her to be with Peter instead of Felicia.

Really think about it. Without Felicia's looks, what kind of person is she? Is she really someone worth being with? Don't worry, I have the answer: NO-

Felicia is in NO way a better love interest for Peter and I'm tired of people acting like she is just because she looks like an Instagram cosplayer.

“Felicia's always been this way in the comics and stuff—”

As if that makes it any better. If anything, all that's doing is giving me MORE proof as to why she's not a good person for him WHATSOEVER.

If the genders were reversed, you'd all be grossed out by Felicia, let's not even lie. If Felicia was a guy doing all of this to a female version of Peter, you'd all be calling him a creep and trying to cancel him on Twitter -_-

[the-man-with-many-faces]

Hey, the internet is an interesting place, isn't it? The epitome of the good, the bad and the ugly.

Whats up! I'm Surya!

(This is an OC ask blog. Surya's 15 and a sumeru character, 5 star, and a pyro vision)

(Now for the backstory of how I created him. I'm a decently prominent user on hoyolab with 300+ followers (idk how) and somehow became a huge part of this online friend group that made a lot of genshin ocs and ship content and I love them so so much)

(so naturally I created a ship child of my own. Surya's the adopted son of Layla and Nilou (a rarepair I enjoy shipping) and I created a backstory and voicelines for him and everything)

(a lot of things are still in development and I encourage any and all interactions! But there are some guidlines)

(1. don't be toxic

2. Any ships are allowed but if something makes me uncomfortable (like I said Surya's fifteen (and I am a minor) so I won't respond to anything NSFW and anything that makes me uncomfortable in general)

3. May not respond to DMs.

AND THATS ALL

SILLINESS IS ENCOURAGED :)

Now for the voicelines!

Hello - Well, if it isn’t the all powerful nomad himself! I’m Surya, the adoptive son of the genius Rtawahist student Layla and Nilou, the greatest dancer of all of Teyvat! I’m not one for brute violence, but if you need someone for acting tips and psychological warfare, I’m your guy! 

More about Surya (Part 1): You want to know my secret to acting? Heh, many people had asked me that exact same thing before… of course I haven’t told them anything. They’d use my context against me. But I’d have no problem telling you, travelers - Why? Because you’d have no use for it, of course. Even with as much as I trust you, I have suspicions that you would use anything you could to get what you wanted. I don’t even mean it as a bad thing. In fact, I rather admire you for it…

About Surya - Part II-

Heh, you’re not going to stop pestering me about this are you? Fine, fine. I’ll quit stalling. The reason I’m so good in acting is that the people who act a role are always told to know a character. When they play their part they always seem so related to a character. Their mothers, fathers, siblings, best friend, lover… but never the characters themselves. As an analogy, obviously. They convey the personality of a character fairly well so that it’s easier for the audience to distinguish between the characters and what makes them significant in the plot. These actors even understand the character’s lives, their struggle, their relationships… but its not enough. It’s NEVER enough. You need to BE the characters. No… no… EVEN THATS NOT ENOUGH! You need to become the very god who would have created and controlled every aspect of the character as if he existed in this very world! Heh, must''ve sounded a little off my rocker there, but no true artist has a right state of mind. I was always rather interested in psycology as a child, before I even got into acting. Even the slightest twitch of a muscle can speak volumes of a person, traveller.

More about Surya 3: Studies - Guhhh, I wish I took something OTHER than Spantamad for the Akademiya. There’s just so much to memorize! And I HATE HATE HATE memorizing! Maybe I should just get a split nocturnal personality myself that would do all my homework for me. But seriously, if I didn’t convince former grand sage Professor Cyrus to tutor me, I’d have been kicked out YEARS ago.

Chat: Lore and legends - Mythology is interesting, but it’s not my thing. Why bother or ponder something that may or may not be real? I mean, I can understand why people care and enjoy it, but it’s a pointless concept to me. It doesn’t even affect us and our lives!

Chat: Good and evil - How many people have you met on your travels so far at this point traveler? About hundreds? Vision bearers like us must’ve been the ones who’ve made an impact (a genshin impact) the most on you. Out of curiosity, have you ever met someone with absolutely pure intentions, or intentions for purely satirical joy? Heh, of course few of the only people with pure intentions were my parents. I do love them so. 

I’ve heard you had multiple encounters with the Fatui? Must’ve met a few of the Harbingers yourself with all the trouble you’ve caused, heh. Do you think they do the things they do out of purely evil purposes? Il Dottore? Okay, that’s fair enough, you’ve got me there.

Chat: Knowledge and wisdom - According to what I’ve studied in the Akademiya, the definition of knowledge is the fact or condition of knowing something with familiarity gained through experience or association. But our beloved lesser lord Kusanali is known as the archon of knowledge and wisdom. She was locked away when the Akademiya was corrupted by the former sages for a long time, wasn’t she? And got most of the wisdom she knows today by taking all of the dreams of the citizens of Sumeru. If so, if she hasn’t experienced things herself firsthand. So, can we really call her the archon of knowledge? I’m probably looking into this too much, amn’t I? Phew, sorry.

When it rains: Ahhh, the rain feels nice on my skin! I almost wanna burst into song and dance!

When thunder strikes: Agh! That sounds like a gunshot!….oh thank god. It's just thunder.

When it snows: It's pretty cold…hope my fingers don’t freeze and break off my hand.

When the sun is out: Whew, now it’s pretty hot! 

In the desert: The sun..is so hot….I’m gonna melt into a puddle in my shoes…AAAHHHH SCARABS!

Good morning: Do you have any sweets by any chance? I need some sugar to fully wake up now.

Good afternoon: The perfect time for multiple cups of Chai! And maybe psych people out just for fun, hehe.

Good night: Have a good rest, traveler. I’m just going to stay up a bit to study if you don’t mind.

About Surya: Psychology - Psychology is something I got into when I noticed amma’s nocturnal personality when I was a lot younger. Oh, sorry! I meant to say Layla, didn’t mean to confuse you there. I was curious about why she acted that way, was it out of free will or was it a mental disorder of some sort? Not that it was a bad thing, it was the only reason she managed to even complete some of her assignments in the first place! It’s something I apply to real life and my acting almost everyday. How do I do it? Tag along and maybe I can teach you.

About Surya: Morality (unlocked after Caeleste solem et lunam - Act 1) - Sigh, look traveler, I’m….aware the things I’ve done in the past were far from pardonable. But even then, you still helped me at my lowest point. Sometimes I get so into acting like someone else that I completely forget who I am and who I’m supposed to be. Hopefully my journey to find myself will help me realize who I really am.

About us: Mutual relations - Hey, um, about my moms….take care of them for me, alright? They’re definitely the strongest people I know, but I can’t help but worry for them, haha. 

About us: Unwinding - Genius Invocation time, haha! Who knows, maybe you’ll actually beat me! I do enjoy moments like these, where we don’t need to think about anything else other than the cards in our hands! 

Have I ever played against the General Mahamatra? I feel like he’d get too competitive and ruin the purpose of the game for me. And I’m…pretty sure he hates me.

About the vision - My pyro vision really adds that little ‘razzle dazzle’ to my performances! I kinda wish I got an electro one instead, but I’m not complaining! I’m not complaining.

Something to share - Y’know, the only reason why Professor Cyrus is tutoring me now is because I promised to analyze his rival Zaha Hadi’s cropping style for tomatoes! So he could get one up on her, hehe. It’s a little strange, but I desperately need the help.

About Layla - She along with Nilou had taken me in when I was just a baby! She was still studying in the Akademiya back then, so it was hard for her to balance all the work, but they somehow managed! And ‘other Layla’ is as much of a parental figure as normal Layla is, but they are definitely different in styles of….everything. Between her and Nilou, she’s the more logical one. I’ve got some math skills from her too! I don’t understand why she needs to work so hard, she’s one of the smartest people I know. Hahhh, such is the Akademiya. Making sure evry single cell in your body has knowledge.

About Nilou - Nilou was the more empathetic parent. I could talk to her about just anything in the world, and even if she doesn’t agree with me, she always tries her best to understand my point of view. People don’t usually realize how hard it could be to represent something that wasn’t connected to knowledge in the nation of wisdom, but she has managed to make a name for herself despite oppression from the Akademiya when it was corrupted. I hope I will be able to make her proud once I make a name for myself.

About Cyno - He…he isn’t here is he?! He kinda hates me. And by kinda, I mean REALLY hates me. The former General Mahamatra huh? He’s the person I have the hardest time figuring out. What gave him the determination to execute his idea of justice? Who says that it's even right? Granted, there really is no right or wrong, but you know what I mean, traveler. And the biggest question of all, how are he and the head forest ranger even as close as they are? It’s rather unlikely if you ask me. And I lied. The biggest question of all is why he tells those horrendous jokes of his?! If they’re told with the intention of making people feel more at ease around him, it's obviously not working. 

I told him my opinion personally at one point, and he forced me to sit down to listen to five of his best jokes. The man is terrifying, I’ll give him that.

About Wanderer - Wanderer? Who the hell is he….hat guy? Oh, Hat guy! The weird Inazuma exchange student! He’s in the Vahumuna darshan. He keeps to himself a lot, other than with that Akademiya errand boy he always eats lunch with. When I asked him about where in Inazuma he’s from, he got really defensive and told me to back off. Seems like he doesn’t want to talk about home. Homesickness, or wanting to get away from past memories there? 

About Tighnari - Hm, there’s nothing really strange about him. He’s mostly normal, and definitely one of the better research scientists I’ve seen. Definitely more ethical, as far as I’m concerned. Got quite the sharp tongue however, that’s certain. That’s gonna get him in a lot of trouble one day……what do you mean I better not let Cyno hear me say this?

Surya’s hobbies - I don’t even need to answer that question, do i? Acting and TCG!

Surya’s troubles - I’ve been told by many, MANY people that I’m way too honest. And a lot of people fear me about how much I observe people and how I know a lot of their secrets just by looking at them. I don’t exactly have many friends…but I don’t really need them. …..I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to hang around me though, traveler.

Favorite food - Do you wanna know a secret traveler? The best biryani….is from WEDDINGS. I’ve more than often found myself sneaking into other people’s weddings just for the biryani. Have I gotten caught? What do you think?

Least favorite food - I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE anything with alcohol. How do people even enjoy that stuff?! It’s bitter and gross. What do you mean wine can be sweet?! You’re lying!

Receiving a gift: 1 - Ah, I see you come bearing gifts!

Receiving a gift: 2 - Hmmm, not bad. I can work with this!

Receiving a gift: 3 - …….don’t take this personally but this is the most **** ***** **** ******* I’ve ever seen.

Birthday - TRAVELER! I heard it was your BIRTHDAY!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUUUU..I’m kidding I’m not gonna sing, for now at least. May your birthday be full of good food, fun times with friends and happy memories! Here, I made a card for you! It’s nothing much…but I worked really hard on it! I heard you were still looking for your sibling. I’ve been inquiring about them when I’m not too busy. I do hope you end up finding them one day.

Feelings about ascension: Intro - Yeah! We’ve got the power!

Feelings about ascension: Building up - C’mon, no point stopping now!

Feelings about ascension: Climax - We’re almost there! It’s nearly showtime!

Feelings about ascension: Conclusion - You knew this was coming for a long time….I JUST WANNA BE PART OF YOUR SYMPHONYYYY.

Damn thats a lot

and last but not least

ART!!

THIS IS BY @punchesyou literally picasso reincarnated go follow her RN

I made this on picsrew (he looks 5 :( )

Ugly ahhh drawing by me :(

and that's it!

I'll be posting voicelines everyday cause I know y'all might not have time to read them all

love ya pookies! <3 )

[ladyseidr]

So, as you may know from his muse page, Rory has ( obviously undiagnosed ) ADHD. I wanted to delve more into this ( and project some of my ADHD onto him lmaooo ).

so, we'll start heavier and then move on to the mostly lighter stuff: yes, his ADHD is disabling. no, he does not know that. yes, he's thinks he's just lazy and stupid ( he's not </3 ).

no, his would-be-shitty-no-matter-what parents do not help the above, although his mom's emotional abuse / judgment actually gives him the bigger complex abt it

he does struggle academically despite the fact that, talking to him about his interests / stuff he's knowledgeable about, he clearly comes across intelligent. he struggles with focus, some memory issues, plus general test anxiety despite claiming to not care about school. he hears a lot of "try harder" despite, like, actually putting effort in for many years of his schooling.

he graduates high school, barely ( as in, highly considered dropping out for 101 reason, including the ADHD ). no, he doesn't even consider college.

the combination of untreated ADHD, C-PTSD, and definitely an ( un ) healthy dose of depression make it hard for him to work "traditional jobs," so he does mostly odd jobs. at some point after getting his own place, i def think he starts diving into his art a little more. can aspen write a muse who isn't a creative? tune in next time to find out.

unrelated, but i am serious about the band idea. about him joining some local, semi-decent band as a singer.

ANYWAY some lighter stuff now: guy who always has one major ( months and months long ) and one minor ( 1-2 weeks ) hyperfixation going on at all times.

his common types of hyperfixations tend to be: specific comic book series or characters, specific bands, D&D, video games, and so forth.

he does get pulled back to previous hyperfixations sometimes, especially favorite characters ( like batg.irl, green ar.row, nightc.rawler, spid.er-man, etc )

please let him infodump at you. please let your muse find it endearing when he talks for 30 minutes straight about the latest Batm.an series. or about his new spray paint. or about anything.

btw i'm adding this just to be petty because i brought up comics but i promise you he called in and voted for jason not to die. i think older rory read "Under the H.ood" and felt the most validation he'd ever felt in his life. this isn't even fn.af-related anymore, let me get mad about D.C for a second—

( actually let's be real rory relating to jason big time is Real and Canon to me. anyway hayla, if you're reading this—)

sometimes his brain moves faster than his mouth and he literally can't say what he wants to say fast enough to get it out coherently ( real real real ).

he does miss social cues sometimes, but how much of that is ADHD vs him just not being properly socialized prior to school is debatable. pre-bite, he's able to laugh it off when someone calls him on it.

projecting big time but i think he should be a rocker ( as a stim ). if he's sitting down, he's probably rocking or bouncing his leg or something. if he's standing, he's shifting foot-to-foot constantly. that's not to say he can never be still, but he stims quite a lot. it's not always ( or even often ) a sign of nerves, he just gets restless.

in fact, honestly a lot of his idle behavior can scream "nervous" if you don't realize he's simply restless.

his recklessness is honestly not something i'd attribute to his ADHD. he has little care for his own safety, but i think that's a lot broader then ( or even wholly unrelated to ) his ADHD

does he ever get diagnosed? it's probably well into his 30s before he can even be convinced to try therapy, but yeah, i think eventually he gets diagnosed and tbh i think he probably cried the first time he read the, like, symptoms of it and realized it fit him. also when he gets on medication. this is supposed to be a happy bullet point but AGH </3

anyway rory infodumping at your muse starter call when?