#quality shit pun intended

[sootyships]

Eng translation of the story:

25.06.2014 23:33:31 No. 28451963 >>28448792 this reminded me :DD >be at camp >be in foxhole guard >hnng, really fucking need to take a shit >feel how the shit has reached a brick-like consistency during the 3 days of holding it in >1st Lt comes to check, try to look sharp >1st Lt leaves >hurry to take a shit, there's a spruce next to the foxhole >old alliance guerilla shit: both hands around the tree, squatting position, and push >suddenly 1st Lt appears from another direction >lustful eye contact.jpg >1st Lt looks on with a thousand-mark bill expression while the fighter hugs a tree with his pants around his ankles >right then the bowel says it's time to evacuate >accompanied by a lllrps sound, the brick-turd pushes itself out >1st Lt finds his voice >is just about to start some "what up man" thing >at the same time the shit decides to perform a quick exit >interrupt the first lieutenant with a sickly, loud "HNNNNNNGAAYY" sound >shit pushes out >harder than the eruptions of vesuvius and krakatau combined >makes, i shit you not, a small "konk" sound when it hits the frozen ground >1st Lt loses his poker face >laughs hysterically and leaves while laughing >wipe your ass, bury the poop and go back to the guard post >never hear about the poop episode ever 5/5 I would poop again.

En ehtiny lukee puoleenväliin ilman huutonauroa. Voisiko joku kuvittaa tästä sarjakuvan tms? 

[spiritedaway34o]

um erm um eujwwjjwjwnshhwuwiAAAAAH cruel king x servant/knight reader?

YOU GOT IT!!

-🧊 when you first got knighted for the king. He was very cold to you (pun intended)

-🧊 as in he would rarely ever talk to you, and when he did it was short responses bossing you around

-🧊 you had to earn his trust. Which was hard as shit, like it took you at least 2 months for him to say please when bossing you

-🧊 once you broke his shell and moderately started getting a long, he was over all pretty nice and open to talk. But talking about the dagger would deteriorate yalls relationship

-🧊 when he realized he liked you, it was more denial he just wouldn't accept the fact he was in love with his knight. Little did he know the feeling was mutual

-🧊 you'd have to start the relationship, since he thought you didn't feel the same [he was also afraid he was going to drive you away]

-🧊 but God when you started dating, he was head over heels for you.

-🧊 his main love language is definitely quality time, since he rarely ever has time to see you. Since he's a fucking king, he makes sure to cherish you every time you and him can be in love

I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD :D

[i-have-a-mouth-so-i-must-scream]

Cross Guild Angst

🦅🗡️🤡✨🚬🐊

Currently stuck in bed due to a bad cold (clogged up nose and skull splitting headache), and just going through my old playlists.

Listening to a male cover version of Charlotte Lawrence's "Joke's on You" and my mind immediately came up with a Cross Guild Polycule angst scenario where Croc and Mihawk did/said something that triggered the clown's insecurities real bad and deeply hurt Buggy. So bad that it left the clown feeling like their whole relationship is a lie and that it's all just a big joke at his expense 😢🤡.

Que Buggy's heartbreak and quiet resignation that nobody will ever want or truly love him for him. He bottles up all his emotions and turmoil, and just accepts that reality.

So, slowly and steadily, Buggy starts pulling away from the both of them emotionally while acting like nothing has changed, so that when the shoe comes down and his so called lovers come clean about the whole situation, how they only needed something to entertain themselves with, like toying with him and his emotions, the fallout wouldn't hurt him as much as they think it will.

Basically Buggy going all, "Haha! How silly of me! No one could ever possibly want me! I'm a cowardly failure and a hack with no redeeming qualities! It was real dumb of me to ever consider these two powerful and handsome men would even consider loving me! lmfao!... It's okay though!... I just should have seen it sooner... Silly me lol..." 🤡😅😂🤣😄😌🥲😢💔💔💔

Unbeknownst to the Star Clown, Crocodile and Hawk Eyes have slowly started to notice that something was up with their clown. Their interactions were getting colder, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes anymore, he stopped bothering them at all but, when he does it's strictly for business, his expressive eyes have lost that warm sparkle that he had for them and worst of all, any private time they have with him seems almost... detached, in some way (no devil fruit pun intended).

When they ask (confront) him about it, the clown just laughs it off like it's some hilarious inside joke between the three of them. They brush it off as Buggy being dramatic and everything just carries on like nothing happened.

They don't realize until it literal months later that what they did/said caused him so much grief that his insecurities flared up so bad that he started believing that they never did love him in the first place. That they were that cruel to use him like that.

By then, Buggy had quietly moved all his stuff back into his private tent and had stopped sleeping with them altogether.

He was still Buggy the Star Clown. Loud, flamboyant and overly flashy Emperor of the Sea... but he wasn't their Buggy anymore.

All in all, I just wanna see those two goons unknowingly fumble the bag and have a total "Oh, shit!" moment and scramble to get their heartbroken clown back.

[isa-ghost]

do u have death family headcanons....

NO FUCKING MAMES I HAD 14 OUT OF 15 DONE FOR THIS ASK AND THEN TUMBLR YEETED THEM. I'M GONNA SCREAM AND COMMIT MURDER, IDR THEM ALL. FUCK.

ANYWAY YOU BET YOUR GAY ASS I HAVE DEATH FAMILY HCS.

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Family walks, Chayanne on Phil's shoulders and Lullah on Missa's. Or they do that thing where there's one kid between them and they take either hand and lift/swing them together.

Family gardening. Missa using his reaper scythe to harvest things, Chayanne and Lullah replanting seeds, Phil going full crow brain and hoarding all the harvested crops in crates.

The kids are Phil & Missa's biggest wingmen. Lullah will lead them somewhere and then be like "Oh. Oh nooo, oh noooo my asthmaaaa" and teleport away. And then suddenly there's Chayanne with a table for 2 and an entire kitchen setup with a dinner in progress.

They'll plot "relaxation" days for Phil and Missa too. It's a toss-up if either of them actually relax though. Missa's better at it than Phil at least.

No one cheered harder about the prison kisses than Chayanne and Lullah. They wish their dads a very "do it again. Often."

Phil and Missa are constantly conspiring together about cool things to do with/for the kids. Even when they're away from each other they'll write books leaving the other a message like "shhh don't tell the kids :)"

They'll also plan days Just for one of the kids where whatever the family does is centered around their interests. It's nice for them, because although they have mutual interests and are more than willing to do whatever the other wants, they still have unique interests and it can naturally get tiring being a package deal. Especially when so many of the other eggs are only children and get doted on by their parents with undivided attention

They get separation sadness a lot bc reaper duties and Phil's extremely deep sleep/vivid dreams keep them apart so often, but their little system of leaving gifts (Missa his paintings, Phil misc trinkets) for each other works. It's not as good as a hug or quality time though :(

Everyone's passing each other's accents to one another. Missa finds himself slipping up saying "bewk" (book) or some shit, meanwhile Phil keeps saying stuff with a Spanish accent because of Missa and Lullah and everyone keeps adopting German words into their vocabulary because of Chayanne.

Phil and Missa are both good at pvp, they love sparring with each other and teaching the kids. Chayanne is way more into it than Lullah, but Lullah loves to learn regardless, and she loves hearing Phil infodump about strategy and timing and whatnot.

Missa and the kids will team up and get Phil on one of his Philzaing rants. They'll be like "what do you MEAN you couldn't physically carry all three of us on a flight? :(" and there Phil goes, raving about how weight matters with flying and safety and blah blah blah. And he KNOWS they're getting a rise out of him most of the time. Yet he falls for it every time.

One day,, one day we'll get a 4/4 family build project,,, They want to do it do bad,, So far it's just been 3/4 make it and the 4th is delighted to be shown it by the kids whenever they're around again. (August 2024 Edit: KILLS MYSELF)

Phil and the kids have started half-purposely obtaining as many birds as they have bc it's funny to see Missa come back from reaper duties to MORE birds that he just has to accept live there now.

The kids love Phil's crow murder to death (pun intended) and are used to interacting with them. Missa not so much. Which has made for countless funny moments. He's still bewildered that they're so attuned to throwing something shiny at him and then aggressively cawing. He doesn't understand them like Phil can.

Something something the four of them having a seance together where Lullah taps into her medium abilities to communicate with Kristin bc Goddess of Death is part of the Death Family. She loves to tease Missa (usually about Phil) and she ADORES the kids.

[pedroshotwifey]

Joel Fucking Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (Can be pictured as either HBO or Video Game version)

Word Count: 8.1k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, Smut with a lil garnish of angst, kinda mean Joel, Borderline Dark!Joel, but consent is given at a point, one singular spank, rough piv sex, exhibition kink, slight humiliation/degradation, possessive behavior, enemies to lovers-ish?, reader is a menace but we love her, spit kink, anal play, this is pure filth and I'm not sorry

Summary: You and Joel Miller have been sworn enemies from the very start, both of you at each other’s other's throats since the first glance. What he can't know is that you have been harboring a stubborn crush on him this whole time---It’s not until he has you up against a wall that you realize he feels the same way.

A/N: Now that I have all of my one-shots posted, I'm going to start posting my ongoing stories as well as some new works. I'm almost finished with the Frankie Sex Pollen fic so that will be posted sometime this week. I will also be working on creating both a masterlist and a recommendation list, so hopefully that should be done soon too. Thanks for reading!

***

Today has been a shitty fucking day—no pun intended. 

Not to say every day isn’t shitty here in the QZ, but this one really takes the cake. To start your fabulous day, you woke up an hour late, making you one of the last people in line to pick up jobs. When you got to the assigning station, you found that you had been left with two options for the week: janitorial service at one of the mess halls, and sewer duty—where you literally have to shovel shit. The only card left for the mess hall was an all-day shift. You took them both.

That's why you find yourself here now, below the city, finishing up sewer duty, covered head to toe in stench and sweat even though it’s the middle of winter. You’re pretty sure you are the last one down here; it’s been a while since you saw or heard anyone else. You aren’t surprised. You’re used to being the only one who cares enough to actually finish whatever job you were tasked with that day, no matter how repulsive it may be. 

You don't take pride in much, but you are willing to admit that you admire that quality about yourself. You are a damn hard worker and you aren’t afraid to show it. You have no idea where it stems from, maybe your stubbornness, or possibly your inner perfectionist. Whatever it is, you find yourself often wishing that more people would have the same mindset. God knows it would make your life easier at the very least. In the time you have spent in the Boston QZ, you have only had the pleasure—or maybe you should say displeasure—of meeting one other like-minded person. 

You became acquainted with Joel Miller within the first day of being in the QZ, which was about three years ago now. The first glance you got of him was as you were being hauled through the gates, lucky enough to have not been shot on the spot when a couple of FEDRA officers caught you hiding out in the woods. Your eyes met his before they met anyone else's, and he’d held your gaze, his expression anything but welcome, as if he were trying to evaluate you with one look. 

By the looks of it, he had to be at least a couple of decades older than you, but that didn’t stop the heat that started to simmer between your legs at the first glance you got of him. When his eyes didn't leave yours, you took it as a challenge and forced yourself to keep your gaze on him until he was completely out of sight. You knew what you were doing, and so did he, both of you deciding on the spot that you would be enemies until one of you either died or left. 

Sure, you knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to piss people off before you made any allies, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. From the first second you saw that man, you knew that one way or the other—one of them being a heated feeling you chose to ignore—he would be trouble. As per usual, you were right. If you didn't know any better, you would have said that he was dead-set on following you around, bumping into you at almost every job you took. At first, you had been convinced that he had been doing just that.

 The first couple of times it happened you considered it some stupid coincidence, some twisted kind of unluckiness. Granted, it wasn't every time, but it was more often than not, and that was more than enough for you. By the fifth or sixth time out of ten, you waited until the very end of the shift, until it was only Joel and yourself left working. You kept a close eye on him, and as soon as he started wrapping up, you cornered him. That had been the first time that you had ever actually spoken to each other instead of tossing nasty glances back and forth. 

You had immediately gone to work with your rushed interrogation, demanding him to tell you why he was following you, to tell you what his problem was. The most frustrating part of the whole ordeal was the way he had sat back, leaning on one leg with his arms crossed, his expression bored as he waited for you to finish. He said nothing until he was positive that you had nothing more to say. 

“I ain't followin’ you, kid,'' he had said, his voice deep and more pleasant than you would have liked it to be. His tone was hard, as you had expected it would be, but the tangy southern drawl and depth of his voice took you off guard, an unwelcome heat suddenly forming between your legs—which only pissed you off more. 

The stone-cold look in his too-pretty eyes only worsened the feeling, and suddenly you found that you weren't able to speak; you didn't even know what you had come up to say at this point.  “Don’t fuckin’ bother me again,” he muttered and pushed past you before you could realize you had been staring.

***

“You just gonna fuckin’ stand there all day?” A much too familiar voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. Speak of the fucking devil. 

“Just finishing up, Miller,” you spit, not bothering to look in his direction. You can hear him start to walk up to you but you ignore it, opting instead to actually finish what you had been doing. It only takes a few more seconds, and by that time, you can practically feel Joel staring a hole into your back, no more than a few feet behind you now. 

He doesn't move, so you continue to ignore him and start walking to the ladder so you can get out of this literal shit hole. You only make it a few steps before you realize that he is moving with you, following at the same distance he had stopped at before. Your jaw ticks as you spin around on your heel, so suddenly that Joel almost knocks into you.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you ask him as sweetly as you can manage, the fire in your eyes contradicting your tone. His own eyes narrow as he takes a step back, crossing his arms in his usual fashion. 

“Maybe you should learn how to help yourself first before you go offerin’ it to other people, princess.” He says the name as an insult, and you have to bare your teeth to keep your composure. 

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean, old man?” You ask him, taking a step toward him. He doesn't back away this time, instead taking a step toward you in reciprocation. The two of you lock gazes and stare at each other for what could have been ten seconds or ten days before Joel breaks the trance and shoves past you instead of answering. 

You just stand there and let him climb the ladder to the street above you. You can see right through him, the asshole wants a reaction, and you're not going to grant him that satisfaction—not this time anyway. 

You wait for a few minutes until you can be sure that he's long gone before you grit your teeth and turn on your heel, walking to the ladder and hoisting yourself up. As you reach the surface you catch a whiff of yourself and scrunch your nose. You need a fucking shower.

***

The next day, you wake up in a sour mood, already dreading today's job—janitorial services. At least it's not scooping shit this time. You’re the first one there, as per usual. The hall is a mess after breakfast and you take a deep breath as you think about the fact that even after you scrub it spotless, it will be trashed again by the end of lunch and then again after dinner.

To top it all off, it's ridiculously cold in the room, the fire lit in the back of it not doing much to increase the temperature. You look down at your white cotton t-shirt under your flannel and find yourself wishing you had put a thicker undershirt on.

There aren't many people working with you on the first shift, only the usual other three this morning, not that you're complaining of course, it just means fewer people to get in your way. You keep your eyes to yourself most of the time, only looking at someone if they address you to ask for help or to comment on something. Before you know it, lunch has come and gone and you are preparing for dinner. 

You notice halfway through that time that your friend is working the second shift, and she approaches you so you can work together for the rest of the time, though she only has the after-lunch shift. Rachel is a hard worker for the most part, though she likes to slack off a lot, but you appreciate the help while you have it. The two of you gossip and joke quietly until it's time for her to leave and time for you to sit back and wait for the dinner crowd to flood in.

***

It feels like a week has passed by the time the last person clears out after dinner, and you breathe a sigh of relief—you’re so close to getting back to your apartment and into your welcoming bed. You immediately get to work on sweeping up the trash that collected underneath the tables, eager to get out of here. 

There are only two other people working with you this shift, which is weird because FEDRA usually has at least four people on each job, but you brush it off. They seemed to know each other and they blab amongst themselves as they work. At least the couple seemed like they were in the same mindset when it came to getting this job done, so you didn’t mind the fact that you are missing a crew member. 

Halfway through your sweeping, you hear the door slam open, startling you and the couple that is now busy with taking leftover dishes into the kitchen. The chill that sweeps through the large room makes you assume it was just a gust of wind, probably blowing snow into the doorway. 

Great, something else to clean, you think as you huff an annoyed breath. 

When you turn to face the sound though, you find yourself wishing that the problem had been snow, but of course, when did anything ever go your way? The supposed gust of wind is actually Joel fucking Miller.

Your mood immediately sours and you have to fight not to roll your eyes as you watch him slink into the room and follow the couple into the kitchen. You hear the girl inform him that he was late—as if he didn’t know, or care for that matter. He only grunts in response. You don’t bother to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head. If Joel sees it, he doesn't say anything. 

***

An hour later, Joel hasn’t bothered you, much to your relief. The only time you have to look up from your work is when the couple from earlier bids you farewell before they walk out the door. There is nothing left to do but scrub the tables, which you are doing now. 

You only have two to go, and then you’re free for the rest of the night. Now that you're the only one left, the room is almost eerily silent, the only sound being the drip of water as you dip your sponge into the bucket and wring it out. After the table you are working on is thoroughly cleaned, you move on to the last one. It sits right next to the busted window, and you shiver as you walk past it. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” The baritone voice sounding from behind you just about causes you to jump out of your skin, the bucket of water in your grasp suddenly spilling over your front. Of course, it was a huge fucking bucket, so it was enough water to coat almost your entire body. 

The white t-shirt you have on under your thick flannel is soaked through so that it’s practically transparent. Dropping the now empty tub to the floor with a loud clang, you swivel on your heel to face Joel, who is leaning against the wall to his right, arms crossed.

 If he sees the fire in your eyes, he ignores it as he smirks at you, obviously humored by your reaction—and likely by the fact that he can see your bra. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, every expletive or reprimand that comes to mind doesn’t seem to cover what you want to say. 

As you stand there soaked in dirty, soapy water, you find that you can do nothing but stare. Your gaze is stuck on the man still standing in front of you, not a twinge of empathy in his own, which he has trained on you in return. You have no idea how long the two of you stay rooted to the same spots, staring each other down, but it must have been at least a few minutes because you can feel your body start to involuntarily shiver as your drenched form begins to freeze. 

Of fucking course you had to have been standing right next to the broken, half-assed boarded-up window, and not by the fire that still rages into the chimney on the other side of the room. 

The cool air sweeping in seems to trap you in its frigid grasp, threatening to turn the grayish liquid that covers you into ice. You can't help it as you finally move, bringing your arms up to cross over your chest in a feeble attempt to warm your rapidly cooling body and cover your exposed undergarment. You flinch as your arm presses the freezing fabric closer to your skin.

The action seems to break the invisible spell that had set over the two of you because Joel takes that as his queue to take a step back off the wall and lift his chin. The movement makes him look bigger and you have to lift your own to look into his eyes again. You can only hope he sees the fury that burns on your own. If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor right now. 

“You’re fucking joking,” you are the first to break the silence. The quiver in your voice would be embarrassing if not for the fact that it was placed there out of anger. The asshole who put it there must know it too because you can see the way he swallows as if trying to rid himself of his guilt, though if that’s what he is feeling, he doesn’t show it any other way. 

You can expect that the action will be the only sign of such a thing—if Joel Miller doesn't want to feel a certain way, he doesn’t, simple as that. You have never once met a man more rude, nor stubborn as the one currently in front of you.  

“Didn’t realize I was bein’ funny,” he says, straight-faced with that stupid southern drawl that you have come to despise. You don’t reply as you continue to stare daggers at him, and you can't tell what’s making you shake more at this point—the layer of fucking ice about to coat your body, or the unmatched rage that brews in your mind.

 Right now, you would place your bets on the rage, considering it’s actually starting to warm you up. The sight of Joel, arms crossed to mimic your own, still staring down at you like he's some fucking god, only fuels the feeling. Sighing quietly, your eyes shut as you try to calm yourself down before you say something you would really regret. It only takes a few seconds until you speak again, which might not have been long enough, truthfully speaking. 

“That was pretty fucking shitty, even for you, Miller.” You manage to get the sentence out through gritted teeth, but it sounds strained. Anyone would agree that it sounds like you are trying your best to contain yourself, though it’s obviously a task you are struggling with. He says nothing, and his body gives nothing away, so you speak again. He knew exactly what was going to happen if he snuck up on you like that, and he probably didn’t even give it a second thought.

“I mean really, how fucking immature can you be? You really thought scaring me while I was holding a tub of dirty water was the best way to get my attention?” Your mouth starts to let words out before you can even think about what threatens to escape, and there is nothing you can really do but allow it to happen. 

Your lips are moving far too quickly for your brain to comprehend at this point, your anger completely taking over. As hard as it can be to hold yourself back from an argument sometimes, you always managed—but this was the last fucking straw. 

“And why the fuck are you even here? You obviously don’t have anything left to do.” Your voice is quickly raising but you doubt you could do anything about that even if you wanted to right now. Of course, it doesn’t matter how loud you get, you could probably scream right in his face, it never seems to affect him.

“Seemed lonely,” he says simply, shrugging and shifting off of the wall. He looks at your bewildered expression and decides it would somehow make it better if he elaborated, though you both know that he only does it to dig further under your skin. 

“Never got anyone around, s’ all. Too fuckin’ stubborn n’ self-absorbed to make any friends.” His tone is condescending and nonchalant at the same time, like he is both stating a fact and trying to beat you down. You continue to stare at him as he finishes. This is a whole new level, one you wouldn’t even have assumed Joel would ever jump to. 

You’ll admit it, he’s managed to find one of your most delicate insecurities, and he knows it, too.  Even before the outbreak, you always had trouble making friends, your anxiety and general mistrust always got in the way. Every time you thought you were getting close to someone, you would push them away. It was your biggest fear, being betrayed by someone close to you—a worse fear, you decided, than being alone. 

To this day, you have only ever let one person really get to know you. When you met Rachel during your first week in the QZ, she showed you a sort of open kindness that let you know she was a good one. You knew then, and you know now, that she would never do anything to hurt you in any way. 

In the time that you've gotten to know her, she’s become the best friend you’ve ever had, and the only one you wanted. But she is only one person after all, and she can’t spend all of her time with you, so you find yourself on your own most of the time—and of course, Joel Miller, of all people, would pick up on it. 

“You are such an asshole, Joel,” you spew out after a moment. “And you have the audacity to call me lonely?” You can't help the tears that start to blur your vision, so you ignore them as you continue to rant, your hands now flying wildly. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is starting to grow to the point where you feel like it will swallow you whole. 

“You act like you’re so much fucking better than me! Who do you have?” Through your watering eyes, you can see the way Joel flinches slightly, and as much as it pleases you that you seem to have finally found a soft spot, it also eggs you on. You recognize it and think to yourself that he's a fucking idiot for pointing out the fact that you don’t have anyone in your corner when he has the same exact problem. 

“Huh? You say I'm alone, and maybe I am, but I’ve never seen you with anybody.” Your vision starts to clear as you feel hot tears begin to streak down your already-soaked cheeks, allowing you to see the deep scowl set on Joel's face. It almost scares you how mad he looks, but it's too late to back down now. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to say something, but it never comes. His silence only encourages you, and you know you probably seem immature as you continue to insult him, but it gets pushed to the back of your mind as you quickly realize it’s the least of your worries right now. Your tears are streaming freely at this point, your breaking point finally has been reached. The words are coming out faster than you care to stop them. 

“You have no fucking friends, Joel,” you spit out. That one definitely struck a nerve, and you watch as he takes a step towards you, his face giving you a warning expression as if he already knows what you are going to say next. You know his history, and you know it's a bad idea, you know it is, but you say it anyway.

“You have no friends…” You pause, your brain subconsciously trying to talk you out of what you’re about to do. Of course, you don't listen. “...and you have no fucking famil-” you get cut off as Joels hand makes contact with your throat, his grip crushing your windpipe as he pushes you back until you hit the wall and lifts you onto your toes so you are looking into his rage-filled eyes.

He says nothing for a moment as he lets you struggle in his firm grasp, watching you writhe and try to gulp in air. The panic that courses through your body is almost paralyzing, sending a hot flash throughout your entire body as your brain catches up with what's happening. 

You find yourself panicking even more when you realize that fear isn’t the only thing your senses seem to be overwhelmed with as his hand tightens around your neck. The wetness beginning to gather in your panties is suddenly the biggest problem you are faced with, an unwelcome feeling or arousal suddenly making itself known. 

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion as you feel your hands start to claw at the one wrapped around your neck, no doubt leaving raised scratch marks across his wrist. The man doesn't wince or falter though, as you struggle to try to pry his hand away. You can feel your mouth opening and closing, though you’re unsure of what you are trying to say. You suspect it's something along the lines of “Please”, but no sound comes out. 

Eventually, after you realize that nothing is going to come from your struggle, you let your body fall limp, the only movement left is the tears that still crawl tauntingly down your cheeks. Though some of them may still be from the anger that had overcome you before you felt his large palm on your throat, most of them are now evidence of your shame. 

Logically, you reason that there is no way for him to know what kind of response his aggressive actions pulled from you, but you can't help but feel like somehow, he can see right through you. 

Upon seeing you submit, Joel lifts you more until you are close enough to feel his hot breath fan across your face. He loosens his grip enough so that you are allowed to catch a breath, but not enough for you to fall away from him. He starts to lower his arm, letting your feet hit the ground, but he leans his body down with your own so that his face stays less than an inch away from your own the entire time. 

You know that realistically, he only had you in the air for a few seconds, but it felt like an hour with the fear—and unexpected lust—that was coursing through your veins. Though you are still trembling with the silent threat he delivered, you seem to be able to calm down a little as his hand loosens and slides around to the back of your neck, only holding you in place. 

You stare into his eyes because you have nowhere else to look, and are almost surprised to see the array of emotions on display. You see anger, impatience, annoyance, a hint of restraint, but the one that seems to dominate them all is the one that takes you aback the most. You see in his eyes, what must be a reflection of your own. 

Your mouth drops open again as you begin to place the look of longing and desire that burns in Joel's gaze as he stares you down, his mouth just centimeters from your own. You take a chance and allow yourself to look down at the way his lips almost brush yours, his own mouth parted as you both try to calm your ragged breathing. 

You have no idea why you suddenly feel this way—well, you do, you just refuse to admit it. You hate his fucking guts because he is the only man that has made you feel something since before the outbreak. Every time you look at him, it is evidence that you are still capable of letting your guard down, that you are still weak. 

You promised yourself the first time you understood what the potential problem with Joel Miller could be, that you wouldn’t allow it to become one. But this god-damned man makes it so fucking hard to keep that in check when he is staring at you like he wants to ruin you. 

You feel his hand tighten around you again, and you snap your eyes back up to his, suddenly blushing as you realize that you have been staring at his lips for far too long. For once, you are at a loss for words, you have no idea what to say that might save your ass from looking like you had been doing exactly what you had. Thankfully, you don't have to wonder for long because Joel cuts right back to the chase, seemingly shaking himself out of his own thoughts as he speaks again. 

“You want to try that again, little girl?” Fuck. How the fuck are you supposed to ignore the pit forming in your stomach when he says shit like that? You are too caught up in thinking of a response to answer him immediately, and he clearly doesn’t appreciate that as he shifts his position, pushing you back further into the wall behind you. 

When he moves, you realize that one of his legs is slotted between your own, and your eyes widen as you feel how close his thigh is to your center—one little movement and you will give yourself away. You must be dripping at this point, and if he's not close enough to feel the heat coming off your cunt from where he stands right now, he will be if he moves any closer. 

Steeling yourself, you opt not to speak as you bring your hands back up to grasp at his wrist again. Joel watches as you struggle to get a grip before he growls and uses his free hand to grab both of yours and place them on the wall above your head. Your eyes somehow widen even more and you want to shrivel up into a ball as you feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

You need to move now. You can't let this man see what he does to you, the way your body reacts to the way he so easily dominates you. You know that you have no time to plan anything out, so you do the first thing that comes to mind—you try to tug your hands out of his grip and you lunge to the side. 

You’re not sure why you even attempt it, you know that it won't get you anywhere, but you do it anyway. Of course, he overpowers you once again, and nothing changes but his grip, both of his hands tightening as he leans in even closer to you. The new position causes his thigh to crush into your throbbing clit, and before you can stop it, a whimper breaks through your lips.

Nothing is said for a moment as you stare at Joel with shame, and him at you with a newfound amusement. You can feel yourself melting on the spot, and you let your head hang in humiliation, your eyes trained on the ground next to Joel, who is now smirking as he stares back at you. You feel his thigh crush into you again, deliberately this time, and you have to bite your lip and close your eyes in concentration so as to not give away any more sounds. 

You hear Joel chuckle darkly above you, and the sound goes straight to your pussy. How are you supposed to resist this man when he sounds like that, when the rough denim of his jeans is rubbing you in all the right places as he begins to rock his thigh back and forth, making you bite your lip even harder. The hand on your neck suddenly releases its grip and you feel his thumb come to your mouth, tugging your bottom lip until it falls away from the punishing bite of your teeth. 

“C’mon now, princess,” you hear Joel speak again and you can't help but moan softly as he sets his hand on your hip, starting to guide you across his firm thigh. 

“You’ve given yourself away now, you ain’t gonna get outta this one.” His tone is taunting as he presses down on your hip, bringing you down harder against him. 

The pressure on your clit is almost overwhelming with pleasure, and you find yourself moving on your own, beginning to chase the orgasm that has suddenly come within your grasp. You can’t help it with the way your wet jeans rub you just right and the firmness of his thigh is just enough to push the seam of them onto all the right places.

“F-fuck you, Miller,” you say, opening your eyes and bringing your head back up to look into his eyes, hoping the anger is apparent in yours. He stares at you for a moment before he speaks again. 

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before he moves his hand down to where your cunt meets his thigh, and places his thumb right on your clit, rubbing quick circles. The touch is all you need to send you over the edge, becoming a moaning mess under Joel’s body. He’s right of course, you want him to fucking ruin you. God, you hate it when he’s right. 

He continues the circles on your clit as you come down from your high, riding you through it. When you are finally able to catch your breath, you look him in the eye to find him staring right back at you. His gaze is intense and full of want. 

“You want me to quit, darlin?” You can tell by the way he says it, that he asks genuinely. He would stop if you said the word. As much as you want to hate him, you know that he is respectful enough that he wouldn’t do anything to that effect without your consent.

Joel may be an asshole, but he would never put his hands on a woman in that sense if she showed any sign of resistance. Though he didn’t seem to have a problem with wrapping his palm around your throat. 

“I can give you more, all you have to do is ask,” Joel says after you don't answer him. His gaze is hungry as he waits for your consent, his eyes slowly tracing up and down your body, taking you in. When he looks back to your face, you nod slowly, watching as his already blown-out pupils seem to take over his irises. 

“I'm gonna need to hear you say it, darlin,” he says as he brings his chin up to the side of your head, nibbling your earlobe and making you shiver. 

“P-please, Joel,” you say, giving up the act. You know you want him, he knows you want him, and now you know he wants you, too. 

“I need you, please.” At your signal, he doesn't wait any longer as he starts to pull you away from the wall, his free hand traveling back to the back of your neck, the other still grasping your wrists. Before you can figure out where he’s moving you to, your chest slams onto one of the tables, the force almost enough to knock the wind out of you. You had expected him to be rough, but not this rough… not that you mind. He’s clearly done with being gentle with you now that he has free reign.

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, throwing him a look over your shoulder as much as you can with your neck still being pinned down. 

“You fucking mind?” You hear Joel chuckle behind you and feel him step closer to you, pressing himself against your ass and leaning over so that his chest is flush with your back. 

“Nope, not at all.” His breath tickles your ear as he whispers into it. 

“Now I'd be quiet if I were you, girl,” he tells you, his tone almost threatening. “Unless you want to wake the whole town, of course, cause now that I’ve started, I ain't gonna stop.” Your eyes widen and a whimper falls from your lips as he finishes his threat and pushes his top half off of you. 

“Maybe you’d like that, huh, little girl?” he pauses his sentence to rip your pants and panties down in one fluid motion, making you cry out.

“Let the whole town watch me fuck you, show everyone who you belong to, who this cunt belongs to.” He knows you too fucking well, knows that you’re thinking about it now, salivating over the thought of someone walking in on you like this, your pants around your ankles, him, balls deep inside of you, taking what he wants. 

“Dirty little girl, out here whorin’ herself out to me so quick. Slut’s just damn desperate for some good fuckin’ cock.”

You hear a sharp zip from somewhere behind you and you struggle out of instinct, pushing up on the hand holding you down. He ignores your protest and slams himself into you, sheathing himself in one fluid motion, giving you no warm-up or time to adjust. 

You expected him to be big, but you weren't expecting this. He's fucking huge, stretching you out and reaching depths you didn't even know existed. You scream out at the sudden burning intrusion and Joel moves the hand that isn't on your neck to your mouth, silencing you halfway through the outburst. 

The tears that fall from your eyes catch on the palm of his hand as he brings his cock almost all the way out before slamming himself back in, setting a brutal pace. 

“Tha’s alright baby, Ima take good care of you,” Joel assures you through gritted teeth. “Make you feel real good creamin’ all over my fat cock.”

Your fingernails scrape the surface of the table once he releases your hands, scrambling for purchase as Joel slams into you without remorse. You’re almost surprised at how quickly you feel the knot in your stomach start to build back up, the pain promptly turning to pleasure as Joel brutally shoves his cock into your already-sore pussy. 

The sounds of Joel's grunts, your muffled sobs, and the squelching of your cunt quickly fill the room, you would be embarrassed if you weren’t so cock-drunk on Joel. Right now, the only thing you can focus on is the way the head of his dick slams into your G-spot with every harsh thrust. 

The way his dick drags against your walls makes you clench with every swift pass. That combined with the way his hips slap against your ass might just be the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

Your body begins to go slack, your stomach and chest pressing harder into the table, you barely even register Joel's hand being removed from your mouth until you hear your unfiltered moans break through. 

“Jus’ wait one second, darlin,” Joel's voice is strained as he talks. You try to nod back at him but find that it's a bit hard when your bones have melted. His pace never falters as he reaches down to where he pulled his pants down just enough to free his thick cock and heavy balls. 

When his hand finds the open buckle of his belt, he tugs it through the loops and uses the edge of the table to fold it once before bringing it to your lips, pushing it toward you until you bite down on it. 

He tells you something, by his tone it sounded like a command, but you can’t seem to make out the request.  If you weren’t drooling before, you certainly are now with the taste of leather on your tongue. Joel smirks to himself as your moans quiet down with the help of the belt. 

“There ya go, such a good girl holdin’ on t’ that for me,” he runs his fingers through your hair as you keen at his praise. He can feel your cunt tighten around him as your second orgasm approaches once again and he has to steel himself so as not to come right then and there like some teenager. Instead, he brings his hand down to touch your clit again, not with his thumb, but with his middle three fingers, rubbing up and down, immediately setting a furious pace. 

The new sensation combined with the pistoning of his hips pushes you over the edge and you have to bite down on the belt so you don't scream as you receive the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had. It's like nothing you’ve ever felt before, the white-hot pleasure almost blinding you, and the force of it almost pushing him out of your cunt. 

You sob as you listen to Joel talk you through it, telling you how good you're doing for him, how you were made for him to stuff his cock into. His pace never falters as you gush around him, but he does push himself further into you so as to not be forced out of you. 

The strength of his thrust is enough to surge you forward, the table screeching on the concrete floor below you as it too is moved forward slightly. After you come down completely from your high, he grasps your hands and tugs them behind your back for leverage, fucking down into you to chase his own pleasure. 

“Goddamn, darlin, tight, young, little cunt, squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me.” His dirty words are almost humiliating as he throws them out, but you love every moment of it, the way you clench around his cock giving you away quickly. 

“Oh, you like that, little slut?” he almost sounds surprised as he continues rambling. 

“Filthy little thing, lettin’ some old man stuff his cock into your sweet little pussy. ‘F you didn’t take dick so good I would think you’d be a damn virgin.” You whine beneath him as much as you can with the leather between your teeth, a shameless request for him to keep talking. 

“Yeah, you like that, huh, little girl?” He grants your wish, spewing more filthy comments every few thrusts. “Like bein’ told what a f-fuckin’ whore you are f’ me?” You keep, drooling on the belt trapped between your teeth.

Suddenly, you feel the large hand that was pinning your neck disappear, only to reappear on your ass, making your eyes widen as Joel quickly slides to your other hole, his thumb right above the tight ring of muscle. 

Usually, you would want to struggle, but for some reason, the thought of Joel taking you there is something you find yourself wanting. He feels you squeeze around him again and he chuckles at your desperation. 

“Now, you’re just full of surprises, ain't ya, princess?” He says, his voice even more strangled than it was before. It almost sounds like it should be painful for him to talk. He stops talking for a moment to allow his saliva to drip down and slide down your ass crack. 

“You’d let me fuck you here, wouldn't you, little girl?” Fuck this man, you both know the answer to that. 

“Put my dick in this pretty little ass?” When you don't object, you feel him spit on top of his thumb again before pushing it into you. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl as he slides his thumb into you until he can’t anymore. The intrusion triggers your third orgasm, your body melting into the table as you press back into him. It’s less intense than the first two, but you are still fully consumed by the waves of pleasure that wash over you.

If you had been standing, you would have fallen to your knees. You’ve never felt so full in your life, the feeling almost overwhelming as he leans on top of you again, continuing to whisper filth into your ear. You can tell he’s getting close by the way he lets go of your wrists and tangles his fingers into your hair, slamming himself somehow even deeper inside of you.  

“Tell me who these fuckin’ holes belong to, princess,” he spews out through gritted teeth, pulling the belt away from your mouth and throwing it somewhere off to the side. 

“Who makes you feel good, makes these little holes feel good?” When you don't answer immediately, your unleashed moans and whimpers making it almost impossible, he uses the hand that’s not fingering your ass to deliver a sharp slap to your left cheek. 

“Fuck, fuck Joel it’s you,” you practically sob as you tell him what he wants to hear, what you want him to hear. 

“T-these holes are yours Joel, you make them feel so good, they belong to you, all yours,” you cry out frantically. Satisfied with your response, he rubs over the red spot on your skin before returning his hand to your neck. 

“That's right,” he praises you softly and you soak up every word. “Such a good fuckin’ girl, knowin’ who she belongs to.” He thrusts into you half a dozen more times before his pace finally starts to falter. 

“W-where do you want me, sweet thing?” As he asks you, all you can think is “fuck this man for being respectful with shit like that.”  If he hadn’t asked, you probably would have shoved him away, but instead, you make another stupid decision—why the fuck not at this point? 

“I-inside, Joel, inside me, oh my god, fucking c-come inside me,” you’re only slightly aware of how desperate you sound as you beg for his cum, but again, you can’t seem to find it in you to care. You let your cheek rest on the cool surface of the table and close your eyes, too exhausted to hold yourself up any longer. 

You hear Joel groan and start to say something above you, but he cuts himself off as he releases inside you with a strangled moan, almost like he is biting down on his lip so as not to shout. 

A stream of curses laced with your name spills from his lips as he twitches and pulses inside you. The feeling of his hot cum spilling into you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It seems like forever before he stills, practically collapsing on top of you, his cum dripping around his softening cock and down your thighs. 

Despite his weight on top of you, you think you could probably manage to fall asleep there. Your body has never felt so spent and tired, every muscle sore in one way or another. Joel waits only a minute before lifting himself off of you, and you attempt to lift your head to follow his movement, only for your cheek to be gently pressed back onto the table by his palm. 

“Jus' hold on a second, princess.” His tone is softer than you’ve ever heard it, and it makes your heart warm, but you can't resist the perfect opportunity to tease him as it presents itself. 

“You’re happier after you get your dick wet,” you say with a small smile as you follow his request, letting your eyes close as you bask in the feeling of euphoria that’s taken over your body. 

At your snippy comment, you expect him to scold you, or maybe to swat your behind, which is still presented for him. What you don’t expect is to feel his tongue on your spent cunt. Your body jolts and your eyes snap open at the unexpected feeling, your reflexes causing you to try to sit up again, only to be pushed down by Joel’s hand on your lower back. 

“I said to wait a second, darlin’,” he says as he pulls away from you, his tone more stern now. He waits until you nod your head to return to your pussy, dipping into your hole and lapping up your mixed release. You shudder as his tongue grazes your overstimulated clit, but do your best to hold still for him. 

After he seems to have gotten his fill, you feel him pull away again and stand up to lean over you. His hand suddenly grabs your chin, making you twist your neck slightly so that you are looking up at him. He keeps his mouth shut as he brings it to his own before squeezing your cheeks, making you open your lips, and drops his jaw open. 

You gasp as you feel the combination of his spit and your cum mixed with his own slowly spill onto your tongue. He keeps his eyes open and locked onto yours as he keeps your lips together and lets the liquid drip into your mouth. When he pulls away, he replaces his lips with his hand, forcing your mouth shut. 

“Swallow,” he commands. You obey without a second thought and let the substance slip down your throat. He smiles when he's sure you’re done and moves his hand, motioning for you to open up. You do, and he smirks as he sees every drop gone. 

“Good girl,” he mutters as he lays back down on top of you, and you let your body rest on the table again, enjoying the feel of his body on top of yours. As the two of you stay there, catching your breath, you feel Joel's chest start to vibrate against your back in silent laughter. You furrow your brows and attempt to stand and roll him off you, but only succeed in the latter, your legs failing as if they were made of jello. 

Joel stands back and tucks himself back into his jeans as you slump back down on the table, temporarily accepting defeat. You see him take a seat in the chair next to you out of the corner of your eye, his chest still rattling the slightest bit. 

“What the fuck do you find so funny, bastard?” You slur your words, your tone is a lot less fierce than you had wanted it to be. He looks at you before answering, and you feel your both heart and your cunt clench at the almost adoring look in his eyes as he meets your gaze. Maybe the asshole will try to be decent for a moment, his expression promising. 

“Looks like your gonna have t’ scrub this table again, princess,” he says, his tone toeing the line of playful. You feel your lips tug up into a smile as you recognize the fact that this is probably Joel being friendly. Or at the very least, he’s not at your throat at the moment—in a bad way anyway—so you’ll take it. Upon seeing your smile, he sits back further and allows himself a small smile of his own as he continues to watch you sink into the polished wood beneath you.

“Fuck you, Miller,” you say. You erupt into a quiet yet delirious fit of exhausted giggles, Joel following soon after with his own gentle chuckle. 

“Might have t’ give me a second for that, princess.”

*****

Pt. 2 here

[irregularityregularity]

just watched the wild robot a second time and holy shit i love this movie

still find it wild(pun intended) we got two insane golden quality robot movies in one week

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

As I’m working on something about Astarion’s quote “Lamentable is the autumn picker content with plums.” I’m also gathering some thoughts on it that I wanted to share.

First, the meaning. The plums being a summer harvest, the ones that remain in autumn are left-overs, spoiled, of lower quality than the ones picked fresh in their prime. So an autumn picker content with plums would be someone settling for less. There are many other fruits that have their prime harvest in autumn, and our picker is not any picker but an autumn one. Why they are not picking what they should is beyond the point, what is lamentable is not their situation but that they become content with scrap.

I find that it ties nicely with Astarion’s hardships as Cazador’s slave. Astarion has always been a man of ambition, an autumn picker.  - Autumn is also considered in my country a time of richness (time of harvesting many cultures and crops, making wine, and food for storing over winter, of enjoying the fruits/results of hard work over the year) - Astarion was cut young from enjoying his life, was turned a vampire and put to hunt then denied the fruits of his work, and food in general. Not only was he not allowed to bite his victims or anyone else, but he was put through a torture ritual of being invited to dinner and being served putrid rats if agreeing or flayed if he refused. 

Now, the reason why Astarion would sew this quote on his clothes. I think it was done as a reminder to not give up, NOT as a wallowing in self-pity. In his situation, it would be normal to have moments where it would feel too much to bear and to give up on fighting, or hoping for anything to change, of giving in to acceptance of the situation. People change in time, especially under trauma. Yes, his situation was terrible and pitiful, as he said - pure SHIT. And he deserves better. - yet what Astarion would find truly lamentable was not his situation, but if he ever gave in to settle for it as his fate. I think he sewed the quote to have something to remind himself of this in his hardest moments, to remind himself of who he is. He tried his hardest for 200 years to hold on to his identity, to the fragments of his persona, to not lose any more of himself. 

I think it's a quote about ambition, identity, humility and resistance. It is a quote about Astarion, his story, his beliefs, ambitions, suffering and fight, about his view on the world and in regards to himself. It is a quote that says so much with just a few, carefully picked words (pun intended) and I love it very much!

[mudgazing]

TF141 HOME DECOR HC'S

Ghost: 

(I like to think that Soap and Ghost are roomies, so they compromise on a lot of their flats’ decor) 

His bedroom though? Dark colors for the win

Charcoal gray sheets and comforter

Considered painting the walls gray but decided 

Wanted skeleton sheets as a joke (not), but couldn’t find one to fit his bed so he settled with a decorative throw 

100% has a window that he only opens to peek at whatever bullshit’s going on in the street

Both of them have a display cabinet they share

 Simon’s side is full of his fave knives and “chest candy” (medals) neatly lined up 

Soap: 

Johnny’s side of the display cabinet has old campaign polaroids and some silly little souvenirs 

Light blue walls and tartan sheets for sure 

Messy organized, but it works 

Definitely has a clothes chair and to-do lists tacked onto a corkboard 

Simon can’t wrap his head around his method of organization. Stopped asking questions a loooong time ago

Stacks of used and unused sketchbooks on the nightstand  

Has a minifridge so he can get a ‘nip in the night’

Ghost jokes about swaddling him like a baby and giving him liquor to nurse on (no pun intended) 

Has a photo of Graves he throws darts at as stress relief. He’s good, but not as good as Ghost so there are a couple tiny dents on the walls 

Gaz: 

The award for coziest bachelor pad goes to … 

Flat smells GOOD. Like that gentle, fresh laundry smell

Type of guy who has a spreadsheet tracking all of the furniture he wants to buy off FB marketplace (Price put him on) 

Sad that he can never own plants since he’s away often 

Has a few things mostly for ‘easy maintenance’ (out of sight, out of mind) 

Makes sure these few things look and feel high quality. Won’t settle for less 

Blue sheets with tiny mid blue stripes 

Ghost and Soap don’t understand why he owns art but agree it looks neat 

Definitely has a balcony with a small chair specifically for smoking and thinking 

Only things he has on his nightstand are a lamp, metal cigarette holder and matching ashtray Price gifted him

Price: 

This man has a house … and that house is his baby 

Especially the front yard. Do NOT fuck with his front yard 

Subconsciously anti-lawn and has a beautiful low maintenance garden

Has beef with his neighbors (cause of said garden). Shoots the shit about them with Gaz on his front porch 

 Shed for all his handy shit. If Gaz picks up some furniture for his crib he will turn it into ‘father-son bonding time’

The interior? Rustic and neutral, with modern touches ... nice n' warm

Mid century modern enthusiast. Fell down that rabbit hole once he joined Pinterest and never came back out. This man has probably had Pinterest since it's inception -- his username is probably his first and last name XD

Burgundy comforter vibes. One of those soft, smooth quilted ones. 

His office’s desk is his prized possession. It's one of the fancy wooden ones with the mini built-in drawers on top. Keeps his best cigars along with stationary there 

Photos of his boys (sons) of course

 Definitely has a bankers’ lamp 

[unclefathersantateddy]

Seeing the responses to @drawthethingdoppelganger 's cannibal arc poll, has definitely helped me improve the fresh meat lore. It's giving creative juices lol! I'm gonna use the community's Quality Standards to up the freshmeat au content quality!

Some of the most prevalent ideas I've seen:

Keeping the Family Love integrity before all else. Bob loves his family, the family loves each other SO MUCH no matter what. Nothing gets in the way of that, not the human meat, not the back alley business, nada.

The family remain expressive and musical. This one I'm excited to play around with, I have ideas that Bob wasn't rly a singer to begin with, but between Linda, Gene, and the general Sweeney Todd vibe, he gets into it, REALLY into it. They all do (even Louis/e). Many of you said you loved the contrast of the dark themes but with family/love- oriented songs!

Finding a healthy balance for the arc. Many of you said you didn't care for the "being edgy for edge sake" element of the cannibal arc, and I would agree with that! I've seen some fresh meat posts of Gene wanting to EAT Alex?? This isn't an idea I'll be rolling with. For me it's a bit cheap and crass like "ah the cannibal is so obsessed with eating humans so much that he wants to eat his best friend". Not really a plot, y'know? So I'll be working on creating a more nuanced Dietary framework to prevent the au from being kitsch or tasteless! If any cannibal wants to eat a person there will be actual reasoning for it, not just because these characters are associated in canon.

Painting healthy relationships besides the toxic. Many of you said you still want the Belchers to have loved ones (family/friends) despite their cannibalism, and I LOVE this idea!! Whilst I do like to add a toxic touch to this au, I also don't want to pigeon-hole ANY character. I'd like to keep each individual fluid and organic, opposed to one-dimensional. (E.g. Courtney may still have an on/off dynamic with Gene despite the cannibalism - does she know? Does she not? Does she even care???)

I started neglecting the fresh meat au bc it started to feel stale, but seeing DT's post has really helped me want to dive back into it!! Very exciting times AAAAAAA!!!

However, I'm not a Writer™ (I can write scientific journals, but not English Fiction) therefore, if any fanfic writer would like to help me flesh out my ideas (pun not intended) that'd be greatly appreciated!!

I'd like to write more on FM!teddy but my experience as a plus-size person was not a healthy/supported one, therefore idk how to write a fat character in a healthy /non-fatphobic way as that was never the experience I received. Therefore, if there are any plus-sized users that would like to help me write a healthy, loved, non-fatphobic, fat character (starting that Good fat representation), please msg me!

A small thanks to DT for posting the primo content😩👌 they always come thru with the good shit

[oddfoxstudio]

ATTENTION ALL CAPTAIN LASERHAWK FANS I HAVE JUST NOTICED TWO VERY,VERY,VERY,BIG THINGS I'VE SEEN NO ONE TALK ABOUT IN THE S1 FINALE!

Also,b4 I forget,

!!SPOILERS FOR S1 EP6 OF CAPTAIN LASERHAWK A BLOOD DRAGON REMIX!!!!CLICK OFF NOW TO AVOID GETTING SPOILED!!!!!!

Now,with that out of the way,I would like to direct(pun intended) everyone's attention towards the scene where Ramon slaughters the board of directors. Now we all know that he did almost kill all of them. All but one. The Director who is represented with the odd looking E.

Absolutely,we're all losing our shot over who this is. Did they send Ramon the message to talk to Bullfrog? What will they do now that the rest of the board is dead? Will they be an upcoming enemy? Well,I'm here to tell you that the answer to that last question is YES.

'But Odd,how on Eden's racist capitalistic shit hole do you know this?'

Because we see this EXACT E LATER ON IN THE EPISODE. More specially,near the end where it's revealed that Sarah Fisher(or some part of her anyway)is a fully robotic spider-thingy. Now,when you watch the show for the first time,this reveal could distract you from the little details hidden away. I for one didn't even notice this until tonight,when I was watching the last episode out of boredom and because I love this show sososososo much! But now for the big reveal....

(I apologise for the lack of quality,this was taken from my tv cuz i don't have Netflix)

Yes,my dear reader,that is the exact as E as the missing director of board on the back of the Sarah Robots head.

Ladies,gentlemen,those between and out,Sarah Fisher was not only the warden of super maxx,but apart of the BOARD OF DIRECTORS!

But this only bring me to my next pint as,what this isn't Sarah at all? We know that the directors did some very much FUCKED up SHIT when they were alive. So,what if they didn't make Sarah a cyborg? What if,they transferred her consciousness into this robot? And what if she's not alone? It is here I present that this robot is kinda of similar to the mimic from fnaf. And if you don't know who the mimic is,they're a robot that was designed to look after a child,got beaten when the kid died and has learnt violent behaviours from humans resulting in them doing more horrendous violence back. Anyways,I propose that this robot was made to be a helper of sorts towards Eden-more specificallyin the military-only,the board couldn't be bothered programming an AI to be this robot. So what did they do? They transferred human minds into the robot to help it learn how to help when fighting. Only something went wrong. When Sarah's mind was transferred into the robot,it glitched out. It felt all of her agony,her pain,and her wondering if her dad was right. If she should rebel. The robot did what it was suppose to do too well. The robot ACTUALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE SARAH FISHER. Obviously,parts of the robot were aware they were not,but the robot was insanely good at pretending. I made this comparssion to the mimic bc what if this robot learnt not only to copy Sarah's behaviours,but others too? Perhaps even,someone from the board of directors? That is how this robot COULD be the same person who called Ramon. It MIMICKED THAT PERSON'S VOICE!!!!

Of course,that is only a theory,

An ODDLY INSANE THEORY!

See you on the flipside everyone!! God,I p8ve making fnaf references! Also Ill talk abt the other thing tmrw,this already took me over 30 MINUTES and phone is abt to die lol. Buh-byeeee!!!!!

[petitmimosa]

This or That Ask Game

Tagged by @alittlefrenchtree for an obscure reason. Should've made you guess what I was going to answer and you'd get one sugar per cup of tea for each one you got right.

Iced or hot coffee ☕

Why would you make me drink coffee in the first place? Why was coffee even discovered and who decided it was an acceptable beverage? If I have to make a choice, then iced and with a shit ton of sugar/chocolate/white chocolat syrup. You know Starbucks' white chocolate frappuccino? Very little coffee, lots of everything else.

Iced or hot tea 🍵

Why would you ice TEA? This is why the human race is doomed I'm telling you. Tea is to be served hot but never burnt so get that kettle off before it boils.

Lemonade or sweet tea 🍋

Sweet tea is an abomination. Why would you give me BAKING SODA TO DRINK? Ugh. Lemonade is alright if homemade by someone who's not addicted to sugar though.

Fruity or minty gum

Not allowed to chew gum anymore but I was more of a mint person. Fruity flavors were too chemical for my taste.

Pasta or potatoes

Niak. This is a hard one. Potatoes are fun and you can fry them and they're creatures of God but pastaaaaaa... Parmesan goes on pasta and for that reason only it gets my vote.

Olives or pickles

There are two things you need to know about me if we're gonna share food together: I will never, ever willingly consume olives and will have pickles with absolutely everything. The small ones though, cornichons. Not the gigantic ones people in America like to grow.

Rice or bread

Bread. Bread. BREAD.

Cookies or brownies

Brownies take too long to bake and you have more fun with cookies. Also, that's my cat's name and if I don't say cookies he will know tonight when I get home and he will bite me to punish me.

Handwritten or phone reminders-

That notes app is somewhere on my phone because I can't uninstall it. But I hate my handwriting with a passion so I just remember everything since I have an excellent memory.

Zip-up or pullover hoodie

I hate zip-ups, I look like a whale in them. And hoodies are COZYYYY.

Jeans or sweatpants

I look even more like a whale in sweatpants so I'll have to say jeans. But when I'm home I'm just wearing pjs.

Flip flops/thongs or slides

Both are evil so they can crawl back to where they belong. I'll sleep with socks (even thin) all year long. I'll take them off when we reach 40°.

Paperback or ebook

I use my kindle before bed but paperback all the way when you want to spend hours reading.

Enemies to lovers or FWB to lovers

Enemies to lovers all the way. The hatred, the tension, the angst, the oh, oh maybe I was wrong? the messy feelings, GIVE IT TO ME I'M READY.

One bed or fake dating

That one bed trope has been alive way too long and needs to be put to rest, pun very much intended.

Hurt/comfort or whump

Hurt/comfort. I'm all for angst but the heavy hurt usually deals with atrocities and, nope.

Mutual pining or amnesia

Amnesia! That's the kind of angst I like.

Canon compliant or AU

It depends on the ship. I usually prefer canon but there are some excellent AUs out there.

Soulmate or Sports AU

My issue with sports AU is that it's almost always about the characters in the sports world rather than the chosen sport itself. I end up frustrated with how poorly depicted the sport is or how irrelevant it is to have them in this world in the first place all.the.time. Like okay they're figure skaters but why would you have them do 3 triple lutzes in one program when it's not a thing and yolo spins without telling me if it's a flying sit spin or a back camel?

Celebrity AU or Coffeeshop AU

I may have outgrown the coffeeshop AU, so, celebrity.

One shot or long fic

Quality over quantity. Which isn't an answer but :D

Anyone who wants to answer this, have at it!

[elwynnie101]

Going back on my S2xE8 opinions oopsie

Spoilers again!!

Still think I could have been okay with Izzys' death if it was executed better. I honestly think Lucius and Petes' wedding could have been pushed for season 3 (because imagine it at Ed and Stedes' Inn where they could have gone full out and Izzy could in spirit (no pun intended) have been there with them. Like I was a little shocked of how non-extravagant their wedding was like this is Lucius's wedding??) and then with the cute moment of Ed thinking of marrying Stede himself, they would have been in their little inn and the life they built for themselves, where they feel safe.

Like if just the time that was taken to do Lucius and Petes' wedding was just used to let Ed at the very least grieve, because despite what Izzy had done to him, they were family!! And then the rest of the crew could have seen Ed at his most vulnerable moment and all mourned together, and THEN I would have personally been ready to move on.

I do think that no matter where this show was going, Izzy and Ed couldn't have co-existed together. Even with their own character development, Ed is still very vulnerable and working through just his and Stedes' relationship alone is difficult especially with Stede not communicating like he should (as someone who has never related to a character harder, fully get why he hasn't but please just TALK) and so Ed and Izzy trying to navigate how to go on with their fucked relationship I don't think could have ended them as friends.

Izzy coerced and forced Ed into this Blackbeard character and NEEDED that to backfire onto him (not saying he deserves a leg amputation but my god he was such a piece of shit to Ed)

Still not fully opposed to the idea of Izzy instead being left in critical condition instead of dead but after the initial shock and hurt of that last episode, and looking back on the rest of the season, yeah his death makes more sense (still not 100% content with it, I think it was cruel that Con only got told mid-season he wasn't coming back :( )

But it all just trickles down to pacing. I get that the last 3 episodes had to be hurried out because of HBO Max being a dick but just one more look over I think could've greatly benefited at least this finale.

(I am going to take a break from the OFMD community because it has become so negative and I understand why, I was in that headspace for a bit and that's why I am writing this because I wanted to correct my own opinion. I still adore this show and it means so much to me, but right now its all very overwhelming. Wish nothing but the best for everyone who worked on this show, you all did amazing with what you could, and I greatly appreciate what this show has done for me, and how lovely for 99% of the time this community has been :3 I'm not angry anymore I have honestly accepted this ending and I REALLY want a season 3, with hopefully 10 episodes so we can see the quality of writing we known these people can do, and I hope I haven't come across as too negative or mean)

[video-game-birds-tournament]

Round 6 - Third Place

Propaganda under the cut

Gustav

he's soooo sillay ngl. ((THIS MAY CONTAIN SPIRITFARER SPOILERS!!!)) aristocrat art curator who just wants to make an epic exhibit. When he was alive, he was wheelchair-bound and often complained about how people pitied him for his disability. If anyone's wondering what he had, he had multiple sclerosis. This bitch (affectionate) loves exotic foods and HATES fried food n sugary shit. He prob hates the USA ngl - this might just be me projecting but, he hates fried food cuz the scent sticks to him- autism, anyone? hm? perchance. Throughout his time on your boat, he shares with you his life (or death) philosophy. I think it's pretty cool, soo ima dump it all here. <3. Pretty much it's like...life is meaningless and random and only has meaning based on what you decide for yourself. He considers art to be the ultimate expression of human's search for meaning and therefore he believes it should be thoroughly preserved. Neat, right? He shares some of this with you on his way to the Everdoor. His spirit flower is a red poppy, representing remembrance and hope. Inspiring, eh?

i dont know this guy but seeing his sprites, he looks very polite and cool (he plays violin and drinks tea? thats pretty neat)

Storm

I mean, someone needs to get knocked out in round one

(with Jet and Storm, when asked if iconic) (I'd say yes. At least in the Riders trilogy. They're Team Sonic's main foils in those games (aside from Eggman, of course).)

(with Jet and Storm) Since most of the birds we have on this list are arrogant peacocks (pun intended), here's a whole trio of them! But at least these three have the abilities to back up their preening.

Berdly

he's a smug lil shit and he sucks so much that it wraps around and almost becomes charming? kinda?

nerd. *shoves him in a locker*

He has good character development, where he comes to terms with his own flaws and moving forward as a better person and standing up against the Queen. I also think his theme is pretty cool and he shows some pretty heroic qualities in the Snowgrave route.

[drelldreams]

Mass Effect Lore: Common technologies in the 2180's (Part 1: Omnitool)

This post is both a collection of canon technologies in the Mass Effect universe, and personal headcanon which may be borrowing common concepts from sci fi.

Part 1 will be dedicated to solely the omnitool, because omnitools provide the user with such a huge amount of features that they deserve their own post.

What is an omnitool?

The omnitool is a microchip implanted underneath the skin which upon activation, can project a holographic screen as well as a holographic keyboard to navigate said screen. However, omnitools can also be navigated via voice demands. Omnitools provide a variety of functions and can do pretty much anything that a computer, smart watch, phone, calculator or tablet could do.

Omnitool activation could be done vocally via a spoken password or in a tactile manner such as touching one‘s forearm in a certain rhythm and pattern.

Microfabricators can generate objects out of microplastic particles, but it isn‘t possible for an object to generate if the omnitool consists merely an implant under the skin. (I don‘t see how that‘s possible without space magic..)

Therefore an additional bracelet has to be worn, which contains the microparticles out of which an object can be forged.

The omnitool can be synced with the translator implant, updating the translator with new translation software.

What can the omnitool do?

Canon:

Allows communication via voice calls, video calls, voice messages and text messages

Provides intranet, internet and extranet access

Allows upload and download of data

Can be used for videography and photography

Can be used to play music

Can provide a flashlight

Provides a wide array of general programs, calendars, navigation programs and maps, note apps, alarms, games and more

Can be used for hacking, coding and decryption

Special programs can be used to utilize the microfabricator to form objects; if the bracelet is charged with certain particles it can also be used to fire particles which are commonly used for combat (incinerate or cryo blast function, for instance)

But that‘s the boring shit. That‘s what phones, tablets and computers can do nowadays, and the combat stuff is covered in the game.

Here‘s my headcanons added to it.

What special functions can an omnitool have?

It can fire fire extinguishing particles. (No pun intended) Meaning that little bracelet actually could serve as a fire extinguisher, using microparticles to extinguish fire.

The microfabricator should be able to forge any tool, such as a screwdiver out of microplastic. That explains why quarians seem to be able to fix things with just their omnitool. No need to take a toolbox with you when you‘ve got your omnitool.

Omnitools should be able to do anything that an advanced calculator can, meaning omnitool calculators provide more functions than a regular phone or tablet calculator. Basically that chip has a build in college level calculator.

Communication aid programs coupled with visors or smart lenses can scan and analyze the body language and facial expressions of conversation partners, listing likely interpretations for those who struggle to read other species.

More advanced omnitool models should be able to aid you with repairs, as well. Take a scan of a broken piece of tech and the omnitool might come up with a diagnostic of it and giving suggestions how to fix it. That would explain why everyone in ME seems so tech savvy - actually the omnitool just provides a ton of help.

Omnitools are capable of measuring pulse, heart rate, blood oxygen, blood sugar levels and blood pressure. They also can monitor sleep quality and duration. Steps taken during the day and stability of walking. Basically they have all the functions of a smart watch.

Just like you can fire a neural shock to disable someone, you can fire a targeted shock in form of a heart defibrillator to revive someone.

Other medical programs provide build in fever thermometer scanners.

Omnitool scans using medical scanners can also provide diagnostic aid, scanning for abnormalities and injuries. The most advanced models are capable of scanning broken bones, essentially having the function of x ray scans.

Certain programs give the user the ability to stimulate the vagus nerve to aid against stress or depression. If nerve stim programs for sexual stimulation are a thing, then this should be within the realms of possibility too. It is possible that this might require a piece of hardware to be synced to, however.

Omnitools also make great morning alarm clocks, being capable of emitting light that emulates a sunrise filling the entire room to wake up a person. The vital scanner takes note of your awakening, which causes the alarm to slowly stop, dimming the lightning and turning down the music volume (if you’ve set a music alarm) slowly.

Some people also like receiving comfortable vibrations through their body through their omnitool to wake up from their sleep.

Other handy stuff that you could fabricate using the microplastic fabricator (aside from blades and tools): cutlery, bowls and cups, razor blades, hair brushes and combs, scissors. Yeah, you‘re gonna have kids in class who forgot to bring their scissors and cut out stuff with omnitool fabricated scissors.

[kindlythevoid]

Alrighty. I have seen the newest episode of the Percy Jackson Show. Thoughts (in no particular order):

Sad about not getting to see Charon ("Do I LOOK like a Centaur to you??? It's CARE-on.") in his Italian Silk Suits™ and complain about pay raises

CERBERUS!!

Hehehehe Annabeth shouting "don't make me come back there" to Procrustus hehehe

KRONOS NAME DROP

THE FOOTWEAR DROPPING INTO HELL!!!

Sad at not seeing so many football field-wide fields that are crowded with the lights off for the Asphodel fields vs Soooo cool how the trees are ppl and all the ppl are treees and all the trees in the background for ever and ever?? vs WHICH REGRET IS TYING ANNABETH THERE???

I FREAKING KNEW THAT WE WOULD LOSE THE FOURTH PEARL I KNEW IT vs. GROVER BBY NOOO

Seeing Poseidon (:/) vs. SALLY JACKSON FLASHBACK (HELL YESS????)

Seeing Hades (a lil sad that he isn't the first 10-ft tall actual god-looking god that Percy sees in the series like in the books, woulda been cool :/) vs. SEEING HADES!!!! (this man is Nico's FATHER!?!? he will actively keep and try to raise this child??? I love this man. What an absolute g. So funny?? And also seems to be the only one who cares about shit?? What a guy!!!)

CERBERUS!!!!

"Okie-doke." XD ???

Sad about no "Uncle Hades"

Happy about THE SET UP FOR THE BOSS FIGHT NEXT EPISODE!!!

Every single parallel?? I love???

No forgotten dreams in the Styx. :( I understand why, with the budgets and stuff, but no creepy Styx??? :( :(

OH WAIT DOES THE RUBBER BALL THROWN IN THE STYX COUNT AS A BROKEN DREAM??? (it does now; let me have this pls)

Grover and Percy quality time :)

"Would you like some pomegranate juice??? :D" Hades wtf XD

Speaking of Pomegranates, so happy we did not get to see Persephone in the middle of summer in the Underworld!! Let us see her when we see her!!

CERBERUS!!!!!

Annabeth lore drop in the show!!

Final Thoughts:

Hell yes, Hades (pun intended)

Good Doggo

I NEED to see Percy giving Gabe's number on live tv and promising everyone free appliances if they call the number!!

[keeperofthebox]

🎶😇🖕 for Cole plz :)

I have been watching Dragons Rising and I was so annoyed I had to wait so long to see Cole so thanks for giving me an opportunity to rant about him <3

🎶 Music - The movie gave him that DJ trait which was cool but I dont necessarily see Cole as the type to make music. Especially considering his relationship to the arts. I do see him as the one with the most varied and quality taste of all the ninja though. In my minds eye he has a CD wall in his room. I think he would listen to pretty much anything and genuinely enjoy himself but rock has to be his favorite. Pun lightly intended. I mean look at him that boy is made to go vibe out at a metal show.

He'd seriously like everything though. I see him liking whatever the Ninjago equivalents of ska and reggae are especially. Since music is so political - especially those two movements in particular - it's hard to say it'd be exactly the same in Ninjago world. but that type of thing would be up his alley.

I think he's the type to know a lot about music but not necessarily feel the need to mansplain it to people. With prompting though he'd say something super knowledgeable and nuanced about music production or something and whoever he's talking to would be like wtf. Where'd that come from. HAHA

😇 Religion - He's in a situation where any religious belief he would have would basically be reality. Like "yeah I believe this realm was settled for humans by a magical mixed species oni-dragon ninja from another dimension a zillion years ago and eventually he will have a successor in the form of a chosen one with the power of all 4 elements from his original dimension combined". Sounds crazy but that literally happened and he watched it happen. LMAO.

Cole is a chill type so I imagine he'd be open to others beliefs unless he felt they were immoral or unjust in some way. That's just being a hero and a ninja though. I'd have to go rewatch his reaction to finding out the Writers of Destiny are full of shit to have a more solid opinion about it.

🖕 Anger - Cole is more likely to get annoyed than angry especially after he's matured this much. He's the rock of the group so he's pretty emotionally stable. He gets irritable all the time with the others being idiots or with things not going his way but for actual deep anger I think it takes a lot for him to feel that way. It would probably be something like betrayal that would push him to that point.

If he was mad I figure he would fight his heart out about it. That's the thing with all the ninja like they're martial artist heroes so they have this shared trait of "I will fight to save others and maintain justice". For Cole especially anger is just fuel to attain that goal.