#rednecks in space

[talesfrommedinastation]

I think it depends on which legion they’re with.

41st Elite on Kashyyyk or Coruscant Guard probably were exposed to lots of spicy and wild food due to location. But others stuck just on rations? Probably not.

Wonder if someone snuck a bottle of space Tabasco in those boxes? Belters certainly would.

If Mandalorians are space rednecks, there’s a non zero chance they carry hot sauce from Space Ace Hardware with them.

PS- I’m totally blasting the ‘Oh Brother Where Art Thou?’ Soundtrack right now lol.

i am convinced that your average clone has the spice tolerance of a stereotypical caucasian person

like the entire clone army basically lived on ration bars which i really doubt had much flavor, just the necessary nutrients. the food on kamino didn’t look like it would’ve had much flavor either, much less spice

while yes obviously some clones would like spice/have a higher tolerance for it, i just don’t think that most would

[r0achinfested]

backwoods powell tn

[honor-cxde]

// has anyone ever been to like an rv camp ground. That's what I imagine the "ship yards" dreads hangs out in are like. Bots traveling, bots vacationing, bots who live on their ships full time and go from place to place like he does. Campfires and camp food and quiet.

What I'm saying is dreads friends who have ships should come join him for space-winnebago RV camp fun and lawn chair hours. That's all I'm saying-

[jacksdoodlesnshit]

-25 Those guys look familiar…

[simonepelicaneel]

Sus: "My Stuff's Better Anyway"

stop, you're killing me.

i've never laughed so hard.

[kuchipatch1]

yall have got to be more normal about Southern people and I'm not kidding. enough of the Sweet Home Alabama incest jokes, enough of the idea that all Southerners are bigots and rednecks, and enough of the idea that the South has bad food. shut up about "trailer trash" and our accents and our hobbies!

do yall know how fucking nauseating it is to hear people only bring up my state to make jokes about people in poverty and incestuous relationships? how much shame I feel that I wasn't born up north like the Good Queers and Good Leftists with all the Civilised Folk with actual houses instead of small cramped trailers that have paper thin walls that I know won't protect me in a bad enough storm?

do yall know how frustrating it is to be trans in a place that wants to kill you and whenever you bring it up to people they say "well just move out" instead of sympathizing with you or offering help?

do yall understand how alienating it is to see huge masterposts of queer and mental health resources but none of them are in your state because theyre all up north? and nobody seems to want to fix this glaring issue because "they're all hicks anyways"

Southern people deserve better. we deserve to be taken seriously and given a voice in the queer community and the mental health space and leftist talks in general.

[talesfrommedinastation]

Every so often, I'll ask myself, "Were the Bad Batch really the ultimate form of Space Rednecks?"

The simple answer? YES. YES THEY ARE.

That's why half of them look white. The Kiwi gods snatched that melanin and cheekbones back when they saw what trashy nonsense these Florida Men of the Republic were up to.

Let's take a quick look from one of their first introductions in The Clone Wars' season 7 episode: "A Distant Echo".

Barely a minute long, and the following redneck nonsense happens:

Clone Force 99, Rex, and Anakin Skywalker (who looks actually happy to be with these dingbats) fly into some absolute garbage dump of a planet that has all the raw grace of Port Arthur, Texas.

They arrive in their crappy second-hand work truck that's filled with leftover food, gun posters, other guns, a Twi'Lek Playmate of the month, and who knows what else. Notice Rex refuses to take a seat in that dump.

"I done heard that folks round here ain't civilized and they do worship the devil or something. Check it out!" - Tech.

Giant critter and its illiterate, backwoods, hillbilly owner knock their car over.

Everyone runs out to gawk.

Everyone whips out their guns.

Hunter and Wrecker literally yells at said giant critter to get off the car and are stymied when Anakin tells everyone to put the guns down.

Of course Crosshair shoots the critter while Tech helps him scope it out.

And Hunter goes for a drag race while cheering.

My neck is significantly redder after writing this out.

[threeravenspublishing]

Did You Miss The Trailer Park? Well, It's Back!

Did You Miss The Trailer Park? Well, It's Back!

And Volume 4 is sure to scratch that creepy itch you’ve got going on there. Everyone likes a good vacation, don’t they?You hear the word Vacation and it brings up thoughts of water, sand, refreshing drinks, and fun times.Of course, when your budget matches your monthly grocery bill, expectations have to be lowered, surprises expected, and not usually the good kind.With thirteen stories of…

[talesfrommedinastation]

Ya know, both Doug and I have gone on and on about how The Bad Batch are the backwoods yeehaw Floridamen of the clone army.

But there's been arguments that all Mandalorians are rednecks*. Ergo, all clones (the descendants of a Mandalorian) are rednecks as well.

And Grandpappy Rex yelling, then yanking off his helmet and flinging it at an inept Stormtrooper like he's throwing an empty beer bottle at a wayward possum in the trailer park just confirms it.

*=because who else would make an insane Evangelical religion about guns, refuse security because it means handing over their weapons, live in space trailers after losing their home with a fight with the government, being single parents, and spend their free time shooting at a lake and getting attacked by gators during a baptism?

::insert Deliverance theme::

I love Old Man Rex so much.

[fragglerockopinions]

today i visited subway. the person behind the counter was a woman i went to high school with and used to work with at the subway in our hometowns four years ago. we both attend college within twenty miles of home. i don't know her last name but i still have her number in my phone. she said "small world" but i don't think the world is small. i think we're small.

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

ayo did everyone have a ridiculously specific, redneck built playground game in elementary school or am I gonna sound like a goddamn space alien in order to explain what the hell shlockey is

[hermitcraftx]

the only reason dream everrrr had a platform or was popular is bc everyone made thirst traps of. his blond fake sona for years (he has fucking BROWN HAIR???) and then when he revealed he was a pedophile creepy weirdo right after he revealed his face everyone that made a career making daddy dream manhunt NSFW didn't stop blogging because some people would fuck steaming piles of human garbage if it was white and had abs. like every dream stan I've ever met is perpetually living in 2021 and dream is too and if that's not the biggest sign of the world's most colossal fumble I don't know what is. genuinely the only talent dream has is being uncannily manipulative and vague to try and get away with everything and play the victim later on after he says genuine rancid dogshit but he's not even the best at that. genuinely he's the definition of a career made by other people and if he thinks for a second his little white suburban fake redneck yuppy mr beast wannabe that he's going to successfully be a right wing grifter after being known as the gogy wogy uwu yaoi queerbait streamer (and yes I do think he's genuinely the ONLY real person that word applies to) then he's fucking insane. ain't nobody fucks with him. he's a footnote in Minecraft history. the worst people alive in the community don't fuck with him. tommyinnit is having tea with jacksepticeye and doing comedy shows and having fun with all the remaining good internet ogs and regularly pulling lots of views meanwhile the only way dream stays relevant out of his cesspool wretch infested pedophile apologist echo chamber that is his fanbase is regularly triggering dsmp drama to feel sorry for himself. can't do manhunt without cheating and it wasn't even an original idea another abuser took that from him can't do an smp tommyinnit made that for him it really seems to me on a psychological level that to a degree some of that cdream shit wasn't roleplay because dream knew the most memorable part of the biggest part of his career would be tommyinnit forever and always. and now he has to fight for tommyinnit beef scraps saying slurs and shit when he's not even involved getting way too comfortable after Trump gets elected when tommy barely pays him more mind than he paid Logan Paul when he WORKED with dream for YEARS. tommyinnit gets to be known as the man who fostered love and care for his fan base, an all around good person and joy to be around and a ray of light in the dark space that is the mcyt space, and a guy never backed down on his morals and ethics whereas dreams only claim to fame now are being a cheating bigoted ableist creepy pedophile-esque freak with no concept of proper boss/employee conduct or creator/fan conduct with a Republican bastard and a sexual assaulter as friends who was seen as mildly hot by teenagers in 2021 without y'know being able to comprehend you're not supposed to reciprocate. and I know it keeps him up at night because otherwise he wouldn't try and regain relevancy by starting shit with Tommy every 6 months. is it because tommy is an adult now, clay??? when people look back on fond memories of fandom in 20-30 years not a single person will be able to look at anything dream has been apart of without grimacing not even his fans because I know all those arguments on behalf of a nasty ass pervert will not be fond memories. the only original thing he's done is say the r slur- oh wait. I mean groom minors- oh wait. I mean be a bigoted racist- oh wait. I mean have gross misconduct with a fan- oh wait. I mean start drama a lot in hopes of getting attention- oh wait. genuinely the most pathetic shadow nothingburger ass of a man I've ever seen in my life may dogs eat his face off in the middle of the night.

[wild-rise]

Sunshine

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut MDNI 18+

Summary: After a stressful day and years of animosity between you and Daryl the dynamics of your power struggle finally gets resolved. Safe to say you're finally put in your place.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Reader is a brat, Soft!Dom Daryl, Kinda mean Daryl, Teasing, Oral (M!receiving) Face F!cking, Binding (Readers wrists), Dirty Talk, Pervy Daryl, Thigh Riding, Just the t!p, P in V penetration, unprotected (Wrap it before you tap it folks), creampie. I think that's it...

“How ‘bout runnin’ that by me one more time sunshine?” Daryl gruffs out cocking his head to you making sure he wasn’t going crazy because there’s no way in hell you just said what he thinks you did.

“Your hearing going out now Dixon?” Just before you reach the door of his room you turn to face him again, invading his space, craning your head up to make sure the message gets through his thick skull this time.

 “Fuck. You. You redneck piece of shit.” The words cutting like knives as they roll off your tongue. Daryl holds his composure as he looks down at you and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“If you want to so bad all ya have to do is ask nicely.” That same smirk dancing on his lips. He made every nerve in your body boil till you only saw red. Daryl knew how to push every single button to set you off and get under your skin.

Without warning Daryl’s face is hit with your saliva “Fucking pig.” You’re seething at this point and now any hint of playfulness in Daryl’s features is gone. You turn on your heels to leave when suddenly his large hand wraps around your arm pulling you back to his hard chest.

“You’re a goddamn bitch ya know that?” Daryl practically growls the words at you as he wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand.

“No. You’re just an inconsiderate asshat that’s just looking out for himself like always.” The venom of your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl as he holds you close noticing the heat radiating off your skin and your scent invading his senses.

“I’m the only reason you’re alive right now so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you drop it, Sunshine.” That stupid nickname he gave you back on the farm had its way of making a shit situation even shittier and Daryl knew, that’s why he made sure to draw out each syllable.

There can never be a civil interaction between the two of you. You’ve been together for so long, but the animosity never faded. Rick even tried locking you both in a cell together at the prison but after three hours of arguing he let both of you out and go separate ways. No one bothered to intervene and after that your relationship simply stayed stagnant.  

Right now, as much as it pained you he was right. The only reason you’re standing here is because he followed you on your hunt which turned sour when your kill was taken by walkers. The loss made you unhinged, being the final straw to break your back after all the tragedy your community suffered after the whispers. You went on dropping body after body till you were starting to get outnumbered, but your stubbornness never let up. Daryl noticing your struggle and intervened before you could get hurt but to his surprise you turned your rage towards him before storming off back to Alexandira.

Bringing you back here telling off Daryl for being… helpful? Honestly the stress of everything you’ve endured and the loss the community has suffered is getting to you and you need a release, and Daryl is the only one who can take it.

Taking a deep breath as you hold eye contact with him you’re finally registering just how close the two of you are. His breath fanning over your face, hand still holding tightly to your arm and that’s when the intrusive ideas locked away in the deepest parts of your mind finally come to light. “And what exactly is best for me Daryl? Hm? Please do tell.” Your voice is barely above a whisper now.

 “Is that you askin nicely?” he says watching the shift in your demeanor and matching your tone.

“Don’t push it Dixon.” The sternness in your voice lacking conviction and Daryl decided then what he was going to do with you.

He brings his other hand up to your face cupping your check and leaning down just about to kiss you when “Ask nicely. Sunshine.” He says right on your lips. How could he be even more frustrating, especially at a time like this. “Tell me what’s best for me. Please.” Sarcasm dripping on your every word. The fire in you is impossible to extinguish and honestly, it’s what Daryl loves about you so much and he’d die before he ever saw it put out but right now it needs to desperately be controlled.

“How bout ya let me show you.” And as quickly as the words fall from his mouth, he’s pressing his lips to yours. His actions are filled with hunger and desire as a mixture of saliva form between you. Your hands come up to find purchase on his broad shoulders as he deepens the kiss exploring every inch of your mouth. “Get on your knees. Now” the words going straight to your cunt but the brat in you can’t help but be defiant. “Ask nicely.” You mock him and the hand cupping your cheek travels to the back of your head grasping your hair tightly and dragging you down to your knees. “You just don’t know when to fuckin quit do ya? That shit stops now you understand?” The tenderness on your scalp stings from his grip but you welcome the sensation as a soft whimper leaves you confirming Daryl’s suspicion.

You wanted someone to put you in your place and take control. You didn’t want to have to think just do what you’re told and feel something other than the suffering you’ve endured.

“That so hard? Now, can you get my belt off or do ya need help with that too?” Realizing your predicament, you reach your hands up to undo his belt and pull down his zipper. Daryl releases his hand from your hair before pulling his belt off through the loops of his pants. “Hands behind your back.” Doing exactly what he says Daryl comes behind you tying your hands behind your back with his belt. Anticipation floods your body as Daryl stands back in front of you pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. The angry red tip directly in your face leaking precum and begging for a release. He was bigger than you imagined and the thought of him ramming your throat made your panties even more wet than before.

“Open up sunshine.” Lolling your tongue out Daryl slowly pushes his cock past your lips a little at a time allowing you to get comfortable with the position. Once you get a steady rhythm of sucking and licking his length Daryl’s hands return to your hair pulling you off him.

“Should’ve known cock would shut you up.” Daryl groans as he slides back into the warmness of your mouth. The sounds he made were almost heavenly enough to distract you from the pain in the back of your throat... almost. Your pace is quickly abandoned as Daryl starts bucking his hips in your face stuffing your throat full of his cock. Tears stream down your cheeks and the pressure from his belt straining on your wrists start to make your head dizzy and you can hardly breathe. “Fucking hell sunshine your takin me so well.” Daryl stops holding your head at the base of his dick till you start squirming from the lack of oxygen and he pulls you off completely. Taking a gasp of air trying to regain composure, you whine when he hoists you back up onto your feet.

“You gonna stop being a bitch or should I just let you finish sucking my dick and leave you here to take care of yourself?” He asks in such a kind way, but his actions moments ago were anything but. “I’ll stop. Promise, please Daryl.” You cry at him just needing something more as the desire grew within you. “Good girl. See I knew you had it in you.” He takes his belt off your wrists and has the rest of your garments following suit. Daryl guides you to lie on his bed and the vulnerable feeling of being completely exposed while he’s still fully dressed has your cheeks burning red. Daryl bends down to pick up your soaked panties, bring them to his face and takes a deep breath before shoving them in his back pocket. “Constellation prize.” He winks at you as you moan desperate for him to do anything to you.

“Are you going to actually touch me or just keep being a perv?” You groan at him as he pulls off his clothes joining you on his bed. “Just takin my time, don’t be so impatient.” You want to cry from the pressure building up at your cunt. Daryl could tell how needy you were from how much you’ve been pressing your thighs together chasing any type of satisfaction. Caging you between his forearms he slots a leg between yours adding pressure to your long awaiting cunt. Your arousal is prominent enough to leave remanence behind on his leg, but he doesn’t move. “Go on, hump my leg like the bitch you are.” His words hushed into your ear make the tears come back to your eyes. He was being so mean, and it was turning you on so much. With a strangled moan you started dragging your hips up and down, rubbing against his leg as he marked up and down your neck and chest leaving a path of hickeys and bruises. Your hips started bucking faster as you felt that familiar sensation of your approaching orgasm but just as you were about to let go Daryl pulls his thigh away from you.

“Daryl please I’m s-so ssorry I’ll be nice I’ll do whatever you want just plea-please make me cum.” You were a sight to behold, so worked up and desperate just for him and oh how he loved it. “Since you asked so nicely.” He leans down to give you a kiss but this time it was different. This time it lacked primal urgency from before, it was tender and attentive.

Now Daryl had your legs on either side of him as he lined his cock up with your dripping, aching pussy. He slowly pushed just the tip and watched your greedy cunt try to suck him in some more and your sobbing persisted. He leaned down peppering kisses along your jaw, shushing you trying to calm you down. “Next time I won’t be so harsh on ya if you use your manners, Sunshine.” Is all he whispers in your ear before sitting back up and ramming his entire length in you bottoming out.

Your cries and moans are so loud he’s pretty sure someone’s going to come down thinking you’re in danger, but he could care less because the sounds you’re making right now are music to his ears. The way he’s pressing your legs apart sends a burn through your thighs and your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts. “Doing so fuckin good for me f-fuck this pussy’s just suckin me in S-Sunshine.” His tough guy act falters as he speeds up his pace. Daryl quickly puts your legs onto his shoulders allowing him to hit that one spot deep in your body that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, fuck Daryl yes, yes right there oh my god please d-don’t stop.”  You cry out begging him for your release. "Wasn't plannin' on it. Fuck it's like this pussy was made for me." Daryl keeps up the same pace and brings a hand down rubbing tight circles on your clit. The added stimulation is enough to send you over the edge moaning Daryl’s name over and over again. The spasming of your cunt has him losing the fight of holding off his orgasm as he finishes deep inside you. “Fucking take it. F-fuck take it all.” He says while he delivers the final thrusts riding out both of your highs.

    Daryl rolls over, bringing you into his chest and caresses your hair while you both try to catch your breath. “What do you say? Hm?”

You look up at him through your lashes and taking in his disheveled appearance you realize this is a sight you could easily get used too.  “Thank you. Daryl.” Your voice is hoarse from the amount of screaming and moaning he pulled from you which sparked pride to flood through his chest.

“You are very welcome, Sunshine.” He feels content finally taming your fire as he traces patterns on your back while you slowly drift off to sleep.

[talesfrommedinastation]

They're Space Florida Dads.

Sure, they'll tuck you into bed and make sure your homework's done, but that's after they get chased by crabs on the beach, clothesline an underaged car thief, and/or get into a shoving scream-fight in front of their old workplace while the dog barks at a giant critter no one sees.

And let the kid be baby-sat by a gator. Who allows them to gamble. In a bar.

Ya know, Florida Dad stuff.

It's so funny how we see the bad batch as space dads when in fact canonically they must be seen by every single character as a dangerous menace and ESPECIALLY omega.

[junkpuppet225]

note: Some more forced proximity with our favorite archer. Walkers are literally the worst.

The comfort you found in Daryl’s silence is torture now, grating on your nerves as you rummage through another nameless corner mart. He’s barely escaped being bitten twice since that kiss under the bed choosing to fight instead of flee in fear you’d both end up trapped somewhere again.

The only sound comes from the faint snarl of a lone walker clawing at the back door as you search for anything edible to bring back to the group. The thought of Carl or Judith going hungry another day motivates you to join the grumpy archer on his runs. Much to his dismay.

Daryl tosses a small bag of expired beef jerky at your feet, the first sign that he’s acknowledging your existence since the rundown cabin. You lift your eyes to him slowly but his gaze is burned into the empty racks, bottom lip pulled between blunt teeth as he busies himself searching the nothing before him. That now familiar ache tightens in your chest as you let your eyes fall to the small bag of dehydrated meat, grabbing it to place it in your bag for the kids.

“Eat.” The word is so low and threatening it barely registers, bringing your eyes back to his quickly. Daryl stands with his back rigid - the muscles in his arms coiled tightly but he won’t look at you. He can’t risk looking at you. “What?”

“I can hear yer stomach growlin’ all the way over here.”

As if on cue a deep rumble emerges from your core filling your cheeks with warmth as you advert your eyes quickly. Yeah you’re hungry but so is everyone else. “I’m okay.” You assure him willing your stomach to quiet down. It answers with another deep groan. “Wasn’t askin’.” Daryl growls, hands clenching to fists at his sides as he finally glares at you.

“A-are you mad at me?” You place your hands in your lap as you look up at him with eyes that threaten tears. The two of you had an unspoken understanding, you worked well together - had each other’s backs but now he treats you like a pariah. All over one amazing kiss.

“No.” Daryl looks offended you would even suggest such a thing narrowing his eyes to slits.

“Did I do something wrong?” You hate the desperation in your voice. Hate the way his kiss lingers in your memory. The world is on fire - the dead walking and you’re fighting back tears because a grouchy redneck hurt your feelings.

He was the one who kissed you.

“Na. Ya didn’t do nothin’.”

You wipe away the tears that betray you and let your gaze fall to your lap. Above you Daryl starts to pace, nervous energy filling his limbs as he watches you stuff the jerky into your bag to share with the others. It fills him with a white hot rage and although you’re the one he unleashes it on it has nothing to do with you. He’s angry with himself, angry with these unfamiliar thoughts and feelings suffocating him every second of the day. Feelings he has no fucking idea how to show or give credence to. They’re eating him up inside - driving him fucking crazy.

“Fuckin’ eat.”

“I don’t—-.”

“Why ya gotta be so goddamn hard headed?! Huh? Ya think I don’t see ya? Don’t watch ya every fucking day take less food than the others?”

You grab the beef jerky from your bag and shoot up to your feet, closing the space between you to shove it into his chest glaring. “Yeah? Who do you think I learned it from?” Daryl always takes less food even opting to not eat at all if it’s something Carl actually likes. Your combined unwavering selflessness will be your downfalls.

Daryl grabs your wrist, holding your palm to his chest as he glares back - molars grinding from the flood of emotion filling his soul. Anger that you’re starving and there’s nothing he can do about it, regret from running away after kissing you that day and desire from how fucking beautiful you look standing here before him. It sends an ache through his chest as you take another step forward and sink your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Do you regret kissing me?” Your words are feathery soft, eyes trained on his lips that part with needed air. “No.” Daryl pulls you flush against his chest still gripping your wrist tightly while his other hand slides down your side and along your hip. “I want you to kiss me again.”

He answers with your name rumbling deep in his chest. Kissing you is the last thing on his mind right now. He wants to fuck you against these empty shelves - to feel every fucking part of you wrapped around him. Finally letting go of your wrist the beef jerky is all but forgotten as he brushes his rough palm against your cheek - fingers sinking into the back of your hair and chest heaving with desire as his ocean eyes search yours.

The words he wants to say are trapped in his throat - your faces so close he can feel your soft pants of needed air against his lips. “Kiss m—-.” Your request is cut off by his mouth on yours - one rough hand sliding to the small of your back while the other sinks deeper into your hair - kissing you with every ounce of desire running through him. He’s like a man starved, using his much larger body to push you back into the biting shelves - demanding your tongue with his as he swallows those beautiful little groans that escape your throat - sliding his hand further up your shirt to grasp at your waist.

Somewhere behind you the lone walker begins to thrash against the door - jarring the mop handle you used as a makeshift lock until it’s rattling dangerously. “D-Daryl…” Your worried eyes flutter shut as his mouth finds your throat, trailing a wet kiss to your collar bone as an idle hand brushes against the swell of your breast - bringing a deep almost primal growl to his lips. “…ain’t gonna get in.” He whispers in that rough thrilling voice before returning his lips to yours quickly - grasping at your hips to lift you up easily.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and cling to him as his slow desperate tongue moves with yours - worn boots kicking useless shit out of his way before he swipes his arm over the front counter sending empty boxes flying. He sits you down without breaking your kiss - grabbing your waist to bring your body against his as he settles himself between your thighs and buries his hands into your hair.

Daryl kisses you like his sole purpose in life is your mouth on his and it sends a wave of pure pleasure straight to your core as you kiss him back just as fiercely - placing your hands at the nape of his neck, nails digging into the back of his hair as he groans into your mouth. All sense of reality slips away - the world isn’t over, the dead aren’t walking - it’s just you and Daryl and his hard body pressed into yours so close you swear you can feel his heart hammering against your chest.

The archer pulls away from your mouth just enough to take in a ragged breath, eyes searching as he tries to figure out what to do with you. He wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything in his miserable life but the back door begins to bang louder - one walker can’t break through the barricade but several have no problem snapping the mop handle to pour inside the futile gas station.

Daryl hangs his head for a moment, a slew of profanity falling from his lips as he realizes he has to stop this again. He won’t risk your life no matter how good you’re making him feel. He won’t ever risk you. When he lifts his eyes to yours he’s taken back at the desire in your gaze, stealing one last long kiss as the back door finally burst open and several snarling dead bodies push through the narrow space.

He whispers motherfucker against your lips then grabs his crossbow from the ground beside him - turning to the threat as you hop off the counter to help. Once the walkers are truly dead you grab the small bag of beef jerky from on your way out. Daryl watches you idly as you take a mouthful of the processed meat and hand him the rest - silently daring him to protest. To your surprise the grumpy archer finishes it off as you make your way back to the others empty handed.

Later that night as your group sits around the low fire with hollow bellies and broken spirits Daryl watches you, replying every second of your time together today with his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. There’s so many concerning things that need to be addressed with the others of but all he can process is the feel of your lips against his. Idly wondering when he’ll get to taste them again.

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Return'

Doug and I have made up for our disagreement regarding Montana. I did not, in fact, go to his St Patrick's Day party (due to the fact I was busy with my daughter's Scout pack being in the parade), but we bonded over the insane weather in our region recently.

He had a lot of strong opinions on this, and it was a little scattered. Kind of like most TV shows, I guess.

CW: Doug Doug's on and continues to have Feelings about Certain Geographic Locations. Enjoy!

---------------------------------

Episode 4: “Redneck Family Bonding”

You know how I know them clone boys is from Florida?

Because the show opens to Little Orphan Blonde sleeping in their busted work van wearing a puka shell necklace while her brother Daddy Warcrimes is shooting fruit on the beach all while their adopted mutant dog chases critters away from the trash can.

Yup. Average day in Florida. 

Of course Daddy Rambo is sitting on the ledge, watching Daddy Warcrimes and mumbling to himself. Do you think he peeps on the neighbors in the other part of Space Daytona? He totally does. Daddy Rambo, you need a girlfriend, make that fruity robot wear a skirt and take it out on a date or something. 

Hell YEAH, my boy Toaster Strudel is BACK! Look at him hugging everyone. Good man. Love him. Why is Daddy Warcrimes still wearing that fisherman sweater, is it St. Patrick’s Day still? Where’s Rex? Oh well. 

And they’re chilling out on Hoops’s porch, chugging the man’s liquor and eating his sushi. I would, too. Oh man, they’re referencing Ryan-from-Accounting. I’m sad now. Where’s Church Lady? Probably realized she was too good for Ryan-from-Accounting, or maybe she found his bitch wife Laura and now they wine buddies. I guess. 

Aw, Mutant Jimmers is friends with the monkeys. God damn, I love Mutant Jimmers. 

No one can hack into the iPad Little Orphan Blondie took from her internship at the Museum of Science and Industry. Little Orphan Blondie’s a kid, make the kid do it! All kids know how iPads work! 

They still kept Daddy Warcrimes’s armor with the Georgia colors and the skulls! And that’s why Daddy Rambo won’t look at him–look at Daddy Rambo’s colors, man’s a Gator fan and the SEC decides everything now don’t it. 

So…they’re going back to Space Wyoming? Oh man, I remember this dump. I hope they threw THAT BLOND JACKASS’S body in a dumpster and let the bears eat it. 

Back to the walk-in refrigerator where Daddy Warcrimes hung out with….oh. Oh. Sassy Park Ranger. Oh. But hey they found an ATM! How else are they gonna buy weed out here? 

You know it’s a redneck family vacation because someone’s gotta get out of the trailer and turn on the circuit breaker cause there’s no power and they gotta watch the Saints play. At least they ain’t hot wiring the HMS Search Warrant to power shit up. Actually, it would be great if they did–that’s some redneck engineering right there and it’s good bonding for those angry boys. 

Oh the daddy fight! Daddy Warcrimes and Daddy Rambo need the therapy and they ain’t gonna get it so they gonna do what rednecks do when they upset and need to talk…go outside the trailer and scream and shove each other while the dog barks at everything. Someone needs to trip on a rusty rake now. I feel like I’m watching my own family on Christmas.

Of course, turning off the power means the critters are coming! Is it gonna be a snow gator? No? Oh man it’s one of them worms from that sand movie that Bobbie Lee keeps talking about! 

Go go Daddy Warcrimes go! Save Daddy Rambo! 

Once again, they rednecks, because nothing solves a problem like shooting a gun repeatedly into the ground. Don’t none of these folks have a taser? Some bear mace? Come on, there’s a Wal Mart on Space Daytona I know there is. 

Mutant Jimmers is helping everyone out! Go Mutant Jimmers go! When does Mutant Jimmers get her own show? 

Toaster Strudel bitching at everyone as he gonna do. I agree Toaster Strudel, I agree. 

Man look at Little Orphan Blondie go and there’s Julio doing all the work while being chased by the snow critter. Why does every animal on earth wanna mate with Julio I swear to God. 

And they turned the power back on and boom no more critter chasing. This is the most redneck show I swear I’m watching a show about my idiot brother in law and his friends in Wyoming. 

Nothing brings the family together like going out to an abandoned trailer, searching for the power, shooting guns, getting chased by critters and a screaming shove-fight outside while the dog chases a big-assed animal away from the garbage. Yup. Space rednecks. They all need NASCAR shirts. 

Well, they got the iPad working again….back to Space Florida! And they all getting along.

Meat Muffin, why did this episode make me so happy?

Tagging Doug's fans because yes: @skellymom @cdblake1565 @megmca @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @eelfuneral @thecoffeelorian @lightwise @archivistofnerddom @askyourfox @heavenseed76 @totallyunidentified