#there's more stuff i'm not gonna keep going

[chonny-jash]

UPDATE

Hey gang!

Just wanted to stop in to give a quick update on the future of this fuckass pile of highfalutin bullshit I've been ill-advisedly allowed to call a "Music Career."

Basically, it's all a bit weird and I don't wanna commit to any specific long-term project or idea at the moment... so I'm not going to! To that end, I'm going to temporarily pause the Majora's Mask album, and instead start taking everything on a much more step-by-step, case-by-case basis. I've had so much damn fun with the last two songs and I'd be plain stupid to not take advantage of the flexibility I've been afforded, so I'm gonna spend the foreseeable future making the music I make best: whatever music I want at any given time. The key notes, however, are this:

It won't be Tally Hall, CCCC or HMS related (sorry!)

Majora's Mask isn't a priority but there's no guarantee I won't go ahead and make one or two more songs for the album. Whatever the case, the album will not be completed any time soon.

My gut says there are gonna be a good handful of originals! But again, the point is that there is no point, there may be a few covers, or some other random stuff, who knows!

The wait in between songs and ideas may or may not fluctuate (again, I don't know) but I'll try my best to keep everyone updated after each release.

New song in approximately 2 weeks! Get keen. Or don't. Idc dude it's up to you.

uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

That's basically it! I'm going to continue working just as hard as ever, the boulder will just be a bit more amorphous and the hill a little more winding than usual.

That's all!

Stay cool, stay kind, and stay funky.

[: ]

TL;DR - the next few months or so are gonna look like this:

[chrissssssmut]

hey idol I'm a big fan of you now hahaha I want to reserve new requests just take your time sir

G!P Ningning (Dom) = Smut

Wendy Momo Miyeon Yeji Giselle Ruka Natty Minju Liz Yeseo = Yandere (yeah that's too many idols 10 to be exact)

don't forget my Yeji fox yandere

LUCKY FRESHMAN

g!p ningning x male reader

AN: Hey y'all! Sorry for the late stories! Been super busy recently but I still write during my free time! Hope y'all could still wait for the other requests😞♥️

You always knew college would be overwhelming, but you didn't expect it to hit this fast. Three days into your freshman year, and you were already completely lost — not just in your classes, but literally, standing at a random hallway with your backpack slung over one shoulder, staring at your schedule like it might magically make sense if you glared hard enough.

"Looking a little lost there, newbie," a voice teased behind you.

You turned around and almost dropped your phone.

Standing there, in ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie that hung off one shoulder, was Ningning — the queen of the senior class. You recognized her immediately; everyone did. She was the type of girl you heard about before even stepping foot on campus — wild, confident, devastatingly pretty, and way out of your league.

"Uh… yeah. Kinda," you admitted, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

She smirked and tilted her head. Her blonde hair caught the sunlight pouring through the window, making her look almost unreal. "Lemme guess… freshman? First week?"

You nodded, feeling like an idiot.

Ningning laughed softly. "Cute."

The way she said it made your face burn. She stepped closer, close enough that you could smell her perfume — something sweet and a little sharp, like cherries and something more dangerous underneath.

"What's your name, freshman?"

"(Y/n)," you said a little too quickly.

"(Y/n)," she repeated, like she was tasting it. "Well, (Y/n), lucky for you, I'm feeling generous today. How about a campus tour?"

You blinked. "Wait, seriously? You don't even know me."

Ningning just grinned wider. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna."

Something about her tone sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure if it was excitement or fear — maybe both.

You barely remembered half the stuff she pointed out during the "tour." Most of it was just her teasing you, brushing close enough that her arm would graze yours, flashing you mischievous smiles that made your heart hammer against your ribs. It wasn't until she steered you toward one of the older, empty classrooms that you realized maybe this wasn't just about being helpful.

She kicked the door closed behind you and leaned back against it, arms crossed casually over her chest. The late afternoon light made the dust in the room glow around her like a halo — if halos were meant for troublemakers.

"So," she said slowly, "you gonna keep staring at me like a scared little puppy, or are you gonna admit you’ve been checking me out since I said hi?"

You felt your ears go red. "I— I wasn't—"

Ningning laughed, low and amused. "Relax, freshman. I like it."

She pushed off the door and walked toward you in slow, lazy steps. You backed up instinctively until the back of your legs hit a desk.

"You’re so tense," she murmured, reaching out to trail her fingers lightly up your chest, toying with the strap of your backpack. "You scared of me?"

"N-No," you stammered.

Her grin widened. "Good."

Without warning, she grabbed you by the front of your shirt and pulled you down into a kiss. It was messy and aggressive — her teeth nipping at your bottom lip, her hands already sliding under your hoodie to feel your skin. You gasped, and she took the chance to slip her tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeper, rougher.

When she finally pulled away, you were dizzy.

"You taste sweet," she said, voice husky. "Bet the rest of you tastes even sweeter."

Before you could even process that, she was tugging your hoodie off and tossing it aside. Her hands roamed your chest, nails scraping lightly down your skin, making you shiver.

"You ever been with a girl like me before, freshman?" she asked, nipping at your neck.

You swallowed thickly. "N-No."

Ningning chuckled against your skin. "Good. Means I get to ruin you first."

You shivered again, but not from fear this time.

She kissed her way down your body, fingers working expertly at your belt. When she tugged your jeans down, you almost panicked from how hard you already were. Ningning noticed immediately, of course.

"Aww, look at you," she cooed, cupping you through your boxers. "So needy."

You bit your lip to keep from whining when she squeezed you lightly.

"You want me to take care of you, freshman?" she asked, tilting her head innocently — but her hand was anything but innocent, palming you slowly through the thin fabric.

"Y-Yeah," you breathed.

She smiled like you gave the right answer. "Good boy."

Your heart skipped a beat at the words.

Ningning finally slipped your boxers down, and your cock sprang free. She whistled low.

"Not bad, newbie," she teased. "Think you can make me feel good too?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but then she was standing up again — and tugging off her hoodie.

Your breath caught. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

Your eyes dropped automatically — her full breasts, her soft, golden skin — but then you noticed something else. Something… unexpected.

Between her legs, half-hard and twitching against her thigh, was her own thick length.

You stared, brain short-circuiting.

"Surprised?" Ningning said, clearly amused. She stepped closer, tilting your chin up so you had to meet her eyes. "You okay, freshman?"

"I—" You swallowed, mouth dry. "Y-Yeah."

Her grin was pure mischief. "Good. 'Cause I'm not stopping now."

She kissed you again, deeper, rougher, her hips grinding against yours. You gasped at the feeling of her cock pressing against your stomach, hot and heavy.

"You make me so hard," she growled into your mouth. "You don't even know."

She grabbed your hand and wrapped it around her shaft. You felt her throb against your palm, leaking already.

"Stroke it," she ordered, voice low and commanding. "Nice and slow."

You obeyed, your hand sliding awkwardly at first, but she guided your pace with her own fingers.

"Good boy," she murmured again, and it made your cock twitch helplessly.

After a few minutes, she grabbed both your wrists and pinned them above your head, pressing you back against the desk.

"You ready, freshman?" she whispered, nipping at your jawline. "I'm gonna fuck you so good you'll forget your own name."

You nodded frantically, desperate and aching.

Ningning laughed softly, positioning herself between your thighs. She spat into her hand and slicked herself up, then teased your entrance with her leaking tip.

"Relax," she said, voice surprisingly gentle now. "I'll go slow, okay?"

You nodded again, biting your lip.

She pushed in slowly — the stretch intense but not unbearable, especially with how careful she was being. You gasped, grabbing at the edge of the desk.

"Fuck," Ningning groaned, rolling her hips forward. "You're so tight, baby."

She bottomed out with a low hiss, burying herself deep inside you.

"You feel so good," she whispered, kissing your throat. "So fucking good."

Slowly, she started to move — shallow thrusts at first, giving you time to adjust. She murmured praise against your skin the whole time, telling you how good you were, how perfect you felt wrapped around her.

"You take me so well," she said, voice wrecked. "Such a good boy for me."

Soon her pace picked up, hips slapping against yours with wet, filthy sounds. You clung to her, panting and whimpering with every thrust.

"Look at you," Ningning growled, fucking into you harder. "Already falling apart for me."

You couldn’t even deny it — you were close, embarrassingly close, your cock leaking precum onto your stomach.

"You gonna cum, freshman?" she teased, biting your earlobe. "Gonna cum from just getting fucked like a little toy?"

You whimpered, nodding desperately.

"Cum for me," she ordered, thrusting harder. "Wanna see you make a mess."

It only took a few more strokes before you were cumming hard, crying out her name as you painted your stomach white.

Ningning cursed and drove into you even harder, chasing her own release. A few thrusts later, she slammed deep and came inside you with a broken moan, filling you up with hot, heavy spurts.

You both stayed there for a minute, panting, bodies pressed tight together.

Finally, Ningning pulled back and looked down at you with a lazy, satisfied grin.

"God," she said, laughing breathlessly. "You're even better than I imagined."

You blinked up at her, dazed and completely ruined.

She bent down and kissed your forehead.

"Welcome to college, freshman," she said, winking. "You're mine now."

You didn’t know how you survived the rest of that day. Your legs were still shaky, your body a mess underneath your clothes, and you could still feel Ningning’s cum slowly dripping out of you every time you shifted in your seat.

But Ningning didn’t seem even a little sorry.

If anything, she looked proud — flashing you smug little smiles every time you caught her eye across campus.

By some miracle, you made it to your orientation meeting on time. It was supposed to be important — meeting one of the professors who would be your academic advisor for the next year. You were supposed to make a good impression.

Supposed to.

You were waiting nervously outside the office when you felt a familiar hand grab your wrist and tug you around the corner.

"Ningning—!" you hissed, glancing around frantically. "What are you doing?"

She only giggled and pushed you up against the wall, caging you in with her arms.

"You think you can just walk around after what we did," she whispered against your ear, "acting like nothing happened? Hm?"

You swallowed hard. "I— I have a meeting—"

"I know," she purred. "I'm coming with you."

You stared at her like she was insane.

Before you could argue, the door opened, and a cheerful voice called, "Next student, please!"

Ningning grinned and grabbed your hand.

"Let's go, freshman."

You sat stiffly in the chair across from Professor Kang’s desk, your heart pounding for all the wrong reasons.

Professor Kang — a kind-looking woman with glasses perched on her nose — smiled warmly at you.

"So! (Y/n), right? Welcome to the department," she said, shuffling through a few papers. "We’re excited to have you here."

You tried to smile back, but it felt more like a grimace. Especially when Ningning slipped behind you… and you felt her hand slide up your thigh under the desk.

Your stomach dropped.

She wasn’t seriously—

You stiffened as she casually popped the button of your jeans open under the desk.

You shot her a look over your shoulder — wide-eyed, panicked — but she just winked.

"So tell me a little bit about yourself, (Y/n)," Professor Kang prompted, completely unaware of the absolute chaos happening below her desk.

"I, um—" you stammered, barely able to form words as Ningning tugged your zipper down. "I'm from— from out of town."

"Really? That's great! What made you choose our program?" the professor asked kindly.

You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a sharp inhale as Ningning fished your cock out into the cool air.

You squirmed slightly, praying to every god that the desk was tall enough to hide you.

"Uhm—uhm, the, uh… the curriculum—" you gasped out.

Ningning had dropped to her knees behind you, hidden perfectly by your chair, and now you felt the hot, wet heat of her mouth wrapping around your cock.

You bit the inside of your cheek brutally, trying not to buck your hips.

"The curriculum," you forced out, voice about two octaves higher than normal.

Professor Kang smiled, nodding. "We do have a strong curriculum. I'm glad you noticed that. Do you have any particular goals for your first year?"

Your brain could barely process the words. Ningning’s tongue was swirling around your head in slow, lazy circles, teasing you mercilessly.

"I— I want to… um…" You trailed off with a helpless noise as Ningning took you deeper into her throat, swallowing around you.

You saw Professor Kang tilt her head slightly, concerned.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)? You look a little flushed."

"I'm—I'm fine!" you squeaked. "Just—just nervous, haha—"

Ningning pulled off just long enough to whisper, "Good boy," against the base of your cock before sinking back down again, even deeper this time.

You gripped the arms of your chair so hard your knuckles turned white.

"Well, that's completely understandable," Professor Kang said warmly. "We try to make the transition easy for first-years. You're not alone, okay?"

You nodded frantically, trying to smile through the sheer hell Ningning was putting you through. She was going slow on purpose, edging you cruelly, keeping you right on the brink without letting you fall over.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get worse — or better — you felt her hand between your legs again.

No, not your cock this time.

Lower.

Your whole body tensed as her slick fingers pressed against your still-sensitive entrance.

You shot a desperate, pleading look over your shoulder, but Ningning just smirked and mouthed, shh, be good.

"Do you have any extracurricular interests, (Y/n)?" Professor Kang asked, glancing down at your file.

You barely heard her. Ningning had slipped one finger inside you — slow, deliberate, maddening — and was working it in and out in time with the lazy bob of her mouth.

"I—uh—I like sports," you blurted, voice cracking humiliatingly.

"Sports? That's wonderful!" the professor said, smiling wider.

Meanwhile, Ningning slipped a second finger inside, scissoring you open. You bit down on your own tongue to stop a moan from escaping.

You were going to die. Right here. In your first week of college. Cause of death: horny senior committing public war crimes with your body.

And then — as if she had been waiting for you to be just loose enough — you felt the blunt, hot press of Ningning’s cock against your entrance.

Your heart stopped.

She pushed in slowly, carefully, and you almost choked on your own spit trying not to make a sound.

"So, what are you most excited about this semester?" Professor Kang asked, blissfully oblivious.

You blinked tears out of your eyes. "Learning," you gasped. "Learning a lot."

Ningning buried herself fully inside you under the desk, bottoming out with a quiet, satisfied sigh you could barely hear over the blood roaring in your ears.

"That's a great attitude!" Professor Kang beamed.

You nodded frantically, gripping the chair like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.

Ningning stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust — the only mercy she gave you — but then she started to move. Tiny, shallow thrusts, just enough to make you feel everything without making any noise.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything except sit there and pretend you weren’t getting fucked slow and deep by your insanely hot, insanely reckless senior guide.

"You’re doing great," Professor Kang said, standing to grab a pamphlet from a nearby shelf.

"You’re going to be just fine here."

You managed a weak smile, praying she wouldn't look too closely at your ruined, trembling form.

Meanwhile, Ningning picked up her pace just slightly — little quick, sharp thrusts that made your thighs tremble.

She leaned up behind you, still hidden, and whispered hotly against your ear:

"Cum for me," she murmured. "Cum while you're talking to her."

You shook your head desperately, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

But Ningning just thrust harder, deeper, until you had no choice — your body betrayed you, tightening around her, and you came with a silent, shuddering gasp, your cum spilling uselessly onto your shirt under the desk.

You sagged against the chair, boneless and wrecked, your vision swimming.

"Here you go!" Professor Kang said cheerily, handing you a pamphlet you barely managed to grab with shaky fingers.

"Thank you," you croaked out.

"Anytime, (Y/n)! I'll see you around."

You barely managed to stand when she dismissed you.

Ningning stayed hidden until you stumbled out into the hallway, dragging you into a shadowy corner before pulling out of you with a filthy, wet sound.

You collapsed against the wall, gasping for air.

Ningning licked her lips and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking utterly pleased with herself.

"God, you're so fucking hot when you try to behave," she whispered, tugging your pants back up sloppily.

You couldn't even answer. You just stood there, wrecked and leaking and completely owned by her.

Ningning laughed and ruffled your hair like you were some obedient pet.

"See you tonight, freshman," she said with a wink.

"You owe me another round."

[nyc-pizza-rat]

an idea came to me in the middle of the night. picture this: dean and cas out on a case, somewhere post s13, i would say, sans michael problem, effectively post canon in the sense that there is no real big bad left to fight they're just sort of doing their own thing. anyway. yes. dean and cas, on a case. and cas is near human now btw! his grace has been sort of..drying up, for the lack of a better word. and he's out hunting with dean alone. and they take a case somewhere close enough to home, but not too close, and turns out it's a witch. and everything goes more or less according to plan, but then cas gets SHOT because he's reckless and stupid, and it happens in front of dean and he goes panic mode crazy but somehow they deal with the witch. and then dean like. helps cas back to the car, stitches him up in the motel room, and he is soooo mad he just gives him the cold shoulder.

and they're driving home, and dean's looking out at the road, but he's not really seeing the road, he's remembering cas getting shot, and it's like the worst kind of memory, sth that catapults you into the past and brings the awful, terrible feelings up to the surface, and really, it's good that dean's been driving since about the time that he could reach the pedals because it's only muscle memory that's keeping him on the road. and then cas sighs, loud, and dean falls back into himself, and he's so unbelievably pissed he doesn't know what to do with it. he clenches his hands around the steering wheel and locks his teeth together.

cas shifts, and says, are you just never going to speak to me again? and dean says nothing and then cas goes, can we atleast turn on your tape, and this really fans the flames inside dean because he keeps calling it dean's tape and it's not dean's tape, it's CAS' tape because dean GAVE IT to him! when dean doesn't respond to that, cas tries to reach over to the console, and dean slaps his hand away.

says, sth along the lines of how reckless people dont get car music privileges, and cas rolls his eyes heavenward. Says, i wasn't being reckless! and i'm fine, dean.

and dean shakes his head and is like oh so that wasn't you that bled all over me back at the motel?

and cas is like. squinty glaring. dean goes, that's what i thought.

and then cas glares more, takes a breath. goes: you know, you are so much worse at being calculated in the field. you're the one who's always running into places without forethought. and dean's like well i'm not the one who went and got himself shot. and cas is like IN THE SHOULDER. it's not even a bad wound. i'll heal in no time! and dean scoffs and shakes his head and cas goes you're being a real assbutt right now. and dean goes your face is being a real assbutt and cas goes what and dean goes what? shut up.

and then cas goes back to staring out the window and dean goes back to replaying the fight in his head and driving and they don't really talk more and when they get to the bunker cas just gets out the car the moment it's parked and slams the door on purpose and dean is like great. just great. watch it, you dick! and he grabs the stuff from the trunk and then when he drops everything at the map table, he sees that sam and jack are fussing over cas about the injury (his arm's like in a sling and everything) and sam asks are you okay and cas is sooo annoyed he's like you guys are the worst im literally fine. and dean goes sure you are. and cas goes don't you start with me right now. and dean is like what? like you can't be doing this shit you're not invincible like you used to be you're gonna get hurt and when you get hurt you're gonna get in trouble, and you're gonna get everyone with you in trouble and it's gonna be a bitch of a situation!!!! and cas goes FINE then I'll just go hunting on my own then you don't have to take me with you and you don't have to worry about me bring a liability and dean goes shut the fuck up you're not going on cases ALONE are you not hearing me about you being vulnerable now and cas throws his hands up or tries to and then winces and dean grabs his arm to look at it and cas goes let go and dean goes shut up and let me look at it and then he does and cas has fully pulled at dean's crude stitches and he's bleeding a little through the bandages and dean says well shit.

so sam brings dean some real suturing supplies and then looks between them but decides he values his own mental health more than maintaining deancas peace (he's been working on his affirmations lately and he's realised that he's living like a child of divorce in his own house bc of these two) and fucks off. and dean's taking care of cas and cas is silently letting him but he's also fuming. and as dean's working on redoing the stitches he's kind of also losing it a little bit and again, it's really good that he's been doing these things since before he hit the teens bc the practice is really the only thing keeping his hands steady. and he goes. fuck. cas. it's just -- it's scary, alright? you don't wanna be in the field watching your partner go down -- that's just -- and cas interrupts him and goes i wouldn't have let anything happen to you and dean goes i'm not talking about me! i don't care about that! and cas is like quiet. chastised, almost. and dean's mind is going brrrr bc he's just saying things before he can think them right. and he's telling him hunting IS like this I know that but it doesn't change that your stomach just drops when you see someone you love get hurt in the field and cas goes what and dean goes, i mean i still panic when it's sam but it's just -- it's so much worse when it's you. and cas goes what. and dean is just babbling but cas is not hearing him not really and then cas says dean. and dean stops and looks up and cas goes it's worse when it's me and dean goes wide eyed like O-O and cas goes is that what you just said? and dean goes sure. ye-yeah. and then he looks down and he's done w the stitches. so he quickly sterelizes the skin and goes. well. rest up, sleep and cas is just dial-up modem rebooting mode right now and dean books it out of there and then they don't talk about it for like two weeks until cas' modem reboot finishes and then he just jolts into his senses and then he goes to find dean and kisses him stupid THE END

wholeheartedly believe that the first time dean drops the L word on cas, he’s scared and desperate and angry, and as he’s yelling at/pleading with cas (same thing to dean), “you’re the love of my life” just slips out. and dean doesn’t even think about it, because it’s just an obviously true fact to him.

meanwhile cas is totally blindsided making dial up noises and having his entire understanding of the world rewritten in an instant

[erwinsvow]

I need a background on wifey and pope like how they met everyone's reaction to her and stuff 😭

I yearn for them

i am SOOOOO happy you asked about this because i honestly have a million ideas and i'd love to know what you think would be the best one to use whenever i finally start writing them. my favorite trope ever is sweetheart girlfriend with the boy no one expects her to be with so i went a little berserk thinking about them. i am yearning so much i'm so glad to yearn with you. same as last time, read more since this is looong

okay SO, at first i thought maybe they meet during a job?? like if anyone has ever seen the town, when they kidnap the one teller and then let her go and ben affleck's character falls for her? like if they're taking two get away cars and wifey would just be a patron at the bank (i picture her as a nurse!) and when the storm the place and have to pick a hostage, he picked her. sometimes when i think of these things i try to imagine it like a scene from a movie, so she would be staring up at him with like wet teary eyes while he holds a gun to her head. i imagine the others would be in the vault getting the money and pope would immediately be so disarmed and lower the gun away from her because she'd be saying "please don't hurt me, please don't hurt me" and he'd go "i'm not gonna hurt you." and maybe if someone in the bank got hurt wifey would plead with pope to let her go help him, saying how she's a nurse and he might bleed out. the others would just try to keep the hostage until they get out safely but i think pope would let her help the person and she would say thank you to the literal man holding her hostage because she's a sweetheart and he'd just stand there like ? he has a mask on but she would keep looking back up at him, even when the others pour back into the room and they all have weapons so it's not like she's only worried about him.

well anyways.. i think a few weeks later, they don't hear anything about anyone dying, so the guy must have lived. and you're a nurse, so pope does pope things and becomes a little obsessed. tracks down your hospital, finds your shift. goes in with a cut on his hand and lets people get taken back before him until you come out to get him. i think he'd try and fail to be subtle, while you're bandaging his hand he asks you something like "is that guy okay?" and you'd be confused but laugh, he's a little strange but cute and generally polite so far, besides the staring. you've dealt with way worse. "what guy?" "the guy from the bank." BUUUUT here's my thing. i don't think she'd get up and call security and be scared. i think she'd know exactly who this is. so you nod, and pope's hand would tighten around your wrist, and he tells you again that he's not gonna hurt you. he just wanted to make sure that guy was okay. and then maybe he'd ask if you're okay. and i think the conversation would go something like you telling pope that he saved that man's life, and pope would say that you saved his life, and you say that if he hadn't let you help him, he would be dead. so it was both of you. and i just think that it would be the first time pope would have heard that kind of sentiment.

so you tell him to come back if the wound gets red or swollen or painful. he nods and listens to your every word like he doesn't know how to take care of cuts. and then later that week, there's a black truck outside your apartment. maybe you work weird hours, live in a bad area.. he would think himself responsible for making sure you get from the hospital to your house safely. i mean can anyone on this blog say that if pope was checking in on you like this that you wouldn't fall for him? because that is exactly what sweetheart wifey reader does, she thinks it's sweet and she thinks he's nice and she's willing to overlook the whole armed robbery hostage thing. one day he's lurking outside and then your front door opens, and you run up to his window and tap on the glass carefully.

"are you hungry? i made dinner, if you want to come up."

okay so that is one theory. another one i like is that you're in some kind of a public place and there's something going on, like someone is pulling a job or there's a shooting and you just get covered and held down until it's over and when you look up it's pope who saved you. and not for any real reason that he knows what to do in this situation and you didn't, maybe he just happened to be standing next to you. so obviously wifey would be so thankful and enamoured, like i can't remember what it's called, like when you start liking someone because they saved you? like transference. so they would start seeing each other and wifey would have such a great view of him for saving her like she would have never realized that she should maybe be scared. and also pre-prison pope, i mean we don't actually know what he was like, but my best guess is a little less hardened, maybe a tiny bit softer? and i like this idea since she would have seen the good before the bad, kind of concedes on all the rest as she finds it out since she knows how good he is. i can also imagine a really intense moment would be when he comes home to her after some job and he's covered in bruises and has like five grand in a bag and she's just like andrew? and i think he would maybe open up but in his own way, like "my family and i do bad things. are you sure you still want me here?"

also MEETING THEM!!!!! pope gets shot on a job and it's one of those where they need help but not, like, tijuana help, and craig's genius idea is like kidnap a doctor leaving the hospital but pope just hands him his phone and says to call the first number on speed dial- ohh can you imagine when wifey shows up with her little supplies and trembling head to toe because her bf is hurt!!! and she's meeting his whole family but she can't worry about that until she stops the bleeding. she gives the vibe of like making pope take a couple of shots of tequila to help the pain and then taking one herself so her hands stop shaking. and then when he's patched up they'd hug and the others would stare at each other like o_o i'm very silly unfortunately i thrive on imagining things in my head until a lovely person on this blog asks me to elaborate and then i go crazy. but wait! there's more!

baz would be concerned about how much you know. do you know about previous jobs? do you know what they do to launder the money? does he give you any money? and i think pope would be so mad at this line of questioning, like you're secretly an informant or something. i think deran would just be confused, but starts piecing things together, like how pope's been more stable, maybe works at a car place in his free time and doesn't freak out (they mentioned this in season four i think). that would be because he wants wifey to be able to say that her bf has a steady job. idk i think it's cute. craig would probably try to hit on her and after realizing that wifey is uninterested, he would think that you two must be really serious. like i appreciated how perceptive craig is in s4 of pope, i think that might hold true back then too. he'd be confused why someone like wifey is dating him but then again they all are. (because its my favorite trope! i see that anyone who is still reading this far down can sense that.)

i talked about wifey and smurf. obviously smurf would host a family dinner and tell pope that he has to invite his new friend. doesn't say girlfriend, which irritates pope, but he complies. wifey shows up in a cute sundress, with dessert, and a bottle of wine because she doesn't want to be seen as rude for coming empty-handed. sits next to pope, holds his hand under the table. he squeezes your hand while you get questioned but you don't mind, you'd do it for him. i think smurf just assumes it's not gonna last because you seem shy and easily scared, but she doesn't actually know what you and pope have, so. again, i'll leave whatever issues wifey reader has up to the reader to decide. but whatever they may be, she finds it very healing and safe to be with pope, and so in whatever way she is fixing him, he is fixing her too. that's what i think the others don't get.

okay, if you read this far, wow, thank you and i love you. i hope this made sense. if you were imagining something else please let me know i would love to (clearly) talk about it <3

[marisandini-chu-blog]

EPISODE 4 TBHX LET'S GO!!!!!

A quick word before we begin; just to establish my mindset and expectation as I watch this. Particularly about the Trust Value.

I've mention this before in previous posts how there's nothing wrong with Heroism; the desire to be popular and notice, with the performance that comes with it.

Image is important. Image is a tool. Heroism push people to do good, even with shallow intention, and the people who receive help would not have cared if they were genuine or not.

There is good in heroism the same way there is good in being able to enjoy a good music from an artist we love. Excited for youtubers making content to teach and spread joy in a community they establish. For TV personalities be able to spread good message and bring awareness for people to come together and point their energy for a good cause.

It's not always vain in wanting to be popular.

Which is why it becomes a problem when a capitalist system tries to monetize a virtue. When people enable a toxic culture without calling them out. When trust becomes a cage.

So I'm looking forward to Lin Ling's finale and the conclusion of his arc; will he change or will the system change?

Will Lin Ling put trust on the people who still relies on him? Vise versa, will the people keep their trust even when his image has change?

Now... let's begin.

Of course God Eye aim his attack the moment Nice is at the Top 10. That petty bitch

"The Moon has to be a played actor" Oh no... I feel called out

God Eye, you want to show reality to the world and yet you're denying your own truth; which is that you are a petty bitch

WHAT THE FUCK?! HE CAN'T LEAVE?!

God, I wish I had save the post, but there was someome who mention how the Trust Value makes a hero's body a cage while their mind is still free — this fits with how Nice's body doesn't want to go outside but his mind wrestle to save Moon

Oh God, I don't know how to feel about this. Maybe I am bias, but I would feel terrible if my trust and faith is taking his free will away — and we've seen how the people would rather have the hero save people than their image in the previous episode. There's definitely people who want Nice to save Xiao Yueqing, but they're drown out by the majority

MISS J YOU'RE NOT JUST ERASING MOON'S MEMORIES, YOU'RE ERASING LIN LING'S VERY EXISTENCE WITH THAT CHOICE! NOOOOOOOOOO!

Urgh, this is why I hate God Eye's whole schick. He's basically a papparrazi trying to create the next buzz even at the expense of someone

Ooooooh, I like how God Eye is not just changing the Public's perception of him. But also the Blaster's perception of himself and the animation SHOWS!

YEAH, LIN LING! YOU'RE NOT NICE! GO BE A HERO!

Hoooooooly?! I didn't think Lin Ling is gonna reveal all the truth?

You know what's ironic? As it is to be break people's trust? It's not that hard to gain their trust

A youtuber named Aliciaxlife (check her out, she's great) also react to this. And ome of the things she shared was at the start, she creates a persona for the public that becomes stiffling overtime. When she decides to break it and be more genuine (read: meaner😆), her views plummeted for a while before it rise back up

So even though it's over dramatic, hasten and simplified – this kind of stuff does happen. That if you're willing to be genuine and spoke out for the right thing, people will always root for justice

Lin Ling's fight is sooooo ugly, I LIVE FOR IT!!!

Okay, so Lin Ling shootingup into Top 10 level is a bit of a strech, ngl. There should be a lot of people scrutinizing

I FUCKING KNEW SHE WAS FAKE!!!

THE COMMONER?! FUCKING COMMONER? WHO THE HELL IS COMING UP WITH THE LAME ASS NAMES? FIRM MAN IS BAD ENOUGH ALREADY!

Okay, having people who fakes things get faster gratification can be annoying. At that point, I can understand God Eye's perspective

God Eye could actually make a good point if he decided to put all that energy to be less annoying a better version of himself instead of tearing other people down.

For someone who begrudge a hero who fakes himself, he seems too surprise at seeing the truth push Lin Ling stronger. Maybe perhaps people fake themselves because people like you who likes to pull people down with the truth? Ever think of that, God Eye?

Xiao Yueqing becoming a hermit is not what I expected from her

WTF?! SHE ACCIDENTALLY PUT HERSELF IN AN ABANDON ISLAND?! I SHOULDN'T LAUGH BUT GIRRRRRLLLL!!!!

It fits her character though. Of course she jumps and didn't think twice

The definition of be careful what you wish for

Lin Ling, I don't know how you work that teleporter gun, and I don't care to know. Just get her out of this island, I think she has enough...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I heard about Director Li's reputation but...

WHAT THE FUCK?!

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

AFTER AN ENTIRE EPISODE DEDICATE TO NOT LET HER BE AN ACCESSORY TO A HERO - YOU FRIDGE HER?!?!?!

The worst part is? I can't even hate it! WE'VE BEEN WARNED FROM THE FIRST EPISODE!!!

Episode 3 React

[emrysmerlinambrose]

Inspired by @goatgoesmbe 's Muslim Gaz as well as them encouraging me on my other account so I'm gonna write some Jewish Ghost head cannons. I'm gonna write some Jewish Ghost x Jewish Reader later but I have class in the morning so later.

Since he's a brit he's almost definitely Ashkenazi but honestly I'm probably gonna mix and match some stuff cause I like having other diaspora rep.

Ashkenazi

His mother is Jewish and his dad is an Anti-theist

Raised general Orthodox but went off the derech as he got older

Still holds a special place in his heart for aspects of orthodoxy because he always associated it with his mom and the soft kindness of his community

First language is Yiddish (yes I know it's not common anymore shush)

Had a really thick Yiddish accent as a kid but it's become much more of a mix of Yiddish and Manc the less he's spoken it. He's somehow becomes less understandable because of that though.

Sits somewhere between Masorti and Reconstructionist but likes going to Masorti services cause they are long and slow

Prays every single day. You bet he's getting up even before the ass crack of dawn to make sure he can pray in the morning. A rookie caught him praying the tefillin once and no one would believe them.

Doesn't consistently wear a magen David but always has a mezuzah necklace that he refuses to take off

Had a fully shaved head minus his peyot for a while but no one would have ever known cause it was under his mask

Sleeps in a kippah cause he got so used to doing it as a kid he can't sleep without it now

Karaite (because I am)

His mom very heavily infused him with pride in his identity and to never conform no matter how many people told him he should

His mom is an Egyptian Karaite and immigrated from Egypt

Because of his mom he speaks Judeo-arabic fluently (which no one ever expects cause he got his dad's translucent skin)

Felt super out of place with the other Jews in the military since he was the only Karaite

Didn't know how to tell people when he was earlier into his service that he didn't celebrate Hanukkah cause it's a Rabbinic holiday (especially since it was the only one people ever bring up and/or know). As he got more confident he just very bluntly tells people and has to hold in his laughter when it makes them extremely uncomfortable.

Loves to talk shit in Arabic with Muslim Gaz even though neither of them are supposed to.

Confused the ever loving fuck out of the rest of the 141 when they saw him praying for the first time. "I thought you were Jewish?" "I am" "then what the hell was that?". (Karaites pray very similarly to Muslims).

Wears his mom's very feminine magen David that she gave him before he was shipped off for the first time and refuses to take it off. He truly believes it's the only thing keeping him alive through it all.

Is extremely superstitious. He has multiple amulets and prayers tattooed because he never wants to even possibly lose one and be left bare.

Gives various curses out as he's doing jobs that work surprisingly well. Wishing every evil eye upon someone or for their name to be erased from life and memory tends to strike a certain message.

He also has Oseh Shalom tattooed cause even though he is a soldier all he truly wants is peace

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

ok I can definitely say HOW I'd go out, which I usually wear a black dress, a bit frilly and flowy, but short. My hair is black, wavy and long and I put it on a ponytail with a black lace ribbon. I wear a ton of accessories like rings, a black beaded rosary as a necklace and usually 3 pairs of earrings (I got like 6 pierced holes in my ears lmao). I'm midsized, so a bit chubby and short.

I guess you can tell I'm a bit goth-adjacent lol but my makeup usually isn't that heavy. I do have over 12 tattoos though.

As for how I'd try to rizz them......... I'm so bad at trying to rizz 😭 I think I'd just try to strike up a conversation and keep staring at them as they talk and being very touchy maybe?? I can't flirt with words to save my life tbh 🧍🏻‍♀️ my favorite cod man is Soap but idk if I'd pull him being gloomy and quiet LMAO

first of all..... hey. how you doin bb ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Soap is right up your alley tbh. he likes you because you're a little intimidating to other dudes (so, a challenge). he likes a lady who looks like she might have claws.

catch him trying to compare tattoos. he tells you he'll show you the rest of his back at his place. he's not even subtle about it.

intimidating stare? he'll hold it. even if it's scary. he's completely chaotic, you know him. doesn't matter if you look like a bad idea; he's all about making those.

the good news is once you start touching him... feeling up his arms and stuff, it's game over, and he's definitely ready to haul your ass out of the bar and back to his place.

not to mention the dress you're wearing. that catches his eye in a big way. he really wants to get his hands up under there to figure out what else you are (or aren't) wearing. you'll be lucky if he waits until the lyft/taxi makes it back to his place before he starts getting real handsy around your skirt.

also he's gonna pull your hair. and pick you up and manhandle you around. just sayingggg <3 <3

more Soap / masterlist

[gomzdrawfr]

Things I've said (out loud and in my head) when I'm wearing dem fuckass contact lenses:

GET IT IN!!!! WHY WON'T YOU GO IN?! STOP SLIPPING OUT!!! MTF STOP BENDING!!! GO IN!!!

oh my god why do you keep sticking to my finger

oh oh it's IN *blinks* *it slips out* FUCKKKKKKK

*eyes tearing up and my eyelid hurts* look at you, pathetic

*angry deep breath and then calm*

*watch another video tutorial, from youtube then xhs back to youtube* what do you mean you can show all your whites my eyes aren't 20% your size

*another deep breath* okay it's literally a piece of jelly thing it's not spikes it's not even going to explode why are you panicking? why are you running? JUST DO IT. PUT IT IN. LET IT IN.

think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing think about Price and Ghost kissing—*slips in* OH MY GOD IT WORKED

*stares at the mirror in amazement while smiling like an idiot*

*immediately dread at the second eye* oh my god here we fucking go again why oh my days

*realize I can't pull the other eyelid up as much as the first eye* oh my fucking- is this really it-

*deep breath again* *stares dead ahead in the mirror* imagine Price beside me right now he's going to be extremely disappointed if I can't even do something as simple as putting a flimsy piece of lens into my eyes

*slips in* LETS GO woah this is weir-AAAAAAAAAAAAA it burns IT BURNS WHY DOES IT BURN SHOULD I TAKE IT OUT *rapid blinking* no wait hold on woah the mirror is clear wait i can read the barcode of my toothpaste WOAH

*stares at the mirror for god knows how long* are my eyes bigger?

*goes out while wearing them* everything is clear *blinks* okay everything is not clear *blinks* okay it's clear again why does this feel like im going 1080p to 720p with a shitty wifi?

I can feel them. Don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it

The very ends of both my eyes are blurry, should I be concerned

I feel very naked (never realized how much I rely on my glasses to cover areas around my eyes)

*does the push glasses up thing forgetting I'm not wearing my glasses* I'm a clown

*stares at reflection* oh shit- that is me? oh woah that is me

Is it obvious I'm wearing them? why is everyone staring at me- did it moved? did the lens move and now I look like an idiot? (proceeds to overthink and be self-conscious, the lens did not move at all)

*reads up more info about contact lenses and realize I didn't soak them in some liquid for 4 hours before wearing them* *starts thinking about the eye doctor again*

I am fine. This is fine. Look at me I look okay I look normal. I'm totally normal.

*looks at something far* woah I can read that! (could do the same thing with my specs but for some reason is fascinated)

friend: "do you feel dryness or itchiness yet?" me: yet? you mean it's gonna happen??? (it has not happen)

*reads up more about contact lenses stuff and getting confused at the amount of liquids brand out there*

*goes home and stare at the mirror again*

Overall 6/10 experience, I would try to wear them again (for now)

Things I've said (out loud and in my head) when I'm trying to take out dem fuckass contact lenses:

oh my god I can't take it out

*watch another 4-8 tutorial videos again*

what do you mean I need to touch it and pinch it out. What- WHAT I NEED TO PINCH IT??? I'M NOT TOUCHING MY EYE LIKE THAT-

what do you mean you can blink it out.

*tries to blink it out and it didnt work and feel like my eyeballs are about to fall out*

*felt like crying but force myself not to because Idk if you should do that when you're wearing lenses*

*tries another 3-4 times and failing*

*sits down on the toilet tile and think about which eye doctor I need to contact and which hospital I can go by train, reciting the emergency number a few times*

*opens socmed to distract myself*

no no fuck you you're overthinking again calm da fak down it's A PIECE. OF. JELLY THINGY.

get up. do the thing. do it scared.

*silently screaming as my index finger slowly reaches for my eyes* I CANT DO THIS

BUT I'M GONNA *touches eye* OH MY DAYS I HATE IT *force myself to slowly slide the contact lens even if it feels extremely uncomfortable*

*starts singing the national anthem FOR SOME REASON* TANAH TUMPAHNYA DARAHHHH KUUUU *finally slide it to the sclera and blinks it out*

*panting like I've ran a thousand miles staring at the folded lens* fuck yoUUUUUUUU *puts it away and looks at the mirror*

oh my god my eye is red, is that normal? should I be concerned? *checks eye*

*stares at the mirror dreading the second eye*

*repeat cycle above with just as much anxiety and stress*

*singing the national anthem did not work this time* *starts thinking about which eye doctor to see again*

*deep breath* listen. if you can take off this last piece. we can...w-we can have pudding, okay? (we don't have pudding, also there's no we it's only me)

*slowly reach for my eyes* *silently screaming*

*realize it doesn't feel as uncomfortable with the other eyes* oh *slowly sliding it to the side then blinks it out*

*it immediately falls to the ground* YEAH you stay down

*looks at mirror* okay this eye isn't red

ah fuck everything's 360p again where's my specs?

Overall 0/10 experience I'm not wearing them again (I still have one more set, I will in fact, wear them again)

[dreaminofdixon]

Thirteen.

*Things are heating up, nothing too serious at the moment, but if you're underage, please...be responsible for your own media intake. :)* Okay, so adding all the Daryl insight/thoughts stuff might be a little....incorrectly done? I've never written first person with third person intermingled, so I'm sure it leaves some to be desired. BUT! I like it. And ohhhhh momma....I'm going back through and adding that all in - those that suggested I keep it up - you're the real heroes. 💖 Also - this is SO LONG.

The highway stretched out like a scar across the earth, its cracked asphalt glinting under the fading light as we took the exit Daryl had been scanning for. The motorcycle rumbled beneath us, a steady pulse that felt like the last heartbeat of a world long gone. We were heading toward whatever future waited—maybe salvation, maybe just another fight. The sun sank lower, bleeding pinks and oranges across the sky, chasing away the last traces of blue. It was beautiful in a way that hurt, like a memory you know you can’t keep. I tightened my knees around Daryl’s hips, the leather of his vest rough under my palms, and reached up to tug the hair tie from my ponytail. My hair whipped free, tangling in the wind, wild and reckless. I must’ve looked half-feral, but in that moment, I didn’t care. How often did we get to feel this alive anymore? To steal a second of freedom in a world that wanted to grind us to dust?

Daryl felt the shift in her as she moved behind him - her thighs gripping him tighter, the sudden looseness of her hair snapping in the breeze. He didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge it outright, but he noticed. Always did. Every detail: the way her fingers curled into his vest, the faint catch of her laugh barely audible over the engine’s growl. God, she’s alive, he thought, the realization hitting him like a punch. Not just surviving, not just scraping by—she was vibrant, a spark in a world gone dark. He hadn’t seen that in anyone for a long time, and it stirred something in him he wasn’t sure he wanted to name.

The bike slowed as Daryl eased it to a stop, the others pulling up behind us in a loose caravan—Rick’s SUV, the RV, a couple of battered sedans. I took the chance to rake my fingers through my hair, savoring the cool whip of the wind for one more moment before twisting it back into a messy bun. When Daryl swung the bike around, I gripped his vest tighter, steadying myself as we rolled toward Rick’s SUV.

“You thinkin’ we should call it a night,” Rick called out, leaning out the driver’s window, his voice cutting through the hum of idling engines.

“Yeah,” Daryl grunted, his voice low but sure. “Not sure anything’s ‘round here.”

“Alright, let’s do it.” Rick nodded, killing the engine with a decisive twist of the key.

Daryl guided the bike back toward the RV, the gravel crunching under the tires as he eased it to a stop and dropped the kickstand. The sudden silence felt heavy, broken only by the distant chirp of cicadas and the creak of the RV’s door.

“What’s goin’ on?” Dale’s voice carried from the RV’s window, his silhouette framed against the dim glow of a lantern inside.

“Gonna call it a night here,” I said, taking Daryl’s outstretched hand as I swung my leg over the bike. My boots hit the ground harder than I meant, and I wobbled, my legs stiff from hours of riding. 

His hand tightened briefly, steadying her just enough to keep her upright without making it a thing. He never made it a thing—never let her feel like he doubted she could handle herself. But part of him just needed that touch—to feel that she was okay, that she was here.

We moved as a group, muscle memory kicking in as we cleared the abandoned cars scattered along the roadside. Headlights cast long shadows, turning rusted fenders and shattered windshields into jagged silhouettes. Every creak of metal, every rustle in the underbrush, set my nerves on edge, but the routine was familiar: check for walkers, secure the perimeter, make a space to breathe for one more night. By the time we finished, the sky had deepened to a bruised purple, stars prickling through the haze.

We gathered beside the RV, the air thick with the scent of dust and pine. Carol and Lori passed out the last of our supplies—strips of jerky, a few dented cans of vegetables. I perched on the hood of a dusty sedan, the metal cool against my thighs, and stared down at the can of corn in my hand. My stomach churned at the thought of eating it cold, the kernels glistening like pale teeth in the moonlight. It felt… wrong, like biting into a raw potato or something. I sighed, setting the can aside and reaching for the jerky instead, its smoky tang a small comfort.

Around me, the group murmured in low tones, their voices blending with the rustle of leaves. I glanced at them—Rick’s tense shoulders, Lori’s careful smile, Glenn’s quick laugh—and felt a pang of gratitude, sharp and fleeting. We were still here, still fighting. But the weight of the day pressed down on me, and I slid off the hood, grabbing my can of corn and heading toward the car I’d claimed for the night. As I walked, a thin curl of smoke caught my eye, rising from the bed of a pickup parked a little ways off. I grinned, spotting the faint glow of a cigarette. Daryl. If I weren’t half-convinced he’d skin me for it, I’d have tried to sneak up and scare him, just to see that rare flash of a smile.

“Hey, stud,”  I called softly, approaching the truck.

He looked relaxed, sprawled in the truck bed like he belonged there. His crossbow rested within arm’s reach, but his posture was loose—knees bent, one foot planted, hands folded over his stomach, cigarette dangling from his lips. The moonlight carved sharp angles across his face, catching the scruff on his jaw and the faint lines etched around his eyes. He looked up, ifting his chin in a lazy greeting.

“Princess,” he drawled, voice rough like gravel.

“Hold this,” I said, passing him the can of corn.

He took it without comment, his fingers brushing mine for a split second. I climbed over the tailgate, settling beside him against the back of the truck, my knees bent and my hands resting lightly on my thighs. He handed the can back, and we sat there, the silence wrapping around us like a worn blanket. The air smelled of rust and tobacco, undercut by the faint sweetness of wild honeysuckle growing somewhere nearby.

Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye, her presence settling into the space like it belonged. She was close—too close, maybe—but he didn’t move away. Couldn’t. She was like gravity, pulling at something deep in his chest, something he hadn’t let himself feel in years. He’d spent so long pushing people back, keeping them at arm’s length, but her? She slipped past his walls like they were nothing. Always had.

“Long day,” I said, breaking the quiet.

“Mm.” He nodded, holding the cigarette out toward me, an offer.

“No, thank you.”

He glanced over his shoulder, one brow quirking slightly. “Don’t smoke?”

“Nope.”

He hummed, taking another drag and turning back to the sky, like it didn’t matter. But it did. Every damn thing about her mattered—her voice, her laugh, the way she sat there, unafraid of the silence. He felt it all, and it scared the hell out of him.

“You look comfy,” I said, nudging his leg with my boot. “This where you’re stayin’ tonight?”

“Nah. Jus’ for a minute.”

“Time to relax a little?”

“Mm hmm.”

Her voice was soft, weaving through the quiet without breaking it. He liked that—how she didn’t demand anything, just let the moment be. The cicadas sang in the distance, their chorus rising and falling like a pulse. The air was cooling, carrying the first whispers of fall, and for a second, he could almost pretend the world wasn’t falling apart.

“Thanks for lettin’ me ride with you,” I said, a teasing lilt creeping into my voice. “It was a pleasure gettin’ you between my legs all day…”

He glanced over, the corner of his mouth twitching before he looked away, quick. Goddamn woman. Always poking at him, testing him. He snorted, fighting the smile tugging at his lips. She had no idea what she did to him—how she threw him off balance just by existing. He felt like a kid again, all nerves and heat, trying not to stare at her too long.

“How was it?” he asked, his voice low, rougher than he meant.

“Not bad,” I said, leaning closer, my hip brushing his shoulder. “Although… I could use a little more… hands-on.”

His chest tightened, the air catching in his throat. He exhaled a slow stream of smoke toward the stars, trying to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. Jesus. She was gonna kill him, talking like that. He shook his head, muttering, “Ya got yer hands all over me, woman. What more ya want?”

“I’m talkin’ about your hands on me, sir.”

He froze, his breath hitching before he masked it with a cough. He didn’t know how to answer that—not without giving too much away. Not without admitting how much he wanted to touch her, to pull her close and feel her heartbeat against his. She was dangerous, not because of walkers or weapons, but because she made him want things he’d buried long ago. He liked her too much—her teasing, her warmth, the way she looked at him like he was more than a rough-edged survivor. But letting her in? That was a risk he wasn’t sure he could take.

I let the silence stretch, remembering that old psychology trick: don’t fill the space just because it’s uncomfortable. Let them come to you. I tilted my head back, gazing at the sky. The stars glittered like scattered diamonds, sharp and bright against the velvet dark. The cicadas’ song wove through the breeze, carrying hints of cooler days to come. My heart was racing, but I kept still, waiting.

His fingers brushed my ankle, the skin that peeked out from the hem of my jeans. They were hesitant at first, then settled there. His thumb moved in a slow, careful arc across my skin, warm and calloused. Then, just as suddenly, his hand stilled, like he’d caught himself—like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me at all.

He hadn’t meant to. He’d fought the urge all day, keeping his hands busy with the bike, the knife, anything to distract him. But sitting there, the space between them alive with something unspoken, he gave in. Her skin was soft, warm, and his thumb moved before he could stop it. He knew he should pull back, tell himself it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything, and that scared him more than any walker ever would.

I held my breath, afraid that even the smallest sound would break the spell. His touch was electric, sending sparks through me, my pulse hammering in my throat. Don’t be that girl, I scolded myself. Don’t make it all about the physical. But God, I couldn’t help it. After years of loneliness, of keeping everyone at arm’s length, that simple touch felt like a lifeline.

He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes fixed on the sky, but I could feel him—every shift, every breath. I’d gotten used to this, to him. To the way we could sit together, not saying much, but saying everything. My attraction to him had started as something shallow—those sharp cheekbones, that quiet strength—but it had grown into something deeper, a full-blown ache that followed me everywhere. I wanted to be near him, to find excuses to talk, to learn every piece of him. Did he feel it too? I hoped so, but hope was a dangerous thing these days.

His fingers tightened briefly, then loosened, his thumb still brushing my skin. With his other hand, he plucked the cigarette from his lips, crushing the ember between his fingers before tossing it over the side of the truck. The gesture was so him—careful, deliberate, like he didn’t trust even the smallest spark to linger.

We sat there as the light faded, the world sinking into darkness. The moon rose, silver and cold, casting shadows across the truck bed. His hand stayed on my ankle, that slow, steady touch anchoring me. I was already dreading the moment it would end, knowing the dark brought danger—walkers, shadows, things that didn’t care about stolen moments.

Daryl’s chest rose with a slow breath, his exhale barely audible, like he was fighting to keep himself steady. He was thinking about her—too much, too deeply. What if she didn’t feel the same? What if this fragile thing between them shattered before it could take root? He’d survived a lot, but he wasn’t sure he could survive that.

His hand slid away, the warmth vanishing, but not before his fingers brushed my skin one last time, like he was reluctant to let go. He sat up abruptly, clearing his throat. “Should get ya tucked in,” he muttered, his voice rougher than usual. His eyes avoided hers, darting to the horizon, the truck bed, anywhere else. Because if he looked at her, he might say something he couldn’t take back. Might reach for her and not stop. And he wasn’t sure if she was ready—or even if he was.

I reached for his hand, clasping it between both of mine as he pulled me up. The motion was too quick, and I stumbled, my body crashing into his. He didn’t budge, solid as stone, and I gasped softly at the sudden closeness. His breath hitched, his eyes dropping to my lips, my throat, before he caught himself. His tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip, and I saw the struggle in his face—wanting, holding back.

“Sorry,” I murmured, stepping back, my cheeks burning.

The air between us felt alive, charged with everything we weren’t saying. Then a low, guttural groan cut through the night—a walker, close. We both snapped toward the sound, the moment shattered. Daryl vaulted over the tailgate, his knife already in hand. The walker was alone, its decayed face grotesque in the moonlight. He drove the blade into its skull with a practiced thrust, the body crumpling to the ground. He wiped the knife on the walker’s tattered shirt, his movements quick and precise, before turning back to me.

I was already climbing over the tailgate, ready to jump down, but he was there, his hand outstretched. I took it, his grip steady as he helped me to the ground. The contact lingered for a heartbeat longer than it needed to.

“C’mon, Princess,” he said, letting go and nodding toward the car I’d chosen for the night.

We walked in silence, the gravel crunching under our boots. When we reached the car, I opened the door and slid inside, pulling the blanket over my legs. Daryl stood at the door, his head on a swivel, scanning the shadows for threats.

“Good?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Mm hmm.”

“Lock the door. Get some sleep.”

“I’ll try… you too, okay?”

He started to close the door, but I reached out, stopping it. “What?”

“Be safe.”

“Always am.”

He shut the door, the click loud in the quiet. I locked it, settling back against the seat, the blanket scratchy but warm. Through the window, I watched his silhouette linger for a moment, his crossbow slung over his shoulder, his posture tense but steady.

He stood there longer than he meant to, her words echoing in his head. Be safe. Like he was more than a survivor, more than a weapon. Like he mattered to her. The thought burned, sweet and painful, and he hated how much he wanted to believe it. His eyes lingered on her shape in the car, curled under the blanket, safe for now. He wanted to be the one to keep her that way, but that meant letting her in, and he wasn’t sure he knew how.

Finally, he turned, forcing his boots to move. The night was dark, the walkers were out there, and he had a job to do. But her voice followed him, soft and stubborn, refusing to let go.

**

@imadisneyprincessiswear

@knight-of-the-doctor **

[cosmic-kid-in-motion]

hey, i donated to stonewall housing for the event. i remember you talking about a trans man clint piss kink idea at some point, could i request that?

Ofc!!!

This is for Love Will Abide, my fandom fundraiser event! Thanks so much for donating! I think a queer drabble is perfect for a queer event! I assume you mean me talking about trans man x clint, but if you mean trans clint I'm down for that too! Just lmk <3

Pretty Boy

Clint Flood X transmasc!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Clint fucks you until you pee. Send tweet.

Warnings: PIV sex, reader is afab trans masc, piss kink <3 both being the pisser and the piss-e, f-slur but lovingly, mentions of anal fisting, gapping asshole, everything is assumed to have consent.

Shout out to my beloved @pedge-page, the piss queen. I eagerly await to see some piss kink Clint from you <3

More gross weird Clint stuff, you say? Puke kink, foot fetish, armpit sniffing/licking

Tagging my usuals, plus some I thought might enjoy. If piss or trans masc content isn't for you, go ahead and ignore!

300 words

***

"Not yet, baby boy, not yet..." Clint coos, stroking your face gently with those large hands he has as if he doesn't have you writhing under him with a full bladder and ready to cum. Clint jokes he used to have a fist of fury, and now it's "just a hand👋 " But it felt like a fist when all 5 knuckles were shoved up your asshole 5 minutes ago.

You were left gapping, and as Clint rails your other hole he likes to watch your asshole move and throb and try to close.

"God, I wish you could see yourself how I see you right now..." There's a hint of wonder there that was so reverent as he fucked you, it sounded like it belonged in a church, not in your bedroom, completely debased and sweaty and-

"Clint I swear to god I'm about to pee!"

He swats your ass lightly, reprimanding your attitude.

His voice was darker now, more firm, less room for being a brat. "Not until I'm done fucking this boy cunt, got it?"

"I c-can't!"

Gripping your hips, Clint sighs and decides to have mercy on your, and begins slamming into you. "Fuck it, let it out. Gonna piss on my cock, fucking faggot? Or are you gonna cum?"

It was both. Your arms give out in the relief but you keep your ass up for him, your bussy throbbing and pulse around him as you pissed on his dick, Clint moaning as he slammed into you over and over again. Piss went everywhere, splattered around by the ferocity of his thrusts, a load growling as Clint reached his own climax above you.

"Tell me what you are!!" he grunts, slapping your ass again. "Say it!"

"I'm your f-faggot!" The aftershocks of your orgasm are still pulsing, fingers twitch as the bliss reaches all extremities in waves of pleasure. "Yours!"

"Who owns this boycunt?"

"You! You own my holes!"

When Clint pulls out, he's not content with one hole being dripping with his mess. Aiming his cock as your, Clint pisses into your gapping asshole. You feel the warm liquid inside you, filling you and then overflowing to drip down your still-shaking legs.

You lay there on the bed, covered in him and your own sick fantasy.

***

thanks for reading!!! I have a problem, i havn't even watched this yet and he consumes me ;-;

@miraclesabound @hornystan @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @slamminslamminmcgill

[yyaktayak]

Heart& Soul -2🥢

tags ! : 🏷️ @uceyliyahh @charmed-dreamssss @amandairene88 @duhitzkay380 @prettypink-princesss @bluestrawberrypatch @mjonthetrack @christinabae @transparentphantomface 🏷️lmk if you’d like to be tagged ! I’ll add u!!🏷️.

Giannis's POV

The stream ended with a bang. Her viewers were hyped, and the comment section was filled with heart-eye emojis, shipping her and Jimmy like crazy. But now that the screen was dark, and she was left in the quiet of her bedroom, a strange feeling lingered in the air—like something had shifted. It wasn't just the usual flirty back-and-forth with a guest. No, there was something different about the way Jimmy had looked at her, the way his words had landed just right, pulling at something deeper.

She sat back in her chair, checking her phone to see the flood of notifications from her followers, but there was one message that stood out—an unread text from a number she didn't recognize.

| Unknown

| Yo, Giannis. It's Jimmy. Had a blast tonight. You keep it 100, and I gotta admit, I'm impressed. Hope we can keep this going outside of the stream. Hit me up if you're down.

Giannis stared at the message for a few moments, biting her lip. It was casual, but there was something in the words, something in the way he didn't push her but still made it clear he wanted to talk more. Keep this going outside of the stream—the way he phrased it felt different from just a regular collab.

| Giannis🤍

| For sure. Had fun too. But I warn you, I'm a lot more than just a stream personality. Hope you're ready for the real Giannis.

She didn't wait long before his reply came in.

| Jimmy💙

| Trust me, I'm built for it. But, real talk—after tonight, I'm starting to think I might need a little more than a stream to keep up with you.

Giannis felt a little thrill shoot through her at the casual but confident tone of his message. She smirked, knowing exactly how to respond.

| Giannis🤍

| Is that a challenge, honey?

The phone buzzed almost immediately.

| Jimmy💙|

I wouldn't say it's a challenge ma. More like a warning. you'll figure that out soon enough.

She laughed softly to herself, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. This wasn't just playful banter anymore—it was like the walls between them had lowered, leaving room for something a little more personal. She wasn't sure if it was the flirtation, or if it was something deeper—something in the way he spoke to her. It felt real, not forced. And that was rare for her. She wasn't used to people being so direct with her, so sure of themselves, but Jimmy's confidence didn't come off as cocky. It was... just him being himself.

| Giannis🤍

| You really think you're ready for this side of me? You'll be surprised.

Her phone pinged with his reply, and she felt her pulse pick up just a little.

Jimmy💙

I like surprises. Especially when I know I'm gonna be the one to pull them off. Trust, I'll keep up. You don't have to worry about me.

Giannis smiled, her heart racing for reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was something about his words, something about the way he didn't back down. He was drawing her in, piece by piece.

| Giannis🤍

| We'll see about that,"* she texted back. *"But I gotta ask... why the sudden interest in me? You've got your fans, your world... why take the time to talk to me?

She wasn't expecting an immediate response, but his reply came almost instantly.

| Jimmy💙

| Because you're different. You don't need to try hard. And honestly, I've been following your stuff for a while. I like how you move. You're real. People like that, especially in my world. Trust me, I know fake when I see it.

The words hit her like a wave, and for a moment, she found herself staring at the screen. *I know fake when I see it*—she appreciated that. It was hard to find genuine people, especially in the kind of industry she was in. But Jimmy's words felt like a validation. Not just about who she was online, but who she was beneath the surface.

| Giannis🤍

| You really think that? I mean, you don't know me like that yet.

His response was quick, and this time, his tone seemed a little softer.

| Jimmy💙

| I don't need to know everything to see what's real. You ain't putting on no show, Giannis. I can tell. And if you ever let someone close enough to see the real you, I think they'd be lucky to have that.

She felt a warm rush through her chest, her fingers typing quickly before she could stop herself.

| Giannis🤍

| Well, if you want to see the real me, you're gonna have to work for it.

Jimmy's response came with that familiar confidence, but this time it was laced with something else—something almost like sincerity.

| Jimmy💙

| I've never been one to shy away from putting in the work. You'll see. I'm not going anywhere.

Giannis couldn't help but smile at that. It was simple, but it felt like he was making a promise. And for some reason, she believed it. She had always kept her guard up, not letting anyone too close, especially guys who only saw her for the online persona she built. But Jimmy was different. He wasn't pushing, he wasn't trying too hard. He was just... there.

| Giannis🤍

|!Alright then. Guess we'll see what happens.

A few moments passed before he replied, and this time, his words hit a little harder.

| Jimmy💙

| Giannis, remember this: you don't have to be perfect. Just be real with me. That's all I need.

Her heart thudded against her chest. There was something so raw, so disarming in his message, that for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. It was the kind of honesty she wasn't used to receiving—especially not from someone she barely knew.

| Giannis🤍

I can do that

| Just don’t be surprised when you realize I’m not what you expected

The reply came in quick again, but there was something different in the way he phrased it. Like he was offering a challenge of his own.

|Jimmy💙

| I'm not looking for perfection, Giannis. I'm looking for you. And I've got a feeling you're exactly what I need right now. So don't worry about me being surprised.

The words lingered in her mind long after she set the phone down. For the first time in a while, she felt something deeper than just the thrill of flirting, of playful back-and-forth. It was like Jimmy saw her—*really* saw her—and she wasn't sure if she was ready for that. But somehow, she wasn't scared.

She didn't need to be perfect. She just needed to be herself.

And with Jimmy, she might just be able to do that.

---

Jimmy's POV

The night after the stream, Jimmy couldn't get Giannis off his mind. It wasn't just the way she looked on camera, the way she made every word sound like a challenge. It wasn't even the way she flirted with him, letting him think he had a shot. No, it was the honesty behind her eyes, the way she didn't play the game most people did.

And that was what had him hooked.

He didn't need her to be perfect. Hell, no one in his world was perfect. But with Giannis, he felt like he could be real—just *real* with her. That wasn't something he got often. And the more they texted, the more he realized he wasn't just looking for some casual thing. He was looking for something deeper.

He sat on his couch, staring at his phone. He'd been debating for a while, but finally, he typed out the message that felt right.

"Giannis, remember this: you don't have to be perfect. Just be real with me. That's all I need."

It wasn't just about her. It was about him too. He wasn't looking for someone to impress. He was just looking for someone to connect with. Someone who could understand what it was like to keep their guard up, to live in a world where everyone wore a mask.

And for the first time, Jimmy felt like he found someone who could see beyond his.

He sent the message and leaned back, waiting for her reply. Whatever came next, he knew one thing for sure: Giannis was worth the wait.

Heart&Soul

A/N: aye how y’all feel

[denkilightning]

HIHIHI I REALLY ENJOY ALL THE STUFF YOU SAY AND ANALYZE HERE ABOUT JAY AND SINCE YOU WATCHED S3P2 I REALLY WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS ON SOMETHING

DID YOU NOTICE HOW JAY REACTED WHEN LEE WANTED TO SHAKE HANDS???

It's been on my mind all dayyy. At first, I thought that there may be something about not touching Lee, but obviously, that wasn't the case since he probably would have warned the others about not touching him, so he really is refusing to make physical contact with anyone and Im just here screaming and crying like aaaargghhh his hands were shaking SO BAD like even nya was looking so confused GAHHHH who hurt my boy this baaaddd (screw you ras), touch averse jay is real omg😭😭😭

god I really wish the ninja were more patient and empathetic towards jay, the way they all keep pushing "oh that's not the ninja way", "oh you shattered your goodness", "oh you still don't have your memories"😒😒😒 (i can count like 10 instances of this stuff)

Like ik he was mean as hell too, but can you blame him really?? It felt like everyone was attacking him from all sides for every thing he does differently, like ofc he's gonna leave you😭😭

Judging by everyone I've seen talking about the leaks, everyone seems to agree that the ninja aren't treating him right either, so I'm really hoping that this is an intentional setup for them to realize this mistake and apologize to jay and maybe accept that this is who he is now and that despite everything, they still love him and care about him.

God. Those last 2 episodes could go in any direction and I am so scared

YEEEEEES THE HAND SHAKE SCENE YES YES YES ITS ON THE FOREFRONT OF MY MIND AT ALL FUCKING TIMES

The Entire Scene Is Like The Perfect Representation Of Jay Rogue

he says 'follow my lead' but then he watches carefully over lloyd and wyldfire making introductions and only steps in when absolutely necessary AND THEN THERES THE JAYA MOMENT AND THE FUCKING HANDSHAKE

imma go rewatch that scene just to analyse it better brb

REWATCHED THE SCENE AND OH MY GODS HIS HANDS ARE ACTUALLY SHAKING AND HE GENUINELY LOOKS SO SCARED

like you can tell hes forcing himself to accept the handshake until lee actually goes for it AND HE GENUINELY CANT FUCKING HELL

so he lies AND EVERYONE FALLS FOR THE FACADE INCLUDING NYA EVERYONE FALLS FOR THE FUCKING FACADE IM GONNA KILL MYSELF

and the worst part is hes actually okay with nyas touch and you know what she does in that scene??? SHE PUNCHES HIM AND THEN LAYS A HAND ON HIS BACK

and you can tell that shit hurt

and i wanna disclaim im not fucking calling nya abusive what i am saying is how fucking tragic that the only person jay can stand touching is someone whos beaten him and the only way he can accept normal touch is after being punched.

back to the handshake there is SO MUCH genuine fucking panic on his face I NEVER NOTICED BEFORE THAT HIS HANDS SHAKE AND ITS FUCKING BAD

he panics his hands are shaking and he makes up the 'count mccoolguy' on the spot AND GETS HIS HANDS AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE WITHOUT PHYSICALLY STEPPING AWAY

and about the ninja treating him badly YEAH IM GLAD EVERYONE AGREES ON THAT

but the thing is jay is FINE Hes Good The Scene Where Theyre Coming Back After The Painting Lessons And With Arins Parents and yes he can be overly mean and slightly cruel like when wyldifre sounded the alarm but the sentiment was right!! hes pointing out a genuine flaw that can be corrected hes just really fucking mean about it because cmon that guy was raised by ras, the fuck you expect

but the ninja keep on fucking triggering his trauma responses!!! you have a guy that has 'dont talk to me about who i was before the merge because im physically incapable of believing anything about it cus both of my abusers lied about This Exact Thing Before' And! They! Keep! Doing That!!!!!!

anyway im still holding out hope morro and jay are actually friends post merge Because Jay Desperately Needs SOMEONE to not treat him like infected garbage and morro needs a friend who wont see him as his past mistakes

[sometimesoliloquy]

Ok I lied, I'm gonna keep writing stuff about the episode (I need to rewatch and process more to accurately speak on some parts but):

Janine - Janine covered for Nick (I loved that). She knows exactly who Nick is and who he is to June. This means June has talked to Janine about Nick. Told her all about him. How they're in love. He's Holly's father. He's a good man. Probably at some point on their little Chicago jaunt (I adore this). But how does she know him by sight? It's not as if June can just pull up pics on her phone or look up his instagram. His Gilead Linked In page. Does she have a secret talent for forensic sketch art we don't know about? When would Janine have seen him? Was Nick maybe there at the second farm when the handmaids were recaptured, after June gave up their location to protect Hannah (yeah how about that, I guess sometimes you gotta do shitty shit to protect the people you love, sucks don't it, June)? Did he go to make sure none of them were harmed in the capture? And gave her some sort of signal to trust him? Like he did for June? Like he maybe did for Esther when she was arrested, making sure she didn't get killed? Cus, I dunno, maybe he's a good guy who sometimes has to do shitty things but always tries to minimize the suffering and collateral damage AND MAYBE HE WAS TRYING TO FINALLY GET AWAY FROM ALL THAT AND BE FREE 😭. Anyway, Janine wouldn't have covered for him if she thought he was a bad guy (and I love her even more for it).

EDIT - Bell does call him "Blaine" after a beat so she could have just put it together from the name but it really looked like she clocked exactly who he was the second she saw him. And she knew June must have sent him, which is why she codedly asks if she's ok.

EDIT 2 - Fred's funeral reception at the Putnam's. That's gotta be it. We don't see them see each other but we see Esther give him a dirty look and I just remembered Janine was there as well as a mother duckling handmaid chaperone to the bb duckling handmaids (not that having chaperones did poor Esther any good, you're a fucking coward, Lydia).

EDIT 3 - Ok I listened the latest ATG podcast and they pointed out it really could have been any number of moments when Nick was a driver etc. so maybe I’m overthinking it. But the important thing is she knows who he was (really who he is) and that’s huge because it has to mean June told her about him. It warms my heart to think of these two gossiping and giggling about boys together *crosses June dishing about Nick with her girlfriends off my wish list*

[egophiliac]

Final manifestations for Book 7?

I'm trying REALLY hard not to build up any solid expectations, because I wanna go in ~fresh~! they're already so far away from anything I thought would happen (not in a bad way, I'm just accepting that I'm on Miss Yana's Wild Ride at this point and we're seeing this thing through 'til the end, by gum). so it's nothing too major, but:

they've been handing new crying expressions out like candy lately, I want to see some delicious Malleus tears.

honestly I want everyone to cry buckets. their tears sustain me. the more Silver angst specifically I get the happier I am.

SILVER!!!! 👏 VANROUGE!!!! 👏

just let him have this. the poor boy's been through so much. let him have his big "I'm proud of you, son" moment with Lilia.

I'm 100% expecting Grim's arc (and probably whatever's going on with Crowley) to be its own episode, but a nice hook to leave us hanging on would be good!

a nice hook though, please, I don't think I can take another "Grim is attacking us! now wait eight months to find out what happens :)" cliffhanger...

some Meleanor? as a treat? just a little bit, a tiny quick flashback or something, please Twst I just, I just want to see her again. let her have a little ghost cameo like Dawnathan Knight got. Lilia and his kids are all having their big group hug or whatever and she can gently fade in to be all like

(turning asks off until I'm done playing, SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE Y'ALL)

[jewishcissiekj]

HEAD IN HANDS including trade paperbacks and hardcovers (kinda unfair but doesn't add much) I've read 683 marvel star wars comics. which is just canon stuff. not even with dark horse. no wonder i don't remember the plot of 70% of that

looked at my league of comic geeks statistics and it told me I read 882 marvel comics and i got scared because I DID NOT read 882 marvel comics where did that come from THEN i remembered the canon Star Wars comics were published under marvel so it made more sense. still it's 882 comics that's odd. turns out i had a small Viv Vision/Champions phase somewhen last year and read at least 120 comics with her. that's still 700 star wars comics but it makes slightly more sense. remember when i used to actually read comics that was funny wasn't it

[marcelineuntitled]

fanart for This Is Not The End by @kings-highway

potentially my favourite fic ever!! <3