#they be chicken fightin

[bexdrey]

@antstafersart helped me master some new brush settings for linework and MMMM i had fun doodling this. thank you hon! Wonder who they're up against in this hilarious chicken fight XD

[lustnhim]

დ︎ “impatient.” — 70s! elvis x fem! reader დ︎

note: requested / warnings: MDNI, hand job, oral m-receiving, slight edging, praise, slight degradation, submissive elvis, reader calls elvis daddy (elvis calls himself that too but whateva-) prob typos, kinda pwp, poorly written. / summary: you’re too busy to help elvis out with his ‘issue’ so he tries to take care of it himself, but you catch him.

Elvis had been out pretty much all day doing interviews, you knew when he would come home he’d be hungry. You had been cooking since 12, and it was 5:30 now- You liked to make all his favorite foods when you knew he’d had a long day… Stirring a pot of gravy and watching out the kitchen window you waited for the car to come into view. You checked in the oven to see the cornbread was about done and when you looked up you saw the car pull up and Elvis, who was already out. Jumping nervously, you rushed over to the table to make sure everything was in place, fried chicken, collard greens, mashed potatoes, and an un-iced chocolate cake. Rushing back over to the stove you poured the gravy in a gravy dish and sat it on the table. You still had to ice the cake and get the cornbread out you rushed around the kitchen, trying to get the icing out and ready to spread. 

“Well look at you! Runnin’ around like a chicken with your head cut off!” Elvis said, opening the front door and looking at you, standing in the kitchen, over the stove, and all dolled up in an apron as you cooked. You stopped and smiled at him, admiring his appearance. His messy hair, the soft white jacket and blue undershirt, the glasses that hid his pretty baby blues– he was gorgeous. “I wanted to have everything ready for you when you got home, but I ain’t quite done yet so you’ll have to wait.” You said smiling, walking towards Elvis and wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed you gently on your forehead. “Alrighty, little one. But, daddy’s got another thing he wants ta’ do…” Elvis said, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you closer. Your eyes narrowed, “What…?” You asked, seeing his crooked smirk play across his face. Elvis's hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively lean into him, the heat of his body warming and comforting you. His smirk is mischievous, and his curiosity piques. "What daddy wants," he coos his voice, a low rumble, "is for you to help him out with ‘little elvis' he's been actin’ up all day." His hands drift lower, rubbing your hips teasingly. You can't help but notice the obvious bulge in his pants pushing against you gently, and a blush creeps across your face. "But… I'm almost finished with dinner, Elvis. Can't it wait a little while? I’ll be done in maybe 30 minutes–” You pull away gently, remembering the cornbread in the oven. “Darlin’ I don't think I can wait that long, I-I’ve been fightin’ it all day..” Elvis retaliates with genuine desperation in his voice. You bit your lip nervously, “El- I got cornbread in the oven and it's gonna burn, after dinner, I’ll help you m'kay?” You say gently, pulling away from Elvis and heading back to the kitchen.

Elvis groaned gently as he watched you walk away. Frustrated, he sighed gently, running a hand through his hair and weighing his options. Sure, he could wait on his little housewife like a good husband, but something about this was different. The tension was unbearable, he needed to do something or he might lose his mind. “Ah- Darlin’ I’m gonna head to the bedroom and watch some TV, just holler for me when dinner’s ready,” Elvis called, heading up the stairs upon hearing you yell back. He walks towards his bedroom, his steps faltering as his erection strains against his tight pants. He can't focus on anything else now. Every thought revolves around relieving his ‘little’ problem. Elvis stripped down to nothing but his underwear and wrestled with the fastenings of his pants, his belt almost refusing to come undone. Once they hit the floor, his throbbing member springs free, bouncing lightly as he bites his lower lip in anticipation. Sitting on the bed he quickly gets to work. He grabs his hard cock, feeling the hot, pulsing veins beneath his gentle touch. Elvis's other hand rubs over his abused balls, encircling them tenderly before giving them a firm, loving squeeze. Letting out a groan he begins to stroke, the pent-up desire consumes him. His breathing becomes ragged, eyes half-lidded as he bites his lip, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Pre-cum drip from his swollen head as he feels himself nearing orgasm.

“El! Dinner’s done–” You say, opening the door abruptly, Elvis quickly struggles to cover himself, grabbing the blanket off the bed and yanking it over him. “B-baby! I- I’m sorry- I just couldn’t wait-” Elvis explains, his face growing red from embarrassment. Your cheeks flush a deep pink, partly in embarrassment for walking in on Elvis, and partly because of the arousal that lingers in the air. Without saying a word, you step deeper into the room, closing the door behind you. Approaching the bed, you reach out and gently tug at the blanket, revealing Elvis's now glistening, hard cock. A small smile plays on your lips as you kneel between his legs. “You couldn’t wait for him?” You coo, taking his cock in your hands, causing Elvis to let out a shaky gasp. “H-honey you ain’t gotta do that…” He whimpers, feeling your hands begin to work. You ignore Elvis's statement, instead focusing on how good it felt to be holding his cock in your hands once again. You stroke him gently, watching as he moans softly under your touch. “My poor husband…couldn’t even wait till’ after dinner..” You tease, watching his face carefully. “I-I’m sorry baby…” Elvis says, through a soft moan. “You’re not sorry…Nuh-uh…My baby wanted to be caught didn’t he?” You coo, starting to move faster now, running your thumb across his tip gently, beads of precum coating your fingers. “I-I’m gonna cum, baby…” Elvis said, bucking his hips gently. You hesitated for a moment before stopping, your hand still gripping his cock. “No you ain’t neither.” You say, causing Elvis to look down at you from partially closed eyes. “You’ll cum when I let you…Kay’ Daddy?” You say, shooting him a soft smile. 

You lean forward, extending your tongue to lick the tip of his cock, tasting the salty pre-cum that gathered there. Elvis lets out a shaky breath, his fingers threading through your hair. “Baby…Please I-I was about done when you came in” Elvis pleaded, feeling you wrap your lips around him. You let out a breathy giggle before taking him deeper into your mouth, moaning softly around him as you suck him. Elvis lets out a shaky moan, his hips bucking up into your mouth. You hum around his cock, enjoying the way he reacts to you. Your tongue flicks against the underside of his shaft, teasing him. Elvis's grip on your hair tightens as he nears his climax, his breathing growing more ragged. You can feel the tension building within him, and you know he won't be able to hold back much longer. Popping it out of your mouth you smile at him for a moment, watching as his belly heaves and his teeth bite his lip in desperation. “C’mon…” Elvis’ groans, his voice weakened.

Sliding down his body, you grasp his cock firmly, your thumb wiping away the beads of pre-cum that had already pooled back up. Elvis lets out a shaky breath as you lean in, taking the head of his member back into your mouth. He grasps your hair, gently guiding you as you bob your head, taking more and more of him into your mouth. You moan softly around his shaft, the vibrations sending shivers through Elvis's body. You pull back, leaving his cock glistening with your saliva as you look up at him. Elvis's eyes are half-lidded, his face flushed with arousal. "Arch your back for me, baby," you whisper, and he does as instructed, giving you better access to his eager cock. You lower your mouth back to him, this time taking him deep enough to reach the back of your throat, making him moan loudly. His fingers are still tangled in your hair, pushing you down deeper onto him, making you gag slightly. Releasing his grip on you, you raise your head smiling at him as strands of saliva still connect the two of you, “My poor husband…Can’t just let me work..hm?” You coo, stroking his cock lazily. “Please baby, please…just- just let me cum, I’ll wait on ya’ from now on just- just please hon’..” Elvis begs, you can feel his cock throbbing in your hands, copious amounts of precum leaking down onto your hands. 

You giggle before moving your head back down onto him, looking up at him, and placing your hands on his tummy as you thrust your head down onto him. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he twitched and gasped, the way his fingers dug into the sheets. You sucked, deep-throating him once more before pulling back, letting out a breathy moan. "Fine Daddy, cum for me," you say, grinning up at him as you resume your slow, teasing strokes. Elvis's eyes roll back as he nears his climax, his hand tangling in your hair one last time, pushing your head down onto him, his hips jerking violently his cock explodes, streams of hot cum coating your throat. You moan against him as he comes, the sound muffled by his cock buried in your mouth. Once he finishes, you pull off, licking your lips and wiping your mouth as he slumps back against the pillows, panting heavily. "There we go, Daddy," you purr, stroking him gently a few more times until he begins to soften. Standing up you admire, his chest heaving, his tummy rising with each shaky breath he lets out, “T-thank you, Darlin…” Elvis whispers, closing his eyes. Looking around the room you find his pants and underwear, picking them up you toss them on the bed beside him.

  “You better get dressed, El…Dinner’s gettin’ cold.”

hii! i think m’ gonna make a master list to put all my fics in cause i’ve got another one i’ve gotta start writing 😭 tysm for all the love on my last fic and just every fic i’ve posted on general- it means sm to me <3

taglist: @hooked-on-elvis @atleastpleasetelephone @lola-1013 @18lkpeters @indiatuck @eptodaytommorowforever @suspiciousmindsxo @tupelomiss @mysteriouslymagicalwolf @myradiaz @i-r-i-n-a-a @elvispresley1956 @sisssygirl @your-nanas-house @generousspirit @joyouswonders @callieselvisobsessed @iminlovewithaustinbutler @eapep @auntbee22 @scarlettlight06 @wildhorseinkansas @elvisiana @spookyeagleflower @ladelinee @jhoneybees @elviswhore69 @peaceloveelvis (lmk if u wanna be added or removed!)

[asimplevampire]

What I'm Doing With The TS2 Universities: The Best-Laid Plans

So because my darling @uberhood teens are starting to go off to school, I'm starting to remodel the universities! Right now I'm thinking about how to make them distinct from each other-- especially since I overdid it and accidentally added every fucking campus in the game and a few modded ones.

So, I'm making this post so I remember wtf I was planning to do with all of these unis. What architectural styles was I planning to use? What mascots was I planning to give them?

Sim State University

Elevator Pitch: Rub elbows with SimNation's best and brightest-- or get invited to their epic ragers-- at SSU.

Inspiration: The College of William and Mary. An old, red brick campus that's split into the Old Campus and New Campus? That's Sim State U if we ever saw it.

Majors: International Relations (modded), Political Science, History, Economics Mascot: The Fightin' Llamas. Rival School: Land Grant University.

La Fiesta Tech:

Elevator Pitch: The truth is out here! Unlock the secrets of the universe at La Fiesta Tech.

Inspiration: New Mexico State's more modern architecture

Majors: The "Four Ps"-- Paranormal (modded), Physics, Psychology, Philosophy Mascot: The Antisocial Bunnies Rival School: Cactus Canyon University

Academie Le Tour:

Elevator Pitch: "Alta cultura, altior drama." If you want to study the liberal arts, there's nowhere better than Academie Le Tour.

Inspiration: Was it ever going to be anything other than Oxbridge? It was never going to be anything other than Oxbridge.

Majors: Languages (modded), Art, Literature, Drama

Mascot: The Magic Dragons. (TS4 Oxbury Dragon)

Rival School: Caelestis University

Land Grant University:

Elevator Pitch: Higher education is a new concept in the area. We'll see how it works out. (~@penig)

Inspiration: Texas A&M. I don't expect to have to remodel too many of the buildings, because this isn't a Maxis school-- but if I do, I'm gonna use The Agricultural School Par Excellence as inspo.

Majors: Agricultural Business, Animal Sciences, Plant Sciences (modded), Biology

Mascot: The Ragin' Bulls (AKA: Cow)

Rival School: Sim State University

Cactus Canyon University:

Elevator Pitch: "The cosiest college in SimNation." Come for the campus life, stay because we've got the best pre-med program in the area.

Inspiration: Honestly? CCU has its own architectural style and I'm Here For It; thanks @aondaneedles!

Majors: Sport Studies, Nursing, Dentistry (modded), Mathematics

Mascot: The Pluckin' Chickens

Rival School: La Fiesta Tech.

Caelestis University:

Elevator Pitch: "Study the quirkier side of life and find your people."

Inspiration: OCAD University, Toronto. A mix of traditional turn-of-the-century architecture and the most Gonzo Pomo shit you ever have seen.

Majors: Galactic Ambassador (modded), Crisis Management (modded), Fashion (modded), Art

Mascot: The Clackin' Lobster (from TS4 Britechester)

Rival School: Academie Le Tour

Quaddington University:

Elevator Pitch: "Braiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiins...."

Inspiration: The entirety of Abandonedamerica.us, but especially the Warner Swasey Observatory in Cleveland (and, by extension, Case Western Reserve University).

Majors: Dead Languages, Law (modded), Drama, Philosophy

Mascot: N/A. Might un-default the Brahmin mascot suit from @davinaojeda's Fallout set-- I think that would be funny.

Rival School: N/A. Quaddington U just opened its doors to the public again, and hasn't really had time to reestablish rivalries.

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 15 - Painful RE:bake | Episode 3 - Remnants of a Fake

Strongest in West Tokyo. Crazy Wolf ✕ Crazy Fox

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Ex-Wolf Member A: This chicken is the best, Zen-san!

Zen: Glad ya think so.

Omi: I’m the one who made this quiche over here.

Ex-Wolf Member B: It’s real good!

Ex-Wolf Member C: Can I get some of this to go? My wife’s always naggin’ me sayin’ she’s the only one who gets it…

Omi: Then I’ll pack some up later for you to take home.

Ex-Wolf Member C: Thanks!

Ryo: …

Omi: Ryo, want something to drink?

Ryo: …

Omi: Ryo?

Ryo: Ah, my bad!

Omi: Something wrong?

Ryo: …I don’t wanna ruin their fun right now, so I’ll tell you later.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Ex-Wolf Member A: Haaah~, I’m so stuffed I feel like I’m about to explode.

Ex-Wolf Member B: Thanks for the food!

Ex-Wolf Member C: I’ve been really lookin’ forward to the days when Wolf gets back together lately.

Ex-Wolf Member A: Nah, that’s so real.

Ryo: …Guys, can I tell you something?

Ex-Wolf Member B: What’s up?

Ryo: …Actually, I heard about something that kinda grabbed my attention.

Omi: Is this what you were thinking about earlier?

Ryo: Yeah.

Ryo: One of the younger guys on the scene told me that there’s been some brat acting violent around here lately that’s been claiming to be part of “Wolf”.

Ryo: This younger guy had heard about “Wolf” from me, so he asked if he was our junior or something…

Ex-Wolf Member C: Ain’t it possible he’s just usin’ our team name by accident or somethin’?

Ex-Wolf Member A: That’s not that weird of a thing.

Ryo: That ain’t it. Apparently, he’s been saying he’s “Nachi” of “Wolf”.

Omi: --.

Ex-Wolf Member A: Seriously…?

Ex-Wolf Member B: --You gotta be kidding me. He’s mockin’ us! Even if it’s just some kinda childish prank, there’s just some things you can’t do!

Ex-Wolf Member C: How dare this kid go and take Nachi-san’s name!? We’ve gotta find him and shut this shit down!

Ex-Wolf Member A: This is unforgivable!

Omi: Ryo, were you able to ask for any more details about this fake?

Ryo: Apparently, sometimes he fights alone, but sometimes he’s got buddies with him.

Ryo: They only thing common thing is that he says he’s a remnant of “Wolf” and then walks away…

Ex-Wolf Member D: Damn brat’s full of shit.

Ex-Wolf Member E: He probably heard the legend about “Wolf” being the strongest in West Tokyo, and started saying that just for the hell of it.

Ex-Wolf Member A: It ain’t a joke. He shouldn’t be fuckin’ with us like that!

Ex-Wolf Member B: We’ve gotta teach that fuckin’ brat a lesson--.

Ex-Wolf Member C: Yeah, yeah!

Omi: Wait. I’ll see what I can find out using my connections. Everyone just hold off doing anything for now.

Ex-Wolf Member A: Omi-san…

Ex-Wolf Member B: Gotcha.

Ex-Wolf Member C: But let us know if ya need anything!

Ryo: I’ll try and gather some more information too.

Omi: Sounds good.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Dishes being washed*

Omi: …

Zen: …About that fake you mentioned before.

Zen: I’ve got a dancer who seems to know a lot about the street delinquents. They’re reformed now, but they used to be a bit of a troublemaker not too long ago.

Zen: You want me to have them check it out?

Omi: You heard all that?

Zen: I was a bit curious.

Omi: Sorry for involving you, but… That’d be a huge help.

Zen: It ain’t a problem. You said he was callin’ himself “his” name, didn’t you?

Omi: --Yeah.

Omi: Just what kinda person would be pretending to be Nachi? And for what reason…?

Zen: No clue. But if the kid’s spendin’ all his time gettin’ into stupid fights, he’s probably frustrated in some way.

Zen: …I get how kids like him feel, so I just wanted to say somethin’.

Omi: Thank you so much.

Zen: Some of Gentiana’s shows incorporate sword fights into them. An ex-punk with a strong fightin’ spirit can immediately become somethin’ useful.

Zen: The guy I just mentioned is proof of that. They could prolly inadvertently blend in with the remnants of “Wolf”.

Zen: It ain’t someone else’s problem, y’know.

Zen: --That reminds me, we recently got a formal practice space for show dancers.

Zen: I was havin’ the live-in dancers clear off tables in the hall and lay out mats for them to practice on, but…

Zen: It was too cramped to let them practice serious tumblin’ ‘n action. So we finally took the plunge ‘n built a place to practice with all the stuff we needed.

Omi: That’s quite a bold move.

Zen: We’ve been gettin’ plenty of customers. It’s thanks to that.

Zen: Just let me know if any of the newborn group wants to use it for action-specific rehearsals or somethin’.

Zen: I’ll lend it to you whenever it’s available. Tell your director about it.

Omi: Thank you so much.

Omi: (...It really is amazing how nice the first-gen people are. I guess it’s also his way of encouraging us about the New Fleur Award.)

Omi: (I’m also concerned about the fake Wolf thing, but… First and foremost, I’ve got to make sure “Picaresque Returns” is a success.)

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[dedetc]

WELL, NOW, MISSY, YOU'RE ABOUT AS PREDICTABLE AS A RATTLESNAKE IN A HAY BARN! NOW, I RECKON YOU'VE BEEN STIRRIN' UP A WHOLE MESS OF TROUBLE 'ROUND THESE PARTS, AIN'T YA? FROM RUININ' THAT THERE PRINCESS PROM TO CAUSIN' A RUCKUS WITH THEM PRINCESSES, AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT WHOLE BUSINESS WITH THE PORTAL NEARLY TEARIN' REALITY A NEW ONE!

WHY, I RECKON EVEN THREE BLIND MICE COULD SEE THAT YOU'VE BEEN ACTIN' AS ORNERY AS A MULE WITH A BURR UNDER ITS SADDLE! AND WHAT'S ALL THIS FUSS ABOUT FIGHTIN' YOUR OWN KINFOLK? NOW WHAT? I SAY, WHAT IS UP WITH THAT? YOUR BEST FRIEND GOES INTO THE WOODS, FINDS A MAGIC SWORD, AND BECOMES A LEGENDARY HERO CALLED SHE-RA! NOW, THAT'S A CAREER CHANGE, I TELL YA! YOU SHOULD BE PROUD OF HER! SHES GOING TO PLACES!

BEFORE YOU CROSSED HORNS WITH HER, YOU TWO USED TO BE CLOSE FRIENDS, CLOSER THAN A POSSUM IN A PECAN TREE. IN FACT, I'D SAY YOU WERE CLOSE AS SISTERS I RECKON! AND NOW, INSTEAD OF GIVING HUGS, YOU WANT GIVE HER A PIECE OF YOUR MIND AND TO CLAW THOSE BABY BLUE EYES OF HERS OUT! THAT AIN'T NO WAY TO TREAT YOUR BEST FRIEND!

AND SPEAKING OF, ADORA ISN'T THE ONLY PERSON YOU BEEN GIVIN' A HARD TIME! THERE ARE OTHER FOLKS YOU BEEN TREATIN' POORLY TOO. LIKE SCORPIA AND ENTRAPTA, THOSE GALS ARE AS LOYAL AS A HOUND DOG ON A HUNT, AND YOU'VE BEEN TREATIN' 'EM LIKE YESTERDAY'S CHICKEN FEED!

NOW, I AIN'T SAYIN' YOU'RE BEYOND REDEMPTION, BUT YOU SURE DO NEED TO STRAIGHTEN UP AND FLY RIGHT BEFORE YOU FIND YOURSELF IN A REAL PICKLE. SO WHY DON'T YOU MOSEY ON OVER HERE AND LET'S HAVE OURSELVES A HEART-TO-HEART, 'CAUSE LORD KNOWS, YOU NEED IT MORE THAN A CAT NEEDS A SAUCER OF CREAM!

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Echoes of Sanctuary: chapter I

Summary: in a post-apocalyptic world consumed by darkness, Marlene entrusts hardened survivors Joel and Tess with a critical mission: to escort a mysterious and valuable cargo, Ellie, to the State House. Driven by their own desperate needs, they reluctantly accept. Little do they know that their path will intersect with an unexpected guest, whose presence will ignite a spark of hope and challenge the walls around Joel's heart.

pairing: Joel Miller x afab!doctor!reader - main

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, Possessive!Joel, Immune!reader, Sarah is alive!

next

Crawling up ladders at the age of 56 was a lot more difficult than it seemed. Each rung felt like an arduous climb, a reminder of the weariness that had settled deep into Joel's bones.

Joel had always prided himself on his resilience, but as he clutched onto the rungs with a stubborn determination, he couldn't deny the aches and groans that escaped his weary body.

He had faced infected hordes, survived countless battles, but this seemingly innocent ladder was his latest nemesis.

Tess, who was no spring chicken herself at the age of 56, somehow managed to navigate the ladder with more grace than Joel could muster.

She shot him a knowing smirk, a twinkle in her eye, as if silently mocking his struggles.

Joel grumbled under his breath, his grizzled features creased with both annoyance and amusement. “I'm just savin' my energy for when it really counts."

Tess can’t help but snicker at Joel’s defense, her voice laced with a hint of playful sarcasm. "Sure, Joel, whatever helps you sleep at night. Just hope you don't break a hip on the way up.”

Joel shot Tess a mock glare, his lips curling into a half-hearted smile. "Don't you worry 'bout me, Tess. I've been through worse, and I ain't lettin' no damn ladder get the best of me."

"That's the spirit, old man. You keep fightin' those ladders, and I'll be right here to catch you if you fall."

Both continued their ascent, their determined grip on the ladder never wavering. The strains of their banter echoed through the narrow space. Finally reaching their intended destination, both Joel and Tess stepped off the ladder, their feet firmly planted on the solid ground.

"So, this opens into the hallway," Tess stated, her voice steady as she approached a small panel door.

With a confident push, her brow furrowed in frustration as the door stubbornly refused to budge. The weight of disappointment hung heavy in the air as their path forward remained blocked.

"What the f? Someone put a piano in front of this?" Tess exclaimed, her frustration evident in her voice.

Joel, ever vigilant, swept his flashlight across the room, its beam slicing through the darkness and revealing the debris and decay that surrounded them. His eyes narrowed, searching for any signs of danger.

And that's when he catches a whiff of it. A peculiar scent that sends his senses into overdrive.

Joel's eyes narrowed as he took a long, deliberate sniff of the air. His face scrunched up in a mix of concern and familiarity, "You smell that?" Tess abruptly halted her attempts to push open the stubborn door, her gaze fixated on Joel's flashlight beam as it illuminated the surface

"Yeah, gunpowder," Tess stated with a mix of intrigue and wariness, her voice steady despite the underlying tension. Both Joel and Tess leaned in, their eyes fixated on the narrow gap beneath the door. The beam of Joel's flashlight pierced through the darkness, casting an eerie glow on the scene before them.

Blood, dark and foreboding, seeped out from the bottom of the door.

Without hesitation, Joel and Tess sprang into action, their weapons drawn with practiced precision. The room was suddenly electrified with palpable tension as their instincts kicked in, honed by years of surviving in this unforgiving world.

Joel's voice carried a sense of urgency, his tone filled with a mix of caution and concern. "Tess," he warned, his voice a low rasp. Tess, undeterred by the warning, squared her shoulders and pushed open the door with a determined force. Her muscles tensed as she leaned into the resistance, channeling her strength into the task at hand.

With a resounding thud, the door gave way under Tess's relentless push. The weight that had blocked their path is pushed away and the door swung open, revealing the hallway. Tess led the way, her steps purposeful and calculated, her gun held firmly in her hands. Joel followed closely behind, his own weapon at the ready, his senses heightened.

Turning to her left, Tess was met with a sight of Robert's lifeless body lying sprawled on the ground. Her face twisted in disgust, her eyes tracing the path of his failed attempt at deceit.

Her steps measured, Tess approached the body, her flashlight casting a harsh beam upon the dead car battery that Robert had so desperately tried to sell them. She knelt down, her features a mix of contempt and disappointment.

"Well, the battery's no good," Tess muttered, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and vindication. Her flashlight then moved upward, illuminating Robert's lifeless face.

"You still tried to sell it. Twice," she said, her tone cutting through the silence with a bitter edge. The weight of their need for that battery, their hopes pinned on a false promise, hung heavy in the air. Joel's gaze shifted from the hallway to Tess's side, where Robert's lifeless form lay. A mix of detachment and resignation was etched into his features, his eyes reflecting the harsh realities of their world. Sympathy and remorse had long been stripped away, leaving behind a hardened survivor with a grim determination to persevere.

Plus there was no sympathy in Joel's heart for the man who had attempted to rip him off. The battery was crucial for his journey, for the hope of reuniting with Tommy. The bond between them, forged through their shared experiences and the desperate need for family in a desolate world, was unbreakable.

But it was a bond Joel guarded closely, for the pain of losing Sarah still lingered, an ever-present ache.

His thoughts momentarily flickered to his daughter, Sarah, her name a bittersweet echo in the recesses of his mind. He swiftly pushed it aside, burying the memories deep within him. The wounds of the past were still raw, the loss too great to bear openly.

Suddenly, a guttural cry shattered the stillness, tearing through the air and shattering their focused state.

Without hesitation, both Joel and Tess sprang into action, their movements fluid and purposeful as they traversed the hallway strewn with lifeless bodies. Their senses heightened, their guns held firmly in their hands. Joel's worn boots resounded in the dimly lit corridor, every step deliberate and cautious. Each footfall reverberated through the stale air as he assumes lead.

Tess's grip on her weapon tightened, her knuckles turning white as she braced herself for the impending danger. The eerie symphony of hushed whispers and agonized moans reverberated through the desolate hallway, encroaching upon Tess and Joel with unsettling proximity. As Tess and Joel neared the junction of a dimly lit, claustrophobic hallway, the cacophony of agonized cries and moans grew in intensity

Joel pressed himself against the wall, his movements slow and deliberate. With his back against the cold surface, he peered around the corner, his weathered eyes scanning the hallway to identify the source of the pained voices.

With weathered eyes squinting, he cautiously peered around the corner, to see a woman helping another injured woman off the ground. The injured woman, struggling to stand on her own, leaned heavily on her companion for support. Silently, Joel stepped into the hallway, his gun held steady, his movements deliberate. Like a shadow in the night, he traversed with eerie grace, his presence almost imperceptible. Tess, her focus consumed by the ominous surroundings, followed closely behind.

As Joel reached the midpoint of the dimly lit hallway, the silence was abruptly shattered as the door to his right swung open with a forceful momentum. The suddenness of the movement jolted his senses, his instincts kicking into high gear.

In a swift and unexpected motion, a figure lunged at Joel with a pocket knife gripped tightly in their hand. With fluid grace, Joel deftly evaded the attacker's desperate lunge, pivoting on his heel and redirecting their momentum.

The attacker collided with the unforgiving left wall of the dimly lit hallway, their grip on the knife loosening as their balance faltered, and lands near his feet.

In a split second, Joel and Tess' guns are leveled at his attacker, the cold steel reflecting their unwavering resolve.

"Fuck." escaped the lips of the unexpected assailant, punctuating the tense silence that enveloped the room.

As the word hung in the air, Joel's gaze sharpened, his eyes fixating on the figure before him.

And then he saw her—a teenage girl, her piercing eyes locked onto his own.

"Joel?"

The sound of his name pierced through the air, disrupting the momentary distraction the girl had created. Joel's head snapped away from the young girl, his gaze locking onto the injured woman who had called out to him. "Marlene?" Joel's forehead creased in a perplexed frown, his confusion apparent.

Marlene and the woman standing by her side fixated their unwavering gazes upon him, their guns held steady with unsettling precision.

With a practiced eye, Joel honed in on the subtle cues that revealed Marlene's concealed injury. The way she gingerly placed pressure on her left hip, the slight tension in her posture—it was clear that she was nursing a gunshot wound. Marlene's concerned gaze shifted from Joel to the young girl, her voice filled with a mixture of worry and curiosity. "You okay?" she inquired, her eyes searching for any signs of distress or injury.

The girl's response was curt, her attention fixed unwaveringly on Joel. "Yeah," she replied, her voice betraying a hint of caution and wariness.

With a keen eye, the girl noticed her pocket knife lying near Joel's feet, its gleaming blade beckoning her. Determined to retrieve it, she stretched out her hand, inching closer. However, her attempts were abruptly halted as Joel deliberately stepped on the knife, his intense gaze fixed upon her.

"Ellie. Ellie!" Marlene's urgent voice pierced through the tense air, instantly capturing Ellie's attention.

Startled, Ellie's eyes darted towards Marlene, her body instinctively tensing for a threat. Her gaze quickly shifted to Marlene's wounded form, her heart skipping a beat at the sight.

"Oh shit!" Ellie exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern and worry.

"No, it's okay. I'll be all right." Marlene reassured the girl, her voice tinged with a sense of detached concern. "And you can't be stupid like this."

"So this is who Robert screwed us over with? The Che Guevara of Boston?" Tess's voice cut through the tension, her words dripping with a mix of disbelief and contempt. Her gun, once aimed at Ellie, now hung loosely at her side, her focus shifting to Marlene and the woman standing beside her.

Tess added with a touch of sarcasm, "War must be goin' pretty shitty for you to be buying from scumbags like him."

"Yeah, it kinda has been. The merch was bad, and he obviously didn't take "fuck off" for an answer." Marlene responded, her voice honest and tired. "Gimme my knife," Ellie demanded from her position on the ground, her eyes fixed on her pocket knife that Joel had stepped on.

Ignoring the teenager, Joel's gaze remained fixed on Marlene, his voice steady and guarded. "What do you need a car battery for?" Just as Ellie moved to snatch her knife from under Joel's shoe, he swiftly turned towards her, his gun instantly pointed right at her. His eyes held a mix of caution and determination as he firmly commanded, "Don't."

"Not at her." A voice, unfamiliar and laced with an air of authority, pierced through the tension that hung in the air.

The words carried a weight that demanded attention, causing Tess, Joel, and their companions to pivot on their heels, their gazes fixated on the source of the enigmatic voice.

Standing tall and formidable, a woman emerged from the shadows, her presence emanating a dangerous energy. With unwavering focus, her gun was aimed straight at the back of Tess' head. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, each heartbeat echoing with anticipation.

"Don't you dare point a weapon at her." The woman warns, pushing her gun into the back of Tess' head.

Joel's narrowed gaze intensified, his fingers instinctively tightening around the grip of his gun. The woman's audaciousness hung in the air, igniting a palpable tension that crackled with electricity.

"Easy now," Joel's voice rumbled with a touch of caution, his words dripping with a hint of weariness. "No need to go makin' any sudden, foolish moves now."

The woman's unwavering gaze remained fixed on Tess, her finger twitching on the trigger. A flicker of determination, sharp as a blade, shone through her eyes. Her voice carried a steely resolve, laced with a fierce protectiveness that reverberated through her words. "You so much as breathe wrong, and your friend here won't be breathin' at all."

"Now, ma'am, let's all just take a step back here," Joel spoke with a mix of authority and diplomacy. "We don't want no harm to come to nobody."

The woman's grip on the gun tightened, her eyes darting between Joel and Tess. Her voice held an edge of warning as she responded, her protective instincts guiding her actions. "Should’ve thought of that before pointing a gun at a child.”

Joel suppressed a weary sigh, his breath escaping through gritted teeth. "I ain't exactly proud of it, but I got my reasons." The woman's gaze narrowed to a razor's edge, her fingers locked unwaveringly around the grip of the gun. "We've faced our fair share of hell, but we don't go pointing guns at children."

Marlene's lips part, and a name slips from her tongue followed by his own, catching Joel's attention as he notices your eyes shifting away from him, fixating on Marlene.

“Enough. Both of you. And to answer your question, Joel, I need it for a better reason than you do. No offense, but Tommy's just one man. It's our business to know things."

Joel's gaze hardened as he locked eyes with Marlene, his voice thick with anger, "'To know things?' You're the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me.

"Okay, Joel. That was a lot of gunfire. FEDRA's gonna be on the way." Kim, the woman standing next to Marlene, spoke urgently.

Marlene sighed, frustration evident in her voice. Her gaze shifted from Ellie to you positioned behind Tess. "I know," Marlene replies wearily. "We were gonna move her and Ellie outta the zone tonight. But we won't make it anywhere like this. Not for a while anyway. So now I'm thinkin', you're gonna do it."

"Absolutely not!" "The hell we are." "I'm not goin' with them!"

Simultaneously, you, Joel, and Ellie express their refusal, prompting Marlene to release a sigh and massage her forehead in a gesture of frustration.

Emerging from behind Tess, you glide over to Ellie's side, where the young girl envelops you in a tight embrace, encircling your waist with her arms.

"Let me take her, Marlene." For the first time, since you have been in the room, your voice softens, a stark contrast to its previous harshness. Marlene vehemently shakes her head and says, "Absolutely not. I cannot allow you to go anywhere alone. Marc will have my head if something happens to you."

"Tess, we don't have time for this." Joel turns around and gives his friend an exasperated look, silently expressing his frustration.

"You have time to point a gun at a child, but you don't have time to take her somewhere safe." You sneer in a hushed voice, her taunts barely audible. However, Joel's keen ears manage to catch your words.

"Who are they?" Tess questioned, her voice laced with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

"To you? They're Cargo." Marlene retorted with a hint of cold detachment in her voice.

Joel narrows his eyes at his best friend, "We don't smuggle people. Sorry." His voice was resolute yet devoid of remorse, a defiant undertone resonating through the air.

"I can do it." Kim asserted, her voice laced with determination. She turned back to Marlene, her gaze unwavering.

"Kim, you don't have a fuckin' ear on your fuckin' head. Could you please?" Marlene retorted, her response laced with frustration, her voice raised in a fiery tone. Your and Joel's eyes wander towards Kim's face, it naturally settles on her head, only for their attention to be immediately drawn to the absence of an ear.

As you attempts to brush past Joel, he feels her movement halted by the unexpected embrace of the young girl wrapped around her waist. Joel senses the girl's firm grip and realizes that she's determined to keep you by her side.

Marlene's voice trembles with urgency as she addresses Joel, her eyes pleading for his understanding. "There's a team of Fireflies waiting for them at the old State House. I know what's out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason. But now I don't have a truck, I don't have a squadron, FEDRA's five minutes away. What I do have is you. And I know what you're both capable of. For better or worse."

Ellie's voice breaks through the tension as she releases her grip on your waist and turns to face Marlene. Her eyes are filled with curiosity and a hint of apprehension. "What are they capable of?" she asks, her voice laced with a mixture of innocence and a desire for reassurance. Marlene's gaze shifts past Ellie, her focus now solely on Joel. Her tone is determined and persuasive as she lays out her offer. "You get them there safely, and they'll give you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole thing. Fueled-up truck, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear."

Joel's grip tightens on his gun as he studies Marlene, a mixture of anger and confusion evident on his face. "You expect me to trust you? To trust her?" He gestures toward you and Ellie, who goes back to clinging to her for protection. "I swear," Marlene repeated, her voice tinged with desperation. "I know it's a lot to ask, Joel. But please."

Joel's gaze shifted towards Tess, his questioning eyes seeking her input. Without a word, Tess responded with a sharp jerk of her head to the side, a silent gesture of caution and skepticism.

Joel's eyes shifted toward you and Ellie, and a flicker of suspicion crossed his face. He furrowed his brow and discreetly nudged the girl's knife, concealed beneath his boot, further away from the two. "Asshole!" Ellie seethed through clenched teeth, her frustration evident as she directed her anger at the man.

Joel kept his gun firmly trained on Marlene as he walked over to Tess, his eyes shifting back and forth between you and Ellie.

Sensing the need for a private conversation, he motioned for Tess to join him, and they moved a few steps away from the rest of the group, creating a small pocket of privacy. "You trust her?" Joel asked Tess, his voice filled with a mix of trust and reliance on her judgment.

Tess shook her head, her expression reflecting her own lack of trust, "No, me neither, but she seems desperate." Joel's voice carried a mix of skepticism and calculation as he interjected, "Firefly vehicle usually means repurposed FEDRA stuff. So better-than-decent chance makin' it to Tommy in one of those. The second we hand the kid over-" Marlene, her voice strained and filled with urgency, interjected from a distance, interrupting the conversation between Joel and Tess. Her hand instinctively pressed against the wound on her hip, where blood seeped through her fingers.

"Y'all talk it through," Marlene called out, her voice slightly weakened by pain, "but please remember that I'm bleeding out."

Tess and Joel exchanged glances, their eyes locked in a silent exchange as they weighed their options. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, their minds racing with possibilities and consequences.

In a sudden and decisive move, Tess broke the silence, and stepped closer, until she is side by side with Ellie and you, her voice firm but tinged with a hint of warning. "Okay. Here's the deal. We'll get them to your crew at the State House. But before we hand them over, they give us everything that we want. If not, we kill her, there and then."

"Deal," Marlene responded immediately, a hint of satisfaction evident in her voice as she fought to suppress a smirk. Marlene was acutely aware that if Joel and Tess ever dared to harm you in any way, the infected roaming the world would pale in comparison to the wrath of Marc.

The sheer protectiveness and fierce devotion he held for you meant that no harm could befall her without invoking his relentless fury.

"Really? That fast?" Ellie shot back, her voice tinged with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

You divert her attention to you, brushing Ellie's hair away from her forehead, your touch a soothing gesture amidst the tension. "You are all that matters." You gently say, your words imbued with genuine care and concern.

Marlene's voice softens as she addressed Ellie, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and reassurance. "She's right, Ellie. You two are what matters most. My team won't jeopardize your safety. Remember what I told you? Now go get your backpack." When Ellie remained rooted in place, Marlene's attention shifted to you, her desperation conveyed through her pleading eyes Nodding at Marlene, you gently lift Ellie's head by her chin, your touch filled with a mix of tenderness and determination. With a soft smile, you speak to her, your voice filled with reassurance and warmth. "Come on, Ellie. Let's go grab our backpacks."

Understanding the urgency of the situation, you firmly grasp Ellie's hand and guide her toward the room ahead, where your backpacks are stored.

The sound of footsteps echoes behind you as you enter the room, swiftly retrieving your belongings. Within moments, you and Ellie emerge, backpacks in hand, ready to embark on the next leg of the journey.

As you step out of the room, you lock eyes with Marlene, who offers a reassuring nod. Her expression conveys a mixture of concern and hope, urging you to stay safe. A brief smile graces your lips as a wordless acknowledgment of her support.

Tess takes the lead, her voice cutting through the tension, "Let's go." With determined strides, she paves the way towards the entrance they initially entered through, beckoning you and Ellie to follow.

Marlene's smile lingers as she watches you, silently conveying her trust and confidence in your capabilities. "Stay safe," she whispers.

The two of you followed closely behind, pushing past Joel with determined force. There was no time for hesitation or second-guessing, and you were determined to make sure Ellie was safe. Joel's gaze lingered on you and the little girl as you two walked away, disappearing around a corner, and following behind Tess. Uncertainty gnawed at him, his trust in you and the girl still fragile and untested.

"Joel," Marlene called out, breaking his reverie. He turned to face her, his expression guarded.

"Don't fuck this up. Please," Marlene pleaded, her voice filled with urgency and a hint of desperation. She knew that their success hinged on Joel's cooperation, and any misstep could have dire consequences for everyone involved.

Joel held Marlene's gaze for a moment, his eyes searching for answers. He understood the importance of their task, but he also knew the risks involved.

Without saying a word, he turned away from her and walked away, leaving Marlene behind with her plea hanging in the air.

Tag list: @ayamenimthiriel

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[bagelsbasement]

Fightin’ Chicken!

[doberbutts]

moving to central pa from kentucky was a trip bc my mom's friends would be like "oh, we're bringing chicken pot pie" and my family had the misfortune of anticipating a pot pie, not off brand chicken and dumpling soup. it's not bad, but we still bicker with them bc where's the pie? strips of pie dough don't count as pie. fucking lancaster and lebanon county, hate this place

Hey hey hey them's fightin words ok Amish Pot Pie is a delicious, hearty meal that's a staple for Lancaster's poor with savory egg noodles and enough broth to fill your belly. 😤

Like many PA Dutch words it's called "pot pie" in English because the actual word for it is "bott boi" which sounds a lot like "pot pie" if you don't know PA Dutch. It's just unfortunate that it shares that name with the more pie-shaped dish, because the first time I ordered pot pie at a resturant outside of PA I was in for quite a surprise.

Anyway yes 👎👎👎 Lancaster 👎👎👎 in general but don't you diss my delicious cult foods

[reddawnmultimuse]

The next chicken is a handsome ganoi, by the shape of its legs... Deidara's tongue poked out of his mouth as he began shaping it with crude handfuls, building a rough body. Ganois were taller than the usual chicken...

"Oh! A ganoi, er Ga Noi. Didja know they're popular as a fightin' breed? I tell ya wut!" Itachi freezes. Why did he just talk like that? Why does he sound like Hidan!? "W-What in tarnation!?"

magic!anon [ 3/12 ]

[cherryblossomforest]

11 and 30 for the songs ask? Hope today is a better day lovely 💜

Thank you Snorlax 🫶🏿 I hope today is gentle on you ✨️

11. A song that means a lot to you

Tw: SA Mention

ooh, uh (Ooh, ooh, tee-vah) ooh, ha (Ooh, ooh, tee-vah) ha, ha, ha Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yee

Enoch, your father's just detoxed, my callin' is right on time Transformation, I must had a thousand lives and like three thousand wives You should know that I'm slightly off, fightin' off demons that been outside Better known as myself, I'm a demigod Every thought is creative, sometimes I'm afraid of my open mind

Shit on my mind and it's heavy Tell you in pieces 'cause it's way too heavy My diamonds, the choker is heavy More life to give on demand, are you ready? Who keep 'em honest like us? Who in alignment like us? Who gotta heal 'em all? Us (Us) When there's no one to call

Don't need no conversation If it ain't about the business, shut the door now Bitch', it's a celebration And if this shit ain't bussin', what's it for now?

Steppin' out when the weight lifts Floatin' on 'em (ooh-ooh-ooh, da-da) Floatin' on 'em Floatin' on 'em Floatin' on 'em

Steppin' out when the weight lifts Floatin' on 'em (ooh-ooh-ooh, da-da) Floatin' on 'em (float, float, ooh-ooh-ooh, da-da) Floatin' on 'em (float, float, ooh-ooh-ooh, da-da) Floatin' on 'em (float, float, ooh-ooh-ooh, da-da)

Uzzi, your father's in deep meditation My spirit's awakened, my brain is asleep I got a new temperature Sharpenin' multiple swords in the faith I believe

I think about Robert Kelly If he weren't molested, I wonder if life'll fail him I wonder if Oprah found closure The way that she postered the hurt that a woman carries

My mother abused young Like all of the mothers back where we from SSI bury family members At the repass, they servin' Popeyes chicken

What you know about Black trauma? F&N's kickin' back is another genre Tyler Perry, the face of a thousand rappers Using violence to cover what really happen

I know somebody's listenin' Past life regressions to know my conditions It's based off experience Comma for comma, my habits insensitive

Watchin' my cousin struggle with addiction Then watchin' her firstborn make a million And both of them off the grid for forgiveness I'm sacrificin' myself to start the healin' and

Shit on my mind and it's heavy Tell you in pieces 'cause it's way too heavy My diamonds, the choker is heavy More life to give on demand, are you ready? Who keep 'em honest like us? Who in alignment like us? Who gotta heal 'em all? Us (us) When there's no one to call us (us)

Say, "Hydrate, it's time to heal" Safe, you're frustrated, I can feel Huddle up, tie the flag, call the troops, holla back Huddle up, tie the flag, call the troops, holla back Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

People get taken over by this pain-body Because this energy field that almost has a life of its own It needs to, periodically, feed on more unhappiness

30. A song with really good lyrics

I'm with this Complexion (two-step) Complexion don't mean a thing (it's a Zulu love) Ooh, complexion (two-step) It all feels the same (it's a Zulu love, uh)

Dark as the midnight hour or bright as the mornin' sun Give a fuck about your complexion, I know what the Germans done Sneak (dissin')

Sneak me through the back window, I'm a good field nigga I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you You know I'd go the distance, you know I'm ten toes down Even if massa listenin', cover your ears, he 'bout to mention

Complexion (two-step) Complexion don't mean a thing (it's a Zulu love) Ooh, complexion (two-step) It all feels the same (it's a Zulu love, uh)

Dark as the midnight hour, I'm bright as the mornin' sun Brown skinned, but your blue eyes tell me your mama can't run Sneak (dissin')

Sneak me through the back window, I'm a good field nigga I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you You know I'd go the distance, you know I'm ten toes down Even if massa listenin', I got the world's attention So I'ma say somethin' that's vital and critical for survival of mankind If he lyin', color should never rival

Beauty is what you make it, I used to be so mistaken By different shades of faces Then wit told me, "A woman is woman, love the creation" It all came from God then you was my confirmation I came to where you reside And looked around to see more sights for sore eyes Let the Willie Lynch theory reverse a million times with

Complexion (woo, two-step) Complexion don't mean a thing (it's a Zulu love) Ooh, complexion (two-step) It all feels the same (it's a Zulu love, uh)

You like it, I love it You like it, I love it You like it, I love it You like it, I love it You like it, I love it You like it, I love it You like it, I love it You like it, I love it

Let me talk my Stu Scott, 'scuse me on my 2Pac Keep your head up, when did you stop? Loving thy color of your skin Color of your eyes That's the real blues, baby, like you met Jay's baby, uh You blew me away You think more beauty in blue, green and grey All my solemn men up north 12 years a slave 12 years of age thinkin' my shade too dark I love myself I no longer need Cupid Enforcin' my dark side like a young George Lucas Light don't mean you smart Bein' dark don't make you stupid And frame of mind for them bustas, ain't talkin' "Woo-hah!" Need a paradox for the pair of daughters they tutored Like two Todds, L-L, you lose two times If you don't see your beautiful in your complexion It ain't complex to put it in context Find the air beneath the kite, uh, that's the context Yeah, baby, I'm conscious, ain't no contest If you like it, I love it, all your earth tones been blessed Ain't no stress, jiggaboos wanna be I ain't talkin' Jay, mm-mm, I ain't talkin' Bey I'm talkin' days we got school watchin' movie screens And spike your self esteem the new James Bond gon' be black as me Black as brown, hazelnut, cinnamon, black tea And it's all beautiful to me Call your brothers magnificent, call all the sisters queens We all on the same team, blues and pirus, no colors ain't a thing

[parasomnico12]

Luz: Molly is right. You can’t run around like a footless chicken.

Anne: Headless chicken, Luz.

Luz: Umm no. How is a chicken suppose to run around without a head?

Anne: How’s it suppose to run around without feet?

Luz: I’m not a chicken, Boonchuy! Why are you asking me all these questions?

Molly:*runs off in tears* I hate it when mommy and daddy fight!

Anne & Luz: WE'RE NOT FIGHTIN'!!!!

[keenlovecollection]

Digestive problems:

Flairmidable: These chicken wings are delicious, are you sure you don't want some.

Cat Noir: Absolutely not ! You stole them from the nearby MacDonalds, I'd not taking part in your thievery ! You should return the food and not eat it ! (Cat Noir's stomach starts growling)

Flairmidable: Looks like your stomach is saying otherwise.

Cat Noir: Whatever, just stop wasting time and help me defeat the akumatized villain already !

Flairmidable: Wow, it really looks like someone's hangry.

Cat Noir: No, I'm just angry with how useless you're being ! I'm not even ... (Cat Noir starts clutching his loudly rumbling stomach) that hungry (another loud growl comes from Cat Noir's belly).

Flairmidable: You're so pathetic, I was contemplating trying to persuade you to eat this last chicken wig but you're clearly not *that hungry* so I'll have it instead. Hmmm - BLURP, delicious.

Cat Noir (stomach keeps growling): Ahh I'm done with you, I'll just defeat the Akuma by himself. Cataclysm !

Cat Noir tries to Cataclysm the villain, but is thrown into a chimmey instead and he falls to the saunters. His stomach starts growling again.

Cat Noir while covering his growling belly: I'm not hungry, I'm ... STARVING !

Flairmidable: Whatever, I'll show you how a well fed boy is fightin - BLURP.

Flairmidable's stomach starts violently growling while he instinctively clutches it.

Flairmidable: What the- (stomach growling), just what were the expiration date of these stupid wings ?!?

Suddenly, the Akuma catches Flairmidable and throws him as well. His face suddenly turns green.

Flairmidable: Ughh, you're gonna - (stomach growling) ughhh I'm not feeling good, I (his stomach starts violently growling), I need a trashcan NOW !

Suddenly Flairmidable throws himself at the closest trashcan he can find and starts puking uncontrollaby.

[ohyangchon]

Alistair,

It’s Joel again. Th’ Duke’s goons got their hands on ya, and I was movin’ our shit outta our usual spot ta somewhere less infested - by the time I got there, your place had been trashed and I found ya out like a light in our bedroom.

Navezgane’s finally gone ta hell. I’m settin’ ya up with a doctor pal o’ mine, Jen, th’ next town over and she’d be helpin’ ya relearn th’ ropes while ya recover. I’ve still got crap ta settle - maybe start trackin’ down whoever did this ta ya and teach ‘em a lesson they ain’t ‘bout ta forget. When all this is said and done, I’m ridin’ up on my 4x4 and bringin’ ya home like th’ bride ya deserve ta be. No more fightin’ zombies and runnin’ ‘round like a headless chicken doin’ these dangerous jobs.

P.S. I donated all th’ stuff ya said ta donate ta some o’ th’ survivors that were helpin’ me with errands. Only thing I couldn’t bear ta throw out was that black spear ya so loved. That one’s framed up in my office. Whenever this whole crisis with th’ Duke tides over, feel free ta come pick it up again. It’ll always be yours. ---- The new town was about as quiet as I’d expected it to be.

I’d set up shop next to Jen’s place, considering her interest in seeing my recovery. Learning to reuse the spear again was the first on my agenda (everything seemed scrambled in my head, and I’d pieced together crafting some basic tools through the magazines she’d been providing me), and the comfortable if not smaller grocery store beside her stronghold had been my base of choice.

Even so, occasionally tracing the drops of rain from the attic, I couldn’t help but think of the cabin from time to time.

Alistair’s Cabin. Joel had jokingly named it that, merging my name and the cabin’s together. It had been a little out of the way, but it had been our home. This “Moe’s Grocery” was comfortable enough, but there was just a spark of joy in the place that felt woefully missing without Joel sneaking over through the balcony to tease me about future work.

Of course, I was probably just counting my eggs a little before they hatched. Settling in to the place hadn’t taken much effort, with my scavenging across the mall strip a short walk away yielding well in starting myself off. Jen was a fair employer in what she offered me, and I was certainly relieved to avoid any bears in the vicinity for the time being, yet the emptiness remained.

At the very least, the sleepy town was more forgiving that Navezgane had been. Travelling at night for a quick scavenge saw a few loose zombies but nothing particularly threatening. The most harassment I received these days were the occasional vulture, and perhaps some snakes that lived in the area - more meat wasn’t something I complained about, I’d mused over the grill with Jen one night.

“You’re pretty special, I think,” Jen admitted, dropping off the crafting magazines in my mailbox with a grin, “I’ve never seen Joel stick his head out so much for a survivor like he did for you. He’d rather die than part with his money, but he was rushing you to me promising his entire fortune to keep you safe.”

“I wooed him with shepard’s pie,” I’d joked back, trying to keep matters cool, “Once I gather the ingredients for it, I could probably make you some. Only if you want to visit and take a break from treating people. Take it as thanks for saving me.”

Jen shrugged. “Least I could do. You were one of the best runners in Navezgane. Sadly, a doctor’s duty is never done,” she replied, already leaving as she tossed me a backwards glance, “If you really wanted to help, start donating your extra food tins to us instead. You’ve been growing a robust garden in your backyard - surely you could spare some crops.”

I reddened as she returned, glancing out towards the garden. It was true that I’d started developing a green thumb after coming to town, and the sprawling farm plot of various vegetables and hops were a testament to it. Once upon a time, I’d brewed an almost endless supply of beer, and now I’d been struggling to set up the chemistry station I once had to work the same way it did back inside the cabin. Not that I was lacking time, really.

Gardening took away some of the anxiety I had about how alone the nights stretched on, even if the place hardly attracted attention. While sitting at home waiting for night to pass, I’d taken to reading the various crafting magazines in the area and teaching myself the recipes to recreate some of the machinery I’d left behind in the cabin. It was either that or demolishing cars for spare parts (why were springs so scarce here?) or checking the dew collectors for a fresh water supply to brew drinks with.

For a moment, I could forget the place was less forgiving than Navezgane.

[meadowmines]

OC-Tober/Tojoctober Day 15: Trash

This here's A-kun, the boss starts, and Aoyagi tries not to roll his eyes because he knows what always comes next: I found him in the trash behind the Wild Jackson fightin' a raccoon over a chicken wing.

It's not that far from the truth. Now that he knows Kamurocho better, Aoyagi can safely say the boss probably didn't find him behind a Wild Jackson. He remembers smelling cooking meat, and guesses it was probably over somewhere by Kanrai. And he wasn't in the trash, more like the trash can he'd swung at someone's head with the last of his strength still had some stuff in it and some of it ended up on him. And it wasn't a raccoon, it was... he's still not sure how many guys there were. The boss says two of them were already on the ground when he pulled up. Aoyagi thinks it would have been too many of them to handle alone on his best day, much less...

Never mind that. He doesn't want to think about it.

The point is, the fighting-a-raccoon story isn't that far from the truth, but it's a lot funnier, and Aoyagi might roll his eyes whenever the boss trots it out but deep down, he appreciates it.

---

"I'm just sayin, it ain't right to keep a man cooped up like this."

Aoyagi freezes halfway up the stairs to the rooftop and listens. Okay. Wow. Yeah, Chiba said he'd try and talk the boss into taking him off house arrest but man, he didn't really expect the guy to go to bat for him like this.

"Who do ya think'd even be after him? Sugihara practically had to dig him outta the trash!"

Despite knowing how awkward it would be if he were caught eavesdropping, Aoyagi snorts out a soft, humorless laugh. The irony is not wasted on him, how the bo--how Majima used to tell everyone he'd found Aoyagi in the trash behind the Wild Jackson, and now... well, now someone really did find Aoyagi in the trash somewhere, and Majima's the one who put him there.

"That was a week ago and ya ain't heard so much as a blip on the radar since," Chiba goes on. "You said it yourself. Far as any Tojo man oughta know, he's dead."

"And it's on me to make sure they don't find out otherwise," comes Nishitani's reply in that oh-so-proper snooty-ass accent. "This is for his own protection. He can accept that or not. I don't care."

Aoyagi silently flips that snooty voice the bird.

"Look. Maybe..." There's a pause, the sort that comes when someone's throwing up their hands in exasperation. "Nobody's gonna see him in the car after dark. We can drive him around, let him see the city a little. C'mon, boss. Put yourself in his shoes."

"I have been in shoes far tighter than his," Nishitani says. "I survived and so will he."

Fuck you too, Aoyagi thinks as he creeps on up to the roof for the only fresh air he's allowed to get these days.

---

This started with an innocuous enough text from Nishida: Can you come to the office? I really need an extra pair of hands for something and it's kind of time sensitive.

So Aoyagi shrugged and thought why not since he was in the neighborhood and popped in expecting to find... he doesn't know what he was expecting to find. Nishida in the middle of rearranging all the furniture yet again, maybe. Or putting up some Christmas decorations. Or literally anything but trying to extricate the boss from a fucking plastic trash can. Apparently he does this now! Apparently it has something to do with Kiryu-san! Aoyagi thinks he already knows more about this than he wants to and resolves to never ask again!

"I can't believe you got stuck again!" Nishida grunts as he tries--and fails--to pull the boss out by the ankle. "Ugh, no good. Little more, bro?"

"Little more," Aoyagi sighs, and he grabs the hacksaw to try and get his idiot boss a little more slack. "Sir, why do ya have to keep goin' in head-first? Yer legs are long enough to just step in!"

"Shut it, smartass!" the boss yelps as the sawing noises reach the depths of the can, where he's somehow managed to get his head stuck (don't worry, they poked some air holes for him but Aoyagi would rather not imagine the smell). "And watch where yer sawin'! My nuts are up there somewhere!"

"They're overrated, sir," Aoyagi says as he saws, not even bothering to disguise the quiet glee in his voice. Nishida chokes out the start of a helpless laugh and quickly clamps a hand over his mouth to keep it from reaching the bottom of the trash can.

The boss thrashes around as angrily as one can when one is stuck in a garbage can. "Easy for you to say!"

Aoyagi ignores that and sets his saw down. "Awright, let's try it again. Sir, if ya don't pop outta there this time we're greasin' ya up."

"Buy me dinner first, ya pervert."

Aoyagi ignores that too. He and Nishida carefully ease the boss-filled trash can onto its side. Aoyagi grabs a handful of ankle and a handful of leather and braces one foot on the rim of the can. Nishida does the same, on the other side. "On three. Ready... three!"

With much gritting of teeth and reddening of faces and mighty heaving, the boss finally slides free of his plastic prison in a way that sort of reminds Aoyagi of cranberry sauce begrudgingly slorping out of its can. The three of them, utterly spent with the effort, lie on the floor panting and sweating and, at least in Aoyagi's case and probably in Nishida's as well, trying to forget any of this just happened. The boss, meanwhile, looks positively blissed out as he breathes air that doesn't reek of garbage.

"So," Aoyagi says when he catches his breath, "who's diggin' who outta the trash now, sir?"

Somehow, he finds enough energy in him to start running even before the boss pops up off the floor to beat his ass.

[zaftikat]

State of the Kat – March 2023

It's probably time for a game design update since I've not talked much about it lately. I've got 4 major projects in the air right now, each progressing at different rates. I was close to having two of them become playable skeletons, but… game design burnout hit me hard in February (and that's ok)! My output between October and January was unsustainable, and Feb was the right time for a break. I took some time off of game design.

I spent that time getting much better at fighting games (much better does not mean good). There is a lot to the gameplay loop and act of practice in fighting games, and so much of it is fine-tuned to work really well. In particular, I was practising a lot of Them's Fightin' Herds. I fell in love with how the magic system works. Learning from that, I churned those crunchy bits of design around in my head, and nervously pecked at some ideas like a chicken on her first day at a farm sanctuary. So let's talk about the game that got me back to design (and the state of the other 3 projects) after the cut.

Noora Rose of Monkeys Paw Games tweeted

Tabletop role-playing games would be much better if, instead of the G standing for "games," it stood for Gamera.

and I was like, "fuck yeah, what if it did stand for Gamera?" Then, something clicked. With @efangamez's (sorry for the tag) Trans Destruction Jam going on, the idea for a game where trans people can turn into kaiju and get to destroy the mansion of a certain bigoted children's author was formed. As I tried to figure out how that would work mechanically, the hours of fighting games I had saturated my brain with said "remember Godzilla Destroy All Monster Melee?" and a PVE fighter sprung forth.

What was originally supposed to have been a cathartic lyric game started to shape itself into a game with combo decay, and super meter. As this morphed further into an increasingly crunch focused fighter, I realized it had to be GM-ful, and for sure needed a segment of play for downtime/RP. So what was supposed to be a straight forward romp had turned into a complex design project.

I'm happy to say that over the last 2 weeks, this game has taken shape into some of my absolute best mechanical design work. Instead of HP and Stats, you have a shared pool of invested resource points that are spent across multiple game actions, with an eye for risk/reward balance. Normals combo together in a really satisfying way, and lead into specials and supers just like the kind of combo loop you would expect from a 2d fighter. Beam attacks (a kaiju essential) work almost exactly like the Magic system in Them's Fightin' Herds. It all feels really satisfying as a gameplay loop. I'm looking forward to this game finally being in a state for playtesting, because hitting a perfect combo feels like you just flattened a city block (which you very well may have).

But that's not all i've been working on recently. I've also got 2 different sitcom games in the works. One is based on Letterkenny, and uses the firebrands framework. The other is based on Frasier and uses a failure first resolution system that I'm tentatively calling Crane. Crane will eventually be an SRD for anyone and everyone to use with credit. The idea was that all games using the system would be called "Crane Games" as a little silly play on words :3. Hello, I'm Listening is a game set in 90s Seattle that pits players against their characters own foibles in a quest for their happily ever after. This game is currently fully playable apart from the engine I'm working on to create "sets" which borrows some ideas from the Wanderhome location generation system to actualize locations where our characters can get into devastatingly embarrassing situations. The Letterkenny inspired Firebrands hack called Kenmare, Ontario uses the faction system to put Hicks, Skids, and Hockey Players into the messy and romantic situations you'd expect from Firebrands games. I currently have 3 mini-games designed for this, with more on the way as the inspiration comes to me. But, that's not all. I've also included what I consider to be the most comprehensive guide to developing a hockey nickname ever included in a TTRPG. When this hits shelves (and by that I mean itch) you're gonna have a blast solving small town problems, ferda. I mentioned a 4th game in the introduction, but this is running kinda long already, so I'll keep that short. I've got another trans TTRPG in the works where you play as magical girls. It's got procedurally generated dungeons where you take on a Madoka Magica-esque unreality maze, and at the centre save the soul of someone tormented by despair. It melds tarot card story games with crunchy dungeon crawls to give you a really rad experience, but I'm gonna be honest, this game is ambitious and is probably years away. I'll update you on this one if anything changes.

[forgaeven1]

❛ ye' want to go back, don't ye' ? ❜ it's more of a statement than it is a question. of course the youngest wolf would want t' go back. that's his home; that's always been his home. if osha had any power, she'd make that home safe. she'd make that home a good place without anyone t' drown it alive or burn it. nothin' would ever touch it. ah, look a' her now if mance or anybody from beyond the wall's ever got a whiff what she's becomin', to the kneelers more so, surely they'd spare her more than a few pleasant jabs. but they don't matter now, do they ? because osha'd decided to leave it all on her own accord. because there ain't no bruni t' come back to no more, only the unfamiliar cold, only the dead.

there is a reason they were running, and it wasn't only the boltons or these kneelers' many kings, it weren't. fuck.

❛ i've taught ye' well, boy. ❜ she'd taught him plenty. how to skin rabbit, fishes; pluck feathers from pheasants and chickens and ducks. she taught 'im how to light a fire, how to dry his clothes. how to clean himself when there look like there's nothin' to clean himself with. but — ❛ not enough t' fight the walkers, i didn't. we- we're safe here. ❜ here, in the south, an hour away from crossing the sea on the boat she's managed to wrangled passes for both o' them - away from the fight. all o' it. and they can stay safe, until the fightin's done. and when that's over, she- she'll get him back. she swears it. these boys... her young wolves... they meant everything t' her now. and if she'd failed any of them before they could return t' winterfell—

osha will not be able to live wit' herself.

( and she'd want t' see bran too. if only t' know she didn't make a mistake lettin' him go. )

❛ i need ye' safe, laddie. ❜

@mvndrvke — starter call