#hopefully my list also

[moog-enthusiast]

sasunaru amv i made today. i have seen maybe 10 episodes of naruto ever in my life. this has not stopped me. college student life be #crazy

[stirdrawsandreblaws]

barely in time for dunmeshi thursday - the shopify is finally live!!

there are posters (not pictured) and mugs and totes, and shirts from toddler sizes all the way up to 5x!! there are also other shirt colors than white, i just don't like them as much so i didn't bother screencapping; see for yourself in the listings

some of the designs are single-sided prints and others are double-sided to spread the art out more

there's also a bonus design inspired by episode 21 which you can preview under the cut >:3

there is only one color for this shirt. that's all you need for it.

THEY LET HIM MILK THE MINOTAUR!!!

[takeyourpillsbitchh]

One Wish🌙

Another day another @galladrabbles and I’m back with part 4 of this series, prompted by @wehangout with “Descending” by Sleep Token!

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂

“Mick, you okay?”

Mickey just stared at him, at that gorgeous furrowed brow he missed so much.

“Baby—”

“C’mere—”

They spoke at the same time. Ian didn’t hesitate, crawling on top of him, practically in his lap, pressing their lips together.

Mickey gasped into it, grasping onto thick muscles.

Real.

This is real.

“Want you,” Mickey breaths into Ian’s open mouth.

“Yeah?” Ian’s sexy, playful smirk makes his stomach twist.

“Fuck, yeah,”

“Guess I’ve been left no choice.” Then the sheets are being peeled away from his heated body.

“Missed you…”

Ian laughs, “Just fucked a few hours ago.”

Did they?

[kaenith]

Mixed Media Challenge

I've been very busy lately and not making as much art as I'd like to as a result ;_; I really want to do something fun and experimental with traditional media, so I've thought of a game — like a color palette challenge, but instead of listing color palettes I'm listing art materials (some more conventional than others).

So send me prompts with one of the following:

Character(s) from a fandom I am in (Four Swords / LoZ, Pokemon, Studio Ghibli movies, etc.)

OR a Flight Rising breed (I will draw one of my own dragons who is that breed)

OR two or more animals to make a combo creature out of

and two or more of the following:

Pencil

Ink pen

Colored pencil

Crayon

Watercolor

Acrylic paint

Sharpies

Craft paper

Aluminum foil

Yarn

Felt

Beads

Highlighter pen

Rainbow scratch-away sheets

Shrink plastic

Recycled materials

[viperwhispered]

Indulgence

Jamil finds out his sweet, loving girlfriend is totally capable of absolutely ruining him.

Pure smut, written with fem reader in mind and utterly self-indulgent (basically, a birthday treat to myself).

Ngl, this kinda feels like a femdom love letter to Jamil.

You'd thought you were joking - partially, at least - when you told Jamil you’d be happy to have him all for yourself to do with him as you wished for your birthday. Yet Jamil, the perceptive partner he was, soon was teasing out the truth of that statement from you.

So, after some rather in-depth discussions, here you are, filled with anticipation and excitement - and, you have to admit, more than a bit of nerves. Wanting something and actually going through with it always are two very different things.

“Come on, love. Just enjoy yourself, however you wish,” Jamil coaxes you, cupping your cheeks as he peppers your face with soft kisses. He’s looking at you with such openness - eagerness, even - which makes it difficult for you to get lost in your own head.

So, instead you wrap your arms around Jamil's shoulders and nuzzle your face to his, a soft smile rising to your lips.

“Someone certainly seems intent on treating me today,” you say, your own lips seeking contact with Jamil’s skin.

“Knowing how excited you are by the idea… Can you blame me?” Jamil replies with a cheeky grin. All you can do is chuckle in response, a smirk of your own forming on your lips.

“Well… Let’s hope you won't regret enabling me,” you say playfully.

Your lips finally find Jamil’s, meeting his with a soft, building pressure. You tug him closer by his hoodie, your tongue pushing between Jamil's lips and one of your hands seeking his hair. Jamil eagerly reciprocates your actions, the softness giving way to something more eager as you both deepen the kiss, your bodies pressing closer together and hands exploring.

Your eyes flutter closed as you breathe in through your nose, enjoying the way Jamil's mouth moves with yours, how your bodies are already fitting together. After a while, however, you begin to nudge Jamil backwards towards the bed, your lips still lingering against his.

It’s delightful how easily he complies, letting you guide his steps until his shins hit the edge of the bed. A gentle press of your palms onto his shoulders and Jamil’s eyes widen with momentary surprise as he falls back with a breathy oomph.

Still, Jamil’s quick to pull you down with him, grinning as you climb onto his lap and straddle his hips. Jamil’s hands slide up along your waist, your dress bunched up around your legs.

You brace yourself with one arm, your palm on the mattress right above Jamil’s shoulder, and you lean over him. You brush your fingers along his jaw, slowly tracing the contours of Jamil’s face.

“So you’re mine to enjoy as I wish tonight, huh?” you say in a low, almost contemplative tone, your thumb tracing the outline of Jamil’s lower lip.

“Yes.” There’s a slight breathlessness to Jamil’s tone, his eyes a little darker than usual, and you relish the sight of him already being affected.

Of course, this is just the beginning - but a good beginning, nonetheless, easily helping you feel more bold.

“Hmm, I suppose then the question is… Just what do I want to do with you first?” you murmur, your tone lowering to a more sensual, husky register.

You slide your thumb up, over the plumpness of Jamil’s lower lip, and press down gently. After the briefest moment of surprised hesitation he parts his lips for you and wraps his tongue around the digit, sucking on it lightly.

You’re not quite expecting the rush of warmth that shoots to your core. Jamil beneath you, his hair spilled over the bed, those gray eyes so intently trained on you as he obediently sucks on your thumb… Oh, it’s already so heady, making your mind and heart race.

“Mmm, look at you, being so good for me,” you purr. You keep your thumb in his mouth for a moment longer, enjoying the darkening of Jamil’s cheeks and the way his eyes flick over to the side even as his mouth slowly continues working.

Soon you drag your thumb out by the corner of his mouth, smearing his saliva over Jamil’s cheek. You slide your hand further until cup the corner of his jaw, your thumb coming to rest right before Jamil’s ear while the rest of your fingers slip into his hair.

You lean down further, and your lips meet in a slow, sensual kiss. Your tongue tangles with Jamil’s as you take your time tasting and enjoying him. You more feel than hear the soft moan that Jamil makes against your lips, lighting yet another fire within you. With a groan you press your body more firmly against his, wanting to feel every bit of him against you, your bodies undulating together.

You feel the firm pressure of Jamil’s hands sliding up along your back, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin as the kiss becomes more fervent.

You nip on Jamil’s lower lip, his gasp sending another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You move your hand to his ponytail, your tug eliciting another sharp inhale from him. With your urging Jamil soon tilts his head back, exposing his neck to you.

You can feel the unevenness of Jamil’s breaths beneath you, soft, delightful noises catching in his throat.

“Mmm, aren’t you such a compliant treat tonight,” you tease Jamil, hearing him huff in response.

“The things I do for you,” he muses, not a hint of bite in his words.

You chuckle and trail your lips along his jaw, planting a line of soft kisses until you’re below his ear. There you tug Jamil’s earlobe with your teeth, delighting in the way you can feel him squirm beneath you. You trace the tip of your tongue along the shell of his ear, making Jamil hiss and tense.

You chuckle, your warm breath fanning Jamil’s ear and the moisture left behind by your lips and tongue.

“Already twitching, are we?” you tease him - as if you weren't purposefully targeting the weak spots you're well aware of.

“Shush,” Jamil says, swatting you lightly.

You chuckle and move your lips lower from his ear, slowly kissing your way down along Jamil’s neck. You keep your grip on his hair, urging him to keep still as you continue teasing him with your mouth. You place warm, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, only changing your course when you come to the neckline of his shirt.

You feel the way Jamil tenses beneath you when you move up the column of his throat, even if you keep your kisses light on such a vulnerable spot. Yet, when you notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs under your lips, you can’t resist softly wrapping your lips around it. The action earns you a strangled sound from Jamil, who tries to pull back but is unable to quite do so.

“Uncomfortable?” you ask softly, peppering soft, almost apologetic kisses to his jaw.

“A bit,” Jamil breathes out, his chest noticeably rising and falling.

“Noted,” you murmur.

You move to the other side of his neck - you loosen your hold on Jamil’s hair, yet he tilts his head aside just the same, taking in a deep breath as he does so. You smirk against his skin, satisfied to see him so pliant.

There’s definitely a part of you that would love to see him like this more often.

This time you don’t settle for just soft kisses. You let your teeth graze Jamil’s skin, a shiver of delight going down your spine when you hear him hiss in response.

And when you get to that particular spot where his neck meets his shoulder you basically latch on, sucking on the skin. Jamil inhales sharply, grasping onto you tighter, his neck arching and tensing beneath you.

“Ahh-” It’s a soft, barely audible sound, yet hearing the cry escape Jamil’s lips fills you with warm satisfaction. You bite harder, feeling the way Jamil jolts beneath you, before you allow him reprieve and soothe your tongue over the spot.

“You’re not usually this… aggressive,” Jamil breathes out.

“You know you can stop me if you need me to,” you say, sticking to the softer kisses for the moment.

“No need,” Jamil says, letting out a shaky breath. You can practically feel the way he’s trying to relax, at least a little, even as he’s trying to anticipate your next move.

You tug on Jamil’s neckline, teasing as far down his shoulders and collarbones as you comfortably can with your kisses and licks.

Yet, as much as you’re loving the reactions you’ve gotten out of Jamil so far, it’s becoming more and more apparent that just teasing his neck is not enough for you.

You lean back, sitting up on Jamil’s lap. Your hands slowly trail down from Jamil’s shoulders along his body, your eyes half-lidded as you regard him.

There’s a delightfully flustered look on Jamil’s features, his lips slightly parted as he looks at you intently.

“You know… I think we’re going to have to get you undressed,” you murmur, smirking when you see the effect your words have on Jamil.

“Are we now?” he asks with a grin.

“Mhmm. I mean, I can hardly enjoy you to my heart’s content otherwise, now can I.”

You lean down for one more kiss, your hand lingering on Jamil’s side, your hips slightly rocking into his. You’re both making soft noises into the kiss, momentarily distracted by each other, before you finally pull yourself off Jamil’s lap and sit down on the edge of the bed.

“So… Lose those clothes for me, now would you?” you say with a grin, giving Jamil an expectant look.

There’s barely any hesitation when Jamil gets up from the bed. You can tell he’s feeling a little awkward with you looking at him like this, waiting for him to undress for you, yet there’s also a part of him reveling in being the center of your attention.

So, Jamil pulls off his hoodie by the neck, slowly revealing his body for your greedy eyes. His movements are fluid, deliberate, despite the mixture of embarrassment and excitement that’s evident on his features. The flex and curl of his body entrances you, your eyes drinking in every little movement and the dancer’s grace he displays.

His shirt thrown aside Jamil moves to his trousers, slowly pulling them down along his legs and revealing the way his cock is already tenting his underwear. You find yourself leaning forward, taking in all the wonders of his body - a sight you never seem to tire of. Jamil’s hair cascades over his shoulder when he bends down and he pulls one leg free, then the other, until he’s left in just his underwear, his fingers hooked under the waistband.

“Careful, you might start drooling,” Jamil teases you, clearly satisfied with your rapt attention.

“Oh, but can you blame me?” you respond playfully, feeling the flush on your cheeks.

You slide your palms down your legs, gripping your knees, as Jamil removes that last piece of clothing.

“There we go,” you say huskily, your eyes raking over Jamil’s exposed body. The planes of his chest, the softness of his stomach, the patch of dark, curly hair surrounding the cock that’s slowly stirring to life under your eyes, the lean limbs and that lovely brown skin...

“Come here,” you say, lifting a hand.

Once again, Jamil complies, and when he’s within your reach you pull him to stand between your legs, running your palms over him. Just a sliver of exposed skin always has you itching to touch - or to kiss, as it may be - so the sight of Jamil fully bare before you like this is as irresistible as ever. You press soft kisses to his stomach, your hands following the curve of his back until you can grip his rear.

“For all we discussed, I did not think you being in charge would involve you being this adoring,” Jamil says, trying to hide his fluster behind playful words.

You chuckle against his skin, squeezing his ass in response.

“All part of enjoying you, you know,” you say, looking up at Jamil with a playful, loving smile.

“Is that so,” Jamil murmurs, cupping your cheek.

“Mhmm,” you nod. “Now… Lay down on the bed for me. In the middle of it, on your back,” you say, giving Jamil’s hip a playful nudge to get him moving.

While Jamil settles down, you pull off your tights and underwear, dropping them on the pile of Jamil’s clothes. Then you walk around the bed, admiring the sight of Jamil sprawled on the bed - all for you. He’s folded his hands behind his head, his gaze following you. It feels like you’re trying to devour all of him at once with your eyes, not knowing where to settle when all of him is calling to you so.

You grab the cuffs you set aside earlier and crawl over to Jamil on your hands and knees.

Sure, it would be easier to just sit next to Jamil while you tie up his wrists. But where’s the fun in that? So you straddle his chest instead, your bare groin against his skin, and lean over to capture his hands.

“Cheeky. Are you keeping the rest on?” Jamil asks, pushing his chest against you.

“For now, at least,” you say lightly.

You trace your palms over Jamil's arms, guiding his hands above his head. After looping the cuffs around the headboard you fasten them around Jamil's wrists, making sure they're snug but not too tight.

“How’s that?” you ask, running your fingers over the cuffs.

Jamil flexes his fingers, shifts his arms, testing the feel of the bindings.

“Feels fine.”

“Good. Let me know if that changes,” you murmur.

You caress Jamil’s face, tracing his features. Your thumb brushes his cheek, and with a soft breath he nuzzles into the touch.

Gently, you guide Jamil to tilt his head to the side. You pull loose his ponytail, running your fingers through his hair.

Soon, Jamil’s hair is spilled around him on the bed, yet another lovely addition to the scene unfolding before you. Jamil, bound and bare beneath you, his cheeks darkened and eyes trained on you.

Not often do you get Jamil looking at you with such vulnerability, and the sight of it makes your heart flutter. He’s clearly filled with anticipation, too, with the trepidation of surrender. Yet, there is trust in him as well, trust in the way he’s yielding to you and all but urging you to continue.

Oh, you’d love to take a picture of him like this, commit the sight to memory and never let go of it.

Slowly, you drag your body down along Jamil’s, some of the wetness of your pussy leaking onto his skin. You feel Jamil’s tension beneath you, his breaths uneven and his hands flexing.

You only stop your movement when your pussy is right over Jamil’s hardening cock. You let your weight settle on him, pinning him down and holding him still under your warmth.

There’s a definite sharpness to Jamil’s inhale. He wriggles beneath you, what little he can, testing your control over him, and you press yourself down more firmly on him.

“Behave yourself, won’t you,” you say playfully, pushing down onto his shoulders.

“Or you’ll make me?” Jamil asks, humor and challenge evident.

“Indeed. Glad you understand,” you grin.

You draw your hands down over Jamil’s body, this time without the barrier of his clothes. From his shoulders across his chest and stomach your fingers dig into him, his skin pushed into ridges and divots under your touch.

Jamil’s body flexes beneath your touch, muscles rippling with tension and the release of it as your hands make their way. His eyes are trained on you, so intently, his palpable anticipation and the responsiveness of his body filling you with triumph.

You lean down again, your hair falling down over your shoulder and spilling over Jamil’s bare chest.

“Mmm… You really are such a delight, my dear,” you murmur, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

You return your mouth to Jamil’s skin, trailing kisses and nips from his jaw down along his neck and collarbones. When you make your way down to his chest, you twirl your tongue around a nipple, Jamil’s body jolting in response.

Yet, that reaction is nothing compared to when you bring in your teeth, enclosing that sensitive point of Jamil’s chest in your mouth but not directly biting the nipple. You slowly increase the pressure of your bite until Jamil’s breaths turn into hisses, body writhing.

Oh, he’s actually whimpering.

You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to keep some rein over your baser instincts. Oh, how you want to push harder, grip tighter. How you want those sweet noises to increase in volume and pitch until neither of you would know anything else.

Once again, you soothe over the spot with soft kisses and kitten licks, a dark part of you hoping you’ve left a mark that might stay for a while. It is not like you to hurt or mark just for the sake of it, but Jamil’s reactions, the thought of the evidence of your dominance lingering on his skin… Oh, it is most tempting indeed.

“Was that too much?” you ask lowly, just in case, still feeling Jamil’s tension beneath you.

“Nhnh… I told you. You can let go tonight.”

You laugh in response, a mischievous grin on your lips as your eyes meet Jamil’s. Oh, you can tell he means it, despite the heaving of his chest. There’s that shine in his eyes, such a vivid spark of desire. A desire for more, a desire to see how much you can do and how much he can take.

“If you say so,” you say with smug satisfaction.

You return to your task, your mouth - your lips, your tongue, your teeth - traversing Jamil’s body, taking your time to enjoy every inch of skin as you slowly move lower. The dips of his chest, the ridges of his ribs, the softness of his stomach… You take your time savoring - and marking - it all.

With your actions Jamil’s getting increasingly restless, drawing in sharp hisses of breath, tugging on his restraints, squirming beneath you.

Yet, not once has he asked you to stop, or to go easier on him.

You’ve slid down far enough for you to feel the twitch of Jamil’s cock against your breasts, his hips wriggling beneath you. You press your hands on him more firmly, keeping him still, nipping on the skin of his stomach both to warn him to behave and to urge him to react even more.

Moving lower again, your tongue follows the line of his hip towards his groin, teasing and tantalizing. Yet when you feel the coarse curls against your cheek you change course, moving to kiss your way down Jamil’s thigh instead.

Jamil hisses out your name, his hips bucking, and there’s no hiding your smug, satisfied look.

“Something the matter, my dear?” you ask, as innocently as you can muster. You grip Jamil’s hips tighter while you suck the soft skin of his inner thigh between your teeth.

“Ahh!” Jamil cries out, his leg twitching.

“You’re such a tease,” he huffs, nearly panting.

You let out another satisfied laugh and drag your nails down the outside of his thigh, loving each and every one of Jamil’s reactions.

“You’re the one who told me to enjoy myself and not hold back,” you say with a smirk.

“Please. At least…” Jamil’s words trail off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“You’re going to have to ask for it to get what you want, you know,” you say, your words low and sultry. You caress a splayed palm up along the top of Jamil’s thigh, your thumb just brushing the edge of his pubes.

“Please. I’m aching for you,” Jamil pleads, emphasizing his words with a twitch of his hips, his heavy cock bobbing with the movement.

Oh, that plea was one of the sweetest things you had ever heard from him, your core throbbing just with the sound of it.

You tilt your head, as if thinking over his words.

“Asking for relief, are you, my love?” you ask. You brush your fingers over his hardened cock, the lightest of touches on the velvety skin, yet that is enough to make Jamil inhale sharply.

“Yes,” Jamil breathes out, his eyes wide, expectant, when he looks up at you.

There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil.

Then again, he had been the one telling you to not hold back. That he could take it.

You reach over to the bedside table and pull out a vibrator from the drawer. You keep it concealed from Jamil, just to prolong the tension - though he does know well enough what sort of things have been stashed away there.

A pump of lube from the bottle on the nightstand, smeared against the tip of the toy with your palm. You wipe your hand mostly clean against Jamil's thigh and bring the vibrator to the underside of his cock. For now, you keep it turned off, just slowly moving it along his sensitive parts in circular motions.

Even like this, there are a few spots that make Jamil's cock twitch or body tense.

Then you turn on the vibration, and Jamil actually gasps.

“How's that?” you ask in a low tone.

“It's…” Jamil pauses, as if considering the sensation. “It… feels good.”

“Well, my dear… If there’s something you like in particular, I’d love to hear it,” you purr.

At this point, Jamil’s responsive enough that it’s not difficult for you to tell what the most sensitive spots are just by judging his reactions. Yet, hearing him admit it, too, telling you what he likes, what he wants more of… oh, it’s absolutely delicious. So, whenever he does admit to something feeling good, you gladly reward him by giving special attention to that particular spot.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” you say with a satisfied smirk, pressing the vibrator more firmly down against the sensitive spot right under the head of his cock, your other hand cradling his hardness to keep it still.

“Yes, nghh…” Jamil groans in response. You can tell he wants to buck and twitch, yet he’s trying to keep still with you touching such sensitive parts.

You press down, ease up the pressure, time and time again, until Jamil is quivering, his legs twitching and body curling with the intensity of it all. You can see his arousal, impatience and tension building, his whole body pulled taut as a wire, only for you to ease up once again and switch to gentle caresses.

If you’d enjoyed his whimpers before, now Jamil’s noises and reactions were absolutely delightful. Whimpers, hisses, groans and breathy words… Oh, it was driving you wild, seeing him like this.

“Please…. How long do you plan on just teasing me?” Jamil whines, a mess of longing and frustration.

“Well… I could listen to those sweet noises you’re making for quite some time, you know,” you say casually, flipping the vibrator to life once again.

A strangled, indignant noise catches in Jamil’s throat, the color of his cheeks quickly darkening further. You can’t help laughing in response, even as you lean down to press a greedy kiss to his lips.

“I mean… You are so wonderfully responsive right now, and it’s just absolutely delicious seeing you like this,” you murmur, your lips brushing Jamil’s cheek.

“You’re tormenting me,” Jamil huffs.

You can see how taut the bindings on his hands are, how tense his body is as he practically trembles to do something instead of just having to take what you have to give.

“And do you dislike it?” you ask with a smirk, pressing the buzzing vibrator against Jamil and pulling another wide-eyed gasp out of him.

Jamil swallows thickly enough that you can see the bobbing of his throat.

“...No. I don’t,” he sighs.

Jamil takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself.

“Please… Let me have more of you,” he begs, looking over the dress you’re still wearing.

Perhaps you could grant him a little more. He’s been such a delight, after all.

“Hmm… Maybe I can give you that,” you murmur, once again weighing your options.

You settle the vibrator down to a spot you know gets to Jamil, drinking in his reactions as you slip your hand under your dress. You slide your fingers between your pussy lips, fondling your clit. You know Jamil can't quite see what you were doing, the hem of your dress covering it up, yet you’re sure he can guess. 

The way he looks at you, eyes burning as his bindings keep his hands away, certainly suggests so.

“Patience, my dear,” you say teasingly.

The buzzing of the vibrator and Jamil’s shaky noises are joined by the lewd sound of your fingers finding your wetness, the shuddering breath you take when you find just the right angle. Your eyes don’t leave each other, both of you watching the other get lost in the pleasure - all of it by your hand.

Then, finally, you move, pressing your wet cunt right against Jamil’s aching cock. Jamil’s hips buck, a low, needy noise falling from his lips. You rock yourself against him, coating him in your juices as you prepare yourself to take him.

“Won’t you let me see you?” Jamil groans, his eyes brimming with desire, his voice ready to break at any moment.

“Maybe if you ask me sweetly enough,” you say, reveling in the power you have over him.

Yet, before Jamil has the chance to consider begging, you take his cock into your hand and guide him to your entrance, rubbing the tip along your folds. Your dress is still pooled around you, covering the way you’re joined, the hem gathered over Jamil’s belly.

Jamil’s moan is pure music to your ears, your core throbbing as you slowly ease him in. It’s a delicious feeling of fullness, his hard, straining cock stretching you open, settling snugly within you.

Once Jamil's fully enveloped by your welcoming cunt, you settle down more comfortably on his lap. You grab the vibrator you just used on Jamil and slip it under your dress to bring it to your clit. With a soft gasp you lean your head back, a jolt shooting through your nerves when you find just the right spot to tease with the toy. 

You keep mostly still on Jamil, the faint reverberations of the vibrator and the flutter of your pussy around Jamil’s cock all the stimulation you grant him. It’s always particularly wonderful, combining such stimulation with the sensation of having your pussy filled - and even more delicious now, when it’s Jamil inside you, when you get to enjoy his every reaction to your actions.

Jamil growls, his hips bucking up to you nigh uselessly. Your name on his lips is somewhere between a plea and an admonishment, your continued teasing and denial driving him towards his breaking point.

“Love… Please, please, I need you to move, I need you to milk me with this perfect pussy of yours, please…” Jamil whines, another desperate thrust of his hips finding enough purchase to nearly topple you forwards.

You click your tongue and give Jamil a warning look.

“Keep still, my dear.”

“I can’t help it when I want you so much. Do you even know what you’ve done to me?”

Jamil seems so sincere, all his pretenses fallen, yet you can recognize the part of him that likes to rely on honeyed words to get what he wants. Still, his desperate desire is undeniable, his body quivering beneath you, all of him full of wanton need that only feeds your own arousal.

“Why don’t you enlighten me, then?” you goad Jamil, still pleasuring yourself with the toy, feeling the warm pleasure fill you as your body tenses.

Jamil pauses, his tongue darting out from the corner of his mouth.

“You… You have such power over me, driving me completely wild with the way you’ve been teasing me… Please, won’t you have some mercy on me? I need you, need to feel you properly, need both of us to feel good..”

The genuine need in Jamil’s tone makes you groan, a shudder running down your spine all the way to your cunt.

So you drop the vibrator to the bed and place your hands on either side of Jamil, bracing yourself as you begin to move.

“Ahh, yes!” Jamil moans, his head tilted back, his hips quickly moving to match your rhythm.

You’re tempted to remind him to keep still, but at this point you can’t resist, either. In fact, you love feeling his eagerness, the desperate way he’s rutting into you from below.

You lean back, pulling your dress over your head and tossing it away. Your bra soon gets the same treatment, finally leaving you bare for Jamil’s eyes to devour.

“Better?” you ask with a playful smile as you lean down again, beginning to ride Jamil in earnest.

“Yes,” he breathes out, bracing his feet against the bed so that he can move with you with more force.

Soon, you’re both panting and moaning, all the buildup leaving you both on the verge of release. Your bodies meet time and again, a forceful smack of your hips as you take Jamil’s cock deep within you over and over. It’s so delicious, the way his cock is dragging along your insides, the way Jamil’s fully let go and just chasing more of you. You lean lower, your lips meeting in a sloppy, delirious kiss that’s muffling both of your moans.

“Gonna come for me, aren’t you? Gonna fill me with your cum?” you murmur hotly against Jamil’s mouth, a moan falling from his lips in response.

“Mhmm, I’d love to drive you into the mattress right now, smother you with kisses, touch you all over…” Jamil groans, his hands clenched into fists in the cuffs.

You can’t help your breathless laugh in response. “Well, turns out that’s my privilege tonight,” you tease him, adjusting your position so that you can tug on Jamil’s hair before giving him another fierce, hungry kiss.

Jamil’s eyes scrunch closed, his breathing uneven, his thrusts faltering. You pick up the pace, sliding up and down on his cock, until you see the bliss of his orgasm overtake Jamil. He groans, spilling his load inside you, face contorted in pleasure as his body trembles.

“There you go,” you breathe out, giving Jamil another deep, passionate kiss, stealing the last of his breath away.

Your hips slow, settling down against Jamil’s again, his cock and cum swallowed by your cunt. You grab the toy again, leaning back, gasping when you feel the buzz on your clit.

“Mmm, let me see you come, let me feel you squeeze around my cock,” Jamil urges you, even breathless as he is from his own release.

It does not take you long to follow after Jamil. The tension has your legs trembling, the pleasure building in your core until you can’t contain it anymore. The burning bliss takes you under, both of you gasping when your pussy clenches around Jamil’s cock in a tight squeeze. Your back arches, body jolting, as you ride the waves of pleasure.

Eventually, you toss the toy aside and slump against Jamil, your lips fumbling against his, both of your breaths ragged and chests heaving. You remain there for a moment, savoring your afterglow and the feel of Jamil’s body against yours.

“I swear, love, if you don’t let me touch you soon…” Jamil says in a low, breathy tone.

You chuckle, pecking Jamil’s cheek quickly.

“I suppose I should,” you mumble, lazily moving to undo Jamil’s hands despite the languidness that’s taken over your body.

You kiss over Jamil’s wrists as you release them, making sure he’s fine. There’s some indentations on his skin, presumably from the way he pulled against the restraints, but nothing for you to worry over.

As soon as he can, Jamil pulls you close, feeling you up as if making up for lost time. You chuckle, gladly enjoying the touches and the skin to skin contact.

“Mhmm… How are you feeling, my dear?” you ask softly, still a little out of breath.

“Oh, love… You really are something else,” Jamil mumbles, his face nuzzled into your neck.

You smile, feeling the warm satisfaction settle within you.

“Glad you enjoyed yourself, then,” you murmur, settling more comfortably against Jamil.

“Who knew my sweet girlfriend had such a side to her,” Jamil says, his tone teasing - though you suspect he’s also trying to cover up just how affected he is.

“Who knew my stubborn boyfriend would be so willing to go along with it,” you tease back.

You take in a soft breath, enjoying the feel of Jamil's body against yours. It was always particularly sweet, feeling Jamil’s body against yours after sex, and you found yourself practically soaking in Jamil's presence. 

Jamil's lips lock with yours, the kiss languid and tender, yet tinged with the remains of your passion. 

Happily, you sink into the softness of the moment, the heady satisfaction of your lovemaking mixing with the warm comfort of the current moment.

“So…” you murmur, your fingers trailing on Jamil’s skin. “Do you think you’ll let me do this again sometime?”

Jamil chuckles, giving you an amused, affectionate look.

“Hmm… I think you could persuade me, yes,” he says teasingly. “Though I will definitely have to pay back the favor sometime, too.”

You chuckle.

“Maybe I could be persuaded, too,” you grin and move in for another soft kiss.

Hopefully y'all enjoyed this (and this doesn't have just the target audience of me personally). As always, would love to hear your thoughts!

Also I wrote this on an awkward loan laptop instead of my own PC so please, if there's any mistakes, do let me know so I can sort them out.

This line sure was telling of my whole writing process: "There are a few different options on your mind - a few different temptations, calling to you, as you wonder just how much you should push Jamil." So many places I could've gone with this, but this is where we ended up (this time).

If you'd like to be tagged for my future works, let me know and I'll be happy to do so!

Tag list:

@colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist

@perilous-pasta @twstgo

[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Taglist Form

Summary: For Josh, home is where you are. | Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe

Pairings: Josh x Wife! Reader (Josh POV) | Genres: domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: a little mention of spice

A/N: I loved Josh's most recent insta caption about the stage being his ethereal living room he gets to share with us, but I also love hurt/comfort, so I made it angsty and fluffy for Josh and Baby. I hope you like it! ♡

“The stage is your ‘ethereal living room’?”

Josh looked up from the charcuterie board he was meticulously arranging to see you on your phone, presumably scrolling through the concert pictures he’d posted half an hour ago. He smiled.

“Yeah, you know.” He tapped a row of crackers into line until they were perfect. “The shows are a place where people come together to enjoy each other’s company. Somewhere that feels like home.”

You didn’t say anything. He glanced up at you again.

“Ethereal means — ”

“I know what ethereal means, Josh.” Your face went pink. “It’s just not usually a word you use to describe a living room.”

He was a little surprised at your tone; it bordered on sounding upset, but maybe that was just because he’d embarrassed you, though he certainly hadn’t meant to.

“I was just trying to help, baby,” he said gently. He tried for some humor. “And you’re right, it’s not usually a word you’d use to describe a living room. Definitely not our living room in the state it’s been in lately.”

That had the opposite of the intended effect, and he wished he could take it back when your face fell. “You don’t think it’s ready for tonight?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “It’s ready now. Everything looks great. I just meant that we haven’t been as good about tidying every night, so it’s been a wreck recently.”

“Right,” you said, but it was doubtful and tense. “Well, I tried to get most of it done while you were at work — ”

“I know, baby.” He felt that he’d botched this conversation pretty badly, but you also seemed much more sensitive than you usually were. “It was a huge help, and I’m grateful that you did most of the cleaning when we made the mess together.”

“I didn’t make it quite as ethereal as a concert, though,” you said, and your laugh was a little strained.

He wondered at your fixation on the wording of his caption, but maybe you were trying to make it into a running joke.

“The Kiszkas wouldn’t know what to do with a living room too perfect for this world,” he teased. He set the board on the other side of the island and went hunting for the wine glasses. “Could you grab me the corkscrew, honey?”

You did as he said, but there was a pensiveness to your body language that made him worry. You’d been in a great mood all day, his happy bubbly girl, spending the day shopping and tidying and preparing for the dinner party you were hosting. Jake, Sparrow, Sam, and Danny were due to arrive any time now, and Josh had thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you after work getting your home ready for your family. He didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in mood, and he racked his brain for what could have caused it and what he could do to fix it.

“Dessert smells really good,” he said sincerely. “Did you end up putting the strawberries in there too?”

You handed him the corkscrew and stood uneasily as he opened the Riesling, toying with the sleeve of your pretty dress.

“No,” you said quietly. “It’s just regular blackberry cobbler. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

A frown tugged at his features. “I don’t,” he said. He popped the cork out.  “Of course I don’t mind. That sounds great, honey.”

“It’s not very exciting,” you said apologetically.

He didn’t know where this was going. Surely you weren’t upset about the dessert you’d made, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what you really were upset about. He decided to stick with his usual strategy, which was mostly just continuing to be sweet to you. 

“I don’t need exciting, baby,” he said, kissing your cheek. “It’ll be perfect. I can’t wait to try it.”

Working together, but without your usual quips and jokes back and forth, you and Josh put the finishing touches on dinner before the doorbell rang. Josh put his dishtowel over his shoulder and went to welcome your guests in, and he was happy that you joined him.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said. “I love that dress on you.”

You touched a hand to the neckline of your summery black dress patterned with little red cherries. “Oh, well, it’s only a sundress. But... thank you.” The usual enthusiastic enjoyment of his compliments he loved hearing was nowhere in your voice. He wished he could wait to open the door and ask what was bothering you, but the doorbell was now accompanied by rhythmic knocking the type of which only a drummer could deliver. 

“I’m telling you,” Josh said, trying one last-ditch attempt to coax a smile out of you. “This ethereal living room business — it’s better if it’s just our plain old living room with these hooligans.”

The smile you gave him was clearly only for his sake, not even reaching your eyes. Discouraged and unable to stall any longer, he turned the door handle. 

“I didn’t mean to push this on you,” you blurted. Your expression was anxious and regretful. “I’m sorry, Josh.”

By the time he’d processed what you’d said, the door was already open, and your family was coming inside full of laughter and bearing gifts of wine and appetizers and card games to play. He wanted to jump right into the festive atmosphere his brothers and sister-in-law brought with them, but he was completely preoccupied by your blurted-out apology for... what? What could you have to be sorry for? He looked across the foyer and felt his heart twist when he saw your strained smile as you welcomed your family inside.

“Alright, Kiszkas,” he said with more levity than he felt. He ushered everyone into the living room, pointing out the drinks and snacks on the kitchen island. “Eat, drink, and be merry. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He asked Danny to watch the sauce simmering on the back of the stove, wanting to try and get a moment with you before dinner. He left Sparrow and his brothers chatting and snacking in the kitchen and found you in the dining room, double-checking the place settings you’d already made perfect an hour before.

“Baby,” he said gently. “What did you mean, you’re sorry for ‘pushing this on me’? Did you mean dinner?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I should have asked you before I planned it.”

He leaned against the doorframe. “You did ask me. Didn’t you?”

“I don’t think so,” you said sheepishly. “I think I just told you I was doing it, and you went along with it.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t mind,” he said sincerely. “I’m glad you planned it.” He debated giving you space or pressing a little deeper, and he risked the latter. He came around the table to the side where you stood.

“I’m glad we’re all spending time together,” he said. He took your hands in his. “I’d like to enjoy it with you, too, but I wouldn't be happy if you were unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy,” you lied.

“Baby,” he chided tenderly. “You’ve been out of sorts for a little bit now, and I want to help you get back into sorts. I just don’t know how.”

You looked up at him. “Are you sure you’re happy with... all this?”

He raised a brow. “Dinner? Or, like, the universe as a whole?”

You sighed. “No, I mean... do you like being home? Maybe it’s a little lackluster after touring.”

“That could not be farther from the truth,” he said, without a moment’s hesitation. Was that all that was bothering you? 

“Silly girl,” he said with a smile. “Of course I like being home. I love being home.”

“But it’s... it’s just... me,” you said lamely. “Just our house.”

“I’m still not seeing a problem,” he said, affectionately teasing. “I love you, and I love our house, especially when it has all the people we love in it drinking all our wine.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Then — “Are you sure?”

For a moment, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He felt a surprisingly sharp flash of hurt at your doubt. He tamped it down to focus on you, his sweet wife, who apparently felt that his homecoming had been spent wishing he was back out on the road.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he finally said. He cupped your face in his hands, reading something sad and needful in your expression but unable to figure out how to fix it. “I love being home with you, baby. I miss you so much when I’m away. You don’t know that?”

He saw your eyes sparkle with tears and wished desperately he could understand how it had gotten this bad, wished he could figure out how to fix it.

“Hey,” he said softly. He kissed you. “I love you. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“But it’s not — ”

“It’s perfect,” he said, gently cutting across your protest. “And though I love the way you open our home to our family, even just being with you, eating takeout in our pajamas, would have been perfect too.”

You gave him a watery smile at that, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“There’s that smile,” he said tenderly. He brushed the tears from your face. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, baby. You're everything to me. You’re my heart. You know that, don’t you?”

You nodded and kissed him, and he was so happy to have helped even a little. He’d probably ask about it again, try to understand what had made you think such a thing so that you'd never have to think it again. For now, though, your family was waiting, and you seemed eager now to get back to them.

“Don't tell them I was crying,” you said, running your hands over your cheeks, trying to hide the telltale signs. “Tell them we were having a quickie or something.”

He chuckled. “I'm not sure I’m skilled enough for that to be believable, baby. Less than five minutes is a lot to ask.” He kissed your cheek. “And I won’t tell them you were crying. That’s between you and me.” To his way of thinking, a husband's job was to protect his wife at her most vulnerable, not to expose her. These moments between you, the words and soft touches and intimacy you shared — those were just for the two of you, and Josh treasured the privilege of being the one you shared yourself with when you needed a little extra love.

You took his hand, and when he was sure you were ready, he led you back out to where your family waited. 

He saw you return to your usual self as the night went on, and he loved to hear your laugh and watch your smile light up your face as you spent time with your family. Sam, Danny, Jake, and Sparrow — they never failed to bring warmth and light with them wherever they went, and Josh knew that there was no better medicine than their terrible jokes and affectionate bickering and safe, easy love. You were always beautiful, but joy made you ravishing; you shone as brightly as the sun when you were happy, and he felt a weight come off his shoulders as you came back to yourself.

After dinner, you found a spot on the couch; as Josh went to fix glasses of wine for both of you, he watched the drama unfolding in the living room. Catty corner to you, Sam and Jake were playing guitar, Sam casually and Jake with characteristic seriousness; Sparrow sat perched on the arm of Sam’s chair, and Danny sat on the floor.

“Watch him,” Danny said, slipping a hair tie from his wrist and aiming it like a slingshot at Jake. “I bet he won’t stop playing.”

“No, Danny!” Sparrow giggled around the straw stuck in her wine glass. “That would be so mean to my poor Jakey.”

“He wont’ even notice,” Danny said, unable to hide an impish smile. “Watch.”

He shot the hair tie at Jake, and it popped him on the forehead before tumbling down the guitar and landing on the floor. Jake didn’t miss a beat.

Danny and Sparrow dissolved in uproarious laughter, and Jake merely rolled his eyes with a telltale smile.

“You’re all idiots,” he said.

“Not me!” Sam protested. He watched Jake’s fingers, invested in learning the tune now. “I’m trying to play with you, but geez, can you dial it down from rock god so I can figure it out?”

Jake slowed his playing, talking Sam through the notes, and good-naturedly accepted a kiss on his forehead from Sparrow. Danny tried to find the hair tie again and hit Sam with it when he did, earning himself a nudge with Sam’s foot that made Danny laugh and lean his head against Sam’s knee in apology.

Josh brought your drinks over to the couch and handed yours to you. “For you, baby.”

You accepted it gratefully and patted the spot next to you. “Thanks, honey. Come sit with me.”

He did, draping one arm over the back of the couch behind you, pleased when you scooched closer to him. He gave you a sweet, chaste kiss.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked gently.

You couldn’t help a dull blush, but you gave him a bashful smile. “Yes. I’m sorry I was so... tearful earlier.”

“That’s alright, honey. Would you mind telling me what it was that got you so upset?”

You ran the pad of your thumb over the bottom of your wineglass. He was patient as he waited for you to gather your thoughts.

“It’s silly,” you said finally. “You’ll either laugh or be annoyed that I made such a big deal about it.”

He considered that. You usually took things in your stride, and neither of you made a habit of being offended or upset over trivial, accidental things. Whatever it was, it had hurt you, and he would validate that feeling no matter what it turned out to be.

“I promise I won’t laugh,” he said. “And I don't think I’ll be annoyed.” He really just wanted to know what it was, and he told you so.

Your nervous, wandering fingers found his, and he was content to let you play with his wedding ring. You brushed your thumb over the shiny gold surface.

“It was your caption,” you said. “You know, for those pictures you posted.”

He was bemused for a moment. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah,” you admitted quietly. “There’s no greater feeling in the world than returning to the stage. It is my ethereal living room. A place where things feel lighter than air. I love you.”

If anyone had asked him to recite from memory the caption he’d written himself, he couldn't have done it. The fact that you knew it word for word told him you must have been saying it over and over again in your head since you’d read it.

He thought of the wording in light of your feelings and saw how it could have hurt you. It had been their first show back after a long break spent at home, and while you were in your plain old living room at home and missing him, he’d apparently been away in a much better living room doing much more exciting and wonderful things without you. Of course he hadn’t really been comparing a concert to the home he shared with you — it was only an Instagram caption, after all, and not a serious commentary on his life. But even though he felt it was reasonable for you to have known that, he also knew that sometimes the heart wasn’t reasonable.

He twined his fingers with yours. “Sweet baby,” he said. “I’m sorry it hurt you. It wasn’t my intention at all. I don’t know if it helps, but I wasn’t thinking about our real life living room when I wrote that. I just thought it sounded clever.”

“I know,” you said. You gave him a wobbly smile. “It was clever. It’s sweet. And the fans deserve a little love note from you. I just...”

“You just missed me,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. “I know, baby. I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m sorry I made such a big deal out of it. I could have just been honest that I was upset. But really, I should have just taken it like you meant it and not started catastrophizing, thinking you weren’t happy at home.”

“Well, sometimes our imaginations run away with us,” he said, patient and kind. “For the record, I am happy at home with you, baby. You in your old sundress making regular blackberry cobbler is the kind of thing I dream about when I'm away from you. And if I could only have one, I’d pick our less-than-ethereal living room and be glad to share it with you for as long as I lived.”

You touched his cheek. “Why are you so sweet to me?”

“Because I love you very much,” he said simply. He kissed you. “Tell me you know that.”

“I know that,” you said softly, tenderly. “Of course I know that. I love you very much too.”

He kissed you again, taking his time, drawing you closer to him. You tasted like sweet wine and sounded so pretty when your breath caught, your fingers brushing through his curls, your heartbeat light and fast under his hands, almost ethereal.

From the other side of the living room, there was a vague commotion and contagious laughter from Sparrow and his brothers. 

“Should we check on them?” you asked, your voice muffled and smiley as you kissed him.

He chuckled. “They’re fine. Hush and let me kiss you.”

You did, and when you threw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, he decided you weren’t ethereal after all. The two of you together, surrounded by the ones you loved, laughter and joy and music filling your home — it was something better than ethereal, something earthy and imperfect and steady. For all he loved his work, this right here was exactly what he wanted.

“I love you, Mrs. Kiszka,” he said gently.

You smiled and set everything right in his world. “I love you too, Joshy.”

@wideminded-dreamer and @spark-my-nature were particularly excited for this one so hey here you go <3

[semi-sketchy]

I know this is beating a dead horse at this point, but I just started thinking about this the other day and...

How many people that were previously enemies has Sonic ACTUALLY befriended?

Like my knowledge of some old games and the handhelds ain't great, but...

There was Knuckles, who I think is the only one in the classic era.

He never really befriended Gamma in SA1, just left him to Amy.

Also he didn't befriend Chaos, just beat the anger out of him.

The next one was Shadow in SA2, although they're still kinda rivals?

I don't think Rouge counts in SA2 since she wasn't really an enemy of Sonic specifically, even in Heroes it's really Sonic and Shadow that start the fight.

Gemerl is a robot who was reprogrammed to be friendly, I wouldn't count that as "befriending someone".

Him and Jet are rivals in every Riders game, this never changes.

Blaze in Rush is someone that fought him and they became friends, so it's clear cut, she counts.

Silver in '06 does as well.

Do we count Shade from Chronicles? I think she had a boss fight. I know very little about that game but it's not canon, right?

Merlina is kinda a grey area? Like they were friends, he stopped her evil plans and was still nice to her. I don't know if in context that meets the criteria.

On top of that I don't think the Knights of the Round Table count. Sonic is there to take the swords and they work together at the end. I don't think there's any hard feelings, but don't know if this counts as "friends".

Sage could be the next example, but she's still loyal to Eggman. I don't think what they briefly shared was friendship as much as Sage wanting to save Eggman.

I haven't played Superstars but Trip doesn't even have a bossfight, does she? I don't think she counts.

Not looking at the method, just purely if they became friends down the line. Out of all of those, there's 4 total (if you count Shadow, which I do) with 1 it's complicated and 1 non-canon. That's very few when you consider how large the game cast is.

An overwhelming majority of his friends weren't ever hostile with him to begin with, like the Chaotix, Amy, Tails, Cream, Emerl, Big, ect. There's plenty of other cast members that are still have him on their shit list, like Eggman, Infinite (if he's alive), Fang, Metal, Eggman Nega, the Deadly Six...

Now I'm starting to wonder where this idea of it being a frequent even came from.

[kagooleo]

my WIPs are so unorganized but rice is forever, in doodles and Even when coding >:]

[uter-us]

radfem help !!

2 of my little cousins (14yrs and 15yrs) are both girls dating boys right now, and together we are coming up with a "dealbreaker list" of things they will never put up with from their bfs! and also we are including positives, like so they aren't just looking for the absence of bad things, but actual positive things

what do yall think are the most important things to add? (i put extra info in tags)

Thank you so much!!!

[ryonello]

a shrimp fried this rice :3

[abubblyboo]

does anyone else have a rotating list of f/o’s

like you’re obsessed with one for a while and then it naturally fades…but they’re still super important to you so you keep them in your favorites list for easy access any time you’re missing them or wanting to be surrounded by people who love you

[freaky-flawless]

Reblog and put in the tags how many dolls you've added to your collection in 2023, and what your favorite one is!

[fictionadventurer]

So many types of books that have strong summertime associations that I spend all my time cycling through cravings for certain genres or books.

Within the last month, I have wanted to read/reread:

Jane of Lantern Hill by L.M. Montgomery

The Electrical Menagerie by Mollie E. Reeder

Valiant by Sarah McGuire

Retellings in general (especially Cinderella retellings)

Golden Age mysteries, especially Josephine Tey and Agatha Christie

The Moon-Spinners by Mary Stewart

Books set in locations that are not America or England, especially warm climates

Books set in wintery/cold weather settings

Science fiction/space opera

Superhero stories

Civil War history/Presidential history

D.E. Stevenson books (and other mid-tier vintage light fiction)

Wilkie Collins books

Graphic novels

And I'm sure there are others that I'm forgetting

[some-mari-thoughts]

Hey all!!

I'm VERY likely to be in this MAP!! We are still looking for animators tho, so if you wanted to try animating for a map this is the perfect time

I really love the storyboard potential, this shall be cool!! Some of the more complex parts are not even taken yet at all

More MAP talk under cut

If you apply, list your discord name as nickname in application! The leaders don't speak english too well

Also theres many younger applicants n participants so the server is a bit chaotic

[the-converse-high-top]

Affixes, Clitics, and Particles

i think that these parts of language are really cool! so im going to try to explain them :D also i definitely did not get sent down an hours long rabbit hole of linguistic papers and i also definitely didn't find out that the reason i wanted to make this post is actually a misconception :D i love ignoring things :D

Affixes:

the wikipedia article for affixes says that "in linguistics, an affix is a morpheme that is attached to a word stem to form a new word or word form."

in hopefully simpler terms, this basically means that an affix is a letter, or a group of letters that form a single sound or syllable, that is attached to a word stem to form a new word or word form.

some examples of these are the somewhat well known prefix and suffix, but also the beloved infix:

prefix: undone suffix: spotless infix: abso-fucking-lutely

sidenote: my favorite thing about english infixes is that they pretty much only work with expletives. in fact, there's a tom scott video about expletive infixations!

Clitics:

wikipedia defines a clitic as such: "a clitic is a morpheme that has syntactic characteristics of a word, but depends phonologically on another word or phrase."

in layman's terms: a clitic is a letter, or a group of letters that form a single sound or syllable, that has the function of a word in a sentence, but depends on another word or phrase based on the sound rules of the language.

a few examples of clitics can be seen in finnish (which also has a great many affixes but we're not talking about those right now):

-ko/kö -han/hän -pa/pä -kin

the spelling of the clitic depends on vowel harmony. if you want to learn more, this dissertation is all about finnish clitics!

you may be asking yourself how to tell the difference between clitics and other parts of speech. well this study has just the thing for you! quite a few tests are suggested by the author of this study if you want to be able to tell if something is a clitic or not, including some of the following:

a phonological test observe how the clitic forms a phonological unit with an independent word. (do not ask me how this one works i dont know) accentual test "clitics are accentually dependent, while full words are accentually independent." put simply, if you can't put stress on it, it's probably a clitic syntactic test a word can stand on its own and be subject to normal word processes such as tense changes while a clitic cannot do this

Particles:

"'Particle' is a cover term for items that do not fit easily into syntactic and semantic generalizations about the language[.]"

read: "particle" is a miscellaneous, catch all term for anything that doesn't fit into the above two categories (or any other word categories like nouns, verbs, etc.)

the author of this study (who i'm going to refer to as Zwicky from now on because it's easier) says that theres no such thing as a particle and that its distinction from affixes, clitics, words, and clauses is unnecessary. i think thats an. interesting take.

anyway even though Zwicky just said theres no such thing as particles (which, how could he do that? theres kids around! we dont want to ruin the magic!) he concedes that there is actually a group of words that are commonly called particles that he agrees are actually particles. but he decides to call them discourse markers instead. because fuck you.

i dont like any of the words that Zwicky included so i made a list of my own:

-ね (ne) eh (canadian english) innit (common transcription of "isn't it", british english)

the funny thing is im coming out of this still not entirely clear on what a particle is. i thought i knew, i did some research, realized i didnt know, and now i'm here. based on how Zwicky puts it, it feels like the category of "particle" exists to accommodate the fact that there might be words* that arent affixes, clitics, words, or clauses but it feels like Zwicky is just being contrary. I should probably have done more research but this post was supposed to be done 24 hours ago.

out of context highlights from my research process: - sanskrit - the panini rule - doch - verbosely long section titles

*i dont actually mean words, i mean a morpheme which is a letter or a group of letters that form the representation of one sound that carries meaning, but i didn't want to make that sentence long and unreadable

if i'm wrong, please tell me! i would appreciate being corrected, i know i am not an expert on this topic in the slightest.

[happy-hermit]

WAKE UP BABE NEW LAST LIFE SCAR ANGST JUST DROPPED !!!

Basically the premise of this one is that once everyone returns to hermitcraft from last life, Scar’s hair starts turning white as a side effect of isolation and loneliness :) I have made this man very sad. Enjoy!

Part Two

( @stiffyck @hopepetal )

———

Scar sleeps for maybe three hours that first night back on hermitcraft, a combination of residual respawn pain and an endless supply of nightmares keeping him firmly trapped in that hazy state between awake and asleep — not to mention the added feature of a pretty much permanently elevated heart rate. But he’s home, so. Maybe that still counts for something, even if it doesn’t feel all that different. Just another place that he’s alone.

(He’s always known that he can be a lot to handle. He knows that he’s loud and excitable and takes up space. It just— didn’t used to feel like a problem before. Now he knows better.)

Pale rays of muted sunlight are filtering through the window behind him as he sits up in bed, groggy and still sore. Jellie is having no issues with her own sleep schedule, still curled up by his leg with her eyes closed. She looks content, and if only one of them gets to sleep well, Scar is glad that it’s her. She deserves it.

Probably the only reason he notices it as soon as he does is because it falls right in front of his face. Literally.

Hair is tickling at his eyes, and Scar has a hand halfway raised to brush it back before it registers that something is… strange. He grabs the chunk of hair by the ends and tries to focus on it, eyes crossed and vision blurry as he attempts to figure out what his sluggish mind is telling him. It’s just his hair. It’s a little longer than he usually has it, sure, but he’s been putting off a haircut, and— Wait.

Scar throws back the covers and scrambles out of bed, pajamas twisted and limbs like jelly as he makes a mad dash to the mirror on the opposite wall. He’d checked last night, he knows he did, and it had been back to normal, it had all been brown again, he’d checked—

His reflection is staring back at him, wide-eyed and horrified. At the front of his hair is a single streak of bright, stark white. His heart skips a beat and then trips over itself to make up for it, pounding in his chest. He exhales shakily, hand coming up to brush over the section but dropping before it makes contact. Scar blinks. It’s still there when he opens his eyes.

Okay, don’t panic, he thinks, absolutely panicking. It’s just a little bit, it doesn’t mean anything. Just— don’t jinx it.

Mechanically, he gets dressed for the day, donning his Swaggon outfit and pretending that everything is normal, that it’s just another day, that the last few weeks never happened. Pretends that there aren’t bags under his eyes. He tucks the white streak of hair into his top hat and pretends that that doesn’t exist, either.

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do today. All he really feels like doing is hiding. Not a very Scar thing for him to do, but maybe that was what everyone wanted. What did it say about him, that the first time everyone had a choice on whether to be his friend or not, he ended up alone?

Maybe it was their gentle way of telling him they didn’t want him around. Maybe they’d been trying to tell him for forever, and he’d always just been too stupid to notice.

It’s just an opportunity to be better, he tells himself, forcing an optimism that tastes bitter on his tongue. He just has to be someone new, is all. He has to become someone that they’ll want to stick around. And if that means being around less in general, then— Well. He can do that.

He can be better.

First, though, he has to be someone that they don’t feel obligated to worry about. The white hair is not helping.

(He doesn’t even know where it came from, in Last Life. One day he’d pulled back the hood on his cloak and his hair had been white. Maybe it’s a vex thing he isn’t aware of. He’d ask Cub, but he’s supposed to be trying not to be a nuisance. He can figure it out himself. It’s not a big deal.)

He checks the mirror one last time before he leaves his base, making sure that nothing obvious is out of place. He gives his reflection a weak grin in an attempt to hype himself up, and drops it when it doesn’t work. It had looked hollow. Fake. It hadn’t reached his eyes.

Huffing a little in morose irritation, Scar turns around and looks down at Jellie, sitting on the edge of his bed and gingerly licking her paw. His smile comes a bit more naturally, this time.

“What do you think, Jellie?” Scar asks, voice a bit hoarse. He clears his throat and hums in thought. “What should we do today…”

Usually, on a day where he had nothing better to do, he’d find the other hermits and bug them. Maybe even play a prank, or ramble about various build ideas, or help them with their block palate. Now the thought of doing so is enough to tie his stomach into knots. It makes his heart beat a little bit faster. He can’t.

He used to think that they didn’t mind his company. Now, he just— Well, he’s finally noticed, is all. They’d been too kind to tell him. It’s his turn to be kind and give them space. Even if it hurts.

He’ll work out what he’s been doing wrong — what he did to make them leave him alone on that mountain. He just has to figure out what exactly would make them want to stay. Maybe he just has to be less… himself.

“How about we start with some fresh air, huh?” Scar pets Jellie on his way by, rifling through his desk for his worn notebook and a semi-sharpened pencil. He puts them in his inventory and turns back to his cat with a smile. “We’ve got a brand new project to work on, Jellie! And I think everyone will like it. Or— Well, I hope they will.”

It’ll be a bit like a present. A gift from him to everyone else. He’s going to make it the best he possibly can. He can fix things, he can. He has to.

With a new sense of purpose, Scar stumbles into his shoes and slides down the ladder out of the Swaggon, Jellie tucked safely in her little messenger bag. His body aches sharply when he hits the ground, the old injuries from the game making themselves known; an arrow wound to the chest, burns down one side of his body, lungs still sore from drowning. The injuries aren’t actually there anymore, of course, but he’s always had a tough time on respawns. The pain tended to…linger, for a while. On rare occasions, the injuries even scarred.

Regardless, he ignores the pain, adjusting his hat and setting off down the path to find somewhere to brainstorm. It’s a nice day today, with clear skies and a gentle breeze sending wildflowers swaying in the grass. The Boatem Pole is still standing, even though the village had been empty for weeks as they played Last Life.

(It had been Mumbo and Pearl’s first game. He hopes they’re doing okay. He would check, but… )

New idea striking him, Scar changes direction and starts towards the Boatem Pole, smiling a little up at it, remembering that first day. (They were kind enough to let you stay, and look at what you’ve done. Nothing but make them regret it.) His smile drops. They probably wish they’d turned him away. His chest aches, and he twists the strap of his messenger bag in a white-knuckled grip. Jellie meows, quietly, confused, and Scar is guilty of so, so much.

“Sorry, Jellie,” Scar says softly, and pets his cat even softer. She rubs her cheek against his hand. There is so much that needs to be fixed.

He exhales shakily, walking to the edge of the Boatem Hole and peering down, making sure that no one else is there. All he can see is the void, and so he equips his elytra and jumps. He holds carefully onto Jellie as he glides down, eventually landing safely on the floor of the meeting room with the hopping minecarts. The machine is turned off, currently, and the minecarts are still and silent. He could learn a thing or two from that.

Scar lets Jellie out of the bag and watches for a moment as she explores, chasing and swatting a nearby bat. He giggles a little, then sighs softly and sits down, pulling out his notebook and pencil, flipping to a blank page and folding down the corner to keep his place. He chews absentmindedly at the eraser on his pencil as he thinks. Where to start?

Well, any good project needed a name.

At the top of the page he writes it, tongue poking out between his teeth as he focuses on making it neat.

‘Operation: Be a Better Scar :)’

He adds the smiley face on a whim, and it makes him crack a little smile of his own. This is supposed to be a good thing. This is one project he can’t back out on.

Underneath, he starts a checklist. His brow furrows, biting at his pencil again. What first?

(There’s too much to fix. You might as well just leave.)

Forcibly, he shakes his head. That’s the last resort. Maybe it’s selfish, but he doesn’t want to go. Redirecting his focus, he puts his pencil to the paper.

1) only be somewhere if I am invited

There, that one should be easy enough. Seeing someone out and about was not an invitation to just walk up and start talking. Not anymore, anyway.

Feeling a bit more confident, Scar gets to work on writing more rules.

2) don’t doth bother busy hermits

(No one wanted to listen to him talk while they were trying to build, he figures.)

3) no pranks! unless helping someone else’s prank

(Grian came up with better ones anyway, and he could still have fun!)

4) no rambaling

(Self-explanatory, even if it’s hard to spell. He talks too much.)

5) build less stuff

(Grian had been teasing him about how big his starter base is. Maybe it had been real irritation. He takes up too much space.)

6) no shady deals

(Annoying, he was sure.)

7) be more help

(The hermits always needed more materials.)

8) less dying

(He knew that thought it was funny sometimes, but it had to get irritating, right? Picking up his stuff and having to wait for him to come get it.)

9) no mobs around bases

(He’d blown up part of Grian’s alley, that one time. He can’t do it again.)

10) be happy

(Pretend to be. They shouldn’t have to feel obligated to help him. They shouldn’t have to be uncomfortable just because he is.)

Finally, Scar rereads what he’d written, wracking his brain for more. He can always add stuff later, but he’d rather have it all done now so he can get started.

He doodles in the margins as he thinks: a cartoonishly angry bdubs; Jellie peeking over one of the numbers; Mumbo with a lopsided mustache; a tiny desert with a single cactus; a few sketchy flowers. Eventually, he gives up on coming up with anything else, closing the notebook and tucking it back into his inventory.

“We’ve got a good start, Jellie,” Scar says happily, looking down at his cat where she sleeps on his lap. He scoops her up and puts her back in the messenger bag for the flight home. “I’m feeling good about this.”

Or at least, he can pretend he does. The ache in his chest and the twisting in his stomach and the white in his hair doesn’t have to matter.

(Rule number ten. Be happy.)