#im practically feral myself

[cyberscratch]

some pokémon inspired cat designs!!

these designs are for sale, 15 usd a pop - dm here or on toyhouse to claim :]

[ukitake-jushiro]

I need to be more of a furry

[miguelsslvt]

SO AFTER READING your ... Miguel smut 😩✊ which is so freaking good and I wanted to ask if you can make an bodyguard/brat tramer !Miguel x FM/sassybrat!reader PLS I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE PLS SMUT please I'm on my knee on this idea like pls imagine Miguel trying n to do his job but FMbrat!reader wouldn't stay put and bend her over any surface and GO ABOUSTLY *Feral*ON her not giving READER ANY BREAK ! ONLY making her an moaning MESS while SAYING such thing like

"Oh? ..f-fu..So... This will shu-fu-ck!~....You so tight huh? You like when.!-.. I treat you like a...~!*fucking*slut" *"Mis extremas*" ( I use Google translate I'm so sorry if it wrong pls correct me I am!😭)

🗣🗣🗣🗣😩😩✊I CANT I NEED THIS PLS GURLL!.mother I love your writing🙌

(Im definitely a normal think about this man ,Miguel ohara)

bodyguard! brat tamer! miguel x brat! reader smut

word count: 445

TW: hugely nsfw, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie.

A/N: SWEETHEART I FEEL YOU!! i was so excited to do this request because as a brat myself, i love this concept so much. brat tamer miguel has my heart djhisdjdgkl!! anyways, welcome to the club! ^^

god, did you regret not listening to his warning sooner. you were in the kitchen, whining as usual.

'no! i don't want to go see my dad!!' 'y/n your father wants to make sure y-' 'i don't care! who are you for me to listen to!? you aren't anyone special!' you whined. god, you were such a princess.

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

'still not anyone special am i, sweetheart? because i-.. ay coño... i think i'm the one fucking you so hard you can't focus right now.~' he said behind your ear, as you held onto the kitchen counter for dear life. you were a moaning mess, eyes rolled back as miguel relentlessly plowed his way into you.

'aww poor princess.. can't even process a single word other then my name hm?~' he teased, pulling your hair back as you let out a squeal. 'm-miguel!! p-lease~ g-gonna-' 'oh no no muñeca.. only good girls get to cum. and i don't think you've been good have you?' he mocked, as you moaned in response, drool spilling from your mouth. miguel let out a light chuckle.

'aw look at you, you're lucky your dad let me to take care of you, hm? i wonder what he would think if he saw you like this.. all blabbering nonsense as your bodyguard fucks some sense into you~'

god, you couldn't feel anything. you were close, so close. but you knew that if you'd cum, miguel would make this so much worse then it had to be. even though you liked a challenge, you couldn't even form words to think right now, let alone another punishment.

'i-i'll b-be g-good! i-i swear!' you cried out, a moaning mess as tears and drool fell down your face, down to your neck. your hair stuck onto your forehead, as the restr was held by miguel's strong hand, where his other was on your hip, guiding you deeper onto his 9 inches.

'good? yeah? you'll be good for me muñeca?' he panted, feeling his climax arising. 'm-mhm!! y-yes- m-miguel ple-ase!~' you moaned out, as he let go of your hair and started to play with your clit.

you were practically chanting 'yes, please, miguel' as if your life depended on it. 'g-gonna..! i- m-miguel-' 'shh.. cum for me sweetheart, i know i know, you've been too good for me to not let you cum.' he said, as with that, you broke.

as your pussy spasmed around his cock, miguel let out a loud groan as he came moments after you, filling you. you gasped for air, as he panted with you.

wait, didn't your dad request to see you earlier? is that a knock on the door?!

[themintman]

I HAVE SURVIVED COMIC CON! (just about-)

I am! A little scared of how many people took photos with me! I underestimated how much people like villagers lmao BUT EVERYONE WAS SUPER CHILL AND NICE I LOVE YALL 🩷

some of my incredible achievements this convention:

Was "hrm"ed at by an entire queue of people. I gave them all a good giggle im quite proud of myself for that 😋

Accidentally clocked some poor guy in the head with my hat while trying to take a selfie (sorry bro 😞)

Played my first DND game and rolled the WORST charisma possible in my first throw (1. How the fuck did I fumble that badly 😦)

GOT RECOGNISED AS NURM?????? HOLY SHIT IM STILL GOING FERAL (cosmiczomb on tiktok, the selfie above is her's ⬆️🩷🩷)

Not my achievement but SOMEONE ASKED MY DAD (who went in his regular clothes) IF HE WAS STEVE. LIKE SINCERELY ASKED HIM. THIS IS HIS SECOND ACCIDENTAL COSPLAY IM SOBBING

I have! Less photos to post then I first thought! (Like I said people like villagers I got loads of photos just not. On my phone. 😭) But I do hope y'all enjoy this wee morsel of Nurm content.

Thank you father for taking these photos (but I will practice selfies good heavens it looks so much better)

[multi-fandom-of-madness]

for flufftober.. would it be possible to have day 6 be with swiss x reader?? idk i fell like even tho swiss is usually dancing all feral and shit on stage, he’d also be good at other forms of dancing? like i see him being able to do all that cutesy romantic dancing and dipping the reader and all that:( anywho- idk if you’ve already gotten a request for that one and if you have, you can go with that one cause i know this one is extremely late. i just saw that prompt and immediately thought of swiss being able to do shit from salsa dancing to waltzes to jazz. idk man. he just gives those vibes… maybe even classically trained? ANYWAYS IM SO SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG AHHH <333

Step On Your Toes

Flufftober Day 6: Dancing together

Pairings: Mountain X Reader X Swiss (Implied Poly!Ghouls X Reader)

Type: Fluff

Summary: Reader plans on surprising Swiss for his birthday with a dance, yet cannot dance to save their life. Mountain is more than happy to help.

Warnings: Light drinking, a bit of self-doubt

Word Count: 2,390

Notes: Read here on ao3. Find my flufftober prompt list here. Okay, so I absolutely loved both of these ideas, so I'm realllyyy hoping y'all are cool with me merging them :) Songs mentioned: Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Ray & Grow As We Go by Ben Platt. Second prompt under the cut for space reasons :)

~

“Ouch,” Mountain whispered as you once again stepped on his toes.

You sighed and dropped your hands, backing away from the tall ghoul. “I’m sorry…I don’t think I can do this. That’s what now? Eight times? I just want to surprise Swiss with a cute little dance, but all I can do is step on your toes.”

“Hey now, we have plenty of time to practice before the party. I’ll help you get this right,” he assured, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“But I haven’t been able to, and Swiss’s birthday is in less than a week. It’s my first year that I get to spend his birthday with him, and I want it to be perfect.”

Mountain pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on your head. “Swiss loves you whether or not you can dance. That ghoul is just insanely talented and a show-off. He isn’t going to love you less if you step on his toes.” His hand rubbed your back in a soothing manner.

“I don’t want to step on his toes. I want this to go smoothly.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay not to surprise him with a dance if you’re that worried about it,” he offered.

“But I want to. I just…I don’t know…I feel like I’ll make a fool out of myself,” you said in a whisper as you walked over to the corner of the practice room to grab your water bottle.

Mountain chuckles, pulling you back against him, hugging you tightly. “Now, now, if anyone will make a fool out of themselves, my bets are all on Dewdrop and Phantom. You’ll be the least of everyone’s worries,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. “A few mistakes can’t throw a wrench in your plans. Plus, stepping on his feet a few times won’t ruin the dance. You were so determined to get this right when you initially asked for my help. Where’d that spirit go?”

“Probably the same place that my ability to dance went,” you mumbled as he began to sway while holding onto you. He hummed as if he were considering something. “What are you plotting?”

“How about this?” He spun you around, lifting you with ease and placing both of your feet on the tops of his. “I will move, and you will let your body move with mine. This way, I can teach you how to move the right way, then you can try it without me guiding you. How does that sound?”

You look up with a concerned look. “Do you actually think this is going to help at all?”

“Maybe…maybe not,” he shrugs. “And if it doesn’t, then we’ll think of something else to surprise Swiss,” he offered, holding you against his chest as he stared at you, his green eyes showing nothing but kindness.

“Maybe I can just get him a cat.”

“He already has Dewdrop. We don’t need another one,” Mountain teased. “Will you at least try my idea?” He asked, a slight pout on his face.

“Alright…alright, we can try it,” you sighed, giving in. You felt silly doing this, but there was a part of you that wanted this to work.

Mountain pulled his phone from his pocket and pressing play on a slow song, beginning to sway at first before moving his feet to the beat.

It wasn’t the song you intended to use with Swiss, but Mountain had a playlist of slow, mostly cheesy, romantic songs that he played while dancing in the rain or in the greenhouse with Rain.

“Summertime Sadness?” You questioned as the first notes rang through.

Mountain let out a laugh. “Hey, it’s a good song. Not every song on my playlist has to be heavy metal,” he said, moving his feet in a consistent pattern.

“The big, scary, earth ghoul is a Lana fan. Who would’ve guessed?” You teased as he danced around the room with you.

“I only know a few of her songs. Can’t lie and say they aren’t good, though,” he grinned, glad to see your mind on something other than the dancing. That only lasted a few minutes when you looked down to see his steps. He let out a gentle ‘tsk’, taking one hand off your hip to tilt your chin to look at him. “Eyes on me, love,” he whispered. “Let your body feel the beat, not your mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just feel,” he said as if that alone made perfect sense, placing his hand back on your hip.

“Earth ghouls…cryptic little creatures,” you huffed, trying to keep your eyes up.

“I am anything but little,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, okay, you aren’t little, but you’re still cryptic as hell.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” you laugh. He holds you close as you both move to the music. He has one hand on your waist and the other holding your hand. It’s sweet and simple, and you almost forget that you’re not moving yourself.

At one point he sets you on the ground, and there’s a small look of panic in your eyes before he spins you. He lets you twirl once, guided by his hand, then puts a hand on your waist, dips you, and gives you a chaste kiss. He grins as he pulls you back to stand on his feet.

“What was that for?”

“What? Can’t kiss my favorite human?” He chuckles, continuing to move along to the music.

“Well, you can. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you confess, laughing with him.

The song comes to an end and both of you just stand there, not quite moving. “Want to try another song like this, or do you want to try it without me guiding you?”

You pause to think, weighing the options. “What if we do two more songs like this, take a break, then let me try it on my own.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiles, already pressing play on the next song.

—

The night of the party comes rather quickly. You and Mountain had been practicing for a few hours each day, determined to get this dance down.

The room feels like it’s practically alive. People are dancing, talking, and drinking. There’s some sort of upbeat song playing. Even the decorations add an extra buzz. Truly a party designed for the lively multi-ghoul.

You were in the corner, sipping a glass of champagne, and practically freaking out. Mountain had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“You’re too tense,” he said gently. “You did phenomenal yesterday. Didn’t even step on my toes once.”

“I know, but that was practicing. And with you. Swiss is…such a good dancer. I’m pretty sure he knows every dance ever created. I’m going to embarrass myself.”

“You’re not going to embarrass yourself. I promise. No one will even notice if you mess up because if you mess up–”

“–when I mess up.”

“–if you mess up, he’ll cover for you and make sure no one knows that it was you. Trust me, he’ll guide you through it if he has to, but you’ll do amazing,” he assures.

“I don’t know…this just feels like a mistake.”

“Look at me,” he says, tilting your head up. “He’s going to love it. He’ll be thrilled that you even made the attempt if this ends horribly. He loves you, and nothing will change that.”

You sigh, staring at the bubbles in your glass. “I know…I just want this to be good.”

“It will be. You need to stop doubting yourself,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Swiss walks over with an excited grin. He’s dressed up - as is everyone else - but has a silly cone on his head, strapped to his chin that reads ‘Birthday Boy’ that Phantom and Aurora made him. “Well hello, lovebirds,” he laughs, throwing an arm around you. 

You smile and press a kiss to his cheek. “Happy birthday, Swiss.”

“Are you two enjoying yourselves?” He asks, looking between you and Mountain, taking a sip of whatever was in his cup.

“I am, don’t know about this one,” Mountain teases, which gets him an elbow to the ribs.

Swiss looks down at you, a look of confusion on his face. “Now why is that?”

“No reason,” you say, taking a sip of champagne and giving Mountain a dirty look for saying something.

“Oh come on, you can’t not have a good time at my party. It’s my birthday,” he pouts. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong is that Mountain can’t keep his mouth shut.”

Mountain chuckles. “Guilty as charged.”

“No, seriously, is something wrong?” Swiss asks, he takes his arm from around your face to look at you face to face, trying to gauge your true feelings.

“It’s nothing important, Swiss. I swear.”

“Pinky promise?” He lifts his hand, making a fist, and extending his pinky.

You interlock your pinky with his. “Pinky promise,” you assure.

You chat for a few more minutes until Swiss gets called away by another guest. Mountain turns toward you with a skeptical look.

“So when are you planning on bringing him out for the dance exactly?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess when it feels right.”

“You worked yourself up, didn’t you?”

“What? No,” you said with playful denial, taking a sip of champagne to avoid eye contact.

“I’m not letting you leave this room until you dance with him,” he persists, taking the glass from you. “You worked so hard, and he’s going to absolutely love to see you surprise him.”

“I really don’t-”

“Nope. No more ‘I don’t’ or ‘I can’t’,” he interrupts. “You really should pull him aside, and ask him to dance. You don’t need to keep doubting yourself.”

“You’re right,” you sigh. “Are you sure he won’t laugh if I embarrass myself?”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well that was just practicing. He’s not going to laugh.”

“Fine. Alright, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Good,” Mountain says, grabbing your waist and kissing the top of your head. “You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

“Thank you, Mountain.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Go knock ‘em dead,” he grins, pushing you in the direction of Swiss.

You swallow the lump in your throat, then walk over to Swiss who’s in a conversation with Rain and Cirrus.

All of the ghoul’s knew about your surprise, except Swiss of course, so Rain and Cirrus exchanged a knowing look, ready to let you take Swiss away.

“Hey, do you mind if I steal this one?” You asked, slightly hesitant, putting a hand on Swiss’s shoulder.

“By all means,” Rain smirks, taking Swiss’s glass and party hat, then pulling Cirrus away.

You take a shaky breath, then pull Swiss to the dance floor as the opening to Grow As We Go begins.

“What are you doing?” Swiss asks with a slight smile. You move one of his hands to your waist, wrap that hand around his neck, then hold the other in your free hand.

“Surprising you?” You offer, beginning to sway to the music and trying to move your feet in the way Mountain taught you.

“You know you’re supposed to watch your dancing partner, not your feet, right?��� He teases.

You look up, a slightly worried expression. “I’m sorry,” you say with a slight frown.

“Are you worried you’re going to step on my toes?”

“A bit…I haven’t been able to do this without stepping on Mountain’s at least once.”

“So that’s where you two have been sneaking off to,” he grins. “If it makes you feel better, my feet are much smaller than his.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. He’s been helping me for the past few weeks. I know you really like you to dance, and that you’re really good at it, so I figured I would try to surprise you.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job so far. You’ve only stepped on my toes once.”

“I did? Oh, I’m sorry,” you frown, looking back at your feet.

He grabs your chin and smiles at you. “Hey, did I complain? No, I didn’t, so let me see those beautiful eyes.”

A shy smile comes over your face. “I’m sorry, I just…really want this to be perfect.”

“The fact that you felt comfortable enough to do this for me makes this perfect as is. You’re perfect,” he says softly.

The crowd is watching, but neither of you seem to care. It’s just a moment for the two of you. You bring yourself closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“You’re doing amazing, you know,” he whispers, resting his head on top of yours.

You hum in acknowledgement and sway to the music. It seems to fade out, like the only thing happening in the room is Swiss holding you close. It’s the perfect moment.

He begins to hum along with the song, then pushes you away to spin you just as Mountain had done many times before. You let him twirl you before he wrapped you back in his arms with your back to his chest, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You giggled as his facial hair tickled your cheek.

He smiled and let out a light laugh. “You look amazing tonight.”

“I really should be the one complimenting you, birthday boy.”

He laughed again. “It’s my birthday, I can do what I want.”

He spun you out once more as the song began to wrap up. Holding you by the waist, he bent you back, planting a sweet, yet passionate kiss to your lips as the song ended. When he brought you upright, he was holding your cheek as he continued to kiss you.

“Thank you,” he whispered, keeping his face close to yours and staring into your eyes.

“I love you, Swiss. Happy birthday,” you said as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

He wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into a tight hug. “I love you so much, sweetheart. This was truly an incredible surprise,” he said, squeezing you against him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” you smile, wrapping your arms around him and returning the hug.

“And guess what?” He pulls away, a playful grin on his face.

“What?”

“You only stepped on my toes three times.”

[emchante]

More on softcore porn streamer!max hottub stream! (Maybe a bit on workout max??) Okay so i may or may not have found

https://pin.it/4mPmFtnIX

https://pin.it/1aHNgg3gN

https://pin.it/65LRDyr3G

https://pin.it/1RsDNZQ65

Tell me this isnt total insanity on my behalf because im downright feral for these images? Like his tits in the ice bath??? The way hes biting his lip? AND THE WAY HIS HAIR FALLS ON HIS FACE. And dont get me started on his nose?

I dont know how to word this but hes just so.. on stream he’d be patting his face down and it’d make his face all rosy red and so so sexy that it’d remind you of a workout stream he did a while back where he just finished on the treadmill face all sweaty shorts riding up his thighs sweat dripping down his torso🫦

When he grabbed his water bottle, splashed his face to cool down and then takes a chug, grabbing a face towel and patting his face down whilst hes sighing from the workout and when he looks at chat he sees how animalistic they are going knowing he did exactly what he needed to, reeling in those donations to reach a goal. He says something like “Wow! So many donations I may just have to do this again” with a wink

- 🐨

Oh my days I am not a writer at all and I wont be re-reading this because I may embarrass myself but I had to get it out! I saved these for when you responded because I saw these AFTER I submitted the ask? Horrendous of pinterest tbh

🐨 NONNIE HELLOO MY BELOVED<3<3 was meant to answer this yesterday and completely forgot, forgive meee </3 as for being embarrassed— please never be!! i LOVED reading everything you had to say, and i hope you keep it going in the future!! also so evil of pinterest hello?!

first off, THE PICTURES!! love the pictures of him in the ice bath. like hello? the man tits? let me slide into that tub and lay on them!!

AND GIRLIE!! tell me all your horny rambles about these photos and any photos!! love to hear them and chat about it!!

GOOD GOD THOUGH?? his red, rosy face is a sight to see, but sometimes your mind just goes to the gutter— imagining that’s how he looks when you’ve been edging him for too long, or how he looks when he’s just came for the third time.

THE TREADMILL THOUGH?? his workout shirt is clinging to him, the dark patches of sweat at his pits, all across his torso, a little bit on his tummy. and his thighs are practically fully on display with how far his shorts have ridden up. there’s actually a peek of his boxers on view due to how high they are.

splashing the water over his face and it’s dripping all down him, the beads of water falling down his jawline, gathering at his chin before it drips right off. he grabs the towel and nuzzles his face into it, pushing it up to ruffle at his hair that’s mixed with water and sweat. it’s messy and sticking up in places, but oh it’s hot.

now how bad would it be to imagine that’s his face after you finish over it after he’s ate you out?

your thoughts are interrupted at max’s deep laugh, watching as the donations and comments coming flooding in, causing max to hit his next donation goal.

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Finally, a Cassandra POV. Sorry that it's a tiny bit shorter but I have had one of most emotionally traumatising weeks of my life. Don't worry, next chapter I'm back on my shit with smut and all.

Warnings: 18+, drugs, alcohol, sex work, references to past abuse, domestic violence

Hot afternoons can feel like an impending scream. It's the mundanity about them that has always killed Cassandra. All the filth and despair of wide, yawning night with its neon lights and hookers on pavements and aching solitude is manageable; at least she can focus her misery on something concrete. But these baked afternoons, when the hours bleed into one amalgam of humming fans and beading sweat, plunge her into a white hot light of clarity at just how fucking sad she is. She's indulging herself too. Has been for the past three fucking hours, doing nothing but picking at her nail beds and staring at a stack of Crash's books against the wall and studying them. He dog-ears his pages, she already knows that, and from here she can see that he cracks the spines too, not surprising. Cassandra quickly pushes down the bubbling sentimentality she feels at the closeness of Crash in those simple acts. Harder still when thinking about those ice blues eyes, the absent minded twisting of a wedding band that's no longer there but the memory of an ex-wife that Cassandra knows nothing about but her name, that oily scent of tobacco on his fingers when he pushes them past her lips. The trailer door opens and he comes in: Crash holding a pharmacy bag,

'You're up,' he states, not daring to make eye contact after what transpired last night. Cassandra thinks it's the first sheepishness she's ever seen cross the stoic lines of his face. She doesn't reply.

'I got you some aspirin,' he continues, setting the bag next to the bed, regarding her for a moment longer which she returns with a glacial look.

'I don't have to talk to you,' Cassandra deadpans, not even bothering to sit up.

'I know,' Rust returns, with an equal frostiness that sends Cassandra into indignant fury.

'How dare you take that mild-ass tone with me,' she spits, now shifting to sit up, 'I got fucking drugged and fucked and then made a complete goddamn fool of myself spewing my guts on the side of the road like some fucking teenager.'

'You are a teenager.'

'I'm twenty fucking years old.'

'Oh you think that a couple months, some cussing and hard-ass attitude means you ain't a teenager. You've still got your goddamn baby hairs, Cassandra.'

He's right and it makes her sick. All the things that she's done to shed that oppressive sheath of girlhood to become a woman. Woman: the word always seemed glossy and unattainable to Cassandra. Fuck if she didn't practice at whatever she thought it entailed: learning how to properly inhale, switching from tights to stay-ups, conditioning herself to like beer by forcing herself to order Blue Ribbons when she went out. It would also mean a whole new type of navigation in her relationships with men; the idea of sex now lingering behind every exchange. Sex. It's what has practically defined her life since she went through puberty. Who to do it with, who not to, how to use it, how to make that biker think you want him without ending with your head bashed against the stage when he realises you don't. Cassandra has learnt to keep her desire and attraction to a minimum. Like with dope dealers, the dumbest shit you can do is get addicted to what you sell. Then Crash came along and fucked up her whole plan. In and out of stripping, pay for rent and save up for student debt, get away from dad and stay alive and sane. But no, not since that night that he came in that year ago, hair starting to turn from that golden to the caramel brown that it is now and cut surprisingly short for a biker. He'd sat with Ginger and a few other of the Iron Crusaders, nursing a Lone Star with a look. far more terrifying than the feral cruelty behind his companions' eyes: ice cold impassivity. A man with nothing to lose has a degree of violence to him allowed by his complete detachment to anything and anyone. Cassandra knew this and yet still locked eyes with him every time she saw him watching her on stage. Never a lap dance, though. She'd tried once and his disgust had made her feel smaller than any of the copious insults dolled out by her father,

'No.' Crash had said firmly, pushing her off with a surprising gentleness.

'It's fine, y'know. It's my job,' Cassandra had tried to reassure him, sitting next to him. He'd turned to look at her and had asked,

'How old are you?'

That had made her arch her eyebrow,

'19. Why? You like 'em older?'

To a less observant person, Rust's jaw muscle twitching would've gone unnoticed,

'Yeah, I do,' he'd said, shoving a twenty dollar bill in her panties' waistband, Cassandra noticing how he'd chosen to place it on her hipbone, 'Clear off, baby.'

'Want me to send over Rose? Red-head, real pretty.'

As Cassandra had said this, a burly Iron Crusader had called her name from across the club, making her turn,

'Yeah, baby?'

'Come bring that pretty, lil' ass over to daddy's lap,' the man had slurred, making Cassandra wince and start to head in his direction. That was until Rust had grabbed her wrist, halting her,

'Easy, Thunder,' he had called over to his fellow Crusader, 'I haven't decided whether to take this one for a spin, yet. She any good?'

'The best, Crash,' Thunder had cackled back, raising his beer in salute to him. With that, Crash had pulled her down into the booth next to him, lighting and a cigarette with complete disregard towards a confused Cassandra perched next to him. When she'd tried to straddle him again, he'd pushed her off,

'Listen, I have a quota to make so do you want a fucking lap dance or not?' She had huffed with a slight agitation in her voice that she hadn't yet learned how to conceal. In those days, she was hungry for it: money, sex, attention, security. Too hungry to learn how to manage it when it spilled over and tinged her tone in desperation.

'What's your quota?' Rust had asked through an exhale of smoke, seemingly uninterested.

'Around 50 dollars, at least.'

He'd arched his eyebrow at her,

'You tryin' to do one over me?'

'I'm desperate, not stupid. If I was trying to scam someone, I'd have picked some liquored up truck driver who hasn't gotten some since Missouri,' Cassandra had stated dryly, making Rust's lip quirk up momentarily.

'50 dollars, at least, by the end of your shift, huh?' he'd drawled, cigarette pinched between his fingers.

'Yeah.'

'What time's your shift end?'

'About another hour.'

'How much money are you on?'

'Straight floor work? About 40.'

Rust had reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tattered, leather wallet before putting down 5 ten dollar bills,

'50 but you stick with me until you're done.'

Cassandra had eyed the bills with suspicion and Rust dryly stated,

'Don't be an idiot, Cassandra. Take the fuckin' money and just sit your ass down.'

'You know my name?'

He had jerked his head towards a huddle of Iron Crusaders in another booth,

'You're popular.'

'Oh.' she'd nodded, slightly deflated by the implications. Rust had picked up on the tinge of shame in her eyes,

'Ain't no shame in it, baby.'

'You don't have to be nice about it.'

'I ain't nice.'

Cassandra had regarded him for a moment longer, thrown off by his apparent self-discipline,

'So, you're stuck with me for an hour. What do you wanna do?' she'd asked, tucking her knees onto the booth. Rust had barely spared her a sidelong glance,

'What're you drinking?'

'Jack and coke.'

He'd scoffed at that,

'You're nineteen.'

'And you're a biker running meth so who's breaking the law more, here?'

That had gotten a proper look from Rust, almost turning his head in her direction before handing his glass,

'How's straight whiskey?'

Cassandra had taken the glass from him and taken a straight gulp while being watched by an impassive Rust,

'What's your name, baby?' she asked in a saccharine tone, a slight tilt to her head.

'Drop the act.'

'I don't have a fucking act. This is how I talk.'

Rust had hummed at that,

'Crash.'

'Crash, huh?'

'Yeah. Crash,' Rust had replied, fixing her with a cold stare. Cassandra had nodded, slightly intimated,

'Ok, Crash.'

A schoolgirl crush had morphed into a worrying codependency that had left her strewn on his mattress, in a semi-catatonic state. Worst part is: Cassandra cannot bring herself to hate him. The sickest part of her is even hoping that he kind of finds her attractive like this: at her rawest, most ugly state. She doesn't know how much longer she can keep the jig up; this near constant state of self surveillance is weighing on her heavily and this lacquer of practiced indifference is eroding. Fast. Even now, as Crash places a glass of water, a carton of Marlboro Golds and a bag of those plasticky powdered donuts by the mattress, she can feel her resolve faltering; trying to ignore the small disappointment that he cares so little to concede her her cigarettes. The grit in her wants to right-hook him hard and run away from this place, but she can't and she won't. She doesn't have anywhere left to run and the humiliation of having to ask to crash with one of her fancy college friends gnaws at her. She notices him staring at her, crouched by the mattress. Burying her head in the pillow, she mumbles,

'Stop it. Please stop it cause, I swear to god, that I'll cry if you don't.'

'Cry, then,' Rust mutters, 'Ain't no shame in it.'

'Yes, there is. A lot. Crash, I'm-I'm a whore,' Cassandra chokes out in a sob.

'Hey-Hey, you never fuckin' say that ever again. You hear?' Rust says, voice raising slightly as he clasps her jaw with his hand, 'What happened last night was me, all me. You were high out of your fuckin' mind and, even if you weren't, you couldn't had said no if you wanted to.'

'But I liked it.'

Rust ignores the heat that pools in his gut at those words,

'That don't make no fuckin' difference.'

Cassandra brings her hands to her face, trying to conceal her tear streaked cheeks. A futile endeavour, given the heaves of her sobs,

'It ain't even that. I've been a stripper since I was eighteen. Eighteen, Crash. What the actual fuck is wrong with me?!'

'You were a desperate, little girl with a daddy who beat her and no other choice in this cesspit of a fuckin' world other than to strip for men like me.'

'Not for men like yo-'

'Yes, Cassandra. For men like me. Stop making fuckin' excuses, you're smarter than that,' Rust borderline snarls, her chin still grasped in his hand as he shakes it slightly, emphasising his words.

Cassandra stares at him for a moment before she gives Rust the type of embrace that she hasn't given since she ran up to the police officer who pulled up, just as her dad burst out of the house with the jagged end of a bottle of malt liquor in hand. She buries her nose between the seam of his leather jacket and his faded t-shirt, inhaling deeply: sweat, Camels, beer, faint scent of deodorant. She moves her head up to thank him in the only way she knows how to and starts to kiss his neck. Rust gently grasps her shoulders to pull her away,

'Not now, baby. Tomorrow but not today.'

'I can-'

'You ain't in the right state of mind. I can see it. You ain't my Cass, right now. You're that scared little girl tryin' to reconcile the fact that her daddy has hit her for the first time and that it ain't gonna be the last.'

Cassandra flinches at that,

'Why the fuck would you bring that up?'

'To remind you that you should be scared.'

'Of you?'

'Of any man.'

Cassandra eyes him narrowly as he stands up,

'You heading out?'

'I'll be back, tonight.'

'Can you hand me a book?'

'Which one?'

'Something relatively chill.'

Rust goes to his stack against the wall, runs his hand down and stops at a book before lifting up the ones above it and slotting it out. He hands it to her,

'First bit of philosophy I ever read. I think most of what he preaches is placid bullshit but it ain't too intense a read.'

Cassandra takes The Stranger from Rust's hand and briefly flicks through the pages before landing at the first one. She squints to read some pen scrawl,

Houston, 1987,

For all those sleepless nights and to kickstart those philosophy courses that you've been mentioning,

From Claire to Rust

Cassandra's head snaps up, brow furrowing. She recognises one name, not the other. Her voice is gelid as she ask,

'Who the hell is Rust?'

[nerves-nebula]

im nottt a system actually i made my coping mechanism into a religion instead which means it doesn't count anymore. so what if i need to imagine "the persistent one" entering my body and sitting up in order to get me out of bed. doesnt count cuz i gave her a name and a mythology and shes part of my personal religious practice now

ok but fr tho:

i think the doeshima arent really part of whatever potential plurality i have going on, cuz they're very new and fictional in a way none of the other "me"s are.

but i do think that they are kind of evidence of how i cope with things, which points to my tendency to make up a 'me' who can do (or usually not "do" but "survive") something i cant when under stress. i feel i cant survive it, so i think of some fictional me who can, and just embody them.

i think i should probably just admit that while i dont think i have like a full blown identity disorder with lost time and all that, i definitely have some weird identity splitting/fracturing stuff going in terms of like. PTSD shit. ive known that for a while i guess. i've almost always felt like I am not the original me, I'm the one who was crafted/called upon/summoned because the former me couldn't survive. and that kid is still in here and i kind of hate them for making me go through all of this. but i know it's only fair, because they couldn't survive the world, and despite how much it doesn't feel like i can, I CAN survive. and I have.

i used to tell my friend that it felt like i had to cut off a part of myself to live. kill that pathetic child who was desperate to be coddled and protected. and i did, but i also didnt, because i was MADE to protect that kid. when i went to high school i was fucking feral, i hissed and bit and growled because i was a fucking animal meant to protect someone. and when i wasnt so feral anymore the kid came back like a goddamn ghost. you know it never used to speak? it only started talking and showing personality within the past year or so. it only ever used to stare at me silently.

I'm the one who isn't allowed to kill itself. My one main thing is that I'm not allowed to die, it's just not on the table anymore. I just have to keep going, and maybe it'll be worth it. and when I need a break I can swap out with these sort of half-personalities, who aren't as defined as me, but who get the job done when I've reached my limits.

it feels weird to call it plurality tho cuz thats so definitive. it feels like something that might not apply to me at all. but its also a bit comforting. and i've always been drawn to it (and to body sharing and hive minds and all that stuff since i was like 11) and like. idk. i probably wont call myself plural a lot but. like. i know what we are. and i dont dislike it.

[manicpixiefelix]

okay so its definitely going to come up later in the story, but im a little bit feral when i think about how Elspeth interacts with the reader because i truly believe reader is the closest thing she has to a perfect child. like obviously she loves felix and venetia the most, but considering what she says in the film, i think childbirth and it's recovery would have been a truly traumatic experience for her. she emotionally and physically distanced herself from her own children because of how visceral and "ugly" parts of their shared history are. she set a precedent for distance from the time they were born. farleigh was also practically raised with them but he has a whole different lot of baggage with him that precludes him from being truly pure of the ugly, pettiness of it all.

therefore reader, with rich, affluent parents who have no qualms but also no financial incentive for their child to join elspeth's, who elspeth herself didn't have to birth, and who therefore does not bring out any (even faint) feelings of guilt as she never neglected them in their most formative years, is the one psuedo-child she feels comfortable enough to physically dote on, even if she's emotionally distant out of a sense of obligation to her own children, if that makes sense.

anyways im rambling and all this to say i made myself so sad about that oneshot i was writing about what if the original film's plot played out with reader there.

[starsofang]

You and your cliffhangers. I cant. I feel like it’s an adrenaline rush for you to just hate us and see us scream over them. This is why hatred it developing angie😒😒😒😁

OKAY, FIRST HELLO. I know i’ve said it like three times now, but I’m glad you’re safe from the storm. Florida is getting one after the other so just incase another comes, stay safe😭 You putting out a chapter as soon as you got back was completely unexpected and I blame my phone for not getting me a notification.

No Ghost this chapter :( I feel like if he knew what Dove was seeing he’d be beyond angry. At himself, at Graves. I can even see him being a bit annoyed at the others. Maybe for bringing her onto the ship? I dont know😭 My notes doc is getting longer and longer as the days pass on.

Gaz!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY BABY😭🙏😭🙏 I feel so bad and I’m blaming you for it. HOW DARE YOY LEAVE HIM HANGING. IM LITERALLY NEVER FORGIVING YOU. He just wants to know what the fuck is happening between them and dove is just: :/ and she’s beyond confused about everything. Unreliable narrator #1

I still, of course, love your characterization of Soap. I think I’ve said it before, probably the first few chapters. He’s beyondddd smart if a little dense. “I’m glad Ghost has some like you.” and his face is just like: 😄🤨😄 So. Smart might be too nice of a word.

And of course, how could I forget John fucking Price. It’s the daddy issues probably but he’s just so jejehsoskdiosbeid. “What the fuck is she doing.” Imagining him growling that out in concern and anger is doing things to me. But I have to agree with the other ask! I dont know who said it but I loveeeeeeeeeee your dialogue. It can be really hard to convey emotions through writing but somehow you’re able to do it.

Also, John saying he’d prefer if she stayed with him… I see you. He can’t hide from me.

Other ask had the dresses right. Like almost exactly how I pictured it but this one is also right. I think it’s be a bit more grey to be honest, and the sleeves might be longer. But it’s like a classy but modest dress.

I feel like they’d go feral. They ARE pirates to be fair, and pirates definitely aren’t known to not be brutes. Though, they might have a bit more decorum. Barely. But still..

ANY WAYS this was a very long ask and to keep myself from annoying you and being demoted from your favorite reader (don’t you dare tell me i’m wrong) i’m going to end this here :) As always, I love you and you’re writing. MWAH 😙

u don’t hate me, i know you’d miss me if i was still gone from the hurricane 🥱

ghost will be in it next, it was hard to fit him in bc hes going thru it rn 😔 now that graves bitch ass is back ghost will definitely be more present and oooo i can’t wait to see it

im #1 gaz lover but making him suffer a little bit rn is giving me adrenaline and i cant stop doing it, its lowkey like a drug and im getting my fix. he wants to kiss us sooooo bad haha smash.

soap can do no wrong i fear, he’s kind of like my dog in this fic or like a pet bc hes just kind of there being silly while also having his moments of redemption and idk i just love him so much i cant help it. also add me imagining him in wet clothes and a wet mullet in that one scene near the end and I was suddenly the dog

john can also do no wrong idc how many haters he has, i will die on that hill. how can u see his banter and his way of teasing and not think he’s fine. r u serious. ALSO THE GROWL MY GOOOOD I WAS TWEAKING WHEN I WROTE IT CUZ ITS ALL I COULD SEE IN MY HEAD AND I GENUINELY STARTING TO TWITCH

that dress is a yes 😫 i’m not up in here imagining glamor, hello this is 1800s pirates and lowkey we’re a lil dirty and stinky, IN MY MIND I WANT MODEST BORING DRESSES BC READER IS NOT A MODEL she’s literally a prisoner (ex ig) on a ship and things get nasty, plus the practicality??? on a ship??? I AGREE but like i said im a black dress girly thru and thru because thats all i wear

I LOVE YOU MWAH

[shadysubject06]

Im feral for your chica design btw. She's adorable

Gosh, thank you!!! Fun fact, I started drawing her with a bigger body type because it was an easy way to get myself to practice drawing those types of bodies! Now I can't imagine drawing her differently cuz that's just how she looks in my head now. I'm really glad that other people love her look as much as I do!

[subbypuppyboi-05]

So.

I really really really love my boyfriend.

He's amazing.

But I've got issues.

Emotions are scary and I feel like im going to throw up.

I get so nervous and and emotional abt how I feel towards him.

He's amazing and argh my eyes hurt from crying.

Like- I love him too much.

I'd do anything for him but I also freeze up and practically shut down unable to do anything when I speak with him.

My stomach feels all warm and fluttery when I talk to him.

He's so sweet.

And he's such a jerk in the way that makes me melt cus I've got issues and I love that.

I'm so obsessed with him.

Like overwhelmingly obsessed. Yk?

Somedays I just feel this overwhelming need to be with him, to hold him, to be filled with him in ways that just aren't physically possible.

Like- I'd genuinely cannibalise him to be closer to him, to have part of him in me in the most intimate way I can imagine.

I need him in such a ferally intimate way.

I'd kill for him and I'd keep myself alive for him and yet I'd gladly take his life to keep him for myself♡

Not in the "I'm so quirky and yandere uwu" kinda way.

Like I genuinely spiral and question myself and my sanity over this.

But if I got the permission to take a slice of him and actually eat it I gladly would without hesitation.

Like I'd worry about hurting him and want him safe and not in pain but... at the same time?

I really want to hear him whimper for me as I hurt him?

Like- in a loving way.

You know?

I'd never hurt him without his permission unless it was accidental ofc.

I'd absolutely despise myself if I ever genuinely hurt him.

I want to keep him forever.

I wouldn't keep him against his will.. atleast I don't think I would for now.

But honestly- if I was just slightly more unstable I probably wouldn't care if he wants to be with me or not as long as i have him.

He's my everything.

I know it's not healthy to base your entire life around one person.

I've made that mistake before... but I cant help it.

He's too perfect.

I love him so incredibly much and it scares me.

I'm both scared my feelings will get hurt and scared I'll end up hurting him.

But im so happy I have him in my life♡

Idk.

I'm emotional and running on zero sleep and a lot of caffeine so im rambling.

I rly love my bf lolz

[stars4andru]

Fashion things that had a chokehold on me recently 🐆🎱🍒

1.

Chunky unpolished jewellery, arm bracets, jewellery and watches over sleeves (Giani Agnelli is my inspo 🤍)

2.

SCARFS STYLED THE GUCCI WAY. oh my god don’t even get me started. I remember seeing this in magazines back in 2017 and loving it so much. I think it’s one of the greatest statement pieces we’ve ever had as a society. I think a colorful scarf can be used as a perfect juxtaposition if you wanna combine something more modern, like streetstyle, with a more italian old money vibe without creating an overwhelming look. It’s giving rustic!!

3.

These fitted cardigans like the ones from miu miu speak to me like no other. Im a very silhouette oriented person and these just satisfy my eyes. They are so soft and delicate in such a simplistic way and so perfectly fitted to the body, i love them. Also, they are ideal for any occasion since it’s really easy to switch the look with a little styling. I think they add a very classy and polished touch to an outfit.

4.

These mesh graphic tight shirt have been living rent free in my head. It’s like you’re covering yourself in a painted canvas. There is some sort of coolness to them that no other item can compensate for, simply unmatched.

5.

Vintage shoes period, I have got myself three pairs of the adidas boxing boots and I can’t wait to wear them. I’m genuinely so obsessed with adidas as a brand it’s not funny. They could put the three silly lines on anything (bonus points if it’s something classy) and i’d call it absolute cinema but that’s just me I guess 😭. I have a confession to make when i saw the isabel maranta for the first time i didn’t find them particularly interesting but now I think they are peak shoe-wear i need a pair, a bunch actually.

6.

These long sleeves got nothing on me, give me a 1000000 right now. Whenever i see a long sleeve with a large neckline or a tight one with the sleeves going over the hands I go feral. I think there is some sort of effortless vibe to these that nothing else in my closet can compensate for. It might be the slouchy silhouette or the waist show off but i can never tell.

7.

Jackets that embody the 90’-00’ pipeline. I love me a jacket with any sort of hardware or pockets. I like my coats with personality 🤍

7.

Moving on to bags. Not going to lie I feel like my taste in bags is the same as in jackets. If they turned my jackets into bags i’d wear them. City bags with any form of hardware or straps on them are so tea. I love when bags are actually practical so I can carry around all the stuff that I rarely use.

8.

I don’t know what’s about having a backpack strapped to your chest that’s attracting me like crazy but it definitely works. These backpacks spoke greater pick-up lines to me than any man ever.

10.

The golden ratio/fibonacci sequence is the right way to wear your stuff (and no the golden ration and rule of the thirds are not synonymous even if they are used as such on social media). Whatever TikTok fashion influencer brainwashed you into thinking that the rule of the thirds looks good should be put in an enclosure so they have time to think because they clearly aren’t. The rule of the thirds makes most people look as id their lega run up to their neck and have no torso. So the baggy high waisted jeans with the boxy cropped t-shirt uniform looks stupid. Don’t get me wrong it can be done right in many cases but It requires a trained eye for fashion that the masses unfortunately do not possess 💔🥀. I say you listen to me and don’t fall for the propaganda. On the other hand, the golden ratio aims ro set the waistline a TINY bit lower (than what the rule of thirds proposes) making an incredible difference in the silhouette. It makes your proportions look more balanced and gives a better silhouette hence the outfit will look more fashionable.

Whatever fashion diva ended up reading this post I hope you enjoyed my post . 🦢

This post has been more masculine oriented but I think i’ll cover more in a possible future post.

xoxo

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

i banned myself from posting on tumblr (ik i haven't been entirely successful but an effort was made) until i submit my thesis so here's the shit i wanted to say in my absence (03/29/25 - 04/15/25)

Part 1, Part 2

4/7/25

accidentally bought waterproof mascara which i hate but it does work. sobbed for an hour and it did not budge at all wtf

4/11/25

the way im thinking about kissing someone for science. been thinking about andreil too much. i dont even like kissing, this would not help me write them. at least not emotionally - nothing could lmfao i don't have those feelings so i stay silly and guess and ask my allo friends. but it's been yearssss since i kissed someone. less since someone kissed me but i dont think drunk kisses in bars are going to help me with literally anything

i need someone who will have no feelings for me whatsoever and that will not expect sex to kiss me so that i can figure out blocking for scenes in my fanfiction. wAIT we don't even need to actually kiss i just need someone who is comfortable with gratuitous physical contact/affection and doesn't want to fuck me

instead of working on my thesis (due in 4 days) am thinking about andreil and neil's oblivious ass and the reason we don't have an andrew pov is because it's just him being like i have to kill that idiot every time neil doesn't realize he's being flirted with

andreil + kevin friendship soooo funny to me never die feral angry short bitches as scary dog privilege for anxious asshat who is an entire foot taller than them

genuinely if you think andrew+neil+kevin are not friends i don't know how to talk to you. arguing with me will accomplish nothing btw ALSO jeaneil bestfriendisms. will live and die on that hill. pry it out of my cold dead hands

i love jean moreau. this is known. i could not give a solitary fuck who he dates so long as they're nice to him. so like. jeremy is fine. i love him by proxy bc he's @eleanorpowers 's baby and i love her. this is just how it goes. the only ship i have ever actually felt emotionally invested in is andreil

me, completely exhausted and accomplishing nothing for hours: bitch you have four days. you're in so much debt and you have four more days. finish your fucking thesis. my good bitch. please for the love of fuck

4/12/25

i am actively in this moment filming a timelapse in the hope that it will make me work on my thesis. its working a little. but then also here i am on this fucking hellsite

trying to LOCK IN but wrote 900 words of my aftg fanfic instead fml

can't imagine hating on kevin as a character. as a person however. oh sweetheart we would be having words

i've said something to this effect before, but i think it really is the killer combination of people pleasing + the insane levels of apathy i feel about my life on a near daily basis that, were i a Fox, would have me going like damn we're doing knives today : / and just sitting there. like unless andrew were actively killing me, which he would have no reason to do bc why would i be in his stabby business, i'd just be like damn maybe don't commit a crime in front of me i've talked to enough cops in my life. Everyone there cares about everything too much. In my head it's like okay i have scholarship to do this one thing. and i have to maintain grades to maintain scholarship. so i go to practice and class and then i go to bed. how do they have time for all this drama. like i remember once when i was using public transit bc who drives anymore anyways and because i walk or take public transit everywhere and someone started talking about stabbing people and i was like damn this is my stop (it wasn't) but like that was the whole interaction. i dont have a response for these people, can't imagine involving myself in their business

4/13/25

wheres that fuckin post thats like will you be a man and watch ponyo with me will you be a fucking man and watch ponyo i need to flood people's dash with it

also. and another thing. thesis kicking my ass. two more days fuckkkkk im writing too much fuck my miserable tamagotchi life and my bitchass tummyache rah

have yet to find a position i can sit in for more than mayyyyybe 20 minutes before Pain or Numb. somehow both tbh. it feels like my legs disconnected at the knee. have you ever been typing and your hands just stop being yours. what the fuck

laptop fan sounds like its fighting for its life

fuck me its cold as hell

the like three? specific vertebrae that crunch and pop horribly all the time are actually a bit concerning like bbg i dont think they're supposed to be like that

4/14/25

locked in too hard and now am over 1000 words over the maximum word limit of my thesis and am still going hahaha oh no

[mythica0]

Come-down

🎂:The loud house

🍫: all siblings(implied/mentioned)

🧁:Luanne

Summary: Luanne is feeling a little blue and insecure, and her trusty family help her smile again.

A/N: (btw title is pronounced like comedy but with down.)inspired by “no laughing matter”. Hurt/comfort because I EAAATTT IT. I LOVE hurt/comfort and cheer up tkls!! Also she’s my fav character so I go FERAL for angst especially when it ends well. (Also becuase she’s my favorite a lot of these are gonna include her as ler or lee because again, I LOVE HER)

Come-down

“Good morning, Luna” Luanne spoke. It was early in the morning, around 8:00. Luanne had been up for a while, just sitting in her bed, and now Luna was finally awake.

“Huh? Oh, morning sis! How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine.” Luanne lied, looking at her sister. Luna stretched for a moment before heading out towards the kitchen for breakfast, then looked back.

“You comin’?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay! See you then!”

At first, Luna didn’t see anything wrong, but then she stalled for a moment. ‘Wait a second- no breakfast pun? That’s so odd..’

—————

“Hello Luanne.”

“Hi Lucy! What’s up?”

“I was hoping you could help me. I wish to find a word with double meaning, and I know you are excellent at that, considering how much you love puns.”

“Hmm… what’s the context?”

“I need something that means to wait in darkness, but I was hoping for a poetic connotation of something else. Right now I have ‘Like an untouched dinner, stuck in the fridge I’m left to…’

“You could use ‘stew’ as in to stew in darkness. But that’s the best I got right now, sorry.”

‘Really? Only one?’ Lucy thought, curiously.

“Thank you, it works perfectly.”

“No problem, Lucy!” Luanne gave a (fake) smile before moving on.

Later that day, the siblings met in Lori and Lenny’s room for a meeting. Everyone was there- except for Luanne.

“We know why we’re here right? something is up with Luanne.” Lincoln announced.

Lisa nodded. “Correct. She has made exactly zero puns or practical jokes all day. This is extremely statistically unlikely.”

“I’d say. I asked her for help with a pun and she gave me one. Not like, fifteen like I was expecting.”

Luna made a noise of agreement. “Yeah man! When I asked her if she was joining me for breakfast this morning, she didn’t even make a breakfast pun! Something is definitely up. We need to talk to her.”

Lisa once again agreed. “Absolutely. The last time this happened she almost gave up comedy entirely. We need to get our Luanne back.”

————

“Luanne, may I speak with you?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure Lisa, need a test subject?”

“Not exactly. Let me just cut to the chase- what is bothering you?”

Luanne smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What do you mean? Nothings bothering me! What gave you that idea?”

“You haven’t made a single joke all day. This is not like you, and the only other time this has ever happened, you were extremely upset.”

The fake smile dropped. “Okay, yeah, I admit it. Im just feeling a little blue today.”

“Yes, but why?”

Luanne sighed. “I had a bad dream last night. I was on stage, but the crowd kept booing, and throwing tomatoes at me. And then all of you guys came out of the crowd, whispering to me that I was worthless, that I was never going to be funny and that my dreams were not achievable. So now I’m felling a bit… insecure.. about my jokes.”

Out in the hall, the whole family breathed in, and some of them got misty eyed. Lucy whispered. “What did we implant in her head? Sigh, poor Luanne never deserved that.”

Lisa exhaled sympathetically. “Ahh, a nightmare. Nightmares are your brains way of expressing insecurities and fears. But, you must be aware that dreams cannot hurt you. It wasn’t real, Luanne.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m having a hard time feeling like myself…”

“Don’t worry, we have a way to help with that.”

“Really?- Wait.. we?”

Everyone in the hall piled into her room.

“Yup. Everyone came together because we were worried about you.”

Luanne teared up a bit. “Aww, really? I love you guys.. but… what are you gonna do?”

“Just lay back and you’ll find out!” Lincoln smiled at her.

Luanne complied and laid back on her bed. “Okaaaaahahahay! Hehehey!”

Lisa began to scribble Luanne’s sides.

“We think it might be helpful to bring some laughter to you, through one of your favorite activities- tickling!”

“Ihihi dohoho lihihike tihihihicklihihing yohohou guhuhuys! Eheehaha!”

All of them started gently tickling Luanne, not all at once, but taking turns.

“We know. And sometimes you use it to help us laugh or cheer up after a long day..” Lincoln began

“And we thought that maybe we should do the same.” Lucy finished.

“Ahahahaww yohohou guhuhuys! I lohohove yohohou soho muhuhuch!”

“We love you too!” The whole family chorused in reply.

“Hmm… I have an idea!” Lynn exclaimed, turning to her siblings, “what if we tell Luanne jokes! Might help her get back into the flow of things!”

There was a mutter of agreement and ‘good idea’ s, and then- the lineup of dad jokes began.

“Hey Luanne, did you hear about the time that a medieval knight asked me to clean his armor?”

“Noho!”

“It was great! I’ve always wanted a night in, shining armor.”

“Pfftahahaha! Thahat wahahas greheheat!”

“What about this one.. did you hear about the graveyard that opened up on the other side of town?”

“Noho, whyhyhy?”

“People are just dying to get in.”

“Hahaha, thahahats vehehery youhohou, luhuhucy.”

“I know.”

“Knock knock!”

“Whohos thehere!”

“Boo!”

“Bohohoo whohoho?”

“Don’t cry! It’s just a joke!”

“I had a joke about an airplane, but It’d just go over your head”

“Hehehahahaha! Ihi knohohow thahat ohohone! Ihi ahahlso hahave aha johohoke abohohout pahahper, buhut ihits teheheahahrahable! Hahaha!”

“There’s our jokester!”

They stopped and let Luanne breathe for a moment.

“You feeling better?”

“Yeah! Guess this comed-Ian was feeling a little come-down! Haha, get it?

And laughter filled the room once more

———THE END————————————————

[cyberpawspace-blog]

My Commissions Are Open!

Looking for a headshot of your character? i can offer that.

I will be taking 5 commissons at a time as to not over stress myself with my first time doing commissions! Im currently in college and saving up some money so any money from commissons help and it gives me more practice as well as just keeping me drawing to prevent any long hiatus i tend to do. I draw mostly dungeons and dragons related races mositly tieflings! I hope to see and be able to draw peoples unique characters.

I take payment through Zelle and Venmo. To Order Dm me on my Discord or comment here for further communication Discrod @ : elgatitolindo

WILL DO:

A good chunk of D&D races

Scarring

Humanoids

WON'T DO:

Feral Oc

Heavy Armor

Anthros

COMMISSION PRICE: $15 USD

Looking for a headshot/bust of your character? Well im offering just that. My $15 USD price includes full shading and coloring and if you would like i can send you updates on the drawing to help have your input along the way! I wish to make this drawing to your liking and im iwlling ot listen to any feedback or twek changes throughout the work in progress. This headshot/bust will be similar to the example images. I will not draw clothing as seen in the example images but any accesories like jewelry will be drawn.