(We’re exploring the Temple of Eternal Darkness, which, shockingly, is not a great place. We’re also being trailed by some much higher level Orcs with a grudge. After dispatching a bunch of zombies, we’re exploring a room, looking for any good loot, when we hear our pursuers following us, coming door to door.)

DM: the doorknob of the room you’re in begins to rattle.

Sorcerer: (stage whisper) everyone be zombies!! (Louder) grrrrr… raaaaaawr…. braaaaains

(The sorcerer begins gesturing for everyone to join in. Soon after, the entire party is moaning loudly, and the DM is almost in tears.)

DM: nothing but zombies in here, Steve!

Bittersweet and Strange (Negan X Female)

Summary: When her father doesn’t come back from his scavenging run, she goes looking for him and meets a horrible beast: Negan.

Characters: Negan x Female

Word Count: 3,309

Warnings: Angst, swearing, eventual smut, eventual fluff 

Author’s Note: This is for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash‘s 3rd writing challenge, and my prompt was Beauty and the Beast. It’s late. I’m sorry. I’m trash. 

I plan on writing at least 3 parts. I officially have the entire fic planned out, so it’ll be easier to get the next parts completed.

I’m a Disney dork, so similar to my fic series Fruit of the Dead and how it mirrored the greek myth, this fic mirrors the movie. I didn’t have anyone beta this, so sorry for errors.

Please let me know what you thought! I love feedback!

Gif credit

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Officer Benny and Characterisation in Stealth

There’s a very special NPC in Thief II: The Metal Age. In the dimly-lit games room of the Truart Estate, surrounded by the discarded playing cards and abandoned dartboards of the recent party held by the Sheriff and his debaucherous toff friends, a lone drunken City Watch officer disconnectedly rambles to the barmaid on duty. His name is Officer Benny, and I love him.

“I can’t believe that s-some (hic) taffer went and spilled mead all over that rug!” he yells as you approach unseen, his model swaying unsteadily in a dramatic display of intoxication. The barmaid, clearly worn out by a harrowing work shift, sighs wearily.

“Benny… you spilled the mead on the rug,” she explains patiently. “Anyway, someone is on the way to clean it up already.”

“But you don’t understaaand!” Benny wails, now clearly, inexplicably on the verge of tears. “These (hic) taffers have no respect for such… b-beautiful things!

Around this point, it’s likely that you’ll start to tune out and skulk around in the gloom, looking for the telltale glint of loot to funnel into your pockets. Stacks of coins and rings litter the gaming tables, tempting you to sneak a hand under the hanging lamps. One of Karras’s Children—a hunchbacked steam-powered automaton with a head like a brass football —clanks around the room, mindlessly praising its creator to the heavens. It’s not much of a threat, but it’s certainly an annoying little contraption. One water arrow to the boiler grate usually does the trick.

“Benny, I think you’ve had too much to drink. Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?”

“Hah. So what if I am, huh?” he says, sounding more than a little defensive. “Anyways, I work mm-better when I’m drunk. It makes me fearless! If I see a bad guy, I’ll just point my sword at him, and saaaaaay… HEY, BAD GUY!”

You freeze, momentarily worried you’ve been spotted trying to snaffle the discarded goblet from beside the fireplace. Benny continues with his charade, utterly oblivious.

“You’re not s’posed to be here! G-go home or I’ll stick you with my sword ‘til you go ‘Ouch, I’m dead!’ Ah-hah-hah-hurgh!” He makes an indescribable sniffing, gurgling, chuckling noise, and momentarily falls silent. “See? Ain’t no one gonna be messin’ with ol’ Benny.”

“Whatever, Benny. I think you should sleep it off. No more mead for you.”

In the grand scheme of things, it’s a fairly trivial exchange: it doesn’t tie into some larger arc, it doesn’t impart any useful information about objectives or security system vulnerabilities, and neither Officer Benny nor the barmaid will ever be seen again. Benny’s emotional ping-ponging is unconvincing at best, and while his delivery certainly isn’t lacking in vigour, the only character in the room with exceptional voice acting is Garrett, the Master Thief; the one surreptitiously pocketing everyone’s gambling winnings during this exchange. And yet, Benny’s rambling accomplishes something very special. It’s the perfect, emblematic example of a quality present throughout the Thief games; one that shapes how we approach them, and in turn, the experiences they provide.

Thief II gives you a sword. Not a discreet little knife, fit for a slippery cutthroat, but a proper blade; the kind for lopping off soldiers’ limbs on a muddy, arrow-strewn embankment. It’s a silent acknowledgement that you may have to kill men, not in a surprise scuffle where you jump them from behind the bins, but in a full-on fight with multiple assailants. It’s the kind of thing you defend yourself with when things are rapidly going downhill and there’s nowhere to run; a tool for when the halls are filled with the sounds of alarm bells and clattering jackboots. In the right hands it can be quite effective, and it’s entirely possible to hack n’ slash your way through a legion of aggravated soldiers, provided they’re courteous enough to approach you in a narrow corridor or something.

Something doesn’t add up here, does it? Stealth needs reasons for you to stealth, so to speak. There have to be incentives to keep you in hiding, and those incentives usually start with some sort of punishment for being caught. You’re supposed to be outmatched and outgunned, or at the very least, have some higher-level motive for not wanting to be seen. If Garrett can accomplish his goals by going where he pleases and stabbing everyone who looks at him the wrong way, what’s stopping him, really?

Well, it’s kind of a dick thing to do, of course, but gamers have never been above murdering NPCs for slightly inconveniencing them. It’s also a flat-out fail state on many missions if you attempt them on a higher difficulty setting, but by the time you get around to them you’ve almost certainly put the idea out of your head long ago in any case. Dishonored, Thief’s darling modern protégé, would invisibly bump up the Chaos meter—a hidden metric that determines whether Corvo’s been naughty or nice—but Thief itself has no such system, and other than occasionally dropping remarks along the lines of “remember, murdering people is for poser scrublords”, does little to impress upon you the moral wrongness of your actions. A corpse is functionally identical to an unconscious body—indeed, were it not for a single line of HUD text, they’d be impossible to differentiate at all—and sure, people might be a bit more screamy if you clobber them over the head with a blade rather than a blackjack, but what does that matter if you’ve already established you’re not interested in being quiet?

No, Thief II chooses instead to work with characterisation. Who, of the people you encounter throughout its missions, are your enemies? Not the tired watchmen trudging through the halls on a cold evening; not the harmless peasants, trying to prosper in an industrial revolution even as it crushes them between its wheels; not even the Mechanist underlings, suckered into a fad cult and set to work fulfilling Karras’s insane agenda. Your foes are far away, clinking glasses in rooms full of light and music, and most of them will never meet you face-to-face. What direct quarrel do you have with the guards who patrol the game’s moody locales, besides the fact that they’re between you and your goal?

Right. They’re not your enemies, so Thief doesn’t characterise them as enemies. Engendering sympathy to discourage murdering NPCs is hardly a novel concept, but Thief’s approach stands out, primarily because it’s less about pre-emptive guilting and more about subtle humanisation. While you creep around behind their backs, guards will hum, whistle, recite passages, moan about the cold, mumble to themselves, even wonder aloud when they’re getting dinner. You’ll find guards cracking jokes, trash-talking each other’s employers, discussing financial management, complaining about the weather, worrying about being replaced by the new-fangled mechanical eyes, and a thousand other ordinary things totally unrelated to the here-and-now of their work shift. They’re not goose-stepping around shouting “boy, I sure hope nobody stabs me in the back while I’m pacing back and forth, how would my wife and three children ever survive on the streets without a loving father like me?”; they’re just… well, bored, usually. Wouldn’t it be terrible to have to cut down a person like that, just because they made the mistake of investigating some footsteps a little too closely? Thief makes you want to stay unseen, not for your own sake, but for the sake of those who might see you.

And Officer Benny? He’s the epitome of this humanisation. Not only is he drunk, chatty, skiving off work and chewing the scenery with an unprecedented level of unhinged abandon, but through his babbling, he offers an insight into his attitude. There’s no black, tarry pit of hatred boiling away somewhere in him, fuelled by some personal vendetta, waiting to bubble over in fury at the sight of a wayward miscreant; he’s just doing what he’s supposed to. Benny sees himself as the cop in the proverbial cops and robbers: a figure of authority in a simplistic world, out to stop the scoundrels and ruffians in a game where everyone mutually agrees on the rules. His inebriated cry of “HEY, BAD GUY! You’re not s’posed to be here!” is born of this position, announcing what he sees as incontestable truths, spoken more out of convention than anything else. And what’s his ultimatum? Go home, or get stabbed. Go home. Even faced with someone absolutely, undeniably in the wrong, in his morally black-and-white world, his first thought is of telling them to scarper; to leave peacefully, without accountability or interrogation. He’s not smart, or nuanced, or even—if you catch his attention—particularly true to his word, but Officer Benny’s attitude is charming in its simplistic naivety, devoid of real malice or antagonistic ideals. For that, I could no more swing my sword at him than kick a puppy, and that’s why he holds Thief II’s formula together—along with countless other watchmen, guards and Mechanists.

Thanks, Benny. I hope your hangover wasn’t too rough.

funkyracoon  asked:

Could you possible do Spacedogs please :) "Can I borrow your sweater. It smells like you."

Definitely <3 Sorry to make you wait! Here it is.

Adam lay in bed, sheets pooled around his hips while Nigel searched the floor for yesterday’s clothes.

They’d taken them off in such haste that the room looked like it had been looted. A sock hung from the closet door knob. Adam tried to remember how it got there, but all he could recall was Nigel’s mouth on every inch of his skin.

“How long will you be gone?” Adam asked.

Nigel buttoned his jeans and then patted the back pocket, checking that his cigarettes were still there. “Shouldn’t be more than a couple hours, darling. If you go back to sleep I’ll be back before you get up.”

As Nigel bent to retrieve a shirt from the floor, Adam caught him by his necklace. With a little tug to the chain he pulled him in for a proper kiss.

Nigel grinned. “Trying to lure me back into bed, gorgeous?”

“It is working?”

“All too well. Care if I borrow your sweater?”

In Nigel’s hand was the old navy sweater Adam had been wearing the night before. Adam had worn and washed it so many times it had begun to go misshapen; waist too loose and arms uneven. Adam frowned.

“You can, but I don’t know why you would. I’m not sure it would fit you,” Adam said, “If you really want a clean shirt I have much nicer sweaters in my closet.”

“But those nice clean ones don’t smell like you. And this one does.”


He watched as Nigel pulled the sweater on. It fit just right around the middle, but the sleeves left several inches of bare wrist. Nigel pushed them up to his elbows.

“Alright. I’m gonna go take care of business, and grab a bag of clothes from my place and I’ll be back,” Nigel said as he pulled out a cigarette and tucked it between his lips. “And then I’ll stay the whole weekend if that’s what you want, gorgeous.”

“I’d like that very much, Nigel. Be safe.”

“Always am.”

With a wink and a wave, Nigel was gone.

Adam curled up, Nigel’s still warm pillow in his arms. He thought about Nigel moving through the city, wrapped in his clothes. Wrapped in his scent. Adam smiled, pressed his face into Nigel’s pillow, and inhaled deeply; the smell of Nigel causing his heart to flutter.

Aaaaand that’s all folks! Thanks for all the amazing prompts, and I’ll catch y’all in march.

My take on SnB:Vs Episode 14, another long trash post from yours truly. Damn I should make ‘My take’ a thing now! LONG. SUPER LONG since I’m ChariNina trash

WARNING: This post is very long and includes rants as well. Read at your own risk.

First I would like to finally say the words I’ve been meaning to shout to all yall, anti or not.


That was good, that was reeeeaaaaaal good. WHAT? STILL DON’T BELIVE ME YOU PIECE OF- beautiful human flesh THEN LEMME POINT OUT HOW AND BRUH THIS IS GONNA BE LONG.

First up, my harto. I was stabbed multiple times because of that new opening and no it’s not because I have a raging cold that I feel like something is stabbing my heart I legit felt that. Like bro look at this.

LOOK AT IT. (Apologies for the low-quality screenshots, I couldn’t help myself since I hadn’t downloaded it online and was streaming it so yeah)

You know it’s legit when they’re the first ones in the OP but wait there’s more! (You clearly know this is gonna be pure ChariNina with a little bit of something something but still mainly ChariNina)

Okay time out, let’s appreciate the Chari fan service since people were complaining that they were making Nina fan service now.

I certainly am not complaining though,

Okay back on track, things I like to point out during this episode (basically all the ChariNina in this episode) and starting with the OP.

Okay fine since I like this I’ll- OH WAIT OH MY GOB THAT’S LUCIFER. BABY!!! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU FOR 1 SEASON AND A HALF NOW OMG YOU STILL LOOKING FINE. Oh hey Azazel you’re looking okay too. You both look fine as hell though… quite literally huehuehuehue

Okay back to the OP, it was siiiiick. Some people said they didn’t like it compared to the 1st OP but this one was sick and intense like the first one, sure a little different, more on green less on red but it’s amazing for me. What I do want to point out are these.

Me while watching: GO NINA, RUN TO YO MAN!

Still me: *quiet*

Still me: *gasp*


Okay now to the episode, I’m sure most of you have seen it so I’m not gonna make story tell cause yall are here to see this trash of a post so you know how it goes, but still here; cute Nina coming home scene which is cute.

Yep, cute. Also, Nina is flexible af

Okay now were moving to the moment where all of us were either too focused and in it to fangirl or were fangirling because of everything that has been said.

Second up, OMG.

Me while watching this: Nina you better say yes.

SHE SAID YES OMG!!! I made it sound like she said yes to Chari proposing to her… that could be arranged though…

Me: *starts to fangirl*

Me: *Fangirls even more*





Me: *insert lenny face here* (This galaxy is beautiful btw, props to the art in BahaSoul this is legit beautiful)

Me: Hihihihihihihihi. Huehuehuehuehuehuehuehuehue. I am pointing out again to the people who thought Nina’s heart was broken after she found out Chari was the King in the previous eps please go and suck on this.


Me: *pauses*

Me: Naw Nina you don’t mean that girl… I mean you hated what he did as King, not as Chari!

Me: I know Nina… well I don’t know but what I would want is for you to get together.

Me: SEE NINA?! THANK YOU FOR GETTING MY POINT. YOU DON’T HATE HIM, YOU JUST DIDN’T LIKE WHAT HE DID! (Let’s appreciate the triple A writing here like this is some emotional sht right here)

Me answering for Nina and the fandom: YES.

I just want to point out how I said before that Nina wasn’t broken. Sure she felt hurt and this proves it now but she’s mostly confused and is in a state of wonder as to why he did all these things and how she should feel towards a person she loves but is doing all of these things to the other races. This is like Romeo and Juliet yknow. *end of serious*


Okay I just wanna point these out. The last images of Nina’s flashback to Chari was when Chari was smiling at her, and the last one was with his disguise as Chris. I feel as though this symbolizes that she didn’t fall in love with a king but in fact a person; a kind and great guy as she describes herself.

I mean look at this.





Ehem, anyway. I like what Jeanne is pointing out here.

(Jeanne really is literally the fandom in this right now)

Me: IT AINT A MAYBE JEANNE IT IS REAL! But seriously this is some good sht right here like dang, wow. This speaks to a whole other level, this can be applied in the real world.

Some of you maybe pointing out ‘but Jeanne doesn’t know who she likes and if she does she will definitely say no to this!’ My gob you antis never really shut up huh?

Do you really think Jeanne doesn’t have an idea of who this person may be when 1.) she saw how the king interacted with Nina back at the prison and 2.) she was literally there when Nina fought as a dragon to save her! She saw how Nina didn’t bite off Chari’s head when he came near her and it would be impossible for her not to see how she de-transformed into a human and he carefully caught her because she was fkng there and watching!

And if she really doesn’t know who this person Nina likes do you think she’ll hinder Nina from finding her happiness when the girl who was a complete stranger to her decided to be kind and help her? Nina could’ve left her but she didn’t and that’s because that’s who Nina is. Do you really think Jeanne would be selfish enough to try hinder Nina’s feeling for Charioce? Do you really think Jeanne would be the type of person who would tell Nina she can’t love him because he’s a bad guy?

Gob if you think so then you really don’t know who Jeanne D’Arc is and is just trying to make a way to break of Charioce and Nina.

Jeanne isn’t selfish enough to try and separate Nina from Charioce because of what he’s done. She might ask Nina if she’s sure with this and if Nina answers yes then she’ll support her, if Nina answers she doesn’t know then Jeanne will help her. Jeanne won’t stop Nina from loving who she wants and I want to make that perfectly clear not unless the creators suddenly decided to make Jeanne a dck which is highly not possible.

Okay moving on.

Here we have Nina contemplating on life rn. Don’t worry Nina baby we feel you.

You know something else I really liked this episode? Mama Dragon, I mean she’s not a dragon but Imma call her Mama Dragon. Mama Dragon is so nice and lovely and I feel bad because she lost her hubby, now I see where Nina gets her charms!

Also, thank you Mappa for giving us a legit mom and not some hot super model mother who looks the same age as her daughter. Very nice.

Mama Jeanne and Mama Dragon mom time. This is legit probs the only time Jeanne has ever cried her feelings out, leave it to a mom to comfort another mom.

Overall, I am very happy with how this episode turned out. We go an insight of Nina’s feelings and saw how she’s coping with the info she got. This gives a new depth to Nina since people just see her as an overly optimistic person but just because she’s optimistic doesn’t mean she doesn’t have trouble too. Now I’m happy most especially about badass granny dragon! Like look at her! She’s so cool!

Ah 2017 has been a good year for romance. Not for me though but ChariNina’s romance is enough to make me feel happy for love.

I was gonna add my ED thoughts in here too but that would be a liiiiitttttlle to much for one post (as 2k words isn’t already ‘too much’) so if you’re interested you can go ahead and see that too!

Well this ends another long a** post and yes, this is canon now, you just saw the proof.

I hope you enjoyed my thoughts, I aint here to cause arguments and those anti anti things are just forms of expressions so don’t take this too seriously and attack me, although I would like to hear your thoughts my intention is not to cause fights but to fangirl and give my honest opinions.

Feel free to reblog and comment and have a ChariNina filled life!

Forgotten Home

request: HI hello :) I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the girl is a young child when she first goes to never land and the lost boys get a long with her. Then she returns years later with the shadow and pans all shocked ect. I love your writing and if you can do this then thank you so much!!

author’s note: thank you so much for requesting! this is a little different from the original request because i’ve read stuff similar to this prompt before, so i hope you still like it! pan may seem a little out of character; i had a hard time writing his character when interacting with a child that he is supposed to be close to. i haven’t edited this, so i apologize for any mistakes xoxo

-8 years old-

“Y/N? Where are you, darling?” I hear my mother’s feet on the creaking staircase. “It’s time for bed.”

           I hold my breath as she knocks on my bedroom door. I cover my mouth with one sweaty hand to keep her from hearing me laugh.

           She doesn’t wait for me to answer her; she pushes the door open and steps into the pink room. “Y/N,” she calls. “Come out now, sweetheart.”

           I stay under my bed, staring at her slippers with anxiety. I try to scoot back further to avoid being seen, but my butt awkwardly hits the mattress above me. My eyes squeeze shut from both the shame and the aggravation of giving away my hiding place.

           My mother’s feet turn towards me and walk to the edge of my bed. “Y/N, love, please.”

           Sighing, I crawl out.

           My mother gives me a sad smile, warm palm cupping my dirty cheek. “What were you doing, Y/N?”

           “I was hiding,” I say quietly.

           “Why were you hiding from me?”

           I frown. “I wasn’t hiding from you.”

           She returns my look, though she appears more confused. “Then who were you hiding from?”

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I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand, Peaches... Chapter 16

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she’s certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

Chapter 16

Originally posted by grungedaddykinks

The journey had been an uneventful one…and with the combination of rain hammering down onto the truck and Negan’s terrible taste in music playing loudly from the car stereo…they was little-to-no conversation between the pair…until they finally found themselves at their destination around mid-afternoon.

Negan had used his radio a couple of times. Checking in with the men in the other truck, as well as Dwight in the back. But the equipment just seemed crackly and pretty intermittent out here in the middle of nowhere.

Blake stared out of the window, as Negan pulled the truck to a halt a little way away from a dark and looming building up ahead.

It looked like some sort of out of town convenience store. Blake knew that most of the ones she had encountered along the way had all been looted of food and medicine long ago…but the windows and doors of this one, looked surprisingly intact…which was good for them, she supposed.

But she knew that that would mean the place had not yet been cleared of walkers which was a dangerous thing. Especially out here where the rain and dull light would cause them to be privy to bad visibility and hearing.

“Well hot-diggity-dog,” Negan muttered, peering up at the store and switching off the engine. “Would you look at that fuckin’ beauty.”

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And here it is everybody! I feel this more as a practice sketch than a portrait to be honest, like… No redrawn scenes from the cartoon, just Linc and the many faces he use in his everyday wacky life… Oh just look at this loot now!

Next one is a surprise, a concept i’m working on about something that happened in the episode Space Invader and left me thinking, what could had happen if Lucy saw that? Or even, if that remained that way …Seeya folks! 

Out of My System (Part 2)

Originally posted by mymadnesswon

Pairings: Vane / Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (not a lot)

AN: I apologise for the probably terrible editing of this piece i’m still full of flu and feeling pretty crappy. I reached 300 followers today though and wanted to celebrate with a bit of fluffy Vane for my beautiful followers. 

@angelaiswriting @georgiagrl1990 @selldraug @angryares

You sat on the double bed with your legs crossed as you watched Vane pace up and down the small bedroom floor of your room. There was almost smoke coming out of his ears he was so angry. When he was in this kind of mood, when he was this angry there was little anyone could do to lam him down. Even you wouldn’t be able to say much to bring him down from the ledge he’d climbed himself up onto.

Instead you could sit and wait for him to calm himself, until he was ready to talk about whatever it was that had started the anger in the first place.

“Fucking Bastards” he suddenly shouted making a fist and smashing it into the wall “fucking cheap bastards”

The plaster had cracked and flaked as he hit the wall and you weren’t convince that he wouldn’t bring the whole thing down if he hit it again.

“Vane?” you said softly trying to get his attention. He spun to face you eyes blazing with anger. You may feel many things towards Vane so of which you didn’t want or need to investigate yet, fear however, wasn’t one of them. Vane had an evil reputation and you were aware of the vicious rumours about him, it was impossible not to be however he had never hurt you and you somehow just knew that he never would.

“Let me see” you urged taking the hand he had just smashed into the wall. The skin on his knuckles was torn, blood coming from the numerous small cuts there. “That was stupid”

“You think I’m stupid?” he growled out, anger still clouding his voice.

“I think hitting a wall is stupid yes” You ripped a piece of material off of your skirt blotting the cuts clean and tying the makeshift bandage around his knuckles to stem the bleeding. “Are you going to tell me?”

He was staring at the knot on his knuckles. “We got shafted in a deal” he eventually admitted changing his gaze to look at your face. “Half the loot is gone because fucking Jack Ratham thought once again he was cleverer than everyone else”

Of course it was Jack Ratham. It was always Jack.

“Vane, Jack is always going to think he is cleverer than everyone else. That will never change”

“Not helping”

“You didn’t let me finish” you admonished getting yet another growl from a clearly frustrated Vane. “What can change is the way you respond to him”

He wouldn’t admit it and no one else would dare try it but surprisingly often Vane would listen to logic and reason.

“Respond how?”

“Well I would guess that you mostly just yelled and threatened to cut his cock from his body once more”

“And if I did?” he muttered defensively, meaning he had.

“Well that method is obviously not working”

Vane really did look curious now as he sat down beside you on the bed grabbing your thighs and pulling you over to straddle his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck letting your forehead rest on his own.

“It might be time for a different method of dealing with Jack and Anne”

“What do you suggest?”

“What is the one thing that Jack likes more than women and power? The thing he can’t live without?”

“Money” his eyes widened “the one thing on this island that every man here wants more of”

“So if we take money away from him” you suggested “he bends more to… your way of thinking”

“Beauty and brains” Vane smiled brushing your hair back from your face placing his hands on your cheeks to tilt you head back enough so he could stare straight into your eyes. “How do you do that?” he was watching you carefully “how do you always know what to say?”

You laughed putting your hands up to cover his own. “Vane I never know what to say” she admitted softly. “It’s my own biggest secret, everyone says or somehow seems to think I have all the right words the answers to all the problems they keep bringing to me. I don’t know how I became this person, and I don’t know how to keep going most of the time. I’m not Eleanor Guthrie and don’t want to be yet somehow I’ve been thrust into that role”

“Y/N” the gravel was in his voice again this time not because of anger though.

There was that emotion there that neither wanted to acknowledge. It had been floating around between them for a while now. Unvoiced but there all the same. You were more scared of that emotion than you were of anything else in the world. So instead of answering it, instead of talking about and giving it voice you avoided the look in his eyes and reached out to pull his lips to your own. Kissing him with all your might, trying to let that explain without words that you knew what he was feeling and you felt it too.

Vane responded instantly gripping you roughly, lifting you even higher up his thighs by your hips holding hard enough that you were bound to get bruises from his fingers.

“Going to use your anger for something more productive Captain Vane?”

“Whatever the lady wants love”

In a quick movement that proved his muscles weren’t just for show but strength he’d lifted you up and rolled them over so he was on top of you laying between your legs.

Your hands made quick work of the meagre clothes you’d both been wearing.

“Vane hurry please” you begged as you parted your legs even further welcoming him into you.

With a need that matched your own Vane groaned pushing himself deeper into your body, one of his hands gripped the headboard of the bed giving him a balance to set a rough, quick pace carried onwards by the remains of his anger.

You needed him more than you’d ever needed him before, clinging to his shoulders urging him on with soft moans of his name. You dragged your nails down his back digging into skin desperate to feel anything he was willing to give you.

Vane could feel your urgency, could feel your desperation and it rose something primal in him, something wild and urgent that wanted nothing more than to make you scream his name to the heavens.

“Fuck Vane! Harder” you gasped out “please”

He grunted slamming himself deep into you, he could hear your moans becoming more erratic, muscles clamping down on his until finally you tipped over the edge with a cry wrenched from the depths of your throat.

Vane buried his head in your shoulder pumping a few more times before emptying himself inside you.

You both lay stuck together bodies laced with sweat as you continued to hold him tightly with your legs tangled in his own. Y/N had been one of the only women he’d slept with that he’d allowed to hold him after sex. The only one who he had wanted to hold him and hold in return.

“I fucked up your back”

Charles raised his head slightly at you words to look over one shoulder as your fingers traced the grooves and gouges that your nails had left there.

“Don’t care” was his eventual response.

He rolled off of you dislodging the hold you had on him and freeing their limbs from each other. Vane put his hands up behind his head staring up at the ceiling.

“You certainly know how to calm me down darling”

You poked him with your foot. “I don’t think that method is one I want to be using on anyone else”

He moved faster than you’d imagined possible for a man seemingly so at rest, hovering above you a hand at your throat.

“Don’t even think it Y/N”

“Why is that? Are you going to stop me if I wanted to Vane?” He didn’t answer just tightened the fingers around your throat.  “Just what is it you think you’d do?”

“I’d kill them” he whispered softly “I’d kill whoever I found you with slowly, painfully and then I’d deal with you”

“You going to kill me Charles? If I upset you? Defy you? What then?”

He paused the tension going out of his body in one long breath as he let go of your throat and rolled over to his back once more.

“No” he sighed rubbing as his face and stubbled jaw “no pet I wouldn’t kill you”

Y/N didn’t like the sound of resignation in his voice, it wasn’t in his nature to sound so defeated. Rolling over yourself so you could lean your arms on his chest.

“I won’t Vane, you know I wouldn’t”

He looked carefully at you “You won’t?”

You shook your head “I won’t and I wouldn’t”

Vane impulsively wrapped an arm around your waist holding you down to his chest kissing the top of your head.

“I know pet. I know you wouldn’t” he snorted “after all it took long enough for me to get you in my bed”

You elbowed him in the stomach, or as well as you could considering your current position. “You are nothing but a walking ego Captain Charles Vane. That an a roving cock”

“Ain’t that the truth sweetheart” he was dragging a hand up and down your back in comforting strokes.

“CAPTAIN” the shout from below the window made you groan “CAPTAIN I KNOW YOU’RE UP THERE” he sounded drunk “CAPTAIN!?”

“Fucking Jack Ratham” he growled sitting up and flinging himself out of bed to wrench open the window.

You laid there listening to them fight back and forth. “For fuck sake Vane just go down. Stop screaming out of my window”

Vane cursed harshly grabbing his trousers and yanking them on. “Jack is going to owe me for more than half some gold at this rate”

You watched as he stormed out the room with enough force that you almost felt sorry for Jack. Almost.


An elemental mage named Sophie M. Starwater has developed a novel architectural defense for her home. The newly crafted spell, Bubble Dock, creates a permanent shield allowing light and air in while keeping water and invaders out.

The shape of her dock includes an invisible ramp leading from the shore to the building’s main entrance, so Starwater simply walks through water parting before her and to the front door. Without her direct permission, any traveler able to find the Dock (a tremendous feat in and of itself) would encounter an invisible wall of force.

Ms. Starwater keeps a small, dry garden in her below-the-waters home. Given its location, she is able to balance the flow of sunlight and completely block pests. A small pool on one end of the garden serves as a doorway, creating a sort of self-service cafe for passing water creatures. Such treats, and a pact of mutual protection, has created a beautiful and lasting partnership. “We used to get a fair number of adventurers coming through here, looking for loot and bragging rights,” Calliope, a local water nymph, reported. “But with Sophie guarding the shore, only the most foolhardy make it into the water and they are easy to deal with.”

Being submerged, the Starwater home need not be concerned with rain or weather. Privacy is achieved by controlling the dome’s opacity in various sections, as well as cleverly placed trees, shrubs, and other green spaces. The unusual flora has made it a popular aquatic tourist destination and Ms. Starwater never is wanting for guests at tea time.

Look at all this fatherly loot! 

An inviting PILE OF PIPES, a somewhat less inviting PILE OF RAZOR BLADES, a SPARE CAR, an assortment of SHOES, HATS, and TIES, several issues of THE SERIOUS JESTER, TICKET STUBS TO CIRQUE DU SOLEIL (you would prefer to forget what happened that day, he was just so embarrassing), 

(Wow, now that’s a call back. The last time John brought up the Cirque du Soleil noodle incident was in Act flipping One.)


Interestingly, that lighter is decorated with the Ace of Spades. John also had a spades sweater during a flashback scene, so this is now the second time his family has been associated with Jack Noir’s calling card.

anonymous asked:

Hey can you do an imagine where you go over to Dylan's house and are drinking with the guys and you get really touchy when you're drunk so you're like all over Dylan laughing about it. Do what you want with that and then when you wake up in the morning you're in his bed with him. You can make it any way you want to. Thank you! Live your imagines!

Ty ty dear!!

“Shots?” Eric called from the next room over.  “Shots!” you and your friends answered enthusiastically. Eric walked in holding a bottle of Jim Beam and several Dixie cups. You laughed, “Damn Eric, your Kansas is showing.” He shot you a “ha ha very funny” look and set the loot down on the plastic fold out table. You all poured your shots, tapping them down on the table before throwing them back. A synchronized “Ugh” came from the small group, but everyone went back for more.

By your third shot you were feeling quite free, and quite friendly. You put an arm around Dylan’s neck and fell into his lap, tilting your head backwards to look at him. “Hi,” you giggled at him. “Hello.” Dylan said with raised eyebrows. “Watcha drinkin?” you asked taking the plastic cup from his hand and smelling it. “A screwdr– okay then.” You interrupted his answer by downing the remaining liquid and handing the cup back to him before walking back to get yourself another drink.

The group of rowdy teenagers had calmed down within two hours time. They now sat in small circles, telling jokes and stories. Dylan and Eric were sitting beside each other on the ratty basement sofa. You made your way to your friends and plopped down between them, smiling widely when they looked at you. Eric chuckled, “Damn y/n, you’re wasted.” You managed to focus your eyes on his face and squinted at him. “You don’t know anything,” you booped his nose with the last syllable. He laughed and leaned back into the couch, “If you say so.”

You turned your attention to Dylan who was wearing a slightly worried expression. “How many drinks have you had?” he asked, eyeing your cup. “Um…” you looked up at the ceiling and tried to think, but couldn’t quite remember. “A few.” you decided, nodding.

“Okay, well,” he started, taking the red plastic from your hand and setting it down on the table. “I think you’ve had enough.” he said this as if you were a child gorging yourself on halloween candy.

“Oh, Dylan,” you sighed, leaning back into his lap and putting your feet  on Eric. “You’re so good at taking care of me.” Dylan half-smiled at you, “Well you’re not gonna do it yourself.”

Eric nodded, patting your leg before turning to talk to the girl sitting in a plastic chair beside him. You pulled yourself up and looked up at Dylan. “You,” you smiled, hugging his arm, “Are just so, so sweet.” You nuzzled into his arm and he chuckled, trading amused looks with Eric. That is, until you sat up and climbed back into his lap, facing him this time. His expression dropped and the tips of his ears turned red. You grabbed his head and hugged it to your chest, stroking his hair and smiling. You could feel just how hot his face was getting. “Y/n–” he started in an apprehensive voice. “Yes, Dyl?” you answered, sliding down to meet his eye level. As you did this you ground your hips into his without really meaning to. He shifted uncomfortably and struggled to find an appropriate place to put his hands. “Dylan?” you purred, trailing a finger across his collarbone and bringing it up to push a shaggy curl behind his ear. “Are you okay?”

“Oh wow,” Eric laughed, “I’m gonna head home and let you guys… do whatever it is you’re doing.” You reached a hand out to Eric and he took it. “You’re not driving are you?” you asked, worried. “Nah, I’ve got a ride.” he nodded his head towards the girl he was talking to earlier. “That’s good.” you said very seriously. He ruffled your hair and shot a wink to Dylan before heading out. You turned your face back to Dylan and looked into his blue eyes, blinking slowly as you leaned in.

You groaned and rolled over. Holy shit your head was killing you. And your breath tasted terrible. You sat up and quickly realized you weren’t in your bed. You were in your best friend’s bed. Dylan’s bed. Wait– SHIT. You were in Dylan’s bed. You looked down and found yourself wearing only one of his t-shirts and your panties. Oh fuck no. you thought to yourself, struggling to recall the night before. The last thing you remembered was being in Dylan’s lap and leaning down to… Oh fuck. You threw the blankets off of yourself and looked around the room for your belongings.

“Hey,” came Dylan’s voice from the doorway where he stood with two cups of coffee. You stared at him for a moment before taking the mug he offered you. He sat down on the bed and you followed, sitting in awkward silence while the two of you sipped your drink. “This coffee is good.” you said just to break the silence. “Thanks.” Dylan replied. Neither of you looked at each other.

You took in a deep breath after a few minutes and prepared to ask the question swarming your mind. “Uh, did we…?”  you started, not wanting to finish the thought. Dylan shook his head. “Nope.”  You sighed in relief.

“Where uh, where are my clothes?”

“In the wash.” Dylan replied. You looked at him in confusion. “You threw up all over them. And me.” He said, his tone a mixture of amusement and disgust.  “No I didn’t! You’re lying!” It was more of a plea than an accusation.

“Yep,” he cracked a small smile and looked over at you. “I thought you were going to kiss me. Instead you vomited right down the front of my shirt. And then your own.” He was holding back a laugh. “Oh my god Dylan, I am so sorry!” this was mortifying. Maybe even worse than a drunken one night stand. He set your empty mugs down on the bed side table and put an arm around you, “Don’t worry about it, shortstack. It happens to the best of us.” You squinted playfully at him “Does it?”

“Well, no.” he admitted, “But I thought it might make you feel better to say it does.”

You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Dyl.” you said softly. “You take such good care of me.” He pulled you closer and squeezed your arm. “Someone’s got to.”


This afternoon I got the Halloween candy ready for all the adorable little kids! As I do every year.

Seeing the Lifesavers Big Ring Gummy candy brought back some memories. When my sons were little they learned about the daddy tax as all children should.

On Halloween night I looked through their trick-or-treating loot. No, I wasn’t worried about razor blades. I wanted treats for myself. Red (cherry flavored) candy is my favorite.

One of the last times the boys ever went trick-or-treating they didn’t complain about the daddy tax. In fact, when they got home one of them said “Hey dad, I saved you some red candy!”