#i mean to be fair many of us have done bad things without knowing

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Just Pretend - A Babylon the Great Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Happy Thursday! I'm still on vacation, but just to keep y'all fed, here's a dream bonus chapter! I have. Many plans.

Chapter title from Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You and Dean have some dreams. Takes place almost any time after Chapter 20. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff

Read on A03!

“Dean.” Bobby sighed, running a hand over his face. “I ain’t gonna tell your daddy. Nothin’ useful gonna happen if I do.”

“Awesome.” Dean grinned, starting to push up from his chair. “I’m gonna hit the-“

“Sit your ass back down, boy. We ain’t done.”

Dean swallowed, and dropped back down.

“You’re not stupid, Dean.” Bobby grunted, holding Dean’s gaze. “I know you’re not, no matter what you try to convince people with your stupid fuckin’ showboatin’. But that? That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever goddamn seen.”

Dean didn’t answer. It wasn’t his turn to answer yet.

And he was an idiot. Dad called him an idiot all the time, and his grades never proved anything otherwise. But it had stopped hurting after a while. Like a wound that goes numb if it was given enough time. Still festering, but the pain long gone. 

There were too many things that qualified Dean to be an idiot. Letting Dad lead a hunt without ‘contributing enough’. Coming up with his own plans for a hunt. Thinking about any life besides hunting, with a nice girl. Wanting anything beside that nice girl he wasn’t allowed to really want either. Drinking too much. Not drinking enough. Listening to music too loud. Listening to the wrong music. 

Sometimes, he had just wondered if Dad didn’t like him.

And in this moment, sitting across the table from Bobby, it had only been a thought. Not the horrible, rotten truth. 

“If I catch you doin’ that again, John’s gonna be the least of your worries.” Bobby muttered. “I might not be about to use you as bait on a hunt, but that don’t mean you can just fuckin’ walk all over me. I know how teenager brains work, Dean, and I know every goddamn exit outta this house. You ain’t gettin’ around me. Understood?”

“Yeah, but-“ Dean sighed. “It wasn’t even that bad, Bobby-“

“You stole a fuckin’ car, ya idjit. And you didn’t even do it right.”

“Huh. How can you steal a car wrong?” 

Dean started in his chair, but he needed to stop doing that. He should be expecting it by now. She was always there. With Dean. One way or another, She haunted him all the goddamn time. 

And now, She was standing behind him with a curious expression, Her fingers playing with his hair, and when he leaned back to grin at Her, she returned it without a thought. 

“You need to stop sneaking up on me, sweetheart. One day I’m gonna deck you on accident.”

She scoffed. “You wish, Winchester.” 

That was fair. If Dean ever did try to punch Her—though he’d rather eat acid than lay a single goddamn hand on Her—there was no way the hit would land. She was too quick, and hand to hand was Her specialty. He’d probably end up impaled on something, and deserving it.  

He’d hurt a lot of people. Done a lot of really shitty, stupid things. 

The worst would be trying to hurt Her. 

“Look.” She’d moved to stand behind Bobby as he continued his lecture—now only a dull sound floating around the air—and held up a strange looking clay sculpture on the counter with a wide, bright smile. “This is mine.”

Dean raised his brows. “Yours?”

“I made it,” She hummed, leaning forward to pass it into Dean’s hands. “Rufus bought me a bunch of clay. He’d been on this whole ‘makin’ something might help’ thing for a few months, and it sorta did. I mean, he’s ugly, but I liked him.”

“He?” Dean looked between Her and the sculpture—although it was more of a blob with a lot of Enochian carved into it, covered in patchy blue paint—with a small grin. “Did you name him?”

 “Jim.” She shrugged, returning to Dean’s side, and he gave Her a flat look.

“Jim.”

She nodded, Her fingers drifting back into Dean’s hair. “I blew him up by accident, when I failed the math test I gave myself. Then I cried for five days.”

Dean grinned, wrapped his arm up around Her waist, and tugged Her a little closer. “You gave yourself a math test, sweetheart?”

She flushed. “I was bored.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ nerd-“

“I- I didn’t have anything to do-“

“I know, Princess.” Dean rubbed his hold on Her hip, and She was looking at him with such open awe, he hated his brain a little bit. For letting him see that, when it couldn’t be real. 

“De-“

“Don’t worry,” He said Her name with a smirk, before She could push it. “I think it’s fucking hot. Never gonna lose bar trivia, long as I got my smart girl.”

“Oh.” Hitched breath. Parted lips. “I- Good. You- You’re hot too.”

He could feel the phantom heat on the back of his neck. She smelled so fucking good. “You think I’m hot, baby?”

Her mouth was almost hanging open, and Dean was sitting too tall in his chair. It was just a dream. He could grab Her jaw and kiss her, since it was just a dream-

She was leaning down. And he could see every color in Her eyes, and even in a dream, they were fucking blinding.

“Dean.” She hummed, Her voice still a little breathless, and their noses were almost bumping. “You didn’t tell me how you stole the car wrong.”

“Uh,” he blinked, trying to remember. He felt sort of drunk. “Not sure. I think it was something about the license plates. Didn’t swap them.”

“Yikes.” She shook Her head, fingers starting to play with his hair again.

He felt a little like a freaking dog. 

He never wanted it to stop. 

“Why’d you steal a car in the first place?”

“To hunt.” He muttered, watching Her brow furrow slightly. In concentration. She was okay. “I’d been hearing things about the woods all week. Animals missing. Trees falling. Someone guy at a bar said he tried to drink water and it ended up being blood.”

She hummed, glancing back up to Bobby. “How old are you right now?”

“Uh,” Dean glanced down at his hands. “I think I’m sixteen.”

“So I’m…” She paused, Her lip pouting out slight. “Thirteen? That might have been me.”

“That- What?”

“The trees and water.” She shrugged. “Not the animals. That was a wendigo I was trying to turn back.”

“Turn back?”

“I was starting to experiment with different rituals.” She mumbled. “I was in the woods a lot, and it found me but didn’t attack me, so I was keeping it in a cave. Trying to see if I could change it back. Bobby didn’t know, and it got out and started killed town pets.” She frowned. “I, uh- Had a freak out after a kitten died. Then the blood water thing happened, and I killed the wendigo by accident. But it- It could talk again, and-“

Dean muttered Her name, and She shook her head, those little lines deepening.

“I didn’t mean to. I just got upset, and then I lost it, and-“

She was about to start crying. Dean could hear it in Her voice. And She must have told him this story before and he’d just forgotten, so he didn’t need to hear it all over again if it made Her goddamn cry. Even in a dream, it made his own chest tighten. 

So Dean tugged Her around the car, right into his lap, and wrapped his arms around Her stomach. 

“Breathe, Princess.” He muttered, kissing the tip of Her nose, and She gave him a sad, pretty smile. “You know, I was only here cause Dad was hunting a wendigo up north. He can back pissed off that he couldn’t even find it.”

She sighed, Her face dropping into Dean’s neck. “Sorry.”

“Nah. Don’t be sorry for that. Be sorry for Bobby’s about to yell at me for thirty more freakin’ minutes after I tell him I was trying to hunt.”

She smiled against him. “That’s a you mistake, Deano.”

“Yeah.” He let out a slow breath, tangling his hand in Her hair. “If I had gone out, would I have found you?”

“No. I’m probably at Rufus’ right now.” She leaned back, Her eyes soft and bright on Dean’s. “Would you have wanted to find me?”

“I’d always want to find you,” he muttered, reaching up to trace his thumb over Her lower lip. “You’re the best thing that’s ever goddamn happened to me, Princess.”

“Thanks.” She whispered. “You- You too.”

“Me too?”

“I’d want to find you.” She dropped Her head back to his neck. “I’m not sure what would have happened. If you did find me before that moroi. But I still wish you had.”

“Ah.” Dean swallowed, pressing his face into Her hair. “Do you- Uh- You ever think about it? What mighta gone down if I hadn’t listened to my dad, and stayed?”

She shook Her head against him. “No. It’s- There’s no point in it. You left. And now we’re here.”

“Yeah, but we could be somewhere else.” He grumbled. “We coulda been on a beach having honeymoon sex.”

Hitched breath. “You- You think we would’ve been married?”

Dean snorted. “I think we would’ve had a little league baseball team by now.”

“A-“

“A family, Princess.” He grinned against Her. She smelled so fucking good. “You know, you’re really, uh- What’s the word for not seeing obvious things-“

“Oblivious.” She grumbled, leaning back with a glare. “And I am not-“

“Yeah, you are.” Dean kissed the tip of Her nose. Hitched breath and Flush. “It’s pretty fucking adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Bossy-“

She whacked his arm and dropped Her face back down, and Dean just laughed.

There was a long moment of easy silence—only the smell of fruit and phantom feeling of Her in Dean’s arms—before She broke it.

“Maybe there’s a universe where we do have that.” She mumbled against him. “But I still like what we have.”

Dean frowned. “You believe in other universes?”

“Multiverse theory has some incredibly plausible science, Deano. I’m a scholar.”

“Of course you are, sweetheart. Freakin’ Nerd.” He chuckled, and forced out the question before he could stop himself. “You think that universe exists? Where we’re- y’know.”

“Yeah. I mean, I like to think so.” She sighed, Her arms tightening around him. “I like to think I find you every time, De. All the way down.”

He sighed, and pressed a kiss to the top of Her head. “All the way down.”

——————

This isn’t the best place to do stitches, but you don’t have anywhere else to go. You can’t do the whole eight-hour drive back to Bobby. Emergency rooms aren’t on the table. You don’t have any friends, or even friendly people to call. 

It’s just you, a stolen Lexus, and a stitch kit that doctors would probably call ‘abominable.’

But you’ll get through it. 

You always do.

And if Bobby notices, when you get back, you can say ‘I didn’t mean to’ and mean it. This won’t be another broken plate or burn situation. You’ll be able to explain that the guy wouldn’t leave you alone, and how when you told him that you weren’t legal it only seemed to spur him on. That he called you a pretty little girl, and didn’t belong in a dangerous place like this, then laughed when you told him you weren’t that worried about it.

You were the danger.

“That right, darling?” He moved closer, and you’d fixed your eyes on the counter as the Darkness started to turn in your body. “You think you got a big, mean bite?”

You hadn’t answered. It was never smart to answer.

“What, you think you’re too good to bark at me?” He’d grabbed your arm, and you’d bite your tongue until you tasted iron. “Think I won’t be able to put a collar on you, sweetheart? See how long it takes to break this pretty body in-“

His elbow hadn’t pushed your glass off the table. But it had certainly been close enough to look like it. And it was a lot easier for the bartenders to believe, rather than you knocking it over on purpose.

And you’d played the feral animal card. You weren’t afraid to. It wasn’t sacrificing your dignity or skill to brandish the largest shard of glass like and spit at the man to leave you alone, all while your blood dripped onto the floor.

You’d barely even winced. After, you’d cried, but mostly so people would stop trying to talk to you.

And you really hadn’t been intending for the shard to slice open your palm. But the Darkness had be shoved back down, and no one had gotten hurt but you.

It was right over your old scar, anyway. And considering the conditions—that’s either slime or semen on the wall, and the other bit is definitely blood, and this rubbing alcohol bottle has to be cut with something—you’d call these stitches quality. Bobby probably won’t even notice anything happened at all.

And if he does, you didn’t mean to.

You didn’t. 

“Why are we on the floor.”

You don’t bother to look over as you pull the next stitch through. “It’s private.”

“Uh,” You can hear the frown in Dean’s floor. “This kinda looks like a public bathroom, sweetheart-“

“It is. I locked the door.”

“And if people gotta go?”

“They can- Shit.” You fucked it, and the sting is faint and barely an echo of the actual pain, but there’s also blood running down your wrist, and you’d loved this jacket. “Fuck-“

Dean mutters your name, grabbing your wounded hand. “Son of a bitch, Princess- What the hell did you do?”

“Cut my hand,” You mumble, dropping your brow to his shoulder. “It was an accident.”

He only grunts, and you don’t fight when he takes over, resting your hand on his knee and letting you lean against his body as he works on the stitches.

“You’re good at this,” you mumble, and you’d already known that, but you don’t tell him good things enough. He deserves to hear them. “You’re good at everything.“

He chuckles. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.” You prop your chin up, watching him frown at your hand. So pretty. Golden. And right now—when it’s not real—all yours. “You can read, and fight, and build cars-“

“I don’t build them, sweetheart. I fix them.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not. And I don’t think reading is that big a thing to be good at. You’re better at it anyway.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are.” Dean glance over, his eyes locking onto yours, his voice dropping so low you can feel it in your chest. “You could probably take over the world, if you stopped trying to hurt yourself.”

He runs his thumb over your palm with a pointed look, and you roll your eyes.

“I told you, it was an accident-“

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Dean-“

“I know how you dealt with your shit,” Dean mutters your name, his attention dropping back to your palm. “And I’m not pissed. But you don’t do accidents.” 

You blink at him, but before you can ask what that means, he’s pushing on.

“This how you got your scar? No- Wait.” He glances back up, frowning slightly. “You’ve told me this before. It was your psycho family, right?”

“Yeah.” You whisper, and Dean nods to himself, moving back to your stitches.

“They better fucking pray I never get my hands on them.” He grumbles, pulling through the last stitch. “Would make them swim with the fucking fishes.”

You giggle. “Are you a 1920s Chicago mobster, Deano?”

“For you, baby?” He pulls your hand up, pressing a kiss over your palm. “I’m anything you want.”

You swallow, forcing yourself to hold his gaze as your voice grows breathy. “Oh.”

Dean nods, a small smirk on his face, and it takes a second to clear your head of Dean, Golden and pretty and looking at you like you pulled the sun out of your chest for him to hold. 

“I- Is this like your cowboy daydream?”

He scowls. “It’s not a daydream-“

“It’s a daydream, De.”

“No, it’s a fantasy. Daydream makes me sound like I’m a sweaty pre-teen with no goddamn creativity.” Dean scoffs, and suddenly you’re being pulled right into his lap. “It’s my fantasy, Princess. Respect the effort.”

“Right,” you hum, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers. “The effort. For your cowboy fantasy.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles. “You’d like it.”

“Would I?”

“Yeah. You would. I mean- I hope you would.” You glance up to see him frowning at the air, serious and deep in thought and downright adorable. “I’m a cowboy passing through town, and-“

“Sam’s a sheriff, and Bobby runs a bar, and you plant your roots in our town.” 

Dean blinks at you. “Uh- Yeah. That.”

“I listen to you, De.” You shrug, looking back to his hand. “You’ve told me before.”

“But I didn’t tell you about how I only stay cause we get together.”  He says that like it’s a challenge, and you still. “And how sometimes I’ll leave to go do outlaw stuff, but I always bring you something back. And we grow old together, and have two kids. Little girls that help you run the bar. And then you die on the porch, and I die five minutes after.”

You don’t remember how words work. And you really fucking hate that your brain does this. Takes all these small things you know about Dean—the real Dean, probably knocked out after a hunt a few states over—and turns them into this. How it makes his words sound so real. How you’re giving yourself too much, but still not nearly enough. 

“Why do I die first?” You whisper, because it’s all you can think to say. “Why not after you.”

“I already died first.” He shrugs, and you swallow a heavy lump in your throat. “Not fair that you gotta do it twice.”

No. That wouldn’t be fair. 

He’s such an idiot. A big, genius, Golden idiot who makes you die in his fantasy, so you never have to live without him, because the first time you tried it hurt more than anything and tore you to shreds. And it’s all in your head but you love him so much.

“Do you have any of those?”

You frown at him. “Any-“

“Fantasies.” He mumbles, his hand moving to trace over your face. “Like, I got another one where I win your hand in a tournament.”

“My hand?”

He nods. “You’re a princess, and the king holds a big contest to marry you, and I win.”

You snort. “How progressive of you, Deano-“

“No, it’s- Damn it, it’s not like that-“

“What’s it like, then?”

“I’m just like, a peasant.” He shrugs. “And you wander into town, and we meet at a tavern or on a hunt or something. Then I enter the contest cause I’ve already got your heart, but I wanna earn you.”

You hum, watching him carefully. “Earn me?”

“Yeah. I win the contest against all the pretty boy princes, and then I get to be your knight consort.”

“What the fuck is a knight consort-“

“It’s like, uh- A bodyguard that does sex.”

It’s pointless to try and fight your smile. “I don’t think that’s a thing, De.”

“Yeah, it is-“

“In what?”

“Movies.”

You giggle, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“C’mon, it’s a fantasy. I bet yours isn’t well researched and-“ Dean cuts himself off with a grin. “Do you research your fantasies, Princess?”

You shake your head. “I- I don’t have fantasies.”

That’s a lie.

You’ve gotten better at having fantasies. You have one where you’re treasure hunters, one where you all live in a beautiful garden where you’re never in need and Dean kisses you under a waterfall every night, and one where Dean’s a mechanic, you’re a librarian, and everything is normal.

But your rules. You can’t tell Dean you love him. If you tell him about the fantasies, you’ll tell him you love him. 

So you just settle for a half truth. Leaning into his hand on your cheek and giving him a wide, easy smile. 

He’s staring at you. With wide, blown out eyes. 

It would be nice if he never looked away. Or you woke up, and one of those fantasies was true. Because you mean your next words more than you’ll ever be able to properly explain.

“I just want you, Dean. I- I don’t really care how.”

His throat bobs, and his voice drops to a rasp. “Alright. I can get on board with that.”

“Can you?”

“Yeah,” Dean leans forward to kiss your brow, and you sigh. “I can.”

End Note: I love the dreams so much. They're my favorite way to show/explore their respective childhood, and it's a beautiful chance to make them be cute and fluffy.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Buy me a coffee!☕️

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[not-poignant]

I love the way you write and FFS is my favourite fic of yours. It was very healing and comforting watching a character go through such a difficult mental health journey. It made me feel less alone. Ef has motivated me to keep going on because things can always get better.

I just wanted to say thank you very much, and I hope you rest as much as you can while you're on break. (P.S. I am super excited for Constellations!! When you mentioned Leo in the last chapter I was like YES! They're still friends!)

Hi anon

I'm so glad you enjoy Falling Falling Stars, it was such a huge undertaking but it was so cathartic even writing it and sharing it at the time, I think it's been pretty humbling honestly that so many folks have brought so much of themselves and their lives to this story, and connect with it and the characters in it.

Efnisien is pretty awesome as a character as a vehicle of 'it sucks and you might even have done bad things but you're still allowed to have good things and you can always improve / better yourself' etc. I used to get a few 'I've never done anything like Efnisien but I relate to him' and my thoughts on that have always been that many of us know what it's like to feel like the worst, even if we've relatively never done anything that bad at all. And it's hard to recover from that feeling, but...perhaps seeing how someone who has been literally the worst is doing it might help.

We all deserve a redemption narrative, even the people who didn't need redeeming in the first place.

[jjscrybaby]

𝑻𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑶𝑵𝑬 💿 — 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚

rafe cameron x fem!reader | angst | (drug use, drug addiction, 1 mention of vomit & overdosing, happy ending cause i’m the worst with angst.)

masterlist.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You couldn’t look away, no matter how badly you wanted to. His pupils were blown out, his nostrils were red and dripping, there was a slight swing to his jaw. You knew it was bad, but you’d never let yourself focus on it this much; you knew once you did there would be no going back.

Rafe was pacing back and forth, he’d started of with telling you a story about Topper but now he was on a self-pitying rant — the cocaine talk is on another level. He must’ve done at least a gram, you were certain there was a little bit of dry blood on his hands.

“You know I don’t want to be like this, right? Like, not that it’s that big of a deal, everyone does it, I mean even Top’s doin’ it at the moment. It’s not like I’m forty, I’m nineteen, I’m allowed to fuck up—” he rambled, hands waving about erratically as he spoke.

One thing he’s promised you when he first started the drug was that you’d never have to witness it, yet here he was in your bedroom off his head. This was your safe place, away from his angry outbursts during the withdrawals and constant need of reassurance during the come-downs.

“Rafe,” you interrupted, your voice exhausted yet snippy. He looked over at you, eyes wide. “What are you even talking about?”

“…what?” He murmured. It was clear he had no idea, and that just made you more pissed off.

“We were meant to be getting pizza and watching a movie,” you stated, tears springing to your eyes. He’d promised that you’d finally get a chill night to yourselves, but then again he always does.

“Yeah, order the food then,” he shrugged, grabbing his phone from the vanity to throw to you.

It landed on its screen, and the first thing you noticed was the white powder residue that had stuck onto his phone case. Your lip quivered, hands shaking as you shook your head and held the phone back to him.

“You won’t even be hungry. You’re off your fucking head,” you stated.

Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes at your attitude. “No I’m not. I’ve been home all day.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rafe!” You snapped, sitting up fully now as you stared daggers at him; trying to ignore the sting of your tears. “You’ve been with Barry, haven’t you?”

“I— I don’t get why it’s any of your business. You’re not my fuckin’ mom. I’m a grown man, I can do what I want,” he argued, voice raising.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You weren’t even sure the words were going to come out, but the second they did you felt a horrifying feeling; relief. Relief that you’d finally spoken your mind, relief that you weren’t allowing yourself to live in constant fear anymore.

Every moment you couldn’t get ahold of Rafe, night or day, you had a vivid image of him on the floor, choking on his own vomit after doing one too many lines. You’d told him once, in the safety of your covers, and he’d told you to stop being so damn dramatic. The problem was that you weren’t being dramatic, and him overdosing was a perfectly reasonable worry for you to have.

“What?” He asked, after a moment of silence where he’d just stared at you as if you’d lost your mind.

“I can’t do it,” you repeated, voice breaking. “I love you, but I refuse to be in a relationship where all I do is worry about you.”

“That’s- that’s not fuckin’ fair, baby. Don’t do that. You know I love you.” He was on the bed now, panic in his eyes as he crawled towards you and tried to grab at your hands. “I have a problem, okay? I know that. I’ll work on it, I promise. Just don’t do this, okay? You don’t want that, you don’t want to leave me.”

“It’s not about leaving you, Rafe,” you sob, now allowing your tears to freely fall. “It’s about putting myself first. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. We can’t even have one night without you being on it!”

“That’s not true! I’m not on it right now!” The fact he continued to lie just made things worse, and just made you stick with the decision you’d made.

“I want you to leave,” you said quietly.

He shook his head, reaching forward to wipe your tears with his thumbs. “No. I’m not leavin’. We’re not doing this. I need help, okay? I need help.”

“You may know you need help, but are you ready to get it?” The silence that followed was answer enough. “I want you to leave.”

Tears streamed down both your cheeks, he shook his head as he gripped onto your face. “Please— don’t do this, baby, please. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to lose you—”

“Then sort yourself out,” you stated bluntly, pulling away from his hold. “And once you do, we’ll talk.”

It looked like he was going to argue again, beg you to change your mind, but the look in your eyes told him it was no use. You’d decided, and deep down he completely understood why.

He got up from your bed, lip quivering and tears down his pale cheeks. He grabbed his phone and keys from your vanity and looked back at you, you refused to look at him. He stepped out of your room and closed the door behind him, collapsing against your bedroom door with a sob.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You hadn’t expected to hear from him right away, and you definitely weren’t going to be the first to reach out, but you didn’t think that five months would go by without a word. You hung in different circles, the last time you saw him was three months ago at the country club where you’d swiftly locked yourself in the bathroom to sob.

“Hey.” Your whole body stiffened at the familiar voice that you hadn’t heard in so long, your head swivelled round.

He looked different, he looked healthy. He’d gained the weight back in his face and his hair was buzzed short. You hadn’t seen him whatsoever, so you almost let out a gasp at the new look.

“Hi,” you replied softly, fingers tightening around the red-solo cup in your hand.

“Can we talk?” He asked. If he’d ever asked that before, you’d know that it wasn’t a question. It was a demand. But now it really felt like he was asking, it really felt like you had the option.

“Um… yeah. I just need to bring these drinks to the girls,” you explained, nodding to the table where you’d filled up multiple cups with vodka and orange-juice.

“Sure. Meet me in the hallway in five?” He questioned, giving you a smile. You felt yourself nodding your head, mirroring his expression.

You took the drinks over to your friends, you told a little white-lie and said you were going to the bathroom. They didn’t know the ins and outs of yours and Rafe’s relationship, but they knew how broken you were at the end of it; they wouldn’t understand.

He was leant against the wall, nibbling on his bottom lip as if he was nervous. When his eyes landed on you, he smiled softly and took a step forward to meet you halfway.

“Hey,” he greeted, again.

“Hi,” you murmured, looking up at him. “You shaved your hair.”

“Wanted a change,” he shrugged, running his hand over his buzzed head with a sheepish smile. “You like it?”

Surprisingly, you found yourself nodding. You’d always loved his hair, loved running your fingers through it or sleepily watching him sort it in the mornings. But the buzz cut made him look more mature, and that was something you never thought you’d see.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” you stated quietly. You’d refused to ask his friends where he was when you saw them at parties and the club, if you did it would only be proving you missed him.

“Yeah, uh, I spent a few months off the island,” he explained slowly, keeping his eyes on yours. “Went to rehab.”

“What?” You weren’t sure you’d heard him right, eyes widening slightly and heart racing. “You went to rehab?”

He smiled at you, nodding. “It was unhealthy and I needed to stop before I lost anything else.”

“So you’re sober?” You asked hopefully, praying this wasn’t some kind of cruel trick; a way to get his revenge for you leaving him behind.

“Yeah, I’m sober. Off the booze, too. Drinking water,” he laughed, waving his cup around.

“What are you doing at a party then?”

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a soft chuckle. “Uh, well, I only got back last night and I was going to try and go to your place but Top texted saying you were here.”

“Why are you here to see me?” You asked, heart stuttering in your chest.

“Because I fucked up, and you’re owed the biggest apology out of anyone. But mostly I wanted to show you who I am now, and who I want to be… with you,” he explained, voice soft and quiet.

Your eyes shone with tears as he stepped closer to you, one hand wrapping around your waist and the other cupping your cheek. You gave him a wobbly smile.

“I love you, so fucking much. These last few months have been hell, for a multitude of reasons, but all I could think about was you. I treated you badly, and I understand if you never want to see me again, but I’m begging you to give me another chance. To let me treat you how I should have from the start,” he said, wiping away a tear that dripped down your cheek.

“Okay,” you agreed, voice wavering with emotion. “I want that.”

A grin broke out on his face, his lips latching onto yours. The kiss was gentle, full of love and a thousand apologises. He pulled away first, his forehead leaning against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured back. “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Already? Someone’s eager,” he teased, making you swat at his chest with an amused smile. “I’m kiddin’. How ‘bout we go get some pizza and watch a movie?”

You nodded your head, arms looping around his neck. “Sounds perfect.”

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[itsgrimeytime]

like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

request for @zomb-1-egutzz

Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.

TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.

[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]

You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.

But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.

And you... you had nowhere else to go.

With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.

You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.

But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.

You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.

You didn't have to like it.

So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.

The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.

You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.

If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.

So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.

That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.

You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.

You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.

That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.

But, everything shifted when his kid got better.

You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.

There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.

Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-

Instead, you found something else.

In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.

You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.

Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.

You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.

It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.

On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."

The kid looked directly at you then.

"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.

"Carl," he spoke then.

You questioned, "What?"

"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."

You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.

"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.

"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).

You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.

Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.

"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."

That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.

It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.

You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.

Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.

And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.

"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."

"Carl, I gotta-"

"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.

"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"

Carl frowned.

Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."

Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"

"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"

Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.

And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."

That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.

You'd found a connection, and it was nice.

But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.

Lori's or Rick's.

Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.

You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.

You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)

And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.

Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.

When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"

God, he... he didn't-

You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.

A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.

You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-

Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.

You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.

"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."

And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.

That was where it started.

You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.

It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.

And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.

He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.

"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."

He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.

Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).

And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.

You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.

Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.

The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.

"Rick, you don't-"

He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."

"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."

"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.

He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.

You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.

And then, things happened in rapid succession.

The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.

The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.

Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.

Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.

The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.

"He's mine."

That day, you felt yourself come back again.

You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.

Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."

You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."

And then, you saw Rick.

That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.

"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"

Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.

You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.

"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"

He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.

Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."

You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.

Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.

With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.

You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.

You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.

Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.

He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.

When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).

"All better," you chimed, playfully.

He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.

It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-

With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."

He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.

The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.

And then Terminus.

To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-

You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-

You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.

You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.

Alive, alive, alive, alive.

Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.

Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.

You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.

Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.

"Ya okay?"

You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.

You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-

"Y/N?"

You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.

"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."

And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-

With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"

You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"

"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.

"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"

His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."

Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.

Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.

You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.

"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."

You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.

It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.

And then, a good day came.

Judith, baby Judith was back.

You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.

You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.

Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.

That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)

That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.

Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.

You pursed your lips, "Rick?"

He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"

You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.

"Hey, where are our kids?"

And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.

Your mind went completely blank.

He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"

Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"

"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."

It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.

"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"

"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."

You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"

"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"

Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.

"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."

He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.

"Yeah?"

You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-

"Yeah," you answered quietly.

He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"

Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."

"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.

"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."

Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.

"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.

"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.

You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.

God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"

He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."

You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.

He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.

"Is that-"

"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."

You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."

He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.

You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.

As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.

"Did ya mean it?"

You looked at him, curiously, "What?"

"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"

"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."

He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"

"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"

"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."

"Then, why-"

""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.

"Why?" you questioned.

Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"

You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"

"A gift," he answered, naturally.

You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"

"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."

"Where did you get a gift?"

"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.

"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"

Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."

Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.

Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.

"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.

You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.

"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.

You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."

Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.

And then, he turned around.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.

"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."

He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.

"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.

"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"

"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."

Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.

"How long did it take to find this?"

"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.

"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"

He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."

You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"

He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.

Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.

"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."

"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."

"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."

He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).

Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."

You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.

"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"

He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."

"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."

He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"

"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"

His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.

"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.

He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-

"Am I?"

Something in you snapped.

You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.

It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.

Before, pulling you forward even more.

It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.

Speaking of breath-

You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."

Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-

Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"

"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.

It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.

"Rick," you urged, laughing.

He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.

"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."

He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.

You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."

He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."

"How long?"

He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."

"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."

You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.

"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."

"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."

He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.

"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"

"Yeah, 'ey are."

And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.

You'd waited long enough for this.

He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.

And apparently, he had waited just as long.

[alexanderlightweight]

Wednesday, my favourite day^^ I really, really love the Cider verse. Does your writing muse feel willing to give us another entry? (sfw/nsfw, whatever fits the plot best) (love you and have the nicest day, week, month, year^^)

here is a little glimpse of Alec and Mirai trying to figure out how to salvage everything that's going down! Mirai has been working very hard to mitigate the disaster.

ty, I have gotten a lot of cleaning done and two prompts written in the two breaks i've taken so I feel accomplished ^_^

<3 hope you enjoy

lumine

-

the choice of hope

Meeting with Mirai is the most important goal of Alec’s day..

Everything else will come together, as long as Alec can get a full view of just how badly everything has been fucked up.

Which means he and Mirai sitting in the hidden tunnel of the greenhouse, a pot of tea between them and a plate of hard, spicy candies.

“The Clave tried to say it was our fault—” Mirai’s face twists with annoyance as she hands Alec her tablet. “Imogen was doing her best  to interfere.  She didn’t realize how close we were to our main goal of consolidating power and raising you as Head officially.  It messed up her plans. She’s now in an equally bad light with Lydia’s actions and we seem blameless.” Mirai is smug about that and it’s telling that she’s thrown herself and Alec’s fates together so quickly.

It’s a relief to be told everything he needs to succinctly and he takes the heavily spiced tea she offers him and swallows a hot, steaming mouthful.

It wakes him up in a way coffee — magical or mundane — never quite manages to. 

“Your parents were called back to Idris. Their presence was considered a deterrent, especially as Lydia claims a part of her issues was their continued interference.” 

Alec snorts, it doesn’t matter to him whether or not that's true. Anything that gets his parents out of his territory is a good thing. Passing a bit of blame on his parents when they’ve escaped more than their fair share only seems karmic.

“We’ll need to send Jace back to Idris. Izzy and that girl too.”

It hurts to say it, but Mirai won’t say it first. She’s amazing to work with but they’re still too new. She won’t press him so soon on something like this, which is why Alec will press himself.

For the good of his Institute and the future he’s building here, with Magnus.

Mirai inclines her head to him and Alec accepts it with a grateful sigh and a long sip of his tea.

“We’ve grown stagnant.  It happened before the Uprising and it’s happening again now. Once was bad enough, but again? Just because the Clave wants to ignore the monster it made.” Alec offers Mirai the folder he’d compiled while at Magnus’, hours and hours of time spent over old books with Magnus’ enthusiastic voice distracting him when the research got too boring.

“New patrols. More rigid training, meeting with local downworld leaders more often. Being seen to stand strong in the light, not just as a blade in the night.”

Mirai seems stunned but Alec knows that this is the moment this will crumble or rise, her knuckles tighten and a wide grin parts her face like a sun rising after a storm.

“Then we have a lot of work to do.”

—-

Alec’s wedding ring is protected by glamour, but he still keeps his fingerless gloves on.  The leather presses against the metal and the cool band of it is a constant reminder that he is no longer alone.

His siblings are gone.

Sent to Idris without even knowing Alec is married and Alec can’t even tell them because there is no telling how they would react to the news. There’s too many risks involved and Alec isn’t willing to bet his and Magnus’ happiness on a whim.

Another war is coming, no matter how hard he and Magnus work from the shadows to try and mitigate the damages that could be caused.

When Valentine is finally dead and the shadowworld purged of his ilk, Alec is going to insist they get an actual honeymoon.

He never really understood the appeal of such mundane tradition but now that he’d had time to think about it, it sounds amazing.

If he’s with Magnus of course.

-

AN:

Alec is feeling a little salty about everything. he hasn't even processed jace's punishment for runing Clary which means that Jace has to have that taken over by the clave and Alec is just feeling very 'why did I even bother trying so hard'

[qqueenofhades]

AAAAHHHHHHHH It's TIM! 1000% strong MN girl here and boy it's been real fun to watch Tim (and Peggy! Our amazing lieutenant governor) take a small small Democratic majority and do incredible things. My kid ate two meals at school every day for free. DELIGHTED that he's the VP pick. LET'S GOOOOOOOO!!!!

Listen, I am just ECSTATIC. Ever since I seriously became tuned into the veepstakes, he was my number one pick (I mean, I was not immune to the brief flirtation everyone had with Beshear/Buttigieg/etc), but yes. Walz was my top pick and I was trying desperately not to get my heart too set on him in case it fell through, but he was the obvious best choice of the contenders by a country mile. He has an almost absurdly Midwestern pro-America background (military veteran, public school teacher, football coach from a small rural town, etc) AND he has managed to enact a long list of progressive policies in Minnesota with a very narrow majority in the state legislature. Also, you're going to be seeing a lot of this video, for good reason:

Also.... let's be real, Shapiro would have been an incredible distraction/drag on the ticket, unfortunately. We don't need to deal with his retrograde views on Gaza and his other baggage, and while he is a very popular governor in Pennsylvania, it's less certain that his appeal would translate to other states. We can argue (or you know, let's not and move on) about whether or not that was fair, but this is just not the year to try to win the most critical high-stakes election ever by pissing off young voters. Shapiro has done plenty of good things and has time to develop his career further, but he would have been a BAD pick for 2024 and I was alarmed at how many Respected Pundits (tm) were pulling for him. Reuters even claimed that picking him would "defang Republican attempts to make Israel-Gaza a wedge issue for Democrats," which is such a mind-bogglingly stupid statement that it makes you wonder how anyone writing it actually got paid for their political insight, but it also explains a lot about mainstream media these days. Picking Shapiro would have been an absolute gift to the Republicans and bad-faith actors and others (plus like, I don't want to have to spend time winning back the young voters who are actually once more engaged in the process!) and would have led to the media eagerly jumping into the feeding frenzy (because they're desperate to have a reason not to cover Trump's increasingly crazy-ass shit) and other Democratic-on-Democratic infighting. And it goes without saying that WE CANNOT AFFORD THAT.

As well, picking Shapiro just because you need to win PA this election cycle is yet another example of why the Electoral College sucks, and the polling averages in PA have been moving solidly blue anyway. You can just park Shapiro there and have him campaign in the state as the sitting popular governor, rather than expose him to the liability of a nationwide campaign where, as noted, all the other stuff would be a drag. If it's true that the establishment was pushing Harris to pick Shapiro and she picked Walz instead, a) GOOD! and b) if anything, this election cycle needs to fucking teach us that we have got to stop going with the Conventional Wisdom Tee Em. Walz was already out there, he was already popular with the public/energizing the grassroots, AND he was the guy who coined the "Weird" attack line that is actually effective and organically popular against the Republicans and drives them batshit. So for Kamala to lean into that and take him as her running mate is... zomgz... smart, and I am not used to the Democrats playing smart and aggressive and not just passive-defensive. I don't understand. Wow.

Anyway, now watch the New York Times (and the others, lbr, but especially the NYT) desperately try to dig up scandalous stories about that time Walz didn't stop at the 4H booth at the county fair, or walked past someone without saying "Ope just gonna sneak by ya first" or some other terrible Midwestern sin, but fuck those guys. I am EXCITED I am ENERGIZED I am THRILLED. This is a GREAT new ticket that came together at incredibly short notice and completely changed the dynamics everywhere, Walz is gonna make JD Vance cry (unsure whether I want to see Harris demolish Trumpster or Midwestern Dad to turn the cranks on Weird Couchfucking Fascist Skidmark more, but both, both, both is good). LET'S GO GET THOSE WEIRD MOTHERFUCKERS, Y'ALL!!

HARRIS/WALZ 2024!

[grahminradarin]

Hi hey hello. I've been watching Miraculous since September, and I just finished.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS FANDOM?

That finale was amazingly well-made. I definitely get why people were disappointed, but there's no way that's everything. The writers who made the rest of the season so good are not capable of writing something this confusing and unsatisfying, unless it's on purpose. This story isn't done.

There has been a lot of focus in the season on class dynamics, but in the last couple of episodes they really start bringing this theme of how people deal with power to the forefront

With Ladybug and Chat deciding not to do anything against Chloe because it's not their responsibility even though they have the power to do it, everything with Lila, the increasingly reckless and harmful ways Gabriel is manipulating people because he thinks he gets to decide what is good for others, Gimmi complaining that no one ever summons them to tell them anything good and only summon Gimmi to use Gimmi's power.

And the thing that brings it together: Marinette's speech right at the end, just before Gabriel makes the wish, when she says the power is only valid when it's used for the greater good of other people.

And then the statue of Gabriel. Right after all of this, a statue commemorating the man who refuses to use his power for the good of others. The dissonance is on purpose. This story is thematically incomplete, and I think the London special will finally wrap it all up.

What does the fandom come away from this talking about? How interesting this all is and wondering how it gets resolved? No. The fandom on the subreddit (and some of them on Tumblr) say "The villain won without consequences! This is bad writing!" and "Why is Marinette not telling Adrien he's a sentimonster?".

I just. How do you watch that and come away with your biggest concern being "Marinette didn't tell Adrien the truth"? How do you not see that it's so much bigger than that? That's not one dangling plot thread, we're looking at an unfinished garment and complaining that the edges are fraying.

And a good portion of the fandom cannot for the life of themselves see the loom and the people working it still going. I don't know how to stretch this metaphor any further, but I cannot believe that anyone would look at something so blatantly incomplete and still treat it like it's the entire picture. It's a microcosm of a bigger issue with the fandom, which is, as far as I can tell, that this fandom wants to watch a different show. Seasons 4 and 5 are so vastly different from seasons 1 and 2, and I think the people that came here to enjoy the first two or three seasons but hated the later ones are angry with the show for not following the traditional kinds of stories in the genre.

This show isn't trying to be an episodic or somewhat serialized story about love squares and middle school nonsense. It's a deep and varied exploration of what being a magical girl does to a 14 year old (in addition to many other things), and it's not pretty. The show is trying to say "this was terrible for everyone, and it shouldn't have happened, but it did, and here's how". And most people didn't want that, which is fair. But it doesn't mean the show is badly written, nor does it mean the writers hate certain characters. It pisses me off that a show this well made, with so much time and effort and care, is constantly dismissed as a badly-written, disorganized piece of crap that people only like ironically. Something this well made deserves a more neutral presentation to let people form their own opinions, and it deserve appreciation for the innumerable things it does well, especially in later seasons and the specials.

In summary, Miraculous isn't bad. A vocal part, maybe even the majority, of the fandom just wanted something else based on the first 3 seasons, and hasn't realized it because they're so devoted to hating on the show. And it deserves a much better reputation than it has.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Baking With BF!Dean Winchester Headcanons

✨ Dean Winchester x GN!Reader ✨

*sighs in 2014 was 10 years ago* Minors do NOT interact, this is not “rizz-ing!” Off you go!

A/N: I love writing these because they’re like half baked yet surprisingly endearing thoughts and it’s fun haha.

Icons by me!

All notes are appreciated! Hope you enjoy!

Content Warning: I have a bad sense of humor and make some sex jokes but nothing too explicit, at least I think so. Definitely still 18+

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

-3 favorite things to bake with him

1. Pie (obvs)

2. Brownies (sometimes with pot…)

3. Cookies (all kinds)

-okay, now that that's been established...

-one day you had jokingly suggested the bunker should do a cookie jar

-this was taken seriously; not only by Dean, Sam and Cas; but also by literally every regular passerby. Even Rowena's made a batch of red velvet cookies. (We threw those ones away, we couldn't trust that they weren't poisoned, made of blood, or both)

-but if it's just the usual crew (you, the brothers, and Cas) then you have a weekly rotation

-and Dean regularly suckers you into "helping" him, even though you both knows he’s capable of being a big boy (and I mean he is a big boy if you catch my drift) and doing it himself

-those candy apple green eyes work wonders

-anyhoo

-one of his favorite, stupidly cheesy things to do is as follows:

-you’ll have a taste of the batter/dough/filling, as one does (it’s always good cause the two of you together are an unstoppable force in the kitchen) (alone is a different story- it’s usually Kraft Mac n Cheese cups)

-and while you’re trying it, making faces, he’ll look over and innocently ask if he can try it

-like “Can I get some, sweetheart?” (And yes he most certainly can get some.) (batter, I mean) (definitely batter) or “can I try some, doll?”

-and no matter how many times he’s tried it you’ll say yes

-so he’ll lean down, cupping your cheeks in his rough hands and kiss you as passionately as humanly possible

-like, these kisses could literally bake the cookies or whatever because of how hot they are

-and he’ll make sure he really gets to try it

-and then he’ll pull back with a smirk, cause he’s done it at least 30 times before and you still let him and still like melt into a puddle every single time. Without fail.

-you guys like to put on Disney soundtracks in the background when you bake. High school musical and Moana primarily, but he’s also taken with the soundtrack of Julie and the Phantoms. (He complained about the show being unrealistic supernaturally speaking and then was adamant that there should be a season two and cancelling it was a crime worthy of hell)

-also, rock, obviously. As a fan of Bon Jovi, you best believe you sell him on them and slow dance to Bed of Roses while things are in the oven. It’s only right.

-if you’re listening to heat of the moment and Sam the baby giraffe walks in he will get those sad eyes, making both of you scramble to make him something else, like some keto hidden veggie brownies or some shit, to make him feel better

-now, in specifics

-pie is for fun. You two usually make one to split for after dinner. Roughly once a month, but should be more often. Well, that’s not fair if you count creampies

-apple is his favorite, ofc. You use Mary’s recipe, and you’re the only person in the whole wide world that he trusts with modifying it in any way

-you also make them for him if he’s sick or if you guys have for some reason had a fight. The latter is rarer, but does still happen on occasion

-it’s okay though, because pie will always make things better

-cookies are almost exclusively for the jar. These are made on random frequencies, usually a lot at a time.

-he likes butterscotch a lot, and you find a way to mix your favorite flavors into either one monstrosity or one beauty of a cookie

-you guys have in fact made your own recipe. It’s awesome. Like, prized possession material.

-and then brownies

-they’re literally just pimped up store bought mix. Preferably Ghirardelli, for maximum bougie-ness

-and then sometimes you guys add some fun time grass

-you’ll do that when you just want to have a soft night. You’ll always way up to him laying on you and holding you like a koala though- may your back be prepared

-overall he just really enjoys spending time with you in any way that he can and baking is a great way to do that

-Dean Winchester is precious

-I rest my case

If you have any ideas for more headcanons, send a request! My box is always open!

Xx

[headcanonsfromthecabin]

OK I HAVE. SO MANY CHEATED HEADCANONS. CLEARS MY THROAT

necessary preface, i imagine that in a post-construct setting the voices only have scars for injuries they put mental significance on! because if they think its not a big deal, why would it be a big deal and scar?? yknow! so like my smitten design only has the scar from dying in chapter 1 vs cheated is COVERED in scars which leads into...

cheated fixates HEAVILY on how unfair razor was/how much she killed him without him having any chance!! thats not fair at all!

unfortunately cheated thinks abt his injuries and dying so much that he has chronic pain

that was long BUT IM NOT DONE. cheated ALSO has adhd and that results in pretty bad emotional regulation skills! and his thoughts wander easily when he isnt in a situation that is Glaringly Obvious [like the princess 5 feet away about to stab you]. cheated doesnt LIKE getting mad so much but hes about righteous anger so he gets mad when things arent fair [and sadly in the construct expecting things to be unfair makes them unfair a lot... and contrarian and cold both see him as an easy target to rile up for enrichment

cheated also has ptsd. the voices are usually at their "worst"/"most extreme" in their chapter 2s and i think cheated would be very quick to spiral if he thinks hes back in "nothing you do helps anything and just gets you stabbed forever"-type situations. i didnt come to this idea as a result of ptsd i just accidentally envisioned him with ptsd symptoms separate from the concept of ptsd and this is the easiest one to articulate

with all of this the rest of the flock also doesnt know WHY hes like this and assumes its just "well thats how cheated is!" which sadly means it takes until he finally admits he hates getting mad for anyone to try and help him with emotional regulation. and cold takes this opportunity when he shares that info to go "just stop feeling" and cheated decks him for it.

i know small cheated designs are common but i actually really like the idea of him being one of the tallest/biggest voices. make that bird loom over the others when hes pissed. i love when characters scare their friends for understandable reasons that dont excuse the behavior.

oh yeah he/it cheated. i only used he/him in this for clarity but im right trust btg told them themselves /j

ok thats all. for now. the rest of my thoughts are like a bajillion wordless concepts. i love cheated. can you tell who my favorite voice is.

ohhh oh I love this. big blocks of info my beloved <3 /gen jokes aside, all of these are SO GOOD??? OH MY GOD?? you, my friend, have cooked here 🙏 I really love the idea of the Voices post-construct only keeping the scars that matter to them like that is actually so important to me <333

[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 6

Loop #205

Grian: Scar! How have you done this?

Scar: C'mon Grian, I learnt you can make more potions then normal and I wasn't supposed to try one?

Grian : Not on me Scar! I look ridiculus!

Scar: Nooo! You look cool!

Grian: I'm a kid! I look 8 at most!

Scar: Hmmm... I have an idea!

Grian: I won't like, it will I?

Scar: This is Grain, Grian's son! Taking care of him while G is away!

Grian: I hate you...

Stress: Aww that's so nice of you, I didn't know Grian had a kid though.

Scar: Oh I didn't either! Grian said that he wanted to wait a bit to introduce him!

Grian: I will get revenge.

Stress: Oh! I see, well that make sense. He is quite the grumpy one isn't he?

Scar: Oh yeah! Definitely!

Stress: Oh, sorry but I better go now. Got lunch with Iskall!

Scar: Oh It's no problem! By Stress!

...

Grian: You will regret this, do you know how many awws I have gotten already?

Loop #206

Grian: Revenge. Sweet Revenge!

Scar: Hey, that's not fair! I turned you 8, I look 3!

Grian: Sucks doesn't it? Well now we'll see who gets the last laugh.

Stress: Oh Grian, who is that little cutie? Yours?

Grian: He's Scar's.

Stress: Oh! I didn't know you were a thing!

Grian: What, wait that isn't-

Stress: Isn't it a bit early for a kid though?

Grian: No, you misunderstand-

Stress: Oh damn I need to go! Sorry G, see you later.

Grian: I...

Scar: ... Well that didn't go like you wanted to did it?

Grian: ... I...did she really?.... What the hell just happened?

Loop #209

Pearl was truly enjoying this Empires loop, no demons, no rifts, just regular fun with her friends.

Scott: Hey Pearl, do you think you could help me nake the next looper proof escape room?

And suddenly her loop became a lot of a hell better.

Loop #212

Waking up in an outer plane wasn't part of Grian's plans for this loop but he could deal with it... probably. Checking his surrounded he realized even without checking his loops memories that he was in Limbo... Aka the chaotic neutral dimension aka pure chaos central. This was fine, Grian could live in chaos, he was used to it... Didn't make getting randomly hit by a piece of cheese going at supersonic speed any better.

Scar woke up in a wonderful place, with fresh water and sweet fruit and big big trees, he knew that he would build trees like these as soon as he could because they were oh do gorgeus. Scar didn't ever want to leave such a beautiful and colorful place, ever... The following loop Scar was informed by Grian that that was Arborea, plane of chaotic good and especially known for being extremely addictive.

Pearl hated this actually. To be fair Pandemonium wasn't too bad for a plane if you didn't count the chill...and howling wind...and smell of rot...and demon infestation... Ok it was pretty bad actually but it would have been fine if it wasn't for the alignement. Chaotic neutral she could get but chaotic evil? For real? She knew she could get unhinged as Scarlet Pearl but chaotic evil??? Really world tree? Really?

Scott didn't know what to think, on one of hand Mechanus as the lawful neutral plane wasn't as dangerous as some of the others darker ones... on the other hand this place was just so dull and gray and lifeless he considered jumping in the void. He had tried to convince the people here that a lot of every colour would be as balanced as there not being any but did they listen? No, they didn't. He knew he could get to Baator from there and while he didn't really see himself as lawful evil he was really tempted to do it if it meant feeling something.

Loop #215

Grian: Red King?

Ren: You have finally arrived, what is the meaning of this meeting?

Grian: I have a challenge.

Ren: A challenge? You dare?

Grian: I do. I challenge you to a duel, one on one.

Ren: For what?

Grian: I challenge you for the red crown.

The court all gasped in shock.

Ren: I see... and what if you lose.

Grian: My 3 lives, be it death or servitude, they will be yours.

Ren: ... All 3 you say? I agree.

Grian: Of course.

Ren didn't know how many loops Grian had praticed sword combat for this exact moment and well, he didn't have to know.

Loop #218

It took a lot of effort on all their parts and 3 fails but finally Scott and Grian had managed the most difficult and stressful challenge yet...

Jimmy: I won? I won!

Jimmy had won one of the life games, Scott was tearing up just thinking about it.

Loop #220

CGem!Pearl: Another pearl? A looper?

Pearl: Oh yes, It's nice to meet you, my name is Pearl...hence being a pearl.

CGem!Pearl: Oh! Oh my! Well, this is unexpected!

Steven: Oh that's going to be confusing. You can be uhhh... Red!

Pearl: Hmmm, what about Scarlet?

Steven: Uhhh, Scarlet? That's a type of red right? I like it.

Pearl: Oh, hello there mate.

Amethyst: Heeey... say, you wanna ditch this place and go smash some stuff?

Pearl: Of course I would love that.

Amethyst: Woo, wonder what weapon you have.

Pearl: It's a scythe.

Amethyst: Sick.

Garnet: Hmpfff.

CGem!Pearl: We should form Sardonyx, don't you agree Garne-

Fire Opal: Oh there's no need!

CGem!Pearl: Wait Amethyst did you-

Steven: Giant woman! Wait? Scarlet?

Fire Opal: Oh I'm ready to smash some bits!

Steven: Wooo!

Fire Opal then proceeded to destroy a ship with her kusarigama.

Steven: So... why Scarlet? If you don't mind me asking.

Pearl: Oh It's a reference to that time I went insane in a game because my friends left me.

Steven: ...

Pearl: Sorry, that's a bit weird.

Steven: Oh no! It's not! ... I turned into a giant pink lizard dino thing once I'm not judging.

Loop #225

Scott: Grian, are you crying?

Grian: N-No.

Scott: You are... what happened.

Grian: Just... You know Grumbot?

Scott: The robot you and Mumbo made?

Grian: That's the thing, most of the time he is just a robot...but sometimes he isn't! Sometimes he's my actual child and has real feelings and... The emperors still destroy him and I can't do anything about it.

Scott: G-

Grian: And sometimes I can tell that he has a soul and I can feel as he dies while everyone else laughs at it... And then.

Scott: ...go on.

Grian: Sometimes it happens before the loop and I look to my loop memories and realize the me that was there before also didn't care... I got abandoned by my parents in Japan and that is the same in most loops, the last thing I ever wanted was to become like them!

Scott: Come here Grian, let it out.

Loop #227

Scar had almost finished building the new and improved Scarland. He was so excited to show Grian when a cyan and orange portal appeared. That had to be Scott coming straight from New Life!

Scott: Scar! Just the man I was searching for!

Scar: Me?

Scott: So, you are having problems learning about loop because of your dyslexia?

Scar: ... Yeah?

Scott: I was talking to some older loopers last loops and they showed me this library with book copies written in a way to help with dyslexia so I grabbed a few.

Scar: Wait you got me books?

Scott: Yeah. Decided to start small to see if they would work out. If you need more I can show you the next time we loop there.

Scar: I- wow ... Do you want a free tour of Scarland as a thank you?

Scott: Eh, Sure. Why not?

Loop #229

Scott had been waiting for a supervillain variant for a while actually, ever since Grian and Scar had took over the world that time a while back. But still, out of all possible power he didn't get neither ice, fire, magic or colour related. He got electricity manipulation which was pretty op but he couldn't understand.

Scott: I don't get it, why electricity?

Pearl: Didn't you get smitten by lightning back in Last Life?

Scott: Fuck, is this going to become a thing now. At least I don't explode.

Loop #230

Scott: ...

Pearl: Pf...pftt.

Scott: Don't laugh.

Pearl: What did you say last time? At least I don't explode?

Scott: ...

Scott the creeper wasn't amused in the slightliest.

Loop #233

Scott: So, let's see who is who. I'm Mind.

Grian: Heart, mostly because of the eye connection.

Scott: And the purple.

Grian: And the purple, I know... Pearl?

Pearl: Soul! Because of the red probably. I get to have a scythe instead of a trident so that's fine.

Scott: Huh... Then, what about The Whole? Is Scar taking his place?

Pearl: Let me check... hmm, yep.

Scott: One time you tried to sing about...I don't know but it was nothing fucking new-

Pearl: Wrong song!

Scott: What?

Pearl: Storm and a spring is later, we need to do Mucka Blucka right now.

Grian: ~I've been sleeping in a cardboard box spending every dollar on a losing lot-

Pearl: That's The Bidding... You know what fuck this, if you are going to do what you want then I'm skipping to me splitting the ground.

Grian: Wait no no, we are way to early to do the Mind electric... Scar Isn't going to be able to handle it right now.

Scott: And if he does he won't be very happy with us.

Pearl: Alright, let's try again then.

Loop #237

The loop had started normal, Grian should have known it wouldn't last forever but waking up to find all the ground in the world to be replaced by ice.

Grian: How?

Pearl: I am still a goddess of chaos and this specific loop's code is extremely simple to manipulate.

Grian: ... But why?

Pearl: Why not?

Loop #238

Pearl: How dare you?

Grian: What? I didn't do anything.

Pearl: Why did you rotate my base back, do you know how much it took to rotate the first time around?

Grian: Guess you'll have to turn it again!

Loop #239

Grian: You are evil.

Pearl: Oh c'mon, just giving you some encouragement to make a better storage system.

Grian: B-but... why furbies? Why?

Pearl: Horrific little things aren't they? Was talking with Tango about giving them spider legs.

Grian: Why are you like this?

Loop #240

Pearl: You did what?

Grian: Moved your storage ststem...to the moon.

Pearl: You mean the moon that is currently crashing into the world?

Grian: ... Maybe?

Pearl: I see how it is, did you know Tango actually made me some spider furbies before the end of the loop?

Grian: Wait... no.

Pearl: Be prepared. They are coming. You can run but you can't hide.

Loop #245

Scott: You know, if you take like three or four loops in which you learn redstone you would probably be able to surpass Mumbo.

Grian: I would wouldn't I? .... Hmmm...

Loop #250

Mumbo: H-how- Mate? How have you done this?

Grian: It's really quite simple really.

Mumbo: That's- That's my line.

Grian: Mine now.

Loop #251

It was the start of a brand new loop, this one started quite late already in season 10. Grian was sleeping soundly when he was woken up by a frantic sounding Mumbo.

Mumbo: Grian, I had an horrible nightmare.

Grian: Uh huh?

Mumbo: You built a super compact spaceship and I couldn't understand and you used my "It's quite simple" line against me! It was horrible!

Grian: ... Wait.

Loop #252

Mumbo: I-it wasn't a prank?

Grian: Nope.

Scar: Mumbo!!?! You are looping!?

Pearl: Welcome to the loops mate?

Scott: Good luck, you'll need it.

Prev Next First

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG SUB] Jan and Nace at Hitradio Center, 23.07.2024

Photo source: Hitradio Center FB

Jan and Nace were guests at Hitradio Center in the morning on Tuesday, the 23rd of July 2024. They talked to Vesna Ponorac and Melani Mekicar about, among other things, 'Šta bih ja' and what to expect from the new album, who snores on the tour bus, and what they like best about each other.

Translation and captions by a member of Joker Out subs, English proofreading by IG GBoleyn123, video graphics by X pastellibianchi.

Full translated transcript under the cut!

Melani: Good morning from (Radio) Center, it's 7:36 AM and Vesna Ponorac and Melani Mekicar are keeping you company, and now, we've been announcing and waiting for them for two days,and we listen to them every day anyway, and we're always happy to see them. With us in Center's studio are Joker Out, or, well, two fifths of them. Nace and Jan, welcome!

Vesna: Good morning.

Jan: Greetings.

Melani: Good morning. I know that... well, thank you for taking the time, I know you've been "on the go" recently, literally. Where were you over the weekend? Most recently, or...

Nace: Go ahead, Jan.

Jan: Oh, thank you. Most recently, we were in Germany, at the Deichbrand Festival.

Melani: Was it good?

Jan: It was good. The only bad thing was that it took us 12 hours on the plane...

Melani: Oh, great.

Vesna: A ride.

Jan: In each direction.

Vesna: Yes, this European tour of yours is pretty varied. How many cities have you already done and how many are still ahead of you?

Melani: Is anyone keeping count?

Nace: Oh, you keep count. I know that we've done most European countries.

Melani: Okay.

Nace: Or, we will, what we haven't done yet, we will.

Melani: You will.

Vesna: Such sweet problems.

Melani: Yes, nice.

Vesna: How many cities you've already done, the best. Are you tired at all? What does it look like? Jan, you are now...

Nace: Do we look tired?

Vesna: Ah, Nace. Right, you're approaching the threshold of a new decade.

Melani: You've actually crossed it already, the first one.

Vesna: Ah, you already did. Oh, okay, I didn't know yet, okay, sorry.

Nace: No, I did.

Vesna: Well, but after sleeping in the tour busand on planes, does your back hurt already? Your lower back? Any issues yet?

Nace: Sleeping on the tour bus is betterthan sleeping at home.

Melani & Vesna: Really?

Vesna: Do you have a waterbed in there?

Nace: No, I don't know what happens, but when... Like, when you're tired after a gig and lie down in your bunk and the bus starts to move...

Melani: And you're there... A baby in a stroller.

Nace: As if someone were rocking you. Noise cancelling earphones, we've already learned that. And then you just fall asleep. We've also got used to it on planes, to... Earphones and that thing for the eyes...

Melani: I was just going to ask who snores the most on the tour bus.

Nace: No one.

Melani: No one? Or do you just not hear it because you have earphones?

Nace: I mean, no one from the band. Well, that too.

Melani: No one from the band.

Nace: No one from the band, but... Usually it's so that the band is on one side of the bus, and the crew is like... It just happens to be that way.

Melani: Fair, fair. Well, enough about tiredness, no rest for the brave, or however you say, you're here to tell us a little more about your new single 'Šta bih ja'.

Vesna: An awesome song.

Melani: Do tell us,you're leaning towards the microphone.

Nace: We have to speak close to the microphone.

Vesna: That's true.

Melani: Well, Bojan, the songwriter, is not here right now, for us to ask him who he can't do without in a black night, but okay. Tell us when this song was made, because people have been singing it for a while at gigs, right, but you only released it just over ten days ago.

Jan: Yes, um... That was actually the first song that we started working on in London, where we went in January. We went to London, among other things, with the intention to have maybe a more... cosmopolitan sound and... to perhaps get new experiences, and the first song that was made turned out to be the most nostalgically Balkan.

Melani: That's right.

Jan: So yeah, you have to go somewhere to start being aware of...

Melani: Your roots.

Jan: Exactly.

Melani: Nice, nice.

Vesna: The song is very ex-Yugo, just like you were in Sarajevo, maybe... looking for inspiration. But can we then expect more like that on the new album, any similar songs, or...?

Melani: Which languages are waiting for us and so on?

Nace: I mean, the album definitely has a common thread, and there will be at least three languages.

Melani: At least three, okay.

Nace: I mean, there will be three.

Melani: Okay, nice. And speaking of the new album, come on, we want to know all the details. When will we hear it, where will we hear it live, we already said three languages, spill the tea, everything you can.

Jan: You know what, I'd like to know that too.

Melani: Really? Who does know?

Jan: Honestly, no one really does right now, but in October, it'll be out in October. I can say that.

Melani & Vesna: Okay.

Melani: Okay, nice.

Vesna: Well, we will be back, because...

Jan: Or, in September.

Vesna: In September? Okay, that's very soon. Anyway, we'll be back exactly two hits later, because there were a lot of questions submitted for you.

Melani: On our Instagram, yup.

Vesna: Exactly. And we got calls as well, so we're looking forward to it, stay with us, it'll be a good time.

(music break)

Vesna: 'The Sound of Silence', good morning, you're at (Radio) Center.

Melani: Morning!

Vesna: We are Melani Mekicar and Vesna Ponorac here with you, and Jan and Nace from Joker Out are here as well. Good morning!

Melani: Morning.

Jan & Nace: Good morning.

Vesna: Well, we already spoke about the tour and the new song earlier, and now it's time for our listeners to get their turn.

Melani: Yes, if you only knew how many questions we got on our Instagram. Instagram exploded, as well as the calls, so let's start.

Vesna: Let's start with the calls.

Melani: Let's start with the calls.

Vesna: First up, a question from Mateja.

Caller: I really want to know how many girls from primary school write to you now? Like, female classmates, and maybe male classmates too, look, you never know.

Melani: Well?

Vesna: Well?

Jan: For a few years, I've been in contact with maybe...

Melani: Hey, you have to come closer, you know. Yes, yes.

Jan: For a few years, I've actually only been in contact with two female classmates.

Melani: Were you already in contact before?

Jan: Yes, regardless of the band, so...

Melani: They weren't like, "Oh, what's up, Jan?"

Vesna: Have any others piped up from before? No?

Jan: I mean, no, actually they haven't. Not much has changed, honestly.

Vesna: They don't dare to. Nace, is it any different for you?

Nace: A classmate called me if I could get her an autographed shirt.

Vesna: Your autograph or someone else's?

Nace: No, like for the whole band to sign.

Vesna: Ah, the whole band.

Nace: Everyone then always says, "Yes, you know, it's for my nephew."

Melani: Yes, the classic. For relatives.

Nace: "Which size? Ah, ah." It's always like that, always.

Vesna: Okay. The best. Great. The next question is from Petra.

Caller: Hi, boys. Going to Sziget, that is, well, how to say, an achievement, an achievement. I'd like to know if you're excited yet? And I'd like to know which other artists will you watch, listen to?

Melani: Sziget. Tell us.

Jan: Yes, we're very excited. This is... That was definitely one of our biggest goals, which... which didn't seem conceivable at all, years ago. But yes, this year we're on the main stage. I don't know if we will... Will we be able to watch anyone?

Melani: If you could.

Nace: Well, I hope so.

Melani: Who would you like to?

Nace: I don't know exactly who's on that day.

Melani: Who it is. But you'll watch someone for sure, if you have the chance, right.

Vesna: Well, you will hang out in the backstage, isn't that even better?

Melani: Yeah, they don't need to watch.

Vesna: You don't need to watch, man. You can watch from the back. Well, the next question is from Matej.

Caller: Hey. I'd like to know if you have any advice for young musicians who want to make it the way you did. Thank you for the answer!

Melani: Alright, music advice.

Nace: Music advice. Yeah...

Vesna: A little closer to the mic, Nace.

Nace: I will say it very close to the microphone. Just practise a lot, a lot, a lot, practise a lot, and practise a lot. What else do they need, to be persistent.

Vesna: What about the mindset?

Jan: And have a good mindset.

Nace: Yes.

Vesna: What does that mean, a good mindset?

Nace: Well, to have a good mindset while practising.

Vesna: To already imagine yourself at Sziget.

Melani: To not give up.

Vesna: Or?

Jan: Was that question for young musicians?

Vesna: Yes, yes.

Melani: Exactly, for those who want to... I mean, young, that's relative, but yes.

Vesna: But like, bands that are just forming and don't know what to do. What's your advice for them?

Jan: Have a charismatic and likeable frontman.

Melani: Bravo, bravo. Okay, we still have good number of questions on Instagram, which we will ask you after a few minutes, and yeah, that's it, speak to you later.

(music and news break)

Vesna: Good morning, you're listening to (Radio) Center, Vesna Ponorac in Melani Mekicar are here.

Melani: Hello.

Vesna: As well as Nace and Jan, two fifths of Joker Out. You submitted so many questions to our Instagram that the boys had to stay a little longer so we can answer everything, and let's go ahead and start.

Melani: Well, first up: what is the most Slovenian or Balkan thing that you like? Accordion, ajvar¹, I don't know.

¹Ajvar is a typical Balkan condiment made from roasted bell peppers.

Vesna: Prekmurska gibanica.²

²Prekmurska gibanica is a traditional Slovenian dessert from the Prekmurje region in the north-east of Slovenia. It's made from several layers of phyllo dough and cottage cheese filling, poppy seed filling, walnut filling and apple filling.

Jan: Clean air.

Melani: Clean a– oh, nice. Fair enough. Nace?

Nace: What do we have... No, I want to think of something that is... There must be something that, when we're out there...

Vesna: Idrija lace.

Nace: Idrija lace. I mean, we always have that with us, so I don't miss that.

Melani: Fair, fair. But like, that's a very Slovenian thing that you love a lot.

Nace: Yes, definitely.

Vesna: Exactly. That's it. Okay. Moving on, a big concert in Slovenia, when?

Melani: Again.

Jan: How big?

Vesna: Stožice big.

Melani: As big as possible.

Jan: Not this year.

Vesna: No?

Melani: Okay, but how about, let's say, something a little smaller than Stožice?

Jan: That's coming this year.

Melani: Coming this year. Okay, you heard it here. Okay, your favourite thing about each other. If you were all here right now, this would be even more fun, but alright.

Jan: What, my... Mine, about Nace?

Melani: Your favourite thing about Nace, it can be his personality, it can be that he has a really awesome hairdo, whatever, and vice versa.

Jan: Nace is a very considerate person. Like, if he feels that... that you're not feeling okay, even if you're feeling totally okay, he'll ask you and be like...

Vesna: "Are you good, man?" Awesome.

Jan: "Jan, are you okay? You don't look okay."

Vesna: Nice. What's your zodiac sign, Nace?

Nace: Cancer.

Vesna: Aw, of course.

Melani: Nice. That's a very nice trait. Nace, what about Jan?

Nace: Jan's guitar playing. I mean... I'm sorry, that's...

Melani: That's true.

Nace: When he grabs a gui– just yesterday, we were at the studio, and I didn't tell him this, but when he started messing around and making weird sounds with the guitar, I said... I'm glad he's my guitarist.

Vesna: How nice, man.

Melani: Come on, stop it. Very nice.

Vesna: What a cute moment.

Melani: Okay, let's move on from this cute stuff to problems for a bit. Someone wants to know what the biggest problem you face as famous musicians is?

Vesna: And young ones.

Melani: Yes. So, I don't know, is it that girls are running after you, I don't know, is it that you can't just publish everything on the internet anymore? What's the biggest, like...

Vesna: A long deliberation, but take your time.

Melani: Well, is everything nice?

Jan: At one point, I had a bit of an... internet overdose. So... ever since I've distanced myself from scrolling Twitter every hour, I've...

Melani & Vesna: You've been much better.

Jan: I've spared myself a lot, yeah.

Vesna: I'd say so.

Melani: Okay. Nace?

Nace: Shoot... I always... maybe it's not like that here, but when we're somewhere abroad, and fans gather around our bus that we travel with, sometimes, when you're tired and because you're in a hurry to move on, it's kind of hard to go past these fans without giving them any attention.

Vesna: Especially because you're a Cancer, and so thoughtful, you'd probably like to give everyone there attention. Well, nice. Okay, this is it, boys. Everyone go listen to Joker Out's new song, 'Šta bih ja'. Thank you for being our guests and may your keep being successful.

Jan: Thank you very much for inviting us.

Vesna: Yes, gladly. Bye bye!

The subtitles in the video have a few slight differences from this transcript; they spoke very fast, so some sacrifices had to be made for the subs.

[jasmine-does-wevertf-she-wants]

Thinking about LBH as the protagonist and his relationship to love and kindness. Because however you turn it Bingge hasn't experienced much of either. Ever since the death of his adoptive mother there has been nothing but abuse and then people using him for something, his power, his abilities, his status, sex, you name it.

Now, Bingge certainly is not white lotus LBH and has used his fair share of people in turn. But it's just striking how he has no one to offer him genuine kindness or really any personal relationship at all. This is of course narratively intended because airplane originally planned a tragic story of an abused orphan's rise to power to then stand isolated at the top etc. Him veering off into the papapapa territory to cater to fans of the stallion genre didn't change anything about the emotional tragedy of LBH although it provided a good enough smoke screen I'm sure most readers of pidw (SY included) didn't much consider LBH's emotional state. To be fair it's hard to care about the feelings of a demonic emperor who tortures rapes and pillages his way through world domination and destruction.

It's often said that MXTX's works highlight the importance of kindness in an unkind world and even though, it doesn't change the plot at the end it changes enough to remind us how important kindness is. I totally agree. But I think the flavor of kindness differs in each of her works and that is really interesting to me.

I'm mostly going off svsss and mdzs here because I know them best. In mdzs wwx is uniquely kind in his world in that he is unfailingly just. He remembers the good people have done to them and is prepared to let most wrongs go. He is deeply committed to repay the good done for him. He is loyal and doesn't hold grudges through bloodlines unlike most people in his world. He doesn't even hold a lot of grudges against many wrongs done to him personally. His kindness is all about justice.

That's not really relevant in svsss. Debts, grudges, favors, etc. play a rather small role. SY is kind to LBH ever since his transmigration, bordering on doting and spoiling once the ooc function is off. But still he would have caused the end of the world. Because he was kind to LBH but he didn't really treat him as a person. Once LBH comes back from the Abyss he treats him like he would Bingge and Bingge is not treated as a person. Which doesn't mean he's unkind to him! He's weary, he runs away a lot, he avoids LBH, he suspects him of nefarious actions and intentions but he doesn't fight him, curse him, try to stop him. On the contrary, he tries to ease LBH's ascension - with the caveat of trying to survive but still dying twice for LBH's sake. He cares enough for LBH that his doting for white lotus LBH shines through but he bounces back a lot to his expectation of Bingge. That is not objectively unkind treatment and no one in universe really faults SY for it. The divide between humans and demons is big enough that SY could have likely done most things to LBH once his heritage is revealed without being accused of any unkindness at all. It's also understandable for us readers. But it is not what LBH needs and it's also not the kind of treatment warranted based on their previous relationship. SY acts out of total disregard for LBH as a person and mostly from his expectations from Bingge the character. And while that may not be unkind behavior it's supremely damaging to LBH. To SY's credit he gets it very quickly when confronted with the consequences and never lapses again.

Justice, debts or loyalty are of no thematic importance in svsss. It's how the perception of a person may influence your treatment of such person and how, even if it's not even particularly bad treatment, can be so so damaging to that person. Svsss' brand of kindness is about perception, about, even if you think you have understood a situation really well, to give some grace to the people around you, to allow autonomy to other people, to stay curious, to not treat people as cut-out versions of your social expectations. To know - through all the posing we all do in society constantly - that we are all people underneath and have hidden depths and that makes it all the more interesting. It's not even only LBH, although his dichotomy between pidw and svsss is the most striking. It's SY himself who through all his peak lord poserdom and internet nerdiness discovers he's a deeply caring person who as a former straight man is in love with another man and enjoys sex with him and is a romantic (although he'd never voice this out loud). We see it in LQG who as a war god is mother henning his way to his crush, bringing him gifts, waging war over his corpse, cringing at the slightest mention of feelings. We see it in LMY who was supposed to be this ice cold otherworldly beauty and now spends her days writing rpf fanfiction about her brother's crush and his boyfriend, the demon lord, with the help of 3 nuns. We see it in MBJ who falls in love with a hamster of a cultivator. We see it in ZZL whose appearance is apparently so abhorrent to all races but has the most loyal sweetest heart. We see it in TLJ who was the final boss in pidw but was actually consumed and a victim to what he thought was unrequited love for humans. We see it in SXY who was introduced as the victim of violence to demons, then the cold-hearted double agent and then just a woman much in love and in defiance against her sect.

I just love how svsss took the opportunity to turn the assumptions of pidw on its head and how mxtx stays with her theme of kindness but gives it different brands. Kindness is kindness but it's not applied the same for all situations and svsss really demonstrates that. I just love svsss so much for all it says about personal relationships I want to cry.

[chikutoon]

Okay so I wanna see if I'm not alone in this opinion but do you find mugman in qftim as weird and lost potential. Let me explain (rant more like lol)

- Mugmans immatureness is overused. I get that he's supposed to be the light-hearted one but doesn't mean he has to be completely stupid

- The way Mugman tries to befriend Boris. I don't really have that many problems with them becoming friends and such but I feel like their dynamic should be balanced more as Mugman is still an adult while Boris is 12. Also the way Mugman was trying to manipulate Boris to become his friend in the hotel scene was really weird cause like Mugman is STILL a fricking adult.

(here are minor things/nitpicks)

- I hate how she draw his head. Him and Cup's head are different so them being similar does not look right to me. Then him having no hair also brothered me (as I personally draw him with hair) but that's more of a personal thing I suppose.

Overall I don't like how she handled his character. Like I wanna know if you agree (or disagree) with some of these things

One more thing it's off topic

I hated how the co-dependence between Bendy and Boris was never portrayed as a bad thing (well maybe she never had enough time to put that in but Idk)

Totally not alone in this, Mugman is one of the most fumbled characters in the whole story (imo), he gives off the vibe that you're just supposed to like him or ask *why* you should like him, you're just meant to agree to liking him, since "who would hate this baby sweetheart?", and it just made me hate him, lol!

Even in his first ever drawing on Rouge's page, she felt the need to make note that not only was he stupid, but that Cuphead was smarter. And that was always a weird thing to me, just felt like his role from the word "go" was to be useless.

And, I'm thankful I'm not the only one that found that friendship weird, I get it was meant to be cute, but the age gap and the manipulation was just the most off-putting thing. Cuphead even outright admitted to to trying to manipulate Bendy into friendship and he still somehow managed to manipulate him less than Mugman did with Boris.

As much as I love toxic characters, it doesn't seem like that was meant to be the goal with Mugman, and if it was the goal, it was done in such a way that it was just creepy. It wasn't fun to read when I was younger, and the older I get, the worse it seems.

And, as minor as it is, I think that's super fair to point out, I feel like she got better with it later in the comic but it was odd how he was drawn pretty much the same way as Cuphead. As for the hair, I'm sort of used to him without it now, but I can see why people would think it's odd that Cuphead has it and he doesn't.

For the ending point, yeah, it annoys me to no end that it wasn't portrayed as being bad in anyway, but most things relating to how Bendy was handled piss me off so it's no wonder. If it's relating to him, odds are, "he's done no wrong ever" and if someone else does the exact same thing, it's actually the worst thing that's ever happened. You can just smell the favouritism. 💔

(sorry that this one isn't as "this is how I'd fix it" as the others, I dunno how I'd fix Mugman, his whole thing is such a mess.)

[cryptids]

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I was just looking through those recently posted tf:one storyboards (crying sobbing throwing up about the megop rn) But I just have to say I do kind of wish they had kept this dialogue in the final movie, bc I've seen SO many people misunderstanding what Orion was trying to say in the scene where he's trying to stop D-16/Megatron from killing Sentinel, and I think this version phrases it better??

Like.... I can't even tell you how many people I've seen say that Orion was trying to protect Sentinel/sacrificing his life for Sentinel's, and then go on to accuse him of being everything from a "liberal" to a fascist apologist lmfao (🤡)

When to me it was clear he hated Sentinel and didn't give a fuck about whether this man lived or died, his concern was with trying to prevent his best friend and person he loves most in the world from committing a murder and going down a path that would turn him into the same kind of dictator.

imo, Orion was trying to say that they'd already won and killing Sentinel in this manner (a public execution without a trial) would set a harmful precedent for a new society. Which is true, what they'd be creating if they took Megatron's approach would be a society where order was maintained through fear and subjugation, and without any kind of fair justice system.

Killing Sentinel didn't achieve anything that would actually help anyone, bc like I already mentioned, they'd already won by then. They liberated the oppressed population and took Sentinel's power away, he no longer posed any threat. Megatron’s only motivation was revenge and he was making decisions out of anger and grief rather than thinking about what was best for everyone. He took the decision of what to do with Sentinel away from the people by taking it into his own hands without letting them have an opinion.

(Before anyone comes at me, I know the desire for revenge is understandable and justified, which is why we're able to empathise with him so much. But that doesn't mean it's always the right choice in every circumstance, especially for someone stepping into a position of power)

I think the line that really got people mixed up was Orion saying "don't be like Sentinel", bc people are so used to the "killing the villain makes you as bad as the villain" sentiment in every movie ever that they automatically assumed this movie was saying the same thing. But when you stop to take the context into consideration it would make a lot more sense if he meant "don't be the same kind of leader as Sentinel", which IS what he meant, it's just worded badly.

And it's the truth too?? we all know Megatron will become a genocidal dictator who will carry out so much of the same kind of oppression he originally fought against, that's like his whole tragedy as a villain. There's so many little ways tf:one shows us this happening at the end (like him branding the decepticons the way he was branded for example).

But anyway......... as much as I wish media didnt have to spoonfeed audiences so much, I think if Orion's argument had been spelled out a bit more unambiguously like this it might have spared me having to see so many bad takes online lmao 😭

Now that I'm done rambling about all of that please look at this wattpad boyfriend chest touch moment

[tfemluna]

i was rewatching stuff and it got me thinking of the saturn's moons episode ;_; i need to yap so long post incoming. apologies in advanced o7

i feel like this fandom has a tendency to switch up/see things in black and white a lot (very noticeable in the moon club episodes -- which i'll talk about eventually) because the amount of backlash the saturnian moons got whilst Saturn got cradled like a baby. Hm. It's just puzzling to me.

I like both the moons AND Saturn so it was hard to like... dislike either of them? Both of them are doing hurtful things to each other. I don't like when people use the excuse of "he has 146 moons! how could he possibly remember that many!" which, to a degree is fair, but you also have to think about the fact that Saturn has had billions of years to at least memorize his main 7 moons. It's the least he could've done if he cares for them as much as he claims. It's obvious he has clear favoritism and people tend to gloss over that when bashing the other saturnian moons when they get reasonably upset? Saturn is not innocent (in more ways than one), and that's okay. You can still feel bad for him without failing to acknowledge he isn't perfect either.

Not saying the moons are innocent either. They were desperate and rushing the whole ordeal. It's obvious they already have resentment towards Saturn and they honestly could've done that out of desperation and frustration just to get him to listen. The saturnian moons are mean, yeah. (With the exception of Rhea, Tethys and debatably Titan) And I definitely think they should've given Saturn some breathing room but I also don't like... blame them for being as upset as they were? They've been basically neglected/overshadowed for billions of years. I'd be pretty pissed too!

Their relationship with their parent planet is complicated, messy and dysfunctional -- and both sides are flawed, but neither are more bad than the other methinks. When the episode initially released the amount of hate the moons got and babying for Saturn just irked me. While I felt bad for Saturn I could see why the moons were upset but to me I just don't think people got that >_>

Don't get me wrong I love Saturn but he's not perfect and I LOVE that for him. He's a sweetheart but ultimately flawed and his clear favoritism and overall denseness is so good... I cannot wait to see him more of him in the upcoming arcs bcuz you KNOW what's being built up and ugh. so excited I hope he's fucked up even more