#like I fell off of it after s3 and fell off HARD

[reikunrei]

this is a cold ass take but not one I’ve seen around in my online circles, but the scooby-doo reboot has me thinking about how like. I feel like a big part of why it feels like fandom doesn’t last as long anymore is that we’re just constantly getting reboots and sequels of the same 3 things over and over.

and you’d think, wouldn’t that make the fandom last longer? and sure…. for those same 3 things. but like. it makes me think that a vast majority of people look at media and go “if it’s not actively putting out content, then it’s dead” when for so long, fandom around stuff would last for DECADES after a series had ended.

like, nobody lets anything sit and breathe anymore. and it’s exhausting.

and I get that the reason WHY we keep getting reboots and sequels is bc execs are scared to put money into anything new when this old title would immediately have a payoff bc it’s familiar to people. but that doesn’t make it any less depressing. in fact, it makes it MORE depressing, but nobody needs me to explain why.

I just wish people would stop beating dead horses. it’s not worth it, because it will so easily become forgettable when you just keep rehashing the same things, same settings, same characters over and over.

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

Summary ➳ Daryl allows himself to become vulnerable with you.

(A/n) ➳ This is my first take for writing S2 Daryl, feedback is definitely appreciated and needed!! I just started S3 but already know about spoilers so it’s cool! Also, thanks to @celtic-crossbow for the tips!!

Word Count ➳ 790

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, Season 2 Daryl/OOC Daryl, sexual content, penetration, unprotected sex, riding, foreplay but no prep, Angst?-to-fluff… Let me know if I missed anything!

You could always tell how Daryl was feeling by his eyes. How they shifted around the room whenever he felt annoyed or tense, how his eyes slightly relaxed when he was doing something he enjoyed. He wasn’t an open book, he was a closed person and a person who was difficult to understand.

But under his usual demeanor, he could be vulnerable if he’s given the chance. But that’s a blue moon, a rarity. You’d never ask him for more, Daryl is enough in your eyes.

Daryl had you pushed against the tree trunk, his crossbow on the ground, resting next to your gun. His hands slipped under your shirt, unclipping your bra to take it and your shirt off. Your hands remain on his shoulders, avoiding his back and spots that you know he doesn’t like you touching.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, wrapping your legs around his waist. The two of you continued to kiss as he carefully laid you down on the cold grass. Daryl pulled back only to unbutton your pants, desperately ripping them off along with your underwear.

He hovered over you, you could see that familiar look in his eyes… His vulnerability. You could see him swallow in nervousness.

He stood to his feet, his hands reaching for the edges of his shirt, and stripped himself, one by one. Articles of clothing fell to the floor. He watched you closely for a reaction. For the slightest signs of disgust or discomfort.

But he didn’t see it. You had yourself propped up on your elbows, you watched him with adoration. His face didn’t show how anxious he felt. He looked composed.

Once Daryl finished, he stood in front of you, completely nude. He could feel your eyes on him.

You stretched out your hand for him to take. With a smile and your eyes watering. “Come here.” You uttered.

Daryl took your hand, squeezing it as he came down back to you. He kissed you again, and your other hand found his hair, giving it light tugs.

His other hand grabbed his cock, guiding himself to your hole. He gave himself a few seconds before he pushed himself in bit by bit.

Your eyes tightly shut as your mouth opened, letting out an airy moan. Once he was completely in, Daryl thrust, keeping himself at the perfect pace. Not too hard or fast.

You felt full, biting back moans as you felt him moving inside of you. He stared down at you, clouded and intoxicating he was to look at.

You threw your head back, your other hand moving from his hair and to his shoulders, nearly touching his back. But you weren’t going to push. Not ever.

He kept a tight grip on your hand, refusing to let go. Even when you managed to roll on top of him, he lay flat on the ground. His free hand gripped your hip tightly so that you were sure that he would leave a bruise.

Daryl breathed heavily as he felt you rocking your hips back and forth, you honestly tried to be quiet. But with his cock kept hitting your spot, it was difficult to do so. You were drunk on the feeling since it felt so different than before.

It was usually a quick and hard fuck with Daryl but he took care of you after. But he seemed to be taking his time with you, savoring the feeling as well.

The feeling of your cunt was almost hard to believe, you squeezed around him.

He sat up, kissing you once more. You didn’t stop bouncing on his cock, you quickened your pace as you felt the feeling pool in your stomach.

Daryl could feel it too, shoving his head in the crook of your neck. Even when you felt the hot liquid spill into your cunt, even when you stopped moving, Daryl didn’t stop. He quickened his pace.

His eyes remained shut as he choked on his moans. His face was flushed, as well as the tip of his ears.

Your hand tapped his shoulder. “Daryl, Daryl…” You said in between gasps and moans. “It’s alright.”

Daryl’s movements halted and he just laid his head on your shoulder. His breathing was rugged, he shook in your grasp.

“Can you look at me?” You panted.

He lifted his head, his lips slightly parted. There was no need to say anything, you pressed his forehead against his.

“It doesn’t matter where I am, I’ll always be with you.”

Daryl made a vow, he was going to do everything to keep you protected. If his hold on your hand couldn’t get any tighter, it would. And refuses to ever let you go.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

…Feedback, please. I’m seriously begging you all.

[kennahjune]

Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

“I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

[farfromstrange]

Weed Cookies | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 3 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Karen receives a box of cookies from one of their clients. Foggy and Matt take a bite. Even with his heightened senses though, Matt doesn't realize what's wrong with the cookies before he's absolutely wasted, and you have to babysit him. Yes, they were edibles.

Warnings: Fluff, faint hints at S3 depressed!Matt and suicidal ideations, attempt at humor, crack fic, accidental drug use, for the sake of this fic we are going to pretend that the edibles were made well enough for Mister I-Know-Everything to miss it

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I wrote this after watching the episode of Grey's Anatomy with the Weed Cookies. I took some behaviorisms from my own experiences and exaggerated them a little to fit the vibe of this fic. I scraped parts of this and once again adjusted them because this was even more poorly written before than it is now, and I added the Nelson, Murdock & Page Season 3 narrative again because that's now the running theme of this event. Anyway, if you choose to consume edibles, stay safe! (Also, I'm just copying and pasting my usual tag lists. if anyone wants to be added for this event, do let me know)

“We just got cookies from Ms. Lebowsky next door,” Karen announces happily when she enters the office, balancing the transparent Tupperware in one hand and her handbag in the other. 

“She told me to thank you for helping her get out of that hellhole,” she says. Her eyes crinkle in the corners as a mischievous grin takes over her face. “There’s plenty for all four of us. Although she did mention Matt a few more times.”

“Ms. Lebowsky?” Foggy asks. He stands in the doorway of his office, holding a freshly brewed coffee. “Isn’t she the elderly lady we helped last week?”

“Yeah, that’s her. I think she has a crush on Matt.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Of course, she does. Who doesn’t? Not that I do, but—well, you get the gist.” The blood rushes to his cheeks, and Karen giggles in response.

From the office on the left, Matt’s voice rings out, “We just did our jobs,” he says. “She made us cookies, dude!” Foggy inspects the box on Karen’s desk. “They’re chocolate chip cookies. Our favorite. See what good looks can buy you?”

Matt chuckles, his fingers tracing the Braille indentations in the documents that are starting to form a mountain before him. “I think we got them because we’re good lawyers, Foggy.”

“Yeah, right. No way! That woman was smitten the second she came in. I really gotta get that blind thing going. I mean, she’s way too old for you, but come on! You’re in a serious committed relationship, and women still come piling at your door. It’s not fair.”

The way he whines like a little kid who has just been denied his favorite candy makes Karen laugh at his antics, and even Matt can’t help but join in. No matter how stressed he is, and how badly he wants to focus, Foggy never fails to lighten the mood.

Ever since moving offices, things have been going well for the trio. 

When Matt met you, he was at his lowest. You helped him climb out of a dark hole that was threatening to swallow him whole after losing Elektra and almost losing everything he worked so hard for to Wilson Fisk. Thanks to you, he found the will to fight again. You brought him back to life.

He wanted to die. He hated himself for the longest time after the building collapsed and forever took the first woman he ever loved down with its ruins, but then you came into his life, and you didn’t care about his baggage. You were far too good for him, but that didn’t matter to you. 

He fell for you hard and fast, and maybe the timing was a little off because what he needed was therapy and not someone new to get attached to. Still, if you hadn’t pulled him back to his feet and encouraged him to fight back against Fisk, saving his friendship with the people he cares most about in the process, he would have never made it far enough to get therapy.

Matt trusts you with his life because he feels like he owes it to you, but he also loves you more than anything. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to him. You’re his soulmate, and he couldn’t be happier.

Nelson & Murdock added Karen to their permanent repertoire. With her, things are flowing much more smoothly, and they’re actually making money now. They’re expensive, as Foggy likes to say it. Matt’s friends are just as happy as he is, giving him hope for the future.

“Hey,” Foggy snaps him out of his trance, “Earth to Murdock.”

Matt blinks behind his glasses, his fingers halting their frantic movements along the paper. “While I don’t disagree with what you’re saying,” he says, “please don’t let my girlfriend hear you say that women are piling at my door.”

Karen snorts. “Trust me, Matt. She knows,” she says.

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t remind her of that.”

“My lips are sealed. Foggy?”

He sighs, once again dramatically. “As long as you don’t sleep with them, you have nothing to fear, my friend.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” says Matt. “The one I’m sleeping with is incomparable.”

Foggy grimaces. “Oh, dude. Gross! You know, God made conscious thought as a mechanism for humans to know when to shut up.”

“To be fair, ninety percent of the population don’t know how to use that mechanism,” Karen jumps to Matt’s defense.

As he laughs, he takes a whiff of the air surrounding their new baked goods. Matt can smell the sweet chocolate of the cookies, and somewhat of a herbal essence, but he can’t quite pinpoint why the scent seems so familiar. 

Karen walks around her desk to drop her bag and her coat. “So, do guys want a cookie?” she asks, swiftly changing the subject.

“I’ll take one,” Foggy is quick to answer.

Matt nods from his desk. “I’ll try one, too.”

The innocent decision to indulge in a sweet treat soon comes back to bite them in the ass though. Heavily.

When Matt first bit into the cookie, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. It tasted like chocolate mixed with basil, sugar, honey, and the kind of flour Ms. Lebowsky used, but he didn’t find much else wrong with it. Perhaps if he hadn’t allowed himself to get distracted by his phone calling out your name and the sweetest text he could have possibly received this early in the morning from the love of his life, he would have noticed that something tasted off about these cookies. And that what he believed to have been basil as a secret ingredient was something else entirely.

When lunchtime finally rolls around, you drop everything you were doing before and make your way to Matt’s office. You always spend lunch together. It’s your favorite time of the day. For an hour, you can forget the stress of your workplace and focus on him. He’s your safe haven. Your home. You crave to memorize his features anew every day so that you will have something to carry around with you when he has to work a bit longer, or when he goes out at night and his Daredevil duties drag on beyond what he planned. 

You need to be with him as much as possible because you’re scared that your happiness will shatter on a white cloth, and you will be forced to move on—you can’t imagine losing him. You dedicated your life to loving him, and the thought of ever losing that privilege kills you. 

On your way out, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You smile, thinking that it’s Matt, but when Karen’s number pops up on your screen, you frown. 

‘We have a problem,’ she texted you. Without context. 

All the alarms in your head start blaring, and you start to walk a little faster. You start imagining all possible scenarios. When you ask Karen what’s going on, she doesn’t even reply. What if someone got hurt? What if something happened to Matt? You almost lost him once; you can’t go through that again. 

You burst into the new office space that your friends share a few minutes later, your chest heaving and sweat dripping down your pulsating temples. You’re ready to fight whoever dared to hurt the man you love, or possibly threaten your friends, or both, but when you look up and see your darling boyfriend with his cheek pressed against one of the leaves on their gigantic office plant as if the overgrown Calathea were the coziest pillow he has ever touched, you understand why Karen texted you that you—both you and her—have a problem. A big one, too, judging by the looks of it.

“What is going on here?” you ask the dreaded question, shutting the door behind you.

Only then do you notice Karen to your right in Foggy’s office, trying to get him off of his office chair. He’s belting the chorus of Defying Gravity at the top of his lungs, and he’s got a broom clutched tightly in his right hand.

Oh boy. Your wide eyes drift to Karen’s desk in the middle of the room. As soon as you see the chocolate cookies inside the Tupperware, it slowly begins to dawn on you.

You’re not sure which is worse: Matt cradling a houseplant with his glasses discarded and the first three buttons of his dress shirt undone as he’s coated in sweat, or Foggy singing one of Broadway’s greatest ballads so off-key that the Calathea is starting to wither.

It takes Matt much longer than usual to sense your presence in the room. He calls your name, and his lips curl into a bright grin. Even completely out of it, he looks like an angel on earth. 

“Matthew,” you say. You approach him like you would approach a little kid. He’s on his knees, so the analogy isn’t far off. 

“Hi, honey. What’s going on?”

“Sweetheart,” he greets you, and you have never heard this man sound so relaxed. His hazel eyes are red-rimmed and glazed over, but the most obvious change lies in his behavior. 

“Feel that.” He reaches for your hand when you’re close enough for him to smell you, but he misses. “Where are you?” Matt pouts. “I can’t see.”

You want to laugh, but this is not the time. “You are blind, baby,” you remind him. 

“Since when?”

“Over twenty years.”

“Oh.” He finally gets a hold of your hand. The conversation seems to go right over his head. “Feel the power of nature,” he tells you. “It’s so soft.”

You want to drag him away from the potentially dangerous plant if he decides to eat it, but the sight of him is one to behold. He looks downright adorable. 

You have to focus though. You gently pat his hand. “Maybe later,” you say, and then you make your way to Karen’s desk to inspect the cookies.

Behind you, she calls your name. You twirl around. From the looks of it, she managed to get Foggy down from his chair, but he remains singing at the top of his lungs. All the signs point to one thing, and one thing only.

“Did you give my boyfriend weed cookies?” you sound a lot more condescending than you planned to. 

Karen shakes her head. Her face is pale, and she looks just as panicked as you do. “Those are not mine,” she says. 

“But you knew they were edibles?!”

“Of course, I didn’t! I started questioning it when Matt started cuddling the plant because his Braille felt like boobs and he didn't want to cheat on you, so he decided that he needed to touch some grass.” She points to him, exasperated. As if on cue, Matt lets out a happy little sigh.

Your brain struggles to process all of the information at once. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He said that his Braille feels like boobs. I don’t know! I thought he was messing with me until Foggy turned into Elphaba, and that’s when I took a bite and realized there was weed in them,” she says.

You groan, your worried eyes momentarily flicking back to your high boyfriend. High. That’s not a word you thought you would ever associate with him. “How did this happen?” you ask.

“Ms. Lebowsky, the lady next door, we helped her out the other day, and this morning, she gave me these cookies. I called her when these two started acting like idiots—more than usual, anyway. Turns out, she confused them with the ones her niece made for her birthday party tomorrow.”

“Her niece made edibles for her birthday party?”

“Please, don’t ask. I don’t have all the details. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you cut her off. “Just tell me that you’ve got Foggy under control.”

Karen peeks in through the window to his office. “More or less, yeah. You’ve got Matt?”

“Yeah, I’ve got him.”

You have to take care of him. He’s your responsibility. But as calm as he is right now, his heightened senses make the situation a lot more complex than the mere accidental consumption of edibles.

Walking over to him, you try to haul him up. He protests, at first, but then he feels the fabric of your shirt, and he slacks.

Matt wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your neck. “You’re so soft,” he coos. “You smell like honey.”

With his entire weight on you, you have to widen your stance so you won’t fall over. His usually quick reflexes are nonexistent right now; he won’t be able to catch you if you trip, and then you’re both going to get hurt.

“You know what’s even softer?” you ask.

“The plant,” he answers confidently. He sounds like a more careless version of himself. You can’t deny that it does something to you.

“No, silly,” you chuckle softly, “I meant your bed.”

“Oh. But I’m not tired.”

“You’re high.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” You stroke his back. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.”

He stiffens and relaxes at the same time. You swear you can feel the electricity in his veins as his nerves respond to the feeling of your skin on his. It’s like he’s on fire. Like your touch feels a million times more intense, and he’s being crushed under the weight of it in a way that makes him crave more. 

He squeezes you tighter, trying to get swallowed by you, consumed to the point that you are the same person. The drugs are doing a number on him, and his already heightened sense of feeling has increased tenfold to the point you’re not sure if it’s pleasurable or painful or both. It must be agonizing, yet at the same time there is a high chance that the weed is calming his nerves and dampening his perception to the point he’s taking everything in without the added weight—he’s enjoying the newfound sensations in limbo, and he’s unaffected by it. You wonder how long that is going to last. 

After bidding farewell to Karen, wishing her good luck with Foggy who has now reached a point of his high where he’s lying on the floor, demanding to listen to Bohemian Rhapsody and cry over Freddie Mercury. She assures you that she has got it under control, apologizes again, and then sends you on your way.

“Bye, Karen,” Matt says. “You have very nice hair.” His hand tangles in yours, and his face lights up like a Christmas Tree. You managed to convince him to put his glasses on, at least, or he might get irritated. “Never mind,” his voice turns into a pur. 

Usually, you would shiver at his fingers in your hair, tracing the strands and sensually massaging your scalp only he knows how to, but today is not one of those days. You’re still concerned about the effects that the weed might have on him, so you want to be careful, although you’re not sure how much longer you can keep yourself from laughing. 

As you maneuver Matt through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, his cane hovers above the ground and his arm is hooked around yours. Without you, he would have run off into traffic by now. He has absolutely no spatial awareness anymore. 

Every sound, scent, and texture seems to capture his attention, but there's one sensation in particular that he can't seem to shake: thirst. You’re not even home yet, and you had to stop by a convenience store to get him a bottle of water. He shed his coat, which you are now carrying for him while also guiding him while simultaneously trying not to attract any unwanted attention. 

You can’t help but look at him as though he is your whole world. He is. He is everything to you, even high on edibles he never meant to consume, and acting like a feral toddler. If anything, you are even prouder now that he is yours. 

“Hey,” he whispers, leaning close to you, “do you think fire hydrants taste like licorice?”

You shake your head. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Matt, don’t lick the fire hydrant.” 

He pouts. For a moment, you think that you have steered off any possible disaster, but that was only wishful thinking.

Matt’s curiosity knows no bounds, and he’s soon reaching out to touch anything that catches his eye. He runs his fingers along the rough brick foundation of a building, marveling at the texture, and he stops to sniff a flower, declaring, “This is the most beautiful flower I have ever smelled.”

You pluck it for him, and he carries it in the pocket of his coat with a happy smile. 

You’re both exhausted when you finally make it to his apartment. Getting his large frame through the door is one thing, stopping him from tearing the tap off the sink as he desperately searches for liquid with the words, “Water!” is another.

“Okay, okay,” you try to calm him. You grab a bottle from the fridge, open it for him, and force him to take it. “Drink.”

One touch is enough for him to drop it. “It’s cold,” he recoils in agony.

You sigh. “Tap water it is, then.”

You have never seen him down so many glasses of water. He is severely dehydrated and sensitive to changes in temperature. It’s either too hot or too cold, and you’re so glad that Karen texted you when she did.

You manage to get him to the couch with some snacks that he devours within seconds. If he moves one more inch today, you may not be able to catch him again.

His lip twitches. “Chickens don’t have any arms.”

You pause in the process of wrapping him in a blanket, staring blankly ahead at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.

“Chickens don’t have any arms,” Matt states. “Every American citizen has the right to bear arms under the second amendment in the constitution. If an egg was fertilized on US soil, and the chicken hatched there as well, technically, that makes them a citizen of the United States of America, therefore allowing tiny creatures without arms the right to bear arms, but who gives the bears their arms?” 

You’re so flabbergasted that the absurdity of the situation eludes you. The words process only slowly in your mind, and when they do, they cause a wave of confusion to wash over you before it turns into genuine amusement, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from laughing at him.

You can pinpoint the exact second the thought escapes his mind and something else replaces it. His hand brushes over the leather couch. “Smooth,” he observes. You haven’t even fully processed his very philosophical question about the animal kingdom before he drops his cheek down on the couch.

The man who has been carrying the weight of the world in bricks on his back for years is finally relaxed; it shouldn’t leave such a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

You kneel in front of him, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Do you need anything?” you ask.

Matt’s gaze is filled with an odd sort of clarity. “Nah. Just you,” he mumbles.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you brush a sweaty strand of hair away from his forehead. "I'm right here," you reassure him. 

He nods, his eyelids drooping as the effects of the edibles start to take their toll. “Good.” He searches for your hand, and you help him intertwine your fingers. A giddy smile finds its way onto his face. “You’re warm.”

You lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “And you’re high,” you tease.

Matt huffs out a breathy laugh. “Mmh, yeah,” he says. “But it’s okay. ‘Cause you’re here.”

Despite the chaos and the unexpected turn of events, there’s a sense of contentment settling over you as you watch him drift off into a state of bliss. He deserves it more than anyone. 

You stay by his side, watching over him as he succumbs to the pull of sleep that you’re all too familiar with after a sudden high. 

“Note to self,” you say to yourself, “never eat a stranger’s cookies without drug testing them first.”

And love has funny ways of making even the most absurd moments feel strangely beautiful.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @littlenerdyravenclaw @yarrystyleeza @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @thatonegamefish @norestfortheshelbywicked @mattkinsella @itwasthereaminuteago @linamarr @gpenguin666 @acharliecoxedfan

[green-alm0nd]

[Crosshair x gn!reader]: Just breathe

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Summary:

In which Crosshair fails Omega, missing the shot that took her away from Pabu and back to Tantiss. He feels guilty, and angry at himself. Luckily, you're always there for him.

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FOR TBB S3 E11, swearing, angst, panic attacks, breakdowns, comfort, reader being Crosshair's shoulder to rely on. Kinda short but there's comfort in the end.

Enjoy!

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The waves on the shore of Pabu always brought a sense of comfort to the townspeople.

To Crosshair, however, brought a sense of dread when he saw his locator fall to the enraged water below the island.

It had been his hand. His damn hand.

He suddenly felt cold, a shiver running through his spine. He had failed, and a sense of guilt, dread and disappointment ran through his body, from head to toe.

His hand started shaking uncontrollably, and he gripped it tightly in order to make it stop. But he couldn't.

His heartbeat quickened, and found it hard to breathe. He took his helmet off, his fingers gripping the stone of the rock fence.

"Cross! Cross! Are you okay?!"

His eyes widened, he did not want to deal with you now. Not because you were too bubbly for him at that moment, but he didn't want you to see him so insecure.

He started breathing heavily, and clenched his chest with one hand while his other hand was placed between you both.

"Get- away from me."

You frowned.

"Cross..." You whispered, very slowly getting closer. You took very small steps, trying to ignore the fact that the Imperial ship was leaving the now partially destroyed island of Pabu. Eventually, you reached a point where his palm was stopping you from helping your boyfriend.

"Can I touch you?" You asked, keeping your calm.

Crosshair continued hyperventilating, and he let out the smallest nod he ever gave you. To this, you grabbed both his hands and started rubbing circles around them.

"Crosshair. Look at me"

He didn't raise his head. He was terrified of what you would think when you saw he was weak.

"Crosshair." You said, slowly bringing your fingers to his chin, lifting his face up.

His eyes filled with tears, and he started breaking down while his breathing only got faster, and worse. He didn't know how to stop it.

You placed your hand on his heart.

"Breath with me, Cross. Inhale," You started, inhaling a big chunk of air. Crosshair did so, but it wasn't as long and as slow. It's seemed like he was trying his best, though. "...And exhale."

You let all the air out, staring at him.

"Let's go again. Inhale... exhale. Inhale...exhale..."

Slowly but surely, Crosshair's breathing slowed down. Until, he just looked at you in a numb way. Almost as if he was too tired to show his feelings.

Eventually, he looked down, and decided to speak.

"I failed. The shot."

You raised an eyebrow.

"What shot?" You asked.

"Omega. She got captured and expected me to shoot a tracker on the ship. But it fell to the water, because of my hand." He replied, growling at the last part.

Your eyes widened.

"Omega...?" You asked. "How?"

Crosshair sighed.

"She didn't want the people suffer more than they already have." He explained, curtly.

You covered your mouth with your hand. That was the worst thing you wanted to hear after your boyfriend missing a shot.

You tried to see the 'bigger picture', though there was no bigger picture in that situation.

You looked at him.

"We'll...figure something out, I promise. Let's focus on what to tell Hunter."

Crosshair nodded.

Moments like this, when he was lost in the darkness, he'd let you physically get closer to him. He was not one to really like physical touch, but more fond of gift giving. Still, he let you hug him this time. You wrapped your arms around the tall, slim figure that was trembling. For a snarky man like Crosshair, it scared you a bit to see him like this.

He looked helpless, unprotected, defenceless, even.

You shook your thoughts away, and tried to focus on the moment in the middle of the aftermath of the battle.

After you pulled away, you kissed Crosshair's shoulder.

"We'll figure something out. I promise."

----

Some comfort before The Bad Batch ep 15 comes out!

Reblogs and shares are highly appreciated!

My requests are still open :p

[livingdeadblondequeen]

Heated Push

This is the first of a two-part with Daryl/Reader in an ABO universe. Set between S3 & 4; Smut

Chapped lips pressing firmly against yours

Hard muscle smashed against your soft breasts

Warm callused hands running up your inner thighs, spreading them apart

Y/N bolted awake, panting and taking in her surroundings. She was alone in her cell at the prison. It was a dream, yet so much more than a dream. Her body felt hot, her skin sensitive against the bedding, and she was throbbing between her legs. It had been a while since it had happened, but Y/N knew what this meant. “Fuck.”

Throwing off the sheets that were twisted around her body, Y/N swung her legs to the edge of her bunk and got up, throwing on some loose clothes as she did before poking her head around the sheet she used as a door. Typically, she would have just bolted through the opening into the public area but with the pheromones she knew she was putting out, it wasn’t the best idea if she didn’t want a bunch of alphas pouncing on her. No, there was only one alpha that she wanted in particular at the moment or at any time.

Spotting Maggie not far away with Beth and her father, Y/N frantically waved the brunette over. Confusion masked her face until she was within a couple of feet of Y/N and picked up her scent. “Whoa.”

“Tell me about it.” Y/N huffed as she pulled the other woman into her cell for privacy. “I woke up like this.”

“No warning?”

“None,” She replied. Y/N hadn’t had a heat since a month before the world went to hell and the dead rose thanks to the suppressants they had found then the malnutrition from the rough winter they had after the farm fell. Now it seemed her first one after a couple of months of safety and eating well, her cycle had returned with a vengeance. Thankfully, she hadn’t woken up in a full-blown heat, but she wasn’t too far off either. “I need your help.”

Maggie’s eyes widened. “My help?”

“Not like that!” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re beautiful and sexy but…”

“I’m with Glen and I’m not the alpha we both know you want,” Maggie said with a devious smile. “Speaking of Daryl, do you want me to get him?”

“He’s on a run. But I need you to get Carol and help me to one of the heat cells.” Y/N answered as she chewed on her lip, trying not to let the small moan that suddenly bubbled up in her throat as her core clenched at the mention of the Alpha that the omega inside her desperately wanted. 

Her relationship with the bowman was complicated. They had met in the beginning when the Dixon brothers had joined the group in the quarry. Both alphas, especially Merle with all of his crude talk, had been a bit rough and scary at first. Yet they settled into the camp and started helping the group by hunting for food. 

Y/N had felt herself drawn to Daryl, her eyes following him when he wasn’t looking and a few times when she wasn’t watching him, she’d look up and catch him looking at her. Yet he hardly ever approached her, if she wanted to talk to him, Y/N was the one who would have to engage. The first time she did, she picked up his scent; a mixture of the woods, grease, with a hint of smoke. She had a feeling that the last part was due to his cigarette habit, but she didn’t care, the omega in her wanted to roll around in the scent of him. Thankfully Y/N was still on suppressants at the time or she might have done just that though it didn’t keep her from seeking him out.

After Merle disappeared and the camp fell which led them to head to the CDC, Y/N was trying to figure out who she was going to ride with when Daryl came up behind her. He let her know that there was an empty spot in his truck if she wanted to take it. He chewed on his thumbnail as he waited for her answer, and for a moment it was hard for her to remember she once thought he was an intimidating alpha. She nodded quickly before yelling over her shoulder to the others that she would be riding with Daryl. 

It was during that trip that Y/N realized how touch-starved Daryl was. Right after they had said their goodbyes to Jim, she had told Daryl that she was sorry about his brother, reaching out to squeeze the hand not on the steering wheel and saw him jump at the contact. As long as it wasn’t wanted, Alphas and omegas appreciated casual touches, but Daryl’s reaction told her that he wasn’t used to them. As they continued to drive, Y/N ran over the time she’d been around Daryl in her mind. She couldn’t remember one time where someone touched Daryl or he touched them in a kind way. She had seen Merle punch him in his arm or shove him on occasion, and then later there was the fight between Daryl, Shane, and Rick. Those instances coupled with the scars she had seen peeking out of Daryl’s shirt told her a lot, no wonder he had so much anger. 

After that, Y/N made sure that she did what she could to help Daryl. She would sit as close as she could when they would eat meals first at the CDC, then at the farm, brushing her leg or arm against his as they ate. She also offered small touches, not too much to help soothe him as they would sit and talk at the end of the day, him telling her about the search for Sophia and later at his bedside after he had been hurt. When they found out the little girl had been in the barn the whole time, Y/N had given him a hug, only to have him shove her off of him and stomping away.  

Y/N had gotten separated from the group when the herd came through the farm, but thankfully she was able to stumble her way to the highway and found herself engulfed in Daryl’s arms when the group spotted her. He mumbled an apology into her hair as he held her, saying he thought they had lost her. 

After that, when they were on the road, the two of them were always together unless Daryl was hunting, though things remained platonic between them, even with them sleeping next to each other at night. It wasn’t until he had returned after leaving with Merle that he finally admitted that he wanted her as more; he wanted her to be his. They had been ‘together’ ever since but had not had sex nor were they bonded yet. First the Governor, then building the community within the prison had taken precedence. Y/N wished he were there now though because with her heat she knew that both of those things would be happening. 

Maggie nodded in understanding before she disappeared back out of the cell. Knowing she had gone to look for Carol, Y/N grabbed a few things she would need for her heat. Her pillows, her few blankets, her water bottle, and a shirt she had hidden away, not much for an ideal nest but better than a bare floor or bunk.

“Y/N?” Carol called to her from outside her cell door.

Y/N shoved the privacy curtain to the side, coming face to face with the older Omega and she saw sympathy in her eyes. Carol wrapped her arm around Y/N’s shoulders, directing her out of the cell block. “Oh sweetheart, let’s get you out of here and away from everyone.”

Y/N nodded as she let Carol and Maggie lead her out of Cell Block C and to the Administration building. One of the things the group had done when making the Prison their home was to turn the old intake cells in the Administration building into makeshift nests for the few omegas when needed. It allowed for the omegas and their Alphas or, like Y/N, a single omega, to have some privacy during their heats, safely away from the others.

After getting her settled, Carol hugged Y/N one last time. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Daryl,” Y/N replied. Carol’s brows shot up in surprise, but Y/N quickly continued. “He is on that run for a few days, can you tell him what is going on when he gets back? I don’t want him to worry.”

“He’ll do that no matter what when he doesn’t see you, but I will make sure to head him off as soon as he returns.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said before Carol moved to shut and lock the door, leaving the younger omega to her heat.

*Next Day*

Pulling his bike up alongside the car Glen and Rick took on their run, Daryl killed the engine. Those who were nearby and had seen them return all came over to see how it went. They had been lucky, not only did they find a large haul, but they had found it quickly which allowed them to return to the prison earlier than planned. 

Daryl noticed Zack, the kid who had been on gate duty, approached him. “Hey man, Carol left a message for you. Said to come to find her when you got back.”

“She say why?” Daryl asked, wondering if something was wrong. 

“Nope, just find her as soon as you come back,” Zack stated with a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t think it was anything bad.”

“But sounds important if Carol left word,” Rick commented. “We’ve got this. Go find Carol.”

Daryl nodded in thanks to the man before grabbing his bag and heading to find his friend, hoping it would be quick. While checking in with Carol was something he did usually when he came back from a run, there was someone else he wanted to see first, Y/N. Returning early meant he would be able to see her sooner, something Daryl was happy about. Three days away from his little omega had been plenty. Technically, she wasn’t his, she didn’t bear his mark, hell they hadn’t even had sex, but he had been courting her with the desire to make her his. He had known he wanted her from the first moment he saw her at the quarry. He just wasn’t sure it was mutual. 

Not only was he craving her sweet scent and touch, but Daryl had also found a little surprise for her on the run and couldn’t wait to give it to her. After not seeing Carol anywhere around the outdoor kitchen, Daryl decided to check cell block C. It was most likely that both Carol and Y/N were there anyway. 

Daryl was still a couple of doors away from Y/N’s cell when her scent, wild berries, and cream, hit his nose. His first thought was that he picked it up despite the distance due to their time apart but as he threw back the blanket that covered the entrance he knew that wasn’t it. The scent of ripe berries overwhelmed him and his alpha senses kicked into high gear. His mate was in heat. She was in heat and probably suffering from its effects alone, without him. Her rich scent had gone straight to his cock, and the only thing Daryl could think of was finding her. 

While fainter than within her cell, Daryl was able to follow the scent trail she had left behind, growling slightly when he picked up Maggie’s alpha scent mingling with Y/N’s though it faded quickly and was replaced with Carol’s. He followed the two scents out of the cell house to the administration building. He knew that was where the secured heat rooms were and Daryl was relieved to know that Y/N was safe from the others while she was so vulnerable. 

Between her scent and the sounds of her whimpers, it didn’t take long for Daryl to figure out which cell she was in. The holding cell was the furthest from the entrance, allowing for the most privacy possible. Daryl felt his heart clench when he caught sight of her; Y/N was naked in her makeshift nest, the cot mattress along with a few blankets and what looked like one of his shirts that he knew had gone missing a few weeks before. The alpha within him preened knowing that she had wanted to be surrounded by his scent, even if it was from his shirt. Her hand was between her legs, rubbing frantically in an attempt to get some relief from her heat but Daryl could tell the moment she caught his scent by the way her eyes snapped open and looked for him. When they landed on him, she whimpered. “Alpha, it hurts.”

Hearing her whine snapped Daryl into action. Using his set of keys, he quickly unlocked the door and let himself in. The door hadn’t even closed before he started to strip off his clothes; his poncho, vest, and shirt hit the floor while he kicked off his boots. The room was saturated with her scent and if his cock hadn’t already been hard, it certainly would have been then. As he removed his pants, he gave himself a few strokes to relieve the pressure before he lowered himself to kneel between Y/N’s thighs. “It’s okay ‘mega, I’m here. I’m going to take care of you.”

Though her thighs were coated in slick, her pussy swollen with arousal and need, Daryl laid his body on top of hers, giving her the much needed skin to skin contact. Y/N’s knees rose to cradle his hips as he pressed his mouth against her neck, kissing, nipping, the feel of his scruff brushing against her neck sending shivers through her. He used his left hand to hold himself up while his right cupped her breast, his thumb brushing against her hardened nipple, causing her to moan. 

Daryl teased her breast for a minute before moving his hand away, trailing his fingers down her stomach. His touch felt amazing, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Y/N jumped when she felt him press his calloused thumb against her clit. She moaned softly, she pushed against his hand as he started to rub firmly. Y/N could feel her eyes wanting to roll back in her head from the pleasure of his thumb sweeping back and forth across her bundle of nerves but it wasn’t enough. “More, Alpha. I need more. I need your knot.”

“You’ll have it sweet ‘mega, but I need to get you ready first before I fill you with my cock.” Daryl mumbled against her skin as he licked and bit at her neck. Not hard enough to break skin, not yet. He needed her less glassy-eyed and foggy with need. 

Moving her hands from their position on his wide shoulders, Y/N threaded her fingers through Daryl’s hair and used them to pull his face away from her neck, up to her mouth. Her lips crashed against his hungrily, as she tried to convey to him the desire she felt for him. He seemed to read her thoughts as his lips pressed against hers greedily before she nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth. His lips parted automatically, and their tongues intertwined. 

Daryl moved his fingers to her opening, sliding one in just a little before drawing it back out and circling her sensitive folds. All of the teasing movements sent Y/N into such a state that when his fingers pushed inside of her in a deep thrust, she arched her back in pleasure. She broke away from his lips and cried out. "Daryl!"

"Come for me Y/N, let me see you…" He whispered as he picked up the pace of his hand. The teasing touch he had started with was gone now, as he fucked her with his fingers. 

Every thrust of them brought her closer to the edge until she honestly believed she might be going insane from it. She felt him push into her one more time before she finally did shatter, shuddering, the waves of pleasure radiating up through her body. Daryl watched her orgasm take her over as he continued to pump his fingers inside of her, working her down from her high. He kissed her tenderly as he removed his hand from inside her. His fingertips ran back up her body, stopping briefly to caress her heaving breasts before he grabbed the arm that had been resting at her side. He laced his fingers through hers, before bringing them to his lips.

Though her body was buzzing and shuddering in the last tremors of her orgasm, Y/N felt her pussy throb again quickly when she felt Daryl roll her over onto her stomach before moving her onto her hands and knees in front of him. Her belly quivered, she craved the feel of him inside of her, she needed to feel his knot inside of her or she was going to combust. She rolled her hips back against him, rubbing herself against his throbbing erection. Daryl growled against her neck at her teasing. Not being able to wait another second, he took his thick length in his hand and guided it between her legs towards her entrance.

"Alpha…" Y/N gasped, as she felt the swollen, slick head of his cock probing her flesh. She bit her lip when he found her opening. Daryl held her hips, and she swallowed a moan when he pushed into her. He was stretching her in the best way possible.  

As soon as he was completely sheathed inside of her, he stopped, and she knew he was letting her get used to the feeling of him. She felt impossibly full, but didn’t need him to be gentle; she needed more. She flexed her thighs, sliding back and forth on him to signal that she wanted him to move. He bit back a moan, as he felt her beginning to move on him. She felt tight around him, her inner walls contracting every time she moved, trying to lock him inside her. His hands gripped her hips to stop her, taking control as he pulled out of her until only his tip was still inside her. She whimpered at the loss of him, but the whimper turned into a loud moan when he thrust back in.

Again, Daryl moved out of her, until just the tip was inside, and then back in fully. He repeated the action a few more times, making Y/N moan. Her thighs trembled, while her body jerked as he rammed into her, the swollen head of his cock pushing and hitting her deep inside. His hips started moving, pumping into her at a demanding, hungry pace. One of his hands left her hip cupping her breast to knead the full mound to try and distract him from her neck. It took all of his willpower not to sink his teeth into the flesh of her throat.

She closed her eyes and let sensations engulf her. Daryl could see her mouth open slightly as a moan escaped her when the friction inside of her was too much, or the head of his cock pushed on a sensitive spot. He gripped her hip harder, moving faster into her, the feel of her around him pushing him further, wanting to go deeper into her for his knot to lock them together. Her face twisted more and more in pleasure as he felt her starting to flutter around him. She felt him grip her hips tighter as his thrusts became faster and more erratic.

Her walls clamped down around his cock, as her orgasm rolled over her. He held her tight when he kept moving against her for his own impending release. He relished the feel of her muscles flexing tightly around his cock. His orgasm coursed through his body as he continued to pump into her, his knot expanding until it was notched inside her. As soon as they were locked, he came hard, filling her completely. His orgasm seemed to go on for hours though he knew it was only minutes. When his body finally came down from his high, he felt like he was going to collapse. Not wanting to crush Y/N, he rolled the two of them onto their sides, wrapped his arm around her, and tucked her head under his chin. “You feel better ‘mega?”

Y/N nodded before yawning, feeling half asleep already. She had been in agony since her heat had come on full force, she tried her best to relieve the ache within her by herself but it wasn’t even close to the satisfaction she was feeling now thanks to the knot now locked inside her. It wouldn’t be too long before her pussy would be throbbing again with need for Daryl. 

“Get some rest Y/N,” Daryl ordered. “I’ve got ya.”

Please reblog or tag a friend to share.

Thanks to @littlegodzilla, @green-eyedladywrites, & @minervadashwood for their help!

[chaithetics]

I was rewatching season 3(the Kendall birthday episode) and I thinking, maybe Stewy and Porce are married, or other story of course; and the part where Ken takes the siblings to see the mocking pictures and it could have one of Porce and Stewy together and Kendall "jokes" about the "crying baby and the shark" and it really upsets her(as it should) and even the siblings are upset by this, and she just turns to him and says "this is why my kids are playing with their cousins(Sophie and Iverson) ,so they don't grow up like you" and goes away. I think that'd be powerful, because the kids have a true bond, Rava and Porce are true friends and Ken is a j*rk, and when Stewy finds out, there'll be a reckoning

Porcelain and the Shark: Too Much Birthday

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of her complexion)

Word count: 3.1K

Chapter warning: 18+ MDNI (smut-free fic) established relationship, fluff, soft Stewy, anxious reader, some familial angst, some cussing, some misogynistic views, Roys being Roys.

Authors note: Thank you so much for sending this in lovely Nonnie! It was such an inspiring ask, I hope you don't mind the few changes I made, please do let me know what you think! I adore you! I'm so glad to be out of hospital and after reading this prompt I was inspired to rewatch this S3 episode. I went a little off-track and I think this one is a bit different to other fics but I made the connection about the misogynistic tones with this and also the poster that Shiv had and saw it as a great opportunity to explore and develop Porce and Shiv's dynamic. Especially with all the asks about girlhood in film and then with the Barbie film re-prompting those conversations I just wanted to explore it even more (this doesn't have Barbie spoilers or mentions btw) so I finished it pretty quickly. It's nice to be back! I'm still pretty unwell despite being out of the hospital so I can't promise or commit to a writing schedule again yet but I'll definitely still be writing more Stewy (I've had a few Barbie inspired asks which I want to get around to asap as well haha). I appreciate you all and I hope you enjoy this! Please do let me know what you think, I'd really appreciate it! Comments, reblogs and asks are more than welcome and appreciated! I adore you all! 💗(PS this hasn't been proofread..."

*****************************

Kendall was sensitive, controlling, and obsessive. Which often manifested around certain significant events and moments in his life. It was a quality all of the Roy children seemed to share to an extent, you’d seen it in your siblings numerous times and even occasionally yourself. 

Kendall’s birthdays were often disastrous, he wanted perfection, he wanted to fill the hollowness inside with extravagance, validation and company. But it never quite was good enough, it was always disappointing and fell through somehow. You knew the self-created stakes would be even higher for Kendall as it was a ‘significant’ birthday along with the latest edition of family drama. Shiv’s letter had hit pretty hard and far. 

You weren’t sure if any of your siblings would go, probably Connor, loyal as always. Rome? Maybe? He had an interesting, pained soft spot for Kendall. Shiv…? You’d think she wouldn’t want to show after recent events but Shiv was cunning and clever. She could show up to play a mind game perhaps? Or maybe they’d show up on behalf of your dad to really get into Kendall’s head. Would your father even attend? You assumed he’d been invited. 

It was a lot of questions swirling around in your mind, you weren’t sure of any of those answers. Which was part of the reason why you were certain you needed to go, some visible and physical support for Kendall as you knew he’d be crumbling, you’d all been walking on eggshells your whole lives but the last few years for Kendall, they’d been getting more and more brittle. 

You feel a little anxious as you’re stuck so deep inside your head until a familiar and soft voice brings you back. 

“Where’d you go?” 

His tone is laced with neutrality and an air of caution but his face clearly says that he thinks this is all a bad idea. He looks at you sitting down, facing the mirror, he thinks you look gorgeous but he notices your legs bouncing now that you’re back in reality. 

“I was just thinking about Ken.” You try to keep your voice level, without a drop of any emotion. 

“We don’t have to go-” 

“No-”

“I don’t think we should go.” Stewy resigns. It’s at least the twelfth time he’s said it today. 

Stewy hadn’t RSVP’d, he hadn’t acknowledged his separate invitation to yours and had been somewhat silent regarding Kendall. Which was extremely unusual. He didn’t like the direction of the mess of Waystar’s strategic and boardroom politics and his relationship with your family personally and professionally was strained. 

You had to go to Kendall’s birthday to support him and you didn’t want to go alone. You felt bad about it but you and Stewy were both aware that the optics of Stewy being there was beneficial for Kendall’s sake. 

“I know.” You sigh as you shift a little so that your head is facing him more as you look up at him standing. “He needs this though…And I need you.” You walk over to Stewy, giving him a gentle peck on his soft lips. “Please?” You press your lips against his and wrap your arms around the back of his neck as it deepens, his tongue brushes against yours and your hand tangles a little in his hair as you feel his hands wrap securely around your waist. 

“We’ll just go for a little bit?” Your voice is soft as you break away from the kiss, you start to caress his cheek, your fingers dancing over his handsome beard that never ceases to amaze you with how well-trimmed and clean it is. Stewy tilts his head to gently lean his forehead against yours and nods as he inhales. 

“You’re too good to me.” You whisper as you give him another kiss on the lips, you can taste the whiskey on him from his drink that’s sitting across the room half-empty. He’s sweet and his touch is so gentle with you. 

“Well you’re perfect, you deserve nothing less baby.” He says as he gives you a quick but soft kiss on the lips. “Now, am I matching my turtleneck to what you’re wearing?” He asks with a smug smile. You laugh a little at that and nod, giving his cheek another stroke and then a quick peck on his lips before he squeezes your side and then walks over to the walk-in wardrobe. 

****************************

You’d always been anxious about the concept of nannies and babysitters and when those services had been needed you’d preferred to have Connor (when possible) and Stewy’s family watch your children. But you trusted Rava with your life, you adored her and you knew she adored Sophie and Iverson more than anything. So with her reassurance, your children were with their cousins and would be looked after by Rava’s nanny. Sophie had been loudly looking forward to some quality time with her younger cousins which was sweet. 

Those thoughts and the anxiety you’d had quickly left your mind though as you and Stewy walked into the venue and through what you were horrified and shocked to learn was a model of Caroline’s vagina. 

“Do you think he talked to her about…this…?” You asked Stewy with widened eyes as you waved your hand around gesturing to the bizarre scene of a campy body horror film in front of you. 

“No.” Stewy said as his eyes flitted across the room once again to take in the nurses, surgical equipment and very briefly, a “replica” of his mother-in-law's vagina. It was beyond reason, even for Kendall. “They don’t talk in the first place.” He spoke as his hand wrapped around your waist a bit tighter, pulling you in closer as he then navigated you both towards the bar. Stewy was certain alcohol would be necessary to make this night bearable, it was inevitable that someone would blow up.

As you and Stewy stand by the bar waiting for your drinks a man comes over, you don’t think you’ve seen him before and you’re not the biggest fan of the smug expression on his face as his eyes hone in on you. 

“Hey, I’m Kyle.” He says boldly, Stewy’s right next to you with his hand on the small of your back. Your ring is visibly on your finger. You’re kind of surprised at the audacity of him, especially with Stewy right next to you. You look at him a bit confused, hoping he’ll end it but his smile persists. “So what’s your name?” 

You say your first name as Stewy wraps his arms around you, leaning against your back with his head on your shoulder, making a point. 

“Shit, you’re a Roy?!” Kyle asks, you see the flash of excitement in his eyes at that prospect. It grosses you out. 

“Hosseini Roy.” You say somewhat firmly, as Stewy quirks an eyebrow and then starts to press some kisses to your shoulder and your exposed neck. 

“Right, where’s your husband Ms Roy?” Kyle asks. You don’t know if he’s a stupid asshole or an arrogant one but you know for sure he’s one either way. You feel Stewy chuckle a little at that as the movement of it and its breath tickles your neck. 

“The international space station-” You dramatically quip, and Stewy stops his kisses for a moment to laugh at that against your neck. This stranger is being ridiculous and so you may as well if he’s going to be so oblivious, it just so happened to be convenient that Tillie really liked space books and toys at the moment. 

“That must be lonely-” Kyle cuts you off and the smirk on his face is too much. You scrunch your face up at him in annoyance. 

“Can’t you see that my husband is here? Literally right here?! The whole time you’ve been doing this. Why the cuss did my brother invite you?” You ask with an eye roll as you take Stewy’s hand and walk off before Kyle has a chance to say anything else.

“What a douche.” You say as you lean your head against Stewy’s arm. He pecks a kiss to the top of your forehead with a grin on your face. 

“You handled that impeccably.” He says with a small chuckle. 

“Well, your act was pretty good.” You say moving your hand to rest against his back and trace patterns there. 

“The international space station, I’ve never been. Do you think it has some villas with good views?” He asks playfully.  

“Possibly. I don’t think we should invest in space tourism or realty though.” You answer and he laughs. 

“Does Tillie think I’m an astronaut?” He asks, thinking about Tillie’s fascination with space. 

“No. She’s never said it and I haven’t told her that. But I do think our children are far too young to understand the financial market.” 

“You sure? I’d understand if you were worried Jonathan was going to mansplain stocks to you.” Stewy teases, as he presses another kiss to your head as you scoff. 

“We’ll leave the mansplaining to you, darling.” You say tilting your head up from his arm to press a kiss to his lips, they’re soft and warm. He looks at you with a large smile. 

It’s not long after that that somebody who knows Stewy through work comes over and the three of you have a conversation for a few minutes, you’re pressed into Stewy’s side with his arm around you. You tilt your head and then you see Shiv and Roman coming in and then there’s Ken. 

You’re stuck inside with a hit of worry at first, you look at your handsome husband as he’s mid-sentence talking to this finance bro that you’re not the biggest fan of but who is considerably less gross than Kyle. As Stewy finishes his sentence you quickly cut in placing a hand gently on his cheek, he leans into the touch and looks into your eyes affectionately. 

“Sorry, Kendall’s over there, I’m going to go over. I’ll find you after okay?” You ask. 

“Yeah, of course, baby.” He nods and your lips brush for a quick affectionate kiss, you apologise to the man that you’ve been in a conversation with who nods as you walk off. 

You walk over to where three of your siblings are discussing and come over when you hear Shiv saying she couldn’t find a card that said “Happy birthday” and “Get well soon” You look at her with a somewhat pointed expression, she shrugs slightly and raises her eyebrows at you. 

After he hugs Shiv, Kendall’s eyes land on you and he smiles. You can tell that he’s glad Shiv and Roman came, even if they’re biting him. It makes you sad but you’re glad that he at least has some solace in that. There’s a bit of banter and you do raise your eyebrows when Roman asks about the vagina replica. When he does his little pleased expression and gesture at being told he can take it home you glare at him. 

“Roman!” You exclaim and he smirks at you. 

When Shiv asks if Stewy is there, there’s a pointed look from her, some smugness and a pointed look from Kendall but it’s different. It’s more desperate. You nod. 

“Yeah, uh- Stewy’s here. He was talking to some finance bro. He’ll come over soon Ken. I just wanted to say hi first” You say. You’re not sure if it’s a half-lie or not yet. But you know it’s better for Kendall’s sake for you to say it, he nods at that and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t read but boy does it worry you. Shiv drops a few more names and it’s very clear that she and Roman showed up to use it as a business opportunity. 

“Hey, I got something to show you. This way. This way!” Kendall says somewhat excitedly and then walks ahead with the Roy siblings following him. 

You watch Roman hand Kendall an envelope and after that he retreats back a bit for Shiv to go ahead of him, you raise your eyebrows at him and he raises them back at you. 

“Please tell me you’re not stirring the pot?” You ask quietly as you walk side by side. 

“I’m not- it’s nice- it’s nice. It’ll be good for Ken.” Roman says, his tone is earnest which surprises you. 

Kendall then grabs your attention by talking about what he’s going to show you, you recognise some of the names and you’re intrigued by whatever it is based on that and Kendall’s imagination. 

You walk into a room that’s being used as an art gallery space. As you walk in your eyes are immediately assaulted by the fictional headline of Roman. Roman’s response is more upbeat and amused than the tone of his voice or his facial expression. You can see it in his eyes, he’s retreated somewhat and he seems to get lost the longer he looks at it. Everyone knows of his intimacy issues and it’s cruel to point them out in this way you think. 

You look at Shiv’s and you just feel angry. It’s a pit in your stomach of fire and you don’t feel this way often, it’s an odd feeling but it’s strong. Connor gets angry with Kendall over his and you understand that but you’re more focused on this. What was Kendall saying? Adding more stigma and cruel jokes onto sex workers? Shaming his sister for her sexuality? Reducing her to just an anti-feminist sex joke? 

Shiv’s bobbed around hers and then her eyes land on your one. You turn, already upset at Shiv’s as you clock her shocked gaze at yours before you get a chance to look at it, to process it. 

It’s an image of you from your childhood as a baby, it’s been digitally altered so that you’re a baby and you’re in shark-infested waters. You read the headline and comments and feel tears forming in your eyes and they’re hot. Your eyes flit between yours and Shiv, Shiv’s doing her best to hide her discomfort. 

Shiv looks at you, her eyes silently saying “I can’t say anything.” And she can’t. You know that. Each step of hers is a careful calculation to avoid the emotional, hormonal, overbearing, hypersensitive, incompetent woman accusations they already throw at her. Whether it’s unspoken or spoken, and it’s both, they all say her head is unfit for that coveted heavy crown. 

As a woman, sister, and mother, it’s already there. Your fate, reputation, and purpose. You’re emotional, a crybaby, sensitive and hormonal. But unlike your siblings, and well Shiv, you do not need nor want that tragic fate that they all betray each other for. While there is a sting in providing them ammunition for those perceived claims from your actions and words, it won’t kill you in the same way. You give Shiv a small nod, a silent “I know.” That is only for her. 

“What the absolute fuck Ken?” You ask, he looks at you with raised eyebrows. 

“What?” He asks with a chuckle. 

“What the fuck is this?” You ask gesturing behind you to the large images of you and Shiv in your brother’s eyes. 

“It’s a joke, c’mon you don’t need to uh get so emotional about it-” He says and you let out a humourless laugh at that. 

“Kendall?! This is disgusting! You’ve reduced Shiv to ‘wife of Tom Wamsgams’ yes, because that’s all she is?! A wife? Oh, and it’s an embarrassing joke to say she’s a sex worker?! So your Times Up campaign is just strictly performative? Mr Fuck the Patriarchy is actually a SWERF trying to humiliate his sister and women for an already stigmatised career? And this is coming from the fact that Shiv has a sexuality…?” You question, he looks at you, not saying a word. Shiv stands near you watching you carefully, as Roman looks down uncomfortably and Connor and Willa stand together tensely. You’ve never spoken out like this against any of them. 

“And what is this?” You exclaim as you point to the image behind you. “I’m your sister, you’re meant to care about me. Not infantilise me like that and make cruel, perverted jokes about my marriage. It’s sick Kendall. Stewy and I are there for our kids- we probably see Sophie and Iverson more than you do. This is why they’re close and Rava and I work so hard with them all, so they don’t end up doing this.” You breathe out shakily for a second, Connor looks at you sympathetically, Shiv is still silent but she’s grateful for everything being said. The tears are hot and burn your cheeks where they stay. “You have no idea what it’s like and you’re part of the problem. This is just cruel and it all reeks of so much fucking misogyny. I’ve-I’ve defended you. I’ve defended and supported you my whole life- I didn’t, I didn’t even sign that letter because it was harsh and cold but this is misogynistic and disgusting. This is just so mean and gross.” You finish.

“Fuck off.” Kendall says, it’s somewhat playfully, he has a smirk on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I can’t do this Ken, I can’t. You need to reflect on this and just do better. For us, Rava, Sophie. Just everyone.” You sigh out as more tears come, there’s nothing else to say to him and you’re ready to leave.

Shiv looks at you again, it’s not a scowl or an attempt at nonchalance. It’s also not a smile but her facial expression has softened. There’s another silent conversation, one that surprises you both as they often happen with every other sibling you have except each other. For you both, it’s a moment of understanding. It’s a genuine thank you and the usual, unusual display of Roy love and affection. You both do care about the other and you’re bonded in the impossible difficulties of being a woman. A brief few seconds of sisterhood are shared between you both. For possibly the first time, and even though you both know Shiv may never see you as more than competition due to her nature and your upbringing, you hope it’s not the last time. 

You nod looking at her, giving her a small, tight-lipped smile and then leave the room to find Stewy. Shiv watches you leave and gives your quickly retreading silhouette a small smile.

[duchezss]

Honestly I think jwcc is gonna be roman empire forever, more specifically S4 and 5, because of how much the writers ruined all of their characters arcs and growths.

I think S1-3 were just perfect. Ok maybe they weren't actually perfect, but for they were setting out to do it was superb. The writers were establishing dynamics and relationships and conflicts, external and internal, so well. It's almost hard to believe that such a grounded brilliant story fell apart in the last two seasons. I generally cannot fathom how they were the same writers. For example, in S3 Ben and Darius have this long arc about forgiving each other and coming to understand each other after the monorail. It was beautiful and slow paced and just a great character study. So when the end of S3 happened, and Darius and Kenji were clearly fighting, I figured they would kinda do the same thing for them. Instead the two forgave each other in less then five minutes and then they just never speak on it again. I can't be only one that just finds that so odd?

Another thing I think really ruined the show was the forced romance between Brooklynn and Kenji. It was out of left field, it didn't make sense, and it completely undermined their characters. To me, the show always presented their bond as brother and sister, but honestly if the writers had done it better maybe (MAYBE) I could've gotten behind it. They just made it so hard to route for them. First of all because of the romance, the two of them weren't really allowed to interact with the others. Like yes they did, but not in meaningful ways like they had before. Also something that irks me to no end is them playing off Kenji so vigorously trying to save Brooklynn at the end of S3 only because he had a crush on her. That's such a misinterpretation of his character, because S3 Kenji would've acted like that if ANY of the crew were in that situation. They became the only family he ever had, and to say that all of that was just because of a crush? Oh don't get be started. Also it just made Brooklynn a shell of the character she once was. I was so upset in S5 when the only thing she got to do was mope about Kenji's betrayal. She deserved more development and screen time, and just everything really. Their romance did a huge disservice to them both.

Third point, I really hate how they played off everyone not having PTSD, especially Darius. I was very happy that Yaz had that arc in S5 and how they showed how it really got to her. But when the rest of the group said everyone was fine, especially Darius? The same Darius that felt endlessly burdened with leading? The same Darius that had nightmares about his father and Ben after he lost them? The same Darius that let everything get to him even when he knew it shouldn't? THE SAME CHARACTER THAT WAS ALONE ALL OF S4 AND THE WRITERS DID NOTHING WITH??? Ohhhh one day these writers will pay for the way they sidelined THEIR MAIN CHARACTER. Darius deserved that arc, and he deserved an arc that allowed him to step out of the leadership role. Like yes that was technically S4, but it was handled in such a bad way and it really didn't present any growth for him or the crew. Just a wasted opportunity.

I think at their core, the problems with S4 and S5 lie with the direction the writers wanted to take it. As soon as the group ended up at this highly technological island I knew it was over. Not to say advanced stuff is bad, the hybrids were always sick, and I even thought the mind controlling was a good moral dilemma, but everything else? It was so tiring and frustrating, like damn I don't care about the brads or this island, or these random ass characters you introduced. I think the writers just really lost sight of what made the show so great in the first place, the main characters. Yes the plot was amazing, but the brilliant cast of characters and their ever changing dynamics and lives was what really brought it home. When you erase all of the development you've been building up for three seasons in favor of a incredulously complicated and over done plot that side lined your main cast what can you expect? It seems voltron was in fact a harbinger for this show. One day dreamworks will learn how to not fall off mid show, but it appears that's not any time soon.

[miserymerci]

Fluffy February Day 5: Planet - Maybe When the Sun Comes Up

@ // fluffyfebruary

Fandom: Lego Monkie Kid

Characters: MK and Sun Wukong

(Father-son relationship, hurt and comfort, platonic cuddling)

Warnings: Possible dissociation

Summary: Set after S3 E7 (Cooking with Chang’e). Wukong is taunted by Macaque. Except, something doesn’t feel right. Wukong floats between life and nothing. Sometimes all someone needs is to feel the ground beneath their feet, and the gravity weighing down on them.

The breeze combed Wukong’s fur and prickled his skin. Something warm and cold simultaneously seeped through his veins, like heavy rain and like simmering blood. It felt misplaced— wrong. The rain clouds should not be crying; his body should not be sick with anger.

Wukong choked on life and shot his head off the ground.

The world, deep and dark, stared back at him. Hard rain ricocheted off the rock under his hands. He sputtered, coughed, and rolled onto his back.

One moment, the moon was whole. The next, there was an eclipse.

“Hey, Sun Wukong ,” said Macaque, the moonlight spilling onto his edges.

Distant thunder rolled. Wukong’s simmering blood roared along with it.

“You!” he spat, the words drowned by the downpour.

Macaque squeezed one clawed hand around Wukong’s neck. Wukong’s limbs were heavy, hands only forming into fists as Macaque closed in on him; a weightless and pressuring, freezing and burning thing.

Wukong wanted to choke. He could not– not anymore.

“Don’t look so mad,” said Macaque like a pitter-patter of rain underneath a raging storm. He eyed Wukong’s bared teeth and smiled. “It makes you look stupid. You knew that your actions would lead you here. Don’t try to act innocent on me, now. We both know the truth.”

‘The truth?’ Wukong wanted to say, but his mouth remained shut. His eyelashes fluttered at the next numbing breeze.

Macaque smiled and laughed like a soft, broken tune.

“You know ! You do !” he barked with a heavier laugh. His teeth, gleaming like the moon, leaned in closer to Wukong’s face. His hand shook against Wukong’s throat.

Wukong still couldn’t feel it. His chest felt faint, as if the most important bits of it were floating away. The rain cried against the rock. The bramble and brush howled with the wind. Touches of ghosts pinned him to the ground.

“Whatever plan is brewing in that little noggin of yours is never going to work . Like all your plans, they’re just doomed to fail. And , just like the rest of them, you’re going to ruin the ones you love, aren’t you?” sneered Macaque. The rain was beginning to drag his fur down, a stream of it dripping to splatter and run down Wukong’s face.

Wukong blinked.

‘No,’ Wukong wanted to say, ‘I have a plan– more of a blueprint, really, but I’ll be taking all the blame. I’m going to do this right– play this right– and in the end, I’ll do it by myself !’

But the words were never said.

Macaque’s eyes dulled, the smile became lazy, and the sound of the storm fell into a muffled patter.

“When are you ever going to learn ?” he said quietly, seethingly. The ghost touches grew cold. Nails pushed into Wukong’s buzzing fresh. “Still the same self-destructive, collateral-damage Wukong. Will you change once someone is killed over your incompetence?”

The breath was coming back to Wukong. Heavy at first; lungs digging into the oxygen like claws scooping quicksand. They clawed and clawed and scooped in a craze, dormant one moment and slipping the next.

Wukong filled his chest with empty air.

Macaque’s other hand clamped over Wukong’s mouth before he could speak.

“But no,” said Macaque, “no, that’s not right, is it? You’ve already killed someone. How could another’s change you? Maybe you’re not meant for change. Maybe you’re doomed to curse everyone who’s ever had the misfortune of loving you… does that sound right?”

The rain wept and wept. The purple glow of Macaque’s eyes was too much. In a brave display of energy, Wukong’s eyes flitted over to look at the tiny stone monkey perched sweetly atop its rocky bedding.

Over him, Macaque’s nails dug deeper into his skin.

“Look at me,” he said through clenched teeth. “ Look !”

Wukong did not. The rain began to feel cooler against him. His lungs fought against that quicksand. He coughed against Macaque’s palm, gasped a struggling breath, and shot one leg up to kick Macaque in the stomach.

Macaque shouted something– swallowed by the thunder above– and dark eyes and purple limbs came crashing down on him.

Wukong took his attacker by the throat.

His cry came out strangled. For a frightening second, dark hair was midnight fur shimmering in the moonlight– and then the vision was gone.

“MK!” gasped Wukong, hand dropping to his successor’s shoulder. “ Kid , I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Above him, MK took a fleeting breath and shrunk back.

“Um… yeah. Yeah, I am. Are you ?”

Wukong sat up slowly and looked around. The group was sound asleep around them, the night sky was speckled and full, and MK was kneeling at his side.

“I… Here, let me take another look at this.”

MK managed to stay mostly-still as Wukong’s golden vision swept over him. Then, he let out one last shuddering breath and shuffled closer again.

“Bad dream?” asked MK, cautiously.

“You can call it that,” said Wukong. “It might leave a mark for a day or two. I really am sorry, bud. I’d poof up some ointment, but it wouldn’t exactly do anything because it’s technically hair .”

“It’s okay.”

“I don’t think it is.”

Wukong flexed his hand experimentally. His skin was still buzzing; still numb from his dream. He frowned.

“It is kind of cold,” said MK as he watched him.

“What?”

“It’s cold out,” he repeated.

It wasn’t really to Wukong. The breeze was light and gentle, and the clouds were pleasantly still. Yet, MK did look flushed with cold. Maybe a mortal thing.

The thought gave no comfort.

“Wh…” Wukong shook his head, “ What are you awake for, bud? You should be asleep. You know, not interrupting other people’s sleep.”

MK at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Yeah, well… I took a look at Pigsy’s recipe book and decided to try to make one of Chang’e’s mooncakes.”

“What?”

“I took a look at–”

“No, bud. I heard you the first time,” Wukong rubbed his eyes, “I just– now ? Of all times? Why don’t you bother the chef?”

When Wukong blinked back into focus, MK was looking at him worriedly.

“Don’t look like that,” said Wukong before he could stop himself.

MK’s expression faltered, tried to harden, failed, and then became worried again.

“Sorry. Um… I’m not allowed to wake up Pigsy until six in the morning. It’s a rule. And I needed mooncake molds because I don’t know how to shape mooncakes without them– oh, and probably an oven too. I need an oven.”

Wukong blinked at him.

“You want me to poof up cake molds and an oven?”

“I wouldn’t mind an Easy Bake?”

Wukong fell back down to his back and slung an arm over his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say to you right now, bud.”

He heard MK sniffle. Then, two crossed arms pressed onto his chest. Lightly at first, but then pushed down carefully until MK’s top-half was fully settled on top of him.

Wukong inhaled harshly. The oxygen found grace in his lungs.

“What is it?” wheezed Wukong, peeking down at his successor.

“Do you ever want to run away?” asked MK.

Wukong blinked at the top of MK’s head and guessed that he was staring at the stars. He frowned, swallowed, and then looked up

“That’s a weird question,” he said.

“I mean like… go off and never come back. As far as you can go.”

“No,” said Wukong, quietly, “do you?”

MK huffed. He tucked his knees closer to his stomach, pressing Wukong with more of his weight.

After a moment, the warmth began seeping back into Wukong’s bones; gently, as if it was there all along; like the feeling was finally thawing out.

“Maybe sometimes,” said MK when Wukong’s breaths were easier. “I don’t actually mean any of it, though. Just quick thoughts. When I’m really freaked out, I mean.”

“I don’t like the thought. Running away, I mean. Don’t like it.”

MK relaxed from his place on Wukong’s chest.

“That makes sense,” he said, “you just want to make things right.”

Wukong was glad MK couldn’t see his face. His hands, feeling as if they were truly his hands again, went up to settle around MK. The ground dug against his back. The cool breeze tickled his nose. His kid, though heavy, pulled together his jittering limbs until they clicked back into one body.

“One day, we might,” said Wukong.

“Might what?”

“Make things right. But… not right now. And sometimes, I feel like we never will.”

MK didn’t reply. He was almost entirely curled into a little ball of monkey. It probably wasn’t comfortable at all. So, after one more full breath, Wukong sat up and let MK slip down to his side.

“ Ow ,” said MK, not actually hurt at all.

“ Yeah right , you baby. Mortals are so fragile .”

“Am not .”

“And because mortals are so fragile,” said Wukong, ignoring MK’s protests, “they need their sleep.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“ I’m more than a thousand years old, bud. You're always going to be a kid to me.”

Wukong curled an arm over MK, letting him weigh him down to the Earth. He settled his chin on top of MK’s head– just for now. In a few minutes, he planned to let go, and then they would wake up as normal and carry on with their way.

Unfortunately, like most of his plans, they were doomed to fail.

“It’s okay to be hurt,” said MK, minutes later, when Wukong thought he was already asleep, “I get it.”

Wukong laughed softly.

“Bud, you hold grudges like they’re toasted marshmallows.”

“Wh– what does that even mean? I can hold a grudge!”

Across from them, Tang grumbled in his sleep.

Wukong sent a warning look in MK’s direction before continuing.

“I think that’s a good thing about you, even though it can lead you to trouble. But there are a lot of things between him and I that aren’t easy to explain. If I tried to put it into words… Well, I don’t know. It’s complicated. I am hurt. He is too. We’re hurting each other. Nothing I’m thinking feels right.”

MK was giving him that worried look again. Wukong forced himself to blink back to the present.

“Do you want me to give you those molds and an oven, now?” asked Wukong.

“Not yet,” said MK, blinking slowly and settling down completely at Wukong’s side. “Maybe in the morning.”

Wukong blinked.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a whisper, “maybe in the morning.”

[occulthours]

out of curiosity, are you a hosie or a hizzie? you're pretty loud about your dislike for handon, but i rarely see you post either hosie or hizzie.

Honestly, I had to think hard to answer this because I really did enjoy aspects of both ships. Short answer, I like both but don't love either. If I had to choose I would likely say Hizzie.

With Hosie I feel like they lacked a lot of the depth despite them being the most popular ship in the show. Ironically enough, they followed in KC's footsteps in that sense. They never really had enough build-up for them to start a relationship at any point in the show and it didn't help that the writers seemingly put a ban on them in s3. After being called out for queerbaiting the audience they just decided to completely cut Hope and Josie off from each other, even in situations that would've called for them to interact (s2 literally ended with them having an episode heavily centric on their dynamic, yet there was no follow up in s3?).

Their dynamic for the most part bored me, even as someone who enjoys the friends-to-lovers trope. Often times their scenes felt a bit empty, which definitely could’ve been intentional on the writers part to dissuade people from shipping them to be fair! They just didn’t get enough content for me to fully jump on board. I do think that out of Hope's popular ships, they had the best chemistry. They felt very natural in the scenes they shared and could've been great in canon. Had DRR and Kaylee been given the chance, Hosie would’ve been one of the few canon Legacies ships that had real romantic chemistry.

Hope and Lizzie’s relationship very clearly the star of the show. The best elements of the show were jumpstarted by their relationship (their rivals-to-friends era in s1, their hilarious scenes in s2 and 3, and their tribrid/heretic, sirebond, and enemies era in s4). The writers put more effort into Hizzie than any other aspect of the show, including Hope and Lizzie's canon relationships with their boring boyfriends. Typically, Hizzie is the thing the Legacies writers are praised for the most, and the praise is deserved.

Based on the writing alone Hizzie would've gone down as one of my favorite TVDU ships, maybe even one of my favorite ships period. But I don’t think DRR and Jenny have much romantic chemistry. Very close friends and platonic soulmates, yes. Girlfriends... I'd have to actually see it to believe it. They had the potential to start something, especially in season 4, but I’m not sure how it would feel to actually watch them have romantic scene.

It’s hard to say which I'd rather have been canon because of this. I can't see how Hope and Josie’s relationship being entertaining to watch (assuming that I can't go back and rewrite their relationship) and unless DRR and Jenny were specifically toning down whatever romantic chemistry they may have, I can't see myself rooting for them to kiss on screen. If I absolutely had to choose? Before s4 I would’ve said Hizzie by a long shot, but s4 gave Hosie an edge (I love ships where one or both of them are obsessively down bad and s4 Josie fit that to a T. Josie caring more about the girl that beat her father nearly to death, threatened to kill her mother, and actually killed her sister? EAT EAT EAT!), but also the sirebond gave Hizzie a bit of an edge (how could you not get even a little buzz from “I hate you for making me love you”?)… Hizzie was the first Legacies ship I fell for so I feel like I’m always gonna be a bit bias towards them.

I’d choose either one of these ships over the train wreck that was Hope and Landon in a heartbeat though! Both had potential to be excellent in their own ways if H.ndon wasn’t shoved down our throats.

[maxphilippa]

The Cursed Trinity.

and the bringers of the curse.

For more context of these AU's, keep on reading: (long post ahead)

These are the three 'dark' AU's that I have but they're midly tame actually.

I'll explain the lore of them briefly:

La Blade's Place AU: So. The AU takes place two or three years after S2 ends, actually, where Mephone4 finally decided to come back instead of finishing S3 first and Knife won against Lightbulb, and tried to confront Taco, but couldn't since she ran away, but definitely left a good crack on her. Knife was the winner of the season and was more than happy to be back with his friends. Though he hasn't done anything "meaningful" with the money yet, he was more than satisfied with winning. Everyone has had their reasons for competing, but Knife's reasons were a secret. He could finally let himself relax and be comfortable for once in his life, and meanwhile he wasn't entirely social, since he had just a very specific group of people he liked to spend time with, he still didn't mind. He saw people reworking their friendships and becoming better at the end.

He met some new contestants and such, from Invitational, and that, but at one point it stopped due to Mephone4 taking a small break. Or so he thinks.

He doesn't... know. No one knows. Invitational is supposed to continue still. Anyway, Knife is pretty happy with his life. He can finally spend time with Mic and Pickle. And even if he didn't win, that sole fact was like a prize to him.

They're pretty chill and just enjoying to be with eachother. Feelings blossom and... They are there. Knife was planning on buying a house for them to live in- though he doesn't mind Hotel OJ, he would have liked that. Maybe even spend their lifes together. He was just very happy with them and as much as he's the jerk, he fell hard.

They're just pretty happy of being together again.

And everything seemed to be so... normal now. Knife saw how Baseball and Suitcase met Clover. They have visits from Tea Kettle and Liferring. Paintbrush and Lightbulb finally being together again. Everyone was happy. And he was happy too, with the people he loved the most. But Taco wasn't doing so good. Taco was already struggling a lot with losing two best friends because of her actions. Let alone the fight she had with Knife, meanwhile she did rough him up a bit on the legs and is the cause of the missing piece of his blade now, he still made the "most of damage" by worsening the crack on her eye. She was still hiding, but using Test Tube's old secret lab as a hidding spot. She was rewiring MePad a lot more to make him much more of an associate rather than a tool. But she wasn't coping well.

Taco felt like she was left out, forgotten, left to rot because of her actions. But why? She also deserved her happy ending! She... she deserved to be happy, like everyone else! Why was Knife able to get what she always wanted? Why was he able to love Pickle and Mic and... not her? Why was he allowed to be happy? Why couldn't she have that? Why was she left alone with no friends, with no one to care about her...? Why was the jerk the one to get all of that? She tried to change, too. But Knife was the only one who got that treatment in the end.

He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of it, she thinks.

Perhaps it's her bitterness showing through, or how much she just hated Knife after their last encounter where he tried to save MePad but failed, perhaps is how much she hates him, perhaps it's how betrayed she feels by both Pickle and Mic, how much she resents the other contestants, how much she hates this fucking show that made a joke out of her, how much she despises it. How much she hates Knife and... herself to an extent.

She think he doesn't deserve it because she wants that. Knife didn't work his ass off for years to get his friends back just to pull them that easily.

And it would get even worse when she found out that they were... you know. Something. She found out since she has been stalki- checking on her two ex-friends, and from the isolation, Taco ends up snapping.

And this leads to the destruction of Hotel OJ, Pickle's death, and Knife going on a hunting mode just to make her pay. A lot more of stuff happens but that's for other posts.

Wired Mic/Rewired Mic AU: An small what if 'Mic wasn't able to save Knife from the fall, leading him to his death, and that makes her realize that what Taco was doing was messed up."

Microphone was shocked over the fact that she saw her friend die thanks to her, and Taco tried to reassure her that it was for the best, but Mic ended up cutting ties with Taco. This hurted Taco but she decided she couldn't let it happen.

So she shots Mic with her gun and that knocks her out. Shortly after, she decides to rewire her in order for her to not leave her side. Meanwhile, Knife was stuck with Lightbulb in the waiting room (where contestants go as they wait for Mephone4 to revive them), and was processing his first death. But he was worried about whatever could happen to Mic and what Taco could do. Once they get regenerated, he's fucking worried and processing everything still, and went to check on Mic, but she was so...

Different.

She wasn't Mic anymore. It's like someone changed her forever.

CIT / Clock Is Ticking AU: To put it shortly, in Burgs's own words when we were developing this AU yesterday, it's basically a swap between Mic and Pickle but Mic gets hurt in second-hand.

But it's actually more complicated than that.

So the main thing with this AU is that:

Pickle ended up reading Taco's letters and made his way back to her. Only to never be seen again.

So it happens shortly after S1 ends + once Hotel OJ is completely done, Pickle was still sensitive and grieving over losing his best friend. So he's not coping well.

Knife notices this and tries to be there with him, and tells him that Taco isn't worth the trouble, and that she made her choice when she did all of that. But Pickle didn't want to believe it. She was his best friend! Someone he loved so very much! She... she didn't mean it. She wouldn't, right? But he decides to listen to Knife and... begins to get closer to him too. And he really finds his company enjoyable. They became good friends, Knife being there whenever he felt down, even if Knife considered himself to not be great at this type of stuff, he was still there for Pickle. But... Pickle didn't feel right even then.

He felt like something was missing. But he was moving on. He felt like he didn't need Taco anymore.

He was okay.

Until the letters came.

He didn't say anything to Knife since he felt like the poor guy was probably tired of his problems and had his own, so he kept them as a secret in the start. He threw them out the first times since he really didn't want to fall for it, but... the longer the time passed... the pain and how much he still missed her took over?

So...

Maybe just one look at them wouldn't hurt, right?

With sweet little lies (that's what Knife says), words of regret and fake hopes, Taco's letters infected his brain. Every single one of them was her apologizing and asking him if they could maybe talk it out. If they could have what they had back then. Pickle couldn't stop thinking about them.

And he kept on getting those again and again. How sorry Taco felt, how she never truly meant it and how she cared about him- how she loved her "best friend".

Pickle...

Pickle started to consider it.

So, without telling Knife anything, he writes an letter and sends it to wherever Taco might be. He says that he's willing to chat things out, but that he's waiting for an response.

And Taco... replies to the letter, actually excited, after months of writing, she got a response. So she replies with a letter that says a place and hour where they could meet.

Pickle receives the letter and... he feels... weird. This isn't what Knife told him to... this isn't what they told him to do. But... would it really hurt anyone? If he just talked things out with her? Knife didn't know her like he did... he tries to make excuses for her, even when Knife told him that he's worth much more than the treatment Taco gave him.

But even then... he still cared for Knife. Knife was his best friend too.

So he spoke to the blade one last time before going to talk to Taco, only for him to never come back again.

The chat was rather emotional,

Since Pickle thanked Knife for everything and hugged him. It didn't surprise Knife since the vegetable was usually a pretty affectionate guy once he got comfortable with someone.

He just wishes that he asked where he was going before Pickle disappeared.

Pickle found Taco in the forest, and she seemed to be just like before. But it was too good to be true, he thinks, so Taco notices that and decides to talk things out with him properly. So far, she was apologizing for basically using him, and for the things she said to him. Pickle felt his heart break at that, since even if he was... slowly healing, he still wanted to hear that coming from her own mouth.

And perhaps she meant it. Or perhaps she did not. Pickle doesn't know, but he wants to believe that she did. Pickle forgives her at the end, and Taco notices that he's in a vulnerable state. And maybe she needed him. Maybe, she noticed how attached she got to him in truth. That's why she was writing letters for months. She wanted him back at all costs.

So Taco offers him to stay with her and run away.

Of course, Pickle is fucking shocked at that, since they only worked out their things recently, and that was... so much to do, actually. He didn't want to leave his friends.

But then again. Taco wouldn't dare to lose him. Not again. Not ever. He was the only friend she truly cared about. So just before Pickle was about to decline, she quickly used an weakness of his in her favor: how naive he was and how he tried to see the good in his friends at all times.

Taco was... his best friend, and she apologized. She could have her reasons to ask him about that.

But.

Convincing someone that you're all that they need and that their friends were only lying to them out of pity isn't exactly something a friend would do, right?

Pickle told himself, "I'm just going to stay for a bit, it'll be okay",

And that bit became days.

And those days became weeks.

And those weeks became months.

And those months...

Became years.

He wasn't like good ol' Pickle anymore ever since that time passed.

Even if Taco truly cared about him in a way, she got him back.

And he's completely loyal to her thanks to her lies and manipulation.

Because no one else could truly ever care about him. Or that's how he felt.

Taco needed someone to win the prize and, who's the best option for that when your best friend is also your associate and alliance member? Someone who you know would never dare to break your loyalty.

Because you're all that they have at the end of the day.

Shoutout to @burgycreeper405-blog for helping me develop these au's too like she's a real homie love u mate you're so cool

[writethrough]

Do you ever think about what Billy’s love languages would have been if he was ever actually shown any amount of love in his life instead of abuse, abandonment and trauma? I feel like physical touch is a no brainer but also acts of service 🥲 simple things like holding his hand and making him breakfast would be unfathomable to him ugh I have so much sadness for his character and all the what ifs..

Can I go back and rewrite the ending of S3 and give him a redemption arc and a happy ending?!

You don’t understand how much I think about him and his love languages!😆

Of course, physical touch is his primary one, and I can absolutely see acts of service as well! Perhaps I should break it down from most to least important to Billy…

Physical Touch

The first time you pulled him into a hug he was tense, then he melted when you started rubbing his back. It was hard for him to pull away—from your warmth, your scent, from the way you fit against him. After that, whenever he saw you, he hugged you, and when you finally got together? All bets were off.

He always has to be touching you. A hand on your back or around your waist. His finger interlocked with yours, an arm around your shoulders, your thighs touchings, literally any type of physical contact he can think of.

But for all the times he initiates contact, his favorite is when you do it. When you touch his back to move around him, or hold his arm when you're walking downtown, or when you nuzzle into his neck when you're watching a movie. Even when you're pissed at him, you wrap your pinky around his for a few seconds, enough for him to know that he didn't mess up and that you still love him—that you're still there.

Acts of Service

Billy's not used to anyone doing anything for him. He's had to fend for himself for most things—had to protect himself. So, when one day he complains to you that his favorite shirt split at the seam, you sewed it back together. And when you told him as much, he didn't know what to say.

He whispered a "thank you" after a few moments, still in disbelief, but you waved it off and kissed him on the cheek.

He does a lot for you, too. You still remember when you caught a bug that was going around and he came to check on you with medicine, soup, tissues, and so many cough drops you still have some left. And once you fell asleep, he did the dishes that were in the sink and tidied up your apartment. He didn't say a word about it, so when you were finally feeling like you could move and left your room, you were surprised to see your place how you like to keep it.

"Did you do this?" you asked.

He shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Thank you."

He kissed your temple. "You never need to thank me."

Words of Affirmation

Billy didn't receive a lot of affirmations when he was growing up (to put it nicely). So, it took some time to get used to your compliments. Sure, he'd got a lot from the girls in high school and the guys were always quick to kiss his ass, but with you, you actually meant the things you said.

There's always a tiny shiver that goes through him when you compliment his looks, or when you greet him with "Hey, handsome." And hearing you say that you love him is one of his all time favorite things. But his favorite? When you say you're proud of him.

Quality Time

This was a toss up between Words of Affirmation, but I feel like he’s used to people wanting to be around him for their own desires, but not because they’re genuinely interested in him.

So, when you come around he’s thrown off. You actually want to spend time with him because you actually enjoy his company. You want to just be near him without getting anything in return. And it makes him crave your companionship more.

If you aren't near him, it's like he's missing a limb. He has the most fun when you're around. He laughs the hardest, smiles the biggest, and there's contentedness within him. You sooth his soul and make his rocky waves calm.

He knows that if he's spiraling or having a bad day, he can come over and sit beside you in complete silence. That you'll let him be with his thoughts until he's ready to talk to you. Hell, you spent an entire day sitting in the same room in different chairs reading, and it's in his top favorite days he's ever had with you.

Receiving Gifts

The last time Billy received a gift was from his mom. He keeps that ring on his person at all times. And to be honest, he feels unworthy and a little guilty when you give him things. That cassette he's been wanting, a sweatshirt when it gets too cold, and then there was the earring.

You'd bounded through the door with so much enthusiasm, it instantly made him smile. You sat beside him and pulled at a little box, shoving it in his hands.

"I thought we could match," you said.

His brow furrowed, then he opened it. Inside was a set of little gold hoops, much like the silver one he had.

You waited for him to answer, growing more nervous the longer he took. Maybe he didn't want to wear the same jewelry as you. Maybe he thought it was too much.

He plucked one out of the box and gestured for you to turn your head.

When you did, he slid the earring through your ear, then fit the other into his.

He pinched your chin between his fingers and pulled you in for a soft kiss.

"So you like it?" you asking, grinning.

He kissed you again. "Love it."

[iamadequate1717]

Some thoughts nearly a month later: OFMD S2 flows together nicely after the first watch. Yes, I would like more room between certain milestones, but I also remember that Ed and Stede were besties about 20 minutes after meeting and were going to run away to China together like 3-4 weeks after meeting. I also remember the first time I watched this show and the style of it.

I first watched it the second week it was out, and I watched 1x1-6 in one go, knowing nothing of it. Like I do with fanfic, I then waited for it to finish before going back in (and was in no fanspace to see the speculation), so I watched 1x7-10 two weeks later. Let me tell you, I did NOT see the romance coming! First watch, I tried to get a feel for the humor and "voice" of the show while lazily trying to figure out the overarching story and what they were building toward; I thought it was going to a bigger emphasis on the English threat (and Spanish Jackie coming back in for a larger role!). Eps 4-6, Ed had the whole "I'm gonna burn off Stede's face and steal his identity" thing going on which made every action a bit sinister and Ed/Stede interaction seemingly tied to how that was going to resolve.

Now, 7-10... ep 7 is nice. Not sure how I didn't connect Lucius' "die alone" comment to a story romance, but I'm aroace and didn't have time to think about it much as I barreled into 8-10! Ed was a fratbro in 8, but he renounced his ways, and 20 audience minutes later, he's kissing Stede and starting this whole go to China thing! Whaaaa? It is absolute whiplash on first viewing if you came in not hearing this called "the gay pirate show." (Don't get me wrong! I liked it!) They just met, they got over that whole face burning thing, and ep 7 was the only breathing room on first run to see their relationship as one more as equals, and they're just immediately going off on a gay wedding honeymoon together?

However, if you go back and watch it, you can see all the details they put into the show and how they were setting up the season payoff. It was brilliant. The show was always breakneck and had things happen offscreen (ex: how hard Ed fell, the early early flirtation of Lucius and Pete), I think. If you need reflection time for S2 events, that is what the pause button (and S3) is for.

S2, the audience really had to adjust to the more "real pirate" tone and jettison the fanon (you know, in theory!) while also absorbing the story direction and payoffs. It is a lot to take in on first watch, like S1 was. Like S1, S2 improves on rewatch, and pacing and whiplash aren't so bad.

[beevean]

Give each NFCV and Nocturne character ratings, as in scores :P

Why must you hurt me in this way.

Trevor: 7/10. A cliché personality, but enjoyable enough, and with a nice mini arc in S1. Too bad he was turned from protagonist to silly comic relief by S2.

Sypha: 5/10. She's supposed to be the plucky innocent girl, but she's just too rude and insensitive, and not even by design.

Alucard: 1/10. A cunt with a bad boob job.

Dracula: 9/10 in S1, 5/10 in S2. He started out so well in the first episode, being actually the grief-stricken monster he was supposed to be... and then he became a Stupid Old Depressed Man for the sake of propping up Carmilla. bruh.

Lisa: 4/10. Way less likeable than she appears. She's condescending towards the peasants she supposedly wants to help and she doesn't give a single shit about her only son, even preferring to let him grieve the death of his parents.

Hector: 8/10 in S2, 5/10 in S3, 2/10 in S4. Started out as a promising character with an unique worldview and genuinely morally grey. Became nothing more than a punching bag for Ellis, losing his personality and dignity in one fell swoop. Will always be remembered as the dude who fell for vampire pussy. The way he was written in S4, which was supposed to "fix" him, makes me want to destroy a house by punching it.

Isaac: 2/10. He gains some points by being the only character with a coherent character arc, even if rushed like hell. But he's still a pretentious prick who got unfairly sucked off by the story and nowhere near as "deep" as his fans tout - he was just lucky to be the only character written with respect in the shitstorm that was S3.

Carmilla: 3/10. She's like Mephiles and Starline all rolled into one unlikable OC villain who only exists to paint Dracula in a bad light. She seems like a mastermind manipulator only because everyone around her lost IQ points exponentially. She became utterly irrelevant after S2 and had a grandiose death for nothing. She could have been much more, but this is what happens when a sexist pig writes a radfem villain.

Lenore: 1/10. That one point is because she had the potential to be an interesting, fleshed out antagonist with again an intriguing grey morality. But she had the misfortune of being written by a hack who can't give his characters a consistent personality and a sex pest with a clear dommy mommy fetish, so she became rape apologism bait and now she pisses me off at sight :D

The Lesbians: who?/10. Waste of good character designs. At least Striga was used for Berserk bait.

The Japanese not-twins: 0/10. Completely pointess torture porn fodder.

St. Germain: 8/10 in S3, 5/10 in S4. Pretty enjoyable in his first appearance, and surprisingly faithful to the game counterpart in spirit. I didn't even mind his descent into villainy, in theory. But let's just say that his motivation is... lacking. and hilarious.

Death: fuck/10. He's the ShTH of NFCV.

Richter: 6/10. Not too bad? I don't understand the hatred for him. He's perfectly inoffensive, if not bland. The only line that made me go "bruh" was him correcting the girls about the meaning of "fraternity" lol

Maria: 4/10. This is not a character. This is a parody of a communist teen on Twitter.

Annette: 1/10. As I said multiple times, she doesn't feel like a character, but as carefully engineered rage bait.

Tera: don't care/10.

Abbot: 4/10. I would care about his conflict more if he wasn't the stupidest man alive. Also his Devil Forging machine sucks ass.

Cecile: 3/10. Maybe don't teach your student that she is perfectly in the right in looking down her white French friends...?

Edouard: WHEN I'M LAID/10.

Olrox: 7/10. As for now, he's fairly interesting, mainly because of his intrigue. A bit too try hard, though.

Bara Agent Stone: bro really was shocked at the abbot having a child when he was happily sticking his dick in a male vampire/10

Sun Thundercat: 0/10. By far the worst villain I've ever seen in any kind of story.

Tiddied Isaac: 4/10. I would like her more for her unapologetic style (calling it "personality" is a stretch) if she didn't expose the sheer hypocrisy in the fandom :^)

[explosionshark]

alright, notes on korrasami. also this is NAUGHT the prompt but i'm so curious if there's ever been a popular f/f ship in a fandom you were in that you hated

I DO ship Korrasami, although it took me a minute. That is - I watched s1 of LoK, fell off almost immediately in s2 and uh subsequently wrote off all the Korrasami shippers I saw after the fact as sad delusional dweebs. There were just like ZERO vibes between them in the parts of the show I watched, so when the series finale hit and I saw,.l without context, that they actually went canon I was so shocked lmao. Took a few more years before I finally watched the entire show and that's when I got it! One of the funniest examples of straight-baiting I've ever seen. But also I think they genuinely did a good job of building up Korra and Asami's relationship in s3 and onward and having them get closer and come to rely on each other in a way that felt true to the characters.

For the second question - LMAO

Okay, with Avatar on the brain, I gotta admit after the show hit Netflix in lockdown and got a second wind there was a huge uptick in Azula/Katara shippers and I just can't get into it. I've always HC'd Azula as a lesbian, but Katara feels so straight to me lmao. But even if she wasn't the last person I'd want to pair her with is Azula. Similarly, I don't like any combination of Azula and Mai - it simply bums me out too much to think about.

Honestly it's a little hard to think of other examples mostly bc popular femslash ships are pretty rare and the presence of one is usually what draws me to a fandom in the first place. If there's a popular f/f ship I think is annoying (soopercorp for klexa for example) I usually just don't hang out in that fandom. I mean I would love for this not to be the case, I'd love for competing ships but we just don't seem to have the numbers for that yet 😔

(I don't think this counts as popular necessarily but if there's one f/f ship I absolutely cannot stand that has a presence in a fandom I've been heavily involved in it's Kate Marsh/Victoria Chase from Life is Strange. Makes me want to bite and kill)

[evendumbo]

A response to this thread because comment word count is just...

The people have spoken. It wasn’t just Ted and Rebecca that crashed and burned, it was Ted Lasso itself. Before S3 ended, I decided they were doing something exciting and unique with the sitcom genre. But the show wasn’t as good as I thought it was, I was projecting based on my view that S1 was genuinely excellent and about half of the eps in S2 were very good. ("Rainbow" remains in my top 3.)

When I take off my rose-colored sunshades that I borrowed from Ted to look at the show more honestly, there were a few things I liked in S3 (Jamie’s near-perfectly written transformation, more Trent, Higgins’ and Barbara's one-liners, the cute triangle animation detour, and Juno’s performance despite so-so writing) but, dear lord, the story arc of S3 was just a poorly conceived HOT MESS OVERALL:

the total pointlessness and waste of precious story time that is Zava

the disrespectful destruction of my beloved Roy Kent

the awkward way it tried to make boat guy and Jack happen

the lack of follow through with Sassy

the flat take and pointlessness of Shandy, a rare woman of color on the show

the randomness of Michelle making a deeply unethical, emotionally fucked up choice of dating their couples therapist on the low

the iffiness of Nate’s arc (an understatement bc I heart Nick Mohammed)

Hannah’s usual stellar performance was also undermined by the writing bc it disappeared crucial context for her acting choices

even Jane Payne could have been more than a silly, emotionally punitive character given the bit of insight into her character at the end of “Beard After Hours”

The fact that they continued to both weirdly signal and then drop the ball on a Ted & Rebecca romance in S3 cut the deepest, but I see now that it was also just par for the course for the hotmessification of Ted Lasso that was S3. (Don’t @ me antis, the T/R platonic friendship writing also fell flat.)

Ted Lasso was a pop culture rocket that shot up super fast and probably way too high, then the pressure was on, then there seemed to be some painful personal fallout in the background along with the usual industry fuckery, and then the irritating season 4 will they/won’t they tension. It probably should have been predictable that all that weight would eventually break it apart.

So, I’m not sure if we wasted two years. But another way of thinking about it is that we can affirm our emotional investment in early Ted Lasso, while allowing the writers the grace to make the above regrettable errors that sadly pissed away the rich creative opportunities of S3. It was largely a bad season of television — good people who work hard can produce bad art, and then have bad faith, defensive reactions to fair questions.

Realizing this has allowed me to feel less resentful and more empathetic. With time and luck, this might eventually lead to a different emotional orientation to this weird little heartbreaker of a show.