#why i identify so damn much with Rick

[christiecandor]

(anon cause I'm nervous, im the new follower, and apparently you need more positive asks) Please DON'T stop drawing our favorite gilf, you're doing us a service by giving us more art <3 block out the haters

I appreciate this so much 😭

I wish I could express it better with words..

Drawing him is part of what little joy I get in life these days, along with being able to share it with others that feel about him and the show the way I do.

I've been going to therapy for years to try to get my depression and anger under control, but people like this don't seem to ever leave me alone, and I come from an entire family that did this kind of crap, and then gaslight me about my reactions to being treated like shit and discouraged from my interests.

You don't know how much gestures like this mean, thank you again 🫶

[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 4

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise

Summary: The group arrived at the CDC and were welcomed by Dr. Jenner, that asked just for blood samples so they could stay there. The group ate better than they have been eating in weeks and also drank a lot. Y/N and Daryl talk about the past while they share a bottle of whiskey and things get just a little bit out of control.

Warnings: swearing, little angsty, fluffy, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), a hot kiss 🥵, Minors do not interact. Nothing extremely sexual and detailed, but if disturbs you in any way it’s better not to read. Maybe some characters are ooc, idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s Sister)

Word Count: 2,877

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love. I’m consulting a timeline of everything that happened, but it can happen that I put events out of order, but I don’t think it’ll make much difference in the story. ALSO, I’m very nervous about the path this chapter went so I’d be glad if you told me what you think.

As soon as the door opened everyone entered, but there was no one. Where were the person that opened the damn door? After some minutes a man appeared, gun on his hand and he just lowered when you proved you offered no danger. His condition to give you shelter, was to take blood samples of all of you to examine. A fair price for a scientist, how could you deny?

After you picked everything you needed from the cars, the man named Jenner, closed the metal doors and you followed him to get your blood samples taken. You were not over joyed to get your blood taken, because normally your veins were pretry dificult to be found and people would end up torturing you with a needle until they found your vein.

“You’ll probably find my vein here.” You said pointing to a place one inch from your elbow. Yeah, your vein was easy found in a very strange place. “My veins are difficult to find, that’s why I’m telling you.” ‘And because torture is not my kind of entertainment’, you thought.

“Don’t worry, I’ll only do it when I’m sure I found it.” He tried to make you calm. And he didn’t lied, he really waited till he found it and then he collected your blood without much trouble or pain.

He took everybody’s sample and then took you to the kitchen. A full supplied kitchen with good food, alcohol, water and all the appropriate devices to prepare anything.

“Glenn, did we die and I didn’t notice? Cause this looks a lot like heaven.” You commented with the young man.

“If we did, I didn’t notice it too.” He replied. God! You didn’t think you would miss so much having a kitchen with all the appliances you were used to.

You prepared the food together and the drinks were served. Everybody was so happy, having a good meal, drinking and chatting. There was a long time you didn’t feel such a light atmosphere. You all joked and smiled, maybe the alcohol was helping a little.

“Hmmm, never thought I’d taste such delicious wine again.” You commented next to your brother.

“Go easy on the alcohol sis.” Rick told you, as if he knew how to drink.

“Shut up Rick, you know I can handle alcohol better than you.” You said making him have a good laughter, in no way you were a better drinker than him. “Hey! Let a woman have her dreams.” Everyone joined Rick on his laughter, brightening the room with joy.

Very reluctantly Lori gave Carl permission to taste a little of wine, and he hated, so she was happy. Glenn was getting drunk for the first time and all of you were encouraging him, even Daryl, which was really funny to see him all lose and even smiling, genuinely and openly smiling. Alcohol was a dangerous thing, but it could also show you things you didn’t know about other people, good and bad. You sneaked some appetizers to Luna, which she gladly took.

When dinner was over Jenner showed you around, there was rooms where all of you could stay, and bathrooms with hot shower. Oh my God, you couldn’t even remember the last time you took a hot bath. You claimed one of the rooms and went directly to the bath.

You took your time in the bath, washed your hair, let the hot water fall against your back and relax your muscles. It was so good, it had been only two months and you already missed this little luxuries from the old world so bad. When you finished drying yourself, you brushed your hair and put some comfortable clothes, your sleeping shorts and a tank top. Then, you missed something important, where was Luna?

You left your room and passed looking on the rooms that had the door open. You saw Carol putting Sophia to sleep and you couldn’t help, but smile. They deserved happiness and you were glad they were safe here, as you were glad you family was here too.

“Carol, did you see Luna? I can’t find her.” You asked her from the door.

“No, I just came from the rec room with the kids and didn’t see her. Maybe she’s with Rick or Shane?” She suggested, you didn’t know. You didn’t want her messing around in an unknown place.

“Ok, thanks. Gonna continuing looking for her. Have a good night Sophia! And you too Carol, rest yourself.”

“Have a good night Y/N/N” they replied.

You continued looking in the rooms that you could see open, but she was nowhere. You saw the door of Daryl’s room half opened and decided to knock, maybe he saw her somewhere.

“Come in” you heard he say, and you were not expecting the scene. He all cleaned up, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, his back on the wall, sitting in the sofa and Luna all over him.

“Am I interrupting something?” You asked playfully, Luna looked at you and swinged her tail, but she didn’t move from where she was.

“Not my fault she likes me better.” He took the bottle to his mouth all cocky.

“Seriously, I’m already thinking about giving you her custody. It’s obvious she doesn’t love me anymore.” You dramatized sitting on the sofa right next to him.

As soon as you touched the couch, she came all your way with her cold nose, and she laid on both your laps. “I think she wants to say that she likes us both.” You stated.

“Want some?” He offered you the bottle of alcohol.

“Is this even a question? Just give me the bottle Dixon.” You take the bottle and take it to your lips, whiskey was not exactly your favorite drink, but having the alcohol in your system was too good. Just not having to worry about being sober and ready to fight at any moment.

You stayed a long time in silence, just passing the bottle around and sipping from the drink. Here it was, that comfortable silence that you used to share and right now you could do it without worrying much. You rested your head back on the wall and looked at his profile, he was handsome and also cute, you felt kind of lucky for being able to take a look at this pretty serious grumpy face everyday.

“What did ya do before all this?” He asked and sipped on the bottle.

“You mean before I became a professional Zombie killer?” You joked, a bitter taste in your mouth having to talk about your failed career. “I was a vet. What about you?”

He looked at Luna and nodded like it made a lot of sense since you had Luna, but in fact anyone could have an animal. “I’d go around with whatever shit Merle was up to. In few words, I was a nobody. I had nothing as cool as you had.”

“Don’t say this. You weren’t a nobody. In fact, when it all happened, I was unemployed. So if you were a nobody, I was just like you.” Your head still resting on the wall, your eyes still on his profile and you thought how could he think so low of himself.

“Ya weren’t nobody, princess.” He turned to look at you and you swear that your heart skipped a bit when you looked in his cute baby blue eyes. “Ya just didn’t have a job.”

“So didn’t you.” He didn’t understand why you’d try to cheer him up and tell him he was more than what he actually was. Since he could remember he knew everyone thought that the Dixon’s were no good. Nobody wanted to be around his brother or him, and it didn’t change at the quarry. And why should it change now? He’d always be what he was, but you seemed to look at him with a whole different look than anybody else and you never told he was no good or a piece of shit… you mostly had good things to tell him, even when he was a dick with you.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, D.?” You looked at him and you almost could see all the gears working in his mind. You still looked in his eyes, both of your heads resting in the wall.

“Ya think I’m better than I am.” He also looked in your eyes and tried to see anything that showed you were fucking with him, but he didn’t. You were like Rick, you had honest eyes and couldn’t hide your emotions at all even if you tried. And at the moment you didn’t have any bad emotion in your face.

You wanted to say that he thought too low of himself, that he was better than he thought. You could see it, but it was not like you were good with words, and in the last 24 hours you got him upset more times than you would like, even if he was the asshole in one of them. Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but you couldn’t put yourself to look away from his face, and now your eyes wandered all over his face, from his handsome eyes, to his lips, the small freckles under his eyes and the cute mole above his lips… God! You really wanted to kiss him, and your intoxicated brain could not think straight, if you were sober you’d never have the courage you were feeling at this moment.

He was no different from you, not that he had never spent any time admiring your features, he had done it many times. Your beautiful eyes, your nose, your lips and even your jaw. God, if ever existed one, he had thought more than he would like to admit about running his mouth over your jaw, your lips… kiss, lick and even bite your neck. But before, you were never this close to him and he had never got this drunk with you or near you. He had not felt like this before, like if he didn’t touch someone or were close to someone… he wouldn’t be able to breath. He thought it was pathetic, well that was what Merle would say, because feelings was something only pussies did. The alcohol in his body talked stronger than Merle’s voice in his head, and all he could think was that your faces were a few inches from each other and that he could feel your warm whiskey breath and the smell of your clean hair, and when you crashed your lips against his, he wasn’t able to control anymore.

You pressed your lips against his and you didn’t expect he’d kiss you back, you expected him to push you away and tell you to fuck off. But once your lips were on his, he kissed you back. Your hand went to his face and caressed him, while his hand went to the back of your head pulling you closer and you couldn’t help but feel more invested into the kiss, your lips moving in sync, your tongue caressing his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but open his lips and let you deepen the kiss, take your way, do whatever you wanted to do… He was completely at your mercy and at this moment he wasn’t even ashamed of admiting it, at least for himself. It didn’t take much longer for you to part from the kiss, you needed to breath. You pulled apart slowly, forehead against forehead, heavy breaths and rosy moistured lips. You were so into the kiss that you didn’t even noticed that Luna had gone to the floor, your bodies were much too against each other and one of your legs were on top of his.

When the reality hit, of what had just happened, he pushed himself to the farthest side of the sofa from you. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have done this.” He got up and were about to leave the room, but you were faster holding his hand.

“Daryl, you can’t leave your own room.” You said getting up and trying to look into his eyes as much as it was possible standing up, since your height difference. “If someone have to leave, it must be me.” He didn’t say anything, red cheeks and trying to piece everything that just happened together. “I iniciated it. The fault is on me. Did I kiss bad? Did you not like it?”

“No, it was good. It’s not…”He tried to find his words, but his thoughts overflowed his mind while his brain separated the things he could say and the things he couldn’t. “We’re friends, friends don’t do it.” He had never called you a friend out loud, but this was the perfect time to say it instead of saying how fucked he was and how he didn’t know how to do emotions, he didn’t believe in love or that he could be loved, and how you two getting involved like this would just fuck the whole group.

“Well… when friends get drunk shit happens sometimes. Never happened to me, but… there’s a first time for everything.” You over explained a little, because you were kind of nervous. “It’s all my fault, don’t blame yourself and don’t worry too much. There was a long time I didn’t had a good kiss and you were just too cute... I’m sorry.”

“I did it too, ya don’t need to be sorry.” He averted your gaze, shy, still concerned with everything going on his mind.

“This will not change things between us, right?” You asked and he didn’t answer, still avoiding your eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had probably ruined one of the few good things you had in this shitty world. “Daryl, promise you’ll not avoid me and we’ll still be the same.”

“Ya won’t rest until I promise ya something today, aren’t ya? What is it with ya and promises?” Why were you always asking things from him? At the same time he wanted to tell you to fuck off, he wanted you to be close, at least close enough so he could keep an eye on you.

“I just don’t want things to get odd between us.” You raised your hand in between both of you, all fingers down and just your pinky up. He looked at your hand and could not believe that you were doing it. “Ok, now promise that we’ll still be friends.”

“What are ya? Five?” Who in your age made pinky promises? Why did you have to be so… vivid? “Fine. Let’s make the fucking pinky promise.”

He took your pinky in his and then you sealed it with your thumbs. “Happy?”

“Yes, now I can rest assured that we’re still friends.” You smiled and he rolled his eyes, but deep inside he felt a small warmth and oh, he was so afraid of this, because he had never felt anything like that before and he had no idea of what to do with it. “Have a good night Daryl, and thanks for the drink.”

“Luna, come on girl. Let’s go to sleep.” You called for the german shepherd, she got up from where she was laying, got a lick on Daryl’s hand and waited for him do caress her head, after it she followed behind you to your room.

You closed the door, put your back on it and slided to the floor. You could still feel his lips on yours, his hand at the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair and the heat of his body. How could you ever have a normal life after this? It could sound dramatic, but there was so long you weren’t this close to a man… Years actually, you didn’t even get on dates after Paul and he never did you feel this good as just kissing and touching Daryl made you feel. Fuck. Shane was right, you definitely had a crush on him, maybe more than this. And you Y/N Grimes didn’t do ‘more than this’, not anymore. You didn’t even do ‘less than this’.

You got up and decided it was time to go to bed and try to sleep. Luna laid by your side and you snuggled to her. “What should I do Luna?”

“Woof!” She said and gave a lick to your face.

“I already did it Luna, and I don’t know if it was the correct thing to do. I didn’t even know if he liked it.” Anyone would think you were crazy, but talking to Luna from time to time kept your sanity in place. “I’m not you, you know?”

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

Taglist: @sunnybunnyy2

[1001aus]

@wearerandomlyyours IceMav time travel au has lived in my mind for a while now. Also I have Chronic Worldbuilding Syndrome and started having thoughts about Ice and Mav telling the brass that they met at Top Gun leading to the eventual creation of the program and policies put into place that will ensure it's the same as they described (i.e. teaching positions reserved for trophy winners, being located at Miramar).

Anyway.

I Wrote A Thing.

(Disclaimer: as this au does not belong to me, I make no promises that this will be compliant with anything that may get written by randomlyyours (that is their name on ao3. go check them out) in the future. I cannot promise that this is an au they are working on at all.)

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Mike has a suspicion about Duke's kid before he ever earns his callsign.

It starts as a funny thought: wouldn't it be a laugh if Duke was named after his own son. Duke being named after his son's cover identity which was probably named after him—Mike doesn't have the clearance to know more than what he needs to so he can identify Blizzard and Wild Thing when they come to Top Gun, not even what year to expect them although he's sure it's in the files somewhere—the exact order of events makes for a chicken-or-the-egg question for when he has nothing better to do than navel gazing.

Then he hears that Pete Mitchell is rejected from the academy because of who his father was. That burns him as much for the possibility he hadn't realized he felt so strongly about as much as it does because he knows the things people say about his wingman are lies.

For a while he assumes he was wrong; that's the end of it and doesn't think about that stray idea again.

Their first class roster for the class of '86 seems to confirm that. Mike wouldn't be cleared to know about Blizzard and Wild Thing if someone high up didn't expect him to be teaching them and Iceman looks like a perfect candidate. Blizzard and Wild Thing meet for the first time at Top Gun, that's why he's read in. Hell, it's why the program exists in the first place.

None of the other pilots have callsigns that line up, but it could be Cougar if he squints. Then Cougar turns in his wings less than a week before they start and Stinger sends the only other pilot on the Enterprise worth sending.

Pete Mitchell. Maverick.

That funny thought is worth something after all.

"Well, I'll be damned."

"Mike?"

He pulls the files out of the stack and offers them to Rick. It doesn't take more than a minute for Rick to understand what he's looking at.

"So it's finally happening, huh? They look just like the pictures."

"Explains why Wild Thing flew like he had a chip on his shoulder."

"That it does." Rick snorts out a laugh. "Either the pair of them will be our best students or our worst."

Yeah, Mike's already dreading that. He still isn't sure if he should tell the kid Duke flew on his wing or if that would just make more problems. Gonna have to play that one by ear.

Mitchell's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas and Kazansky's shooting for stars. They're the only real competition the two of them have got in this class and they're sharp enough to know it. There isn't much information available on Blizzard and Wild Thing before their grand entrance to the war, but Mike's willing to bet the first impressions don't go smoothly.

"The worst. Ten bucks says."

"Pretty confident there. Sure, I'll take that bet."

(Rick gives him his winnings at the end of the first day.)

[danaredbeard]

Heath

In the auditorium, the presenter tells his audience that, through CRM Frontliner embeds living in Portland under false identities, the organization has, over the years, had operatives enmeshed in the Portland school system to facilitate an evacuation of selected children.

This is their MO. They have done this before.

All roads lead to JADIS!

Heath’s RV seen in Jadis’s junkyard. She also drives it to the pick up point where she finds a wounded Rick. These are DELIBERATE breadcrumbs

A looking for a lost person board is seen in the Commonwealth that was started at the beginning of the pandemic. Someone left a note looking for Heath. He looks to be around 12 in the photo so that matches him being in his early 20’s at Alexandria.

In this video it shows that the card should always be in the possession of the holder. So this was Heath’s card not accidentally dropped by the CRM or Jadis. This strengthens my theory that Heath was taken at the beginning of the pandemic and was eventually embedded in Alexandria.

Engage - Assess - Execute

I think this is for the A’s to assess and execute them on site.

However there seems to be an exception for PPP.!

Reclamation : The process of claiming something back or reasserting a right

So here is my theory. Heath was taken as a child at the beginning of the pandemic. He was trained and eventually embedded in Alexandria.

Beale tells Rick that the CRM has spies in selected communities throughout the continent and the world to monitor them, potentially sabotage them and influence their politics and approaches.

Now the tricky part… I think that Jadis was actually sent to retrieve Heath. This is why he pulled out his PPP card. Heath and Tara were too far away from Alexandria and the Junkyard for this to be a coincidence. (I think that there are trackers ‘RPGs” in the RVs, Heath’s and the one that Aaron used to bring the family to Alexandria. How else did the Saviors know their every move.)

Why would the CRM want him back? For the same reason Jesus (who was a spy also) made sure he wasn’t identified, he covered his head and face) when they raided the Satellite outpost. For the same reason Negan (CRM) killed Simon… they all killed fellow CRM.

Interesting that Aaron became close with both Jesus and Enid who both were killed by the Whisperers. (A tangent for another post)

Perhaps Heath knew he made a mistake because it never made sense why he would leave straight from the Satellite outpost.

Why is this important???

I think Rick had made contact with Heath at the CRM and Rick has been not a double agent but a triple agent ultimately with the unseen Heath.

The breadcrumbs are there. His connection to Heath has something to do with Esteban who I believe is dead and like Michonne, Rick just conjures him when he needs someone to talk to.

I think I have finally figured out Gimple’s “tell”… his breadcrumbs are “loose ends”. That damn truck of supplies with a pasta maker had me going for years. He spinkles all of these Checkov Gun’s throughout the series… and I think they will finally go off afte years.

Is this good writing… debatable. A large part of the TWD fanbase is barely media literate so all of this goes over their heads. I had to comeback to Tumblr because the Reddit mods kept shutting down my posts. They don’t like speculation and are not even up for a debate. That is why so many were butt hurt because Michonne didn’t die… because the big fanbases do not allow for different points of view.

I have rewatched a selective episodes to jog my memory and when TOWL get official renewed I will go back and watch all of it and the off shoots. I pretty much left after Rick and quit 100% when they had Michonne pregnant killing kids.

Back to Theory Time.

It is about bringing the story to a logical conclusion. If Rick says something like “Michonne there are things I will never be able to tell you” Believe him the first time. That is a HUGE loose end because it automatically questions well what can’t he say. That leads to Rick having deep deep secrets.

Also breadcrumbs can be themes around a character.

There was a theme of TUNNELS all around Rick. We see him trying to escape in a tunnel, we see him in the subway tunnels, he has maps of tunnels, we see a tunnel screen saver on the computer in the apartment Rick and Michonne found in ep.4.

Rick’s movements and motivations are below the surface

Even in Ep.4 Michonne got him out partially but you could see the tunnel on the computer til the end.

Which makes me think if he could come up with an escape plan for Michonne using these tunnels then why couldn’t he have used it before for himself???

Jadis questions Rick about if he has another reason to stay at the CRM……..? (breadcrumbs)

Rewatching, I think Rick answered this. When Michonne was so mad at him and threw his helmet… he was imploring her to listen and he said it over and over again. The only way to leave is to have SOMEONE ON THE INSIDE.

I think that there is someone more than Okafor. Esteban giving him the directions and code was a lie. Esteban was dead.

Someone helped him plan to get Michonne out and it was not Thorne or Jadis.

Rick had new maps, a key and he even got Michonne’s katana back.

That is definitely SOMEONE ON THE INSIDE

I am going to make another leap and connected to an earlier post there is no way Rick could have imagined the change in Judith, from curly blond hair to straight brown hair. My early theories was that it may have been Jadis giving him info to keep him from running away. But what if it was Heath? Also, Rick did ask if THEY were ok then changed it to Judith.

I think Beale was a Red Herring left playing with his sword. Someone who knew Michonne alerted Jadis immediately to the CRM to get things under control with Rick.

Is Heath “friend or foe”… not sure. I think as long as he remained 100% anonomous he was friend. I think he panicked like Jadis seeing Michonne… because that would have blown all of their covers.

[lastchancestardomm]

An unwanted info dump about my Twins headcanons (adopted or self-made) about not only them but their species as a whole.

——————————————————————————

The Twins identify as Aromantic-Asexual ;; finding no attraction to members of their own species nor any humans. The pair could not care less about the pronouns you may use for them.

Their species are hermaphrodites (meaning they have both sets of male and female genitalia).

The Twins species function somewhat like horses ;; meaning they hatch being fully capable of walking, and they have fully developed senses of sight and hearing. They also have full heads of hair, and are around the size of a toddler (the height of a 3-4 year old).

They are not "born", they hatch. The process of a Warbuxx/Lexicon birth is called a "Cracking" (like the cracking of an egg). The average amount of offspring per brood is three to six, and often the freshly cracked buds begin to tussle with one another ;; often for dominance like in some Earth avians (see Shoebill Stork, Cuckoo).

Failed hatchlings (like the Warbuxx bud) are cannibalized. In some cases, healthy singlets also fall victim to this infanticide.

Budding, much like flowering in carnivorous plants (Venus Flytrap, pitcher plant), is a sign of flourishing health in the Tourmalite species. Many times, using excess energy, their body will create an offspring/s that usually is consumed for self-explanatory reasons upon cracking. In youth, these buds are usually singlets ;; and not fully developed due to immature reproductive organs.

The Twins age far, far slower than humans. They definitely would outlive Earth and still live for epochs beyond that. That's why Ozzal is so god damn old.

** Speaking of Ozzal, he's their planet's God, pretty much. He's the oldest citizen of the planet and it wouldn't be too far-fetched to say he pioneered the planet's civilization.

There are four stages to the lifecycle of The Twins species. Infancy, Juveniles, Adolescence, and Adulthood. The Twins are currently juveniles, and when they hit adolescence they will develop and grow their mutations (horns, wings, antennae, multicolored skin, spots, ect). Then once they finally reach the adult form, the strongest member of the brood will consume the weaker broodlings ;; (this explains why Ozzal is on his lonesome and we don't hear about his fellow broodlings).

Like a reverse version of the Gazorpazorp civilization from Rick and Morty, the males of the species are more refined than that of the animalistic and feral females (have you ever seen a female of the species other than Hunter? Then again she's literally a lapdog).

Power dynamics in the world of the Twins society is determined by the size of the brood. The Triplets would be more politically powerful, as well as more socially revered than the Twins ;; not because they are older, but because their brood size was bigger. Two is closer to one than three so of course that makes the Twins a failure.

The Twins' ability of teleportation is tied to their devices! Their belt is actually what allows them to teleport using what I can only guess is alien technology.

The Twins' species have dense bones. Combined with the headcanon their planet has no water, they will sink like bricks in a swimming pool.

Their planet's lack of water leads to interesting compromises. The Twins' species doesn't require liquid sustenance ;; getting all the nutrition they need through food. Bathing and cleanliness is another poignant staple. Infants of the species take what are basically "dust baths" in powderized crystals, going into a fit as they rub off grime from themselves in the crystalline shards (see Chinchilla Dust Bath). Older members of the species are more conscious of their cleanliness, and never really have the need to bathe. Though when inevitable dirt arises, normally they have a "laser shower", which atomizes the particles of muck. There are also smaller, convenient devices similar to spray bottles that do the same thing.

The Tourmalites can get physically ill by listening to certain music. Something science-y like how the wavelengths and amplitudes hit their eardrums affects their immune system. Or maybe the lyrics they're hearing makes them sick. The Twins' preferred genre is something like techno or breakcore, I imagine. Whenever they fall ill due to music, play some The Quick Brown Fox or OMFG and they'll be right as rain!

The Twins eyes can reflect light like a cat. Though, once they grow into adolescence, they will be capable of of bioluminescing their eyes! Simply meaning that their eyes will glow when they grow up. A majority of the members of their species have glowing eyes, actually.

The Twins have hidden mandibles, like a Praying Mantis. So do The Triplets. Actually, any child of specifically Ozzal has these hidden mandibles ;; usually used for feasting.

The bones of the Twins' species are constructed of Nickel (Ni) metal. And their blood, which is green, is made of an oxidated copper-sulfur hemoglobin. The blue-green color, as well as the partial copper construction, is good for their low-oxygen atmosphere and generally cold planet. Their blood is quite thin as well, so many small cuts they might get drench everything in their green blood.

If The Twins were to pick any Earth crystal as their favourite crystal, they would pick a geode.

Their species has an unnaturally cold body temperature. Like 89°F to 91°F core body temperature, while the average human core temperature is 98°F.

The Twins are very short. Around 4"10. Barely as tall as Jared.

The typically blonde hair of their species is incredibly silky and fluffy. But I don't suggest trying to go pet them willy-nilly.

Their species hair has around four hairs per hair follicle, as opposed to humans who only have one hair. This extra hair used to be used for cranium protection, but after evolution did its thing, the hair serves as a thermoregulator for their brain ;; being replaced by horns once adolescence begins, which in themselves serve a multitude of similar purposes, still including thermoregulation.

Their planet's sun is a white dwarf star! Although, its (quite literally) blinding white color appears a pleasing cyan blue from the planet's surface. White stars are cooler than red or yellow stars, leading to a soothingly chill 99°F planetary temperature.

On Tourmalite, the days last only four hours ;; and the brightly lit nights last thirty hours. Many residents of the planet opt to snooze through the daytime hours during their rest cycles.

The Twins' planet is small, but has four rings encompassing it. The rings reflect the light from their sun, while also absorbing the heat and bouncing it around the cluster of rings ;; heating the outer atmosphere while keeping the surface of the blue-colored planet cool. The dark blue of the planet also helps insolate coolness.

Their species has multiple nipples for the exact same reasoning as cats (and most animals that are guaranteed multiples for that matter). If cats bear litters of multiples, and if the Twins' species is built on the fact that offspring come in multiples, why not?

As I've said before, the Twins' species are hermaphrodites ;; albeit with specialized genitalia unique to their species, like most earthly hermaphrodite animals do. Surprisingly, they reproduce asexually, (basically by cloning themselves, and the Twins look like Ozzal when he was young). The extra reproductive organs exist for convenience sake, as their species is ovoviviparous ;; (producing young by means of eggs which are hatched within the body of the parent and proceed to be born).

When seminated with genetic material, the typically asexual Tourmalites will lose their self-impregnating capabilities ;; and lose the capability to bear offspring. This process is archaically known as "Dominating", and to be dominated lessens one's credibility.

The Twins favourite Earth drinks would either be lava lamps or glowsticks. Lava lamps, to them, is just hot water with jelly floating in it to eat. Glowsticks change flavor based on the color, and they usually bite off the tops and then drink the fluid. As for an Earth drink that humans can consume, the answer lies within the famed McDonald's Sprite ;; so fizzy, so tangy, and it sizzles in your mouth and down your throat. An extra metallic aftertaste due to the soda machine nozzle is only the icing on the cake to the Twins.

Their favourite Earth food? Crayons. Simple and plain. Tastes like how eating plain butter is to humans. Except, the Twins enjoy it because they are weird like that. Other than crayons, Sharpies could also pass as a favourite food ;; their favourite part is to naw on the felt-tip after leeching out all of the ink. As for a favored Earth food edible to humans? They'd say Pixie Sticks. Especially the sour ones. So bitter and sour that the acids for the flavoring could break down the tongue meat if a foolish human is not careful. A perfect mixture of sourness and a tangy candy-like sweetness that hooks the Twins onto this pleasly Earth candy.

The Twins favourite movie they've seen on Earth is Alien. They watched it because, by definition to Earthlings, they themselves were considered aliens. They ended up enjoying it instead of being scared, and they giggled like schoolboys every time the xenomorphs terrified the space crew.

The Twins favourite video game is Tetris. Any version. Both of them are Tetris kings. But god forbid you play a board game with them. Both of them are cheaters and will gaslight you into quitting instead of playing to completion.

The Warbuxxian ascension to adulthood is achieved through a rite of passage known as the Ceremony of the Xorvuẋ. The Overlord oversees the ceremony, in which the maturing broodlings partake in a battle to the death ;; the victor will consume his/her or their weaker broodlings, and be rewarded with a formal adult name.

I think that the Twins ;; no, their entire species, would have a FIELD DAY with a plasma globe (all credit to this goes to twinfanatic ;; the post this was taken from I have since reblogged ;; all credit goes to twinfanatic)

The Twins would sit catatonic and watch a Dream Lite pillow pet projection for hours ;; completely mesmerized by it for fun.

The Twins cannot read. They are unable to recognize either of their homeworld languages nor can they read in English. They enjoy comic books though.

The Twins are polyphasic sleepers (resting in multiple shifts of sleep throughout twenty-four hours). They also sleep in the same bed, and one has a habit of rolling out of it. The other will usually be able to grab him before they hit the ground, while staying fully asleep though.

Not only do the Twins (and their species at large) sink like bricks in water ;; they'll turn into something of a wet cat. Their fluffy and thick hair gets drenched ;; weighed down by the water, and their skin becomes semi-transparent when submerged. While on Earth, the Twins picked up a habit of shaking off like a dog whenever they get wet.

Whenever the Twins blush, their pale faces will get a green tint due to their green blood (although once they get older and their skin gets pigmented, they will no longer have the ability to blush).

The Twins have residual trauma relating to Hunter, so whenever they hear the word, "hunter", they will get very paranoid and may even look around in suspense ;; when they were young, the Triplets would sick her on them as a cruel prank, and sometimes she would successfully leave the pair with scars. Tsk, older brothers.

** Ozzal was from a brood of four. Though, as he was the strongest of them, he consumed his three other broodmates in order to metamorphosize ;; less he would never be able to become a matured ruler, and Ozzal wouldn't want that.

When a ruler, or Warbuxxian of royal blood, has entered adulthood and has consumed his/her or their broodlings ;; it is considered a sign of good fortune for the followers of whomever had conquered the planet. Late-bloomers or those hesitant to metamorphosize are often deemed unworthy rulers, and are exterminated by their followers. Whomever has slain the former ruler gains a royal status by proxy.

The Twins have a slight allergy to limes. Something like a pollen allergy. The smell of limes sends the pair into sneezing fits ;; and if they consume a lime, their throats will get hoarse. It's a benign allergy and it causes zero harm to them, although it is quite annoying.

The Twins' favorite holiday is Halloween. They blend in perfectly amongst costumed children, and tend to pull a variety of pranks on the neighborhoods they visit each year ;; pranks that range from toilet-papering homes, to setting a Superjail creature loose unto a community.

If you recall, I have said that one of the Twins' favorite Earth drinks is lava lamps ;; on their planet, they have a common soda-like drink that is similar-looking to lava lamps. The drink is mainly a flavored (almost all sugar) water, with a pH close to that of battery acid. The top is popped like marble soda, which fizzes the drink.

On the Twins' planet, there is a powder drug similar to cocaine, and is extremely close to the PopRocks candy here on Earth ;; it sizzles when it contacts a liquid and tastes sweet (at least to us humans). Shockingly, normal PopRocks candy does not cause any kind of drug-like effect on the Twins' species. It seems the core composition of both are highly different, despite the obvious similarities.

The Twins think that banana LaffyTaffy is the best flavor of LaffyTaffy. The Triplets, and the rest of Earth, promptly disagree (and the other one of the two ;; he prefers grape LaffyTaffy, but don't tell his brother that).

The Twins cannot handle high temperatures at all. Temperatures any higher than 97°F will cause them to feel uncomfortable, almost as if their skin is crawling. Their species doesn't have sweat glands, rather they have chromatophores (special skin cells that change colors ;; in this context, the chromatophores change colors when they hit puberty like how a baby's hair melanizes when it gets older). The Twins themselves also hate H²O, and they most likely will end up fainting if they aren't cooled off quickly.

The Twins are king Geometry Dash players. They found the game through discovering the soundtrack, and absolutely smoshed the game when they played it ;; all of the levels are complete and they've finished nearly all of the achievements. Their favourite level is Clutterfunk (for both the level design and music).

During a "transitional period" between the juvenile and adolescent stages of the Twins' species lifetime, the changes to both their anatomy and mental fortitude are monumental. The chromatophores will begin to act up and change color, causing their skin to become dry and flaky, and their thick hair will start shedding in favor of horns. They also will begin to have their reproductive organs mature, where the organs do a form pupating ;; the abdominal wall ferments (as if it was a chrysalis) while the reproductive organs break down into what are basically stem cells (imaginal cells), and then reconstruct into a more apt form better to bear offspring with. The entire process of this "puberty" lasts around two to four months.

** Ozzal had encountered Earth once before in his lifetime, during its Age of Exploration. Ozzal watched as Earthlings ruined everything for their own gain, only to die a meaningless death after killing hundreds of natives who've lived there longer than their own family lineage. Yeah, it wasn't a good first impression. When he gifted the Twins his map of the galaxy before they left for their year of vacation, Ozzal censored Earth ;; not wanting his sons to ever meet, let alone interact with such barbarians. But the Twins being the Twins, they headed straight for Earth after noticing the map would deny them the coordinates to the blurred-out dirt planet. Now, the Twins have lived on Earth for nearly ten years, and don't plan on leaving for home any time soon.

The Twins' species has, on average, 124 chromosomes, and four of those are sex chromosomes (as opposed to us having only two). Those four are a repeating chain of Z (""male"") chromosomes and W (""female"") chromosomes. Depending on which chromosome is dominant in the chain, the bud will be the predetermined sex (Z = calmer with shorter hair, masculine ;; W = more belligerent with longer hair, feminine). The gene splitting is simpler ;; the genes of the budder will duplicate and generate a bud.

Other than aforementioned slight behavioral differences, and a difference in hair length ;; the Warbuxx/Lexicon species is very androgynous. Sexual dimorphism didn't seem to touch their species genetics, and so human sexual dimorphism is quite repulsive to them. So breasts, larger hips, facial hair, (and quite obviously separated brows) are seen as "ugly" features.

The Twins' species have prehensile tongues covered in little serrated papillae ;; originally used for scraping meat off the bones of carcasses back in prehistoric times on their planet. Now, the papillae is mostly a novelty, and isn't as useful as it once was.

Reiterating the prehistoric times on their planet, ancient Warbuxxes (the Twins' species) looked similar to the modern versions ;; except they were scrawnier, naked, and looked somewhat like a hairless cat (minus some blonde locks they had on top of their head). They were yeigh height of a Golden Retriever, with a pathetic naked tail. Being semi-bipedal, and those with more drastic mutations were considered more attractive.

Humans used to have a conjoined browline to prevent excessive sweat from getting into our eyes while exerting ourselves ;; though evolution had taken it out after we found out how to automate certain physical processes and how to store coolness. The Tourmalites, who've had a similar evolutionary history to us despite our species "youth", have never lost their conjoined browline due to the species lack of the ability to sweat. With no sweat, there was nothing that ever could get into their eyes in the first place, so the unibrow is more of an accessory feature.

Their species is collectively all called "Tourmalite" (the namesake uncreatively coming from their homeworld (see Yautja, Yautja Prime). Other than the Warbuxxes, though, there is another subspecies under the name as well. The subspecies are called "Lexicons", and they are more insectoid than whatever animal-like things the Warbuxxes are, though Lexicons are still basically the exact same thing. Lexicons usually have mandibles instead of prominent fangs, and often develop speckles when they mature. Some other Lexicon-exclusive mutations can be extra limbs, antennae, or nose spikes. Either species has horns, although Warbuxxes have rounder, more nubby horns than Lexicons ;; but, Warbuxxes are taller when fully grown. Long ago, far back in their ancient history, the Warbuxxes had acted on tensions over the crystalline groves (which are much like Earth rivers and deltas) and declared war on Lexicons ;; pushing them to the brink of extinction. Nowadays, while Lexicons are fewer in numbers, they seemed to have rebound.

Lexicons have a specially venomous bite, with the ammonia-like venom stored in their mandibles. It is a one-use only defense, as the fangs instantly snap off (see Bee stings, Porcupine spines). The ammonia-like properties of the venom causes immense pain at the site of the bite and prevents healing, while also letting bacteria flourish.

The count of horns for either Tourmalite species (Warbuxxes/Lexicons) is determined by the brood size squared. The Triplets, for example, have six horns bored upon their heads. The Twins will grow in four horns ;; and so on.

Buds are more generally considered "parasites" until only a few hours before hatching. This comes from their species' general lack of empathy to pretty much anything else except their broodling\s.

"Romantic" relationships between broodlings are quite common in Warbuxxian (and Lexiconian) society ;; cuddling, on-the-lips kissing, fussing over one's broodling if they do not feel well, ect. Though having sexual conduct with one's broodling(s) is strictly forbidden, and is considered a high-tiering crime ;; often leading to the entire broods execution.

Pile cuddling is very helpful for the mental wellness of a brood. Often times, in family groups with more than one brood ;; younger broods will mix together into one larger pile, which is healthy behavior. As for the Twins and the Triplets, the elder brood often bullied their younger set.

The atmosphere of the Warbuxx/Lexicons home world (the planetoid being dubbed Tourmalite) does not consist of gaseous molecules like our atmosphere ;; rather, it is small particles, or shards, of the elements (see Tear Gas). When these particles collect, instead of turning into a cloud or puddle, it will form a conglomerate crystal. In groves these crystals will form, and it is a staple of the Tourmalite species.

The Tourmalites have acidic gas molecules in their lungs, which deconstruct the tiny crystalline fragments that make up the atmosphere on their planet. Cu, C⁰2, CH⁴, H, and Ne are some of the molecules that make up the crystal fragments they breathe in.

The act of conquering a planet and achieving a "royal" status is very straightforward, actually. The tradition of allowing juveniles to go vacationing for a year is similar to job-shadowing, where those older than them demonstrate which planets are the most favourable to conquer. Once hitting adolescence, the pubescent Warbuxxes will be sent away to go conquer other planets, and be basically exiled from their home planet ;; risking severe ridicule and a tainting of their lineage if they were to return without Overlord status. A planet is considered "overthrown" if the native species is deemed extinct, and it has had the respective subspecies-centric makeover. Followers of the adolescent Warbuxxes are encouraged to move and live on the newly conquered planet. Though, it takes at least the conquering of seven planets by adulthood to consider a member of the species "royal". Lexicons are excluded from this metric, as the subspecies doesn't have a monarchy system ;; rather, having Houses of Power or the like who control laws and such, and less so the public at large.

** / ** Ozzal has conquered nearly 453 planets, both inside and outside the Milky Way galaxy ;; an extremely exceptional feat for someone his age. The Triplets have conquered almost 5 planets, and counting. The Twins, whom are the youngest, have not conquered any planets at all.

In order to replace a royal, he/she or they must be killed off. Those who do not succeed in terminating their Overlord are publicly considered weak ;; although, royals are expected to withhold a sliver of respect for the delinquent citizen, just for the gutsyness.

The Twins species has blood constructed of a sulfur hemoglobin ;; giving their species the green tone in their blood. A blood plasma equivalent is Osmium tetrasulfide ;; an "inorganic" compound of Osmium salt and hydrogen sulfur acid, that is dark brown in color.

Even if their calendar is utmost different from ours, the Twins home planet had faced the Gemini constellation on their cracking day ;; which, in turn, makes the pair gemini's (see what I had done there? they're gemini's, The Gemini Twins, the Twins ;; haha).

The Twins' homeworld of Tourmalite has two languages commonly spoken there ;; tonics and intone. Tonics is quite similar to Pig Latin here on Earth, though the predicate is to be placed before the subject. Tonics is also the commoner's tongue, spoken by almost all citizens. Intone is quite different from tonics, and is quite complex. Intone is the "King's English" of Tourmalite, only being spoken by royalty or those in high power.

[mx-mongoose]

Wanna see me overanalyze the Portal Musical Part 2

Okay look- I used to not like Geekender’s interpetation of Glados and while I haven’t lost all of my old gripes with them, there is so much I appreciate the more I rewatch the musical.  This is basically me going over how “I’m Alive” and portions of “Poor Unfortunate Subjects” give Caroline some sense of justice after all the shit she went through.  

If you want the part 1 of my analysis on the Portal 2 musical about the three corrupted cores, then here it is!

OKAY BEFORE WE START I FEEL THE NEED TO SAY- While the interpetation wasn’t perfect, GOD WAS GLADOS AND ESPECIALLY CAROLINE SO GOOD IN THE MUSICAL.  She is so underrated and I mean that with my whole heart.  The clothes designs, the actoress playing completely opposite characters and absolutely crushing both of them (Fuck you, the actoress is amazing and did her best with a monotone yet also emotional robot, her singing is also fantastic) and JUST AH- I LOVE HER

anyway

Before Glados, there was Caroline.  She was basically the braincell of Aperture all things considered.  She was the backbone and heart of Aperture, making sure everything ran efficiently and was Cave’s logical anchor.  While she was peppy and unassuming, in the 2021 Musical Reunion it was stated she was also very complicit in Aperture’s more dangerous and morally ambiguous actions.   So she’s definitely not the oblivious dainty pretty assistant stereotype that many in universe and in reality percieve her to be.  There’s a reason why she’s Cave Johnson’s assistant and why he wanted her to be CEO of Aperture after he died.  (I mean in “Trouble in Black Mesa” she is literally seen threatening a random woman with a portal gun over Cave)

She also has a backbone for herself as well!  Standing up for herself on numerous occasions, even against Cave himself, because she knows her worth and knows how she should be treated.  

So after the whole Rick fiasco, you could tell she’s sick of constantly being undermined and demeaned by her male coworkers and why she was already done with Cave the moment she stepped through the door.  Him going on about how important she is to the company, even though the company rarely shows gratitude for that importance and all she does.  Cave interuppting her whenever she spoke up was definitely the nail in the coffin before the “I need you!”. More nails are hammered in with the fact Cave literally GROPED CAROLINE’S THIGH AND IS SOMETIMES SHOWN TO TREAT HER LIKE AN OBJECT THROUGH THE SCENE (through snippets of dialogue and choreography).  Good forshadowing for her becoming Glados against her will and Cave’s betrayal.  But ugh.... I just feel horrible for her.  She was in love with Cave because he was the only one who gave her any damn respect but by the end he just treated Caroline just as bad if not worse then her coworkers.  

Even if its not forshadowing and is literally the reveal, the- “Please listen to me, sir, I don’t want this,” and Cave just refusing Caroline’s own autonomy, it’s just... ugh.  Great metaphor for toxic relationships but just... ugh.  

(I need to make a whole new post about Cave in the future cuz he is... Certainly somebody)

Caroline is the purest example of a victim of toxic relationships and abuse, especially regarding people who are woman identifying and presenting.  The only person she thought she could trust and love, stabbed her in the back and killed her.  

Now we have present day Glados and while she doesn’t have memory of being Caroline, when you rewatch “I’m Alive” and “Poor Unfortunate Subjects”, even though it’s the very beginning you feel a sense of vengeful justice for Caroline.  

In “I’m Alive”, she’s shown to have a physical “Force-Like” control over Chell, Wheatley and the corrupted cores.  Having them being stripped of their autonomy so they can bow down to her, worship her, treat her as the important badass figure she always was.  Of course, this is probably a metaphor for the repeating cycle of abuse but the other thing is the people she inflicting this control on in narative 

Chell, somebody who killed her and destroyed the facility

Wheatley, somebody who would later take over the chassis/the facility and shove her into a potato

Rick, somebody from when she was Caroline, being one of the coworkers who would hit on her and infantilize/demean her.

Fact, being one of the scientists who dragged her to be hooked up to Glados

Then Space, who arguably did nothing to her, but also doing nothing and being a witness is also a very shitty thing to do to someone since he was there when Rick was hitting on her. 

These are all people who have or she considered to have wronged her in the narrative.  So her rising from literal ashes and doing the musical equivalent of “DO NOT FUCK WITH ME” has me cheering for her throughout this scene.

In Poor Unfortunate Subjects, the way she has the corrupted cores act as her henchmen and them *specifically* being scared shitless of her is just *chefs kiss* karmic justice even though no-one remembers anything.  Also the “TEST US GLADOS PLEASE” is hilarious and also very satisfying seeing how they treated Caroline before they were shoved into computers.

SO YEAH- Glados and Caroline are amazing and deserved so much better and i’m glad she can finally do science in peace without anymore bullshit

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About The Mitchells vs. the Machines

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier is up there as one of the best installments of the MCU. Sure, the action and CGI sucks, and the season finale could use a bit more polish, but there is so much more of what it does right. It brings up an engaging discussion through Karli; the bromance between Bucky and Sam is incredible; Zemo's surprisingly a riot, and U.S. Agent is a character whose inner psychology is something I would like to study. Plus, the series really dives deep into the themes of race and the realistic hesitance that comes with making a black man Captain America. It's easily an 8/10 series that is worth an in-depth discussion.

But f**k that s**t, because I'm talking about The Mitchells vs. the Machines instead!

I know it might be questionable that reviewing a movie starring a predominantly white family of idiots saving the world instead of the TV series about the powerful journey of a black man taking the mantle of an American icon...but this movie is fun, alright? And yes, I'm going to spoil it to explain how. So if you still have a Netflix account, I highly suggest you check it out when you have time.

Because, random people on the internet who most likely won't read this, this Ordinary Schmuck who writes stories and reviews and draws comics and cartoons is going to explain why The Mitchells vs. the Machines might just be my favorite film of the year (steep contest, I know).

WHAT I LIKE

The Animation: Let's get this out of the way right here and right now: If a single person ever tells you that this movie has awful animation, or the worst animation they have ever seen, just go ahead and assume that person is an idiot. Because holy hot cheese sticks, does this movie look amazing!

Say what you want about most of Sony Pictures Animation's movies, but you have to admit that they nail making a CGI movie looking like it could be in 2D. And The Mitchells vs. The Machines is the peak of that style. Every character in nearly every frame looks like they could work well if the movie was hand-drawn, and I love it. I am addicted to seeing films that look 2D with a 3D makeover because there has to be ten times the amount of effort to get that look just right, what with modeling each character in unique ways to nail that style wherein a hand-drawn film, you could just, well, draw it. Not to mention that the cell-shading and certain hand-drawn elements also add to the aesthetic.

Plus, there is so much attention to details, such as most of Katie's character model being covered in sharpie, or how you can see a hint of Eric and Deborabot 3000's drawn on faces even though their black screens are showing something else. Seriously, you can listen to any criticism this movie gets, but don't you dare let someone get away with telling you that it looks awful. It doesn't. It's incredible, and I SO wish that I could have seen it all on the big screen.

The Comedy: On top of being incredibly well-animated, this movie is also incredibly funny. Like, really funny. I shouldn't be surprised since it's made by the same people responsible for Clone High and The Lego Movie, but yeah, I found myself laughing, chuckling, and snorting with nearly every joke in the film. Not every joke works, to be fair. But because of the fast-paced humor, the bad jokes are almost immediately followed up with better ones soon after. What's even better is that the writers know when to take a break with the humor and let some surprisingly compelling drama take over. And even then, when there are jokes during the dramatic moments, they add sincerity to the scene rather than take anything away. Looking at you, The Amazing World of Gumball...I mean, I love you, but sheesh, you need to learn to let a solemn moment play out.

Anyways, the comedy is hilarious. And while I won't spoil every joke, I will go over some bits that might have gotten to me the most.

Katie Mitchell: Let's just go ahead and add Katie Mitchell to the list of characters I highly relate to on a personal level (which is getting longer by the minute, hot damn). But jokes aside, I really like Katie. Her love and desire to make movies is something I identify with, and her goal to just go to a place where she feels like she belongs is easy to understand. Trust me, if I found out there was a group of weirdos who like the same things I do and enjoy the things I make, I’d be willing to pack everything I have and go to them as fast as possible too. Plus, I feel like a lot of us can relate to a character who lives in a household where people question if our career goal is something we can make a living with. I remember two years ago when I told my aunt that I wanted to make my own animated series, and her reaction is a little too similar to Rick's when Katie showed him her movie. They mean well, but sometimes it's for the best to have a cheerleader rather than a critic, especially if that person is family.

Now, Katie isn't perfect as her enthusiasm can get a little annoying at times, and her desire to leave can be conceived as a little too harsh as well. Still, she's pretty cool and serves her role as a protagonist pretty well...also, if the movie gets a sequel, let's hope she and Jude become cannon by then. GIVE KATIE A GIRLFRIEND, DAMN IT!

Aaron Mitchell: But as great as Katie is, it's this goober that earns the reward for my favorite character. At times it looks like Aaron is nothing more than a source of comedy, but he handles some dramatic moments really well. Partial credit goes to Michael Rianda for that one. Yeah, having a child actor would have made Aaron sound more like a kid, but no other voice could have fit him better than what Michael offers as he comes across as weird but never obnoxious.

Also, let's give the writer points for making a character who is clearly neurodivergent. Yet also refraining from having him be annoying or useless to the rest of the cast. No one ever really disrespects or belittles Aaron and instead chooses to work with him rather than against him. Especially Katie, who forms a solid sibling bond with Aaron as a fellow weirdo. It's genuinely sweet to see, and I loved every minute that the writers showed that just because someone acts on a different wavelength doesn't mean they shouldn't be treated any less because of it. You get that with Katie, a little bit, but I see it much more with Aaron, for some reason. And I love him every minute, so that’s a win.

(Plus, I may or may not have had a dinosaur phase when I was younger, so go ahead and add him to the list of relatable characters too.)

Rick Mitchell: This is probably a character you will either love or hate, and I can see both sides of that argument. Because on the one hand, I really like Rick Mitchell. His motivation is clear and understandable from the first set of home videos with him and Katie, both near the beginning and the end. Sure, he messes up a lot, but he is still a man who cares deeply about his daughter, as well as his entire family. He gets to the point where he would make great sacrifices for all of them, especially Katie. Plus, it's just pleasant seeing a cartoon dad who isn't a complete idiot or overprotective regarding his daughter's love life.

However, there are times when Rick comes across as an irresponsible d**k. When he does things like smash the family's phones without telling them or giving them screwdrivers for "presents," you're either gonna find that funny or you won't. Personally, I enjoy Rick and his antics, and I have no problem with irresponsible cartoon dads. As long as they don't cross the line toward Modern-Peter Griffin territory, I've got no problem with dads like Rick, who I believe has never even got that bad. Still, some people might think differently, and I can't blame them. Because after getting great cartoon dads like Greg Universe, I can understand if some people won't be interested in characters like Rick Mitchell.

Rick’s and Katie’s relationship: Alongside the top-notch animation and gut-busting comedy, Rick and Katie's relationship is what I consider the movie's most essential asset. These two are the main characters of the film, and as such, they develop through each other. And what's crazy is that they have very conflicting goals. Katie wants to escape and be with her people, where Rich just wants one last chance to have a good memory with Katie before she leaves. To do so, they first have to understand each other. Katie has to learn why Rick is so desperate to spend time with her, and Rick has to realize why Katie is, well, Katie. What I love most about it is that they try. These two don't spend the entire movie arguing and being at each other's throats until a sudden "Oh" moment in the end. No, there are actual moments when they genuinely try to understand one another and fix their relationship. It's nice to watch, and I especially love when it cuts to Linda and Aaron celebrating each time Katie and Rick get closer to each other. When recommending this movie, I'd say come for the animation and comedy, stay for the phenomenal relationship building.

Monchi: There are probably people already comparing Monchi to Mater or the Minions due to being a comic relief with nothing else to add...but gosh dangit, do I love this little gentleman. Maybe it's because I'm a dog person, but I find Monchie to be incredibly adorable, and I will fight anybody who disrespects this king of kings. Probably not physically, 'cause I'm a wuss, but I will verbally. So WATCH IT!

“HeLlO. i Am DoG.”: Have I mentioned that this movie is funny?

Rick’s videotapes of him and Katie: And right there. Rick's motivation for everything is set in stone through a solid case of visual storytelling.

PAL: The writers do almost everything they should have with this character. PAL might not have the most creative evil plan in the world, but to me, a villain can have a generic scheme as long as they're funny. Thankfully, PAL is funny. Not only is the idea of a smartphone ruling the planet hilarious in all the right ways, but Olivia Colman delivers such a great cynical energy that the character needs. The way PAL reacts to people explaining why humans are worth living is just the best, and her flopping around in a fit of rage successfully gets to me.

If I had to nitpick, I'd say that I wish PAL had more of a meaningful resolution to her character. The movie builds up that she makes a big deal about Mark dropping her, so it feels weird that neither of them really get any actual closure with each other. I'll get more into that in the dislikes, but I wish PAL had more of a fitting end than just dying after accidentally getting dropped in a glass of water. Other than that, she's a great comedic villain for a comedic movie.

PAL MAX Robots: These guys are the funniest characters in the movie. Half of it is the bits of visual humor, while the other half comes from the solid line delivery from Beck Bennett. Especially with Bennett's and Fred Armisen's Eric and Deborahbot 3000. These two are definitely the comedic highlights, as nearly every line they say is both hilarious and kind of adorable at times. And just like with Monchi, if you dare disrespect these characters, I will fight you. Because they are funny, and I will not hear otherwise.

PAL demonstrating what it’s like to be a phone: Have I mentioned that this movie is funny?

(Don't disrespect your phones, kids. Otherwise, they'll try to take over the world.)

PAL turning off the Wi-Fi: Again, have I mentioned this movie is funny?

“I love the dog. You love the dog. We all love the dog. But at some point, you’re gonna have to eat the dog.”: It's the sick jokes that get to me the most. Everyone booing Rick afterward is just the cherry on top.

Attack of the Furbies: Have I. Mentioned. That this movie. Is funny?

Seriously, if you haven't lost your s**t during every second of this scene, then you never had to deal with the demonic entity that is a Furby. In a way, I commend you. But you also don't get to appreciate the comedic genius of all of this. So I also weirdly feel bad for you.

The Mitchells deciding how to celebrate: You don't have a real family if you spend more time arguing about how to celebrate after saving the world than you do about how to save the world. I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

The PAL MAX Primes: There's not much to say about them. The PAL MAX primes look and act pretty cool, are brilliantly animated, and raise the stakes while still being funny at times. I love 'em, but I don't have much to analyze with them either.

The origin of the moose: ...I'd make the "I didn't need my heart anyway" joke, but to be honest, it's still shattered after WandaVision.

(For real, though, this is a really effective scene that establishes why Rick makes a big deal with the moose and why he might feel hurt that Katie is willing to disregard it completely)

The Theme of Technology and Social Media: There's a theme about how family is important, and working hard on making things work is worth the effort. But that's a bit too generic for my tastes, so instead, I'm gonna talk about the equally important message this movie has about technology. Because as twisted as she is, PAL makes a great point. The technology we have today helps us in a variety of ways. It's especially useful with sites like YouTube, allowing content creators like Katie to reach out and share their voices. The only issue with technology is how people use it. Take note that the main reason why the Mitchells stand a chance against PAL is by using her own tech against her. Yes, over-relying on all the advancements around us can be dangerous, but if we're smart with how we use them, we can get by just fine. This movie isn't about purging all technology like most robot apocalypse stories are. Instead, it's about using it correctly and not being helpless sheep the second the Wi-Fi gets turned off. Which might just be the most unique thing this movie has going for it story-wise (more on that later).

The Climax: The Mitchells vs. The Machines has everything that I think I climax should have. First off, it utilizes callbacks and jokes that I wouldn't have thought twice on actually coming in handy for how the Mitchells win the day. But showing that Monchi causes the robots to malfunction turns a pretty "eh" joke into a solid case of foreshadowing.

Second, everyone does something. Some characters do more than others, sure, but the fact that every Mitchell, even Monchi, has a hand in beating PAL and her robots is a great sense of writing to me. It shows that you really can't cut anyone from the main cast, as they each add value to how they are essential to the plot. Even Aaron, who arguably does the least in the climax, still manages to be the catalyst to what is easily the best scene in the movie. Speaking of which...

Linda Kicks Ass: By the way, that's the actual name on the soundtrack. I'm not even kidding. Check it.

Anyways, for the most part, Linda seemed like a decent cartoon mom. She's insanely supportive but still has the common sense to keep her foot down, like agreeing with Rick to stay safe in the dino stop the second the apocalypse starts. A pretty fun character, for sure, but nothing too noteworthy...but the second she loses her s**t, Linda Mitchell frickin' SKYROCKETS to the best-cartoon-mom territory! Believe me when I tell you that seeing her slice and dice robots like a middle-aged female Samurai Jack is as awesome as it is hilarious. Does it make sense how she can suddenly do this? No, but at the same time, who gives a s**t about common sense?! Because this moment was epic, and I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching it over and over again.

Rick Learning How to Internet...Again: I consider this the funniest moment in the movie. Trust me, the Furby scene is a close, close, CLOSE, second...but I think this scene was funnier.

The final goodbye: This is what I'm talking about when I say humor adds to the dramatic moments. The Mitchells saying "I love you" in moose is pretty funny, but it's also a sweet moment given that this is absolutely how this family of weirdos would say goodbye to each other. And, yeah, I got a little misty-eyed during this scene. Especially when Rick saw Katie pocketing the moose. That s**t just cuts deep, man.

Alex Hirsch Voices a Character: ...That's it. I look up to Alex Hirsh as everything I want to be as a creator, and the fact that his name is on this movie fills me with joy. He's also a story consultant, so that can also explain why the movie turned out as great as it did...although there are some imperfections.

WHAT I DISLIKE

Katie-vision: What's Katie-vision? Well, throughout the movie, we get to see how Katie views the world as there are these hand-drawn elements that look like effects Katie would add if she was the one who made the movie. At times it can be subtle and cute, like when this little beating heart appears when Katie is talking with Jude and her other friends. It's when the movie is in your face with Katie-vision does it get annoying. Like showing how Katie is lying about being certain she can drive up a vertical ramp or signifying what is the Rick Mitchell Special. Even if you justify that this would be how Katie would edit the movie, it still doesn't change how obnoxious these moments can be. For instance, Monchi is justified to be essential for the plot, but that doesn't mean people won't hate him...I'll still fight them if they do, but that's beside the point.

I can totally accept this being a personal issue, as I'm sure some people enjoy it. As for me, I think Katie-vision works best when used subtly instead of crudely.

The Meme humor: It's something similar here. Because some people like meme humor...but I don't. To me, it just dates your story if you reference memes even once. Now, a show, movie, or book being partially dated is nothing new. We Bare Bears, a series that I love, reference memes, apps, and social media constantly. Yet, the show still has a timeless feel to it as it doesn't rely on those references too much. The Mitchells vs. the Machines doesn't rely on memes as much either. But even then, that doesn't make a difference about how annoying that gibbon monkey joke was. Seriously, what the f**k was that? And how is THAT the joke that gets used twice!?

Underutilizing Mark Bowman: It really bothers me how this guy barely does much. I mean, Mark Bowman is the main reason that anything happens in the movie. Because he mistreated PAL, Mark acts as the catalyst for events to come. So the fact that he could have been written out the second PAL takes control doesn't make sense to me. It's worse since I could see more potential with his character through his relationship with PAL. These two could be anti-Rick and Katie, as Mark and PAL show what happens when people disrespect their family. So separating them halfway through the story, and keeping them as such, is a huge mistake as it results in neither having a proper resolution to their arcs. Like I said, Rick and Katie develop through each other, and the same could have happened with Mark and PAL. It doesn't, making it something that I can't help but feel disappointed about.

The Poseys: These are characters I feel like work better with multiple appearances. Sure, they only have the one joke about being a perfect family, but at the same time, you can make a joke like that work. Look at Yvonne from Shaun of the Dead (Which might just be my favorite movie). That's a bit-character whose only purpose is showing how better she is than Shaun despite being in an eerily similar situation. But she works well as we constantly see how great she's doing in every instance we see her. The same could be done with the Poseys, as using a similar joke for one scene is underutilizing great potential to make an already good movie into a better one.

Plus, if you're gonna shoehorn in a romance between Aaron and Abby Posey, the least you could do is have more than one scene developing that...just saying.

Katie’s and Rick’s “Oh” Moments: I want to make it clear that I actually like these scenes. They're well written and effectively emotional. My problem is that they also happen two seconds apart. There's nothing wrong with having a character realize the error of their ways through a tear-jerking moment. It's a popular tactic for a reason. And given how both Rick and Katie are the protagonists, they both need their own "oh" moment. But you gotta space them out, as it makes things easier to see the emotional manipulation that you're clearly trying to pull on the audience. They work, but putting them back to back is an issue easily solved with at least two minutes of padding, not two seconds.

Katie’s Death Fakeout: This is one of the few instances that a joke doesn't work in the movie, made even more annoying with the fact that I could see the punchline a mile away and kept thinking, "Just get to it already." I'm pretty sure no one bought this, especially when Katie didn't look like she could have gotten killed in any way after throwing PAL. It's poorly handled and proof that even the funniest comedies have a stale joke every now and again.

Nothing New is really being done here: Keep in mind that in terms of style, this movie is incredibly innovative. And here's hoping future animated projects can take notes. But narratively speaking? Yeah, there's nothing really new that this movie is offering.

A story about how technology will be the death of us? Been there.

A story about a group of idiots miraculously saving the world? Done that.

A story about a father forcing their teenager on a road trip so they can spend quality time with each other, thus ruining the teen's chance of hanging out with their girlfriend? Believe it or not, I have seen A Goofy Movie...multiple times...both as a kid and as an adult.

Now, I have no issue with a movie's plot being a bit by-the-books, and in some cases, cliche. If done effectively, and if I still have a good time, I don't think there’s much to complain about. And there isn't with The Mitchells vs. The Machines. The problem lies with that I'll forget this movie along with the dozens of others like it in a couple years. Which might just be the biggest issue any film can have.

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

Overall, I'd give The Mitchells vs. the Machines a well-earned A-. It has nitpicks, sure, but it's still a blast to watch. It might not be innovative or groundbreaking as movies like the last Sony Pictures Animation movie, Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse. However, it is fun. And when the world is burning down around us, it's nice to have a fun movie that can distract us from all of it. So feel free to log in to Netflix the next time you're in the mood for a film that is great for the whole family. You won’t be disapointed

(And I will talk about The Falcon and the Winter Soldier pretty soon. I just needed to get this out of my system first.)

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

hello hello hello!  and welcome to Season 12 of Supernatural. 

I admit that initially I STRUGGLED WITH SEASON 12.  I LOATHED the British Men of Letters (other than Lady Antonia Bevell; her hot working mom energy can get it); I have...mixed feelings about Mary; overall it was not a stellar season for me the first go-round.  HOWEVER I shall now give it a second chance,  and look for the subtext within the bad (and if my theory tracks, there will be much subtext as...there is much bad).  Maybe I’ll even develop Ketch appreciation.  **ONWARDS ONCE MORE INTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS:

When we last left Dean, I neglected to mention that Amara brought his mom back (this is how much I repressed Mary Winchester I guess?)  We cut to Mary, confused, in a nightgown (I get this is part of the character and that’s why she is wearing it sO wE kNOw iTS rEAlLy MaRY WinCHEstEr because of her nightgown and not Sam Smith’s exquisite face, but honestly WHY - LIKE DID SHE WEAR THE DAMN THING IN HEAVEN THE ENTIRE TIME TOO?).

DEAN [breathing heavily] 

Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.

MARY 

How do you know all that?

DEAN 

Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met –

MARY 

John Winchester.

DEAN 

August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

***DEAN DESCRIBING EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF THIS HAS MURDERED ME.  Also, I know John Winchester “told him the story,” but something about this retelling - these are NOT John Winchester’s words (other than maybe “big Marine”).  The emotions, the feelings, the “you talked and he was cute” Dean is describing is Dean’s retelling, the version he created in his mind of this damn meet-cute, this little love story he played over and over in his head, and that makes me feel warm and tingly and also want to ingest sharp knives.  

***Everyone already knows about the damn Zeppelin reference but just in case you wanted to be tortured, please recall that later on we will get

THIS FUCKING SHIT

Nothing to see here other than Dean using a reference from this LOVE STORY on Cas.  I HATE it here in super hell.  Next rounds on you, Sam.

Anyway, Mary has caught on:

I paused here just now because I had a tHoUGHt.  This season is all about exploring Dean and Sam in their role as sons (this is discussed at the SDCC panel prior to the season; btw they are all free on Prime and I recommend watching before you start each new season for little “reveals” behind some of the plot lines).  We know Sam has no relationship to Mary really, he was a baby when she died, but Dean was a little boy - with a personality, character traits, identifying characteristics that his mother probably knew like the back of her hand.  That’s why my first run-in with Mary left a bad taste in mouth during this season - LIKE THIS IS YOUR KID, and there is NO inkling or recognition until THIS moment?  In a show that just spent an entire season exploring the “unexplained connection” between Dean and GODS SISTER, there no immediate “OH” from his own mother?!

But then I realized why she only connected at this very moment.  This particular moment - and not the moment where he lists the factual details about her before the story of the night she met John.  That little story with all those cute details - that’s the part of Dean that Mary knew before she died - when that part was ALL of Dean.  Before hunting, before John’s quest for revenge turned him into the person he is today, before he saw himself as a blunt little instrument.  That’s why initially Mary has no recognition that this is her son - because the Dean she knew was sensitive, and kind, and OPEN, and liked love stories, and laughing, and warm hugs and maybe flowers. Because if you think about it WE DONT KNOW THAT DEAN.  We only know Dean AMD. (After Mary’s Death).

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

So maybe Mary represents Dean Before Mary’s Death, and whatever part of that Dean remains, no matter how deep he has been buried.  The part that connects with people; the part that doesn’t want to be alone.  The part that helped Amara.  The part that loves Cas.  And that’s why Amara brought her back.  

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

Ok, if I think of it this way, I may like Mary a little better now.

BUT ALSO MY BABY:

Cut to Cas.

[THE MAN WALKS OVER TO THE EDGE OF THE CRATER MADE BY THE LANDING AND SEES CASTIEL PULLING HIMSELF OUT.]

MAN 

Holy mother.

[CASTIEL STANDS UP AND LOOKS AROUND]

CASTIEL 

Where am I?

MAN

Uh...Earth?

CASTIEL 

No. How far am I from Lebanon, Kansas?

MAN 

Uh... Th-three hours, maybe. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Who – What are you, man?

[CASTIEL WALKS TOWARDS THE MAN AND TOUCHES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD. THE MAN DROPS TO THE GROUND. CASTIEL LEAVES HIM THERE AS HE DRIVES OFF IN THE TRUCK]

***I spy a Season 11 random parallel

And Cas says, “Earth - 

***Also, I often wonder if in his mind’s inner GPS, Cas bases distances on how far he is from Dean. 

In the meantime, Bad Things Are Happening to Sam.

***Toni Bevell, don’t join the British Men of Letters you’re so sexy hahah

Other than noting that this is yet another too oft- repeated Sam, the Victim, Always Gets Tortured scenario, I see no point in recapping these parts.

I will just continue to post Toni Bevell hotness for these portions of the episode. Ok?  Ok.  You’re welcome.

BACK TO THE BUNKER:

I already posted this sweet baby reunion in my final Season 11 analysis/recap, but lets see it again at another angle and from Mary’s perspective CAUSE CLEARLY she has...*thoughts*

Poor Cas had no idea he was about to MEET THE PARENT 

It melts my little heart that Dean uses Cas’s full name to introduce him to people.  Especially members of his family who are trying to kill him.

Anyway, then we get a much longed for gem of typical Cas deadpan:

(*I still miss Casifer a little bit though*)

And then we have 

A MOMENT OF CONNECTION!  

At the SDCC panel, Misha specifically noted that both Mary and Cas are outsiders, so this tracks. 

They head to the garage:

[Exhaling sharply, Mary walks towards Baby. She runs her hand lightly over the car.]

MARY This was John's car. Oh, she's still beautiful.

DEAN Hell, yeah, she is.

MARY Hi, sweetheart. Remember me?

[MARY LEANS DOWN AND LOOKS INTO THE CAR SMILING. SHE STARTS LOOKING AT THE FRONT SEAT BUT HER EYES AND HER THOUGHTS LINGER ON THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LEANS DOWN LOOKING AT THE INTERIOR OF THE CAR WITH PRIDE. DEAN LOOKS AT HIS MOM AND REALIZES SHE’S HAVING VERY SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF TIME IN THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LOOKS AROUND THE CAR, AND LOOKS AT HIS MOM.]

***this is where you truly see that Sam Smith is a genius because she took those directions and put them all into THIS:

And then THIS:

DEAN 

Oh…

[MARY LOOKS UP AT DEAN. DEAN REALIZES HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CONCEIVED IN THAT CAR, STANDS UP QUICKLY AND LOOKS OVER THE CAR. DEAN SWALLOWS HARD, AND GLANCES AT CASTIEL WHO GIVES HIM A QUIZZICAL LOOK.]

DEAN 

We should go.

***At this time I would like to remind everyone that Cas is also generally in the back seat of this car.  

MOVING ON

Meanwhile-

Back at the bunker, Cas is Continuing to Connect with his boyfriend’s mother:

[EXTERIOR DAY; INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS AND THE NOISE OF VIDEO GAMES ARE HEARD. THE CAMERA PANS TO MARY WHO’S WATCHING THE SCENE. CASTIEL IS PICKING UP COFFEE.]

CASTIEL 

Thank you.

[CASTIEL TAKES THE COFFEE TO MARY AND SITS DOWN.]

CASTIEL

This must be difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.

MARY 

One word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before. But to actually do it... after 30 years. A lot's changed.

[MARY LOOKS AROUND.]

MARY A lot.

Cas:

This is usually a look Reserved For Dean, so its interesting Cas is looking at Mary here [they also weirdly joked about Cas hitting on Mary at the SDCC panel and now I'm giggling because if Mary represents the soft part of Dean this all makes PERFECT SENSE).

BONUS

Actual footage of Sam in super hell

The Cas/Mary bonding worked BTW:

[INTERIOR: GREGORY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DESK WITH CASTIEL, DEAN, AND MARY STANDING BEFORE HIM.]

DEAN 

So, you dug the bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?

GREGORY 

She offered me 100 grand.

MARY 

And you took it?

GREGORY 

Student loans were a bitch, okay?

[ANGRILY CASTIEL STARTS TOWARDS GREGORY.]

DEAN 

Cas! Cas! Cas! Don't hurt him. Not yet.

**Disclosure: I do not accept the “Cass” spelling and take creative license to change it in the script whenever it appears**

GREGORY 

All right, look, she didn't give me her name. When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick shows up, and they all drive away.

MARY 

And that's everything you know?

GREGORY 

(insincerely) Yeah. Totally.

****Um, Mom that’s my boyfriend you don’t order him around like tha-

Oh, well, ok then.

***This is important, because Cas doesn’t obey anyone (other than Dean) blindly ever since he invented free will and all that.  Hence Dean’s surprised/impressed look to Mary above.  

Meanwhile:

I recall that I spent most of my first watch of Season 12 gushing over Toni Bevell, so I’m glad to know this won’t be changing.  You’ve been warned.

Next up, Sam is again sex tortured, Cas is a Helpful Boyfriend, and for some reason, Rick Springfield.  

[walkerwords]

“A Sense of Time” Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: me with footage from AMC

Summary: Six years after Rick Grimes disappeared, Daryl is still out in the woods looking for him. One day he and Dog come across you and offer you some food. Sometimes all a person needs is a little human conversation to point them home. 

Word Count: 3507

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Nobody Knows” by The Lumineers

Note: This is just a short little thing I had written in my book. I like to think that Daryl visited his niece and nephew a lot, but sometimes needed a bit of a reminder. I think he also just needs a little human interaction every once in a while. Not a ship post, just a little conversation. Thanks for reading! 

-----

Daryl Dixon had gotten used to the solitude the woods provided.

He had set out shortly after the bridge was blown out, determined to find his brother. He didn’t know if he would be able to find Rick Grimes alive, dead, or as a Walker. All he did know was that he needed to bring him home for all of them, but especially for Michonne, Judith, and RJ, the son Rick never knew.

Six years he searched and after a while, it was just easier to stay away. Daryl still made the occasional trip to Hilltop for supplies and to check-in with Tara and Jesus. He knew he should go to Alexandria more. He knew Judith asked about him, RJ too, but he couldn’t face Michonne. After what happened with Jocelyn, the same weight bore down on both of them and if he couldn’t bring Rick back to her, he didn’t want to see her. 

It was mostly guilt on his part, even though he knew Rick had made the decision to stop the herd and protect the communities. He tried to save what they had all built together. Daryl couldn’t imagine what Rick would say if he knew how distant they all were now.

Maggie was gone, Alexandria was closed, Tara and Jesus rarely spoke to others, the Kingdom was falling apart, and Daryl wasn’t even sure what was happening over at Oceanside. Everything that Carl and Rick had wanted was now tearing at the seams, but Daryl knew it was going to happen. Nothing had been the same without either Grimes and everybody knew it. Hell, he figured even Negan knew it and the man was under lock and key.

But regardless, the world had to keep going.

Daryl walked through the woods, Dog at his side. He was on his way back to his makeshift camp after checking the traps when he heard a commotion coming through the trees.

Unsheathing his knives, Daryl moved silently. Dog kept right behind him, ready to move on his master’s command. The two had been hunting together for a while now and if Daryl couldn’t detect something sneaking up on them, Dog definitely could. 

Daryl moved closer to the noise. He identified it as fighting immediately. He rushed ahead, hoping it wasn’t anyone he knew. The last thing he needed was one of his family members getting attacked or bit while looking for him in the dense forest.

Coming up to a clearing, Daryl paused just inside the tree line and watched the scene before him. About ten or so Walkers were converging on a small form in the center of the small field. Just as he was about to take his bow from his shoulder, the Dead began dropping and he finally caught sight of you. 

Armed with a machete, you swung it in perfect arcs, cutting through the Dead like they were nothing. At this point in the Apocalypse, unless they were fresh, the Roamers, as you called them, were pretty much as brittle as sand. It didn’t take much force to take them out. 

It was nearly second nature to kill them. You swung and swung, keeping light on your feet as you were taught. Heads toppled to the ground and eventually, all that remained was a single Roamer that limped on a bony stump. Twirling your blade around in your hand, you circled it. It lunged at you, but you easily stepped out of the way.

“Here, boy,” you taunted with a whistle. You could only imagine what your grandmother would say if she saw you playing with the Dead, but you had been alone for almost two years now and you needed a little bit of fun, even though it was a tad sadistic. 

The Roamer snapped its jaws at you and soon you got bored. With a sigh, you swung your blade and took off its head, stopping the brain with your boot. Looking around at all the corpses, you got to work. You never understood why your grandmother had taught you to pile them up, but you always did it.

You thought it might be because it reminded her of a funeral pyre, just without the actual flames. Only a few times did you actually light them and that was when they were people you knew. Now it was too much of a risk to do so. It could not only attract more of the Dead but the Living too and that was the last thing you wanted. 

As you dragged the Roamers into the center of the clearing, two pairs of eyes watched on from the trees. Daryl was wary of you, but something told him that you were just a nomad. It wasn’t uncommon for the lone traveler to come through the woods. Most people had the same idea: head to the Capital. Not that there was much left of Washington, D.C., but people still had hope.

Dog sat by his side, leaning slightly against him. Daryl reached down and scratched the dog’s head. He watched as you piled up the bodies and then started to go through the pockets of the Dead. He knew a few people, both living and dead that would disagree with looting a corpse, but he himself had done it more times than he could count. It was a basic survival skill these days and if you were alone, it could save your life. 

You moved through the pile, looking for anything you could use. You found a new knife, an old book of matches, a bottle opener on a set of keys, and even a few bandannas you could use while walking through the more less-desirable areas. You grabbed it all and placed it in your backpack. 

Pulling out your water bottle, you took a long pull and then poured some on your head, relishing in the cool feeling of the Virginia heat. You then climbed on top of the pile and sat, watching your surroundings as you took a break. This was something else your grandmother would slap you for, but you knew there was one thing that kept the Dead away and that was the smell of more Dead.

The horrific stench of the Roamers had become an odd comfort for you. It made you more at ease while sleeping and if you were being honest, you started to feel more comfortable around them than you did people. The new world was doing strange things to you and at this point, you were happy to let it. 

Soon enough, though, you had to move on. Sliding off the pile, you grabbed your bag, sheathed your machete, and began moving towards the trees. The sun was going to start going down soon and you would need to keep moving if you were going to make it through the thick forest.

You headed towards the river, thinking it would be the easiest landmark to follow. The last thing you needed was to get lost in the middle of Virginia. With everything so overgrown and signs weathered, it was hard to even know what state you were in, let alone the city. Then there was the matter of direction. Grandma may have been all about free spirits and honoring the dead, but never once did she teach you how to find your way without a map. 

“Thanks, grandma,” you grumbled as you jumped over a rotted tree. A rustling sound came from your right and your hand went to your machete, but you relaxed when you saw four legs, two tall ears, a tail, and a black nose. “This day just keeps getting more interesting,” you said to the dog that approached you. 

The dog growled at you, showing its sharp canines. You put your hands on your hips and scowled at the creature. “Alright, boy,” you said, “normally I would kill any animal I came across, but you…” you trailed off, tilting your head, “I never thought I’d see a domestic dog like you, let alone one that wasn’t all ribs and feral teeth.” You reached out your hand when the dog barked and you jumped back. 

“Okay, not too trusting,” you said, “I get that. How about this? I go my way and you go yours and I don’t have to kill you. How’s that sound?” You asked and the damn dog growled back. 

“Dog!” You startled at the voice, cursing. The dog looped back towards a tree where a man stepped out from behind. This time, you hung onto the hilt of the machete as you took in the stranger. He was taller than you with long hair and scruffy facial hair that was half-hidden by a hood. Along his back was a large crossbow and you knew a man like that had to have more weapons on him.

When he moved closer to you, took another step back, tripping slightly. He put his hands up. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya, girl,” he said slowly. You watched as he kept his distance, but got close enough to where you could see him a bit better. He pulled down his hood and shook out his hair a bit.

“What do you want?” You asked, keeping an eye on his hands. 

“Yer the one walkin’ into my camp,” he pointed out. He nodded behind him and just through the trees you could see a fire pit, tent, and what looked like some hand-carved spears. 

“Please tell me you’re not some psycho who strings people up in trees,” you said, grimacing. The man raised a brow and shook his head slowly.

“What kind of company you keep?” He asked, but you figured it was more of a rhetorical question. Your gaze gifted back to the dog at the stranger’s side. 

“He yours?” You asked. The man nodded. He then picked up a stick and held it aloft. 

“Dog, go!” He yelled, throwing the stick back towards camp. The canine took off at full speed, happily barking after his prize. 

“You named the dog, Dog?” You asked. The stranger shrugged. 

“Didn’t know his name,” he rationalized. You pursed your lips, rocking awkwardly on your heels. 

“So if you’re not gonna hang me from a tree or let your dog take a bite…” you trailed off, pointing over your shoulder. 

“Where ya headed?” He asked. 

“I’m lookin’ for someone. Figured I would head downriver. Guess I’ll find out one way or another.” 

“Yeah, I get that,” he said, chewing on the side of his thumb. “Ya hungry?” He asked. You hesitated. “Just fish, girl, ain’t gonna be anything special.” You thought about it for a moment before nodding. He jerked his head towards camp and you followed. 

“The name’s (Y/N), by the way, not ‘girl’,” you said, catching up to him.

“Daryl,” he responded. 

“Nice to meet ya, Daryl,” you acknowledged. He grunted in response causing you to chuckle. Daryl lead you back to his camp and as he got to work on cleaning the fish he had caught earlier, you took a turn about the area. 

Everything from the tent to the small weapons area screamed survivor. You could tell that he had been out there long, but he also knew how to live within the trees. These were the kind of people you liked. The ones that knew what they were doing and just lived rather than trying to hunt the weak or take advantage of other people. Daryl seemed like good one. He also didn’t seem scared of living out and around the Dead. “Get many Dead ones, ‘round here?” You asked. He looked at you. 

“Got traps set up,” he said, slicing open the fish next to a fire he began to stoke. “Dog keeps ‘em away.” 

“Bet he does,” you said, smiling fondly at the mutt as he chewed happily on the stick Daryl had given him. Sitting down by the fire, you let your joints feel proper heat for the first time in weeks. You watched Daryl work on your dinner for a while, watching as he used his knives. Just by the way he cooked, you knew he was a skilled fighter. 

“Where ya comin’ from?” Daryl asked suddenly. Leaning back against one of the stumps, you sighed. 

“Kind of everywhere,” you said, “I was using the highways, you know, trying to keep some sort of route. Then I kept running into trouble so I headed into the woods.” 

“What kind of trouble?” He asked, his brow furrowed.

“Just the occasional asshole who thinks I’m an easy target. A lot of people out there lookin’ to steal, kill, etc. Figured I’d be safer out here considering most people don’t risk entering the trees, fear of the Dead, and all that.”

“Smart people,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his lips.

“What does that make us?” You asked. 

“Used to it,” he said in a low voice. 

“Used to what?”

“The fucked up world,” he said simply. 

“That is the most accurate thing I have heard in weeks, Daryl,” you said, raising your imaginary glass. Daryl shook his head and went back to cooking the food. “Are there many people around? I’d rather not have to go deeper into the woods.”

“There are people,” he said, serving up a piece of fish to you in a metal dish. “A couple of communities. But they’re good people, won’t mess with ya if yer friendly.” You snorted at that. 

“If they’re anything like the last community I ran across, I’ll make sure to keep out of their line of sight before they try to make me a full course meal and offer me five-star stay,” you said, remembering the young boy you met not that long ago.

“Where was that?” Daryl asked.

“A couple of days walk from here,” you said, “that way.” You pointed over your shoulder. “There was this kid, he was out in the woods around the walls. I was looking for water and we ran into each other.” You laughed at the memory. “Kid nearly knocked me on my ass with that stick of his. Thought I was an intruder or something. Anyways, he invited me back to his ‘Kingdom’, but I had to move on. The whole walls and leader thing isn’t really for me.” You finished and went back to your dinner, but Daryl had paused. “What?” You asked as he stared at you. 

“Ya were at the Kingdom?” He asked. 

“Wait, that’s the actual name?” You laughed, “okay then I owe stick-boy an apology. I thought he was just screwin’ with me.” 

“Nah, it’s a real place. Run by two good people. The kid with the stick is their son.”

“You know them?” Daryl nodded. “Well, next time you see them, tell them a passing traveler thinks their kid is a total badass.” This got a small smile from Daryl. 

“Why don’t ya like walls?” 

“Why don’t you?” you asked, turning it back on him. 

“Never said I didn’t,” he said with a challenging look. You raised your hands in surrender. 

“I just prefer to not be locked down, I guess,” you finally answered. “Easier that way.” 

“Ya lost somebody?” he asked, guessing by the tone of your voice. 

“My whole group, actually,” you said. “I was on watch in a tree one night and I didn’t hear the Roamers enter the camp. I was so tired and I…” you sighed again, picking at the fish. “Anyways, they all died, including my grandmother, and I had to move on.”

“Sorry ‘bout yer people,” he said. 

“Thanks.” It was quiet after that. You didn’t know if bringing up your dead family was a good idea, but then again, Daryl was a complete stranger. Who cared what he knew. You weren’t going to see him again anyways. “You got family besides the mutt?” you asked. Daryl leaned back on his forearms, kicking rocks into the fire. He nodded.

“They’re around,” he said and then paused as if he was unsure about sharing more. You waited patiently. Finally, he turned his face towards the rickety boat that sat on the water’s edge. “Got a niece and nephew too. Good kids.” It was subtle, but when he mentioned them, you could see a light in his eyes even when they were slightly turned away from you. They clearly meant a lot to him. 

“Kids,” you said, “they grow up so fast. Don’t wait too long to see them again.” Daryl looked back at you and nodded. You hoped that was taking your words to heart. “Besides, maybe they can convince you to cut that thing on your head.” Daryl raised his eyebrows at you. 

“Ya know me for all of an hour and yer judgin’,” he said, messing with his long hair. 

“Once you share a dirty fish with someone, they instantly become your friend. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”

“Who made that rule?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, probably Aristotle or George Bush. Who cares? It’s gospel now.” You popped another piece of fish into your mouth and licked your fingers. 

“What did you do before the Turn?” he asked after a moment.

“High school,” you said, finishing your food. “Imagine that. One day I was sitting in Calculus class and the next thing I know my teacher is stumbling through the room trying to eat the assistant principal.” Daryl whistled low at that. 

“Yer folks?”

“Both out of the country when the outbreak began. They were pilots. Dad was in China and Mom was in South Africa. Not sure what happened to them. Gran pretty much raised me so I stuck with her for as long as possible. Then, well, you know,” you said, referring back to the other story.

“Ya don’t seem to carry the weight of their deaths,” Daryl observed, handing you a cup of water. You placed the metal mug in your hands, watching the flames flicker in the dark. 

“Don’t really have the time, you know? Can’t think about it. The way I see it, the world killed them as it died. Nobody’s fault, just the way it is now.” 

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said, sitting all the way up. “Kingdom isn’t the only place ‘round here that has walls and people and a place to sleep. There’s a community not too far from here called Hilltop. If ya give the leader my name, he’ll let ya stay. Then just down near the ocean, there’s Oceanside, Cyndie is a good person.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” you asked as he finished. 

“Yer a survivor. At some point, ya gotta stop movin’. Let yourself feel safe,” Daryl explained. “What’s the hurt in that?”

“There isn’t any,” you said, “but like I said, I’m not one for walls. I do better on my own.”

“Nobody does,” he disagreed. 

“Aren’t you alone out here with your hunting, fishing, and your traps?” you asked with raised brows.

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “Just think about it, alright?”

“I gotta find who I’m lookin’ for, Daryl,” you said, smiling softly at him. 

“Who are you looking for?” he asked. 

“I don’t know yet,” you finally admitted, “but I guess I’ll know when I find them. I just know it’s not here. These aren’t my people, but they are yours. Your niece and nephew, they’re gonna need all the family they can get. Go see them, even if it’s just for a day. You never know when the last time will be.” You got up from the ground, dusting off your jeans. 

“If ya need somewhere to sleep-” he said, but you cut him off. 

“Thanks, but I gotta keep movin’. But before I go,” you slipped your hand into your pocket and pulled out a piece of leather cord. At the end of it was a 1788 Virginia quarter. The coin was weathered from all the hands it had passed through. It had been given to you by a guy about a year ago when you came across him hiding out in an old middle school. You reached over and pressed it into Daryl’s hand. He looked at it with confusion. “Just to remember, you know?” He closed his fingers around the small token and nodded. 

“Thanks,” he said. “I hope ya find what yer lookin’ for, (Y/N),” he said and you knew he meant it. You offered your hand again and he gripped it. Letting go, you reached down and stroked Dog behind his ears. 

“Till we meet again, Daryl,” you said and then picked up your backpack and disappeared into the dark woods, smiling for the first time in a long time. 

Daryl watched after you, his thumb running over the silver coin in his hand. Dog nudged his other hand and Daryl obliged his furry companion, petting him down his back. Looking back at the flames he decided that tomorrow he would take a ride to Alexandria to see Judith and RJ. It had been too long and he needed to see his family.

TAGS: @thanossexual​

[nimmy22]

A Mistake: Chapter 7

A man and a woman, each strapped to a surgical table and naked, screaming for help. Their cries shifted from, "God, please help. Please!" to, "It's your fault, you bitch! You wanted to come to this god-forsaken town. You did this! Why am I here? I didn't want to come here. I did nothing wrong, I swear. It was all her. She kept wanting more money. She kept stealing from everyone, even our daughter."

With a bracelet authorization approval, a door slid open with a beep, revealing two staff members in yellow biohazard suits fitted with oxygen tanks and masks. One wheeled in a metal cart covered by a sterile blue drape. The cart was positioned and locked in place near the medical tables, the blue drape lifted.

The man and woman looked at the sheer size of the needles and the vails of bright purple liquid laid out neatly across the cart. Any day, they would've stolen, cheated, and lied to have the sweet relief of a drug but not like this. The irony was unwelcome.

Their wide eyes stared unblinking, their pleading lips forming incoherent words. The nightmare refused to let them go, no matter how hard they bit their tongues, tasting metal. Reality sunk in harder than the restraints digging into their raw bruised flesh. Soon the woman became delirious before fainting while the man sported a growing wetness between his legs, dripping onto the floor of the unadorned white room. The only colors in the room were the yellow of the suits, the dark brown urine, and the Umbrella logo in the center of the floor.

One of the staff members turned to the camera in the corner of the room before speaking, "Experiment number 9932-Code X, subjects are a 43-year-old female and a 51-year-old male. Treatment with Serum X41 injected intramuscularly at the deltoid site. "

The contents of the syringes were injected into the upper arm of the two test subjects. They didn't so much as blink an eye as the male begged for his life and questioning their humanity.

"Mama... please, I'll be a good boy. Please let me out. Mama..." the 51-year-old man wailed, digging his nails into the leather restraints. They retreated as fast they entered, sealing the door behind them.

"Experiment in progress, do not enter experimentation chamber number 451 due to a biohazard element in containment." The voice of a female AI sounded through the speakers, a warning to all employees on the level.

William's eyes glowed as he watched through the reinforced glass, his thumb repeatedly pressing the ballpoint pen in his hand. He leaned forward, licking his lips as the serum began taking effect. The subjects began convulsing against the restraints, their limbs spasming as their entire genome was remodeled.

With a scream, the bones of the female cracked. Her teeth tumbled out of her bleeding gums, muscles and tendons ruptured. She burst out of the restraints and threw herself against walls, pounding with bloody fists as she screeched. The serum made work of replacing her organs and connective tissue, reforming her into something stronger, faster, and more deadly—an elegant hunter of pure carnage.

William hardly paid attention to the male whose body exploded, spraying the entire room with innards. Nothing remained to identify him as having once been human. Smelling the fresh blood, the female lapped the bloodied walls with an impressively long tongue slithering out of a mouth layered with sharpened teeth. With skinless appendages, she explored the room, climbing the walls and walking on the ceiling. It wasn't long before instinct led her to devour what remained of her husband.

"Excellent! We are making progress. This is the first subject to survive injection with Serum X41 without becoming a pile of liquefied tissue. Increasing the concertation of the base chemical allowed the body to become more receptive to the serum. I can't wait to Annette and Albert know. I'm thinking of calling this project black widow." He babbled to himself, feeling like he deserves a pat on the back. All those nights spent bent over his desk were finally paying off.

Sparing one last glance at the remains of the male, William frowned. "Looks like your mama didn't quite hear you but thank you for offering yourself to science. Your contribution is greatly appreciated." William said as he began recording the experiment's findings into a clipboard adorned with the Umbrella logo. William loved making progress in his research. It flooded his brain with dopamine better than a night of good sex or winning the lottery.

------------------------- It had been three days since the last time she had seen Wesker, but she heard his voice plenty enough, calling her for hourly updates while she was alone with Sherry in his house. He didn't personally pick her up after school. Instead, He sent a very kind elderly driver under the assumption that he was employed by her' parents' to drop her off 'home.' Both were so extremely far from reality. Thankfully, the man seemed busy playing cops and robbers. She was left alone with Sherry, and while she was in a more relaxed mood, she didn't dare go exploring the property belonging to the devil. The less she knew about him and his dealings, the looser the noose around her neck.

Her actual parents were nowhere to be found. Still, she wasn't worried. Aside from the whole situation with Wesker, these were the most peaceful days she'd seen in a long time, in fact… ever. The bruises could finally heal without the addition of new ones. Her parents most likely realized the extent of their financial situation and made a break for it. The loan sharks were not going to wait forever and will soon take more forceful actions. As much as it hurt Cara, she believed they left her behind to distract the collectors. They had done something similar years back in a town not too different from Raccoon, but at least they took her with them. It worked once, and they likely believed it will again. She decided to worry about that later, placing her problems on hold. A break was much needed.

Putting on her nicer pair of sneakers and her least washed-out pair of jeans, Cara regarded herself in the mirror and opted to leave her hair down. Wondering whether she should take the cellphone, Cara spent ten minutes arguing with herself. With a heavy sigh, she stuffed it into her back pocket, hoping to 'accidentally' smash the damn thing while sitting down extra hard. What would Wesker say? You have a big butt? Don't sit down?

Today Cara was hanging out with Rick, a mutual friend. They never hung outside school before, especially on their own, and she was a little nervous about things getting awkward. Due to Cara's 'full-time job' after school, they decided to skip a few classes and go out for a hike in the Arkley mountains. This would be her most needed change of scenery, and she may walk away with a good friend.

For Cara, the past few days have been a routine, wake up, go to school, go to Wesker's home to watch Sherry, and then come home to sleep only to do it all over again the next day. Things have been calm, and so Claire's suspicion turned off its headlights, but she often complained they couldn't hang out as much.

Cara tried inviting Claire to head out with them, but she turned the offer down, smiling from ear to ear. She hinted to Cara that Rick might have caught some feelings for her and that the courage to make a move required they be alone under the right circumstances. Guys and girls alike often confessed in the Arkley mountains. It became an omen of good luck for couples to stay together longer. Of course, that was total bullshit as many of those same couples break up soon after. However, it's nice to have hope in a relationship, something Cara never experienced. She decided that if Rick did indeed liked her that she would at least give things a try.

She was shy about Rick picking her up from the bad side of town and instead promised to meet him by the start of the Arkley trails. By the time she arrived, he was already there, standing by a pickup truck in the trail parking lot. Cara smiled, catching him in the midst of fixing his brown hair and testing the smell of his breath in a cupped hand. Why hadn't she ever noticed him? He seemed like such a pleasant guy.

When he finally noticed her standing behind him in the reflection, he spun around, almost stumbling over his feet. "T-there was something stuck in my hair, I swear," He stuttered, scratching his neck while his ears roasted tomato red.

"Whatever you say, pretty boy," Cara laughed, feeling her heart grow lighter with every minute. She had a good feeling today will be very meaningful.

The two walked along a path marked with bright orange ribbons tied to the trees. They passed dozens of signs warning hikers against straying off the path, many of which were covered with graffiti. All around them, birds chirped, and strangely, a few crows cawed as they hovered over the trees.

Walking around a growth of poison Ivy, they talked about random silly things and the distant future. Cara was glad to find herself closer to another person. Real genuine friends were a shortage in her life. She always had to be to one extending a hand, reaching out first. It was nice for a change that someone else extended their hand.

"You know, Cara, despite all the things I kept hearing about you from everyone, I knew they were wrong. They judged you without knowing shit about you."

"What…kind of stuff. And who is talking about me?" Cara's voice held a hard edge, her feet taking a pause. With furrowed brows, her eyes followed Rick as he walked ahead before noticing she stopped. This was the first time Cara heard of any rumors concerning her. She never made any enemies, keeping herself relatively unnoticed at school. Cara felt betrayed, wondering if Claire heard the rumors too, and if so, why hasn't she said anything? Why does she have to hear it from Rick?

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's nothing important. What matters is that I'm on your side." He spoke quickly, scratching the back of his neck.

"Rick, what are they saying about me," Cara walked closer to him, her eyes piercing through him.

"You'll be upset," His eyes kept avoiding Cara, settling on a hole in his shoe.

"I can take it. I just want to know what was said. Please Rick."

"Ah shit…um… they've said that someone saw you walking on Chandler street where all the…dealers and escorts hang. They said you offered to give blow jobs for five bucks to some older men behind a dumpster. That the bruising on your arm because you inject heroin, that your parents pimp you out to-"

Cara expelled a breath, her eyes misting rapidly. "No! that not true. I didn't do that. Why would anyone say something like that? I'm a fucking babysitter, ok? I'm not this, I'm not…my mom." She turned on her heel, wanting to get out of there. "I'm not like her." She repeated, clenching her fists. They didn't have the right to spin stories about her, turning her into a lunchtime gossip storyline. It wasn't fair. She was wrong. She couldn't handle it. She was always pathetic, always crying.

Rick caught up to Cara, grabbing her shoulder to spin her around to face him. "I'm so sorry Cara, I knew it was going to upset you, and I still told you about it. God, I'm so stupid." He said, wrapping his arms around Cara. She was caught by surprise and tried to push him away. Eventually, she found herself leaning against him, letting out a sigh as he stroked her hair.

"It's ok Rick, I'm glad you told me. They're just stupid rumors. I don't know why I'm over- " He kissed her open mouth midsentence, softly at first but quickly added more pressure. His hands fisted into her shirt, forcing her closer. She felt the bile rise quickly.

Cara's eyes were wide open as she tried pulling back, but he held her tightly. She tried forcefully turning her head, but his hand reached up to hold her chin in a painful vice grip, his tongue demanding entrance against her lips. She whimpered, clenching her teeth shut. Her lack of participation agitated him, and he grabbed her arm with a bruising tightness. Cara cried out in pain, and he took the opportunity to force his tongue into her mouth.

Cara wanted to shout for help, her eyes darting around the forest, encircling them. Still, they were completely alone, save for a couple of crows weeping among the trees. They seemed closer than before, sensing a meal in the making.

Allowing his tongue full entrance, Cara bit down as hard as she could on it, gagging against the metallic taste. Rick shoved her away, groaning in pain as blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Cara spat the blood in her mouth before shouting. Her eyes burned into him as she backed away.

"I believed in you despite everyone else. I told you I was on your side, and you hurt me. Do you know how many times I defended you? How many times I got picked on for simply standing beside you? You led me to think that you felt something, and then you hurt me." He growled, nursing his tongue in his hand.

Cara let out a pained breath, closing her eyes before turning her head away. She replayed what happened in her mind, wondering where things went wrong. She said she will give him a chance but, this was wrong, so very wrong.

"Rick, stop this. I appreciate what you did for me, but you made me uncomfortable. I did not enjoy that, I did not consent to that, but you touched me anyway."

"How much would it take you to fucking notice me? I've tried being Mr. Fucking nice for two years, Two fucking years. But you never look at me differently." Rick snarled, clenching his fists. He unleashed his rage against the nearest tree punching it repeatedly. He did not stop the assault even as his knuckles split, and the blood flowed freely, staining the bark.

"Rick, please stop before you do something you'll regret," Cara whispered softly, reaching for his bloody hand.

"I will make you want me!"

Cara barely had a second to process things before a rock made a disorienting contact with her head. She saw an assortment of colors and shapes on her way to the muddy earth.

Rolling on her stomach, she tried to push herself up, but everything was spinning, or maybe she was spinning. She rested her cheek against the mud, willing the world to stop shifting. Blood trickled down her face, and she had to blink it out of her eyes, unable to wipe it away. Her limbs felt as if weights were tied to them, giving gravity a greater pull.

Cara fought to stay awake, drifting in and out of the dark, faintly aware of being dragged by her foot through rough earth. It scratched her exposed skin, forcing the back of her shirt to ride up.

[artificialqueens]

Pros and Cons, 2/3 (Witney) - Marion

Summary: The wives of two conmen become fast friends (and maybe more) as their husbands plot an elaborate heist. As the planning progresses, Willam and Courtney grow closer and begin to think that maybe their husbands deserve a taste of their own medicine.

A/N:Thank you again to my lovely betas Freyja , Jazz, and Ortega for all of the help and encouragement! I’m going to try to get out another part of this and/or Academic Dishonesty in the next week or so, but I think that the next part of this might need a bit more editing than I anticipated. Thank you so much to everyone who liked the first part or said anything nice about it, I really appreciate it!

Courtney wasn’t sure when Willam became so thoroughly tied to happy in the time since they met, but the link was undeniable now. Her days were spent in near isolation and her nights were spent focusing on keeping her husband content, but her evenings? They were shopping and laughing and remembering the feeling of freedom from her youth, any time she could escape the watchful eyes of her parents.

Even her libido seemed to finally get that time with Willam was for basking in the feeling, not getting caught up in desire. It had gotten easier, somehow, to not stress about her attraction now that Willam had acknowledged it. She certainly still felt it, and even let herself indulge in thoughts about it on lonely afternoons with nothing to distract her from it, but the jokes and innuendos made it feel less like it was something she shouldn’t be feeling. It still was something she shouldn’t be feeling, she knew, but now it was merely a breach of a fidelity that she’d half-heartedly agreed to rather than an unwanted imposition on her only real friend.

All this time, her evenings had been for Willam and Willam alone, as their husbands had refused to let them sit in on any of their meetings. They’d arrive at the scheme spot du jour, she’d be handed off to Willam after a sloppy kiss or overly enthusiastic feel up to give the warning of mine to the other men on the team, and then the women would be on their own - so long as they didn’t bring along a chauffeur - to do as they pleased until the meeting’s end. For the most part, Courtney liked to think she was good with change - after all, she’d taken to this set of habits quite readily, hadn’t she?- but tonight’s change was an unwelcome one.

She raised no complaint, though, as she double-checked herself in the mirror of the bathroom of their hotel suite. Her hair was curled and her lips were a bright red, matching her dress. Rick would like it, she was sure, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Willam would say when they arrived. Would she like the dress? Would she think Courtney was wearing too little make up? Showing too much skin? Not showing enough?

It didn’t matter, really. This evening was for Rick, even if Willam was there. After one final once over of her reflection, she nodded to herself. She could get through tonight’s dinner.

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

The restaurant was fancy, and Courtney had expected no less. Tonight was a big night, the celebration of finally having the plan prepared, of the final pieces coming into place.

Courtney felt her stomach drop.

What did that mean for her and Willam? The only reason that they’d spent all this time together was because of their husband’s partnership. Would they still see each other once this was all over? She couldn’t bear to think about that for very long.

Luckily, she didn’t have very long to worry about it. By the time she and Rick had settled into their seats at the table, Willam and her husband were on their way over to them.

It took all of her self control not to stare for too long at Willam. Her dress was blue - her favorite color, her mind reminded her - and had a plunging neckline and a hemline just long enough to be appropriate. She was wearing Louboutins, as Courtney had come to expect of her, which didn’t do anything to keep her legs from looking absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was in a half updo, a bit fancier than her usual loose waves or double French braids. If Courtney could get away with it, she’d spend the night just staring at Willam. She couldn’t, not here, not with their present company, so she did her best to be content with one sweeping glance.

“You clean up well,” Willam said with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.

“I could say the same about you,” Courtney responded.

Without warning, Willam pulled her into a quick hug. It wasn’t much, but she felt every nerve tingle at the touch. She did her best to conceal her surprise and pleasure. This was fine, right? Friends hugged, didn’t they? Certainly this didn’t look like it really meant anything to their husbands - it likely didn’t mean anything in the end, anyway. Still, the few seconds of contact meant a lot to her.

She wasn’t sure if this moment was going to make it easier or harder to spend the night across from Willam. She could look, but she couldn’t touch. No, that was a normal night. She couldn’t touch ever - for reasons she could spend hours listing. Tonight she couldn’t even look, not really.

As quickly as it had started, the hug was over. Courtney prayed that she didn’t look as flustered as she felt as they all took their seats and ordered their drinks. The men quickly started a conversation that they couldn’t be bothered to include their wives in.

When it came time to order, Rick - ever the gentleman - decided that he would order for his wife. Paying far more attention than Courtney had anticipated, Willam raised an eyebrow at her, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

The time between ordering and receiving their food seemed to drag on. Evidently, even in settings of two-on-two Willam and Courtney were expected to be seen and not heard.

When their food arrived, Courtney braced herself. She looked down at the plate in front of her. There were a few drops of sauce, a single piece of vegetable as garnish, and a chicken breast. She had been vegan since well before she met Rick, and he still couldn’t seem to remember that she didn’t eat meat. Should she just nibble on the garnish? Pretend that she wasn’t hungry? Sacrifice her morals and taste buds for a night to be sure that she’d eat before breakfast the next morning? Before she could make a decision, Willam interrupted her train of thought.

“Damn, I forgot to get this with no cheese,” she said, gesturing at her salad. There wasn’t much cheese on it to begin with, and Courtney wasn’t even sure it would be enough to upset the other woman’s lactose intolerance.

Jace took a moment to look at her plate and shrugged before turning back to his conversation with Rick, paying little mind to Willam’s apparent distress.

“Oooo yours looks so good, Court,” Willam continued, making pointed eye contact with Courtney as she spoke. “Do you think we could trade?”

Cheese, particularly parmesan, wasn’t exactly vegan either, but a salad with a bit of cheese on it wouldn’t be too bad, would it? It’s not like she didn’t give into her desire for a small piece of cheese every couple of months anyway. Besides, the thought didn’t make her as uncomfortable as what was sitting in front of her.

“Sure,” Courtney said, hoping that she had successfully masked the eagerness in her voice. Confronting Rick about it, or even making it too obvious that he had gotten it wrong, wasn’t going to end well, especially not in public.

She felt gratitude paired with something she couldn’t, or rather wouldn’t, identify flutter in her chest as she watched Willam switch their plates.

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

Willam slipped her hand into Courtney’s on the way to the bathroom as soon as they were far enough away from the table to be sure they wouldn’t be seen. It was a bit of a habit by now, and Courtney was sure that Willam had no other motive behind the action, but holding Willam’s hand as they walked away from their husbands felt like a grand gesture in her heart.

When they reached the bathrooms, Willam dropped her hand and Courtney felt the loss in her soul.

“So, is he that much of an asshole or just an idiot?” Willam said, pulling her lipstick out of her purse and turning towards the mirror to reapply.

Courtney leaned back against the counter next to her and let her head fall back with her eyes closed. “He doesn’t do it on purpose, he just….” she trailed off, knowing that there was little that she could say that would make the situation any better in Willam’s eyes.

“Girl, he hasn’t seen you eat meat like, ever. And he thought ‘oh I know what she likes, chicken kiev’. Like at this point it’s willful ignorance,” Willam said, not turning away from her reflection to look at her. “I’ve known you what, six months now? How come I know you’re a vegan and he doesn’t after… how many years have you been married?”

“Ten,” Courtney said, turning to look at the other woman. “And you’ve been lactose intolerant for how many years?”

Willam rolled her eyes. “You could just say thank you, ya know.” She paused for a second and finally turned to look at Courtney. “You got married that young? I thought you would’ve waited until after you got your degree or whatever. Especially since he’s so,” she gestured back towards the door they came in through.

Courtney shrugged. “It worked,” she said. “It wasn’t a money thing or whatever.” She bit her lip and looked away. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. C’mon, they’re gonna wonder why we’re taking so long.”

Willam zipped her purse. “They don’t notice that we’re there, I doubt they’ll notice that we’re gone,” Willam said, but followed Courtney towards the door.

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

The next day came and went, and Courtney found that she couldn’t stop thinking of the ache of Willam’s absence. It wasn’t really an issue, not yet, but it would be. Just a few more months, probably three if she were lucky and her husband were not, and Willam would be lost to her forever. Her husband hadn’t let her have close friends before this heist, and she doubted that he’d let her have any after. Willam had just been for convenience, and once it stopped being beneficial to have the girls to keep each other occupied, he’d see no point to it. If only she could figure out how to make him think that their friendship would benefit him once this was over.

She spent the day absorbed in her thoughts, but Rick didn’t seem to notice. As long as she did what he asked and didn’t fuss, he wouldn’t notice that anything was off. Was that what she wanted for the rest of her life? Really, truly? It wasn’t like she had any other options, but Willam lingered at the edge of her consciousness, demanding she find something better. Something more enjoyable.

Even following that train of thought, she couldn’t keep Willam off of her mind. She could have something better, something more enjoyable, something that made her happy and safe and free with Willam, in another life. But not in this one. But oh, how sweet that could be.

“I’m going to meet up with Jace downtown,” Rick said, pulling her out of that dangerous thought process. “Don’t wait up.”

Courtney nodded. “Have a nice night.”

He grunted, grabbed his coat, and made his way out the door. The door clicked behind him, and Courtney felt a tension that she hadn’t realized that she was holding melt away. She could be alone with her thoughts, and maybe try to get her head back where it needs to be. Or maybe let herself explore where she really, really shouldn’t without fear of interruption.

Just as she settled into that thought, into her decision of letting her fantasies run wild until the hurt that they wouldn’t happen grew to be too much, there was a knock on the door. She groaned, but pushed herself off of the bed.

Rick hadn’t left his key, had he? He certainly wouldn’t have just turned around to decide that he’d rather spend a night with his wife than his favorite crime buddy. But, that wasn’t his knock, was it?

As she opened the door, she was met with Willam, holding a few styrofoam containers.

“They’re from the restaurant downstairs,” Willam said, lifting the containers a bit higher. “I got one of what I wanted, one of the vegan things the lady thought was the best, and an order of fries. Now are you gonna let me in, or what?”

Courtney stepped to the side. It made sense that Willam would’ve been able to ask Jace what room she and Rick had been staying in, but she really hadn’t been expecting the company.

“If the boys are having a night out, I thought we should have a night in,” Willam said, setting the food down on the coffee table.

“Sounds good to me,” Courtney said, all thoughts of alone time slipping her mind. Time with Willam was always better than being stuck with her thoughts, anyway.

The two took a seat on opposite ends of the couch, and Willam turned to face her. “What do you wanna watch? Nothing too sappy,” she said. Once they had turned on something to watch, they began to dig into their food.

Courtney knew this wasn’t a date. They were spending time together because their husbands were spending time together, for God’s sake. She shouldn’t even begin to entertain the thought. But when with Willam so near, making her laugh with her commentary and seeming to get closer the longer the movie wore on, she couldn’t help but let herself pretend. To pretend that Willam had come over for a date rather than to keep each other company while their husbands were gone, that she was sharing this suite with Willam instead of Rick, that she was sharing her life with Willam instead of Rick.

Courtney lost track of what was happening in the movie as she sat through a cycle of letting that thought consume her and trying to push it away. She was finally pulled out of it when Willam spoke to her.

“Hey Court,” Willam said, her face looking the closest to what you could call “hesitant” as Courtney had ever seen. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Courtney said. She hoped that whatever Willam had to say didn’t have to do with how quickly her thoughts were racing. She wasn’t sure that she had a way that she was willing to answer that.

“Why’d you marry Rick? You said it was a long story, but it looks like we’ve got time.”

Courtney bit her lip. It wasn’t a story she liked to think about, much less tell, but this was Willam. Willam, of all people, would understand. Besides, it wasn’t like Willam would get her in trouble for any part of it. “Alright,” she said, and turned to face Willam.

“My parents were involved in a crime ring around here before I was born,” she began. “They ran into some trouble after a con went south, and packed up to move to Australia to avoid getting caught. They kept it up while we were there, but decided they’d been away long enough to go back around my 17th birthday. They wanted to jump back in where they left off, but people thought coming back after all of that time was suspicious, so they started looking for ways to make connections to keep that from being a problem.”

She paused for a moment. When she glanced up, she could tell that Willam knew where this was going, and wasn’t happy about it.

“It’s not like it’s easy to argue with your parents when they say you’re engaged to a con artist that’s going to help them move up in the world, at least not when you’re the only one involved that wouldn’t have the resources to track you down if you decided to run.” A part of her wanted to find some way to make a joke out of it, but she couldn’t seem to think of what she’d say.

“So your parents essentially sold you to him to what? Increase their status? What is this, fucking feudal Europe? I know they’re con artists, but come on! They can’t be that fucking willing to make their daughter–”

“I’m fine,” Courtney said, cutting her off. “I wasn’t really happy about it at first, but I got to do what I wanted, more or less. Besides,” she slowly reached for WIllam’s hand and squeezed it gently, making eye contact. “If I hadn’t married Rick, I probably wouldn’t have gotten to meet you.”

Willam looked away, and Courtney didn’t try to stop her. “Knowing me isn’t worth ten years of being unhappily married to that asshole.”

“Maybe it is to me,” Courtney said. She could feel the weight of her words, passing between them. It was true. She hadn’t thought about it before, but now that she had said it, she knew that it was the truth. Truth or not, the silence stretched on between them. Maybe she should’ve kept it inside, quiet, where no one else would know to look.

As they sat in their silence, it dissipated into its normal self. The closeness. The comfort. The feeling that perhaps they both had more to say. But Courtney had already said too much.

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

A rom-com and a half later, Courtney was convinced that there wasn’t anything in the world she’d be willing to move for. She wasn’t cuddling with Willam, not really, but their feet were touching as they laid curled up on their own ends of the uncomfortable couch, and she wasn’t sure when she’d have a chance at this closeness with Willam again. She wasn’t sure if it would ever happen again. For all she knew, they’d part ways for good in under two months.

The thought made her heart clench. She didn’t want Willam to just be a memory, she wanted to live in this moment for the rest of her life. There was nothing she could do, not really. She could savor the moment, she could make the most of the time she had left with her, but she had no say in how this would end. She wished she did.

A phone vibrated, and she didn’t bother to check if it was hers. There was no one she wanted to hear from more than the woman at the other end of the couch.

To Courtney’s dismay, Willam shifted, reaching forward to grab her phone. After a moment, she huffed a sigh and settled back into her spot.

“Jace said that they’re gonna get a place to stay tonight on the other side of town. Something about planning to be at the casino all night anyway. Mind if I just crash here for the night?” she said.

Courtney perked up. “Of course not, I’d love to spend the rest of the night with you.” Did she sound too eager? But it was true, she wanted as much time as she could get with Willam, especially knowing that their time together might be limited.

Willam smiled at her. “Thanks, it’s such a long walk back to my room,” she joked.

Just down the hall is too far apart to me too, Courtney thought to herself, but she didn’t dare say it out loud. Besides, that’s almost certainly not what Willam meant.

After a moment, Willam frowned. “What do you think they’re doing, anyway?”

Courtney shrugged. “Gambling, I’d guess. Counting cards to make sure they come out on top. I know Rick likes to do smaller cons sometimes, just to do them. Something about proving himself, I guess.”

Willam nodded. She let the silence sit between them for a moment, before breaking it. “Do you think they’re gonna cheat? On us, I mean. Not the cards.”

The thought that Rick might cheat on her had crossed Courtney’s mind on occasion over the last decade, but after a while she couldn’t bring herself to be upset about it. It’d be one thing if her marriage had been anything other than an attempt at a power grab from her family, but the thought didn’t bother her. The more time he spent away from her, whatever he was doing, the less time she had to spend with him.

She shrugged. “If he is, then I’m not really mad about it, honestly. What can I do? It’s not like we’d be together if it were up to me. It’s not exactly breaking my trust if he never had it, you know?”

An expression that Courtney couldn’t quite read crossed Willam’s face. “Makes sense. I guess I feel the same. I can’t really object to him using his money to get laid since,” she gestured to herself. Not for the first time, Courtney wondered exactly how desperate Willam had been when she ended up with Jace. Where would she be if she hadn’t needed the money that much?

The ever present spark of humor in Willam’s eyes wasn’t there anymore, and Courtney’s heart ached, just a little. Willam deserved to be happy. There wasn’t much she could do in the long term, but she could cheer her up now. Sometimes it seemed that Willam lived for gossip, and that she could provide.

“Honestly,” she started, hoping she could manage to fully draw Willam back out of wherever she was in her head. “If Rick is planning on cheating on me tonight, I feel worse for whoever he’s doing it with than me.”

Willam perked up a bit, and Courtney felt almost giddy that she had managed that. Even if it had required talking about Rick.

“Why’s that?” Willam asked.

“There are so many better fucks out there,” Courtney said, and was rewarded with a snort from Willam. Not her signature laugh, but a good start.

“Aw, is Courtney sexually frustrated?” Willam asked in a faux-sympathetic tone.

“I’m home alone all day, I manage to take care of myself.”

Willam’s gaze darkened, and Courtney felt her heart rate pick up. She was trying to avoid thinking of Willam this way, so why did she feel like she could bring up this subject without it becoming dangerous?

“I bet you do,” Willam said. Courtney felt her chest constrict. She needed to change the subject before she did something she’d regret.

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

Willam hadn’t brought any pajamas with her when she had shown up earlier. Of course she hadn’t, she hadn’t been planning to stay the night.

It would be easy enough to go down the hall and get some from her room, but Willam didn’t seem to want to do so, and that suited Courtney just fine. As much as their conversation had left Courtney feeling like she was going to do something she’d regret, she didn’t want to be apart, even for a few minutes.

Lending Willam some of her clothes had seemed like a decent idea to begin with, but seeing Willam in her tank top that barely managed to cover her cleavage, Courtney was having second thoughts. This was going to be a long night.

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

Courtney blinked awake. It was still dark out, but she didn’t bother checking the time. She squinted at Willam in the light coming from the bathroom. She looked beautiful. She looked softer in her sleep, as if her ever present mask of hardness had fallen off. Courtney felt butterflies dancing around her stomach. They were close, mere inches apart despite the fact that they were sharing a queen sized bed. It wouldn’t be hard to close the gap. She just had to scoot a little closer, and she could put an arm around her waist. She’d wake her up and Willam would smile at her, that soft smile Courtney had only ever caught glimpses of. Then all she’d have to do was lean in….

Courtney shook herself out of that thought process. No, even if Willam felt that way about her, it was a bad idea. And that “if” wasn’t likely, anyway. It was better not to entertain the thought, even for a moment.

She turned away to face the wall. It was safer that way.

“Hey Court,” Willam said, her voice still filled with sleep.

Courtney tensed. Had she been caught staring? “Yeah?” she asked, hoping to keep her tone even.

She felt Willam shifting on the other side of the bed, as if she were sitting up. “I had an idea and I wanna know what you think about it.”

Courtney rolled over to face Willam she had been before, but ended up on her back, pinned to the bed. She stared up at Willam. The other woman didn’t move, though her eyes scanned Courtney’s face for any sign of disapproval. Slowly, she released one of Courtney’s wrists that she had pinned next to her head and brought her newly freed hand to Courtney’s chin, tilting her head ever so slightly.

For a moment, neither of them moved. There were a hundred reasons that this was a bad idea. She should tell Willam to get off of her, or push her off, or remind her of any of the dozens of reasons that this was a very, very bad idea. Instead, Courtney felt herself give a small nod.

None of her daydreams had prepared her for this. Courtney couldn’t remember the last time a kiss had felt this good, like it wasn’t a half-hearted obligation. Kissing Willam wasn’t something she had to do, it wasn’t an obligation that was going to be looming over her for the foreseeable future, but she almost wished it was. She could be happy kissing her every day.

For a second, Courtney wondered why Willam had done it. Why here, why now, why her? Could Willam feel the same about her? Or did this have to do with the conversation that they had had earlier? Did this mean something, or was it just two sexually frustrated friends doing each other a favor? Was either really a better option than the other?

Courtney was ripped out of that thought process when Willam pulled away and settled on her lap. With Willam looking down at her with mussed hair and and her too-tight tank top in the dim light, the only coherent thoughts Courtney could manage were that Willam looked even more gorgeous than ever and that she wished the light were on so she could see her better. Then Willam slid her hands up under Courtney’s own shirt, and she lost even those thoughts.

[headoverhiddles]

Mr. Hollywood - Cliff Booth x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: After hitchhiking the California coast doesn’t work out, a sexy stranger decides to do the right thing, and it pays off-- for both of you.

Notes: Hey everyone! I saw OUATIH last night so I figured I’d write some more Tarantino smut! Cliff (Brad Pitt) was def the hottest character. Stunt daddy. Anyway, not many spoilers in this. Just little references to the movie, so if you haven’t seen it yet, it’s up to you if you wanna read :) I’ve put everything even remotely spoiler-y below the cut. Enjoy!

Now on ao3!

You lick a long stripe of vanilla ice cream up the side of your melting cone. The sun is hot today, and you're glad for the cool treat to chill you out.

You'd been waiting by the side of the highway for what seems like the entire day. Aren't short shorts supposed to increase your chances of getting picked up?

You run out onto the road waving as a convertible zips past you, and you sigh.

"Bummer," you whisper, taking another slow lick of your ice cream, and turn. You barely have time to scream as you try to jump out of the way of a speeding sports car.

That's the last thing you remember.

---

Cliff pats his hand along to the song on the radio, idly trying to identify it. Getting away for the weekend was a good plan-- he needed the time away from work, or lack of it, and while he loved Rick, he needed a break from that hot mess of a poor bastard for a while too. That's the good thing about living in Hollywood. He was just a short drive away from the coastal waters of the Pacific, there for when he wanted to cut through the shit and remember what it's like to be a living, breathing man again.

Bad Moon Rising, Creedence Clearwater. That's the fucking name of this song. Hey... what's--

In the distance, Cliff spots something by the side of the road. Someone!

A girl, lying on her side.

"Sheeit," he mutters, really toiling here. He just wants to get to his fucking motel and sleep for 24 hours by the beach... then again... hit and run passed out young thing on the side of the road...

Cliff resigns himself to being a good Samaritan. He pulls over. The little yellow car comes to a sputtering halt beside you, and you stir a little. Cliff lets his reflective sunglasses slide down his nose as he takes a good look at you. You've got a deep gash running across your chest, stuck with gravel, but other than that, you just seem to be a little bruised up.

"Look at you! Somebody's done some damage," he remarks, squatting down beside you.

"Not too much, I hope," you croak, wincing.

"Don't think so," the man smiles a little, "Face is pretty as I've ever seen one." He frowns a little, obviously chastising himself for flirting with a girl that currently resembles roadkill.

"You don't have to stop hitting on me," you smirk, coughing a little as you try to sit up. "It's making me feel better."

"In that case," he grins, helping you to your feet, "Why don't you tell me what the hell happened, beautiful?" You stumble a little, and he holds out his arm again. "Take this here bicep-- that's it, right there--"

"Are you flexing?"

"Don't know what you're talking about--"

"You are!"

"Okay, maybe a little. Kind of a lot." He gives a low chuckle, and guides you to his car, where some CCR song is just ending. He takes off the yellow Hawaiian shirt he's got on, leaving him in a tight white sleeveless shirt. He hands you the article to put pressure on your wound. 

“But your shirt--”

“More where that came from. All just as ugly.  Here we are. Theeere's a good girl-- you just sit there all nice like, and you tell me how I came to find you like that, all fucked up with a smushed ice cream cone beside you."

"I was waiting for a ride... guess I ventured too far until the road, and got hit. Kind of. I feel like I didn't actually get hit."

"A shock graze." Cliff nods, some part of him relieved that you weren't actually hit by a speeding car.

"A what?"

"In the business, that's what we call it. You get a... close call, feels like the real thing."

"You a race car driver or something?" you tease, trailing your fingers up his jeans. 

He flashes another one of those half smiles. "Stunt double."

"Ooh," you cough, grimacing as you hold his shirt on your gash, "Hollywood type. You don't strike me as that type, Mr. Hollywood."

"Well, that's because I don't technically live there, angel. Just work and breathe there. I live in Burbank with my girl."

You quirk an eyebrow. "You've got a girl, huh?"

He glances over, sees your expression, and laughs. "Yep. My dog, Brandy. She's a bratty little mutt. Love her to death."

You smile. "Far out. I dig dogs."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, good thing I didn't bring her. She don't take too kindly to strangers." You think he's serious, until he wiggles his eyebrows at you. He gives you another sideways look, switching between you and the road. "Where you from, anyway?"

You shrug. "Around."

He shakes his head. "Nah, see there ain't none of this 'around' shit. I pick you up, I gotta know if you're an axe murderer, or... if you're just here to toy with me before you kill me or some fucking bananas natural born killers shit."

"I don't wanna kill you," you snort, "But toying with you sounds like fun." You turn fully toward him. "Besides, where would I fit an axe? Up my ass?"

He bursts into incredulous laughter, and shakes his head.

The California coastal countryside passes you by as Cliff drives on to his digs by the beach waiting for him.

"You sure you're doing okay, honey?"

"I'll be fine," you say softly. "Thanks for finding me."

The two of you drive on in relative silence, stealing glances at one another when the other isn't looking. Cliff is a man of few words, but he's attractive, and you can't wait to see what lies ahead... if your wounds would kindly give you a break for the night.

He's really a sexy stranger-- well, he's not much of a stranger. He's introduced himself to you, hasn't he? And you haven't returned the courtesy.

"Name's (y/n)," you say, resting your elbow on his right forearm, "I'm backpacking here."

"Backpacking," Cliff nods, taking a right turn, "Sounds like fun. You oughtta be a little more careful, though."

"Damn right," you huff, "My bleeding chest is teaching me that." You look down at it, pulling the sticky shirt away. It looks a little better now-- the bleeding's stopped at least.

"When we get to mine, we'll get that dirty old shirt off you and wash you up proper, sound good?"

"Mhm," you nod. "Thanks for doing this, Cliff. You didn't need to."

He smirks. "I know. Still don't know why I did."

You smirk back, leaning into him. "I'll show you why you did."

He chuckles again, and hits the gas harder, peeling around another bend. In about five minute's time, you make it to what looks like a little shack... right on the beach, no one around for miles.

"Yep," he runs his hands through his blonde hair, "It ain't much, but it's home away from home."

"It's amazing," you say truthfully, closing your eyes and listening to the waves practically hit the side of the little house. "Where I'm from, there's no water for miles. This is beautiful."

He nods in thanks, squinting out at the water with his hands on his hips.

"Not my property, actually. It belongs to the state of California, or some shit. I’ll just live here until they find out."

"When's that gonna be?"

He shrugs. "They haven't noticed little old me in 30 years."

He helps you inside. It's just as homely you would imagine with someone like Cliff. It's not messy per say, but it's lived in, and comfortable. A couple broken signs hang lopsided on the wall, one neon bar sign with the pink silhouette of a busty woman holding a beer, and one that reads "What happens at the beach house stays at the beach house."

It's a nice place.

"Mine," you grin, and lay across the sunken couch. He smiles, flinging your feet off the cushion with a heave.

"Mine," he corrects. You compromise by tossing your feet over his lap, and he shakes his head, groaning.

"I picked me up a troublemaker here." He takes a good look at you. "Rick would love you. You're just his type."

"Rick who?" you ask, twirling your hair.

"Dalton. He's my boss."

"The movie star? Huh." You look down. "And... what about you?"

"What about me, what?"

"Am I your type?"

He looks at you a long time, as if thinking about it. "I haven't decided yet." He shrugs it off, getting off the couch. "Enough chit chat. We gotta get you clean."

"You gonna shower with me, Mr. Hollywood?"

"No, I'm gonna direct you to the shower, and leave you to goddamn shower on your own like a big girl."

You giggle, hanging onto his arm as he ushers you down the hall. "Big girls need their daddies too, sometimes."

He hesitates, and you see something flicker behind his eyes. He buries it quickly, but you saw it-- you know his weakness.

In the washroom, you take off your clothes, and gingerly get into the spray, letting it run over you. The cut's doing a lot better now, and though you're bruised from the fall, you're okay. You're just lucky a man with half-decent morals found you.

Getting out, you tug on the boxers Cliff had left you beside some other clothes of his, and get an idea.

---

"What the hell am I doing with her?" Cliff mumbles aloud. He wished Brandy was here-- she was a good listener. "Shit. Pretty girl naked in my bathroom? Nah. I ain't doing shit with her."

He starts to blend some ice and Miller (his personal favourite creation he likes to call the Daily Grind) and lights up a smoke. He takes a deep drag, thinking of your perky body, the way you'd looked at him in the case...

"Well now," he starts to walk around his house, "Cliff. You've been provided with a seemingly no-lose scenario opportunity."

Just then, he hears your footsteps approach behind him.

"Sorry-- I just thought it would be better if my injury got a little air..."

Cliff turns in question, and nearly drops hot ash on himself. You're leaning against the wall, completely topless, wearing only his boxers, riding down your hips.

"That's fine," he grins, huffing.

"Groovy," you wink.

He points to your peaked nipples with his cigarette. "You're not careful there, sweet thing, you're gonna catch a chill."

"I have you to keep me warm," you retort.

"God damn," he mutters to himself, smiling.

"I know it's a lot to ask, after you picked me up and everything... but you got any food around here? I'm staaarving," you bite your lip. He narrows his eyes. You're being coy now. He swings himself over to the little kitchen area, cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Hell, you think I'm gonna bring you all the way out here and not feed you?" He holds out a bowl of kraft dinner he made, and you take it, eating some of the gooey orange mess.

"Mmmm."

"Guessin' you’re a... big fan of mac and cheese," he smirks. You saunter up to him, desire dripping from your voice.

"I think I’m a bigger fan of you.” 

His beer concoction and cigarette are forgotten as you hop up onto him, forcing him to hold you by your ass. You wrap your legs around his back, and in one smooth swing, he has you turned and pinned against the counter.

"I have half a mind to tell you you're overexerting yourself, and send you to bed," he whispers against your lips. You growl.

"Don't you dare."

"I don't know," he plays, dipping his head back from another kiss, "You really think you're up for the pounding you're 'bout to get, honey bear?"

"Fuck yes, daddy, I want it," you moan, and that look comes over his face again.

"Then daddy's gonna give it to you."

He tugs the boxers down, and you use your toes to shimmy his jeans down, guessing correctly that he didn't have anything underneath today.

"Commando?" you murmur, kissing up his neck.

"I seem to've lent out my only pair of underwear," he teases, as you kick said pair off your ankle. You suddenly push yourself off the counter, and drop down to your knees, taking him all the way out of his faded jeans. You wrap your lips around the tip, holding by the base, and he groans, tipping his head back.

"Jesus H Christ," he mutters, "Haven't felt this since... shit, I don't even know..."

"Like it?" You lick along his shaft.

"Love it, babygirl, just love it."

You deepthroat him, and his groans get louder,. lazier, and more drawn out.

"Fuuuuck me up, that's special," he licks his lips, "You gonna let me return that favor?"

"Feeling your big cock inside me is payback enough," you moan, and pull his knees out, toppling him to the floor and crawling on top of him. Wide eyed for a moment, he lets you take the upper hand, but secures you tightly against his crotch as you grind there. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you there, guiding you, and your hands grab for his chest. After a moment of this, he flips himself back on top, and you feel two fingers slip inside you.

"That good?" he whispers against your face. You can barely speak-- you nod feverishly, clutching his muscular shoulders. "Mmm, you're a big girl, baby. I think you can handle three." He flashes a grin as he adds a third finger, and you rock down, moaning so loudly that if there WERE neighbors, they'd be calling the cops. "Come on now, I know you ain't shy. Moan for daddy. Make lotsa nice noises for daddy-- that's it."

"Fuck," you breathe, feeling your orgasm race.

"Come on, let em know!"

"FUCK, DADDY! Deeper-- deeper, right there!"

"Hell yeah. Hell yeah, baby, scream for me!"

You shout his name as you come for the first time, and he gives you a second to calm down before he threads his hand with yours on the kitchen floor.

"You good?"

"Yeah," you gasp, and he parts your legs, using your slick to pump himself a few times before getting between and pushing in. "Ohgod--"

"Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

He starts up a rhythm, holding you tight, propping your head up in his arms as he fucks you good and deep, harder with each snap of his hips.

"So close," you ramble, grinding down to meet his thrusts.

"Am too." He holds your hand, keeping you pinned as he waits for you, slowing his pace to gentle circles of his hips until you cry out, gushing around him again. He then fucks you hard through your amazing climax, keeping you close to him. He pulls out, rubbing your clit to draw you out as he comes as well, some hitting your inner thigh. You bite your lip, laying down and closing your eyes in bliss.

"'M all fucked out," you yawn, and Cliff keeps himself propped on his forearms above you. He shakes the blonde locks out of his face.

"You got exactly what you wanted, didn't you?" he smiles.

"Exactly what I wanted." You sling your legs around his neck, and he holds them there, massaging them lightly.

"I suppose you'll be wanting the rest of that mac and cheese?"

You shrug. "I've had enough. I'd rather fuck all night out there on your beach."

"Not my beach."

"On a beach. The beach."

"Thought you were all fucked out."

"Feelings are fleeting. They change moment to moment. Now are we gonna have some more fun or what?"

He chuckles, and picks you up so that you're riding on his shoulders. He then walks the two of you out the back door to the beach. "And away we go!"

[stormyweaver]

Okay so... *ahem* I feel like so far, my lil’ fics I’ve posted have had a decent balance of snz + story, which I personally like to read when I browse through stories in general. But uh... if you’re looking for balance/canon stuff/awesome wordiness, this ain’t it lol. This is pure indulgence that I drummed up one night and swore I would never show anyone. Then I decided ‘Eh, maybe someone else might get a kick out of it’ so! Without further stalling, here’s some pre-season 1 Wa/lking D/ead featuring Rick and Shane during their police academy days. 

"C'mon man, quit fightin' it!" "Shade, I swear to God I'm gonna... g-gonna..." "Gonna sneeze again? Hell, blind man could'a told ya' that," While a grinning Shane leaned against the end of the bed, Rick reclined off the side, hands shakily hovering over his nose. He'd had a cold for the past three days, and it finally made a head the day BEFORE their fucking latest physical test was scheduled. He could deal with the fatigue, aches and general malaise - he’d pushed through worse - but did he really have to sneeze every other minute?! "Ugh, n'do, I'mb-- hih!" Rheumy eyes glazed over, close to slamming shut as his nose twitched, tingles running rampant along the lining of his sinuses. He could fight it, he could, he just had to concentrate... "Swear to God, man, you look like you're about to cum," That- that did it. "hhiiIh-- ihhTSCHH! Hih'TXSHH! iiHHSHH! ih'SHH! 'TSHH!" The fit landed into his cupped palms point blank, each one spilling out until his body figured itself satisfied. Groaning, Rick grimaced at the mess left behind on his palms, leaning over to pluck a tissue from the box on his nightstand. "I'b blamig' you for that," Meanwhile, Shane merely side-eyed his friend, a light smirk on his lips."Told ya'. Bless you, anyway, like - times five? Shit, never could keep count with you," Teasing Rick had to be his favorite pastime, even vying for first with boning the hot chick from the local bar on the weekends. He was just too easy to get under the skin of, especially with how pathetically miserably he appeared. Though, Shane couldn't deny that, this particular jabbing session had an underlying purpose. After spending the last couple of days with a walking germ incubator, he'd already begun to feel a sore throat coming on day two. Now, there was a distinct heaviness lining his lungs, a sluggish lag creeping into his bones, and damn if he didn't wanna claw his own sinuses out. But like hell would he ever let Rick onto that fact. No willingly giving ammunition for being harped on, it simply wasn't allowed between them. The sound of Rick gently blowing his nose caught Shane's attention, another chuckle passing through his lips. "Can't imagine how you're breathin' through all that gunk, man," Going back to his book, Shane flinched as he felt something soft, papery and distinctly damp land atop his hand. Gagging, he quickly flicked the used tissue to the side, "Oh, fuckin' sick, asshole!" Turning around to reach up, he grappled for Rick's flannel to pull him onto the floor, but the other wasn't going without a fight. "Take's one to know one!" he shot back, shifting so he was on his belly and pushing himself back off the edge and out of Shane's grasp. Even the slight tousle had Rick coughing into his fist, but Shane didn't back down. Closing his book, he crawled atop the bed, taking the momentarily preoccupied Rick and pinning him down -- wrists in hand, knees locking his legs into place. Grunting in defiance, Rick shot daggers at his friend, not enough to really show anything besides a large irritation, though. "Dick," Shane merely shrugged, leaning in a bit to sing-song, "Take's one to know one~" with a snicker. Rick could only roll his eyes, sniffling heavily as he-- Oh, shit. He was gonna sneeze again. Though it would have been the ultimate revenge, the merciful part of Rick really didn't want to stack up the odds of his friend catching this. After all, Shane fit the mold when it came to who was a bigger asshole between them. Couldn’t go ruining that dynamic. "Shane, lem'be up," he insisted, shifting his hips between Shane's fucking thunder thighs as he wrinkled his nose tight. "Uh-uh, not 'til you say you're sorry 'bout tossing your snot rag at me..." His tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, "...aaaand you admit that I'm better at puttin' together a Remington. 'Cause you know it's the truth," Snorting, though Rick couldn't identify if it was indignant or reflexive, he began to squirm in earnest, shaking his head. "I-I'm serious, man, lebbe up, I gotta..." Rick felt his lungs begin to spasm, breath catching on the last word. Still clueless, Shane rose a brow at his friend, "What’s more important than tellin’ me I’m right? Nice try, but, nah. Jus' say it an' I'll let ya' go, brother," A sudden huff exited Rick's lungs, and this time his eyes rolled up in preparation of the sneezes just itching to barrel out of him. Shit, he had to move--! "S-Shane, I... I gotta... hiihhh!..." Oh, screw it, he wasn't gonna go through this again. Maybe it was time for a little bit of payback for all that teasing. It seemed by the time Shane had put two and two together, brows raising just as Rick tilted his head back, flared nostrils exposed and damp. "hh'ITSHH'uh! ih'TSHHH'uh! hih'ISHHU!" Whether it was shock or slowed reflexes, Shane got hit smack in the face with the first one, raising an arm to shield himself from the next pair. He groaned in tandem with Rick, who allowed his head to fall back with a thick snuffle. "Ugh, damb that felt good," and a mildly satisfied smirk. Wait, his hand was free-- YES! Ignoring his streaming nose with another sniffle, Rick took Shane's momentary stunned state and flipped him onto his back, reversing their position in under two seconds. "You fuckin'--!" Shane started, attempting to break free from Rick's grasp, but even with a cold the man still knew how to pin someone down. Nostrils flared, Shane sighed and glanced off to the side, swearing again before peering up at Rick with a grimace. "Seriously couldn'ta warned me before ya' sprayed all that shit on my face?" A scoff flew past Rick's lips. "I tried! You wouldn't listen, stubborn ass," Sighing, he glanced down between them before giving Shane an exasperated look. "What, you wanna get me back?" Well... maybe it was kinda too far. Definitely gross. Shane had asked for it, but, Rick honestly hated seeing that hurt puppy dog look on the others face. Damn struck sympathy chords. "... Alright here, you can punch me in the arm, alright? That make ya' feel any better?" Before he could get an answer, Shane had been silently fighting an internal battle of his own. While Rick tried and failed miserably to stave off his fittish sneezes, Shane had actually been doing a fair job of ignoring the tingling within his own crooked nose. But with all the rough and tumbling, and surprise from being sprayed in the face, tingling had morphed into an all out itch. His expression was already going slack, eyes lidded as his lips parted to suck in air so as to fuel the inevitable sneeze. Rick, knowing that expression all too well by now, groaned and tilted his head to the side. "Jus' make it quick, man," Shane managed to gasp out a chuckle, bunching his nose up and down as the tickle worked his sinuses. "T-tryin', man," Fuck, he had to sneeze so bad, why wasn't it coming out?! He sniffed, heavily, feeling his chest expand beneath Rick -- and then nothing. Groaning, he squirmed a bit under Rick, his left leg beginning to job from the anxiousness of waiting. "Fuck, man, i-ihhh... i-it won't come out!" He gasped in disbelief, feeling ridiculous as his expression twisted all from a stupid tickle in his nose. Oh. Oh, geez. Rick glanced back to Shane in a mixture of awkwardness and pity - he knew how much a stuck sneeze sucked ass. And as much as his friend deserved at least a part of this, he wasn't a complete jerk. "Alright, alright hold on," Letting go of his wrists, Rick leaned over and yanked another tissue from the box, trying to ignore how... weird it felt, having Shane kinda writhing underneath him. "Tried this the other night, an'... look, it's weird okay?" He sighed, fingers twisting the tissue until it reached a fine point, "But it works so, jus' shut up and lemme help ya'," Shane wasn't about to say no - he'd wanted to sneeze in the first place, now this was just getting ridiculous. "I-I'd try snortin' p-pepper at tthis point," But, he reckoned a tissue would be a lot less painful. He tried not to tense up as his friend brought the implement to his nostrils, but he couldn't help seizing up once it slid past the rim. "huuhh--uhhh-uuUUH--" Still, nothing but build up, and he let out an audible groan. Rick tried not to wince at his friend's obvious discomfort, biting down hard as he attempted to wiggle the tool deeper into his nose. "Jus' try and relax, s'what I had to do. Uh... t-think of somethin' that makes ya' sneeze. Like that one girls perfume, last month, remember? Shit, thought you'd just about sneeze out the entire club that night, firin' one after the other. Think'a that, okay?" Oh God, that... Shane could recall with almost perfect clarity that night, not too long ago. Whatever cheap, heady scent the girl had on, it did NOT agree with his sinuses. Shane had little problem sneezing then, barely able to get a word in-between, and Rick all but led him out into the night air. But, it stuck with him, all over his clothes, his hair... so tickly... and he'd been so.... so fucking sneezy... "Hhhhoooh God, R-rick...! T-t-think it--  think it's wuhh-huh! w-workin'..." Shane's head had tilted back as far as it could go, and this gave Rick better access to really work at his nose. He wiggled the tissue,  giving twists as he slid it in and out of his friends nostril. Just seeing the way his expression was falling almost made Rick's own nose twinge in sympathy. "Uhhh-UHHH---!" He'd hit the spot. Rick assaulted the area as best he could, hand clenched onto Shane's shoulder as he encouraged him. "Jus' ooone more..." With that, he flicked the spear, twisting it twice before sliding it out, slowly, from Shane's nose. And that seemed to do it. "huuhh--hHHUUUH---HHH! HH! HHHUURRRUUSHHHOOO!" Shane finally released, so powerful a sneeze that he rose and bumped his forehead against Rick's with the force of it. "Ghh--!" Rick staggered backwards, falling back onto the bed with a hiss as his fingers rose to massage his temple. "Shit," he chuckled, cracking an eye open to glance at Shane, "Damn, when I said fire, I didn't mean liter-- Oh..." Anyone could tell by the hazy desperation on Shane's expression that he wasn't yet finished. Hitching softly, he brushed the knuckle of his index finger against the tip of his nose, a shudder running down his spine before he sneezed again, openly. "hhHUURUSHHHH'UHHh! hHHAHHH'KSHHH AAHHH'SHHH'huh!'hue... Ohhh, fugck," Shane moaned, ignoring the ache in his head in favor of massaging the sides of his nose. It still felt like he could sneeze his brains out, but a little less insistent than before. He sniffled, yes, full on sniffled, feeling tears trickle from his eyes and sighed. "... So, uh... think ya' mighta' got m'be sick," he mumbled stuffily, sniffling again and scrubbing at the side of his nose with a finger.

Rick could only huff out a congested sigh of his own, gazing at his friend with a small, apologetic smile as he passed him the box of Kleenex. “Misery loves company,”

[1-800-seo]

— 1-800-SEO'𝗌 ᯽ '𝖶𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇' —

— 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

— 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗒

— 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 1810

— 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗝𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝘃𝗹𝗼𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗮 𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗼𝗺 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂

— 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅/𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖴 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖴𝗇𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝗋 𝖦 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖦𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅

The familiar ping sound of a new email in your inbox reassures you that you *are* an actual administrative assistant that works in an office and you most likely shouldn’t be ogling the hot guy in the adjacent office building. Considering it’s your first week, it’s not exactly how you’d like to be caught not doing your work if you had to be. You’d started that week as administrative assistant to the executive manager of New Calibre Telecommunications, or NCT for short. He was a slim nice-enough young man named Lee Taeyong; you were in charge of writing or transcribing his letters/emails, making travel arrangements, computing and preparing expense reports and creating department budgets. Just two weeks earlier when you’d said you’d got the job to your brother he’d called you an over-glorified and well endowed personal assistant, and you guess you could say he was right.

This all brought you back to the email that was now sitting in your inbox, one minute old and unopened. Its sender was a Jung Jaehyun, a name you’d never heard before but supposed it was nothing new since you, your self, were new.

You opened it and inside was not the general corporate jargon you expected. Upon your screen was a blank video thumbnail and it’s relative play button, a url link, and a message below it. It read: “For Jeffery who loses everything and who must remember to back up his hard drive.” It also featured a few casual excessive emojis that your computer only registered as a small question mark box, because of course it didn’t register emojis.

You pondered clicking on the play button but decided against it, instead clicking on the url link that was oh so tempting. Upon clicking on it you were swiftly redirected to YouTube.com, you rolled your eyes expecting a rick roll, when in actuality what seemed to be a vlog appeared. The title was “Daily Jaehyun: Post-hotel-hopping Wind Down ⛩✨” Curiosity overtook you and you clicked play, you knew you shouldn’t be doing this in work hours, however a few seconds couldn’t hurt. A smooth and tanned skinned young man lay on a bed in the middle of a hotel room. He had on shorts that were probably too short and no top. His torso was obscured by the blanket but you could still make out his taut muscles underneath the fabric. His hair looks soft and gently rests on his face as he lies horizontally. Next cut is to a glass cup of pink coloured tea and a spoon swirling around the edges. He cuts to him taking a gentle sip and then he pushes some hair out of his dark amber eyes. You hear footsteps in your peripheral and X off the tab. Just in time before the new intern, a somehow harsh looking baby faced girl named Yeji, places a pile of papers on your desk and leaves. A close call.

And so your day goes on like normal... except you can’t get those damn 25 seconds of a certain video out of your head. His gentle face remains seared into your brain. The brand of soft visuals and taut muscles. The contrast of his sharp jawline and the pink tea. The colour matched his gently blushed cheeks, the rose flush that dusted over his honey skin.

And so you went home and couldn’t get him out of your head. You lay awake seeing the image of him sprawled across the hotel king bed, replaying it and relaying it to yourself. You resolved you had to do something, whether that be finish the video or speak to this Jaehyun.

And so, the next day you set about that task. You opened up that email for the second time, this time hovering over the sender’s information. It revealed to you many interesting things. A few of those being that the sender, Jung Jaehyun, sent it from a pc on floor 9, and that pc is located in office 34G, which is part of managerial.

Well now you know this information all you had to do was go visit that specific office in the hopes of a findings. A lingering question stuck out, who is Jeffery? And why was he sending his vlog to him? Of course you have to inform the sender that he sent it to the the wrong person and you definitely didn’t just email him this because you definitely don’t want to see his face, *definitely not*.

You leave your desk and make your way to the lift. Stepping inside, you squish yourself as far back to the wall as possible as fellow office workers pile in. It’s all a bit too close for comfort when you are saved by the bell, or in this case the automated voice saying “Floor 9, Doors Opening.” Everyone removes themselves from the lift and you straighten out your work outfit. Thank goodness you ironed your pencil skirt this morning, never knew you’d be meeting a YouTuber; and possibly a hot one at that.

You make your way to office 34G, dodging past colleagues in the marketing sector. You spot a guy in the closest desk you know as the infamous ‘Ten’, chugging a brown liquid in a vodka bottle you *really* hope is coffee and nothing else.

You approach the needed door and knock firmly twice. Your palms start to sweat and you rub it off on your skirt. A smooth voice calls “come in” and you make your way through the door. A familiar pair of eyes meet your gaze and you begin to wonder if this was a good idea after all. After a small nervous cough you begin, “Sorry to interrupt, I’m ____ ____ from floor 8, I’m administrative assistant to Mr Lee. I received an email yesterday around 2pm and it was rather,” you look at the floor and shuffle your feet, “private. I believe it was for someone else. I came here to let you know.” You attempt to make eye contact but his gaze is a tad intense. You try your best to keep your eyes trained on his brown irises and not the expensive looking navy suit he’s wearing. “Ahh my greatest apologies, I’m sorry for any inconvenience. May I ask what was contained in the email? I send out a lot so I’m not too sure as to what it was regarding.” He lets out a low chuckle.

“Umm it contained a video and a short message, if that’s any help.” You try not to let on you watched it, let alone read it, but the blush creeping up your face probably says too much.

The man you identify as Jaehyun let’s out a startled cough and sits bolt upright in his chair. “It wasn’t anything, umm” he runs a hand through his hair, “obscene.. was it?”

A gasp escapes your lips, a breath you must of been holding in that you didn’t realise you were. “Oh no, not at all! You drank some tea in it and that’s all I saw. I’m greatly sorry for invading your privacy, sir. Please forgive me I’ll be leaving now.” You turn to face the door. What had he been sending? That’s none of your business... however you wouldn’t mind maybe getting to see those muscles again... you clear you’re thinking and press down the door handle.

“**Stop**, before you leave, you at least need to let me explain, and make it up to you some how, I’m the one who has put you in this situation, I’m the one who needs to make amends.” A commanding voice calls out. By the time you turn around he’s stood up and has one hand in a pocket and one on his desk. He looks to be in thought, or troubled.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds or looks I swear.” When he says this he doesn’t sound so composed like he has the rest of the time. “Please, have a seat so I can fix this mess.”

“I don’t know, sir, I have already caused enough interruption.” You mumble out.

“Nonsense, have a seat and all will become clear; I’ll ease your thoughts for you as I’m sure you’re curious.” You cautiously take a seat and look up into his hazelnut eyes.

“Basically, I have a YouTube channel as you might have guessed. I’ve tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible since I don’t really want it getting out. It’d only be fuel for my cheeky tormentors who go by Doyoung and Ten. When I finalise a video, I send it to my work computer since it has more space and let it post on there. However I must’ve accidentally sent it through to yours instead. I believe you’re from floor 8, right? Well, I believe I typed in the computer location code wrong and it sent it to yours instead. I should of typed F9 instead of F8 like I must’ve done. By the way, none of my videos are dodgy on there, it’s just travel vlogs and general ramblings so don’t be too worried.” He closes with a nervous laugh and scratch of the temple. He turns to look at you in the eye, most likely expecting an answer.

“Ahh I see now. Well that clears up a hell of a lot. I do have one question though, if you don’t mind me asking...” you twist a piece of hair round your index finger. “No, go ahead, you already know my big secret what more could you ask anyway.” He lets out a soft laugh and his eyes crinkle.

“Ok. So, not to be rude but, who’s Jeffery?” You pose the question that has boggled you for around 24 hours. You’re met with laughter and an embarrassed face palm. “Well... I can tell you that it is just a silly nickname.” He uncovers his face and you see a sickly sweet smile. “A long time friend of mine, Johnny, jokingly named me that during our college days in the frat houses. It was a wild time.” He relates whilst reminiscing, more than slightly embarrassed.

“Oh ok, that clears up even more, sooo that makes sense, the email was addressed to yourself. I got it now.” You let out a giggle, “You’ve finally solved the puzzle! Can I give you a prize?” He unexpectedly says.

“A prize? What do you mean?“

“Well I’ve put you through a bit too much and I want to make it up to you. How about I take you for lunch this afternoon? Would that be ok?” He gently says, hands clasped.

“I’d love that. As long as I get to hear more crazy stories.”

“Of course, the tales are complimentary, the company is what you pay for.” He jokes, a smile creeping up his face.

[disappearinginq]

Dear god the 'shippers' in the Magnum fandom are driving me mad. They're like rabid little zombies! I'm cool with Higgins. I'm even okay with the idea of Magnum and Higgins getting together, in like season 10 or so. But if we don't get a third season it'll be because the shippers are messing with the writer's heads and I just wanna drop kick some sense into them all! (Sorry, this is the only place I know where I can vent and not get jumped on for not loving 'teh Miggy' Urgh.

Ha! You’ve come to the right place. I realize that half of what I don’t like about her character is that her ‘badass self’ doesn’t have to change - but why does it always have to be at the expense of others? Like Batman doesn’t become less awesome because Wonder Woman is on the screen. The ‘ship wars’ ultimately destroyed Arrow - and those fans went after real life people and made their lives a living hell (just look up what they did to poor Katie Cassidy) or harped on Stephen Amell getting together with Emily Rickards off screen (despite Stephen being happily married to someone else), or how JohnLock shippers almost made Martin Freeman quit because of the atrocious things being said to his real life wife. I’m not sure why people feel the need to get shitty to one another personally over a fictional character, but...holy shit. Being goddamn psychos about it does nothing but push others further from liking a show (never mind the character). You want to endear me to Higgins? Come up with a plausible/non-romantic reason she’s as two faced as a double sided coin when it comes to interacting with Magnum. She’s lost a fiance? Boo-hoo. Magnum and his best friends were sold out to a terrorist organization who imprisoned and tortured them for over a year and a half, then she tried to kill him and possibly had a hand in the death of one of his best friends and he still manages to have compassion. Her mother had dementia? Wah wah. TC’s father has blown him off at every turn after spending TC’s younger years in prison after his mom up and left them, and ohhhhh looookkk....he’s STILL A HUMAN TEDDY BEAR. Rick was raised by ORGANIZED CRIME MEMBERS. HE WAS A SNIPER. Not just a sniper, but a SCOUT SNIPER. He had a more personal look than most when it came to combat, and guess what. Not only does he still volunteer to help build houses for disabled veterans, help his employees at every turn, his besties, but also manages to still be a cheerleader for everything that his friends accomplish. Is it fair to compare tragedies? No. But at the same time, they’re just making her look like she’s the one who lets every little thing be an excuse to be an ass - and then pout when she doesn’t get her way. Like...are the rabid shippers mad when we don’t like that because that’s the part they identify with?  

I also really wonder if there’s multiple writing teams. Because like Blood Brothers was straight up showing how they didn’t actually need her. And for anyone that actually knows how life rafts work, they kinda made her look extra dramatic trying to be relevant. Fun fact: nobody actually wants to have to do complex satellite recon and math to figure out where a life raft is, that’s why they have GPS installed. So that could’ve been all of 30 seconds - “I found the GPS transponder, it washed ashore on the island here.” She also comes off as either 1) especially heartless or 2) the writers confirm that she had absolutely nothing to do with anything in the Middle East during her time as an MI6 agent beyond rubbing elbows with diplomats. As soon as she says “we break the law for life or death”, anyone who has ever dealt with the shit show that is Afghanistan/Taliban knows she hasn’t got a clue - illegally fleeing Afghanistan is the only way out of it. And if Ahmed was returned to the Taliban, he would be lucky to be forced into the Taliban. It is much more likely that someone who is seen as friendly towards the West will be horrifically tortured and publicly executed (probably filmed too). And like throwback to the second episode of season 1 - she speaks Arabic. Arabic has like a million little offshoots and dialects and that’s what makes it interesting but also really difficult for translators (or you know, spies) to learn it well enough to blend. Typically though, Arabic is primarily spoken in countries we’re not in direct conflict with - like the UAE and as she mentioned Saudi Arabia (even if she got the prince’s name wrong, we’ll just assume that was a writer error). Which means her relations were diplomatic, not combat, so she has approximately no leg to stand on when throwing around ‘you should do it legally or not at all’ since in reality no, you cannot have a history of being a foreign spy and come retire here in the US, but also - rich, white, female of a country that if she ever gets deported back to isn’t going to behead her on YouTube after torturing her in a public square to serve as a reminder to others who think they could have a chance....well. You can draw your own conclusions on that one. 

Anyway. 

On that note, I actually am really trying to make the character understandable, at least in fanfic, but damn. It’s a goddamn mountain, lemme tell you. 

[bringmecoffeeandroses]

So, I did a stupid thing and re-watched 9x09.

And, while I think I’ve said my peace on the mistreatment/use of one Paul Jesus Rovia (actually, no, I haven’t, I never will because my sweet badass boy is dead and it was all a waste and tragedy and I die on this hill, okay?) I do think there were a few things I wanted to make note of. Go no farther if negativity or Adaptation spoilers/content bother you.

So, here goes my long-ass post:

I said this when I first saw the opening minutes, but I’m so glad AMC took the time to show us Paul’s dead face and blood gushing out of his chest. Definitely not a sign that they’re recapping the last episode for the people that didn’t tune in to 9x08.

Also, thank you for exploiting the hell out of the “shock” of Paul’s dead body but giving the brain stab so little time it was hard to figure out what the hell he was doing. It’s really important to leave that in though or I wouldn’t have thought anyone was smart enough to do it. ‘Cause these people haven’t been doing this for ten years and you’re assuming your audience is too dumb to realize anything happens off screen.

Why would they not have a permanent guard on Negan? Like I get it, he’s been locked for years but they weren’t even doing it back when Rick was alive and I gotta tell you, that’s fucking insane. Like, we’ve literally seen that Maggie wasn’t the only one who wanted justice, what would stop someone from Oceanside agreeing with Maggie and going off to murder Negan??? (It also might have been nice to see a real situation in which Negan escapes with an act more direct than Father Gabriel being a dumbass but whatevs. (No, I don’t care if the comics did this. In comics, Maggie came after Negan after he escaped and assuming that one of the Saviors wouldn’t take the opportunity to bust him out or someone from one of the three communities he terrorized wouldn’t come to kill him is a kind of interesting dynamic - protecting everyone from Negan but also protecting Negan from everyone else. Just...more interesting.)

Negan walking around with a shovel in a house where he might meet Judith or Michonne makes me itchy. Unless he’s planting sunflowers, that shovel can stay the fuck away from my Grimes girls.

Still think you should’ve just shot him, Jude.

Okay, Negan’s speech about how Alexandria is a wonderland is fairly easy to follow. But part of what Rick was trying to teach everyone was that you need other communities, the saviors could be saved, ect. It’s definitely not like the comics in that Negan learns the lesson about civilization being “protecting the weak among us” but my biggest problem is that it’s all kind of moot in that TV!Rick was wrong? Like, the communities have nothing to do with each other, particularly Alexandria? And the Saviors are dead or gone? This is the problem when you try to shove too much into a ton of character exits and time jumps AND you try to follow comic storylines without applying the message/main character arc from it. You might think I’m over-exaggerating but it’s half the reason Negan contrasts with the Whisperers and ends up killing Alpha. He’s showing loyalty to Rick, yeah, but he also identifies the reason he is different from the Whisperers. They give no mercy to weakness and that’s what makes them animals - that’s the lesson Rick Grimes was trying to teach Negan by saving him.  

(I’m just saying, Negan’s redemption arc is gonna be damn hard without Rick and Judith  - who has no connection with who Negan was and is still not developed - is not a character that can show that narrative.)

I know that Eugene talking in riddles is a quirk but can someone tell the writers that some quirks are not necessary in every damn scene and are obnoxious and mood-breaking? Just let Eugene be silent and terrified please?

I should also note that I see no head wound on Paul and I am completely and utterly okay with that.

So, I have serious issues with the “Jesus chose to be out there”/ “It was bound to happen” lines. Like yes but also no? Paul might have been reckless in the past by going out but that had little to no bearing on why he was out now? He was rescuing Eugene. You were out there for the same reason, Aaron. He didn’t die on a picnic in the woods. An enemy snuck up on him. Period. And the alternative was either you or Daryl or someone else from your group dies because they get surprised by them. Or you leave Eugene to fend for himself in the barn. Which I’m all for if it meant Jesus would be around but. you know. I’m all for a grieving person thinking this way - a lesson learned in fear - but that better be resolved, if only for Aaron’s sake. 

Ugh, I hate that no one’s crying over Paul but Tara putting her hand on Jesus makes me really fucking weepy. It’s almost like they could have developed this relationship to a point where it fucking mattered... -_-

10/10, Tammy is getting too much screentime and going to end up on a pike. Caling it now.

Can I ask what happened to the walkie-talkies? They were solar, right? There weren’t a limited number of them in the world, right? Why is this not still a thing? Did I miss something? That would make this Luke/Alden situation moot.

You know, if they wanted to give someone a romance with Rosita, I wouldn’t have complained if it was Tara. I never hardcore shipped it but it would’ve made more sense and this pregnancy thing wouldn’t be an issue. Or, if it was, I’d care more. lmao.

This writing is so stupidly on the nose. Gee, could Henry’s questions also be what’s going on inside Daryl’s head? ~~~The world may never know!!!!!!!~~~  

Weird side note: I love The Dream Team/Jaaryl and all but I feel like the show kind of dismisses the fact that Aaron is (presumably?) a single dad? Like, I love seeing him out there and I’m all for the end of cooping up my precious gays but whats happens to Gracie if he dies? She has no other parental figure.  He is the only person she has and I feel like “making it back to Gracie” is a fear no one considers, not even Aaron? Like, leaving an orphan in this world would be fucking awful, especially since her OG parents were already murdered. Just...this is why this cast of thousands doesn’t fucking work when you don’t explore the communities rather than just a couple characters.

Listen, I give Michonne her due but I firmly believe that Tara could run this place on her own. The show took all that time saying that Paul was a shitty leader that left all the time, the least you could do is point out that Tara has been handling it like a single leader this entire time. Tara handles her shit, man. TARA FOR HILLTOP 2019.

I choose to believe that Daryl going hard on Lydia is redirection of his grief and no one can stop me. Daryl Dixon repressing his feelings is pretty much a life motto for him and I both love him for it and want to hog tie him and drop him into therapy.

I’m deeply not into the Whisperers so far and am kind of glad to be out from TWD’s viewership (hopefully for good) but this reminds me of the odd hope I had watching Fear The Walking Dead. Once upon a blue moon, I’d hoped that FTWD was prequel-ing the Whisperers in TWD. Like, Madison and Alicia would end up being Alpha and “Lydia” and we’d get to really get a feel for the characters in TWD. Lame idea, I guess, but that’s what I wanted to happen. Not that FTWD has been a waste of a show that barely connects with TWD or anything. IDK, I just wanted to share that because this Whisperer storyline is going to be the worst and I honestly hope it all burns.

So, yeah, just a few notes for those who are bored enough to read them.