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#I rewatched it a while back but I never finished the last season
septembermonologues · 9 months
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pausing my one dnd show (critical role) that's my daytime programming to watch my other dnd show (dimension 20) while i eat dinner get ready for bed
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fuckyeahisawthat · 1 year
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I’ve had my share of [Crowley voice] you idiot thoughts at both of them over their terrible communication skills and severe chronic inability to say what they mean. But like. I get it.
For 6000 years, they had to talk in code. They had to express themselves in grand gestures and subtext and plausible deniability, out of fear of being found out. And they got really good at it! They developed a whole secret language of ways to say I love you because they couldn’t say it out loud.
But now that they can—and need to—talk about what they are to each other with actual words, they don’t know how.
Neither of them know how to say what they want, openly, and to ask what the other wants. And (I think this is a crucial component) they don’t know how to fight. They’ve had enough spats to have a 350+ year old apology dance, but they have repeatedly avoided talking about the really big differences in their worldviews and what they value, because those conversations would immediately bump up against the things they try hardest to avoid (doubt and guilt for Aziraphale; rejection for Crowley), and because that could lead to a real disagreement that they don’t know how to get around. And then where would either of them be? Alone.
So they bicker and they have drunken philosophical debates and they make up and do little dances all while not really talking about the big differences in how they see the world. And then when the pressure is on they have horrible miscommunication blowouts where they end up talking past each other and hurting each other deeply because they don’t even realize they’re not on the same page.
Upon rewatch I think this is part of why Crowley seems so unhappy in the early episodes. I think he did hope that once they weren’t working for Heaven and Hell, things would go in a more explicitly romantic direction. (But of course he won’t just come out and say that, until the absolute last ditch moment.) From his POV, he’s made his desires perfectly clear (he hasn’t) and I think he thought that working for Heaven was the last thing holding Aziraphale back. And then they cleared that hurdle and nothing changed. Or not enough. Because the problem goes deeper than that.
And bless(/damn) them, they’re still trying. The confession was clearly so hard for Crowley, and would have been even without the first half of the scene, because he’s working against his deepest insecurities. He can’t even finish his sentences, and yet he’s still trying. And I do think that Aziraphale was working up to his own version of it (he’s so openly physically affectionate with Crowley this season, much more than in the past) but he’s always moved a bit slower with these things, and then it was too late. (It’s always too late.)
But even if they’d both been able to openly say their I love yous, they still have this thing sitting between them, which is that Aziraphale doesn’t understand why Crowley would never go back to Heaven, and Crowley doesn’t understand why Aziraphale would want to. And having that conversation goes right to the heart of how they’ve both been damaged by the system of Heaven and Hell, which is why I suspect they’ve both instinctively avoided it before now. And at some point in s3, they are going to have to talk about that.
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nipuni · 11 months
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OHHHHHHHHH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'LL NEVER BE THE SAME AFTER THIS!!!!!! THIS ENDING?? THIS WHOLE EVERYTHING!!!!! WHERE DO I EVEN START I'M SO STUNNED!!!! WHAT!!!!!
"The end of time" was the most incredible ending I could have asked for!!! We finished watching it all at 3am last night and we spent all of today yelling about it, I can't believe just how good this was!!! I'm so glad we've never watched this show before while this was airing so that we get to watch it all fresh for the first time because we are having the time of our lives now
It was completely devastating and so so inspiring, just exactly how I was hoping for it to be, I already want to rewatch S1 to S4 all over again 😭 the sheer comfort I get from the character of the doctor is insane, I've never rooted for a character so hard and wholeheartedly in my life, he really is the most wonderful being in the universe I'm in tears I'm Wilfred rn what the fuck man I'll never recover from this!!! I feel like a ten year old kid with a new superhero GOD IT WAS ALL SO GOOD I CAN'T ARTICULATE I'd yell about each scene but I'm aware that pretty much everyone has watched this ages ago so you know and I still wouldn't want to spoil anyone that hasn't just in case because going into this unspoiled and knowing nothing about it has been the most satisfying experience ever and I hope more people get to have it too!!! please if you haven't watched this before go do that!! and if you have and it's been a while do it again!!! the acting?? INSANE!! the writing!! incredible!! I have only good things to say!!! I only wish we had 1000 more seasons with RTD and David Tennant I really love this man, I'm so sad to see him go!!! and so happy to get him back for the 60 special!!
When we got to the last episodes of season 4 I was expecting pain and instead I got an unexpected fix-it device that was rather strange but cute so I was somewhat relieved and confused, then the holidays specials were pretty standard and lighthearted AND THEN THE WATERS OF MARS? INSANE EPISODE, I loved it so much, that whole part at the end FANTASTIC they went there and I LOVE them for it!! another favourite episode for sure, and THEN THE END OF TIME?? by this point Nicolas and I were twisted into a single pretzel on the couch bracing ourselves, it went from extremely intense to SO FUNNY to heartbreaking and just...amazing!!! AAAAAA anyway!! I had to get all that out of my system, now onwards to S5!!! I'm curious to meet Matt Smith's doctor 😊
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callsign-venus · 10 months
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I'll Be Home for Christmas | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader
Description: With Bradley on deployment, you don't find the Christmas season as cheery as usual. The Daggers make it their mission to help you get into the holiday spirit. Cue intensely competitive gingerbread house decorating competition.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Fluff with a teeny dash of angst. Drinking. That’s pretty much it. Really just self-indulgent, friendship-heavy fluff with lots of pining. Enjoy x
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Nat King Cole’s voice dances out of your record player has you put the finishing touches on your cranberry Aperol spritzes. Their cherry warm color makes you smile despite yourself. 
You have always loved Christmas, but this year it hits you like a truck – and not even one with a tree strapped on top. All the little traditions that usually warm your heart with holiday cheer feel just plain sad to do alone. You had a tremendous battle with your artificial tree, which fell on you twice. You were proud of yourself for not crying, and in the end you were able to admire all of its eight feet of glory. Then you remembered you had to light the whole thing. Two hours later, you had undone no less than three tangles of light strands, found out two of them were dead (and all your untangling had been for nothing), and had one big cry fest for yourself. Not even a steaming cup of cocoa made you feel better after that disaster.
Wrapping presents for your friends and family, rewatching all your favorite Christmas movies, and driving around rich people neighborhoods to admire their lights hadn’t gone as poorly, but they all made his absence grow harder to ignore.
When Bradley told you his deployment would last through the holidays, you struggled to keep your disappointment to yourself, though you’re sure he could see it shining in your eyes. As much as you would miss him during the holidays, you knew it was worse for him, with only emails and skype calls for comfort – no silly little Christmas rituals to occupy his mind.
“You need help in here?” Natasha’s voice jolts you out of your pity-party spiral.
“No, I just got distracted,” you say, scooping up two of the spritzes and offering her one. “Let’s get this party started.”
Phoenix smiles and accepts your cocktail. She herself had just gotten back from her own deployment, and pretty immediately sensed your holiday ennui. She was the one who suggested this festive evening, and you’ve never been more grateful for her friendship.
While you were listless in the kitchen, she had assembled the most perfect gingerbread house making station you’d ever seen: frosting packed into several near-bursting bags, candy canes arranged in perfect rows, gumdrops with a shimmering dusting of sugar, and a scattering of gingerbread roofs and walls waiting patiently to be dressed.
“Wow, Nat, this looks great.”
“Thank you. I’m sure the boys will mess it up in three seconds flat, but at least you appreciate it.”
As if on cue, your front door bursts open, and a clot of merrily dressed sailors spills into your home, arms stacked with presents for Secret Santa. You point to the open space under the Christmas tree, and quickly your and Natasha’s presents are joined by all the others.
After the presents are unloaded, you and Phoenix are engulfed in hugs. Fanboy is wearing a Santa hat, and he has two in hand that he passes to you and Phoenix, insisting that you put them on right now. You happily oblige, as you’re inching closer to how you usually feel during the holidays now that you’re surrounded by friends. Even Jake is cheery, having rocked up in an ugly Christmas sweater covered with bows and tinsel, which is bizarre yet comforting. You do your best not to think about the person you wish was here most, as the Daggers seem dead set to help you have a great Christmas despite his absence.
“This is for you, our gracious host.” Bob hands you a potted poinsettia. “Thanks for putting up with us.”
“It’s really no problem,” you insist as you place the flowers on the side table by your couch. “I love you all.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Still, we’re a lot, I know.”
He’s not wrong – Coyote and Payback have already found the spritzes and Fanboy’s popped three gumdrops into his mouth – but you don’t mind. Even when the gingerbread house decorating competition starts. Calling it a competition might be an understatement. The Daggers are more than competitive, especially about inconsequential things. Nobody speaks as they draft their houses in bright white icing and stud them with decorative candies. The only way to get them to quiet is through arts and crafts, you muse as you decorate your house with swirls of icing like snow drifts and tiny snowflakes dotting the roof and walls. 
The sabotage begins early, when Hangman reaches for a bowl of peppermints and not-so-subtly brushes his hand over Phoenix's roof, smearing the frosting.
“Hey asshole,” Natasha says. “That’s my house.”
“Oh really? Looks like you got a little smear there.” Jake slides a finger across Phoenix’s carefully piped shingles, messing up her roof even more.
“You’re a dead man, Seresin.” Nat narrows her eyes. She won’t go for Jake’s gingerbread house, she’ll bide her time. You’re glad you’re not Hangman right now.
“Got anymore spritzes?” Coyote asks you.
You nod your head. “In the kitchen, help yourself.”
When Coyote gets up to refill his glass, Fanboy snatches his piping bag and swaps it for his almost empty one. While Fanboy’s distracted, Payback helps himself to the pile of Twizzlers Fanboy’s been hoarding since the beginning of the competition.
“Who is even going to judge these?” You ask almost absentmindedly as you stand a gingerbread couple together at the door of their house with copious amounts of frosting. “We all know whose house is whose.”
There’s a smattering of laughter.
“We’ll figure it out after Secret Santa,” Nat assures you as she completes the retiling of her roof, the eaves perfectly punctuated with peppermints.
Before you can question the logic of that solution, Bob asks for your opinion on colored versus strictly green and red gum drops.
“Hey, no helping the competition,” Fanboy complains.
“What?” You level a heavy gaze on him. “Scared you won’t win if Bob and I combine forces? I would be.”
“I’m just saying, this should be a fair contest,” he says.
You shrug him off and answer Bob, but in the spirit of sabotage, you neglect to tell him about the frosting dried on his cheek.
Even though you’re risking your gingerbread house’s safety, once you’ve finished, you slip into the hall. You refresh your inbox on your phone, and you smile as you see an email from Bradley.
Subject: Miss you
Hey pretty girl. Been missing you all day today. Wish I was there to hang stockings and give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen. Don’t forget to hang it – you can leave it up until I get back. Don’t have a lot of time, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you and I can’t wait to come home to you.
Your heart flutters, as it always does when you get an email from him. You quickly type out a response.
Subject: Miss you more
Hey hot stuff. I’ve already hung the mistletoe and have no plans to take it down until you make me see stars under it. I miss doing holiday things with you (you really know how to wrangle the tree), but Nat especially has been helping me through it. Still, I really miss you. All I need is your arms around me and everything will feel right again. Can’t wait to see you again.
You press send and sigh. You never want to complain – it’s Bradley who had to live on an aircraft carrier for months at a time – but sometimes it feels so unfair for two people to be so in love and yet spend the holidays all alone.
You give yourself a moment to collect yourself before you go back to the increasingly hostile competition. Jake has icing in his hair – you know Phoenix is responsible, but her wrath won’t end there – and Payback’s house had a giant fist-sized crater in the roof. Surely unrelated, Coyote’s knuckles are dusted with gingerbread crumbs. You couldn’t help the smile the chaotic scene pulled from you. Especially since your gingerbread house remains in pristine condition.
You thank Nat for watching over it, and she responds with a bright smile. “No problem, I can’t have the boys messing up your Christmas celebration.”
“Hey!” All the boys except Bob protest in unison. Phoenix raises her brows, point proven.
Once all of the gingerbread houses are complete and aligned in a row like a candied neighborhood block, the party shifts toward the Christmas tree. Bob distributes presents to each of you. Yours is an envelope, and you know it is from Nat. Your name is written on the thick, cream paper in Nat’s graceful script, which you know like your own after years of friendship.
“No one can beat my present,” Nat boasts as she catches you studying the envelope.
“Oh we’ll see,” Coyote says.
You swallow down a little lump, seeing everyone around the tree without Rooster. Though you love and appreciate your friends, the emptiness of his presence is almost smothering.
Your mood warms when Jake volunteers to go first. You’re his Secret Santa, and just as you predicted, he loves the smartphone-controlled paper airplane you got for him. He opens it and has it folded  in a matter of seconds. He syncs it to his phone, and his first flight ends with the plane crashing into Coyote’s head.
“Durable.” Hangman remarks as he picks up the paper airplane, which holds its shape just fine.
“Asshole.” Coyote replies.
Payback is next, and he gets a bottle of scotch from Jake. You don’t know much about scotch, but from Payback’s reaction, you can tell it’s a really nice bottle.
Coyote gets Bob a navy Aran sweater, which Bob wastes no time throwing on.
“Feel how soft!” Bob says as he smothers Coyote in a hug. Cue three minutes of Bob inviting everyone to touch his sweater – you can’t blame him, though, it is really soft.
Bob’s gift to Coyote makes you wonder how Nat is going to top it. Bob made a crochet version of Taffy, Coyote’s miniature pinscher. 
“Thank you, I love it.” Coyote cradles the crocheted dog tight, and you wonder if you’re just imagining the tremble in his voice or if he’s actually about to cry.
“Come on Javy,” Jake says, “don’t go all soft now.”
Fanboy gets a countertop pizza oven from Payback, which instantly becomes one of his most prized possessions based on the sheer amount of pizza he consumes.
“Thanks, man.” He gives Payback a friendly punch on the arm. “You all have to come over for pizza night.”
You all hum in agreement. Fanboy’s pizzas are amazing, and you wouldn’t mind spending another night with everyone together. Well, almost everyone. You swallow down the lump in your throat.
Phoenix opens her gift from Fanboy slowly, as if she’s afraid of its contents. She peels back the shiny green paper to reveal a charcuterie board and a set of cheese knives with wooden handles that match the board. She hugs it close to her chest and mouths thank you across the room to Fanboy, who doesn’t notice because he’s reading the pizza recipe included with his oven.
Finally it is your turn. All eyes in the room land on you, strangely sober despite the freely flowing spritzes. You give Phoenix a quick glance as you slide a finger under the flap of the envelope, but her expression is unreadable.
“It's a…” you say as your fingers graze a satiny band of fabric. “Blindfold?”
You hold it up for everyone to see. Everyone’s expressions are carefully arranged to not convey anything. Not quite the laughter you were expecting. A sense of uneasiness blooms in your stomach.
Nat stands up and takes the blindfold out of your hands. Quicker than you can think, she’s tying it around your head.
“What is going on?” You ask.
She finishes the bow and pats your shoulder. “Just you wait.”
A few suppressed snickers fill the room and make your uneasiness melt into dread. The gentle shush of a door opening and closing makes it worse.
“I swear, if you guys are ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas-ing’ me right now I will be so angry.”
The silence that falls after you speak is so, so loud. No one turned the record, so even Nat King Cole is quiet. But then you hear it. It’s hard to explain, but you’d know that breathing anywhere. You’d spent many nights falling asleep to that gentle lullaby or hearing it as he held you close in the kitchen, neither of you caring that dinner was burning on the stove.
You rip off the blindfold, and there he is. Bradley. Bradley. Standing next to your Christmas tree, a bow tied around his chest. The Daggers surround him like magician’s assistants, all their hands raised in a sort of ta-da manner.
You leap off the couch and into his waiting arms. He smells like an aircraft carrier and shitty coffee, his clothes rough and government-issued, and his hair cropped a little too close to his head than you know he likes – but he’s yours. He’s yours in the way his embrace consumes you, blurring the line between you and him, erasing the months and miles of distance between the two of you. He’s yours in the way the beat of his heart drums in rhythm with your own. Yours in the way that you are his as well. He lifts you up so your feet dance in the air, pressing kisses to the top of your head.
He sets you down and crashes his lips into yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth unabashedly, and despite your audience, you let him. The kiss is long enough that you start to feel bad for everyone else, so you sheepishly pull away.
“Goddamn, Rooster,” Hangman says, “let the girl breathe.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves the comment away.
But you don’t want to breathe. Not if your other option is to kiss Bradley until you’re both oxygen starved. Because you’re starved for him, need to feed on his presence. 
Then the realization sets in. Rooster is supposed to be deployed for another month. You wheel around to face Nat. “How the hell did you do this?”
She shrugs. “Loverboy emailed me last week, just after I got home from my deployment. Said he was coming home earlier than expected, and he wanted to surprise you.”
“Wait, so all of you knew?” You pointedly look at everyone, but nobody can quite keep eye contact with you.
Bradley wraps an arm around your waist. “They all did pretty good keeping it under wraps, huh?”
“I would hope so, given our clearance levels,” Jake says.
Everyone laughs, but you’re still reeling. You can’t believe Bradley is here. His calloused fingers rubbing the skin of your back, just under the hem of your shirt. His gentle laugh reverberating against your body, reminding you what wholeness feels like. His lips, slightly chapped (with none of your chapstick to steal on the carrier), murmuring into your hair. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you know what he means nonetheless.
You’d imagined Bradley’s homecoming as a flurry of ripped clothes, bruising kisses, and mutual insatiable hunger, but this is better. All of your friends in the same room, sharing in this festive homecoming, looking like absolute dorks. Fanboy’s Santa hat sits askew on his head. Payback and Coyote are obviously drunk off their asses (they definitely pregamed the festivities, as Payback has been reduced to giggles and Coyote has actual tears streaming down his face). Jake has yet to realize the frosting in his hair, Bob the frosting on his face. And Natasha is a dork by association. You and Bradley too. But the overwhelming love in the room makes you want to sob happy tears.
Bradley happily indulges you all in judging the gingerbread houses. He gets down to eye level with each entry, runs his fingers along the roofs, occasionally snaps off a piece of candy and pops it in his mouth.
“Very good job, everyone.” He speaks to the group as if you’re all kindergartners, reveling in the building anticipation. There’s never a prize for Dagger competitions, but there doesn’t need to be. Bragging rights is all they need, no matter how menial the situation.
Bradley carefully reshuffles the houses in order from last to first place. Fanbody. Jake. Payback. Coyote. Nat. He purposefully shields first and second place. Only you and Bob are left – maybe the least competitive people in the room – and still, tension is thick in the air.
“And the winner…” Bradley’s voice booms like an old-fashioned gameshow host, “...is…”
He finally slides to the side to reveal your house sitting in first place.
Bob sticks his hand up for a high five. Your hands collide with a solid thunk.
 “Not fair,” Fanboy protests. “Rooster’s obviously biased.”
“Come on, he didn’t know whose house was whose,” Phoenix says. “Besides, you weren’t even in the top five, and Payback had a hole in his roof.”
“It’s ok, Nat,” you voice oozes with fake sympathy. “I’d be upset too if I spent so much time on a shit gingerbread house.”
Fanboy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh you want to play that game?”
He lunges around the table, and you immediately grab Bradley to use as a human shield. 
“Lots of talk from someone who’s gonna hide behind her boyfriend,” he says teasingly.
“I’m not hiding.” You tighten your grip on Bradley’s waist, his hands covering yours. “You can get to me, you’re just gonna have to get through him first.”
Bradley puffs out his chest. “Nobody disparages the gingerbread contest queen. She earned her title by being the best.”
Later, because he can’t keep a secret from you (the only thing that saved the Secret Santa surprise was only being able to communicate through email), Bradley confesses that he knew which house was yours the moment he saw it. But still, that one little detail doesn’t negate the fact that you are the gingerbread contest queen.
And Bradley defends your honor well as you maneuver him from behind to keep a distance between yourself and Fanboy. Eventually, Bob steps in to broker a peace deal to end the conflict. Somehow, you are roped in for bringing more spritzes to Fanboy’s pizza night, but he can no longer dispute the fact that you have the best gingerbread house. A win is a win, and your gloating privileges remain.
Later, when everyone is winding down and glancing at their coats hanging by the door, Bradley pulls you into the kitchen.
“Honey, I think our guests are about to leave.” You try to move back toward the living room, but Bradley keeps hold of your hand. “Please, let’s not be rude.”
He shakes his head. “They’ll understand. They know. They know exactly what it's like.”
You relent because he’s right. Even you don’t know what it’s like. Loneliness has been a long lingering companion of yours, but you suffer her presence at home surrounded by close comforts and your parents a short drive away. For Bradley, for Nat, for Jake, for Bob and all the rest, it’s different. It’s their job. They suffer loneliness with mostly long shifts and shitty food for company. 
So you let Bradley chase out his – and your – loneliness in the kitchen. As he pulls you ever closer, his palms flattening you against him, you wonder how you ever survived apart when it was so clear that your souls were really just one.
You break away panting. God knows how long you were indulging, but you just about jump out of your skin when you realize Phoenix is in the kitchen right behind you, pouring herself a glass of champagne.
Your cheeks warm. “Nat!”
“Sorry, didn’t bother me, so I didn’t want to bother you.” She shrugs. “Want a glass?”
You decline, and you and Bradley shuffle out of the kitchen like teenagers caught in the act. Nearly everyone is shrugging their coats on, chatting about the night, when they catch sight of the two of you.
“Now, just where in the hell did y’all run off to?” Jake prods.
You can’t even look at them.
“Just the kitchen,” Rooster says, locking his hand in yours. “Needed to make sure the champagne was still flowing.”
Everyone shares the same knowing look that makes you want to shove them all out the door. Instead, you and Bradley post up at the door like perfect hosts and thank everyone for coming as they slip into the surprisingly chilly night. Then, only you, Bradley, and Phoenix are left.
While everyone was saying their goodbyes, she was sipping her champagne and quietly wiping sugar, gingerbread crumbs, and crusted frosting off the dining table.
“You bitch,” you say as you swoop in to help her clean up. “How come you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out?”
She laughs and takes another sip of wine. “Why don’t you ask Rooster?”
You raise your eyebrows at him. He sheepishly grins.
“In my defense,” he says, “it was a really good surprise.”
“I can’t believe you two.” You laugh. “But thank you for the surprise. It was wonderful.”
You try to direct your gratitude to them both, but something in Rooster’s expression snags your gaze and won’t let go. There’s still an unsatiated hunger heavy in his eyes.
Nat sets down her now empty glass. “Alright, lovebirds, I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”
She gathers her things, and you walk her to the door.
“Thank you.” You give her a hug. Neither of you are super touchy, but your gratitude for her tonight is almost endless. “Thank you for everything.”
“Don’t mention it.” She squeezes you tight before letting go. “Goodnight, Rooster!”
“Goodnight!” He calls from somewhere deep in the house.
“Sounds like he’s waiting for you,” she winks. “See you soon.”
“Get home safe!”
And with that, it’s just the two of you. You expect Bradley to pounce the second the door closes, but he doesn’t appear as you linger by the doorway. Odd. You check the kitchen, living room, and dining room. All empty.
“Bradley?” You call.
“Right here.”
His response floats from down the hallway, from your bedroom.
And sure enough, there he stands in the doorway. Right under the mistletoe you hung up earlier in the week, the biggest grin on your face when you pictured his homecoming some time after New Years, all the Christmas decorations gone except the lonely mistletoe, waiting patiently for his arrival. But now, you can put the mistletoe to good use while Christmas is still bright on the horizon. The warmth of the season bleeds into the warmth of your kiss. Christmas will come as surely as it would have if Bradley was on deployment, but now you welcome it. You want lazy days sipping eggnog and baking cookies. You want late, festive nights at the Hard Deck with the Daggers, getting into pool competitions with Bradley as your loyal teammate despite how disastrous you are at pool, assured in his easy we-lose-together attitude. You want a Christmas morning with presents that don’t matter because the best gift you could ask for has already appeared right by your tree tonight, wrapped in a bow.
“Don’t leave me ever again,” you whisper against his chest.
“I won’t,” he says, “I won’t.”
You both know it’s not something you can ask of him, not a promise he can keep. It’s not fair to either of you to pretend like this will be his last homecoming, the last time you both are starved of each other for months. But right now, it feels good to pretend.
You can’t think long about his future deployments, however. Your worries melt away as Bradley makes good on his promise to give you the best mistletoe kiss the world’s ever seen.
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Nick Amaro- A Crowded Bar Question 
There is now a second NSFW Part 2
I’m almost done rewatching season 13 and Nick Amaro has come back to retake over my life. Not that I’m complaining.  
You sat at the police bar nursing a second long island trying to gather your thoughts. Your relationship with your long-term boyfriend, a homicide detective, had just ended painfully a week prior. He had put you through the wringer while you were together and shredded your self-esteem into ribbons so thin that you didn’t think you would ever be able to put them back together. 
You heard a cheer go out and your eyes darted to where Finn and Nick were playing pool. Nick was showing off twirling the pool stick in his hands, clearly proud of himself. You feel a small smile tug at your lips before it falls again. You shouldn’t have come out here tonight, you were not good company. You feel just a bit beyond tipsy, it would have to be your last drink. You were pretty sure it had been a pity ask anyway.   
You worked in the Crime Scene Unit and had developed a friendship with the SVU detectives. You had thought it was classic work friendships, but as your relationship worsened, you became closer to the people you worked with. This wasn’t the first time you had been out and about with them or at this bar. Your ex frequented here, while he ignored you to hang out with his buddies you had spent more time with the SVU clan. 
“Hey, you okay over here?” You look up and straight into the concerned brown eyes of Nick. He had taken his suit jacket off and his white button-up clung to him in all the right places, the sleeves had been rolled up his forearms. You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. You had been harboring a little meaningless one-sided crush on him for a while. He would never reciprocate it, but he had been kind to you when watching you struggle through your toxic relationship. He was a strong male and protectiveness and strength leaked from him almost as strong as his undeniable charm. 
Nick’s eyebrows pinched together in concern, and you realized that you had been staring at him without answering his question. “I’m okay, just gonna finish this and then head home.” You look at your drink, it is almost gone, and down the rest so that you don’t have to hold eye contact with a very perceptive detective. You throw a tip down on the table and when you stand the alcohol hits you and you feel how strong your buzz really is. A warm hand grips your forearm to steady your slight stumble and you feel heat rush up your arm. 
“Easy now, let me just grab my jacket and I’ll get a car to take you home.” You know by the tone of his voice that it isn’t negotiable and nodded. He leads you with a hand on your lower back over to the corner where the pool table is. He grabs his jacket and you're close enough to smell his cologne. It is musky with a sharp spice, and it makes you take another deep breath to savor the smell. By the time he turns back to face you, the alcohol has disintegrated what little brain-to-mouth filter you possess.  
“Nick, I want to ask you something,” You can feel the weight of his attention shifting fully to you, “But I don’t want to make it weird, and I want you to be honest.” He looks serious as he gives his agreement folding his jacket over his arm. “Do you find me attractive?” His stoic face doesn’t change, and you barrel on embarrassedly before he can answer or you can change your mind, “That is if you saw me in a crowded bar and I was just some random girl you didn’t know, would you look twice?” The silence is heavy but not as heavy as his gaze. The buzz still running through you is the only thing that allows you to stand your ground and not be completely mortified. Just as you're about to tell him to forget it, that you are just drunk, he responds. 
“You want me to be honest Carino? No, I wouldn’t take a second look,” Before the hurt can register, he takes a step forward into your personal space one of his hands still resting on your lower back. His chest brushed yours as he leaned in his mouth next to your ear. “Because I wouldn’t be able to tear my eyes away from you to get the chance. You, not some random girl in a crowded bar. Dios mio, you have no idea what you do to me, do you? How tempting your body is?” His hot breath sent shivers down your spine and his hand moved farther south just above your ass and he pulled you half a step closer, your bodies flush together. Hot dirty Spanish words fell from his lips against your ear. Your drunk brain couldn’t even begin to process enough to try to translate but his tone and his trailing fingertips over the naked skin that was on display between your shirt and jeans made it obvious enough.  
“And let me tell you if you ever came here to meet me in a little black dress, like you did for that pendejo, I wouldn’t be talking to my friends and watching the game. I would be doing everything I could to get you out of it. I’d like to say I would be a gentleman take you home, but more likely I would be convincing you to let me bend you over the sink in the bathroom.” As he is speaking, he is rubbing the stubble of his beard against your cheek and neck. He presses a kiss against your skin where your shoulder and neck meet. His hot mouth nibbles there causing you to throw your head back with a whine. 
He pulls back to look into your eyes and pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear caressing your cheek. You lean into him feeling a pull towards kissing him. He turns his head kissing your cheek instead. “Unfortunately, you are way past the point of consent. But if you decide to act on this when you're less vulnerable, sober. Carino, I will show you exactly how attractive I find you.” He steps back and the air instantly cools. Nick's demeanor changes back to a concerned friend. In those few moments, it had felt like the two of you were alone not in a crowded bar. You glanced around to see if anyone had noticed but between the dim lighting of the corner where his jacket had been and everyone's attention on the game playing on the TVs, it seemed that nobody had noticed the heated exchange.  
It was almost as if it was a dream. You would wonder if you had made the whole thing up the next morning. Just wishful drunken thinking or a too-real dream. It wouldn’t be until you got out of the shower later that day and noticed the slight bloom of a bruise on your neck that you would realize it had been real.  
I’ve been having some problems with my self-esteem and body issues. So, if you are struggling right now too, I hope Nick helped you like he did me. xoxo 
124 notes · View notes
avocado-writing · 1 year
Note
Hey 👋🏻 i just finished rewatching both seasons of good omens 🥲 can i request an ineffable husbands x r with an established relationship? after a night out they go back to the bookshop and r is pissed drunk so aziraphale and crowley tries to help them get comfortable and get settled but r keeps saying “back off i have partners.” and things like that because they’re too drunk to recognize the two which amuses them both. i read something similar online and thought it would be funny with the husbands. thank you so much ❤️
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notes: put this once again in tltdatsib, hope that's ok! also yall: anyway nightingale is drunk / me: YES lmfao
pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale
rating: T
notes: excessive alcohol consumption; gn reader but one reference to them being a primadonna; tltdatsib-verse
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You’re all quite drunk.
The three of you are all impartial to a glass of wine or six after a nice day. Usually you can hold your liquor quite well, but you underestimated the vintage, and now you’re absolutely off your face. Crowley and Aziraphale are happy to sober up the miraculous way, the alcohol returning to its bottle, but you absolutely despise it happening to you and they’d never do it without your permission. So there you are, head-lollingly, body-flailingly drunk on the sofa in the back of the bookshop.
“Come on love, let’s get you to bed,” Crowley says, attempting to heave you into his arms. You push him away and make a low noise in the back of his throat. 
“Did… did you just growl at me?” he asks, both delighted and bemused; torn between actually trying to help you or recording this on his phone so that he can tease you mercilessly tomorrow. 
"My love - " begins Aziraphale, but you glare at him the best you can while barely being able to hold your head up.
“Oi! Back ‘ff sunshine,” you say, holding your hand up and wiggling your fingers, “‘m married! My husbands—spousesssss—won’t be too happy ‘f you chat me up!”
Aziraphale and Crowley exchange a look. You’ve not been this drunk since the three of you were invited to the Diamond Dogs release party in the seventies. Your hangover had lasted a week. 
“Darling,” says Aziraphale with a patient sigh, “we’re your husbands… spouses… oh, look, it’s us!”
"No-oo-oo! Lies! Won't be taken in by handsome strangerssss!" you cry, a primadonna of a show only you can see. You try to launch yourself across the couch for safety but get your foot stuck between two seat cushions.
"'Handsome', eh?" Crowely asks, grinning very wide indeed.
"Yessss, handsome! Very! But 'm TAKEN."
Aziraphale sighs, both wanting this charade to be over and charmed that even when you're too blotto to recognise them, you still find your husbands attractive.
"Look, let me show you proof, darling."
You squint, suspiciously. 
“Eh?”
Aziraphale reaches into his coat pocket to bring out his wallet. It has no cards or cash, nothing that one would actually need a wallet for - but he keeps it for one very particular reason. 
He flips open the leather and holds it out for you to inspect. It has a photo in it: a polaroid, taken for you by a kind passerby on the day of your wedding. It’s of the three of you, arms around each other, all smiling the widest in any photo where you are the subjects. You take it from his hands, scrutinise it, then cringe.
“Oh god, ‘m ‘n idiot…”
You collapse back into the sofa, letting your arm remain in its place so Aziraphale can take the precious wallet back safely. 
"It's alright nightingale. You're just a bit tipsy is all, my love."
"You're so kind to me even when 'm bein' silly..."
"For better for worse. For drunker, for sober...er," Crowley reasons.
“Should go t’ sleep…” you mutter, and before they can help you up, you turn over to face the pile of pillows and immediately make good on that threat. They cover you with a blanket, and Crowley does tease you the next morning.
-
@angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound
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happy74827 · 1 year
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Lost On You
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[Rick Grimes x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Drawn to his strength and resilience, you've secretly fancied the widowed sheriff turned leader. But with recent events turning his smiles into forced fake ones, all that's on your mind is to make it known that he's not alone {Takes place in Season 5}.
WC: 2067
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst
This is officially my first Walking Dead fanfic, which I'm honestly surprised hasn't happened earlier, but I've recently rewatched season five, and it made me remember just how much I love Rick. So, here we are.
『••✎••』
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the makeshift camp that had become a haven for the group after their escape from Terminus. The tension that had gripped them during their ordeal was slowly easing, and a sense of normalcy was tentatively settling in. Amid the camaraderie and relief, one person's heart was beating just a little faster than the rest – yours.
Ever since the days at the prison, you had found yourself drawn to Rick Grimes. His strength, his resilience, and the way he cared for his people… it resonated with you deeply. You found yourself admiring him from afar, with feelings growing with every shared moment. And now, as you sat by the campfire, watching Rick with Judith nestled safely in his arms, those feelings were impossible to ignore.
He changed, though. It was apparent in his eyes. Andrea had mentioned long ago how he was becoming “colder,” but you never saw it until now. Until you’ve (quite literally) were face-to-face with evil.
After the incident with Gareth and his people, Rick rarely smiled. And when he did, it was faker than Daryl’s chupacabra claim. Even when Judith giggled while tugging on his beard, or when Michonne and Carl had random competitions, he never smiled like he used to. The last time you saw him “happy” by definition was back when Hershel was still around.
Rick was no longer the man who gave you hope. You didn't know if it was the guilt of his past actions, the stress of the group's survival, or a combination of the two, but Rick Grimes had been lost somewhere along the road, and you wanted to find him.
Your gaze drifted down to your lap, where the remnants of a half-eaten dinner lay. You weren't sure what Carol had made tonight, but it was good. She was always an amazing cook.
Carol.
She was the only person who knew how you felt about Rick. It had been hard not to talk about it. You two were close, and it wasn't like you were a master at keeping secrets. Carol was, though. She had a talent for reading people and knew right away when you had developed a crush. She always teased you about it.
You were glad she didn't tell anyone, and you were glad to have her as a friend.
With the fire beginning to die down, and the food finished, the others began drifting back to their respective tents. First Michonne, then Carl, Daryl, Carol, and Tyreese. Sasha lingered for a bit, and eventually, Abraham and Rosita. Eugene and Tara had been gone all day scavenging for supplies, and Glenn and Maggie had disappeared into the woods an hour before. They had just recently returned, hand-in-hand, and were giggling and whispering as they headed for their tent.
As for you? Well, you were just waiting. Waiting and watching Rick. You didn't know why, exactly. Maybe you were hoping he would suddenly break out of this new, serious-all-the-time character he'd been portraying. Or maybe you were trying to figure out how to talk to him, how to tell him how you felt.
That thought sent your heart racing again. You took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly.
You couldn't help but feel like the entire world had been waiting for something to change. Waiting for a spark. And when you looked at Rick, you knew. You just knew.
There was something about him. Something special. Something you couldn't explain, but it drew you to him like a moth to a flame. He was the spark you had been waiting for, and the feeling was so strong you could hardly contain yourself.
Rick turned, and you met his eyes. They were a clear blue, a striking contrast to the dark hair that framed his face. His beard was starting to get long, and the curls atop his head were a bit wilder than usual.
Your eyes met his. The smile he gave you was weak, forced. You were tempted to stand up and give him a hug, just to make him feel better. But you didn't.
After a few moments of awkward silence, he stood up, adjusting Judith in his arms as he did so. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering a few times before falling shut once more.
"G'night."
"Night."
And then, he was gone.
You watched as the tent flap closed behind him. He had disappeared so quickly that you barely even had time to register what had happened. You felt like a part of you had just left with him. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. You had been sitting there, watching him, for a long time, and the sudden silence was deafening.
As you headed for your tent, the last of the campers called out to you.
"Night!"
You stopped in your tracks, turning towards the voice. Carl was smiling, waving at you. You raised a hand in response, flashing a brief smile before turning away.
"Night."
You were asleep almost instantly. The day's events had left you exhausted, and it didn't take long for sleep to overtake you. It overtook you to the point that you had slept in until after everyone else had gotten up.
Morning came and you exited the tent, squinting as the sunlight hit your face. The sun was high in the sky, and the others had begun the morning without you. You didn't mind; it wasn't the first time this had happened, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
As you made your way to the main area, you were greeted by several friendly faces.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Glenn teased. "We were starting to wonder if you were ever gonna get up."
You flashed a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I was just exhausted."
You scanned the area for a few minutes, noting that a couple of people were missing. Rick, for example, was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey, Glenn, where's Rick?"
Glenn glanced around the campsite. He scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "Not sure, actually. I haven't seen him this morning. Not since breakfast."
That was strange.
"I'm gonna go look for him," you said,
As you left, Glenn gave you the thumbs up in encouragement before his eyes flashed back to Maggie and Tara. Most likely retelling the events of the previous day.
You soon wandered through the trees, searching for any sign of Rick – or anyone for that matter. Both Daryl and Carol were also missing, but you weren’t concerned about those two. It was more concerning for those who stumbled upon them. Now Rick, on the other hand, he was different.
As of right now he wasn’t the man to mess with. Seeing how he handled those at Terminus, and hearing what had happened the night before from Michonne… you weren’t concerned about the possibility of him getting attacked or injured. Your concern fell towards his mentality.
He was “technically” the leader that everyone had listened and looked up to. Abraham made arguments, mostly of the importance of taking Eugene to DC, but Rick was the one who had the final say. That kind of power and responsibility to lead an entire group to their survival has heavy effects. And now, after so much loss and failure, it finally took its toll.
The sun shined brightly through the trees as you walked, and the air was warm. It was the kind of day you would have spent reading on your back porch, or maybe going for a hike. Before the world ended, anyway.
As you started walking, you couldn't help but notice the quiet. There was no sign of life anywhere. No birds, no insects, no Walkers. It was almost like the entire world had disappeared, leaving you all alone.
The forest became more thick and dense the further you walked into it, with the trees growing more close together. The sun still shined through the branches, but it was still early, and the shadows were deep.
You started your trail back towards the temporary camp when you noticed a noise coming from behind you. You spun around, heart pounding. It sounded like footsteps.
"Rick?"
There was no answer. Just the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.
"Rick?" You tried again.
Nothing.
The silence was unnerving. The sound of footsteps had stopped, and there was still no sign of life anywhere.
Then, suddenly, you heard a branch snap and everything that was peaceful turned into a war zone. You spun around fast with fists clenched. You didn’t even process what it was before you struck it in the face.
Your face fell once you opened your eyes to peek at the danger.
Ah, shit.
Rick straightened out, his hand running over his nose where you had accidentally struck. He seemed a little dazed, but otherwise was fine.
"Oh, god, I am so sorry," you said, wincing. "I didn't know it was you. I thought you were a… I don’t— oh, geez.”
Rick blinked a few times, regaining his composure. His hand fell from his nose, and he gave you a slight smile. Fake, again, but this time you didn’t blame him.
“What are you doin’ out here?” Rick’s voice was low, and he sounded tired. He didn’t look directly at you, instead choosing to gaze past you at the forest behind. It was almost as if he didn’t care to hear your answer.
And it was clear he wasn’t bothered by the fact that you had just punched him in the face.
You found yourself sighing at his words. It was a difficult question. One that had multiple answers.
What were you doing out here?
What was he doing out here?
Why were either of you out here instead of being with the group or resting up after the chaos of yesterday?
The questions buzzed in your head, but the answer was clear.
You were out here because of Rick. You were out here to find him. To talk to him.
You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The two of you stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity, and the awkwardness was palpable.
"You should be with the others.”
The words hung heavy in the air. They were simple enough, but the weight behind them was crushing.
"You should be with them, too," you countered.
Rick's gaze shifted to you, and you met his eyes.
The sun's rays broke through the treetops, illuminating his face. He looked tired. So tired. Rick had always had dark circles under his eyes, but the ones you were seeing now were new. They were a deeper shade than you'd ever seen, and they seemed to have grown bigger.
He was worn down, exhausted, and there was a hollowness to his stare. A dullness that had replaced the fire. And yet, despite all of that, there was still a warmth there. A sense of caring, of love, that was still present.
It was that warmth that gave you the courage to continue.
"I'm worried about you," you blurted.
His expression shifted slightly, his brows furrowing.
"You're worrying about me?"
You nodded, your eyes still fixed on his.
"Yeah. Yeah, I am."
He shook his head.
"You don't need to worry about me."
"Yes, I do. Because I care about you."
Rick stared at you for a moment. He seemed stunned, and the look on his face made your heart ache.
He let out a small sigh.
"You don't have to," he said, his voice quiet. "I'll be fine."
"You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know," you said. "You can let the rest of us help carry the load."
His eyes searched yours.
"You can't save everyone," you continued. "Sometimes you just have to accept that there are some things that are out of your control."
Rick became silent. You could see the pain and conflict swirling in his eyes. He wanted to accept your words, but the guilt was still eating away at him.
He closed his eyes, and the tension in his body seemed to ease a bit.
"I'm just… tired," he said. "I'm tired of seeing people die. Of losing people."
You placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I know," you said. "I'm tired, too."
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Text
Note: request by @bubblyabs! thank you so much!! I hope you'll like it!
Warnings: SKMD SPOILERS. fluff/smut 18+, a lot of fourth wall breaking and my infamous attempt at humor.
pairing: SKMD!Sihtric x Modern!You (f)
summary: The fictional man of your dreams was suddely not so fictional anymore.
wordcount: 5,2k
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'You looked really hot there.'
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There you were again, wrapped in a blanket on your couch, ready to once again finish another binge rewatch of The Last Kingdom. You just couldn't stop yourself. Ever since you became obsessed with the show, you could watch nothing else. No other series appealed to you anymore, and you kept going back to the very first episode, pathetically anticipating the second season, because that's where your favourite character comes in; Sihtric Kjartansson. The man needs no introduction, if we're honest. 
You don't know what exactly it is about him, but you were smitten. Each time he appeared on screen, you needed a glass of water and a cold shower afterwards.
You thought the actor who played him was cute too, you just couldn't really recall his name, you only remembered he had some complicated last name, Federsomething. However, cute or not, nothing was better than the rugged look of that pretty Danish rat boy in that medieval Netflix show. And so, only several weeks since your last rewatch, you were watching the movie again, which was the very last taste of the entire show you would ever get. Until they'll make some lousy remake in 10 years or something, which you would obviouslly not watch because you couldn't stand the thought of all those actors being replaced. Not on your watch.
Anyway, you had cried your absolute eyes out during the movie when you saw it the first time. But more importantly: whoever was responsible for Sihtric's haircut in the movie, was an actual blessing from the lord. Every time you saw his very first scene in that movie, where he walks up to Uhtred, with that long, loose hair, you simply just slide down your couch, being a whole hot mess. The things you would do to get that man in your bed, and the things you would do to him… oh, if only he wasn't fictional. You'd let him rail you, but alas.
And that made you groan each time. The most beautiful and perfect man you had ever seen was freaking fictional! It seems ridiculous, but Sihtric just ticked all your boxes.
He was funny, brave, loyal, adorable, hot, sexy, maybe not the smartest but you had no problem taking care of that man, he was good with weapons, he was protective and a real family man. What else could a you possibly want? You cursed Bernard Cornwell for coming up with the character and whoever casted that actor, as they are clearly responsible for you being forever single. Because you would never settle for anyone who was not Sihtric Kjartansson; fictional character and the goddamn love of your life.
And just like two weeks ago, you finished the movie and switched off your tv, while being a sobbing, snotty mess once again. Your three week holiday had just started, and your initial plan was to stay up late each night, but you had a headache from crying, so you decided to go to bed when it wasn't even close to midnight.
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The next morning you woke up early because of some loud banging. You figured the toddlers of your upstairs neighbours were at it again, banging their fists on the wall, running through their apartment. You could hear their little gremlin claws stomp and scratch everywhere they went. But you had to admit, they were louder than usual today, and it actually sounded like they were kicking and stomping at your front door.
You groaned and got dressed for another day of simply doing nothing. You started your coffee machine and opened the door to your little hallway, which led through the front door. You hadn't checked for any mail downstairs in a few days, and it was time to leave your cave for that little adventure to the main hall of your apartment building.
But you would not get there, at least, not any time soon. No. You were about to get the biggest jump scare of your life, to which you would scream so loud, it would without a doubt wake up the entire city. And after that, everything would turn black in front of your eyes.
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During your unconscious state you had the weirdest dream. You had opened the door to your hallway and found the cause of that weird banging noise. The noise came from your own apartment. The noise was created by a man, kicking at, and rattling your door, in a pathetic attempt to open it. And it wasn't just any man. 
You recognised him from the back within a split second. It was the fictional man of your dreams, dressed in the red-brownish leather armour he wore when you last saw him on your tv, his hair braided and his face bloody and bewildered. You screamed so loud when you saw him, that someone probably called the cops, because it was a horrible, distressing sound. And it also scared the hell out of Sihtric, who turned to face you while reaching for the hilt of his sword as he stepped closer. But after a second, his expression changed from anger to astonishment, and he stared at you, all confused and wide-eyed. You stared into his mismatched eyes as he was merely two paces away from you. 
'Lady?' he said, with the voice and accent that simply set your body on fire whenever you heard it. 
And you randomly thought how Sihtric looked taller on tv than he did in real life, in your hallway, and then everything just turned black.
And it turned out that it wasn't a dream. But it all had actually happened before you passed out, in your hallway. Sihtric had been quick to catch your fall and caught you in his arms. While still completely confused, and in shock, he had carried you into your living room and carefully laid you down on your couch. And as it would take a good five minutes before you regained consciousness again, Sihtric took a quick look around your apartment, growing more confused and concerned with every passing second.
And you suddenly opened your eyes again as he had his back turned to you.
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You blinked rapidly, your eyes trying to focus on the backside of the man in armour, which you recognised all too well. It hadn't been a dream, it all actually happened. And it was still happening apparently. How the fuck was this possible? Did someone prank you? Did someone pay a ridiculous amount of money to hire the actual actor, just to scare the shit out of you and to mess with you? Breaking your heart in the process as you could never be with the man of your dreams? What a sick joke.
While that medieval looking hunk stared at your family pictures, you quietly took your phone from your pocket and opened instagram. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that the actual actor, who you knew played Sihtric in the show, had posted a story just a minute ago, announcing that he was currently in some country, far away from yours, at a comic con.
'No way,' you whispered, 'but then who the fuck-', you looked back at Sihtric again, who had made his way over to your Last Kingdom book collection. 
He stared at it, but as you couldn't see his face, you had no idea what he was doing because you remembered he shouldn't be able to read. You followed his movements with huge eyes, completely in shock, and without realising it, your phone slipped out of your hands and dropped on the floor with a loud thump. You spooked Sihtric, who slightly jumped, and was quick to turn around, again ready to draw his sword.
'Where am I?' he asked, trying to sound calm.
'W-what… uh, England?'
'England?' 
'E-England,' you said again.
'What is the year, lady?'
'2024.'
'What?'
'No, sorry! Sorry, I- I mean 2023!'
Sihtric stared at you, and you thought if he wouldn't blink soon, his eyes would dry out.
'H-how did you get here?' you asked.
'How did you get here?' he asked cautiously.
'I… live here?' you frowned.
'Why?'
You blinked. 'Because… I… pay to live here?'
'Oh,' Sihtric said, then nodded, 'that seems fair. What is that?' he asked, pointing to your tv.
'It's a t- uhh,' you figured that if for some reason this really was Sihtric, the medieval dude from your favourite tv show, he would not know what a tv is, so for the sake of playing it safe, you lied, 'it's a… art.'
'Art?'
'Yes, like a drawing,' you panicked.
Sihtric looked at the tv, then back at you, and said, 'but it's all black?'
'Well, it's… modern… art? It's really expensive,' you said, hoping he would not try to break your tv for whatever reason.
'Expensive?'
'Yes,' you said, 'it's, uh, over a six hundred poun- pieces of silver.'
Sihtric looked back at your tv again, scratched his forehead, and then locked eyes with you again, 'Lady,' he snickered, 'I think someone has fooled you. That drawing is not worth that amount of silver.'
You smiled, simply agreeing, while anticipating his next move.
'Is that,' he squinted his eyes and walked over to your kitchen, 'Uhtred?' he frowned, looking at your coffee cup which had a picture of Uhtred's face on it, 'why?' Sihtric asked as he looked back at you.
'I, uhh…' were you going to tell him they didn't have a cup with his face on it, and that you had sent an angry email to the company? Maybe not. You cleared your throat, but before you could speak, Sihtric's eyes found the large framed poster of him, Finan and Uhtred on your wall. And his eyes grew wide. 
'Where did you get that? Why am I… why are… wh-,' Sihtric stopped talking, then eventually said, 'who made this painting?'
'... Google?' 
'Who is Google?'
'It's, well, so,' you stammered.
'You paid six hundred pieces of silver for this too?'
'Wha- no, more like…seven.'
'Seven hundred?' Sihtric gasped, 'lady,' he smiled, clearly flattered.
'No! I mean like seven pou- bloody pieces of silver!'
'Seven?' he frowned, suddenly offended, 'only seven? Yet you paid six hundred for that?' he pointed at your tv.
'Sihtric, look,' you sighed.
'How do you know my name?' he asked, frightened.
Okay. This had to stop, right now. What the fuck is going on? 
You told Sihtric to shut up, a little harsher than you really meant, but so be it. You took his hands and sat him down on your couch. For some reason he kept holding your hands, which you obviously didn't mind, and you tried to explain how you knew who he was while desperately not trying to get distracted by his appearance. Those tattooed fingers, the tattoo on his neck, and all those scars. He was even more handsome in real life. If this was real life, of course.
'You… you have seen my life?' Sihtric frowned, 'on… the black painting?'
'Yes, it's called a tv. Here, I can show you,' you took the remote, and Sihtric gasped when he suddenly heard noise and saw moving images on the previously black screen.
'Sorcery,' he whispered with big eyes, squeezing your hand.
'No, not sorcery,' you said, remembering how awfully superstitious he was in season 3. And how cute he looked in season 3. Well, he was cute in every season.
'The… the people,' Sihtric suddenly said, 'are they s-stuck?'
'Stuck?'
'Are they stuck in the painting?' he asked, concerned.
'What? No… no, it's… oh god,' you sighed, 'the people are fine,' you smiled.
You quickly switched on Seven Kings Must Die, and you thought Sihtric was going to pass out. He jumped up when he saw Finan and Ingrith, near the beginning of the movie, in Uhtred's hall, your favourite scene, and he ran to the tv.
'Finan!' Sihtric yelled, 'is he stuck?' he looked back at you, worried, 'can he… can he hear me?'
Sihtric turned to the tv again and pressed his fingers against the screen.
'No! Don't touch the screen!' you yelled, worried he'd damage it with his rough fingers, and Sihtric was quick to pull his hand back with a flinch. And you felt horrible for making him flinch, but before you could apologise, Sihtric had composed himself again.
'But… F-Finan?' he asked, 'is he okay? Where is he?'
'Finan is fine! He's not stuck! This all already happened… right?' you grimaced, hoping you were right somehow.
Sihtric looked at you, confused, then back to the screen, and he stumbled backwards when he saw his own face appear on the magic painting. He watched the scene unfold, and he didn't know what to say, he just stared at the screen as he reached for your hand again.
'You looked really hot there,' you blurted out, and you felt yourself blush.
'Hot?' Sihtric frowned, 'I wasn't hot, lady. It was a cold night! Can't you see the furs?' he scoffed.
'No, I mean, you- … no, you're right. It must've been… really cold that day.'
'It was,' Sihtric said sternly, and looked back at the screen again, 'I remember this,' he gasped, 'Finan said he only fell asleep once,' he said, just seconds before Finan said the line on tv.
'See!' Sihtric gasped and looked at you again, 'he actually has fallen asleep many times, lady,' he grinned.
Holy fuck. You didn't even think about that. Sihtric obviously knew everything that had happened, the whole story, not just the bits and pieces you saw from their lives on tv.
'H-has he?' you asked, cautiously.
'Yes, lady,' Sihtric said, 'it often happened because he had too much ale the night before. And because he's old,' he winked with a grin.
'Oh,' you snickered, 'I see. And… you never fell asleep?'
'Me? no, never,' he said with confidence.
'Are you sure?'
'Yes, lady.'
You hummed and skipped to the scene where both Finan and Sihtric had fallen asleep, while Uhtred was awake.
'So…' you smiled, pointing at the tv.
Sihtric gasped, 'No, that… see! See, I'm awake. I was merely resting my eyes, I was… in deep thought,' he lied.
'Okay,' you laughed, 'if you say so.'
You watched Sihtric's face, which went from mildly ashamed to a light chuckle, and soon he laughed softly along with you. He still had no idea how it was possible that he could see his own face on your expensive painting, but Sihtric was a simple guy; he saw a pretty lady and he was smitten, not caring about much else anymore, except for winning your heart. He clearly didn't know you were basically ready to marry him on the spot. And for some reason you both just seemed to accept the situation, no questions asked. You watched the rest of the movie together, and it was surreal. Sihtric remembered everything, told you little anecdotes and simply seemed to enjoy seeing his friends on your screen.
'So… did Uhtred die?' you asked when the end credits were shown on screen.
'Uhtred died?!' Sihtric gasped.
'What? No, I mean, I'm asking you!'
'Uhtred was alive when I last saw him!' Sihtric said, and so you found out Sihtric had ended up in your world only hours after that heartbreaking last scene in the movie.
'Okay, then I'm sure he's, uh, fine,' you tried to convince yourself as much as you tried to convince Sihtric. 'Also,' you cleared your throat, 'what happened to your wife and kids?'
'Oh,' he said, 'we had a rough divorce. She broke my heart and took the kids,' he shrugged.
'Oh,' you blinked, surprised, 'I'm… sorry?'
'Are you married?' Sihtric blurted out.
'Uh, me?' you chuckled, twirling your hair, looking the handsome Dane up and down, 'n-no, I'm not. Why?' you kicked your feet.
Sihtric stared at you, he just couldn't believe his luck after being strangely teleported into a different year and world, ending up with a beautiful lady who wasn't married. But then he thought that was odd, because why weren't you married yet? A pretty lady who was clearly rich, at least that's what he thought, who lived in a nice home, was of marriage age, who was also very kind and funny, and with a body which he would undoubtedly be thinking of later that night. Why has no one married you yet, he wondered.
'Are you cursed?' he said without thinking.
'What?'
'Cursed,' he said again, 'you're not married. Why?'
'Uh, well,' you cleared your throat, 'I'm… picky.'
Sure, picky. You were simply in love with the medieval, fictional man on your couch, and you would never settle for anything less. 
'Picky?' Sihtric frowned.
'Yes,' you replied, 'only a certain kind of man could win my heart,' you grinned, mindlessly twirling your hair around your fingers again.
'Oh?' Sihtric raised an eyebrow and smirked, clearly intrigued.
And he thought of it as a game now, a game he desperately wanted to play, because he wanted to know if he could win. And gods, how he wanted to win you and take you back home with him. Or stay here with you, he really didn't care, not after you just batted your eyelashes at him. No, he would do everything for you now.
'So,' he cleared his throat, shifting a little closer next to you on the couch, 'what kind of man would that be?'
'Hm,' you hummed, thinking as if you weren't looking at that specific man, 'a man who is… kind,' you said, 'loyal and brave,' you smiled at him.
Sihtric hummed and licked his lips as he gave you a playful look. He knew he was kind, loyal and brave, so he figured his chances with you were pretty good right now.
'And… someone who is not afraid to take charge,' you teased, seeing if he's willing to take the bait.
Sihtric grinned and slightly adjusted his position.
'He also has to be protective,' you said, 'and strong,' your eyes trailed down to his clothed biceps, knowing very well what's underneath all of that fabric he was wearing.
'Well,' Sihtric smiled, a little cocky, 'I might just be the man for you then.'
'You think so? I'm not sure…,' you played it cool, but inside you were going stark raving mad, this surely had to be a dream.
'I think I am,' he gave you a smirk and winked.
You were absolutely ready to pull that man in your bed, but it was only noon, you had just met him a few hours ago, and everything was just really freaking weird. So you held back. You told him you'd think about it, to which he frowned, playfully offended. You bickered a little and eventually ended up discussing what on earth you two were going to do now. He had nowhere to go, and you didn't want to kick him out, but he was still a stranger. Even though he had lived in your head rent free for years already. You told him first things first; he had to get into different clothes. Which he agreed to. You did some digging and found some sweatpants you had bought online years ago, which turned out way too big for you, and you had forgotten to return it, which came in handy now. Unfortunately, the sweatpants were pastel pink, and Sihtric clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply as he grabbed them out of your hands. You snorted, and to make it worse, the only thing you owned which he would possibly fit in, was a matching sleeveless crop top.
'No,' Sihtric said sternly, looking at the top you held in your hands.
'Guess you're not brave enough for me then,' you taunted.
Sihtric huffed and snatched the shirt out of your hands. You pointed him towards your bathroom, where he stayed for quite a while, simply admiring every foreign object before he even thought of changing clothes. And when he finally walked out, you thought you were going to pass out again.
He had untangled his previously braided hair, wearing it down now, which you loved so much, all while wearing that sleeveless crop top, which barely covered half of his insanely toned upper body. And the matching sweatpants hung on his hips, low enough to reveal he wasn't wearing any underwear, which made sense, as you had no underwear that would possibly fit him. 
He raked his fingers through his hair, exposing even more of his trained torso when he did, and every single filthy thought you ever had about that man crossed your mind at once. You desperately tried to shake your thoughts and took him back into your living room, where you sat down and simply talked. He wanted to know all about you, and even though he didn't understand a lot of the things you mentioned, he knew he was going to marry you. Somehow.
Later you made him dinner and as promised, Sihtric slept on the couch. And you had to fight the desperate urge to find him in the night and lure him into your bed, which Sihtric would have gladly allowed to happen.
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A few days passed and Sihtric seemed to adapt decently. He was not as dumb as Uhtred and Finan always made him seem, but he was definitely as clumsy as expected. Knocking over drinks, breaking small objects which he wanted to look at but his hands were too rough, things like that. But you couldn't give a shit, you were madly in love with him, and you couldn't wait for him to break you-... your bed.
Sihtric was very flirty too, and loved brushing his fingers over your face, arms, or well, anywhere he could really, whenever he could. But he was also a true gentleman, and slept on your couch each night, for nearly a week. 
One evening he asked if he could see one of those Last Kingdom episodes you had talked about, and you agreed.
It was still unreal to watch an episode with the one and only Sihtric Kjartansson next to you, and it still felt like a dream. You switched on a random episode, and it happened to be the one where his father, Kjartan, ends up getting killed. At first Sihtric had been watching in awe, amazed that he could relive parts of his life like that.
But when he realised where it was going, his face became more and more deprived of emotions. You noticed it quite late and wanted to switch the tv off once you saw it, just before Kjartan got killed, but Sihtric stopped you by taking your hand in his. And he held your hand tightly as he watched the scene unfold. He showed no emotion, which told you he was more or less at peace with it, but it still was a rough moment to sit through.
When the episode was over, Sihtric looked at you, and you could finally do what you had always wanted to do after seeing Sihtric in that terrible scene; you pulled him in your arms and held him tight.
'Are you okay?' you asked after a moment.
'Yeah,' he said quietly, enjoying the feeling of having his arms around you.
He softly hummed as you brushed your fingers through his long, wavy hair, which was simply another dream come true, and he held you tightly for a long time.
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'Can I stay with you?' Sihtric suddenly asked a few evenings later as you had just watched another episode.
'What?' you asked.
'Can I stay here? With you? I mean… I- I like you. I like being here,' he said, 'and, unless we find out how I got here, I have nowhere to go.'
'Y-you want to stay here? With me?' you frowned. 
Sihtric wasn't wrong, he truly had no place to go and you also still had no idea how on earth he had gotten here, which you both quickly stopped questioning as it drove you mad. And naturally you wanted him to stay, but it would be a hard thing to explain to your friends and family, who knew all about your (unhealthy) love for Sihtric, who was, until last week, non-existent in the real world.
'I'd like to stay,' Sihtric smiled sweetly at you, 'with you, lady.'
And you just couldn't resist him anymore. With his long, wavy hair, those mismatched eyes, that smile, and the pink crop top he kept wearing once he realised you liked it on him. He did swap the pastel sweatpants for a black one, after you had bought it for him a few days ago. He was simply the most mesmerising man you had ever seen, and before you knew it, your lips crashed together into a heated kiss. And you tore each other's clothes off as fast as you could. You've been waiting years for this dream to become a reality, and you absolutely would live your fantasy to the fullest right now.
Sihtric seemed just as desperate as you, but before he pulled your panties down, you ran to your bedroom. He was still a medieval man, who knows what he caught in those days and you wanted to limit the risk of catching something as much as you could, and also you did not want a baby, yet, so you grabbed a condom. Sihtric frowned at the package, and you quickly understood he had never seen such a thing. You chuckled a little awkwardly and opened the package.
'It's protection,' you explained, but you didn't want to spook him by talking about STDs, knowing he would probably think it's a curse, so you simply said, 'it's so you don't put a child- I mean, pup in my belly,' you frowned a little as you said the ancient words.
'You do not want my pups?' Sihtric asked, and he almost sounded hurt.
'N… I… well,' you cleared your throat, 'not yet,' you admitted.
Sihtric started to ramble and question you, and you politely asked him to stop talking. You asked if he was okay with everything, to which he then nodded with a smirk, and he allowed you to put the condom on him. And the low hums he let out when you did so, were enough to turn your insides into jelly, and the pressure between your thighs was immense and unbearable. And as you wanted to take your hands off him, he quickly held onto your arm, keeping your hand in place.
'Please,' Sihtric said with big, darkened eyes and a sly smile.
And you understood he seemed to like the feeling of your hand working his length. You had to admit, all those fanfic writers did not lie about his size; you had nothing to complain about here. God, the way you enjoyed having this man on your couch, completely naked, except for the Mjölnir pendant around his neck, with his head thrown back as he smiled while soft moans escaped his slightly parted lips, enjoying the way you made him feel. And it didn't take long before Sihtric came, and the sound of his low groan was pure bliss to your ears, and even more arousing than you already had expected it to be. 
After a short moment, Sihtric was quick to push you up and make you sit back against the couch. He kneeled down in front of you, on the floor, and he carefully spread your legs with a smirk. He threw one leg over his broad shoulder, and before you could grasp that your wildest fantasy was coming true, his face was already buried between your thighs. He nipped your sensitive skin with his lips before he softly kissed your wet folds, followed by running his tongue over your core, making you exhale sharply as your hands found his hair. Your body trembled in no time as he sucked, kissed and licked your clit, as if you were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted in his life. And just like Sihtric, it didn't take long before you came with a desperate moan, pulling his hair to which he groaned.
You both ended up laughing softly as Sihtric sat back next to you, giving you some time to recover, while you both realised how insane this was. But in less than a minute he already took your face in his hands and pulled you closer, wanting to kiss you like there was no tomorrow. And as soon as you felt like you could take him again, you climbed on his lap, to which Sihtric smirked. He watched you with half open eyes as he bit down on his lip. His hands settled on your hips while yours found support by holding onto his muscular shoulders. His body was even more impressive than you imagined, and you cursed Netflix for never giving the audience a shirtless Sihtric scene. 
And then you finally sank down on his cock, you both gasped at the feeling, hands desperately squeezing and scratching each other to display pleasure. And Sihtric was vocal, moaning and cursing with a smile as he enjoyed the way you were riding him, his eyes fixated on you, darting between your eyes, your lips, your breasts and down to your core, loving the view of how you took his length.
'Gods,' he moaned, out of breath, and then he hummed with a light chuckle.
'Fuck,' you muttered under your breath, digging your nails in his shoulders as you tried your hardest to not finish right there and then.
'Hm, I want to fill you up,' Sihtric whispered with ragged breath, and your attempt to not finish before him was to no avail, as his words were enough to make you cry out his name while your walls clenched around his throbbing cock.
'Fuck, sorry,' you said, panting, riding out your own high while feeling a little embarrassed you finished so fast. 
But to your surprise, and pleasure, you felt Sihtric's grip on your hips tighten up and he let out another hard, deep groan as he threw his head back, finishing only moments after you, just as he had hoped he would. You both tried to catch your breath as you embraced each other for a little while. Then you took a shower together and dressed in some comfy clothes. You grabbed a few drinks and some snacks, and made your way into your bedroom, telling Sihtric to come with you. And on your bed, you'd talk and joke around for hours, if you weren't too busy kissing each other or cuddling that is.
'If you had the chance,' you asked, hours later, as Sihtric held you in his arms, 'would you go back home?'
'Only if you'd go back with me,' he said, without any hesitation or doubt, and he squeezed you a little tighter against his chest, 'but if you wish to stay here, then I will stay here, even if I could go back.'
'Why?' you asked, surprised but happy to hear his answer, and you felt a little emotional all of the sudden.
'Because,' Sihtric smiled, moving up a little to look into your eyes, 'because I like you,' he lovingly brushed his fingers over your cheek, 'I have lived my life there, back home,' he said, 'there's not much there for me anymore. I would rather stay here and have you, have someone to take care of and to provide for, then going back without you and just… feel alone again at night.'
'I love you,' you suddenly blurted out.
Sihtric's jaw dropped slightly as he looked at you with big eyes, and then he smiled softly, 'I love you too,' he said, 'and I just want to be wherever you are.'
'Sihtric,' you whispered, cupping his cheeks as you stared into the warrior's vulnerable eyes, 'I will simply follow you anywhere you decide to go.'
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taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305
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Of course I cried (a TBB S1 Retrospective and cry fest)
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I finished S1 and it honestly is still stands really strong. While I love the other seasons more (for quite obvious reasons), S1 still has really standout moments and episodes such as the finale. Crosshair might be in is bad boy era, but he's still incredibly compelling.
What hurts to me most about S1 is this image above. This is the last time CF99 is all together. Ever. Obviously, we didn't know that and neither did our boys and Omega. Even if the Batch knew in-universe there was a chance that they would never see each other again, I think deep down they hoped they would reunite. I know Omega had hope that Crosshair would somehow find his way home.
What makes S1 (and the whole show in retrospect) even more tragic is that we will never see the BB whole ever again. It makes Tech's death hurt that much more because he and Crosshair never made proper amends. The last thing he hears Crosshair talk about is how everyone else is foolish for not joining the Empire and making his choice to stay. One of the last memories Crosshair really has of his brother is him pointing his blaster at him. After that, it's a one way ticket to suffering for Crosshair.
I know it's just a show, but images like the one above make me wish we had more time with the Batch before they were so cruelly torn apart from each other and it only enhances the tragedy they go through. The series finale, no matter how sunshiney it looks, is still bittersweet. The Batch finally get their freedom but at a great cost. Tech doesn't make it. Crosshair is still deeply hurting. It's a harsh reality that breaks my heart. In Rebels, we had 3 seasons of the Ghost crew together before we lost both Kanan and (temporarily) Ezra. The BB don't even get a single season all together. I would've loved to see them all with each other at least one more time without all the conflict.
But looking at S1 as a whole in general, I still really enjoy it. I love episodes like "Common Ground" or "War-Mantle" because we see how monstrous the Empire really is right out of the gate. Rampart, as goofy as that scream made him look, is a very crafty and entertaining villain who you just want to punch in the face. Crosshair himself is a fantastic villain who's both ruthless and tragic. While he doesn't hold back, the clear attachment he still has to his brothers in the back half of the season make the finale that much more emotional.
And while you can argue there is a lot of "filler," a rewatch proves that each episode happens for a reason. Why did the Batch have to capture a baby Rancor? So they could get info on Fennec. How come they stuck around to help Cid? Because she gave them money and work. I'm not saying that it's the most entertaining content we've seen, but there is a clear purpose for why those episodes happen.
I would've loved to see more Crosshair (for obvious reasons), but I do think the first season does balance out the story arcs well and when we do see him, he is always great. Thanks to the great music and acting from DBB, I do think the first season makes it clear that while Crosshair isn't leaving the Empire, he's not the same man he was pre-Bracca. The chip's influence isn't there (or at the very least severely diminished based on how you interpret Cross' reveal) and he does want them back but only on his terms.
As for the others, I definitely understand Hunter a bit more. He wants to help Crosshair, but he really doesn't know how nor does he want to endanger the others. I wish the group had a least one conversation about it though. For a group that feels like they should be very tight knit, it still feels like they brush Cross' departure off quite quickly. It's kinda like the Tech scenario in S3 where you know they're thinking about it, but nobody says anything. And that's frustrating because you know the Batch have a lot on their mind, especially Crosshair. And ironically, the quietist of the Batch is the most vocal about his feelings. Crosshair is so expressive and it's one of my favorite things about it.
Omega is such a cute munchkin. I adore her with every fiber of my being. She takes everything with stride and I love how S1 establishes many skills (like the hustling) that will later come into play in S2 or S3. And the show isn't afraid to show her learning process. Omega makes many mistakes, but she learns quickly and tries again. She loves her brothers so much.
Overall, S1 is still very strong and much more tragic in retrospect. I guess in someways, it reminds us how unfair life can be sometimes and that's why we gotta cherish each moment. Tech might no longer be with us, but he lives on through each of his brothers and Omega. Cross might never see him again, but as he tries to be better, Tech is no doubt smiling down from Clone Heaven.
Anyways, onto S2 (and more sadness). TBB lowkey is the most tragic of the SW animated shows not counting the Siege of Mandalore arc in CW. Every season, something awful happens to tear our little clone family apart. That's why the ending on Pabu, no matter the quality of writing, meant so much to me.
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sailforvalinor · 10 months
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Tagged by @saxifrage-wreath to do this tag game—thanks for the tag!
1. Three non-romantic duos: Ten and Donna Noble (Doctor Who), Harry Potter and Ron Weasley (Harry Potter), and Christopher Rowe and Tom Bailey (The Blackthorn Key)
2. A ship that might surprise others: Harry Potter x Luna Lovegood. Objectively there’s nothing wrong with Harry and Ginny, I just don’t find it all that compelling. And wouldn’t it be cute?? Wouldn’t it???
3. Last song: Autumn Sweater by Yo La Tengo
4. Last Film: Oh dear, I think it was Wild Mountain Thyme. I had a fever and I’d never been more confused in my life.
5. Currently reading: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Susanne Collins, The Blackthorn Key by Kevin Sands (reread), Sense and Sensibility (reread)
6. Currently watching: Bia, Endeavour, rewatching NuWho season 3 with my roommate, Friends, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (albeit, very slowly), and I’m attempting to watch the X-Files. There’s also a k-drama or two that I’ve been in the middle of for a WHILE that I need to finish.
7. Currently consuming: Lemon Coke (I shouldn’t be, I’m about to go to bed)
8. Currently craving: Creativity, motivation, a back rub from my mom 😂
Gently tagging @o-lei-o-lai-o-lord @kanerallels @accidental-spice @novelmonger @rainintheevening @valiantarcher @braveheartstoryteller @faeriefully @the-tiny-dragons-tea-room
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theredponcho · 3 months
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I finally finished watching all 7 seasons of 2003 tmnt. I like the series as a whole and it might be my favorite iteration now but idk I might have to rewatch it again. Story wise I think its my favorite iteration. If were talking animation and comedy then rottmnt is my favorite.
Spoilers under the keep reading ⬇️
My favorite turtle in this iteration has to be Donnie. He was really intresting and I liked his personality a lot. It could also be that Im bias in my opinion since before I watched the series I was reading the fic Ghost in a Shell which was also one of the reasons why I decided to binge watch the series in the first place so who knows.
The shredder reminded me a lot of william afton from fnaf since…He always comes back. I swear they did everything to that guy and he just kept coming back. Decapitation, drowning/fire damage, electricution, and dragons??? Don't even get me started on stockman. It gave me flash backs to 2012 splinter. But 2012 splinter didn’t dye more so was assumed dead except for the ending and that one time in the space arc. I could go on a whole tangent talking about 2012 tmnt but we would be here all day. Maybe I’ll make a post on my thoughts on that if I feel like it.
I wish we could have seen more of cyberspace and learned more about how the future worked. I also would have liked to see more of professor honey cut he was cool.
I still have questions that were left unanswered mostly about the last season.
Did Serlion the future robot ever make it back to the future. I assumed he did eventually since it would probably screw up the time line or be very dark if he did end up staying in the present. Plus it would add a lot of plot holes.
What was that 3V3 shredder fight all about? During the begging of season 7 went viral was messing around with the time portal and sending the guys to different points in the past we saw a moment were 3 or 4 shredders were fighting each other along with a lot of foot clan members and I assumed that we would see this near the end of the season and this was just for shadowing what was gonna come and be the final epic fight because brain wash guy was their and the next episode after that we actually get to formally meet brain wash guy and we met a shredder that was basically resserected and they still needed to make a time portal which leaves room for more shredders to make a appearance. Idk maybe they just ran out of time and couldn’t do it so they just ended on the wedding and killed cyber shredder early or something.
Who in there right mind decide to change the turtles eyes and give them pupils in season 7? Im not mad I’m just disappointed. I didn’t mind the art style change in season 6. Sure it took some getting use to but I was able to get use to it after a while and find things I liked about it but I never really got over the pupils thing.
Is the shredder actually dead? The main core/program of the shredder is still tenically in cyberspace it wasn’t deleted (as far as im awear) so does that mean the shredder could still come back if he wanted to?
I would like to end this post on a cute picture of the guys if you read this far thank you. ❤️
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djarins-cyare · 4 months
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Get to Know Me tag game
Rules: Answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with!
Thanks for the tag, @mosssbawls. I'm sorry it took me so long to do this (I literally save everything I'm tagged in until I've got time to do it, lol). Maybe it's been so long that this will restart the tag game??
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Favourite colour: Teal when I'm feeling bold, duck egg blue when I want something softer (she says, putting up a pink-themed post).
Last song: It would've been on the radio in the car last night, but I don't remember the last one. I know I was singing along to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman at one point in the journey, so I'll say that.
Currently reading: I'm hopping between some great fanfics right now. Let's see... Lovers' Crest by gingerlurk, Second Chances by DjarinMuse, and Back to You by Kyberblade. All are fabulous!
Currently watching: Well, The Acolyte is premiering… like, now, so despite it being the early hours of the morning here, I’m gonna check it out. Otherwise, I'm rewatching Bones from start to finish (one ep per evening while making dinner), and my current commuting entertainment is The Bad Batch (rewatching season 1 so I can binge seasons 2 and 3). I don't watch nearly as much stuff as I used to; these days I spend most of my time writing.
Currently craving: Sleep! Always tired, never sleeping!
Coffee or tea: I had to give up caffeine last year when dental surgery forced me to drink nothing but water, so neither these days. But I hate the taste of coffee, and I'm British, so I have to pick tea. It’s, like, the law.
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I'm going to tag the folks whose fics I'm reading, bc ily guys: @gingerlurk @djarinmuse @kyberblade (no pressure 🫶🏻).
I know the rules say 9 tags, but I'm too tired to choose any more, so anyone else who sees this, consider yourselves tagged!
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negasonicimagines · 26 days
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Allergies
SYNOPSIS: After you and Ellie take down a plant monster, you quickly find out why it was being so aggressive in the first place. OR An overdue sex pollen fic.
Warnings/Notes: Smut, Sex Pollen, Minor Breeding Kink, Telepathic Reader, Oral, Strap-On (R!Receiving Both) / This is actually pretty old. It didn't feel finished, so I held onto it for a while. After polishing it a little I think it's as done as it's gonna get.
You and Negasonic are both exhausted after that last mission. 
“I have no idea why that creature was so hostile, or what it was even doing in the city. Those things usually stick to their dens in the forests, especially around this time of year,” she comments. For someone who tries so hard to look like a delinquent, she actually paid a lot of attention when she was in school, enough to have an internship at Stark Industries and a few scholarships under her belt. 
Graduated students are still permitted to live at Xavier’s, and they even get upgraded rooms; however, they still have to share. At least you two don’t have to deal with immature freshmen in the communal showers anymore. That’s enough to keep you as roommates, despite your differences. 
“I’m just glad it’s over with,” you say, punctuating your sentence with a sneeze. You haven’t stopped doing that since the end of the fight, when the plant-like beast was eventually herded back to its den with some minor injuries. Your mind control wasn’t as useful as anticipated, but due to the need for physical touch to even try, you got plenty of the pollen in your system, more so than your teammates, though they were also given a decent dusting. “We should shower.” 
“You first,” Ellie replies. You head to the restroom. 
Once the water starts running, you think about her. You two have lived together for about half a year now, and you still have no idea how she feels about you. 
You two will watch a few episodes of a TV show you both like, share the same opinions of the relationships and plot points, and it really seems like you could be friends, but then later, sometimes within hours, she’s right back to her snarky remarks and cold-shouldering, like it never happened. You’ll accompany each other to the gym, or dinner, and get along just fine, even if it’s just scrolling through your phones and showing each other Tiktoks and other memes. But then, again, coldness. You don’t know what you’ve done wrong, and you’re one more of her little comments away from just grabbing her and learning everything there is to know about her maze of a mind. 
No, not really. That would be wrong, violating. You’re just frustrated, you know that. You want to be her friend, maybe even more than her friend, but she just won’t let you in! 
You finish up your shower, and return to your room, cozying up on your bed. Ellie’s already pulled up Dexter on the TV so that you can resume where you left off in your rewatch in anticipation for the new season.
Her shower is speedier than yours. Her hair is so cute, even when it’s wet. Maybe you should ask her what hairdresser she goes to. 
She glances at you, seeing that you’re comfortable before pressing play. 
“Y’know, Lila reminds me of Mandy Milkovich,” you comment. 
Ellie looks at you like you’ve just announced your plans to glitterbomb Wolverine.
“What? I thought I was allowed to talk if we’ve both seen the episode or movie before,” you say. 
“No, no, you are, but that’s actually… That’s an interesting connection to make,” Ellie explains. “You’re right.” 
“Thanks?”
“Yeah.”
You watch the rest of the episode in a silence that’s actually kind of odd for you two. As the silence grows, so does a weird tension, each of you glancing at each other and trying not to get caught, but ultimately failing. Your skin starts to itch, but even as you scratch, it doesn’t go away. You even try some lotion from your nightstand, and that makes the itching worse. You’d tear off your clothes if Ellie wasn’t there. A strange thought trickles into your mind, urging you to do it anyways, and maybe even take hers off, too. You have an idea of what she looks like under her clothes, you had gym together in high school. Perverse thoughts continue to plague you, starting off as intrusive before suddenly they feel… Natural. 
She doesn’t allow the next episode to autoplay.
“Do you feel… Weird?” she asks. You nod. “Me too.”
“Cool. Uh, what could be causing this?” you wonder, sitting up and turning to look at her. 
“No idea, or… Oh, fuck.”
“Oh, fuck?” you repeat, wondering why she would say such a thing. 
“When that creature is in heat, all other senses and instincts are dulled. It wandered off and was hostile due to unfamiliar surroundings and the threat we posed. As a defense mechanism, it covered us in-”
“No,” you realize. “That’s real?! That’s a real thing?!” 
“Yeah,” she sighs. “It’s only gonna get worse from here.”
“The effects are documented?! Why didn’t they warn us?!”
“That specific species hasn’t been studied enough. We didn’t know if they reproduced more like plants, or like animals… Until now, I guess,” Ellie explains. “Well, at least we weren’t too exposed to it. Too much of it and you don’t really have a choice but to do certain things, or-”
“Speak for yourself, my mind control abilities require skin-to-skin! What’s gonna happen to me?” you ask, frightened. 
“Well, unless you, y’know, you’re gonna be in a lot of pain. I don’t know for how long, again, this species isn’t well-studied due to its reclusive nature, but-” She cuts herself off with a sigh. ”I’m not the best person to talk to about this.”
“Considering you know so much about it, why wouldn’t you be the best person to talk to?”
“Because the more I talk about the effects, the more I want to prevent you from suffering from them,” she admits, finally meeting your gaze, and you could drown in the depth of her eyes, black oceans that are burning hot even when they aren’t glowing orange. 
“You just said you weren’t exposed to it very much, so why would you…?”
“You really don’t know?” she asks, sounding almost angry.
“Know what?”
“And everyone was telling me I was being so obvious,” she scoffs. 
“What?!” you ask again, exasperated already by her vagueness.
“I’m into you, for fuck’s sake!”  she confesses.
“Is that why you’re so unpredictable?!” You’re shocked. Of all the possible reasons for her hot-and-cold act, you hadn’t considered this. You sigh. “Well, okay. If it gets too bad, help me out. I’m consenting now before my condition gets worse and you won’t be able to tell if I’m telling the truth or not.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Y/N, I can’t just hook up with you and pretend like nothing happened! I’m not like that,” she says.
“Who said we had to pretend like it didn’t happen? I’m interested in you, too. We get this over with and then we start dating or whatever you want to do. You’ll probably change your mind once you’ve been with me, though.”
“Why would you say that?” Ellie asks. She sounds… Defensive. 
“It’s prolonged skin-to-skin contact. No one’s ever stayed after… That. They can’t even look at me. I know their most vulnerable secrets, and they know mine. And that’s with me trying to prevent absorbing anything. Once I… We… Y’know, that gets pretty hard to not do, and I get the feeling it’s gonna be even harder if my mind is only focused on one thing.” 
“You warned them first?” she wonders. You nod. “Then it’s their own damn fault, not yours. I’m fine with that, gets everything out in the open before we get in too deep. Well, before you do. I- All I think about is you, honestly. I know we don’t do a whole lot together, but living with you, watching our favorite shows, all that… I love it. I never want it to end. I wish I wasn’t too cowardly to show it.”
“You’re showing it now,” you tell her, surprised at her honesty but wanting to encourage it. 
“I guess I am,” she admits, soothed by your words. “Can I kiss you?”
You nod, though you’re a bit nervous. 
Ellie ventures from her bed to yours, taking your face in her hands. She looks as nervous as you feel, but she goes for it. You kiss back, of course.
When you part, she smiles. 
“You really like me, too?” 
“I told you,” you reply. 
“I guess I just wasn’t expecting…” She sighs and smiles again. “That was nice.”
“Wanna do it again?” you offer with a cheeky grin. She nods, and the two of you kiss again, and again, and again, until you’re under her, thighs interlocked as you both needily roll your hips. Her hands slide up your shirt, but before she gets to your chest, she asks:
“Can I?”
“Of course,” you reply, and she gets back  to work, resuming the kiss while massaging your breasts and using her thumbs to rub your nipples through your bra. Your thighs squeeze around the one of hers between them, and you can feel her satisfaction. 
Ellie pulls away. Oh no, don’t do that.
“This is really okay, right?” 
“Can’t you tell?” you ask. Your hands were already cupping her cheeks, but you press into them a little harder, giggling at her smushed face. 
“Oh, that’s what that is… I just thought it felt really good to be, y’know…” Riding your thigh. 
We’re touching. I can sense what you’re thinking, to an extent. Surface level stuff, can’t go deeper without actually trying, you tell her without opening your mouth. And because I’m not guarding myself all the way, you’re able to feel, y’know… Some of what I’m feeling. 
“So cool…” she murmurs, and you catch a hint of excitement at the thought of…
You blush, a sheepish smile on your face. 
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Oh, wow, okay, I mean, I know you warned me, but- Wait, not like that, I want this still, just… I gotta be more careful.”
“Why?” you ask reflexively, but you know. She thinks it before she says it:
“I don’t want you to feel pressured,” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She puts her hands against yours, smiling again when she feels just how much more attractive she made herself to you by saying that and genuinely meaning it. You pull your hands away to take off your shirt, helping her with hers. “Wow.” 
“I- I can put my shirt back on.”
She puts her hands on your hips and oh, okay. It was a good “wow.” 
“This is pretty convenient,” she murmurs. “People don’t like this?”
“Just wait ‘til we climax, okay? You’ll change your mind.” 
I don’t think I will, Ellie thinks. Nothing about her could change my mind at this point. 
You gasp at that. 
“I, uh, I’m sorry,” she murmurs, embarrassed. 
You shake your head, the need between your thighs only growing with time. 
Ellie kisses you again, reaching around you for the clasp of your bra as it gets deeper. She presses her hand against the clasp, and you know what she’s asking.
Yes, please. 
Great manners, she thinks, and you can feel the satisfaction in it. 
Your lips part so that she can take your bra the rest of the way off, and she next kisses your neck, hot and heavy and wet kisses trailing down to your chest. 
She feels pleasure blossom from every kiss and can’t help but smirk before she finally kisses one of your nipples, sucking on it and flicking her tongue and-
“Oh, fuck, Ellie, I- Ha, you- thank you, oh,” you whimper, squirming underneath her. 
Sensitive, huh? I guess that’s to be expected, with the pollen and all. I wonder if she’d mind me writing a research article about this. Mm, so soft. 
“You can do whatever you want as long as you keep doing that,” you tell her. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie pulls away to say, and you whine. “Oh, right, just- Thoughts, y’know, that’s gotta be distracting.”
“You’re not my mindless sex slave,” you insist. 
Would be if you asked, she flirts.  
You can’t help but giggle at that, planting a kiss on her forehead. 
She resumes her work, switching to your other breast while still stimulating the one she was before with her fingers. You grind yourself against her thigh. 
Fuck, that’s so hot. I didn’t even know I was capable of being this happy, or horny, for that matter. Oh, she’s perfect. I knew she would be. 
“Well, that’s a kink I didn’t know I had,” you breathe. 
“What?” 
“Praise kink.”
“Oh,” Ellie chuckles. “What, didn’t the others… think stuff…like… that?” Ellie’s question gets weaker as she feels… Feels that they didn’t. It was never as loving, it was just shallow, physical thoughts. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s fine. We’re together now.”
“We are,” Ellie agrees. “It sucks that you got sick, but… I’m glad this is working out for the best.” 
For now, that scared little part of you speaks up. 
Ellie’s kisses trail down, but she stops once she feels a different concern. 
“I don’t care if you’re not totally bare down there; do I look like the kind of girl who is?” 
“Fair enough,” you whisper, anxiety threatening to overwhelm you. She rests her head against your stomach, hugging you. 
We don’t have to do this. We don’t. I can try and get you sedatives, or I can sleep over at Yukio’s or Wade’s and let you deal with this on your own. But I want to, if you want to. We can still be together either way, or if you don’t want to be together, we can just try and forget about this. It’s really up to you. 
“I want to,” you reply. “I just- I really like you, and I don’t want you to stop liking me because of this.” 
“Okay. I feel pretty confident that I’m gonna feel the same way about you that I did before, it’s already getting stronger. I like knowing what’s going on in your head. I like that you know what’s going on in mine. Makes the whole communication thing a million times easier, which is good, ‘cause I kinda suck at it most of the time.”
“Okay.” 
I’m literally about to burst, please, oh, please, can we get back to it? 
Ellie can’t help but grin. 
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” 
She pulls your bottoms and underwear down in one clunky motion, you’re not really sure if your shimmying is helping or not. She props your legs open and you can’t help but cover your face, especially as her filthy and lovestruck thoughts seep into your skin. You’re blushing so hard right now, you can feel it.
“You’re- You know what I think,” Ellie murmurs. “Do you still want…?”
You nod fervently, and she chuckles. She inches down and gives a few experimental licks and kisses, humming with delight as you shudder and whimper. She finds her niche flicking her tongue against your clit at a rapid pace. 
She tastes amazing, fuck. I just need to make her feel good, she thinks. You’re done for. 
You shake underneath her, she’s like a force of nature. There’s no fighting, there’s not even a way to help. You just lay there and take it, tangling your hands in the sheets. She moves them to her hair, and you twist your fingers in it, squeezing more than you ever actually pull it. You’d hate to accidentally hurt her. 
“F-Fuck, Ellie, I…” She’s doing the absolute most, or so you thought. She slides a couple fingers inside and curls them. You’re damn near sobbing, you’re so sensitive already and then she just… You pitifully whimper and whine as you get closer and closer. “I- I-” 
She hums with satisfaction, continuing to flick and swirl her tongue furiously until you finish. And now, you’ll see how she takes it. 
“Whoa,” she breathes after working you through your orgasm. “That was…” She smiles.
“What?” you blurt. She’s still smiling. She’s smiling?! “What did you see?”
“I mean, first of all, you weren’t kidding when you said wait ‘til we climax. Second of all… It was you. It was like your mind just completely opened up and sucked me in. I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t love that. To see all of it, to know you so much better. Maybe they were just intimidated.” 
“Maybe don’t include that part in your paper.”
She grabs your hand, pressing it against her cheek. 
“Your turn. It’s okay. Whatever you want to know or see, it’s yours. It’s only fair.”
You accept her offer. She has a loving family but constantly feels overshadowed by her older sister. Her first pet was a middle-aged corn snake – her cousin moved away for college when she was ten and entrusted her with its care. It died on her fifteenth birthday and while its lifespan was normal, maybe even exceptionally long, she’s never really had a good birthday since. 
Her first crush was a girl with red hair and freckles for days. Her first love was Yukio, though she regrets never really showing it the way she should’ve when they dated. She doesn’t want to make the same mistakes with you. 
You find her mental list of your favorite things, playing through the memories of her hearing you say they were your favorite or of her simply observing the choices you make. You start taking note of her own favorite things that you haven’t discovered yet. You dig through her kinks and fantasies a little, not surprised at what you find. 
You continue to gently explore her mind, creeping down dark hallways of fear and depression and anger; traipsing through meadows of her most pleasant memories, a surprising amount of them with you. 
You slip back out, and she smiles nervously. 
“So…” she starts, but doesn’t know how to continue. 
“So,” you reply, smiling with her. “That was nice. A lot more peaceful than I was expecting, not gonna lie.” 
Ellie chuckles at that, and you get off the bed, legs wobbly but still functional enough for you to open the closet and grab the drawstring bag tucked in the back. 
You place it on the bed.
“Take your pick, it’s all good,” you tell her, but she’s still stunned at the fact that you knew where it was. “Doesn’t freak you out too much, does it?”
“I’m just surprised you went there.”
“Didn’t you?” you ask. 
“Yeah, but- But you’re- I guess what I’m really saying is that I’m still surprised you’re attracted to me, I didn’t think I’d be your type.”
“You didn’t?” 
“Well, I guess- I mean, those people you dated, I never saw them, so I didn’t have anyone to really compare myself to in terms of what you might like.”
“I like you.” 
“I like you, too,” she replies with a chuckle. “Are you still-”
“Yes, yes, dear god, yes,” you quickly reply. You weren’t gonna say anything as you’re glad to be having this talk, but the pain, the hunger has slowly built back up. “How long do you think this is gonna last?”
Ellie fishes through her bag, pulling out the one you were hoping for and spraying it down with a specialized cleaner before carefully wiping it off with a tissue. She attaches it to a harness before shucking her jeans and putting on the harness with surprising grace and speed. 
“I don’t know, but I’m here. As long as you want me.” 
You kiss her, tangling your hands in her hair. Her hands rest on your thighs, asking permission without opening her mouth. You part from the kiss to nod before resuming. She slides two fingers in, pumping them and reveling in the way you twitch and squirm with sensitivity. She pulls them out; you pout. She can’t hold back a smirk as she tastes you on her fingers, using her other hand to carefully line herself up with your entrance. 
Ellie eases in, torturously slow. You wrap your legs around her and plunge the toy the rest of the way in. 
“Needy, are we?” 
“You already know that,” you pitifully whimper, and her cocky expression fades into one of sympathy. 
“Would it be better if you got on top? So you can set the pace?” 
“Maybe later, if you get tired.” For now, I just want you to pound me until I can’t take it anymore and then some. 
A chill of excitement rolls down Ellie’s spine.
Is that so?
You nod, rocking your hips. She snatches them, and you still. She feels the way your stomach does a flip like you’re at the top of a rollercoaster; that brief thrilling moment just before racing down the track. 
She hopes she makes you scream, too. 
“Can’t do that if you don’t fucking move,” you remark, getting even more impatient. Under normal circumstances, that would earn you bondage and maybe even a smack somewhere, but Ellie knows you literally need her to fuck you as the effects of the pollen grow stronger. You may have made the remark about her not being a mindless sex slave, but she wouldn’t be surprised if you were by the end of this. 
Gladly. 
That makes her blush, before she finally gets to work. She warms up with a steady pace, but the thrusts quickly become savage, almost clumsy with how fast and hard she’s going. Every time she hits that spot, you gasp or moan or whine or whimper, nails digging into her shoulders, her back, whatever you can get your hands on as you cling for dear life. 
You get close once more, fairly quickly, but you need a little more. What you don’t need are spoken words, though. Ellie reaches for her bag and fishes out a wand, wetting the head of it with her mouth before handing it to you. The feeling of desperate gratitude flows from you to her through every inch of touching skin, and she grins, smooching your forehead. 
The hum of the vibrator is simply white noise compared to the symphony of sounds the two of you are making. Ellie already enjoys topping damn near enough to finish untouched, but feeling echoes of your pleasure only intensifies it. 
You cover your mouth as your eyes tear up and clench shut, but she tears the hand off, pinning it to the bed. 
“It’s embarrassing,” you whine. 
“What is? That you’re enjoying this?”
You pant, unable to get the words out of your mouth, but she knows what you’re saying. She returns her hand to your hip, letting yours free. 
No, not that, just… I’m being so fucking loud and shrill and my face looks so-
You know I don’t think that, she cuts off your negative thoughts. You’ll have to work on that together in the future. If you don’t believe her thoughts, maybe she’ll have to show you. Wouldn’t that be something? You reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror with her hand on your throat and another on your hip while she rocks up into you? You’d blush so much, it’d be so cute. And you wouldn’t be able to look away, she’d grab you by your cheeks and show you just how fucking sexy you are when you- 
The grip of your legs tightens around her, forcing her as deep as she can go while you unravel on that synthetic extension of her, sobbing with sensitivity. You’ve lost control again and Ellie’s right there with you, gasping and swearing and surely leaving bruises on your hips with how tightly she’s gripping them. 
“Oh, please don’t stop,” you beg. 
“Gotta loosen your legs a little, babe,” she reminds you, and you immediately do, a stunned expression on your face that confuses her. 
“You called me babe,” you coo. 
“I’m literally inside you,” she replies with a scoff, cheeks heating up even more at how ridiculously adorable you are. “One more round like that and then you’re gonna have to ride me.”
“Fine by me.”
Ellie resumes her motions from before, but this time you’re not as interactive, you can barely hold the vibrator in place, let alone do anything else. She’s fucking the life out of you and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
She grins at that thought, taking a pause to kiss you again. 
Perfect, oh, so perfect. And all mine. 
She returns to her merciless pace, now grabbing your hips and dragging them down to meet her motions sooner. Your whole body ripples, chest bouncing up and down as she slams inside you, your moans punctuating every thrust. 
“C- C-” you pant, “Cl- Clo…”
Ellie shushes you comfortingly, not wanting you to waste your energy.
“I- Ha, I, Oh… Oh, please, Ellie, I-” your breath catches in your throat. 
“I know, baby, I know. It’s okay,” she reassures you. 
You keep panting, taking all she has to offer as loving and lustful thoughts flow back and forth between you. You hit that perfect peak with a sob of pleasure, and Ellie becomes weaker as she tries to work you both through it. Oh, that won’t do. 
Words aren’t necessary. She pulls out, and the emptiness is soul-crushing. The issue is quickly resolved by readjusting your positions as planned, fuck, it feels so much bigger like this. 
She caresses your thighs, her thoughts jumbled to the point where they’re not even words anymore, just feelings of desire and satisfaction and gratitude and admiration and… 
Love. 
Love, all-encompassing, stronger than anything you’ve ever experienced. 
“Wow,” you sigh. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” Ellie says softly. 
“I hate to rush things, this is- It’s important, y’know? Pretty clear where we stand after this, and- And I-”
“We can definitely have a do-over, if you want… But so far, we’re enjoying ourselves, and isn’t that what matters?” 
“Yeah,” you whimper. “Let me just-“
“I’ve got it,” she says, taking the still-moving wand from your hand, which is trembling just as much. “Just take what you need, babe.” 
She holds it in place for you as you rock your hips, finding that perfect angle and riding the waves. Somewhere in the haze you find her other hand and squeeze it as tightly as you’re clenching your eyes shut. 
You continue that way; words don’t need to be exchanged, just uncontrollable moans and thoughts that are sweet, dirty, or both as orgasm after orgasm washes over you. You’re drowning. 
You’re exhausted and overstimulated, but fuck, you need it. You need it so bad. 
Suddenly, though, Ellie snatches your hips, forcing you to still. 
“Y/N. Y/N, breathe.” 
“What?” you respond, panting. Oh, that’s right. That’s your name. You’d almost forgotten. 
“Lay down,” she instructs you. 
“But- But I…”
“You’re on the verge of passing out. Lay down, and breathe.” 
“I need…”
“Lay on your side. I’ll take it from here, at least for a little while,” she insists. “I’ll stay inside you so we can sleep.”
You force yourself up and off of the strap, collapsing onto the bed in a curled-up ball of pain and sobs and need. There’s not enough words to describe how it feels to be so empty, the pain is like your heart’s been put in a blender both literally and metaphorically. 
Ellie spoons you, reentering you as soon as she can get properly realigned. 
You sigh in relief.
“Is that what you need the most, babe? For me to be inside you?”
“Yeah,” you pitifully reply. 
“Then we’ll stay like this and try to get some rest.” She caresses the curve of your waist and it’s like you’re being gently electrocuted; tingling chills trickle out from every millimeter of touching skin. You shiver, and Ellie manages to get a blanket over the two of you, mostly using her feet. Normally, you’d get a good chuckle out of such antics. You’re too blissed out for it to even register, though. You were in a cold sweat before, and now you’re in a warm embrace with a blanket that feels softer than ever against your bare skin. 
She’s still shaking. She needs water, but I can’t exactly leave. But who could come here? Maybe Yukio, but that’d be awkward, even if we’re friends now. Wade? Oh, fuck no. 
“I’ll be alright,” you mumble. 
“You almost fainted. You need something in you.”
“I already have something in me,” you reply, the most adorable mix of sleepy and smug as you teasingly rock your hips. Ellie scoffs. 
“Fine. But as soon as this wears off-”
“I know,” you hum. “Let’s just sleep now. You’re- You’re a very good big spoon.”
“Thanks. Was there anything you didn’t like, aside from the obvious?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Anything you liked in particular?” 
“Your thoughts were very sweet. And I like that you talked to me, y’know, communicated a lot and made sure I was okay.”
“That’s kind of the bare minimum.”
“I guess. What about you? Likes and dislikes?”
“Fuck, you’re… You’re perfect. That’s all I can really say.” 
And with that, you two drift off. 
You awaken to a pain that sweeps over your entire body, like thick needles piercing every pore straight down to the bone. You scream, but it’s not just physical torment.
She’s abandoned you. She doesn’t want you anymore; doesn’t wanna breed you, doesn’t wanna make you hers, doesn’t- You sob in pain, clawing at your burning, aching, itching skin as you writhe. 
The door opens. New mate? Please let it be a new mate. You need to be filled. Need it. 
“Shit, Y/N, I thought since you were asleep…” Ellie trails off, closing the door.
“It hurts, it hurts!” you wail, not really processing what she’s saying. You just need help. 
“I’m sorry,” she says solemnly, finding the toy from before and cleaning it off, only bothering to take off her pants before putting the strap back on.
“Make it stop, please,” you beg. 
“I’m trying,” she insists, but even as she lines herself up, you’re still sobbing inconsolably. She eases in but you’re still shaking, hot tears running down your face. “There we go. Can you drink this?” 
She holds a reusable water bottle. You nod. 
“Hurt so bad, thought you left me forever,” you whimper as she pushes the button to flip the straw up. She presses it against your trembling lips.
“I’d never,” she whispers. “Please drink.”
You finally take your first sip, and realize that your instincts regarding food and water must’ve been completely shut down until this moment. You take gulp after gulp until she pulls it away.
“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” she chides you, looking more concerned than ever. 
“I- I-” you pant, but you’re not even sure what you’re trying to say. The pain is gone, but it lingers in the back of your mind, like a halo of misery hovering over your skin. She puts a hand on your shoulder, and you can’t help but project the feelings you’re feeling right now, a constant loop:
fuckmebreedmeownmebitemeclaimmeyoursyoursyoursneedyouneedyouneedyou
“I know,” she sighs. “I don’t… You’re too far gone right now. We can stay like this so you’re not in pain, but I don’t think we should do what we did yesterday. Your mind isn’t as clear as it was then.”
Not a worthy mate for her? Need it, need to be filled, maybe someone else will-
She thrusts, hard. It certainly gets your attention. 
“Y/N, no. You’re- You’re worthy. You know I want you. Just not like this. Things were different yesterday, you were still… Lucid. This feels wrong. I don’t want you to regret anything we do together.”
You’re still teeming with feelings of perceived rejection, eyes blurry with tears. 
“I’m your… Mate, right? That means I have to protect you, doesn’t it?”
You nod. 
“Right now, I’m trying to protect you by not going any further than this. Reach out. Feel it.” 
You obey, wrapping your hand around her arm. She’s right. Her intentions are pure. She does still care, it’s why she doesn’t want to do more. 
“You look tired, still. I’m guessing you only woke up because of the pain. Let’s readjust so you can go back to sleep.”
Readjust? She’s not going to pull out again, is she? You couldn’t take that. You wrap your arms and legs around her tightly, keeping her in. She yelps in surprise before she sees your terrified expression and feels the waves of pure fear rushing out of you. 
“Right. How about this? Let go. I won’t leave you empty again.” You loosen the grip of your legs and she holds the dildo in, pulling away. The suction cup resists, but eventually it’s forced out of the rubber ring on her harness. You nod, this is acceptable. You’d do anything to avoid the pain. “There we go.”
She smiles sadly, stroking your hair and the side of your face. 
“You okay?” she asks. You nod again. “Can you talk?”
You open your mouth, but can’t seem to force even a simple yes from your vocal cords. Your throat doesn’t hurt, the blockage is purely mental. Everything you’re feeling right now, everything she’s feeling right now, it’s too much. You look at her woefully, shaking your head. 
“That’s okay. Can you still communicate through touch?” 
Your legs are still loosely looped around her. You can feel it all: her concern, her burning need to keep you safe, her fear that she’s doing the wrong thing, and, most importantly, her unwavering love for you. 
You try to push some thoughts her way, but they’re still scrambled. 
Safesafewarmsafeloveholdmesafelovewarmholdmesafe
“To an extent,” she says for you. “Got it.” She takes off the harness, pulling the covers over you both before pulling you into her arms. She was right, you’re exhausted. 
You wish you could say something, thank her, tell her you love her. It’s just like when you were a kid, before you even knew what your abilities were. Every casual touch throughout the day was another tooth on the locked zipper your lips became. You were nonverbal more often than not, until you got here. You feel helpless.
“I didn’t know that,” she murmurs. “But don’t worry. I know the other stuff. You’re saying it just fine like this.” 
You burrow into her embrace, still trembling. 
“Just breathe. It’ll be okay.”
What if it never stops? 
“It will. Just takes time. Oh, fuck, when’s the last time you used the restroom?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, helping you make your way to it on jelly legs. 
“Let me know when you’re done and I’ll help you back into bed.” 
You grab her wrist.
Can’t pull it out myself, can’t do it, it’s gonna hurt too much. 
“Right. I’ll pull it out, and I’ll be right here waiting when you’re done. On the count of three, okay? 1, 2…”
You can’t help but screech. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, why wouldn’t you scream? It sounds louder than it feels in your throat, and that's when you realize you’re still holding onto her wrist. She’s screaming, too. 
You rip your hand away and rush through the business you need to take care of as fast as you can, washing your hands and returning to her, though you collapse at her feet, shaking and sobbing.
She puts the toy back inside of you, but it’s not enough this time. You need to be bred. This alleviates the pain for the most part, but you’re filled with an indescribable tension and you know that any second, the burning ache will sweep its way over you again. 
She helps you back into bed, but you still tremble. You’re entangled with her in more ways than one, and she sighs as she feels your fears, your need. 
“I’ll move it for you, how about that?” she asks. You nod, and she reaches a hand down, sliding the toy up and down — never fully out, but just enough for you to feel it. That’s better. You sigh in relief, relaxing into her. “There we go. You’re gonna be just fine. Go back to sleep.”
I’m sorry I hurt you. 
“It’s okay. It was an accident.” But you can feel a sickly sort of feeling inside of her. 
I told you. I told you that it would ruin things. That it would repulse you. That I would. 
“What are you talking about?”
I can feel it. Don’t try to lie to me, especially while you’re doing that. 
Ellie watches the toy slide in and out of you at her hand, the way you quiver every time she bottoms out. It’s not just visual, she has a sixth sense, your sixth sense. Every little tremor sends a ripple of chills through her.
“You don’t repulse me. Your abilities don’t repulse me. I’m repulsed by myself. I shouldn’t have let it end up like this, I should’ve figured things out sooner. I’m not upset because I felt your pain in the way that you think I am.” 
Things? 
“The creature, your feelings, my feelings, what you’ve been through… What you’re going through now. I should’ve figured it all out before, it wouldn’t be like-”
Words are failing you again, but you do your best to project comfort to her. It’s really not so bad overall. Everything feels good, as long as she doesn’t stop. Most superhero couples don’t end up together in ideal ways. At least you two got to have mind-blowing sex. 
Ellie snickers. 
“Okay. If you’re sure. Now, sleep, alright? I’ve got you.”
And so you do. 
You wake up in a hospital bed under a thin blanket, wrapped in Ellie’s fluffy black robe. 
How’d you get here? You try to remember, but the last thing you do is being encircled by Ellie, and she was- Oh, goodness. You blush, remembering every filthy thing you said and did. 
The blush is even deeper as the more romantic memories roll in. Maybe there were some complications with the pollen, were you sick? Oh, gross, you were probably gushing snot in your sleep and she rushed you here, worried you’d suffocate! 
“You’re awake! How are you?” a friendly-looking man who’s probably several years older than you— but still has a somewhat youthful appearance —asks. 
“Where’s Ellie?” you ask instead of answering. Does she regret it? Oh, she does, doesn’t she? You knew it. 
He smiles knowingly. 
“I finally convinced her to go take a shower, so, of course, you immediately woke up. She’ll be back soon.”
“Um, who are you?”
“I’m Peter, I’m one of Ellie’s coworkers. Technically her supervisor, but, eh…” 
“Oh, Dr. Parker! I’ve heard of you. Good things. Uh, sorry, I’m sure Ellie would tell me if she was here, but… What happened?”
“Right! You weren’t waking up, and while Xavier’s has a pretty good medical center, there weren’t any biochemistry experts to consult… So, Ellie called me and I told her to bring you here. After a little bit of field research, we found that the creature whose pollen you inhaled quite a bit of hibernates directly after mating season. Do your sinuses hurt? We flushed them to see if that would help.”
You shake your head. 
“Good, that’s good. Still… Hurting?”
Your blush returns, and you shake your head with a bit more enthusiasm. He laughs.
“Good! Ope!” He tilts his head, and you’re confused until you finally start to hear her footsteps, too. The door opens. 
Ellie’s eyes widen at the sight of you conscious. 
“You know what they say about watched pots never boiling. Text me if you two need anything, Ellie.”
And with that, Dr. Parker steps out. 
“How are you? Do you feel okay?” 
“Given that I’m not writhing in agony and I can talk again, I’d say I’m okay. How are you?”
She stammers, before clutching your hand with great urgency. She stares down at both of her hands encircling yours. 
What if it was the pollen talking and she doesn’t really like me? What if she did like me before but feels used now? What if she’s lying about being okay so I won’t worry? I hope she wasn’t scared when she woke up. What if- 
“Anxious,” you observe. “I do like you. I don’t feel used, and I hope you don’t either. I’m really okay. When I woke up, I was just confused. I recognized your robe, so I knew I was okay.” 
She recognized my robe, so she knew she was okay. She trusts me that much? 
Of course I do. 
She looks up at you, positively beaming. 
“I’m- I’m really happy you’re okay. I think they’ll wanna check your vitals and stuff, but we should be good to go home after that, okay?”
“Okay,” you reply. 
“Er… I know this isn’t really the right order of things, but you said before… I- Do you still want…?”
Pleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriendpleasebemygirlfriend!
You laugh, and Ellie realizes you’re still holding hands. Her eyes widen and her cheeks flush as she snatches her hands away, crossing her arms and looking adorably shy. 
“Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
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the-somwthing · 5 months
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I gotta talk to people so bad so I’m just gonna spout something that’s been on my mind for a while
I see a lot of people always describing Joel and Scott’s rivalry as one sided. Like, Joel just hates Scott and Scott doesn’t care? And while I feel like that statement is technically true, it doesn’t really describe the situation very well.
It sort of implies that Scott’s never out to get Joel, and Joel is just coming after Scott for no reason. I won’t deny that Joel does like to come after Scott without provocation sometimes, but like… we are ignoring the fact that 3/5 Joel final deaths have been at Scott’s hand?
In two seasons, those kills were a result of a deliberate hunt to get rid of Joel specifically. In Last Life, I’ll give him a bit of a pass, since Joel did kind of start the fight with a big explosion and had been the “villain” for the entire season, it makes enough sense to try to end him like that.
But in LIMITED LIFE?? As a Joel viewer I am NEVER getting over the feeling of watching his final episode (not negative, just baffling in a way I find pretty fun lol). Scott randomly says “Joel needs to die” and everyone just agrees I guess? And then Joel is being witch hunted. “Oh but it’s because he was getting so many kills! Duh!” Grian had more. Grian LITERALLY got a quad kill (ON SCOTT FOR THAT MATTER) and Scott’s like “JOEL is the problem, the murderous evil of the server”. LIKE HELLO?? They’re literally allies, Scott could’ve said “we need to get rid of the bad boys” but he was COOL with Grian. He was letting Grian LIVE. Like HELLO??? WHAT DID JOEL DO FR 😭 Joel was literally just trying to survive btw, his fighting back was very defensive rather than offensive, and would back off when not being actively attacked. With the exception of trying to get kills cuz he was on less than ten minutes, of course. But Scott had been hunting him before then.
And then I guess I have to mention Secret Life’s Scott-Killing-Joel. I don’t think that final kill was especially targeted on either of their sides, the battle just turned out that way. I could rewatch to see if there’s more to it but for now this is how I see it.
Okay, I’m turning this into a full analysis of their rivalry, idc, I’m literally obsessed with their dynamic. I’m adding a cut here.
ALRIGHT WHERE WAS I. RIGHT. Finished explaining the final deaths, but there’s stuff before that! Let’s take a look at their rivalry 🥰
Let’s go in order, shall we? 3rd Life!! I am obsessed with them in this season ahahahhaga anyways. Joel comes after Scott unprovoked. Simple, this is how everyone sees their rivalry. HOWEVER. Joel is FULLY WILLING to work with him anyways. Maybe you could excuse the dark oak thing as it was early on and they were just trying to take down a monopoly. But in the finale they reconcile and spend much of the session together. They established early on that Joel had been trying to kill Scott, but they’re both perfectly happy to team up instead (which btw they did because they both happened to be allied with Scar).
Then Last Life. Joel does hate Scott in it, but I’m not sure I would say it’s without reason. Joel being boogey in ep2 was majorly important, and he killed Scott. But that wasn’t targeted. He had attempted multiple times to kill other people. Scott was one of the only (and closest) people who didn’t already know he was boogeyman. Then of course Scott tells Pearl they can fight back and has her kill Joel, sending him to red. Perfectly reasonable for all parties imo, and a good enough reason for Joel to target Scott seeing as being red early on had a huge impact on him.
Of course LL is also where Joel says Scott just looked at him funny one day and that’s why he hates him, which is a great line. I do believe he would bother Scott just for the rivalry, but unlike in 3rd Life, Scott had done things to make Joel never consider stopping.
Then Double Life. Erm. Literally nothing, except that I believe the only reason Scott and Pearl were the last pair is because Joel wasn’t there to kill them, since apparently he’s the only one who can make them lose lives. Wild. They were guaranteed to win ever since the lava portal trap. (obviously I’m joking but like how is he the only outside force to kill that pair). I will clarify for analysis sake that Joel’s first kill on them had nothing to do with Scott, and the second kill was to Scott but it was because of the life colors, not really anything about their rivalry. It was technically targeted at Scott specifically but not cuz he hated him, instead because Pearl had a weird “alliance” with the reds.
Then Limited Life!!! What the heeelll was happening lmao. I already talked about the final moment so before that. Erm. I’m blanking out I’m listening to bad romance it’s distracting me. You know what let’s move on I can’t remember what they did, the final death I explained previously is enough data for now.
Secret Life. Oh boy. I’ll say it again, I was secretly hoping for more Scott/Joel dynamic when it started but I doubted it would happen but we got FED!!! I was so excited when I saw the assassin task (as was Joel). Anyways. Throughout the season Joel was doing the whole hating Scott thing, Scott caught onto the bit and played into it somewhat by talking more about how Joel always hates him for no reason. We SHOULD be able to disregard Joel targeting Scott for the assassin task as it was a task, but to be fair after reading it Joel said “oh my gosh is this my dream?” He was super happy to be assigned to assassinate Scott LMAO. That has to count for something.
I feel like the rivalry was fairly obvious, so I need to point out the outlier moments in SL. While Joel goes on about how Scott should die, he happily trades with him and swapped gifted hearts with zero hesitation. In the final session, he and Scott ended up on the same side. I believe Joel may have been slightly annoyed at being on a team with him but accepts it nonetheless. The only reason Scott ends up killing Joel is because their team won, so they had to turn on each other. As previously stated it wasn’t especially targeted, it was a 2v2.
And then if you noticed from me saying 3/5 games, I’m not counting Real Life, but I’ll bring it up here. Scott literally says “since it’s real life we can be friends now since we’re friends in real life” (one of the many reasons I consider RL noncanon tbh, Scott literally mentions in-universe that this season is different so they can act differently, also what is the in-universe explanation for “friends in real life”). Aside from a reminder that Joel doesn’t actually hate Scott irl and this is just fun game rp stuff, this shows that Scott really did catch onto the rivalry bit, and really does just bring it up more. Joel had just arrived when Scott brought it up. Joel agrees to being friends in Real Life. This holds little relevance to my analysis since I don’t view RL as canon but you can keep it in mind.
Now that I’ve laid out their rivalry in a simplified summary, let me ACTUALLY analyze it! What did I mean all the way back at the start of the post when I said “Scott and Joel’s rivalry being one sided is somewhat accurate but I feel it misrepresents their relationship”?
Well, I believe it’s true that (at least up until Secret Life), Scott didn’t care about the rivalry while Joel did. But that doesn’t mean Scott never targeted Joel, as I said he’s witch-hunted him twice. It’s just it was never personal to Scott. I once saw a post(s) I really enjoyed, an analysis on Scott. Saying that he doesn’t actually value being loyal, he values being fair. Then there was the addition that it’s based on what he thinks is fair. I feel like this is 100% true for his thing with Joel. Scott views Joel as a force that has to be stopped, he’s gone too far, he needs to be stopped, it’s only fair for all the suffering he’s caused. He doesn’t stop to think about how killing is the whole point of this game, how other people are doing the same things, how many times he has killed Joel. Joel hasn’t killed Scott permanently before, he has killed him though, but not as much as Scott has killed Joel. To Scott, that doesn’t matter, Scott kills Joel for a reason, for justice, while Joel kills just for the sake of it. Whether or not that idea is true is up to you to interpret for yourself, but to Scott it’s true. Joel is more of a wildfire that needs to be put out than a rival.
Let’s look at Joel’s side of things. He does hate Scott and target him for no reason. The rivalry is one sided, where Joel sees a rival Scott sees some random danger that needs to be dealt with. I can’t tell you why Joel hates Scott. It’s not really the point of my analysis. I’ve seen ppl say it’s because of previous series they’ve had together (they’ve been rivals for ages!) but for my headcanons they don’t remember those, tho very few feelings from their past lives may linger, so perhaps that does explain it. For the sake of my analysis though we won’t be looking deep into why Joel likes to poke at Scott. It’s cuz he looked at him funny one day remember?
So we establish that Joel needlessly attacks Scott. But if you’ll notice from my summaries, he is fully willing to put aside that hatred. It’s conditional (yes it is the default, but still). If Scott treats Joel kindly, Joel will attempt to reciprocate it. Let’s look at this again:
3L: Joel targets Scott, Scott kind of just gives him a disapproving look every time and doesn’t fight back. Joel ends up feeling somewhat guilty, and in the end has no problems teaming up with Scott.
LL: Scott was the main cause of Joel turning red, Joel targets him constantly. Scott ends up permanently killing Joel to put an end to his madness.
DL: erm. Well it’s worth mentioning Joel never specifically targeted Scott for no reason. ALSO WORTH MENTIONING SCOTT BURNED THE RELATION??? This season was a bit of a switch-up. I need to rewatch to see if Scott had any good reason to do that lmao I don’t really remember, I hardly remembered he was responsible.
LimL: Scott deems Joel to be a server menace who needs to die, Joel (who doesn’t really understand why he needs to die) tries negotiating many times but Scott insists. He kills Joel.
SL: Joel gets task to target Scott, is thrilled. He fails miserably, losing people he cares about in the process. Vows to kill Scott, it’s like his main goal now. Still accepts every peace offering from Scott with little to no hesitation, to the point of eventually teaming with him until they’re forced to go against each other and Scott kills Joel again.
So basically you can see, every time Scott does something to wrong Joel, Joel goes hard on the rivalry, while if he doesn’t and offers peace, Joel will lay off. Secret Life was a weird middle ground, where Scott had done things to wrong Joel, however those things weren’t entirely his fault so when he offered peace to Joel, Joel would still accept. A confusing time for Joel I’m sure.
I will say a disclaimer here, I’m not saying Scott shouldn’t ever fight back against Joel. If he’s targeting you for no reason, it’s your decision if you’ll try to befriend him to make him stop or fight back. I support fighting back. I’m just saying that befriending him is a proven method to work, but I don’t think Scott has exactly noticed that and instead just assumes that Joel will stop at nothing to end him.
Another thing I wanted to talk about but forgot what the natural and intuitive transition into it was gonna be. Scott has permakilled Joel 3 times. Joel has permakilled Scott 0 times.
Joel had started the series off picking on Scott for no reason, and has never succeeded. Scott has won this battle three times. At this point, it’s honestly finally somewhat justified for Joel to come after Scott. That guy has specifically targeted and hunted him out of 2 seasons, and took him out of a 3rd as well. Joel has taken Scott out of 0. At this point, I feel like Joel needs that closure, to finally kill Scott, and who knows if he’ll ever get it. If you look at the fandom, even fans are hoping Joel will kill Scott because of this. So imagine how Joel feels! But obviously Scott wouldn’t just let him (okay. Well. Actually. It’s Scott. He kind of lets people do that all the time. But only allies…). Scott will be waiting for Joel to target him once more, and deal with it the way he always does. But who knows if it’ll turn out different?
Which reminds me that I pinpoint SL as the season Scott finally notices this “one sided rivalry”. We all know Scott loves drama, so when he finally noticed Joel had been hating him the whole time, he kept bringing it up. And it wasn’t just for SL only, he brought it up the moment he saw Joel in RL. I don’t count RL as canon but it does prove that Scott hasn’t let go of the rivalry now that he’s finally realized it. I don’t know if there will be a 6th season, but if so I wouldn’t be surprised if Scott brings up the rivalry. Idk if he would make it a big deal, but he would surely at least mention it.
Anyways, if you think I’m done with my little analysis, you’re wrong!!! I’m done with the things I see as pretty factual, but now we’re gonna get into more fanon headcanony type of territory!!!
…but, maybe I’ll make that its own post. Stay tuned and thanks for reading!
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ilkkawhat · 9 days
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tagged by @room-665 and @judyalvqrez, thank you both!💜💜💜💜
last song: Children of the Elder God by Old Gods of Asgard--in full. After that I was skipping through songs as I pulled into my neighborhood and driveway lol. honestly still seems like AW soundtrack music is like, the one thing I never skip since I got into it last November.
favourite color: Purple!
currently reading: House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski, have been for a while lol I gotta get back on it. My mom got a bit of a kick out of seeing me moving the book around and flipping to the back and such 😂
currently watching: Series wise, nothing really since I finished Sorjonen...I've been just kinda watching a lot of youtube videos or movies. Been thinking about getting back into Only Murders in the Building (I watched the first two seasons I think? Maybe the 3rd? See I just gotta start over lol) and then watching Poromafia for my next Ilkka series (beyond just skimming), and I'm probably gonna start Interview With a Vampire sooner or later cause it's all over my dash EDIT: FUCK i forgot I'm watching Star Trek Enterprise! very slowly, I watch it while I chill downstairs with my dog when my parents go out shopping (he's got bad separation anxiety and is not allowed to go up the stairs anymore for his safety so I just go to him)
last movie: Rewatched Hell House 2 in full, started watching Butterfly Kisses last night but couldn't stay up to finish it. Trying to get in the mood for spooky season and last year I got really into the found footage sub-genre.
sweet, spicy or savory: Savory...not good with spicy (lol says a woman who works with chipotle peppers. We mill dehydrated pods and it was so strong the other day I legit threw up on my way out) but on a mild level I'm okay with it. Do like sweet stuff but I do have limits with it.
relationship status: Single, probably always gonna be that way and that's fine lol. But if I happen to meet someone maybe I won't be as much of a coward as I have been with other potential relationships I could have had...it also sucks cause I can't say I'm surrounded with the most pleasant relationships (my parents especially)
current obsession: Primarily Alan Wake, secondary Ilkka Villi and really just the Remedy Verse as a whole--I think work's just beating me down too much to enjoy really anything right now but god do I just crave for the atmosphere and aesthetic of Alan Wake 2 right now
tea or coffee: Coffee though I'm not against tea at all and will admit I haven't drank as much coffee as I used to, I stopped during one summer cause it was too hot and I think I may have lost my idk taste? tolerance? for black coffee but I do get iced french vanilla coffee from mcdonalds like once a week lol. (really I just drink a lot of celsius for my daily caffiene fix)
the last thing i googled: Rune Factory 5 cause I saw it's on sale on the Nintendo e-shop and I'm debating getting it even though I have tons of other games I should be playing and let's be real, I'm just gonna continue playing Alan Wake 2 for the tenth time tomorrow instead of even playing the recently bought Star Wars Outlaws 😂😂 but RF5 is like, 20 bucks and that's the cheapest I've ever seen it so it can't hurt just to get it in the library and maybe start it later
breaking the tag chain but if anybody wants to do this, go for it and say I tagged you
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lucystark12 · 20 days
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i very very rarely listen to running up that hill but i am right now and it's just like holy shit YOU HAD TO BE THERE (weird reflection post that i just randomly started writing and couldn't stop for some reason about my depression lol that was supposed to be cute and lovey about my love for stranger things but ended up being really somber)
i didn't immediately watch season 4 when it came out on may 27th, because friday may 27th was the day that i came back from a week long class trip to the deep depths of northern washington (hell on earth, no mans land, if you will) and since my parents were out of town for my mom's 50th birthday, i was going straight to my best friend's house to stay over for the weekend. that i did. my best friend everly, whom i was staying with, always falls asleep really early, so at some point in the early hours of may 28th, probably around 1 am, i pulled out my phone and starting watching stranger things. i had spent the entire spring rewatching after all.
i got to where chrissy got possessed and immediately had to turn it off because i was in seventh grade and the bone cracking thing scared me to death (this was before i watched GOT for the first time, my tolerance for gore was not as high as it is now)
such began the first of many times where i'd neglect watching my favorite show for no reason. i did it with house of the dragon season 2 as well. so, a few days later i left everly's house and my grandma came to stay at my house with me while my parents were finishing out the rest of their trip.
at this point, the whole internet was already talking about running up that hill. it was that sunday when i decided i had to watch the show. who the fuck was i kidding? i loved stranger things. problem was, my grandma is and will always be the worst tv hog in the history of the world, so with a shitty disaster movie playing in the background, i put in one airpod and finally started watching stranger things season four.
this was a particularly rainy spring for portland, something that literally scarred me at the time because i was nearing the end of the worst depressive episode of my entire life, and the sun not being able to peek out of the trees like it had in late may last summer and every summer before that was something so insignificant yet something that really was sending me off the edge. i didn't realize how far off the edge i already was at the time. my other best friend had just started taking medication for her depression, which manifested very differently in ways that mine didn't. she was mad. she was resentful. between the few moments that she was the same laughing, loving girl i'd always known, she hated me and our other friends and hated herself more. my cousin likewise had depression so bad he couldn't get out of bed. he hadn't been to school in three months. i wasn't like that. i thought i was happy comparatively. i was diagnosed with OCD the year before and thought that was an explanation. it took getting a new therapist and unpacking my behavior back then to understand what was really happening. i never cried. when i did, it was violent. it came in bursts that lasted all afternoon. i started and i didn't stop until i fell asleep. i threw things, i refused to talk to anybody. i was failing math, which i've never done before. i couldn't understand a thing. i didn't even care to try. i hated myself. the only thing i ate was a bowl of craisins at school every day because i couldn't physically force myself to eat. i thought i was just tired even though i got ten hours of sleep every day. i was always exhausted. my therapist couldn't diagnose me because after years of being taught i had to be perfect, i refused to tell even her that there was something wrong. i thought i was stupid, i thought i was ugly, i thought i was worthless. i thought i was just experiencing what it's like to be twelve years old.
so, another rainy and overly misty sunday afternoon passed me by as i reached the ending of the fourth episode, and finally, the fated song that i'd been hearing all over tiktok and didn't quite understand yet started playing out of max's walkman. i watched the entire scene with my grandma barking questions at me about why i was tearing up.
running up that hill was my most played song of 2022, just ahead of africa by toto.
now i'm not going to say that stranger things brought me out of said depressive episode, because it didn't. the four months ahead of me were four of the hardest of my life still to this day, just as the six before them had already been. but i've grown a lot since then, and two years later when i was in spain alone, sick and crying, experiencing a little week long bout of similar feelings to the ones i felt when i first watched season four, the show weirdly managed to find me again.
the week before i had left to study abroad in spain i had learned that i got a B+ in math instead of an A- in math because my teacher wouldn't round up my 89.9%. it might seem trivial especially because a B+ is incredible process from the algebra i had nearly failed for the second time in the row the year before, but sometimes things like that can be enough to cause somebody to fall back into old habits and feelings. estranged from everybody and everything i'd turned into coping mechanisms for hard times like these when i was literally half the world away, i didn't know what to do. so, when i was in my dorm with food poisoning from a salad i'd eaten the night before, i decided to press on the byler analysis video that had popped up in my youtube feed. such began what i've been calling my "stranger things renaissance"- a second stranger things phase that's been going on since late june.
not to sound overly bylerish, but i've been seeing a lot of parallels between this summer and the summer season four came out. for reasons out of my control, i've been forced to spend a lot of time alone. this summer when i've started feeling lonely, i've taught myself that rather than overthink, to channel it into something else like writing, or doing something that will calm me down. now when i'm home alone and haven't seen a friend in a few days, i'm not sad anymore. i think "well damn" and then i move on with my night. i'm no longer depressed. with the help of my new therapist, i've gotten really close to growing out of my OCD. i no longer have to pray every night. i don't wake up in a cold sweat if i go to bed at 10:31 instead of a "perfect number" like 10:30 or 10:35. i rarely lock my bedroom door anymore. and no, it's not perfect yet. i'm not "cured"- i still have my crying episodes. i still have moments, even though they're few and far between now, where i feel the same way i did back when i was twelve.
but i'm moving on. things have shifted in my life. i've grown up and this show has with me. i started watching it on halloween of 2019 when i was in fifth grade and my friends and i did the "goodbye mike" trend in my basement. i watched the first three episodes that night and finished it for the first time during covid. it was with me through that hard time back in the day, and for some strange (haha) reason, it's with me now, and will probably continue to be with me until the show ends, because like as typically happens when i fall back into obsession with something i liked when i was a little younger, (the mcu, harry potter which remanifested in the marauders) it becomes more than a phase, but a part of me in some weird way.
stranger things may have its flaws and it might not end the way i wanted it to, but for the rest of my life it will be special to me regardless. i'm finally for the first time in my life older than the characters. i was seven when season one came out, eight when season two, ten during season three, 12-13 and season four, and will be 16 in season five.
so thanks, stranger things, for helping me, and thanks even more for showing her that there's nothing wrong with the many different aspects of her that she'd been led to believe were wrong. as corny as it sounds, she couldn't have done it without you 🫶
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(say hi to baby lucy, because it's always more fun with pictures, and because depression can happen to anybody no matter what they might look or act like on the surface)
rip 2022 lucy, you would have loved the byler sunset pictures that you somehow would have found a way to relate to reddie and your best friend that you were highkey in love with. you also would have loved mike wheeler if i could explain who he really is to you because said in an EARLY analytical essay that "All I really gained from season four though was that I absolutely hate older Mike and that I wish he would’ve died instead of Max." in the same essay you say you wish you could throw mike of a cliff. oh the irony. (please laugh)
ps: if you ever find yourself feeling anything like what i described in this post, know that it gets better even if it seems like that's what everybody says and it seems like it never will. there were times back then when i didn't even know if i'd make it to the age i am right now, and now i'm at one of the happiest points ive ever been in my life. know that even if we've never talked before, i love you and i believe in you. my blog is always a safe place if anybody out there ever needs anybody to talk to.
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